Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2570486.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage, Rape/Non-Con
  Category:
      F/M, M/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski, Allison_Argent/Isaac_Lahey/Scott_McCall,
      Aiden/Lydia_Martin, Ethan/Danny_Mahealani, Vernon_Boyd/Erica_Reyes,
      Stiles_Stilinski_&_Everyone, Lydia_Martin_&_Peter_Hale
  Character:
      Stiles_Stilinski, Scott_McCall, Derek_Hale, Allison_Argent, Peter_Hale,
      Isaac_Lahey, Lydia_Martin, Aiden_(Teen_Wolf), Ethan_(Teen_Wolf), Danny
      Mahealani, Vernon_Boyd, Erica_Reyes, Melissa_McCall, Pretty_much_the
      entire_Hale_Pack, Deucalion_(Teen_Wolf), Kali_(Teen_Wolf), Liam_Dunbar
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Canon_Divergence, Alternate_Universe_-_Mafia_AU,
      Emotional_Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Cuddling_&_Snuggling,
      Platonic_Cuddling, Shameless_Smut, Werewolves, Vampires, Demons, incubus
      danny, Spark_Stiles_Stilinski, BAMF_Stiles, Don_Stiles, Touch-Starved,
      Underage_Sex, Power_Imbalance, Dark, Torture, Psychological_Trauma,
      Aftermath_of_Torture, Forced_Prostitution, Forced_Orgasm, Imprisonment,
      Slavery, Character_Death, but_not_really, Suicidal_Thoughts, Suicide
      Attempt, but_not_real, Alpha_Stiles, Alpha_Scott, Human_Stiles_Stilinski,
      Alpha_Stiles_Stilinski, Human_Alpha_Stiles_Stilinski, Alpha_Scott_McCall
  Series:
      Part 2 of Payment_of_the_Hales'_debt
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-11-05 Completed: 2015-03-01 Chapters: 37/37 Words: 125596
****** Of Debts and Dons ******
by Anchanee
Summary
     Welcome to the second part of 'Payment of the Hales' Debt'. Please
     start with the first part, otherwise this one will be pretty
     confusing.
     Alright, a brief summary: Derek was given to Stiles as payment for
     his family's debt Talia could not pay when it was due. He truly
     expected the worst when being shipped off to a family who had their
     hand's in every branch of the organized crime from her to San
     Francisco, despite being led by an eighteen year old boy. He had been
     given trousers and a collar who would force his new owner's will on
     him. What good could ever come from that.
     But Derek had been given a room, a family and every kind of support
     he had not even dared to dream of being worth receiving after the
     fire and Kate's betrayal. In the end, his mother had been able to
     come up with the money and had offered to buy him back. Stiles had
     chosen Derek as the messenger to deliver the money to the pack that
     would not get him as a member. And Derek had chosen.
     We are starting in the very same night. Let's see how the story
     continues.
Notes
     Glad to have you all back with me. Now, come on, let's see how Derek
     and Peter are doing ;).
See the end of the work for more notes
***** Happy New Year *****
It was strange for Peter to ride in a car in his wolf-form, but for now being
an animal seemed to be the form that was expected of him. He was questioning
his decision already, pondering if it had been a good idea to submit to a human
and subsequently allowing an eighteen year old girl to collar him. There was
magic in the leather Lydia had fastened around his neck, but not the oppressing
one he had expected. Still, something was there, binding him to the redhead but
for now he could not contemplate how far her influence went.
He thought about leaving, to break the window and run as fast and as far as he
could. He would be free of his sister, of a pack he had stayed with because he
had seen no other way. But would binding himself to these kids really be any
better? Lydia unexpectedly reached towards him, carding her fingers through his
unruly pelt and calming him with the contact. He couldn't even remember the
last time someone had touched him without a hidden agenda. Sure he lived with
his family and he definitely knew how to blow off steam. He was young, had
money and was not short on companions for the night, or a few hours if the need
arose. But this, this was different.
Lydia's touch didn't seem to have any ulterior motive but to make him feel
better. The twin, Aiden, or maybe Ethan, Peter had never bothered to learn the
difference, kept throwing him glances. He seemed ready to abandon the wheel in
favour of throwing himself onto Peter, if the werewolf as much as twitched the
wrong way. When Peter grumbled lowly, a sound of pure comfort, the boy whipped
around.
The werewolf would have chuckled, but in this form he could only make a small
yip of amusement. Aware that Peter was yanking her boyfriend's chain, Lydia
pulled his neck a little. "He has every right to be nervous; you have a
terrible reputation. Don't play games with him." Still, her words lacked heat,
making her reprimand more a friendly suggestion than an angry rebuff.
Peter only raised his head and looked at her. This was one of his basic
character traits: teasing other people, testing them, pushing them to see how
far they could go. Most people broke but a few of them, like Isaac, like Erica,
like Boyd but especially like Scott and Lydia became something more, something
they could never have become on their own. But maybe he should try, for a
chance to go to bed without a constant ache in his chest and being able to wake
up without tears in his eyes because his broken heart hurt more than he could
suffer.
"At least not yet." Lydia added, barely audible. Aiden looked at her but she
shook her head, indicating that she had not spoken to him. Her eyes searched
Peter’s in the rear-view-mirror of the passenger side.
Not yet … but maybe someday. They had wanted him to submit, did they expect him
to change as well? Was that even possibility for him? He was not a very nice
person. His sister had made use of his abilities, but she had stopped caring
after he had pushed her away one time too many after the fire. And Talia had
had her own agenda. She had been eager, eager and determined to bring their
family to their former glory, indifferent of who she left behind on her way to
the top.
He had not been able to take that any longer. But was this really better?
                                     ~ * ~
When Stiles put the Jeep into park, he took a deep breath and put his head on
the steering wheel. Tonight had been a gamble with the highest stakes
imaginable, but still he had won. More than just Derek; who was looking at him
from the passenger seat with concern in his eyes. Stiles felt the werewolf's
hand on his shoulder and turned his head, smiling at him before nodding towards
the door. "Only a few more minutes until midnight. Let's get the glasses and
the champagne."
Aware that his Alpha didn't want to talk, Derek slipped out of the car and
entered the kitchen. He was not prepared for the joy lighting up Melissa's face
when she spotted him. Neither was he ready for the fierce hug she pulled him
into, once he had properly entered. Yet he returned it all too willingly,
remembering that now he didn't have to hold back any longer, that he was
allowed to touch and to scent and to savour.
Wiping away tears of joy, his Alpha's mother gestured toward a set of glasses.
"I prepared everything. I hoped that you would be here before midnight."
Derek got two bottles of Champagne from the fridge and started to open them,
filling the glasses when Mrs. McCall hugged all the others, even Chris Argent
when he entered, assuring herself that nobody was harmed. She stepped back from
the grey and brown wolf that seemed glued to Lydia's side, looking at her son
and his best friend questioningly.
"Mum, that's Peter, Peter Hale." Scott revealed and instantly his mother
understood.
"He's the Alpha who bit you. You and Erica and Boyd and Isaac and finally
Lydia." Angrily she turned towards the wolf, glaring down at him, "What is he
doing here?"
Peter was impressed with the fierce woman cornering him in the kitchen. He had
done horrible things in the past, using these kids had only been the tip of the
iceberg. He was strangely thrilled to find out what she would do to him. The
mother of the true Alpha. Surely this woman held a lot of power in this family,
despite being human. She appeared fierce and she smelled of resentment and
determination when she stepped closer threateningly. Peter retreated even
though he was well aware that she was physically no match for him, especially
not in his wolf form.
Still, attacking the female would be a death sentence, so Peter lay on the
floor on his belly and tried to appear unthreatening. It was an indication of
her intelligence that she didn't relax. As the wolf had expected, Melissa
McCall didn't buy his submissive act for a second.
What Peter hadn't counted on was Isaac putting a hand on her shoulder,
reminding her quietly, "He's the one who made me strong enough to defend myself
against an abusive father."
Boyd was next, claiming a place next to Peter, beside him not in front of him,
speaking softly, "He's the one who made an offer, an offer that turned out
different than I had thought but still ended me with a family, people who
really love me. Didn't it, Melissa?"
Erica, looking at Melissa from behind Lydia since she had entered from the
garage only a moment ago. "He's the one who healed my epilepsy, a disease that
ruined my life."
Looking up in amazement because it seemed so very simple for these wolves to
stand by his side when his own pack had long since forgotten how to be united.
He watched his true Alpha approaching his mother, gently turning her. "He's the
one who helped a weak, asthmatic boy to become a true Alpha. One who is strong
enough to protect the people he loves. If you want to be angry, be angry for
the things he will do from now on. Because I think– just like Derek – he will
need some time to get used to our ways. But don't be angry at him for things of
the past, because with him coming here, we wiped the slate clean. He's just
like every other wolf in this house, wanted and cared for and he will be
punished like everybody else if he screws up. He's nothing special, not really,
he's just someone we want around. Can you accept that, mum? For me?"
Looking down at Peter once again, Melissa McCall sighed deeply. She knew that
she would do everything to make her kids happy, despite her personal feelings.
Still she reminded the wolf, "Step one toe out of line or hurt a single one of
my kids and you will find out how much damage a human can do, even to a
werewolf." And after that she turned around, distributing the glasses so that
they could toast the New Year.
The others followed her, leaving Peter in a daze about what had happened. These
kids had stood by him, not against another wolf-pack but against a member of
their own pack. How could they do that? Why would they even think about
choosing Peter's side over that of the Alpha's mother? He only realized that
Lydia was still by his side when the young girl tugged at his collar, pulling
him from his thoughts. Her voice was soft, so very different from the few times
they had actually spoken, because then she had been terrified and resistant by
then. "Innocent until proven guilty. Now come on, we don't want to miss the
clock striking midnight. I have a feeling that we are in for an exciting year."
He could shift, should shift so he could drink with the others. But somehow
everything he smelled, everything he felt ever since being around these kids
was too overwhelming to confront in his human form, when the thoughts and
emotions were even stronger. For a wolf, even one with a human side, the world
was much simpler and for one night, he could allow himself a little simplicity,
couldn't he? So he followed at Lydia's heel, watching this pack surrounding the
TV-set in the living room, counting down the seconds to midnight.
They all cheered and clinked their glasses and hugged one another. Especially
Derek seemed to throw his arms around everybody at least twice, beaming like
Peter had not seen him since high school.
                                     ~ * ~
After emptying their glasses the entire pack made their way upstairs and though
Derek looked at Stiles in wonder, the teenager only smiled and tugged him
along. They opened a latch in the ceiling of the first floor, pulling down a
steep staircase that they climbed up one after the other. Derek could even see
Aiden steadying Peter on his way up. Derek didn't know if it had been his
uncle's idea to join them all along or if he was merely following after Lydia
in her very short skirt, but decided not to bother tonight.
Once under the roof they walked along a small pathway between boxes and old
cupboards, a broken rocking chair and an outdated children's bike with a black
handle, until they reached the front of the house. Stiles opened a door and one
after the other they spilled out onto a small roof, with barely a railing to
mark its edge.
"Every human find himself a werewolf. It's time to enjoy the first show of the
year." Stiles urged, watching his werewolf friends pulling a human pack member
close.
Curious where this was going, Derek watched Isaac sitting down on the floor,
opening his arms, pulling Allison into his lap. Ethan of course pulled Danny
close. Lydia sat down between Aiden's feet, allowing the wolf to hug her from
behind, gesturing Peter to lie down beside them. Scott opened his arms for his
mother and the woman sank into them, leaning against her son's broad chest,
resting her head on his shoulder. That left only Stiles without a companion and
though Erica and Boyd only had Mr. Argent sitting between them, the man had
wanted to spend New Year with his daughter after all.
Still Stiles did not claim a place, instead a looked at Derek with a small,
nearly shy smile. Only too willing to provide warmth and comfort, Derek slid
down the wall and opened his arms for Stiles. The teenager took the invitation,
leaning back against Derek to get as much heat as possible, announcing quietly,
"Ladies and Gentleman, Happy New Year."
Amazed, Derek looked up because fireworks started to explode around them. They
were close enough to enjoy them in all their glory, something Derek had always
avoided in New York since they were loud and they stank. But here, in Beacon
Hills, on top of the Stilinski residence, the werewolf could watch the night-
sky lighting up in magical colours, without having to suffer the noise and the
smell. For more than half an hour several neighbours shot firework after
firework and they all watched it wordlessly.
Even when everything was over, the pack still stayed outside, watching the
stars in the sky, simply revelling in being together. After nearly an hour,
where everybody had followed his own train of thoughts lingering on the edge of
sleep, Stiles patted Derek on the knee, prompting his family, "We should go to
bed."
There was a lot of rising and shuffling, where Peter got a little lost in the
amount of legs on the balcony, when out of the blue Erica spoke, "I want to
sleep with Derek tonight. He's one of us now Stiles, and you said we could if
he chose us."
Peter was unable to bite back a growl when he pressed forth between the bodies
of the teenagers, positioning himself between his nephew and the blonde before
he could even think about it. Still he didn't weaver, willing to protect the
only family member he had in this pack. Things would be different if he were
human, but his wolf couldn't help himself. Derek was barely more than a pup in
his eyes and needed protection.
He didn't count on Derek pulling him back gently, keeping him from making the
mistake of attacking a member of his new pack. When he took his next breath he
was confused by the smell of undiluted joy his nephew extruded. Torn between
defending his sister's son and keeping tabs on what this pack was doing, he
barely comprehended when Ethan nodded in agreement, stating quietly. "Yes, me
too."
Followed by Boyd who nodded his agreement and Lydia reaching out for Derek,
placing a hand on his arm. Peter nearly lost his footing by turning around to
keep track of all the teenagers who claimed his nephew. They seemed like an
overwhelming force with Derek standing between them. How his nephew was not
afraid of the prospect of being in the middle of some kind of gang-bang Peter
didn't understand.
                                     ~ * ~
Derek was overwhelmed, though he believed that he had misunderstood Erica's
request. When Ethan repeated it, with Danny agreeing wordlessly, Boyd nodding
his consent and Lydia reaching for him he felt a bubble of joy swelling in his
chest. When finally Scott nodded and stated quietly, "Yes, I would like to
sleep with you as well. It's the right way to start this New Year." It was as
if the sun had risen, so bright was the smile on Derek's face.
Looking at Stiles, the only member of the pack he had shared a bed with until
now, Derek hoped that his human Alpha would share his pack's feelings. As much
as he felt honoured, overwhelmed really, by his new family's desire to be close
to him, he couldn't even think about sleeping away from Stiles tonight of all
nights. Not after he had finally understood what unbelievable gift this boy had
held in store for him. Stiles reached for Derek's neck and touched their
foreheads, "So let's find a place to pile, gorgeous."
Stiles could feel Derek shiver under his fingertips, so he prompted the others.
"Prepare the cinema, we'll be with you in a minute."
When the others spilled out to prepare a sleeping place for the pack, Stiles
looked at Derek, who had his eyes firmly trailed on the floor.
"Derek?"
"Yea?" The werewolf's voice sounded thick with emotions, as if he was barely
able to keep himself together.
"It's over." Stiles whispered, pulling Derek close, wrapping his arms around
the wolf, holding him as strong as he was able to. "You're one of us now, and
nobody will ever make you leave." He assured the wolf, who took his time,
audibly concentrated on his breathing. But after a few moments of Stiles not
letting go, Derek clutched the teenager's shirt as if the boy would vanish the
next second.
Patiently, Stiles held him, an arm around the small of his back, a hand wrapped
around Derek's neck, holding on fast to the trembling wolf in his arms. If his
shirt got drenched with tears and his jacket got claw-marks all over its back,
nobody would ever know since Stiles knew how to hide such little slips from his
pack. Derek still didn't looked at him when he pulled back after a while,
nodding obediently when Stiles nudged him towards the house, telling him to
shower before bed.
                                     ~ * ~
Once Derek was gone, Stiles turned towards the edge. He had tried to hold back,
to hold everything in for the entire evening because he hadn't wanted to
frighten Derek with his emotions. But now, Stiles couldn't keep himself in
check any longer, he started snickering, laughing out loud until tears of joy
were running down his cheeks. He felt like bursting from happiness. Tonight had
been a gamble and despite his lack of preparation he had won. Won more than one
wolf's allegiance and he felt like shouting his happiness from the top of his
roof.
He pressed his hands together, slowly pulling them apart, concentrating on his
energy, forcing it out of his body so that he would not burst. When he finally
let go lighting illuminated the night in the most vibrant colours, connecting
Stiles to every part of his own home and the closest area of his territory. He
didn't know how long he allowed this storm of emotion getting the better of
him, but when he finally lowered his hands, he felt a set of strong arms
warping around him from behind.
"That was pretty amazing, bro," Scott whispered into his ear, holding him
upright now that Stiles had exhausted himself. "But our wolves are waiting for
you, one of them even more anxiously than the others."
"I know," Stiles gave in, allowing his best friend to help him through his
evening routine before stumbling down the stairs. When they entered the cinema
the three-level cushioned surface had been equalled so that it made one, huge
platform where they could all snuggle together.
It was no surprise for Stiles to see Derek lying in the middle, Erica wrapped
around him from behind, Lydia at the top and Allison was smiling at the nervous
wolf from a distance. Tension seemed to drain out of Derek when Stiles crawled
onto the platform, claiming the spot beside him, turning so the wolf could wrap
around him from behind.
Scott followed his best friend, using Stiles thigh as a cushion, arms wrapped
around Allison's legs when the girl lay in the arms of her other boyfriend.
Peter was the only one who walked around the platform, lying down in a corner
shortly before picking up his pacing again. He looked at the teenagers, unsure
if he wanted to sneer at them for the undignified puppy pile or hop onto the
bed to snuggle up to them.
Nobody said anything for a little while, but after the quarter of an hour Scott
whispered, "Lydia, get your wolf to stop patrolling." And Stiles continued, "As
long as he's not up here, none of us will find any rest."
Low mumbles assured Peter that everybody shared the opinion of the two Alphas,
to his amazement even Scott's mother and Allison's father muttered their
agreement. So Peter slowly rose from his place on the floor and jumped onto the
platform when Lydia held her hand out for him.
He allowed his instincts to guide him, when he curled up behind Lydia and
Aiden, as far away from the hunter as possible, but still, when the girl traded
places with her boyfriend turning her back on Derek, waving her fingers through
his unruly pelt, he felt tension draining out of him he had not even noticed to
be his constant companion over the last few years. Looking at the security
monitors he realized that the clock was about to strike two when he finally
closed his eyes. Two hours into the New Year and at least a small part of his
family finally seemed to have found a pack that cared for them.
He drifted off to Stiles' and Scott's quiet whispers, "Welcome to the family."
                                     ~ * ~
***** Everyday life *****
Chapter Summary
     Derek's new life as a real part of the Stilinsky-McCall pack. (And a
     little bit how Peter sees it.)
Chapter Notes
     Since I'm a little out of it at the moment, it might happen that I
     forget to update this story regularly. If I do so, please nudge me,
     because I don't want to keep you waiting intentionally.
The next day they stayed in bed until lunchtime. Mrs. McCall and Mr. Argent had
already left, but the pack stayed huddled up, enjoying that they had nothing to
do and could simply revel in being close. At some point, somebody started the
entertainment system and they watched the news, the discovery channel and some
old TV-show after that.
To Derek, this entire situation felt surreal. Here he was, by choice,
surrounded by a family who had accepted him and did everything to make him feel
welcome. During their first movie-night, when he had unknowingly made Stiles
sad by choosing Indian food, he had been allowed to sit close to Erica and
Boyd. He had been tense and unsure but the blonde and her boyfriend had done
everything to ease him.
Now Erica had her head in his lap and Boyd sat behind the two of them,
occasionally carding his fingers through Derek's hair. But Boyd was not the
only one; Ethan lay on Danny's lap who sat right beside Derek. The werewolf
occasionally reached for his leg, drawing patterns onto it with his fingers.
Allison and Isaac sat in front of them, Isaac absentmindedly toying with the
hem of Derek's pyjama bottoms. When he turned around, he could see Scott and
Stiles, lying splayed out behind Boyd, Stiles half wrapped around the dark
skinned teenager so that he could see, Scott hugging his friend from behind,
resting his chin on Stiles' shoulder.
People turned, twisted and shifted occasionally and though there didn't seem to
be a pattern at the beginning, after a while Derek noticed that the people
closest to him would trade places with the others. With a smile Derek realized
that the pack was scenting him. Lydia was the only exception; she lay on her
stomach, with Peter as her cushion. Aiden, who had just traded places with his
brother, occasionally brushed her enticing long legs, but concentrated on Derek
more than on his own girlfriend. With a smile, Derek closed his eyes, leaning
against … whoever sat behind him at the moment, simply revelling in the feeling
of being wanted. He had not felt like this for a very long time, and a part of
him wondered if his family had ever given him such boundless affection. Right
now, he really could not remember.
                                     ~ * ~
Peter was … confused, to say at least and only partially by his own,
uncharacteristically submissive behaviour. A few hours ago, he would have
thought it completely impossible to serve as a cushion for a teenage girl, but
when Lydia had turned on the mattress, wrapping her arms around his neck, using
it as a prop, he had not even thought about turning away. Now he was stuck,
with a girl occasionally kneading his ears and carding her fingers through his
wiry pelt. That he smelled like wood and wet earth because he had not gotten a
chance to shower until now didn't seem to bother the redhead in the slightest.
He looked at Isaac, who sat wrapped around Derek from behind, steadying him
where his nephew seemed to have fallen asleep again. This teenager had been
scared of his own shadow before Peter had given him the bite, maybe even after
for a while. He had truly been an annoyance because he had not grown into the
strength of a wolf as Peter had expected him to, but had held on to the fear
his father had instilled on him his entire life. Peter had not paid attention
to him long enough to decide that he was worth the effort. Now, however, the
tall boy seemed more than comfortable in his own skin. Thanks to the raven-
haired hunter by his side and his Alpha who seemed to enjoy tickling his sides
before running his hand soothingly over the warm flesh Isaac displayed by not
wearing a pyjama-top.
Erica had been nothing but a weak, sick girl, introverted and frightened of
social confrontation. The bite had taken instantly with her, boosting her
confidence, making her care for herself and putting herself on display. But it
had all been a show, because even here, without make-up, hair twisted into two
messy ponytails and an oversized pyjama top that clearly belonged to her
boyfriend, she displayed an easy confidence that had nothing to do with
appearances and everything with the certainty of being strong and loved and
cared for.
Boyd, well Boyd had been a gamble right from the beginning. Erica had sunk her
claws into him soon after his transformation, but instead of being smitten with
her and therefore foolish like all teens, Boyd had displayed a great strength
of mind despite being in desperate need of a pack, since his family had not
cared for him.
Peter might have abandoned them too soon, but he would have never been able to
give them what they had needed to grow into the people they were now.
Scott … well, Scott might have been his greatest mistake. Peter couldn't allow
himself any illusions of gaining strength and influence in this pack by
overthrowing its Alpha. Because on one hand, there were two of them – one not
even being a werewolf – and two, these kids were loyal to a fault. The
werewolf, who had worked the streets for his sister, earning himself a truly
horrible reputation, had kept tabs on all of the wolves he had bitten, albeit
superficially. They flew under the radar at the best of times and proved
unrelenting and vicious when it came to defending their territory at the worst
of times.
Stiles and Scott made a team of leaders not even his own sister would be able
to overthrow, because their pack didn't follow them out of loyalty, or respect
or fear - they followed them out of love. That was a combination no amount of
money or influence could ever overcome. They had even accepted him, hell,
coaxed him into joining their pack and though he would have to work his way up
from the position of the Omega, it was apparent that if he played his cards
right, he could reach a status of being accepted and cared for in under six
months. His nephew was proof for that.
                                     ~ * ~
The next days were busy. Derek followed Isaac and Danny to the company and
Peter stayed with Lydia during her seemingly unrelated excursions to the most
uncommon places in town. Her only requirement seemed to be something to sit
upon and a flat surface where she could put up her laptop. While visiting the
local park, Peter started to run wild, daring her to call him back. He returned
by himself though, when he heard her shiver. Wrapping around her from behind on
the broad stone-bench she was sitting upon, she leaned back and groaned, "Thank
you, you’re a blessing with fur!" Before typing away on her little machine.
Peter remained stock-still behind her. Her voice had indicated that she had not
even thought about the words that had just escaped her. Still her smell
confirmed that she was really glad for him to be here. That was an unexpected
turn of events. True, the wolves he had bitten had wanted him, but he could
write that off as a biological imperative. But with Lydia it was different. The
bite had not changed her; she was still human, at least to Peter's knowledge.
Therefore her sympathy for him was just that, sympathy, and the werewolf did
not really know how to deal with that. Nobody liked him these days.
Long after sundown Peter and Lydia returned to the Stilinski-house, hearing
shouting from the living room. When Aiden appeared in the doorway of the
kitchen, Lydia smiled a little. Nudging the wolf, she prompted Peter, "Go and
find out what's going on, I am sure that if your ears get any longer you will
change into a donkey." And with that she vanished upstairs, her boyfriend hot
on her heels.
Stiles was the one currently shouting at a very angry Derek, who stood in the
middle of the living room, arms folded stubbornly over his chest. "This system
works for us ever since my parents build this company. It's acknowledged by
every member of our staff as well as the fiscal authorities!"
"That does not mean that there is no room for improvement," Derek shot back
annoyed. "You had me study all of your damn books and now, when I suggest a
sensible improvement you throw 'because that's the way it has always been' into
my face? I'm reasonable and you know it and I make this proposition at the
perfect moment. You don't even have a single new accounting record in your
journals, because the year has just begun. You are just stubborn!" Peter was
amused by the accuracy with which his nephew was imitating his Alpha. Also he
was astonished that nobody seemed to come to Stiles' defence when a werewolf
was yelling at him. No, all the teenagers had found places on the couch, the
loveseat or armrests of the two, watching the shouting match like a sports
event.
"The last time you tried to change something, you nearly frightened my
accountant into a heart attack!" Stiles bellowed.
"Because he was stealing from you!" Derek roared, eyes shining in the brightest
blue, claws digging into his palms in his effort to hold back.
Peter was very surprised that no member of this pack felt the need to step
between a mere human and a werewolf who was currently at the edge of control.
Even more so, when Stiles looked at his nephew with a near glacial gaze,
stating coldly, "You think you are so clever that you can come up with
something better? Fine, I will get you a hardcopy of the system, if you can get
me a workable prototype before the seventh we will try."
And with that he turned his back towards the hard-breathing werewolf, leaving
for the kitchen.
It was Isaac who piped up as soon as Stiles had left, "And who won now? That
was quite unsatisfying."
Scott, who sat perched on the backrest of the loveseat, caressing Allison's
head where she was leaning against his knee, put a hand on Isaac's shoulder.
Honestly, why was this boy so handsy with a pack-member's girlfriend? Was it
common with these teenagers to share, or had the Alpha special privileges? The
teenager looked at Derek, who had found his calm again, when answering. "Since
Derek can move freely for now, I would say that he won.
"Despite wolfing out towards his Alpha." He added sharply as an afterthought.
Shame was pouring off of Derek in waves, and his head dropped in defeat. Would
Scott punish him now for showing himself so disrespectful towards the human
leader of this family? Peter looked after him, when his nephew left the room,
following the human. When he patted after him, Scott commanded, "Don't! Give
them some privacy, Peter."
                                     ~ * ~
Derek felt horrible after Scott's sharp comment. He had thought about this
book-keeping system for quite a while now. The Red Hood Trading Company would
be the perfect opportunity to introduce it. It reduced the amount of double
entries, as well as making it easier to follow the flow of money. To put it
simple it meant flagging certain money-transfers in a different way to keep
track of them and using the same journals for every department. He had tried
this while caring for his family's books and it had worked, despite a mob-
journals being much more complicated than the ones of a legal company.
Still, when he had proposed it to Stiles, the teenager had shut him off. But
after becoming a member of this pack, he wanted to be heard; wanted his ideas
for improvement to be acknowledged. He would never interfere with Lydia's
books, but the Company was something else entirely. He had not even realized
how far he had lost his composure, until Scott had mentioned it. Now he was
terribly ashamed and a feeling of unease was twisting his stomach.
Was Stiles regretting of giving him a chance to stay already? Would Derek's
display of independence earn him distance from his human Alpha? Honestly, that
was the last thing he wanted. He had just wanted to help but had lost it
spectacularly and honestly, Derek didn't have the faintest clue of how to fix
this.
When he entered the kitchen, he heard the door being closed after him. Stiles
stood with his back to Derek, not acknowledging in any way that the wolf had
entered, focussed on brewing a cup of coffee. The set of Stiles' shoulders was
hard and unyielding and his emotions seemed closed off in a way Derek had only
witnessed when Stiles was working in the streets.
"Stiles …"
No reaction.
"Alpha?" A quiet request for attention but still, Stiles didn't turn around. He
kept stirring the milk in his coffee, despite the liquid being long since
distributed.
The teenager finally turned around, after hearing a low whine from Derek, whose
eyes were firmly glued to the floor, radiating anxiety and unhappiness. The
werewolf's voice was thick when he admitted, "I am sorry, really sorry. I know
that I should not have lost my composure. Please, don't … don't …," Derek
didn't even know how to address his fear. He didn't want to give Stiles any
ideas by suggesting that Stiles would throw him out of his room even though
that was the most likely punishment for his insolence.
With an exhausted sigh, Stiles put his cup aside, reached for the morning
paper, rolled it up before swatting Derek over the head with it. The werewolf
yipped in surprise, rubbing his head. "That's how I deal with unruly puppies.
Stop looking like I am about to hang you. Honestly, have a little faith! No, I
am not happy that you were shouting at me, but I saw exactly how you dealt with
the change. Your aggression was not directed towards me, so stop looking as if
I will push you against a wall to shoot you."
"I'm sorry, it won't happen again." Derek whispered brokenly, unsure of how to
deal with Stiles' easy acceptance.
Sighing again, Stiles slid onto the counter and pulled Derek into his arms, so
that Derek's forehead was resting against his chest. This pup still had so much
to learn about how things were dealt with in this pack. Sure Stiles didn't like
people talking back at him, but where if not in this house could he allow his
pack to express their thoughts and feelings? He wasn't fond of wolves showing
claws, flashing their eyes or baring their teeth, but most of his friends were
part animal, supernatural animals but animal nevertheless. Derek's wolf was
even stronger, since he had been born with it.
"This is your home, Derek." Stiles assured him, while petting the werewolf's
neck soothingly. "You are allowed to let go in here as long as you don't hurt
anyone. And if you think you can come up with an easier accountancy system, by
all means try. But if you frighten Mr. Bale one more time, you are banned from
the Company. Are we clear?"
"Yes, Alpha."
When Stiles nudged Derek's head a little, so that the werewolf had to look into
his eyes, he raised his eyebrows, enjoying the tiny smile he was able to pull
from Derek when the wolf whispered, "Yes, Stiles. I'll try to be nice to your
little human accountant as long as he keeps his sticky paws to himself."
Kissing Derek's forehead, Stiles grinned broadly, assuring him, "That's all I
am asking. And now let's return to the living room, before they break through
the door in their efforts to listen in, despite having werewolf hearing!"
Stiles raised his voice for the last words and Derek could imagine the wolves
inside the living room winching, because they had been so very attentive.
When they returned to the living room, Stiles picked up his pad and returned to
his armchair, with Derek relaxing against the side of it with a notebook in
hand. He closed his eyes and relaxed when Stiles toyed with his hair,
continuing his work when the caresses didn't stop for the rest of the evening.
                                     ~ * ~
It actually was easier than Derek would have estimated to introduce his new
idea on his first day back in the office. Mr. Bale, who still looked at him as
if Derek would bite of his head any moment, relaxed gradually over the next few
hours where the werewolf explaining his idea. Together they sketched out a
system, the accountant feeding Derek new ideas for further improvement. When
they asked for Danny's help, because they would need several modifications to
their book-keeping program, the incubus was pleasantly surprised at how well
Derek was able to work with this human.
He told Derek as much when they returned home that evening, and despite looking
out of the window, Danny felt Derek blushing beside him. For a moment the
teenager wondered how much praise the werewolf had gotten over the last few
years for the extraordinary work he had done for his family. All of the
information he had gathered for his boss regarding Derek's activities in New
York spoke of the young man more or less single-handedly dealing with the
Hale's trade in the big city. Though they had only held a small territory, it
was still a lot for a single person to keep up with. It seemed that nobody had
ever made the effort to tell Derek how good he had done and Danny decided that
at least he would keep up with praising the werewolf when a compliment was due.
                                     ~ * ~
***** Truths *****
Chapter Summary
     A few uncomfortable truths are put on the table.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
From the third to the sixth of January, Derek had stacks upon stacks of paper
distributed over the living-room table to create a working specification for
the modifications Danny needed to make to the Red Hood Trading Company's
bookkeeping program.
Peter had been following Lydia around like the obedient dog he was supposed to
be. Yet this morning the girl had requested for him to stay behind since she
had private matters to attend to. That gave Peter time to observe his nephew
more closely, interacting with the members of his, well, their new pack, as
well as alone. For quite a while Derek had only smelled of misery and
loneliness whenever he had come home from his self-imposed exile in New York.
Now things were different. His nephew seemed to flourish under the attention he
received and despite mocking him inwardly for the eagerness with which Derek
accepted these teenagers' touch and easy comradery, Peter couldn't deny that he
too felt much more at ease … no, felt much less pain than he had while staying
with his own family after the fire. Talia had allowed him to execute his
revenge. However she had kept him bound to her side, even after he had killed
an Alpha for her, demanding submission, despite his new strength.
But these kids, they were another matter entirely. They worked, lived and loved
as a family. They even fought when they disagreed and despite being given
respect and appreciation, Scott and Stiles never bested them or made decisions
over their heads like his sister did with the Hale-pack. These people were a
family in the truest sense of the word and after seeing Lydia talk to some of
their assets, it seemed that even the people working for them or those under
their care shared the sentiment. Stiles was a Don in the truest sense of the
word: a person who took care of his territory and everybody who fell under his
protection. The police in Beacon Hills was more or less a joke, despite having
a member of the FBI – Scott McCall's father as he had learned – with them.
Without Stiles this town would fall into chaos and no matter how little Peter
liked to admit to it, he respected the young human Alpha for that.
Nevertheless, he was amused by the way Derek seemed to wag around Stiles
whenever the boy was around. Not that he had room to judge. For now, every
night but the first one, he had chosen a spot on the floor in the corner of
Lydia's room. There was something going on with the girl he couldn't quite
pinpoint yet, but he was determined to find out. The fact that he felt a strong
connection between them was … a mere coincidence. Additionally, that he was
effectively cock-blocking her boyfriend was a constant source of amusement,
since Lydia didn't seem to particularly mind.
"You don't have to remain in your wolf form all the time, you know?" Derek half
asked and half stated while scribbling more notes to a sheet of paper before
placing it at the middle of a pile of spreadsheets, gesturing over his shoulder
he gestured towards a cupboard. "There are sweats in there."
The truth was, this was the first time that Peter heard that and for a moment
he was not sure if Derek was leading him on, or if his nephew's assessment was
sound. He had not even felt trapped in his pelt until this very moment, where
Derek had pointed out that he could think of it as a requirement. To make his
point, Derek shoved his plate towards the edge of the table. He had prepared a
roast beef sandwich for lunch and had only eaten half of it.
Peter had been fed and given water on the floor and had not even thought about
it. But now the idea that he might have gotten into such a submissive mind-set
than he had thought and even more accepted that being on the floor on all fours
was required to be a part of this pack, disgusted him. Still, a part of his
stomach knotted when he changed and swiftly put on a worn shirt and soft,
slightly too large pants to cover himself. Instead of letting his unease show
he reached for the sandwich and bit into it with relish to swallow down his
feelings. Masking his emotions Peter bickered, "And you don't have to bounce
around Stiles like a lost puppy. But apparently you find particular joy in
that, since you do it all the time."
"I don't," Derek snapped, glaring at his uncle, but Peter merely stole his
juice to wash down the sandwich.
His uncle raised his eyebrows, calling Derek wordlessly on the too fast
contradiction. His nephew was far too emotional for Peter not to have hit home,
so he exploited the reaction, "You know, if you tell him that you are entirely
infatuated with him, he might even allow you to sleep on the bed with him."
Angrily, Derek muttered, hiding his flaming cheeks by lowering his head again.
"I can sleep in his bed whenever I feel like it, just like every other member
of this pack. And I do take him up on the offer now and then." Nearly every
night, whenever Derek found a reason to justify it - but he wouldn't reveal
that to his uncle. Instead he continued provocatively, "I don't curl up in a
corner of his room, watching him from afar, not daring to approach."
And didn't that hit far too close to home for Peter's liking as well. So his
fascination with Lydia was as apparent to his nephew as Derek's ardour on
Stiles were for him. To derail his nephew from this train of thought, Peter
snickered menacingly, "Well, I was given to Lydia, was I not? I am sure that if
you told Stiles about your crush, the teenager would eventually lend you a hand
to ease these lonely nights of yours. Maybe he is even entertained by gaining a
werewolf pet that is, as of now, without any attachment." Closing in on his
nephew, going on for the jugular, Peter whispered into his ear, "Word on the
street has it that Stiles can be very creative. If you are a good, little pup,
maybe he will bring you out to play."
Briskly, Derek pushed back, gathering up his papers. Angry and embarrassed he
hissed at his uncle, "You know what, I take it back. Better you remain in wolf-
form. At least you can't spew nonsense this way!" before leaving for Stiles'
study, slamming the door shut behind himself.
                                     ~ * ~
Shivering, Derek sank onto the couch, clutching his notes tight to his chest.
Coming here had been a bad idea! No room in this house, not even Stiles'
bedroom, smelled as purely of this teenager as this one. This office was sacred
and rarely any member of the pack dared to enter. Everything in here was about
Stiles, from the computer, to the board above it. From the books about history,
accounting, law and customs regulations on one side, to volumes about herbals
and wildlife, biological surveys and a few exemplars on predators in the US
right to the comic corner that covered nearly one meter of wall, everything
sorted by season and publication date.
Being in here did nothing to ease Derek's longing. The worst of this bickering
with his uncle was, that Peter was absolutely right. He felt at ease around his
human Alpha and not only because Stiles made him feel safe. The human was
careful and caring, supportive and sweet nearly all the time. At least until
Derek screwed up, but even then he never pushed Derek away, as if knowing that
this was the worst punishment he could dish out, reserving it for special
situations.
Derek would have liked to feel special because of this treatment and the boy's
easy acceptance of him in his bed. But the truth was, Stiles was like this with
everybody. No member of the pack was ever pushed away, not even Allison when
she was seeking contact, despite her not even being a wolf. Scott came as
easily to Stiles' room as Lydia or Danny or anybody else. The head of the
Stilinski-family had open ears and arms for all of them. Derek really was
nothing special, and didn't that thought hurt like a knife through the guts?
Derek had wished for a place where he belonged, had believed that he would be
happy if he ever found one. But now that he had a pack who wanted him, who
protected him and chose him over four millions dollars – a ridiculously large
sum, even for them – he wanted more. He wanted to be desired, to be loved even
though he knew that this was completely out of the question, since Stiles
didn't have a deeper interest in him than he had in any other pack member. Sure
the teenager might react to proximity, might feel lust when they snuggled
together, but Derek wrote that off as hormones, Stiles was quite young after
all. It was not as if Derek was someone he wanted to bed, he had made that very
clear, right after Derek had come here.
                                     ~ * ~
When Derek went into hiding, Peter felt slightly at a loss for things to do.
Sure, taunting his nephew had been fun, but now he was alone in a house where
he … where he honestly didn't even know if he was allowed to touch anything.
Usually he would simply go for it, try to challenge the Alpha and test his
boundaries. But on one hand, he was not sure how far the influence of the
collar went – it sure felt like magic even if it did not subdue him at the
moment – and on the other hand, he was here of his own volition. He had chosen
this, being with the wolves he had bitten, the closest thing to a family he
could imagine.
So he tried to play it cool and enjoy the calm before the storm. He picked a
book and sank into the only armchair. It turned out that the book on the
beneficial use of herbs was quite interesting, so Peter didn't even notice the
sun going down. Only when teenagers started spilling through the door did he
look up. He watched them taking out their gang-symbol – black studs in the
ears, a very unimaginative choice in his opinion – taking off their shoes,
spilling into the living-room.
Peter was aware that business started to pick up after Christmas and New Year
so he was not surprised when the boys and girls fell onto the couch, simply
putting up their feet, groaning in fatigue. What did surprise him though, was
that nobody mentioned him being out of his fur. They all merely nodded at him
or offered tired smiles, before closing their eyes. The Alpha sank into the
love-seat, the huntress following him. Peter wondered if Stiles' enforcer knew
about the affair of his girlfriend. Stiles and Isaac were the last to enter,
and to Peter's surprise, both Allison and Scott smiled at the tall boy, while
Allison shifted to make room and the Alpha opened his arms.
Isaac sank into them, shivering slightly when Scott pulled him close and
Allison snuggled into him from behind. Peter was surprised by the open display
of affection between Scott and Isaac when the werewolf bent up to kiss his
Alpha. Apparently, relationships in this pack could contain more than two
people. Looking at Lydia, who sat on the couch, with her boyfriend massaging
her feet while she groomed him, he wondered how far she was willing to go, but
pushed the thought aside immediately. Sure Lydia would be a good companion, but
Peter would never allow himself to get as besotted as his nephew with a mere
human.
When he was hit over the head with a newspaper he growled, but Stiles voice
merely admonished him tiredly, "That's my seat, buzz off."
"And pray, where would my Alpha like me to sit instead? I certainly won't roll
around your feet like my nephew." Peter warned as an afterthought, not wanting
the human leader of this family to get any ideas.
Snickering, sinking boneless into his chair, Stiles looked up at Peter,
"Honestly, you could sit on my lap and I wouldn't mind at the moment, as long
as I don't have to move again, and can put my feet up."
The coffee-table was shoved into Stiles' direction and a cushion was placed on
top for the teenager to put his feet upon. Still smiling up at Peter, opening
his arms invitingly, Stiles couldn't suppress a grin, when Peter turned away,
choosing the window seat instead, where he had all the people in the room
within view. Derek too had emerged from his hiding place and after returning
his papers to the dining table, looked unsure of where to sit. Peter saw
exactly that his gaze was wandering towards the carpet right next to Stiles'
armchair, but after their discussion, Derek would need a little incentive
before claiming this place again, too afraid that it would display his feelings
too openly.
Danny, who lay in his boyfriends arms, rolled up like a giant cat. He had
looked at Stiles for the last few moments. Still the boy enjoyed making out
with Ethan since he had missed him dearly during the stressful day. But now
Danny felt settled, able to think clearly again. Whenever things became too
stressful, his demonic side demanded attention. That did not always help when
dealing with new customers of the not so legal kind. But after Ethan had taken
care of him, promising a hot bath with a massage of all the right places right
after dinner, the teenager felt far more settled.
That's why it irked him even more that his master was the exact opposite of
content. Stiles tried to appear relaxed and tired, but Danny could feel the
underlying tension in his boss's body. Looking at his boyfriend, gesturing
towards his master, he was relieved when Ethan opened his arms. If it was not
life and death the twin would always be Danny's first priority and if Ethan
felt uncomfortable with Danny touching another, the demon wouldn't do it. It
was fun to kiss and fuck other people, but Ethan took good care of him, gave
him everything he needed and Danny would never put that at risk. Still he was
tremendously grateful that Ethan was not the jealous type.
So the incubus unfolded from his boyfriend's lap and approached Stiles with
sensually swaying hips. Peter nearly spit out the drink he had fetched for
himself when he watched the dark-haired teenager taking off his dress-shirt,
sliding onto Stiles lap, purring seductively, "You can take of the undershirt
as well, if you like."
Peter watched with rapt interest as Stiles tilted his head slightly looking at
Ethan for a moment, and only when the boy nodded with a smile, did he touch the
incubus, running his hands over Danny's still clothed chest, evoking a hiss
from the boy when tweaking his nipples through his shirt. Clearly Stiles was a
fan of power-play, since he dragged his blunt nails over Danny's torso,
demanding quiet but not less forcefully, "You want me to undress you, you have
to ask for it!"
Nails digging into the armchair beside Stiles' head, the teenager on his lap
arched into the touch. "Please, Stiles." He hissed, leaning closer, presenting
himself wantonly.
"Please what, Danny?"
"Oh god!" the teenager choked when his boyfriend slid up behind him, claiming
the cushion on the coffee-table that had just been vacated, dragging not so
blunt nails over his back. Danny tried to reach around, but Ethan pulled back
almost immediately. He clutched his boyfriend's hair, pulling back his head so
much that it had to be painful. Still, Peter, and probably every other wolf who
watched the show with rapt attention, could smell the dizzying wave of lust
spreading in the room.
Ethan insisted, "You wanted Stiles, now concentrate on your master!"
What an odd choice of words, still the demand seemed to be heeded when Danny
pulled himself even closer to Stiles, lips hovering over that of the teenager,
but without kissing him when he begged, "Please, take off my shirt, my
trousers, whatever you want!"
"Really," Stiles teased, pulling the undershirt oh so slowly out of Danny's
trousers, caressing the warm skin under it without taking it off. "You want me
to undress you, maybe even take you, here, in front of your boyfriend, in front
of the entire pack?" Dragging his nails over the boy's side, mirroring Ethan's
gesture from before, Stiles whispered, sure that every last person in this room
could hear him easily. "Or would you even like Ethan to join us? Maybe one of
us fucking your pretty mouth while the other takes you from behind? We could
lay you out on the coffee-table like a sacrifice. Would you like that, pet?"
The sound coming from Danny was not even human, half a purr, half a whimper but
overwhelming the mind of every last person in the room. Peter saw black
bleeding into the teenager's eyes and was at Stiles side before he had made the
decision to move. At the edge of his awareness he registered his nephew lunging
for him but Derek was a tick too slow, before he closed his clawed hand around
the creature's throat that was currently subduing his Alpha.
What happened next, was too fast for Peter to comprehend. He heard fabric
ripping apart, an annoyed huff and a frustrated sigh, and felt blinding pain.
When he finally regained his senses, he was pinned to the floor by the razor-
sharp tip of a black, leathery wing that was nailing his right shoulder to the
floor. A midnight-blue demon with black horns, vicious teeth and sharp claws
sat perched on Stiles lap. Or was the boy actually holding that creature in
place?
This entire situation was absurd, nothing about it made sense to Peter. The
demon before him was the stuff nightmares were made of. Surely he was
hallucinating, since nobody in this room seemed to be worried about what was
happening. Only Derek was hovering at the edge of the fight. Jealousy poured
off of him in waves when Danny had climbed into Stiles' lap, but now his nephew
was concerned, yet not for Stiles, with his lap full of monster, but for him.
Maybe he was still at the hospital where he had recovered after the fire. He
had fallen into a healing trance, but it had not always been restful. After the
loss of his wife and unborn child, bad dreams had kept Peter from healing for
more than a year, and the mere idea that he still was there and that this was
nothing but a figment of his imagination frightened him.
"Danny?" Stiles voice was calm and controlled when he addressed the teenager,
demon, what the hell was that creature?
When the creature did not react, Stiles nodded at Ethan who stepped back a
little. He had been forced back on the coffee table by the giant wings that had
sprouted from the demon's back, but still he had hovered. How was all of this
even real, Peter wondered? Still, the Alpha did not appear to be worried in the
slightest. More forceful than before, Stiles demanded the creature's attention.
"Daniel Mahealani, you will release your pack-member this instant!"
The tone did leave no room for argument, but still, the demon only reluctant
pulled back his clawed wing, looking down at Peter with black eyes, that still
seemed to radiate fury. Petulant he said, "He is not allowed to touch me!"
Stiles gently caressed Danny's face, soothingly rubbing his back under the
wings, pulling the attention of the demon back to himself. His voice was softer
now, nearly loving when he agreed. "That's true. But you didn't tell him so
beforehand. Your eyes were changing, because you liked the picture I was
painting for you. Peter was merely defending his Alpha. You can't really hold
that against him, can you?"
"No," Danny mumbled, burying into Stiles, avoiding his eyes like a child that
was scolded. The situation was so ridiculous that Peter would have laughed, had
his shoulder not hurt like a bitch. He allowed Derek to help him to his feet
and to the love-seat Scott, Allison and Isaac had vacated. The four were
hovering, inspecting his wound, fetching cleaning supplies when Stiles
whispered with the demon.
"I wanted to make you feel good." The demon told the Alpha.
"And I appreciate the sentiment, this was just bad luck." Stiles assured him,
caressing the black skin that showed through the tattered shirt. Slowly the
wings receded, and patches of human skin bloomed from under Stiles' touches.
"Why don't you go with Ethan, pet. I know that a full transformation drains
you. Fuck and we can maybe try this again after dinner if you want. Alright?"
Nodding, Danny stood up, slightly shaky, reaching for his boyfriend, who put
his arm around the teenager's waist. Looking slightly heartfelt, Danny mumbled,
"I am sorry, Master."
Stiles however, only looked up at him, shaking his head. "It was not I who you
injured, so I'm not the one you should be apologizing to."
Danny turned around, looking at Peter who was fussed over by Isaac and Scott,
after he had flinched briefly when Allison had touched him. Still, instead of
Stiles' prompting, Danny simply glared at Peter, before vanishing up the
stairs.
When he was out of sight, Stiles shook his head and looked at Peter.
The wound had hurt like a bitch, but with Scott and Isaac pulling the pain from
it, it was already healing. They had explained something about an herb that
would help him heal a wound from an incubus faster, but he had only listened
with half an ear. An incubus in a pack of wolves! This was getting better and
better. And better still, when Stiles grinned at him sheepishly. "I think Peter
should be the one deciding the take-away tonight."
Getting wounded by a demon meant choosing dinner. Peter wondered if his life
could get any weirder.
                                     ~ * ~
Chapter End Notes
     mizukihikari one of my faithful readers, has an assignment for class
     and would really profit if you could fill out this survey for her:
     https://www.surveymonkey.com/s/R2LRV2J
     It is about same sex parings in fan-fiction and since you had so much
     fun reading this story where there is, let's be honest, quite a heavy
     amount of same-sex pairings, I hoped that you would take a few
     moments to help.
     Thank you very much for taking your time.
     Anchanee
***** An Invasion of Privacy *****
Chapter Summary
     Private matters are revealed and for Derek and Peter it is not
     necessarily a pleasant revelation.
Chapter Notes
     A lots of thanks to my betas Memprime and Wecantgiggleatacrimescene.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
When Ethan and Danny came down forty minutes later, dinner was in the process
of being distributed on the table. The incubus was positively glowing, his skin
radiant and his eyes shone with satisfaction and happiness. That changed
however, when he saw Peter.
Determined the demon in human form approached the werewolf and instinctively
the wolf put down the bag he had held to have both hands free. He straightened
to meet the demon on equal footing. When Danny didn't stop his approach, the
wolf took half a step back before catching himself and holding his ground.
Danny looked down at him wordlessly and Peter gave into his nature as his eyes
flashed red and he growled sub vocally. As an Alpha Peter really couldn't let
this creature best him.
Black was once again bleeding into Danny's eyes as he glowered down at the
newest werewolf. After a few tense moments the teenager spoke in a rich, deep
tone, "I don't like being touched when I am with my master. I don't know you
and I don't trust you. So please, don't do it again."
This was not going the way Peter had expected. There should be threats,
challenges, the proof that the newest member of the pack was at the bottom of
the hacking order. Unsure of what this politely phrased request should
accomplish, Peter merely nodded his head. "Agreed."
He absolutely did not flinch when the teenager raised his human hand and pulled
aside Peter's ruined shirt to inspect the healing wound. Brushing over it with
his fingertips, Peter felt a pleasant heat seeping into his bones, making him
feel better right away. Danny's eyes were back to normal when the teenager
spoke sincerely as an afterthought, "I apologize for hurting you."
He didn't add that it would not happen again. Didn't mention that it had been a
mistake or an accident, since both knew these words to be a lie. Danny would
defend himself as it apparently was in his nature and Peter would have to
accept that and stay away from the incubus. Slowly he nodded a second time, not
taking his eyes off the incubus. "Apology accepted."
With that Danny turned away again, crawled onto Ethan's lap, who had reached
for a box of Chinese take away, and stole a pair of chopsticks so that he could
feed his partner.
After a pleasant and relaxed dinner, Peter decided to shower before
transforming again. For now he had not been given a bed or even a closet of a
room like Derek, even though Peter suspected his nephew to spend more time in
Stiles' bedroom than his own. It was easier to just return to his wolf-form and
curl up on the comforter at the foot of Lydia and Ethan's bed. Things would
change eventually, but for now he was strangely content to be close to the girl
that had fastened the collar around his neck. He really didn't plan on
inspecting that thought too thoroughly.
Stiles had vanished into the room where Derek had hidden this afternoon and
Peter was surprised when he heard his nephew's name barked out like a sharp
command a little while later.
                                     ~ * ~
Stiles had needed some tranquillity after the hectic day he had had. So he
retreated to his study to play some GTA. Usually he didn't hide in his home-
office. The wolves needed their Alphas around to be content. But still they
understood that sometimes even for a human without super senses everything
became too noisy. Stiles sighed frustrated when the game wanted to update and
gave permission, leaving his desk to choose a comic for the evening. Iron Man
or Wolverine? Decisions … decisions …
When he turned around after picking one, he found a sheet of paper peeking out
from under the sofa. Reaching for it Stiles wondered when he had last done
paperwork on his couch. Confused he tried to remember when he had actually done
paperwork, since all of his documents were electronic these days. His stomach
filled with anger, when he recognized the handwriting.
He returned to his computer and checked the video-logs, grateful that Danny had
insisted on incorporating his office into their surveillance system. Stiles had
wanted his computer to stay in the blind spot, but the window, the glass-door
and the sofa were will within the cameras' lines of sight. He watched Derek
entering the room, hiding in the corner of the sofa, clutching his paperwork to
his chest. When he pulled up his knees as well, Stiles could see a sheet of
paper slipping to the floor and floating under the couch.
Derek looked confused, nearly frightened and Stiles knew that if he had found
the werewolf on the other side of his door looking like that, he would have
welcomed him in with open arms. He would have tried to ease his pack-member.
But he had not been here and Derek had no right to enter Stiles' sanctuary
without permission. That was the one rule in this house, the only room that was
not free for public use. No other wolf had problems with it. Hell it was not as
if Stiles was not available when they needed him. But coming in here on his own
was not allowed. Ever!
His voice was barely louder than average, but clearly angry, when he opened the
door and called for the wolf who had invaded his privacy. "Derek!"
When the werewolf entered, Stiles could see him blanching. Derek opened his
mouth, probably to apologize, but Stiles would have none of that, so he held up
his hand, interrupting the werewolf before he had had a chance to start.
"Please interpret the signs on the door for me."
Stiles voice was emotionless, cold and detached in a way Derek had rarely seen
him during these last few months. He knew better than to contradict his Alpha
so he turned around obediently, reciting in a shaking voice.
"Forbidden to enter are wolves, cats, dogs, birds, mice, vampires, demons both
male and female, blind people?" At the slight question Derek shook his head,
continuing, "Men and women and I assume elves and fairies. The only exception
is Lydia. She's allowed to come in at any given time."
Coldly, Stiles asked, "Is there a special sign of exception for you on that
door?"
"No, Stiles."
"So I guess it's safe to assume that you don't have permission to enter."
"Yes, Stiles," Derek hung his head, felt his stomach twist at the scolding he
very well knew he deserved.
"I won't ask you why, Derek," Stiles continued as if the wolf had not spoken.
"You were clearly upset and looking for sanctuary."
Derek's head whipped up, looking around until he spotted the inconspicuous
little camera that was mostly hidden by the corkboards Stiles had plastered his
walls with. Of course this room was under surveillance. In the cinema Derek had
seen video-feeds of all the windows and doors.
"However, I think I have made it very clear right from the beginning that this
room is not free for all. Haven't I?"
Derek could only nod, dreading what would come next.
"Good. So you will leave now, and not enter again without my explicit
permission."
Offering the treacherous piece of paper, Derek took it with shaking fingers.
"Yes, Alpha." He then turned and fled, dashing upstairs to hide in his own
room.
                                     ~ * ~
A few minutes after Derek had left, Scott knocked. "Stiles, are you alright?
Derek reeked of anxiety when he ran upstairs."
Gesturing towards his computer from his place at the window where he looked
into their backyard, Stiles heard Scott's sharp intake of breath, when he found
the video from the afternoon.
Angrily, Stiles asked, "Is it really so hard, Scotty?" The wolf-Alpha closed
the door, closing them in, before his best friend could continue his rant.
"There is one damn room in this house I don't want to share. Everything, this
entire building is practically free for public use. I have transformed every
room upstairs into a bedroom for the pack and now I will even have to change my
parents' so that Peter gets a room for himself. He can't sleep like a dog for
the rest of eternity.
"It's really only one room. One fucking room I want for myself, without our
overeager puppies barging in day and night! Is that really too much to ask?"
Approaching his best friend, leaning casually against the other side of the
garden-door, Scott shook his head. "No, it's not. You are doing your best. You
are allowed a place for yourself."
A little pacified, Stiles explained, "He was upset. You saw it. Probably
something Peter said. He's bound to be defensive in a new surrounding with
rules he doesn't know. And we know he's an asshole most of the time. Still, it
doesn't …"
Opening his arms, letting Stiles lean against his shoulder, while loosely
hugging his best friend, Scott whispered. "No it doesn't. You are neither
egotistic nor an asshole for wanting a single room for yourself."
After a while, Scott asked, "Wanna sleep with me tonight?"
After pondering over the question for a few moments, Stiles nodded, powering
down his computer and leaving his office. He had to fight down the impulse to
lock the door. Most members of this house were wolves or other supernatural
creatures. Melissa would never try to come in here, Renata only ever cleaned
and Allison would pick the lock in a heartbeat. It really was nothing but a
gesture but Stiles abhorred to insult his pack with such a blunt display of
distrust.
"I'm tired." – "We'll go to bed." Scott and Stiles said simultaneously, nodding
at their pack. They were seen off with a chorus of soft 'Good Nights', but
nobody asked what was wrong. They trusted their Alphas to share their worries
if something concerned them all.
"I bet it was something Derek did. He smelled really upset when he went
upstairs." Isaac said, seeing Allison nod her agreement. "We'll go looking for
him later. Somehow I don't think that Stiles will sleep in his room tonight."
The Alphas were sleeping together. This weird family got more and more
interesting. Peter was really looking forward to the next day.
                                     ~ * ~
As it turned out, Peter's estimations had been a little too optimistic. It was
barely three in the morning when he heard someone rising and some low mumbling.
When he finally decided that this was worth opening his eyes for, he spotted
Lydia kissing Aiden's head, pulling the blanket higher over his shoulder,
before reaching for her dressing gown, leaving on tiptoes.
When she didn't return for three minutes, usually the longest she needed in the
bathroom at night, Peter decided to investigate. Following her scent, he
spotted her in the kitchen, staring tiredly into a pot of milk, illuminated
only by the meagre light above the oven. The werewolf watched the only human
who had ever rejected the bite and survived with part curiosity and part
concern.
She was clearly unhappy, her usually so straight back hunched, her shoulders
drawn in as if she was trying to protect herself. He could even hear her
shivering occasionally while stirring the milk, breaking up a chunk of
chocolate and throwing the pieces into the steaming liquid. The smell was
delicious and Peter felt his mouth water.
He was surprised by her subdued tone when she stated, "If you want something,
you will have to change. In the cupboard under the picture in the living room
are some shirts and sweatpants."
Peter retrieved a pair of trousers, not bothering with a shirt before returning
to the kitchen. Lydia was currently stirring some cayenne pepper and honey into
the deliciously smelling mixture before distributing it to two cups. Her hands
were shaking slightly, so Peter picked them up, following her to the living
room, where she started to pace in front of the windows. Something was clearly
bothering her and the werewolf realized with surprise that he wanted to help.
Pulling some blankets and pillows into the corner of the main sofa, Peter
mentioned. "Your hot chocolate is getting cold."
He opened his arms without thinking and after a moment or two, Lydia took the
offer, snuggling into his side. He pretended not to enjoy the feeling of this
warm, human body in his arms, who was trusting him that he would keep her safe.
He also, under no circumstances, would ever admit that he was hugging Lydia
tighter when he felt her shiver, putting his cheek on her hair like his and
Talia's mother had done when they had been afraid as kids. Something troubled
her, a lot obviously, but for now she seemed unwilling to talk about it.
Safe in the most unlikely embrace, but too tired to question the comfort, Lydia
closed her eyes, revelling in the relative silence the proximity to the Alpha
who had forced her into her gifts brought her. They drank the hot chocolate in
silence, each following his or her own thoughts. She had had the same dream for
the last three days and yesterday it had slipped into her waking state. She
heard noises, traffic noises to be exact and it started to drive her crazy.
Danger was coming, but she couldn't pinpoint the source. What good was a
banshee who couldn't figure out who was about to die?
The amicable silence made Lydia relaxed more and more, the quieter the noises
became in Peter's embrace. And the more silent they were, the easier she was
able to listen. There were cars and fast ones from the sounds of it. She could
hear people chatting, then shouting and finally fighting. Though she couldn't
make out the words she was aware that things were bordering on getting violent.
There were voices, two voices that somehow sounded familiar but she couldn't
place them.
They were arguing, the sounds of the cars nearly overlapping them, but with
Peter anchoring her, she was able to listen more attentively. They were talking
about … money maybe? They were scared, that much was clear. One voice was more
scared than all the others. Lydia tensed when she heard a gun clocking and
barely a moment before a shot was fired; she recognized a most desperate
pleading. The gunshot was not filtered through Peter's proximity, sounding
loud, deafening in her head.
Lydia covered her ears and screamed.
                                     ~ * ~
Chapter End Notes
     A scene in the show inspired me to the discussion between Scott and
     Stiles in Stiles home-office.
     Can you remember which one?
***** Banshee *****
Chapter Summary
     Remember the blond boy in the woods, the one Danny took as his thrall
     to ensure his sisters loyalty? Yes?
     Well, then have fun with this chapter.
Chapter Notes
     Thanks to my awesome betas I have yet another chapter ready for you.
     Thank you 'Memprime' and 'Wecant...' (well you know her name, look it
     up if you don't remember, I won't write this whole thing down again :
     P.) I really appreciate your support!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Peter felt like he was about to go deaf from the blood-curling scream the girl
in his arms emitted. His ears were still ringing so he registered only
distantly when doors were thrown open. What pushed him out of his daze were
giant wings, folding up. The demon, Danny had transformed for a jump from the
first floor, landing directly in front of Lydia.
His hands were enveloping hers and though Lydia had latched onto Peter again
after her scream, she reached for Danny with her second hand, allowing the
incubus to wrap his fingers around it. They looked at each other in silent
communication and when seconds later the other teenagers and Mrs. McCall
spilled into the living room, nobody dared to interrupt.
After a few minutes, where both Lydia and Danny took a shaky breath, nobody
seemed to question why she practically sat on Peter's lap, the two nodded in
agreement.
Stiles used that opportunity to take a step towards them, asking quietly, "Who
will it be?"
Danny was the first one answering, "Liam. He was fretful for the last couple of
days but I wrote it off as him being nervous about the upcoming report. He
always tenses when he's about to see me. Apparently, this time it's more."
"Lydia?"
"I think …," the girl tried to fight her way to her feet, Peter stood and
supported, mirroring the incubus on her other side. Though his instincts told
him that the creature was dangerous, his priorities were clear. As long as
Lydia reeked of anxiety he wouldn't retreat. He took a step back when
understanding finally crashed down on him the second Lydia finished her
sentence. "I think he's about to get shot."
Nobody questioned that assessment, Stiles and Scott shared a few looks, before
Stiles ordered, "Alright, we are driving to Pittsburg now."
Scott picked up after Stiles announcement, commanding them like a true Alpha,
"Full gear, we don't know what to expect but it won't be pretty. Arm yourself,
humans wear protective gear. Move it people, we are leaving in fifteen."
Stiles held back Peter when he tried to follow Lydia up the stairs. "You are
with me, you need clothes. Your wolf-pelt won't do this time."
                                     ~ * ~
Stiles put on some clothes and pulled a black bag out of his closet before
turning around, looking Peter up and down. "We need to outfit you. How do you
feel about jeans? I might have a pair that will fit you."
Stiles had put on some elegant black jeans, an undershirt and a red hoodie with
a bullet-hole in it. Peter could smell that the package he was throwing onto
the bed now held something made of Kevlar. No wonder this boy was so hard to
kill, he was smart.
"Peter!" Stiles addressed him sharply. "No time to linger, someone is about to
die, so jeans or dress-pants?"
"Jeans if you don't mind, and preferably a shirt without a superhero logo."
Peter stated drily, assessing the information he had gathered during the last
hour. When Stiles offered the clothes, Peter put them on without qualms. A part
of him was pleased that his Alpha was outfitting him personally, but there were
more important matters to discuss. "You seem to be awfully certain that someone
is about to be killed."
Packing another bag, Stiles nodded. "I have no doubt."
"There is only one creature, who can predict death with absolute certainty."
Peter continued, not letting Stiles out of his eyes for any tell-tale-signs
that he was on the right track.
Sighing exasperated, Stiles pushed a bag with a change of clothes and what
smelled like a knife into his hands while stating, "You know, you have this
street-cred that you are a total asshole, but I thought that you would at least
be slightly interested in the teenagers you have bitten."
"I didn't care, once I realized that they didn't provide the strength I
needed," Peter replied, raising his chin challengingly.
"No you didn't, did you?" Stiles snorted, zipping up his own bag after checking
it. "Had you shown the slightest concern, you would have known that Erica now
has an army of girls and boys under her care that work in our clubs or walk the
streets for us. That Boyd with his visible strength and silent compassion
learned to stand up to every dick who hurts them. That Isaac became a confident
and strong young man, willing to put his life on the line and that your first
victim, Scott McCall became a true Alpha.
"You would have known all of that and also that there are very few creatures
that can't be turned into a werewolf. That the smart girl you have bitten woke
to the powers of her family, becoming one of the most powerful Banshees in the
area. Together they would have been strong enough to take on your sister. At
least with the right Alpha to guide them."
Shaking his head, half angry and half embarrassed about the implied scolding in
Stiles' words, Peter concentrated on the new information he had gathered right
now, "You said 'one of the most powerful Banshees'."
Smiling sharply, Stiles nodded, when walking out of the door. "Yes, I did. And
for the foreseeable future, you will pick your brain on the other person who
could predict deaths and how you can reach him or her and how to use him or her
to your advantage."
Laughing humourlessly, Stiles told the werewolf, "I'm not stupid, Peter. I
don't buy your act of the compliant werewolf-pet for a second. But half of the
teenagers in this house were turned by you and no matter how little you want to
admit it, you are bound to them. My wolves wanted you, so here you are. As long
as you don't screw us over, you can plot all you want. But before you act, I
expect a full briefing. Are we clear?"
Surprised by the teenager's easy attitude, Peter looked into Stiles' eyes for a
long moment. The human did not waver, did not look away, so Peter finally gave
in, aware that resistance would get him nowhere. "Yes, Alpha."
                                     ~ * ~
They spilled into their different cars. Isaac chose the company car for Stiles,
since it was inconspicuous and heavily armed. Derek, who didn't dare to assume
that he was allowed to ride with Stiles, nearly sagged with relief when Isaac
ordered, "Get into the back with him. We don't know what to expect ahead of our
arrival."
All throughout the thirty minute ride, Derek tried to muster the courage to
apologize to Stiles. They had nearly reached their destination when he finally
began, "Stiles, about today, I …"
But Stiles interrupted him by raising his hand. The teenager looked from Peter
– who rode shotgun to Derek and back for a brief moment before concentrating on
the werewolf by his side. "You were upset, I saw that on the video feed and
maybe we will have time to address that later. I can't say that I feel bad
about you seeing my office as a sanctuary but still, you are not allowed to
enter without my explicit permission. And now that we have established that, we
can concentrate on what is about to happen."
Hanging his head, Derek mumbled, "Yes, Stiles."
Stiles checked his gun before putting it away. His dad had taught him to take
care of the weapon you depended on and Stiles had always heeded that warning.
"Alright, we will do this fast and as clean as possible. No shifting and no
getting shot. I mean it this time," Stiles implored before Scott started
separating their pack into groups.
"Boyd, Erica you're with Allison. Aiden and Peter are with Lydia. Ethan and I
will stay close to Danny, we all know how the incubus gets when one of his
thralls is threatened. Isaac, Derek, you're with Stiles."
The Alpha was the first one to approach the building once Lydia nodded towards
a door at the side. Despite being locked, it stood no chance against Scott's
strength. The sounds of cars came closer and when a couple of them passed them
by, not even noticing them since they were much too fast, the noise of them
made Lydia shiver. Instantly Aiden stepped closer to protect her, but it was
Peter's arm on her hand, that made her relax again.
When the pack arrived at the first floor, arguing could be heard. They tried to
be as quiet as possible. But when another series of cars drove by, a shot could
be heard and Lydia started to scream again. Pulling out their weapons the
teenagers barged into the room, finding a hysteric Marie with her arms wrapped
around her little brother, who heavily bled from a stomach wound.
The members of the gang lost their will to fight when they saw the blood of a
teenager spreading over the floor. Danny roared angrily and tore into the
shooter, Stiles didn't even bother holding him back. The incubus was always
insanely protective of his thralls and since Liam would most likely not survive
this, Stiles didn't want to keep the demon from executing his revenge.
Everybody but Marie fled when the chance presented itself. She alone stayed
behind, hugging her brother to her chest, near hysteric but still coherent
enough to plea, not bothering to question their presence. "Help him, please,
whatever you do, whatever magic you possess, please, help him! This is not his
fault!"
The world was a dark place, every member of this family knew that and even with
Aiden's support, Peter had troubles holding Lydia who seemed to break at the
sight of the dying boy.
Scott, the most compassionate one of them all stepped up to Maria, slowly
taking Liam into his arms as well, offering comfort and pain relieve although
Stiles could see that it nearly tore him apart. The Alpha's voice was soft and
caring when he whispered, "I'm sorry Marie. But there is nothing we can do."
Looking around, making the decision for him, Stiles stepped behind Scott and
put his hand on his best friend's shoulder. "Most of us can't Scott, but you
can."
Scott looked up at Stiles and shook his head. "It could kill him!"
"Look at him, He's already dying! At least with you he would has a chance!"
Stiles urged, determined to make his best friend understand.
Desperately Maria pleaded again, "Please! If there is anything you can do,
please try!"
Scott looked up at Danny who stood over the entrails of the shooter, as if
waiting for permission. And the demon too took a step forward, not bothering
about the blood on his fangs and claws, kneeling before his Alpha, reaching for
his thrall who was barely breathing any longer, he implored, "Do it, Scott.
Please! If he doesn't survive it, I won't hold it against you. At least we will
know that we have tried everything we can."
Looking at the pale boy on the floor, Scott pulled him fully into his arms and
lifted Liam's small hand to his mouth. His eyes were glowing brighter than the
sun when he shifted and sunk his teeth into the boy's flesh.
                                     ~ * ~
For the longest time nobody said a word. Maria had wrapped her shirt around her
brother's wound, even though it did very little to stop the blood-flow. After
an hour, when the bleeding had finally stopped, Scott and Danny raised Liam
from the floor, carefully carrying him to Stiles' car.
Not bleeding any longer could have two reasons: one there was no blood left, an
absolute possibility since the floor in the factory was now painted red.
Second, the bite had taken. For now nobody could tell. When Marie tried to
follow, Stiles stepped into her way. "You can't come with us. Liam is one of us
now, one way or the other. You have to go upstairs and clean away the blood.
You still have business to attend to and until now you apparently did a very
poor job, if your people dared to shoot your brother."
Turning around he gestured towards Lydia, Aiden and Peter. "I trust those three
implicitly. They will help you set up your business and take care of every
associate you can't get under control yourself."
Though his friend was still pale, Stiles knew that Lydia was up to the task.
Aiden was enough muscle to protect her and Peter's street cred and ruthlessness
would make this a swift assignment.
With tears still streaming down her cheeks, she whispered brokenly, "Why are
you taking him from me? If this saves him, why can't I come with you?"
"Because what he might become will be hard enough to control. He can't afford
divided loyalties. I'm sorry Marie, but as far as you're concerned, your
brother died tonight." Stiles really was not a huge fan of cutting families
ties, but he knew that, if this teenager survived the night, Liam would have a
hard time controlling himself, even in a house full of werewolves. Being
constantly afraid to hurt his own sister would not help. It might be cruel but
it had to be done. Maybe in a month or a year, Liam could return, but not now.
Better for Marie to lower her expectations. That way she would less likely
break under the strain.
                                     ~ * ~
Scott held Liam's hand during the entire ride home. The incubus had pulled his
little thrall into his lap and was constantly whispering assurances into his
ears. Stiles could see the three of them in the rear-view mirror of the car. He
was well aware of Isaac watching his boyfriend, his Alpha, attentively.
"He never wanted to change anyone, you know that." Isaac mumbled half way
through the ride. "Because he thought the bite to be a curse for the longest
time."
Nodding Stiles looked at his enforcer. "I know, but do you think he would have
ever forgiven himself if the thought came to him belatedly that he might have
been able to save this kid?"
That Liam still might die was a thought neither of them wanted to entertain.
                                     ~ * ~
When they returned home it was close to sunrise, and Stiles texted Meredith
that neither he nor Isaac or Danny should be expected in today. Meredith didn't
ask, either knowing what was going on, or not caring beyond the amount of work
she would have to put on hold or redistribute.
The pack all curled up on various soft surfaces in the living room, watching
Liam who lay on the couch, breathing weakly but for now steadily. When Melissa
returned from the night-shift she blanched at the sight of the bloody teenager
on their sofa. Instantly she woke the pack from their doze, ordering them to
get her the first aid kit, clean towels and a pair of scissors because god damn
it, why had they thought that a victim lying in his own blood could ever be a
good idea?
Sheepishly the wolves and humans obeyed and after twenty minutes it turned out
that Melissa's arrival had been a blessing. Once the remnants of the boy's
clothes were cut away, the pack could get a clear look at the wound. And though
it was still open and raw, they could watch the blood flow through unharmed
arteries, indicating that, even if it might take time, Liam would heal.
The bite had taken.
                                     ~ * ~
                                        
Chapter End Notes
     Oh, by the way, I do have a tumblr account: Anchanee
***** Business as usual *****
Chapter Summary
     In this case, we watch Lydia doing business on Stiles' behalf, with
     the help of two very supportive werewolves.
While the pack was hovering around Liam's sickbed (or sick-couch) Lydia had
checked herself, Aiden and Peter into a gorgeous business apartment in
Pittsburg.
At Peter's questioning gaze, Aiden had only shrugged and had started to raid
the cupboards while Lydia claimed the small dinner table and established some
kind of home office with her phone and a notebook. Logging into the family
network she pointed towards the doors by her side. "You can pick a bedroom,
Peter, and maybe sleep a little. We will go out later and round these people
up."
"Doing what?" Peter rested his hands on the back of Lydia's chair, looking over
her shoulder where data-streams were running faster than he could take them in.
He had expected Lydia to tense when crowding her like that. Mostly because
everybody did that, but instead the girl looked up at him and shot him a
wolfish grin – his sister really could take a leaf out of her book – stating
drily, "What we do best."
She simply turned around after that and made a dismissive gesture. "Now get
some sleep or go out and burn of some energy, pups. I will need about two to
three hours before I will need you again."
Eying the bedrooms, Peter whipped around when Aiden slapped his back. "Come on,
there is a park on an island not far from here. Great for running."
Drily Peter stated, "There is no bridge to this island and I'm not the type to
row a boat. How do you plan on getting there?"
But Aiden only shook his head and laughed. "Swimming of course. It's not as if
we will need clothes on the other side."
When Peter shot him a dry look, Aiden laughed. "What? Are you a cat or a wolf?
Come on, it will be fun. And afterwards we will buy the love of my life some
breakfast."
Crowding into the personal space of his girl, Aiden buried his nose deep in
Lydia's neck and rumbled lowly when the girl trailed her fingers through his
hair and pulled him down for a passionate kiss. He rumbled pleasantly when
Lydia nipped his bottom lip before pulling away. "You do want me to bring you
breakfast?"
"Yes, that would be great. Hard to intimidate someone with a growling stomach."
The girl smiled, eyes already fixed on the screen again.
On their way out, Aiden mentioned, "I made you tea, it should be ready in about
two minutes."
                                     ~ * ~
They jogged towards the harbour, running along the water's edge to find a place
to strip and dive in. Not bothering with the beautiful sunrise, Peter asked
provokingly, "How long since you became a pet for this family?"
Aware of where this was going, Aiden had long since learned about the werewolf
and his demeanour, because Peter had been important for half the teenagers in
the Stilinski household for as long as he had been with them, the teenager
replied, "Longer than you, and I did not even get a nice collar." He smiled at
the sub vocal growl, unconcerned, and shedding his clothes.
They shifted on their way to the island, revelling in stretching muscles they
used far too little. Peter had to admit that Aiden had been right. The island
was pleasant, more a playground than a wilderness, but still nice enough to
blow off some steam. When they spotted a fat, little rabbit, instincts took
over and within moments they were chasing the little bunny through the bushes.
Taking the lead by shoving Peter sideways into a small stream, Aiden went for
the kill and was eagerly wiggling his tail, dashing off after the small mammal.
The other werewolf needed very little time to catch up with Aiden, but still he
respected the kill and stayed away when the wolf started to tear into the
rabbit. Peter's stomach started to grumble when he smelled the fresh, warm
blood but still he didn't approach. The chase had been fun, even when the
outcome was frustrating. But it had given him a chance to get his instincts
under control again. It would do him no good to antagonize Aiden, who had been
longer in this pack, by contesting his kill.
Peter looked up when he heard a low whine and Aiden was shoving the rabbit into
his direction. The little animal was missing a hind-leg and the belly was torn
apart, but there was still enough of it left for a decent bite. Peter looked up
at the other wolf, tilting his head, but the teen only shoved the torn bunny
again, returning to the hind-leg he had bitten off before, tearing off strips
of flesh while watching the other werewolf.
After taking a cautious bite, Peter realized that this was not some kind of
trap or power play but the other wolf honestly wanting to share his prey. He
wondered what made this boy act that way because he knew that, were positions
were reversed, he would have kept everything to himself. In the animal kingdom
there was no compassion. In this pack however, there was.
When there was nothing left but bones, they returned to the shore, drinking
their fill before returning to the main land. Though they had shaken out their
pelts, they were slightly damp after shifting when they put on their clothes
again. Peter was surprised when Aiden entered a diner not far from the
apartment, but the teenager only explained, "Breakfast for Lyds. You don't want
her hungry and grumpy when working. Believe me."
"You sound like you're afraid of your own girlfriend." Peter teased. He was
aware how very scary female wolves could be. But Lydia was no wolf. She was a
banshee and usually very tame in her interactions.
Ordering an herbal tea and an omelette with sprouts and goat cheese, Aiden
turned around, looking at Peter. They left the diner before the boy answered.
"Peter, allow me one piece of advice: don't underestimate this girl. Lydia is
Stiles' right hand. There is nothing about his organization she doesn't know.
He trusts her to make decisions in his absence without consulting him. Do you
really think that she has earned that trust by wearing short skirts and
flashing easy smiles?"
When they returned to the apartment, Lydia was emerging from one bedroom,
wearing a short, black skirt, a starched, white blouse and a shimmering black
vest over it. She wore heels that made both men wince to even look at them, but
she was all easy smile and confidence when she kissed Aiden's cheek to thank
him for breakfast and shooed the two of them into the shower to clean up.
When Peter emerged from the bathroom he found a black suit with a white dress-
shirt laid out for him, complete with underwear and shoes. He noticed that they
fit him decently as he was putting them on. It was not perfect but seemed to be
his size. He had to admire Lydia's taste as he inspected himself in the mirror.
Leaving the bedroom, he found the couple arguing in the living-room where Lydia
was currently stashing away her laptop. "I don't care, Aiden. We are three
people, that's enough protection!"
"All I am saying, Lyds, is that it would do you good to keep a weapon on you.
It's not as if our guns are so heavy that they will drag your handbag to the
floor. Not with the laptop in it anyway!" the teenager argued, trying to reach
for his girlfriend's shoulder.
Exasperated, Lydia put the bag on the floor and put her hands on her hips,
looking up at the wolf. "Neither have I, nor will I ever wear a weapon when we
are working. That's what you are here for, you and Peter. The three-person-
policy is there for a reason as you are very well aware of, Aiden. I won't
barge in anywhere wielding a gun. That's not my style!"
"And your style is what? Getting shot? How is that any better?" Aiden shouted,
throwing up his arms in frustration. Peter could smell the worry coming off of
him. This was not a lover's quarrel but an earnest concern for the young
woman's wellbeing. Their work was dangerous, everybody knew that and the girl's
rejection of a weapon made no sense to Peter. At least not until Lydia stepped
up to Aiden and put her hands on his cheeks to make him look at her.
In an intense voice she reminded the boy, "No, Aiden. My style is trusting the
wolves who are here for my protection. Between you and Peter, who could ever
come close enough to harm me?"
Oh my god, this girl was good. Displaying utter faith in the people she was
working with, putting her own life on the line to proof it. When they left the
apartment Peter asked under his breath, "A banshee predicts death. What about
their own?"
The tiny smile that dragged up Lydia's lips was nearly unnoticeable, as was her
soft answer, "Very good, Peter."
                                     ~ * ~
For the next few hours they walked through town and whenever Lydia pointed at
someone, Aiden, Peter or both told that person in no uncertain terms, that he
was expected at the clan's warehouse around noon. It was a boring and tedious
job and Peter got more and more restless. He had dealt with petty girls and
guys on the streets before and more and more Aiden stayed behind, letting him
do all the work.
The enforcer of the Hale-pack was cold, ruthless and unemotional. He had done
this a million times and he was bored out of his mind. The rules with these
kids were the same they had been with Talia: no wolfing out, no using powers,
just intimidating the people to do what he wanted. He had done that for more
than five years and though had he felt compassion at the beginning, it had long
since been burned away by the monotony of the work and the stupidity of human
nature. He was feared in their own territory and here people would learn very
fast to fear him as well.
He was surprised that neither Aiden nor Lydia leashed him back in, the more
brutal he became, shoving people against the wall, proving his point. So he
sank back into the mind-set he had occupied ever since the fire working more or
less on auto-pilot. When they made their way back to the part to the warehouse.
Peter was surprised by the emotions flaring up when Lydia smiled at him and
complimented, "Very good, Peter. Soon your bad-ass reputation will spread into
our own territory as well."
The clap on the shoulder by Aiden was unexpected and Peter nearly growled at
the boy, but realized that this was not some sort of harsh reminder who was in
charge, but a gesture of pride from a pack-mate. Still the werewolf had the
urge to snarl, to push the person away who dared to belittle him with petty
compliments. But he didn't because from the smell of it, both Aiden and Lydia
were honestly proud of the work he had just done for them. And wasn't that a
confusing feeling, to be proud of your work instead of merely doing it and
feeling nothing?
Talia had never bothered. She had told him to get a job done and he had obeyed.
He had given his reports with more sarcasm than necessary lacing though them
and she had accepted them either with a nod or a berating for a subjective
failure. She had never given a compliment, never offered encouragement. He was
her brother, she trusted him to obey since he had chosen to remain in her pack,
even after gaining his Alpha-status.
These kids were … different, and when they chose a small restaurant for lunch,
Peter was lost in his own head, analysing the change in his social standing. It
was not much, not really. Lydia had all but said a few words to him. But the
way she looked at him, the way she touched him, it suggested confidence, not in
herself but in Peter and his abilities. Aiden acted very much the same, hell
the wolf even left him behind with his girlfriend, picking up the meals for
them.
Peter pondered flirting with Lydia, just like he had done it with every pretty
man and woman in his own pack. But the first attempt somehow felt wrong to him,
not the easy game he had played to rile up his own family. Not only because
Lydia had simply laughed it off and shared the compliment she had received with
her boyfriend, who had simply agreed, but because the idea of riling these
teenagers up was … simply not right.
                                     ~ * ~
The gathering at the warehouse put a strain on both werewolves' nerves. They
were becoming restless when Lydia explained the change in leadership to the
people of this clan. She even listened patiently to their complaints for a few
minutes.
Aiden honestly hated this part of negotiations whenever they claimed a new
territory or business. He had gone through this twice and two times Lydia had
been able to talk some sense into the people who were as of then under new
management. She had made them accept Stiles as the new owner of the territory
in question, simply by pointing out the advantages the young boy offered over
their old leader.
The young wolf wanted to pace, wanted to work off the energy that was building
up with every loud word that was thrown in Lydia's direction. When some jerk
actually approached her, he was before her in a flash, as was Peter he noticed
with satisfaction. Though Lyds had told him repeating that the new wolf was on
their side, after everything that had happened to him, Aiden was mistrustful
towards werewolves who abandoned their packs. Especially because of his
brother's and his own history. They had killed their pack after all to gain
their Alpha powers.
Peter had tried to test him, had pushed during their work and had provoked him
by hitting on his girl. But Aiden had been aware that it was just a game. He
was settled enough in the relationship with his banshee that he didn't see the
other wolf as a threat. Lydia might leave him one day for some smart and
gorgeous genius, who offered more than strong arms and uttermost devotion.
Stiles for example was exactly her type. Yet she had never even entertained the
thought of switching Aiden for their human Alpha. So if the greatest possible
threat in their family was no threat at all, Aiden had no reason to be afraid
of a new wolf with a big mouth and words dripping with honey. His girl was too
smart to fall for that.
However, said new wolf was actually proving his loyalty by reacting to a threat
without hesitation. So slowly Aiden relaxed around him, even allowing Peter to
pull him back a little when his claws threatened to break the skin of the man
who had threateningly stepped up to Lydia. Aiden didn't even want to imagine
what Stiles would do to him, if he brought back Lydia in less than stellar
condition.
                                     ~ * ~
After half an hour of useless discussions, where Lydia had allowed these people
to rant and rave, she sighed deeply and stated, "You know what, I have really
hoping you would see reason. But apparently, the concept is too hard for you."
She was turning to leave, when Marie stepped into her way, panic lighting up
her eyes. "I'm sorry, please, don't go. Just … I need more time. I can convince
them, I know it. Please … please don't go away!" The desperation in the last
whispered words was palpable and the strawberry-blonde genius was well aware
that Marie couldn't care less about these people, all she wanted was a chance
to see her brother again, and Liam had been taken away by Stiles. Without a
connection to the Stilinski family, she would lose all ties to her brother as
well.
Still, Lydia shook her head, "They don't listen to reason and thirty minutes is
my limit." Looking at Aiden and Peter, she stated, not even bothering to raise
her voice, because she knew that the werewolves would hear her even over the
loud arguing of these people, "I'll go and fetch coffee. You want some?"
"Yea, sure." Aiden nodded, taking off his jacket and opening his dress-shirt.
"Coffee?" Peter asked confused, but when Aiden nodded encouragingly, he agreed
as well. "Yes, please."
Once the girl was on her way towards the exit, he looked at the other wolf for
directions. None of this made sense to him, as little as Aiden taking off his
jacket and shirt, motioning for him to do the same. At the confused look of
Peter, he explained, "They don't listen to her talking reason. So we have to
convince them."
Turning around at the door one last time, Lydia addressed the wolves. Her smile
was sinister when she called upon them, "Oh, and boys?" When they turned around
she ordered, "No claws." before leaving the building.
Only blunt injuries. Peter turned around, shedding his jacket and shirt,
smiling at Aiden menacingly. Oh yes. This was going to be fun.
                                     ~ * ~
When Lydia returned with coffee and a package of wet-wipes fifteen minutes
later, half the members of the gang lay groaning on the floor. The other half
stood next to the walls, appearing as if they wanted to fuse with them. They
were pale and none of them were uninjured. Still, there was very little blood
to be seen and most injuries appeared to be below the neckline. She stepped
over an unconscious guy who nearly blocked the doorway, opening the wipes and
throwing them into the general direction of the wolves. Both Aiden and Peter
started to clean off the few drops of blood that speckled their bodies and wipe
away the sweat they had worked up before reaching for their clothes.
Once clean they bounded around her like over-eager puppies, drawn by the
overpriced, heavenly smelling coffee. Aiden reached for one of the cups with
the black coffee, kissing her cheek and went to enjoy the hot beverage. When
Peter tried to reach for the second one, Lydia covered his hand, smiling up at
him, offering her cheek. "First you pay."
She laughed and rubbed her skin where Peter had first nuzzled her cheek and
then licked it, before stealing away his coffee. Lydia offered the fourth cup
to a shivering Maria who had stayed out of the way, when Aiden and Peter had
beaten up the other members of the gang. The girl's soft hand on her shoulder
did very little to ease her, but Lydia didn't seem to care. Sipping her coffee,
she stepped into the middle of these people.
"You know, we can do this again, and again, and again, as often as you need to
understand that I am not trying to convince you, but simply telling you how it
will be from now on." Taking another sip, she licked her red lips and brushed
her hair over her shoulder, looking around. "So the choice really is yours. I
can go and get some sandwiches, giving my associates the chance to talk to you
again. Or you can stand up and listen to me, because I am not the kind of girl
who likes to repeat herself."
For a moment, several men looked at Aiden and Peter who still stood with open
dress-shirts next to the table, calmly drinking their hot beverages. Then they
quietly got to their feet, steadying those who had been beaten up worst. Lydia
gave them time, allowed them to fight their way up, gathering in the middle of
the ware-house once again. They all looked at her with honest to god fear in
their eyes, something Lydia noticed with grim satisfaction. People were stupid
and she didn't like them seeing beat up. But if they proved their stupidity for
an extended period of time, she lost her inhibitions and allowed whatever wolf
was with her free reign.
When the people were standing, supporting each other for the most part, she
gestured for Marie to come to her. Putting her hand on the young woman's
shoulder, she started again, "Alright, let's try this one more time."
                                     ~ * ~
***** Changes *****
Chapter Summary
     Derek discovers something about his past. Well, his and Stiles,
     actually. No, his and Stiles and Scott's and Lydia's and Erica's and
     Boyd's and Danny's and Isaac's to be exact.
Chapter Notes
     Alright, some of you might have noticed that my posting became less
     and less regular and I stopped giving this story the attention it
     deserves. Though I slightly regret that, I can't apologize for it,
     since in comparison to what had been going on with my life,
     fanfiction became unimportant. Though I participated in the NaNoWriMo
     (and I am close to winning) I only wrote with half of my heart and
     didn't give much thought to editing. I know you all had to face the
     consequences of it but to be honest: I really didn't care.
     The truth - and really the only thing that matters in my life at the
     moment - is that my dad had died on the 7th of November this year
     after having suffered from lung cancer for the last five months. His
     funeral is on Thursday the 27th of November and I ... well, I don't
     really know how to feel at the moment. I am crying. And I try to
     support my mum and try to be a good mother for my little boy who has
     a hard time coming to terms with his grandfather not being around any
     longer.
     You don't have to feel sorry for me because honestly I am glad that
     my dad doesn't suffer any more. It could have only gotten worse after
     the fifth chem-therapy and I am glad he died with as little pain as
     he did. Still, everything feels off at the moment and though I want
     to post this story because somehow it still matters, I can't give it
     all the attention it needs and for that I am sorry. I know I can
     write better, just not at the moment.
     Still, I wish for all of you to have a great day and a great week and
     a great Christmas time and if you would grant me one wish: If you
     have the people that matter to you the most around you, tell them
     that you love them, at least once in a while. Believe me, it feels
     good to know that they know how much they mean to you.
     Hugs and Kisses
     Daniela
While Lydia, Aiden and Peter got the new Pittsburg branch under control, the
rest of the pack hovered by Liam's side taking turns guarding the new wolf.
Scott and Danny had to be peeled away from him with a crowbar whenever Stiles
needed them at the office or out in the streets.
Derek could smell the concern saturating the house and tried to make up for his
Alpha's absence in the streets by accompanying Ethan most days. Luckily most
dealers who worked for them were low maintenance. The werewolves patrolled the
streets, talked to the dealers, the vendors and generally made sure that
everything was alright.
By now, Derek was able to realize how different Stiles' style was from his
mother's. Talia ruled by fear. People were deadly scared of her and betrayal
and fraud were at a minimum. But Stiles … the members of the Stilinski family
were well respected. People spoke their minds, one vendor even dared to ask to
delay his payment, because he wanted to expand his shop, something that had to
be agreed upon by Stiles. But after a brief call to the head of the family,
Ethan and the vendor settled on reducing his payments by half until the
renovations were complete and afterwards it would be increased by fifteen
percent because a larger shop would make for a higher income.
At the end of the week, Derek even got to know one of the few fences who worked
for the Stilinski family. That turned out to be a quite unpleasant encounter
for the person in question. Apparently, Stiles tolerated the dealing with
stolen goods as long as he got his fair share. But when Derek smelled monkshood
and started to investigate, Ethan made it very clear very violently that the
head of their family didn't like his people trading with goods suitable to harm
werewolves. The fence ended with a cracked rib and a black eye, before he
handed over all the monkshood and the wolfsbane-bullets he had kept hidden.
This would need further investigation because if a vendor sold these items
someone had to have sold them to him in the first place. Derek was reasonably
sure that that person was not Chris Argent, because from what he gathered, the
hunter was in allegiance with the Stilinski-clan and his loyalty was
unquestioned. Still, when he asked Ethan about it, the teenager made a non-
committal noise, derailing from the subject by claiming that he had to talk to
Stiles about it.
                                     ~ * ~
When they returned to the house that afternoon, the living room was back to its
original state, no longer resembling a hospital room. After a shower, Derek put
on his favourite jeans and a black shirt, entering the back-yard to investigate
where the laughter and fighting noises came from. Ethan was already sitting at
the bottom of the steps, offering his beer, while watching as Danny and Scott
gave Liam his first lesson in self-defence.
After taking a sip, Derek leaned against the railing, watching the two
werewolves fighting the incubus. Danny truly was a sight to behold and the
werewolf could understand why his boyfriend sat there, enjoying the show.
Wearing nothing but long, black trousers, Danny's body was glistering with
sweat. He displayed the grace and agility of a giant cat, taunting Liam to hit
him, but twisting away at the very last moment, letting the wolf stumble
because he was constantly misjudging his momentum.
Danny oozed desirability, even when fighting, and Derek felt himself harden in
his trousers. Though he knew that he should pull back, return to the house, he
was not able to move. A shiver ran through him, when he felt a soft breath at
his ear, whispering, "Danny's a sight to behold, isn't he?"
Stiles, the worst person to catch him in such a state, was standing right
behind him. Close enough to hear Derek's elevated breathing, close enough to
provide a much better target for the werewolf's desires. A target Derek would
have chosen in the first place, had Stiles not made clear that he would not
touch Derek until it was absolutely necessary. But a small part of the
werewolf's brain said 'screw that and take him!' despite knowing that this was
a recipe for disaster.
Gathering all of his courage, Derek turned around, aware of how close Stiles
still was to him, whispering hoarsely, "He's not the only one," before leaning
in, brushing the faintest kiss over Stiles' lips. And Stiles returned the
gesture, chasing Derek's lips before the wolf could pull back.
The teenager leaned in, enjoying the feeling of skin on skin before he reached
for the werewolf's neck, pulling him back by it like an unruly puppy. "Sorry,
this … this is a mistake, Derek. You're worked up from Danny's pheromones. No
matter how little I like it, this is not what you want." And with that, Stiles
stepped back and practically fled into the house.
Feeling like he had been hit by a cold shower, Derek remained at the porch,
looking after Stiles, back to Danny and then returned his gaze to the door
Stiles had vanished through.
"He won't do it again, you know?" Ethan spoke up, clearly aware of Derek's
confusion.
"What?" Derek croaked, before taking a deep breath, his voice now steadier when
he clarified his question. "He won't do what again?"
"Taking advantage of you like that," Ethan shrugged, looking at his boyfriend,
before returning his eyes to Derek. "He doesn't know you want him. We never
told him, because we think that this is something he has to hear from you and
no one else. It doesn't affect your work, so we thought we should stay out of
it."
"Who's we?"
"The pack."
"The entire pack?" Derek rasped, terrified of the idea that every last member
of this house knew about his infatuation with Stiles.
Replaying the last few moments in his mind, trying to decipher how much of a
fool he had made of himself, one sentence sprung out to him. "What did he mean
with 'No matter how little he likes it'? What does he not like?"
Grinning, Ethan turned away again and for a moment Derek was sure that the boy
wouldn't answer. But then the teenager admitted in a low voice. "It's not my
place to say, as fun as it is talking about your feelings to the object of your
affection. Let's just say Stiles knew a lot about you, even before we suspected
that you would be offered as payment."
"A lot about me? What did he know?" Derek wondered, really, none of this made
any sense. He had not even realized that Scott had left Liam behind to deal
with the incubus alone until the soft voice of his Alpha could be heard behind
him.
Scott was wiping away sweat from his face, smiling up at Derek with an
undecipherable expression, revealing slow, nearly hesitant, "The number on your
lacrosse uniform …
"What you preferred for lunch and where you liked to eat it …
"That you had history every Thursday afternoon in the classroom right across
the hall from the chemistry lab."
"But that …" Derek stammered. These were things from high school, small,
insignificant things Stiles should have no knowledge of. The boy was younger
than him, if they had been in school together it could not be more than one
season with Stiles starting and Derek in his final year.
"Don't ask questions, Derek," Scott told him. "At least, don't ask us questions
Stiles holds the answers to. And if you really want answers, go after him,
because I can tell you one thing: Stiles will never come to you. You were
brought here as a substitute for payment, and despite the fact that you stayed,
you have still been forced in the first place. Stiles would never want to put
any pressure on you. Not with this, never with something like this."
"So you think that he …," the older wolf started again, but his voice drifted
off, when he realized that he had not the slightest clue of how to finish this
question.
But his Alpha stepped up to him with a smile, placing a hand on Derek's
shoulder, squeezing it encouragingly. "No, Derek, I don't think, I know! But
what you will do with that knowledge, is entirely up to you."
                                     ~ * ~
Stiles had just finished a very, very cold shower and now stood before his
wardrobe, deciding on what to wear for the rest of the day; preferably
something wide and non-restricting. Danny's mood was always affecting him, more
when he was close. It happened with every one of them. But since he was the
demon's master and had a direct line to the incubus, he felt the joy and
pleasure the strongest. The fact that Derek had stood there, in tight jeans and
a shirt that could as well be painted on, had done nothing to ease his desire.
So he had given in, had allowed Derek to kiss him, had even chased after the
wolf he had fallen for five years ago, without any regard for the consequences.
But this was a bad idea. Derek had been in no position to make a choice so
Stiles had caught himself in the very last moment, pulling away. Luckily he had
managed to leave without violating the werewolf's trust. The mere memory of
what had just happened was enough to make little Stiles all eager again, and
the teenager cursed his overactive libido. Not even the cold droplets of water
still running over his back did anything to ease his desire.
                                     ~ * ~
Oh my god, Stiles had just taken a shower and had not even had the time to
dress. Derek was hovering at the door, looking at the mole-dotted skin of
Stiles back, following the droplets of water with his eyes, wishing he could
trace them with his tongue until they were disappearing under the towel around
Stiles' waist. Maybe even further …
But he couldn't do this. Couldn't put himself on the line if he was not
absolutely sure that Stiles wanted him back, wanted him and not only for
fooling around with, but really him, just because he was Derek and not someone
he could take advantage of. Scott and Ethan thought it possible, had even
encouraged him, and yet there was a but …
Gathering all of his courage he stepped up to Stiles, crowded him against the
wardrobe so that the teenager had to steady himself against the walls of the
furniture. So close, Stiles' scent was hitting Derek fully, making his wolf
eager to taste and claim, but he had to be sure. He didn't trust his own voice
and his words sounded raspy and out of breath when he asked, "What was the
number on my lacrosse shirt?"
"Eleven," Stiles, too, sounded slightly out of breath, though he hid it much
better than the wolf.
"What class did I have on Thursday afternoon in my senior year?"
"History, the room was across from the …"
"… the chemistry lab." They finished the sentence in unison. Lowering his head,
closing the last distance between them, Derek dared to lick a stripe of wet
skin on Stiles' shoulder. Encouraged by the quiet groan, and the view of
Stiles' fingers turning white because of how hard he was clutching the
wardrobe, the werewolf decided on one last question.
The chances that Stiles knew the answer, were slim to none. The number on his
shirt and history class were not that hard to figure out. But this last
question was personal, it would mean that the boy really had paid attention and
more importantly had considered the information, considered Derek important
enough to memorize such a fact. Slowly rubbing his nose over Stiles neck, the
werewolf whispered, "Where was my locker?"
"Facing," Stiles swallowed heavily, tiling his head to give Derek better access
before continuing, "Facing the library, right side of the door and third one
down. You liked to spend your free periods in there."
Satisfied, Derek grumbled as he wrapped his arms around the boy, pulling him
flushed against his body, not caring that his shirt was getting wet. For a few
moment Stiles allowed that, even pushed back to get more contact, but all of a
sudden a thought seemed to cross his mind and he pushed back so strongly that
Derek had to step back, giving Stiles room to wiggle out of his embrace in the
process.
When the teenager turned around, the werewolf could barely make out the rings
of warm brown around black irises. Still, when he reached for Stiles again, the
boy but both hands on the werewolf's chest, pushing him back. Panting heavily,
shivering all over, Stiles shook his head, "Derek, don't."
"Why?" the werewolf demanded to know, trying to get close again. "You want me,
I can see it, I can smell it, and it's not a recent thing. You wanted me all
along!"
"Yes," Stiles admitted, drawn to the wolf but forcefully holding himself back.
The teenager shook his head as if that would clear it, but Derek's broad chest
under his hands did very little to help him cooling down. "Yes, Derek, I want
you. But I'm a pimp, a dealer and a murderer. But I certainly am no rapist. I
will never, ever take advantage of you and allowing this to continue right now
would mean exactly that.
"You are worked up from Danny's pheromones. I know it because I feel them too,
probably even more than you because I am his master. I can’t say I don't want
you because God knows I do. But I can't do this. Not when your head isn’t
clear. Think about this. Turn around, leave and really think about this. Is
this what you truly want, or is this your body egging you on because of the
magic of an incubus?"
"I want you!" Derek assured Stiles. "Wanted you from the moment we met. Even
with that stupid collar. My wolf was convinced that you were a good person
right from the start. This is really me!"
Pain so strong that it made Derek's breath catch, clouded Stiles' features
before the boy stepped back, shaking his head. "Leave, Derek. I can't do this.
Not tonight."
"Stiles, I …"
"LEAVE!"
Shocked and hurt by the shouted command, Derek whipped around and fled from the
room, taking two stairs at one, leaving the house.
                                     ~ * ~
After a few minutes, Scott knocked on the door of Stiles' bedroom, and found
his best friend sitting on the bed, still only clad in a towel, staring
unseeing at his own hands. Closing the door, Scott claimed a spot on the bed
next to Stiles, offering his silent support before asking. "What happened?"
"Derek came on to me." Stiles voice sounded dead, like all emotion had been
washed out of it.
Confused Scott asked, "But isn't that a good thing? You want him, wanted him
since high school and this way you don't even have to worry about taking
advantage."
Snorting without humour, Stiles explained, "Oh yes, my thoughts exactly. When I
voiced my concerns he told me that he had always wanted me, even without
Danny's magic. Ever since the day we first met. Even with me putting the collar
around his neck. His 'wolf' was drawn to me, knowing that I was a good person.
Apparently the wolf didn't care about being chained down by me."
"Crap."
"He doesn't even remember," Stiles whispered, voice thick with tears now. "I
will always be the Don, the leader of this family, the person who decides his
fate. How can I sleep with him, if that's all he sees? How can this ever be me
NOT taking advantage?"
"It was our first year in high school. We were young, Stiles. We have changed."
Scott reminded his best friend softly, putting an arm around Stiles shoulder,
pulling him close.
"I know," the other teenager whispered, leaning into the comforting embrace. "I
know."
                                     ~ * ~
Sitting frozen where he had hidden in the bushes under Stiles' window for the
last few minutes, Derek slowly straightened. He had dashed out the front door,
but his wolf's compulsion to return had been too strong for him to overcome.
And because he had not felt strong enough to face Stiles during dinner, he had
circled around the house, and hid under Stiles window like some pathetic
romance-novel character.
But his cowardice had been a blessing, since he had discovered more than he
could have ever hoped for and in the fraction of a second he made a decision.
Going inside once again, hoping that Scott and Stiles would stay upstairs for a
little while longer, he grabbed his jacket and the keys to Laura's Camaro. He
needed very little time to reach the Beacon Hills High School, and since it
might be late but not too late, he was able to convince the janitor – after a
generous donation – to allow him to slip into the library. Derek only needed a
few minutes to find the yearbook of his senior year and when the janitor asked
him if he wanted a copy for himself, Derek offered a fifty for the man's
troubles.
He left the school a little while later, with a slightly damp and mouldy
smelling book under his arm. Buying a bottle of booze, like he and his friends
would have done in his senior year, he sat on one of the benches that lined the
lacrosse field, studying the yearbook until he reached the section of the first
years. He didn't need long to spot the pictures of Scott McCall and Stiles
Stilinski, both displaying goofy grins that were hidden behind braces in
Stiles' case. He found Erica Reyes' picture, showing a pale girl with unruly
hair and Vernon Boyd's that depicted the stoic expression Boyd was so famous
for nowadays. He even found the picture of a scared looking, curly haired boy
with the name of Isaac Lahey written underneath.
They were all there, even the genius Lydia Martin and the handsome Danny
Mahealani, who looked most like their adult selves. There was more, there had
to be more if Scott was hinting that he and Stiles had met in high school.
Honestly Derek's memories of his senior year were fuzzy because they were
overshadowed by Kate's betrayal and the fire. But even without that, Stiles and
he had to have been part of entirely different crowds. He had been a lacrosse
player, captain of the team and they had been first years. Those to social
groups did not mix, except for occasional teasing.
All of a sudden a scene came to the forefront of Derek's mind. True the two
groups had not mixed but still they had interacted, mostly by the lacrosse
players tormenting the first years. 'It built character,' was the general
agreement and most of them didn't even take it hard, but there had been one
scene where his wolf had felt the need to intervene …
                                     ~ * ~
***** Memories *****
Chapter Summary
     It won't be easy, but it will be worth it.
Chapter Notes
     Yesterday was my father's funeral and I am still waiting for the
     relieve to come. Luckily my colleagues at work gave me the chance to
     take the day off so I will elope a little for some alone-time.
     Hopefully my heart will catch up with my head and by my return on
     Sunday I will be back to self again.
     Thank you all so very much for your good wishes and encouragements.
     Though we don't know each other and share but one interest, it meant
     the world to me. So once again: thank you very much.
     And now, have fun with a Derek remembering who Stiles was when they
     first met. Oh, and smuuuuuuuuuut ;).
Stiles had barely been able to work up any appetite and though the pack had
thrown him worried looks, nobody had dared to say anything. When Melissa
returned from work, she kissed his forehead, and felt that though his body-
temperature was slightly elevated, it was not dangerous. Therefore the pack had
not joined him when Stiles had picked up a few DVDs, and retreated to the
cinema in the cellar.
Instinctively, the wolves had sensed that their human Alpha wanted to be alone,
Scott had not even needed to hold them back.
Stiles had put in 'Who framed Roger Rabbit', trying to conjure the pleasant
memories of how he had watched this movie with Scott for the first time after
their first big test in high school.
He was currently starting 'Space Jam', trying to recall how he and his best
friend had imagined big sports careers where they would get all the girls and
all the money for excelling in a game. The intro had not even finished when the
door to the gym was opened. Stiles was determined to shoo away whoever was
interrupting, wanting to enjoy his walk down memory lane alone. He froze when
he saw Derek.
"You … you had been wearing a red hoodie, like the one you own now." Derek
started in a whisper, barely loud enough for Stiles to hear. "And you were
carrying a tray with curly fries and chocolate pudding. One of my team-mates
tripped you and you fell right into that pudding, ending with a huge spot of
chocolate on your chest. The curly fries scattered all over the floor, landing
under all the tables surrounding you. The smell of chocolate never washed out
of that particular piece of clothing."
Turning around, ignoring the movie he had just started, Stiles croaked out,
"You helped me up, defended Scott and me against your own team. You said that
nobody should ever touch me … touch us again. You repeated yourself, I always
remembered that."
Daring to come closer, now that Stiles showed no inclination to throwing him
out, Derek reached for the boy. "I might not have remembered before, but what I
said still stands, the first time we met my wolf was determined that you were a
good person, worth fighting for, even if it was against my own team."
Sinking to his knees before the boy, who still sat at the edge of the giant
cushion so that they were face to face, Derek laced their fingers, assuring the
teenager, "I might have not have recalled our first encounter before, but I do
now, and I have not come across Danny on my way down here. This is really me,
wanting you, wanting to be with you. Is that good enough?"
It was hard, so very hard for Derek to put his heart on the line again. To
allow another person that much power that could crush, no, destroy him. But he
had to try, because if he didn't, he would always ask himself what could have
been.
Tenderly, Stiles caressed Derek's face, looking into the werewolf's eyes, until
Derek could no longer maintain eye-contact, closing his eyes, leaning into the
long, gentle fingers that touched him. He wanted this, had wanted this for so
long. Someone who looked at him like that. Someone who touched him like that,
like he was not a means to an end, but something precious, something worthy to
be cherished.
Derek was not innocent by any means. He had entertained one-night-stands in New
York. But it had never been real, just a way to blow off steam. He had never
offered his heart, had never allowed himself to get invested, not after the
consequences of his relationship with Kate. But with Stiles it was different,
with Stiles he could allow himself to want, to need! So he clutched the boy's
thighs desperately and when the teenager finally covered his lips with his own,
demanding entrance after a mere moment, he allowed Stiles in to claim his mouth
like it belonged to him.
Pulling himself closer, Derek realized that his mental comparison fitted. His
mouth, his body, his everything belonged to Stiles if the boy only wanted him.
He might be a screw up, but for Stiles he would do better, for his human Alpha
he would try to move the sun, the moon and the stars to prove himself worthy of
Stiles’ attention. He inhaled sharply when Stiles nipped at his earlobe, like
he had done at the club only far more gently and playfully, when he reminded
Derek, "No claws, gorgeous. I'm no wolf, I don't heal like you."
Embarrassed by his inability to control his shifting, a common occurrence
around Stiles, Derek pulled back and put his hands behind his back, one hand
grasping his opposite wrist in a conscious effort not to hurt Stiles. When the
boy pulled back, Derek tried to chase him, but Stiles held him in place,
scrutinising him, from his mussed up hair to his shivering body, to the hands
that were firmly clutched behind Derek's back. The teenager's voice was but a
seductive purr when he whispered, "Is this how you want to do it?"
"I want …," Derek choked out hoarsely until he realized that he really didn't
know what he wanted. There were endless possibilities, but this was not about
him, so he looked up at Stiles with utter devotion, deciding, "Whatever you
want. However you want to do this, I'm up for it."
"Bold move, wolf boy," Stiles snickered, allowing his hands to roam over
Derek's broad torso, touching every last inch of it, savouring the idea of his
hands on Derek's naked skin and how much fun they would have later. "Are you
really sure about that? I could entertain some pretty heavy kinks. Are you sure
you want to give me free reign?"
"I …," Derek closed his eyes, remembering how much fun Kate had had in
dominating him, in belittling him and not only in bed, revelling in the naiveté
of a teenager who had not understood the game she had been playing. He recalled
the pain she liked to inflict on occasion, with her nails and her bites, not
teasing but governing, not pleasant but cruel. He thought about the countless
kinks he had come across with his one night stands. One of them had enjoyed
drawing blood, had been delighted to see how fast Derek could heal, going out
of her way to cut up nearly every part of his body after that. The last one,
where he had stopped going out at all afterwards, had poured hot wax over his
naked body and for a few, brief seconds Derek had felt like being burned alive.
Still, this was Stiles, a human who had done everything in his power to keep
Derek safe. So the werewolf nodded his head, repeating, "Whatever you want. I
trust you."
Stiles' next kiss took his breath away. Had he thought that he had gotten to
know passion with Kate, Stiles was like a hurricane to her rainstorm. The boy
was claiming Derek's mouth, exploring every last inch of it. If felt like
Stiles was dying of thirst and Derek was the last drop of water on the entire
planet. Never before had the werewolf feel so desired.
When Stiles pulled him onto the cushions, Derek followed without thinking and
he actually enjoyed the dangerous glitter in Stiles eyes, when the boy pulled
out his ever-present blade, telling him, "I want to look at all of you, without
any clothes between us."
Stiles started with Derek's shirt, cutting it open right in the middle, careful
to avoid the werewolf's skin, no matter how fast he would heal from a small
nick. When the shirt was off, Derek quickly shed his jeans because he actually
liked them and didn't want them to fall victim to Stiles' blade. He had less
luck with his underwear and sucked in a harsh breath, when he felt the cold
metal caressing his hips while cutting the fabric.
He nearly shouted the house down, biting his bottom lip at the very last
second, when Stiles started to lick a wet strip from the base of his cock right
up to the tip. But the boy did not like that. Nipping at the head of Derek's
erection, he commanded quietly, "Don't do that gorgeous, I want to hear you. I
need to know if you like what I am doing to you. How will I know if I do
everything right, if you don't let me hear you?"
"I … oh god!" Derek arched off the bed when Stiles repeated the movement,
lingering a little longer at the head, suckling on it like it was the most
delicious sweet. The teenager used that movement to his advantage, placing a
pillow under the werewolf's hips, holding him up a little. Fingers ghosting
over his backside made Derek clench his teeth, not only because he had never
allowed anybody to take him like this, but because this soft brush alone made
his wolf howl for more. He actually shouted when he felt the tip of Stiles'
tongue teasing his rim.
"Stiles please, you can't … oh my god … you …." Stammering incoherently, he
realized that Stiles took great pleasure in teasing him before sinking a spit-
slick finger into Derek's body. The air was saturated with the boy's desire and
it was the headiest smell Derek had ever experienced. He wanted more, he wanted
all of it. He wanted to drown in the scent, but for now the best course of
action of increasing Stiles' passion seemed to be just to allow the boy free
reign over his body.
The finger was joined by a tongue and a few minutes later by another digit. He
remembered Kate using toys on him, but it had always been unpleasant, something
he had tolerated on her behalf but never for himself. But this … this was
something else entirely. He wanted more, could not get nearly enough of it.
Stiles was teasing him, stretching him. When Derek showed even a fraction of
discomfort, the boy returned to his cock, teased his nipples, kissed him
passionately, made Derek forget his own name, and after an eternity, the
werewolf was twisting on the soft surface, unable to decide if he wanted more,
less, deeper, shallower, faster or slower.
Stiles' heart-rate was shooting through the roof when the boy pulled back a
bit, resting his forehead on Derek's hip, looking up with glassy eyes that were
dominated by black pupils. His voice sounded absolutely wrecked when he stated,
"I don’t have any condoms on me and I understand if you want me to get one. I
know that you wolves can't get sick or transmit any diseases but still I will
use protection if you prefer that. I will not claim you bare if you don't feel
comfortable with it." Pulling back a little, he insisted, "Tell me what you
want."
"Don't!" Derek was nearly whimpering, reaching for Stiles, desperate for the
boy not to leave him. He wrapped his arms around his human Alpha, overwhelmed
by the mere idea of this boy claiming him, filling him up and marking him with
his seed. "Please, please Stiles, don't leave. I want this, all of you. Don't
put up any barriers."
He had never fucked anybody without a condom. Kate had insisted on the
inconspicuous way of contraception and afterwards, the mere idea of fucking
someone without it had been sickening. Now the thought of Stiles protecting
himself from the skin to skin contact with Derek was more than the werewolf
could suffer.
Sensing Derek's sudden anxiety, Stiles pulled himself up and started to place a
soothing hand on Derek's forehead. "Shhhh, Derek, calm down, it's alright. I
want this, with you. And I will take you in any way you desire. But you have to
talk to me. Is this what you need right now, me taking you without using
protection?"
Looking into the boy's eyes who showed wisdom far beyond his age, Derek could
only nod, whispering frantically, "Yes! Yes, that's what I want."
Kissing him most tenderly, Stiles positioned himself and slowly, excruciatingly
slowly pushed into Derek.
The werewolf's breath hitched with every inch of Stiles that entered his body,
Derek felt filled, cherished, completed in a way he had never known before.
When Stiles was finally seated, he wrapped his legs around the teenager,
determined to never let go.
Stiles gave him ample time to adjust before he felt Derek's legs around his
body loosening their vice-grip and with a playful nip on the werewolf's
shoulder, the human started to move. At first he was slow and tentative,
watching Derek, judging his reaction to the motion. But when the werewolf
groaned in pleasure, baring his neck further, Stiles stopped holding back.
The teenager became faster more powerful and the werewolf revelled in the
strength of his Alpha. True, he could flip them over in a heartbeat, but that
was not what he wanted, he wanted to be covered by Stiles' body, wrapped around
the teenager, his scent, the feeling of his burning skin and the things Stiles
whispered into his ear.
Sweet memories about how much he had thought about Derek, how he had attended
his every game. How he had lain awake at night, touching himself while thinking
of the wolf. All the filthy fantasies a teenager could come up with and how
Derek exceeded his expectations in every last aspect.
It was so much, nearly too much for Derek to take, because it was so very
different from all the other sex he had ever had. Stiles showered him with
compliments where Kate had talked down at him. Stiles reacted to his every
move, chasing those who brought Derek the most pleasure instead of simply
concentrating on his own, like Derek's one-night-stands. And Stiles cherished
his wolf and not because Derek could entertain a painful kink, but because he
revelled in the strength and endurance of Derek's animal side.
How very well Stiles understood pack dynamics became apparent when Derek
approached his peak, barring his neck for the teenager, clutching him, pulling
him closer and closer still. He felt like howling, like his breath was stolen
from him but what finally pushed him over the edge were Stiles teeth sinking
into the junction between his neck and his shoulder, claiming him in a way he
had never allowed before. The teenager's teeth were not breaking his skin but
combined with Stiles' hot seed filling his body it was everything Derek could
have ever dreamed of, of Stiles spilling long and continuously inside of him.
When they finally came down from the afterglow, Stiles did not even feel
bothered that he would be glued to Derek if he did not move in the next few
minutes. Instead he cherished the deep and calming breaths of the wolf who held
him, like he was afraid Stiles would jump up and run off if he relaxed his hold
for a second. Truth was, Stiles didn’t have the slightest intention of moving
from this spot. This was everything he had ever dreamed of and more. And for
the first time in forever he had gained something not because of his money or
his family, but because it had been his all along.
A wolf recognized a potential partner, or so he had been told, and if Derek
remembered him even from high school, he seemed to be suitable after all.
                                     ~ * ~
Around two in the morning, Stiles slid from Derek's chest and was woken by the
uncomfortable feeling of having a part of his skin ripped off. The werewolf
clutched him instinctively, but Stiles twisted out of his arms. The teenager
could see fear flashing in Derek's eyes, before he leaned closer, kissing his
lover gently. "Come on, let's take a shower and go to bed. It's Saturday and we
can sleep in, but my bed will be much more comfortable than this."
Sneaking upstairs, Stiles simply pulled Derek into the shower with him, not
wanting the slightest bit of awkwardness coming up between them. Yet, when he
was shampooing Derek's hair, he felt the tension returning to his wolf. Quietly
he asked, "What is it?"
"Nothing, I was just …," the werewolf started, and only at an encouraging
gesture from Stiles, he managed to continue, "I was just wondering how often
you are doing this with Danny?" He was not jealous, Derek told himself. It
would do him no good to be jealous, because it would only drive Stiles away.
But he couldn't help the gut-wrenching feeling at the mere idea of Stiles
touching another like that.
It seemed like this had been a bad question because Stiles' playful attitude,
he had spiked up Derek's hair after shampooing it, ceased instantly, and the
teenager washed out the shampoo swiftly before turning Derek around so they
were face to face. Even Stiles expression was earnest, managing to make the
werewolf's stomach clench even further.
Slowly the teenager explained, "Derek, listen to me very carefully because you
have to understand and I don't want there to be the slightest misunderstanding
about this. I will not lie to you, not about this, never about something like
this. I will not tell you that I have never entertained a lover because I have.
The girl you have met at the cliffs, the daughter of the Desert Wolf, Malia was
one of them. But I have not been with anybody since you came to us. And when it
comes to Danny: I have never, ever fucked him."
"But he …," Derek stammered, remembering the blowjob that had introduced him to
the incubus.
Proving the surprising ability to know what was on Derek's mind, Stiles shook
his head, "I let him blow me and only if he is starving and Ethan is not
around. I kiss him, like every other member of this family but that's the
extent of the sexual interaction between us."
Shaking his head, Derek recalled the scene in the living room, the day he had
messed up and entered Stiles' office without permission. "But the day he
climbed your lap. You talked about taking him, you and Ethan fucking him from
both sides. You …"
Snickering quietly, Stiles shook his head, "It's called 'dirty talk', gorgeous.
I will introduce you to the concept eventually. Danny gets off on the idea, but
he would never, ever allow me to fuck him, that privilege belongs to Ethan
alone. And I would never allow him to take me. I would lose my hold over the
demon if I showed myself even slightly submissive. I have never allowed anybody
to stake a claim on me, though I am currently thinking about making an
exception for you. But we are not that far into our relationship to think about
that."
"Is that what we have?" Derek asked tentatively. "A relationship?"
Gently brushing a strand of wet hair out of Derek's face, Stiles kissed him
gently before answering. "That will depend entirely on you. I don't want to
make assumptions or give the impression that you don't have a choice. If you
want sex with no strings attached, that's what we will do."
A little hurt, Derek asked, "And that would be enough for you?" Maybe he had
read all of this wrong, maybe Stiles was not as invested into this as Derek had
expected.
The werewolf relaxed a fraction, when the boy reached for his neck, pulling him
closer so that their foreheads touched. Harshly he admitted, "No, that's not
what I want. I want more, everything! I want to glare at every girl or boy who
looks at you. I want to kiss you in public, not caring that this paints a huge
target on your back. I want to have you by my side night and day. But this
affects not only me, so it's not my decision alone. If this is a relationship
you get a say in the matter and you have to be very sure about your decision
because no matter what you decide, it won't be easy for either of us."
Aware that Stiles had thought this through far better than he had, Derek gently
nudged the boy under the spray, returning the courtesy of washing his hair.
When they lay in bed not long after that, Derek wrapped around Stiles from
behind, burying his face in the teenager's neck, drinking in the smell of his
Alpha, of his lover, he realized that no matter how much he tried to
rationalize his thoughts, sex could never be enough.
"I want all of you, and when we see these coyotes again, I want to be the one
to wrap my arms around you and not her, no matter the past you two have
shared."
"It won't be easy." Stiles reminded him.
"I know," Derek whispered, a relationship meant exclusivity, not love. Still,
it was a first step towards what Derek had always wanted. "But it will be worth
it."
                                     ~ * ~
***** Confusing Emotions *****
Chapter Summary
     The morning after. Stiles is not used to need convincing. (Just
     saying)
     Oh, and Peter is an ass-hole ;).
Chapter Notes
     Thanks to my two dedicated betareaders 'Wecantgiggleatacrimescene'
     and 'memprime' this chapter is ready for you.
     I once again wanted to say thank you to all of you who have sent me
     good thoughts and good wishes. I really appreciated that and it
     honestly helped me in this hard time. The funeral was simply
     beautiful. My mother chose all the right songs and wrote a beautiful
     speech. All in all the perfect closure for all of us. Now we are
     looking into the future.
     Love to you all.
     Anchanee
Derek had found peace wrapped around his new lover as long as the moon was high
in the sky. When he woke with the rising sun he remained unmoving, listening to
Stiles' even heartbeat, wondering where they would go from here. Stiles had
agreed to a relationship, being exclusive – with the exception of Danny of
course, Derek could never keep the two of them apart – but did that mean that
the human wanted the pack to know?
Sneaking out of bed, Derek took a thorough shower and decided to put his
restlessness to good use by making breakfast. It was Saturday, so everybody was
sleeping late. But the smell of pancakes and bacon and eggs would surely summon
them out of bed. Yet, Derek could take his time. Starting with cutting up
fruits and preparing everything in advance before starting the cooking he tried
to figure out how Stiles wanted him to react when they were around each other
in public.
After about an hour he couldn't put off cooking any longer, everything was cut
and stirred and he had even set the table. He still hadn't come to a decision
of how to behave, but more time wouldn't change that. He was running circles in
his own head anyway. The bacon was sizzling nicely when Scott and Isaac tumbled
down, zoning in on the meat. Derek threatened them with the spatula, should
they dare to nick some before the others were up. Withholding the meat, he
steered them towards the coffee.
Allison was next, wearing pyjama bottoms and a far too tight shirt, gratefully
accepting the coffee Isaac had just prepared, snuggling into his embrace, while
watching Derek cook. The werewolf's heart ached at that sight. He wanted this,
so very much. But he didn't even know if Stiles wanted to make their
relationship public. There were many practical reasons for him to keep it
secret, Derek's safety not the least of them. Ethan took the spatula out of his
hands when the pancakes started to burn, stirring him towards one of the stools
gesturing for Scott to serve him juice.
Derek watched the twin putting his pancake batter to good use while directing
Danny to supervise the eggs and the bacon. Still not entirely awake, Danny
grinned at Derek, "So did Stiles and you …," But before he could finish the
sentence, he was hit in the ribs by Scott who was standing behind him,
whispering as quietly as possible, "He doesn't smell like him."
Derek ignored the confused look Danny shot him, and he was grateful that the
incubus didn't insist on pursuing that particular topic despite his curiosity.
In silence they put the food on the table together and were briefly discussing
who should fetch Stiles after Erica and Boyed had joined them. Nobody even
looked at Derek, clearly they didn't plan to put that task on him.
The teenager in question solved their problem by bouncing down the stairs when
Scott and Allison were raising their fists for a game of rock-paper-scissors.
Derek's heart rate increased. Embarrassed because he was well aware, that there
was no better way of displaying his distress in a room full of werewolves, he
reached for a slice of orange. But when Stiles approached them, he squeezed the
slice so hard that juice started to drip down his hand.
Stiles, tumbling slightly from the lack of caffeine, reached for Derek's hand
and began licking of the juice seductively, grinning at the werewolf as he sat
down. His easy smile fell when he took in his lover's face. Gazing from Derek
to the others and then back to Derek, Stiles reached for the werewolf again,
tenderly cupping his cheek. "Hey, you look really nervous, gorgeous. Want to
tell me what's wrong? Did anybody say anything?"
Glaring at his friends briefly, who hastened to shake their heads, Stiles
looked back at Derek. Shaking his head as well, the werewolf croaked, "I didn't
know if you wanted them to know … I …"
Confused, Stiles suggested, "We are living in a house full of werewolves,
surely they can already smell it."
When Derek lowered his head ashamed, Stiles looked around. Scott was the one
who explained, "We couldn't smell you on him, because he washed off your
scent."
"I wasn't sure if you wanted …," Derek repeated, ashamed of how he had screwed
up already. Now Stiles thought he was embarrassed of their relationship when
all the wolf wanted was to shout it down from the top of the roof. But how
could he convince this human of his investment into their relationship,
especially after this?
Stiles however, was not used to need 'convincing'. He was used to taking
matters into his own hands and simply claiming what he wanted. So he buried his
fingers in Derek's hair and pulled the young man's head up. For a brief moment,
their eyes met, and when Stiles continued pulling, the werewolf presented his
unprotected neck without hesitation.
"Not smelling like me. We can't have that, can we?" Stiles mumbled, before he
leaned over and licked a strip of skin from the hollow of Derek's throat up to
the side of his neck, where he sunk his teeth briefly into the sensitive skin,
licking over the red spot he had caused before it had time to heal.
Derek groaned at that bland display of ownership. When Stiles let go of his
hair, pulling back, looking at Derek, eyes alight with passion, the wolf
whispered, "You don't want to keep me a secret?"
"Never, gorgeous."
"Oh god," This was more than Derek had expected and still not enough at the
same time. With a low growl, he stood and pulled the teenager with him, lifting
him up while kissing him possessively. Stiles seemed entirely on board with
that, because he immediately wrapped his legs around Derek's hips, trusting the
wolf to hold him aloft.
After a few moments, where the pack laughed and cheered and wolf whistled,
Scott spoke up. "Ahm … guys? The bacon is getting cold."
Stiles needed all of his self-restraint to pull back from his gorgeous
werewolf. He nipped on Derek's lower lip one last time, assuring him quietly.
"I'm proud of you, I would never want to keep you a secret. Alright?"
Derek felt his throat closing up with emotion, so he didn't say anything,
merely nodded. He put Stiles down again, reclaiming his place at the table. The
place at the left side of the Alpha, the place of the partner.
Everybody reached for the food at the same time and it was still a surprise for
Derek that nobody lost an arm or at least a finger during these events. They
all ate in companionable silence, apart from occasional requests for salt, more
bacon or coffee.
When they were all slumping back in their chairs, picking at the leftovers,
Isaac groaned. When everybody looked at him, he asked, "Do we have to tell
Lydia?"
Derek looked at Stiles with confusion when the teenager threw his head back and
laughed out loud. "How many," Stiles started, unaware of his lover's confusion,
"How many of you were stupid enough to bet against Lydia?"
Nearly everybody … no, everybody except Allison and of course Stiles and Derek
raised their hands. Shaking his head, Stiles censured them, "You really should
know better by now. Go on now, pay and make it a generous donation! I know she
had set her heart on a new pair of heels."
At the end of a lot of shuffling, a hundred bucks lay on the table, despite
only six people betting. Stiles gestured for Allison to take the money, and
asked, "Alright, now spill."
Looking at their leader, Scott sighed and admitted, "She said that you would be
together within two weeks into the new year."
"Smart girl," Stiles commented, smiling at Derek.
                                     ~ * ~
It had taken Lydia nearly a week and two more beatings to get this new clan
under control. By now she regretted that Stiles had decided to take over their
territory. It would have been easier if they had just killed them, despite her
not being a huge fan of extensive blood-shed. She still didn't put it past them
to cause further trouble. Planning to send Aiden and Peter here once a week,
she made them pack and drive home. Stiles had kept her up to date on everything
that had happened in Beacon Hills and Allison had sent her a short text during
the weekend that a new pair of shoes was ready for her to pick up. All in all,
Lydia was more than happy to get home again.
It was strange for Peter to feel excited about returning to Beacon Hills. Sure,
Talia had sent him out on assignment in the past. He had fulfilled them and
returned, but he had never felt particularly good or bad about it. The Hale-
pack had just been his family, but he had never felt particularly bound to them
after the fire. Now, returning to the Stilinski house was another matter
entirely. Despite the belief of having chosen the lesser of two evils at the
remote chance of … well not happiness but at least contentment, Peter was truly
looking forward seeing the pups he had bitten.
He would never admit it, but while being with Lydia actually did help a great
deal to fill up a part of the endless void the death of his fiancé had caused,
the mere thought of being surrounded by Isaac and Boyd, by Erica and Scott made
him feel nearly giddy. Well, of course not giddy, because that would be
undignified but …
Catching Aiden's eyes in the rear-view mirror, Peter became aware that he was
giving far too much of his emotions away. Crossing his arms over his chest, he
started to look out of the window, forcing himself to really watch the
landscape they were passing by, despite it being white and bleak barely three
weeks into the New Year. He realized that Aiden and Lydia exchanged a glance,
but neither said anything.
He expected Lydia to speak, but to his surprise it was Aiden who took his
girlfriend's hand, kissed it adoringly and whispered, as if trying to talk only
to her. "I miss them. I'm glad we are going home." Peter mirrored the deep and
relieved sigh Lydia gave, admitting wordlessly that he felt the same.
                                     ~ * ~
When they let themselves into the house around seven in the evening, they found
Derek standing in the kitchen, juggling several bottles. Not hearing anybody,
Lydia and Aiden took three each, urging for Peter to take half of the rest
while the girl asked, "What are we watching?"
Peter looked around in confusion. He couldn't hear the TV running, so he was
surprised when Derek answered, "The Terminator! Stiles was shocked by the lack
of Liam's cinematic education so he took it upon him … and us … to remedy
that."
Grinning, Lydia opened one of the beers and took a sip. "Good old American
action movies. I take it we have hamburgers and curly fries?"
"I think Allison ordered cesar salad for you."
Peter followed the three pack-members down the stairs, wondering what was
different about his nephew. Derek seemed relaxed, nearly content and he had
even taken the liberty of rolling his eyes when sharing Stiles' choice of
movies. Before they had gone to Pittsburg, he would have never dared to
criticise his Alpha, not even in his thoughts. Something had clearly changed.
Still, it took Peter a while to figure it out. He was distracted by the shouts
of joy the three of them were greeted with, when entering a home-cinema he had
not known existed. Not even the sarcastic wolf was able to keep his happiness
contained when he smelled the pleasure of the wolves at seeing him again. He
wanted to tell himself that it was only Lydia and Aiden they were happy to have
back. But when Isaac and Boyd shifted to make room for him, he couldn't lie to
himself any longer just to keep his distance. He was with pack again and it
felt damn good.
There were more hamburgers and curly fries than anyone could eat, and still
everybody guarded their own portion of fries jealously. Derek had even claimed
a place on the floor, eating his third hamburger in a row, nibbling at the
fries, moaning nearly obscenely at the taste. They all laughed when a crushed
up piece of wrapping paper hit the wolf on the head while Stiles was glowering
at him from the top level. Peter was surprised to see that Derek didn't even
back down at that, just grinned at the human Alpha who sat next to Scott who
lay angled around Liam and Danny. The boy watched the movie with rapt
attention, taking absent-minded bites out of his own burger.
Unable to let such a good chance to yank his nephew's chain pass, Peter
snickered quietly, "So it seems that your courtship with Stiles stepped up a
notch. Do you need any further advice of how to continue?"
Having had the most wonderful week, finally feeling happy and content with his
human Alpha, Derek didn't want to bicker, so he stated drily. "I can assure
you, I don't need to step it up, nor do I need any form of advice from you,
Peter."
"Really," the older werewolf asked, looking up at Stiles who was licking salt
from his fingers. Such a simple task should not look so seductive, especially
not when the person in question had ketchup smeared at his upper lip and was
watching an explosion on the mirroring wall with rapt fascination. "Maybe I
should give it a shot. He appears to be rather skilled with his tongue."
The mere idea of Peter touching Stiles made Derek see white. He believed in his
partner's faithfulness, he really did, but his uncle had always had a
mischievous streak and Derek would put it past him to try to seduce Stiles just
to prove a point. Before he could even make a conscious decision, Derek had
reached for his uncle's throat pulling him closer, growling at him, "You will
not touch him!"
Everybody seemed to freeze at that open display of aggression and within a
moment the movie was put on pause. Judging the situation, Stiles ordered,
"Peter, Derek, into the gym. NOW!" The human nodded at Scott who was soothingly
rubbing Liam's arms, because the boy had started to shiver at the Alpha's angry
outburst.
Liam might have only been a part of their pack for a week, but he still had
been able to watch Stiles' command his wolves, and he didn't want the Alpha
turn his gaze on him in displeasure like he was now glaring at the other two
wolves.
When the three of them entered the gym, Stiles looked at them with a serious
expression. No matter how much Peter wanted to brush this glare off as coming
from a weak human, he still felt the effect and he had to keep himself under
his iron-clad control so that he would not start fidgeting. Something his
nephew apparently seemed to be unable to, because no matter how subtle, Derek
started to shift nervously from one foot to the other, unable to meet his
Alpha's gaze.
"Gentleman," Stiles started in a business-like voice. "Care to explain what has
just happened?"
When Derek didn't say anything, Peter forced himself to shrug nonchalantly, "We
were just discussing Derek's social interactions, nothing to be worried about."
"Really, the two of you growling at each other like chain-dogs during one of
our movie-nights is nothing out of the ordinary?" Stiles shook his head. "Peter
you have a very irritating concept of what's normal in a family."
Feeling his hackles rise, Peter folded his arms, trying to make himself appear
taller, "I have lived with my family all my life. I am well aware how a pack of
wolves interact."
"Not this pack," Stiles admonished him softly, effectively tampering down the
aggressive tendencies Peter was just working up.
Looking at Derek, the Alpha tried again, "Derek, do you want to tell me the
truth about what had just happened? What had made you lose control?"
"I," Derek swallowed, licked his lips nervously because now that he thought
about it, nothing had happened. His uncle had taunted him and that was nothing
new. That he had reacted so strongly was … well, actually it was unforgivable.
Had something similar happened in public, he would have been in serious
trouble. Hanging his head even further, Derek whispered, "He hinted that he
wanted to seduce you. I didn't like the idea."
Not leaving the younger werewolf out of his eyes, Stiles ordered, "Peter,
leave."
Too smart not to take an out when he was given one, Peter was out of the room
in a heartbeat, leaving Stiles and Derek alone. The teenager lost his tense
posture and sighed, shaking his head tiredly, "Derek, you are an idiot!"
Ashamed the wolf admitted, "I know."
                                     ~ * ~
When they returned, just in time for the great finale, Stiles looked positively
debauched and Derek was glowing. Though their clothes were in perfect order,
they smelled like each other so strongly, that nobody had a doubt what they had
done for the last twenty minutes.
Stiles reclaimed his place on the topmost mattresses with Derek crawling after
him like a giant puppy. The impression was enforced further by the werewolf
rolling up beside the human boy, resting his head in Stiles' lap to continue
watching the sequel of aforementioned movie.
After a while, Stiles spoke quietly, "Peter?"
Looking around, the werewolf wondered if he was not getting out of this as
easily as he had hoped. "Yes?"
"Don't do that again." The boy looked down at him, pointedly caressing Derek's
hair while occasionally scratching his neck.
Smiling at the picture of utter joy his nephew presented, Peter allowed himself
a tiny smile and lowered his head in agreement. "I won't, especially not since
apparently my nephew has got it covered."
Looking down at his lover with kind eyes, Stiles whispered, "So he does."
Before returning his attention to the big screen.
                                     ~ * ~
***** Demon and Master *****
Chapter Summary
     Now we look into Danny's perception of Stiles and Derek's new
     relationship status.
     You know, the one where the 'new wolf' all of a sudden spends a lot
     more time with the incubus' master.
Chapter Notes
     So, despite having been a very poor author, not replying to sent e-
     mails in detail and sharing my thoughts, my trusted betareaders
     'Memprime' and 'Wecantgiggleatacrimescene' (shorter name please!)
     have not abandoned me and keep helping me with this story.
     Thank you very much for that and I hope you will enjoy me picking up
     this story again, as much as I will ;).
The beginning of the year was in full swing and despite understanding the
advantages of the new book-keeping system, Danny could not really appreciate
it, since it meant twelve to sixteen hour work days. The hacker barely slept to
make sure everything was up and running as fast as possible before the workload
picked up again. There was a lot of frustrating and tedious coding. There were
nights when Danny simply wanted to throw it all overboard and upload their old
software.
When Derek and Mr. Bale had explained the necessary changes to him, Danny had
thought them logical and easy. But after working with their software for two
days, he had discovered that he had to rewrite a whole chunk of their program
to integrate these changes into their systems. An upgraded book-keeping-system
alone did nothing if it could not facture in the bills and the demand notes.
So, for the first few weeks of the year, Danny and Derek spent a lot of time
together, so that the teenager could understand what changes were needed to get
this system to work. During this time he learned about a whole new side of the
born werewolf. Contrary to popular belief, especially to Derek's own
conviction, Derek was smart, like super-smart, clever with book-keeping like
Lydia was with everything that could be calculated. But to see this strength in
Derek you had to see him work books, juggle accounts and shift payments to
optimize either business volume or profit.
Though Derek had troubles at the beginning in communicating his vision, once he
and Danny were on the same page, it was like they were speaking a different
language together. For days on end they talked about their new program, setting
up camp in the conference room of the executive suite. Meredith or Isaac were
supplying them with food and drinks, but otherwise rolled their eyes and
avoided them at all cost, unable to understand a word these two exchanged.
At the beginning of February, Stiles needed Danny on negotiations with a
particularly difficult client. Of course the teenager had relented, although
they had agreed when taking over the company, that bringing in the incubus for
client-business was cheating. After talking to these people for more than a
week without finding a consensus, Stiles had practically begged Danny on his
knees to take over. It would be an understatement to say that Danny was
freaking out over this. He did not even notice the small treats of sweets,
coffee and sandwiches that appeared on his desk at all times. He mindlessly
consumed them, just to keep his strength up to deal with these resisting new
clients during the day and the coding in the evening.
On Friday they had made a habit of sharing lunch in the conference room, using
the time to talk about the negotiations and how the program was coming around.
And though the coding was nearly finished, the negotiations had not been nearly
as successful. Though both the new client and the Red Hood Trading Company had
agreed upon doing business, they were unable to hammer out the details to
everybody's satisfaction. So Danny was cranky and tired and overall frustrated
and when Stiles kissed Derek lovingly, before returning to his office, the
incubus snapped, "I know that the two of you are happy but could you like not
flaunt your new relationship in front of me? That would be much appreciated!"
While Derek flinched back, as Danny had never spoken like that before in front
of him, Stiles just nudged him to leave the room, before he turned towards his
friend. Looking at the pack's hacker with raised eyebrows, Danny managed to
withstand that stare for a mere minute before deflating. His voice was tiny and
full of regret when he whispered, "I'm sorry."
For a tense moment, Stiles didn't say anything. But then he opened his arms for
Danny who sank into them, burying his face in Stiles' shoulder, clinging on to
the other boy for dear life.
"Mr. Stilinski, your two o'clock is waiting downstairs." Meredith piped up at
the door, but Stiles only waved her out. "Tell them I'll be down in a moment."
"Danny," Stiles said quietly, cupping his friend's face gently, "Tell me you
can't do it. This client is prestigious, it would increase our reputation, but
we don't need their money. Sure it would be great to make the deal, but you
know that we are not in any kind of trouble. We are not as dependant on them as
they seem to think. Tell me you can't do it and I will kick them out so fast
their heads will be spinning. They are not worth for you to work yourself to
death over this."
Danny closed his eyes, savouring the undivided attention he received from his
master. Though Ethan and others kept the incubus satisfied and well fed, Stiles
had not had as much time for him ever since starting his relationship with
Derek. And though the demon was happy when his master was happy there always
was this small pang of longing when Stiles was touching someone else.
Still, despite the offer, he shook his head, looking into Stiles' concerned
eyes, forcing himself to smile, "I can do this. Don't worry."
After watching his friend for a heartbeat, Stiles kissed his forehead and
agreed, "Alright. But tell me if you change your mind. Okay?"
"I promise," Danny whispered, forcing himself to take a deep breath when Stiles
rushed out of the room to see the representatives of a delivery company they
had taken into contract only weeks before. There were still minor blips to
erase in their working relationship before everything would run smoothly.
                                     ~ * ~
So focused on getting his papers into order, Danny only noticed Derek's return
when the werewolf spoke up, "Why did you lie to him?"
"I don't know what you mean." The teenager brushed off the question.
Shutting the door behind himself, effectively sealing them in, Derek folded his
arms before his chest. "Don't colour me stupid, Danny. I'm a werewolf, in case
you have forgotten, I can hear when someone is saying something he does not
really believe in."
"What is it to you?" Danny snapped at the person who occupied his master almost
exclusively. "This is my problem and none of your concern!"
Shaking his head in confusion, Derek approached the teenager, "Since when is a
problem of one family member of no concern to the others? This is not how this
family works, or so you all have led me to believe. You know that you can't
wrap up these negotiations, why have you told Stiles differently?"
Letting the black bleed into his eyes, Danny snapped back, "I have by far not
utilized all of my abilities, wolf. Don't test me!"
Scrutinizing Danny for a heartbeat, Derek stepped closer, hissing under his
breath, "So this is your solution, you want to convince them with your demonic
abilities? Don't you think they will notice sooner or later? That's not
cheating, that's fraud and you know it!"
Too frustrated for logic discussions, Danny shoved Derek away when the wolf
entered his personal space. "So what? It's not as if you have to proof anything
to him! You won him, fair and square, so stop sticking your nose into other
people's business!"
"This is my business as well when you mess with the clients of this company,"
Derek shot back, not allowing Danny to derail him, physically pushing back.
Something was bothering the teenager. It was important and so stressful that
Danny was actually getting aggressive over it, a highly unusual character trait
for him. "You being the incubus of this company's owner does not give you free
reign over his entire business! Your master will not appreciate that and you
know it."
"What do you care?" Danny was shouting by now because honestly he was at the
end of his tether and hearing all the reasons why enforcing his natural
abilities with his demonic ones was a bad idea did not help. "It's not as if he
will be my master for much longer!"
"What?"
Pointing at Derek accusingly, Danny yelled, "He's got you now! You make him
happy, so he has no other use for a demon, other than me making good of my
ability, and convince his clients to accept his terms! We have two new wolves
in our pack. Lydia secured a new town with the help of Aiden and Peter alone.
You are a strong fighter. Why should Master need us any longer?"
The longer he had shouted, the more the demon had pushed to the surface, and
whenever he had shoved Derek, the werewolf had held his ground until they were
so close to fighting that the werewolf thought it but a moment before the first
hit would be thrown. Danny's eyes were completely black now, a void of
desperation and fear. His nails were lengthening and his skin was blooming
black until no white parts remained. Still, Derek stood there, allowing Danny
to vent his frustration, offering a 'safe' opponent who would neither scar nor
scare easily.
The werewolf was bracing himself when Danny let out a sob, hitting Derek's
chest weakly before breaking down. Instantly the werewolf wrapped his arms
around the incubus. He felt Danny's tears drenching his shirt. He had been
aware that Danny had smelled 'off' for the last few days, but since the incubus
was constantly emanating a low amount of pheromones, Derek had not been able to
identify the smell. Now the sadness, anxiety and desperation hit him full
force, since their source was so close.
He held the incubus soothingly. Being much stronger than the demon, the
teenager seemed to relish the embrace. Weakly, he sobbed, repeating the
question that apparently had tormented him for days, "Why would he need me, now
that he has you?"
After hugging and cuddling Danny for a little while, Derek chastised him
gently, "That's such a stupid question, Danny and would be far beneath you,
were you in your right mind and not overworked, tired and I think seriously
under-fucked. Honestly, when was the last time Ethan and you took your time
instead of just having a quickie in the shower?"
"I," the teenager hiccupped before frowning, "I don't remember. The company is
more important at the moment."
Shaking his head, Derek assured him, "Nothing is more important than the safety
of this family. And if Stiles were not stressed out as well, he would surely
noticed that you have overtaxed yourself for the last two weeks. Honestly, had
I not brought you food and drinks, you would have forgotten about sustenance
either."
"You brought these? I thought Meredith …," Confused, Danny looked up from
Derek's chest, embarrassed by his loss of composure. "Why?"
Shaking his head, Derek leaned over to kiss Danny heartbreakingly gentle on his
mouth, "Because, no matter what you or your incubus think, I'm not a competitor
to Stiles' affection. You are important to him, bound and dependant on your
human master. I would never try to push you away.  On the contrary, everybody
who is important to Stiles is important to me as well because Stiles would be
miserable if he knew what you are thinking, if he  even had just an inkling of
how unhappy you are."
Swallowing around his constricting throat, Danny whispered, "How can you be
like this? I know that wolves are possessive. How can you even tolerate me in
his vicinity?" Still, despite his reluctant words, Danny started to gravitate
closer to Derek again, chasing the tender affections and the kiss the young man
had offered.
"Because you are no competition for me either." Derek smiled, "Stiles told me
that despite him being your master, you two never fucked. With everything else
I can deal. Just like Ethan I assume, since you have sex with other people when
he is not around or simply for the fun of it."
"But I'm blowing Stiles when he allows it. I bring him pleasure." Danny
insisted, looking up at the wolf, offering hesitantly, as if not sure if he was
overstepping his bounds, "I would do the same to you if you would allow me."
He lovingly caressed the frightened teenager's face, aware that the boy still
was reluctant to believe that Derek could share Stiles so very easily.  Lips
hovering over Danny's, breath bitter-sweet from the umpteenth cup of coffee of
the day he asked, "Is that really what you want, Danny?"
"No," Danny groaned, reaching for Derek's head, smashing their lips together,
claiming Derek's mouth but submitting easily when the werewolf held his ground.
This was good, so much better than he could have ever hoped for. Sure Derek had
kissed him before, or rather let Danny kiss him whenever the incubus was
hungry. But this time it was different, this time there were feelings. Derek
was not only satisfying physical needs but honestly cared for Danny's
wellbeing, his emotional state instead of just his physical one.
When they pulled apart a few minutes later, Danny was still clutching the
werewolf who held him. It took the incubus a few moments to calm down again,
too drunk on the sweet joy of Derek's affection. Taking a deep breath, Danny
made a decision. He pulled back from Derek, telling the wolf, "I will not use
my powers to convince this client. They want to take advantage and I won't let
them. Either they relent or I will send them to hell."
"Figuratively speaking, I hope," Derek joked, helping to put away lunch, so
that Danny could collect his notes more easily.
Smiling mischievously, nearly back to his old self, after his existential
crisis solved, Danny looked up with his beautiful, warm brown eyes, allowing
the black to bleed back into them momentarily, "We will see …," winking one
last time before leaving the room.
                                     ~ * ~
It seemed that the new client simply had tried to push as much as possible to
see where it would land him. Once he encountered resistance, he was willing to
relent. So when the evening came around, Danny packed up his things, having
made a substantial leap in the negotiations, joining the rest of the pack on
their way home. When pulling up into the garage, they found huge parcels
leaning against the wall. But since Stiles didn't seem to be bothered by them,
they passed them by in favour of dinner.
Upon entering the living room, Derek noticed Ethan's head whipping around from
the game he was playing with Scott, looking at his partner. He could barely
hold in a growl when Scott whooped at levelling Ethan's avatar on screen. Scott
turned around as well to see what had his gaming partner so distracted. Scott
and Stiles shared a wink, when Ethan slowly rose from the floor, approaching
his boyfriend. Derek asked provocatively, "You have a big, bad wolf coming for
you. What are you going to do about it, Danny?"
"Not taking a shower." Danny stated grinning, before whirling around, dashing
up the stairs, laughing when Ethan gave chase. The door to their bedroom
slammed close and Stiles sighed. "It seems that we won't have to wait on their
input on dinner. Let's see what we've got."
Since nobody felt like take-out, Scott, Aiden, Peter and Stiles started to
clean and wrap up potatoes while Derek pulled steaks out of the freezer.
Allison and Isaac had taken the opportunity to sneak off for some alone time.
Derek seasoned the meat and put them on a nice plate on top of the stove so
that they could defrost. When the potatoes were in the oven, Stiles lingered in
the kitchen. The others hovered, realizing that something was bothering their
human Alpha.
Stiles voice was uncharacteristically quiet, when he requested, "Derek could
you please strip my bed and disassemble it? It has to be relocated. Aiden,
Peter you will clean out my room and box everything. Vacuum before setting up
the parts of the bed that's in the garage. Liam, help them please when you are
done with your homework. Scott could you … would you come with me please?"
Unsure about what was going on, everybody saw to their given tasks when Stiles
and Scott vanished into the bedroom of Stiles' parents.
"You don't want to sleep in their bed," Scott pondered, while watching the huge
bed John and Claudia had used. It was beautiful. Made of a dark wood with an
intricate pattern at the top.
"I can't," Stiles whispered brokenly, looking around in a room he had kept as a
sanctum for his parents. "It would feel like a sacrilege. I slept in there when
dad was away on business and later when my nightmares got so bad that I could
barely close my eyes while alone. This is … all of this is theirs. I want to
keep it, but I can't use it."
"Can you let Ally and Isaac help? At least with the clothes? You know that they
would be careful." Scott asked, testing the waters of bringing someone else
into this. The room was generous but not overly so. Still, with eight hands
instead of four, they would be finished in about an hour. That would leave
Stiles time to put up his own bed after dinner before they would retire for the
night.
Thinking this through for a few moments Stiles nodded and Scott went to fetch
his partners, interrupting their play, relieved that Stiles trusted them with
such precious memories.
                                     ~ * ~
And so it came that even before dinner two rooms were stripped bare and the
four of them had even managed to re-assemble Stiles' bed. The light wood looked
a little out of place in the middle of the dark furniture, but Allison assured
him that with a little paint it would fit right in.
Having pulled his shoulder, Peter was snappy when they finally all sat around
the dinner table nearly two hours later, sharing baked potatoes with sour-cream
dip, steak and a fresh salad. "So, does anybody want to tell me why we have had
to wrestle with this stupid, new bed after such a long day? Honestly, couldn't
redecorating your room wait until the weekend?"
Used to Peter's attitude, but placated by the unwavering loyalty he had shown
Lydia, Stiles smiled, infuriating the wolf further. Taking a measured bite of
steak, enjoying the cooking abilities of his partner who had seared them to
perfection, crispy on the outside but medium on the inside, Stiles took his
time to answer. When he looked up at Peter he was grinning. "It will. But I
thought that you might be sick of curling up on a blanket like an animal. Since
the bed Lyds had ordered three weeks ago came today, I thought that you would
prefer to have your own room as soon as possible."
Clearly not having expected that, Peter did not even realize that the piece of
baked potato he had just loaded onto his fork was tumbling down, when he looked
at Stiles, flabbergasted. "My own room?"
Shrugging easily, barely letting on how very much he enjoyed the werewolf's
reaction, Stiles stated, "sure, you are a member of this family and therefore
are supposed to have your own room. The contractor for the room Scott and I
plan on having over the garage will come on Monday. So Liam will have to wait a
little longer."
The young teenager was even worse than Peter at keeping his composure, he
actually lost the grip on his fork, having it clatter onto his plate noisily.
He looked first at Stiles and then at Scott and Danny with huge eyes. "My own
room?" he asked, barely able to believe his own ears.
Sharing a smile, Danny and Scott nodded. "Your own room," Scott assured.
"You are a teenager, it won't do for you to share with older men all the time."
Danny teased, looking much better, calmer and more settled now that he had had
two hours of undisturbed alone time with his wolf. Ethan too appeared blissed
out and satisfied, sharing the joy of the latest addition to the pack.
"I want a huge window facing west!" Liam piped up, before slapping his hands
over his mouth as if he wanted to take back his words.
"We will take that into consideration." Stiles assured him before asking, "But
why do they have to be 'huge'? Normal windows won't do?"
"I …," Embarrassed, Liam looked at his plate, not daring to raise his eye. Only
when Danny brushed his fingers over the back of Liam's hand did the young wolf
dared to speak again. Still his words were quiet, barely audible, when he
whispered. "In Pittsburg, Marie was always afraid. Afraid of the other gangs,
of our own gang. She nailed all the windows shut, leaving only small slits that
would let in sunlight. She would pick me up after school, confine me to our
apartment. I just … I just don't want to live in the dark any longer."
"Oh, pup," Scott choked, turning in his chair so that he could hug Liam,
looking at Danny who did the same from the other side. "We will make sure that
you will get the sunniest room in this entire house. I promise."
"Yes," Stiles assured him as well, "With us, no one has to live in the dark."
                                     ~ * ~
***** Comfortable Habitats *****
Chapter Summary
     Not everybody is delighted by the new sleeping arrangements.
When Stiles returned to his parents' room that evening, Derek didn't dare to
follow. Nobody had had to tell the werewolf that that room was off limits. The
behaviour of the other pack-members had led to this conclusion. So now he lay
in his bed, in the former wardrobe Stiles had had the pack furnish for him and
stared at the ceiling. He could hear Peter next door, rolling around in his new
bed, scenting the sheets and the mattress to make it his own but while his
uncle slowly relaxed, Derek was further from sleeping than ever.
After half an hour, Peter appeared in the doorway. "Would you please just move
your ass and go to him? You are reeking of anxiety and it spoils my first night
in my new room."
"I don't think that I'm supposed to …"
"What? Share his bed?" Shaking his head Peter sneered, "Honestly nephew, I
would have thought you smarter. You shared his bed for the last week, why
should tonight be any different?"
Sitting up, Derek snarled angrily, "That said bed now stands in his parents'
room. This is private. People he loved very much lived there and he is still
grieving!"
Closing his eyes for a moment, Peter exhaled quietly before whispering, "You
can grieve and still want the people you love around." Shaking his head, the
older werewolf let his eyes flash to make up for the uncharacteristic
sentiment. "Now go! I'm tired and want to sleep."
It would be a lie to say that Derek had not thought about this. Really, Peter
was only providing a much needed push to get him moving. He clutched his
cushion tight and left the room. Hesitantly, he approached Stiles' new bedroom,
knocking at the door before entering. Peter followed him with his eyes and
while Derek ignored the doors he passed, Peter noticed each and every one of
them to be slightly ajar.
So Stiles sleeping in this room was the big deal Derek was making of it.
Adapting the behaviour of the rest of the pack, though retreating to his own
bed, Peter left the door open, listening attentively to what was happening in
Stiles' bedroom.
                                     ~ * ~
"I'll be coming to bed in a minute, just lay down." Stiles mumbled absent-
mindedly when Derek entered.
The teenager sat on the window bench, the only free space on a wall that was
covered entirely by shelves. Many books had been removed, replaced with Stiles'
own, but a few compartments looked as if they had been decorated a long time
ago. There was even a small dust layer covering the rich, dark wood. Stiles was
only in his shirt and shorts, looking at the sky, knees pulled up to his chest,
his arms wrapped around them.
Slowly Derek approached his Alpha, daring to caress his cheek, a gesture Stiles
leaned into reflexively before looking up. "Just a few more minutes, I just
need a little time to adjust to being here."
"Stiles it's already close to midnight." Derek whispered, contemplating that
the boy had lost track of time since he had been in here for nearly two hours,
and still was not ready for bed.
Proving Derek's deduction correct, Stiles looked at the clock that hung on the
wall facing the window. "Oh."
                                     ~ * ~
Derek was not the only one having trouble finding any sleep. Though Ethan and
Danny had taken their time this evening, before dinner and soon thereafter, the
demon in Danny's chest still felt restless. Saturated, but not content with his
master's absence. Ethan proved his uncanny ability to read his partner, telling
him straight to the face, "You don't want to sleep here. You are not
comfortable by my side."
"No!" Danny looked up from his place on his wolf's chest. "I am, really, Ethan
I …," The teenager was silenced by his partner's fingers that trapped his
words.
"It's stupid to lie to a werewolf, you know that, love." Tenderly brushing away
a wayward strand of hair, Ethan inquired, "What happened today?"
"I …," Danny thought about the afternoon before expressing his concerns. "Derek
told me that he had never intended to squeeze me out of Stiles' affections."
"Of course not!" Ethan exhaled scandalized. "Why on earth should he want that?"
Rolling his eyes, explaining slowly, "Because I am a sex demon. I am evoking
passion and desire in my victims and even in my master. What wolf on earth
would accept such a person in his partner's vicinity?"
Caressing his partner's head, finally realizing where this was going, Ethan
suggested, "You were afraid that Derek was jealous and would push you away and
that Stiles would let him because he had him now. You were afraid that Stiles
wouldn't want you any longer now that he has someone that satisfies his needs."
Ashamed Danny hid his face, nodding wordlessly.
"Danny, please look at me and tell me why Stiles claimed the position of your
master after that incubus turned you unexpectedly?"
Reluctantly raising his head again, Danny explained, "Because a demon gives him
an edge? My skill-set is unique and I don't share the wolves' vulnerabilities."
Slightly hurt on his human Alpha's behalf, Ethan shook his head. "Is this
really what you think? You get turned by a rogue incubus during a threesome we
got seduced to. And you think your friend helped, when your world tilted off
its axis threatening to break apart, because he saw an advantage?"
Blanching Danny realized how very wrong the assumption he had based all of his
fears upon had been. He wanted make this right, but before he could find the
right words, Ethan had pushed him up and out of bed. "Up you go. We are
sleeping with Stiles and Derek tonight."
"Do you think …?"
Shaking his head with a sad smile, because Danny knew Stiles so much longer, so
how could he get their Alpha, his intentions and his practices, so very wrong?
"When has Stiles ever turned any one of us away?"
                                     ~ * ~
Stiles was currently gathering his courage to go to bed when there was a soft
knock on the door. At his request, Danny and Ethan peeked in and with a tired
but somewhat relieved smile.  Stiles squeezed Derek's hand, before sliding off
the window bench. Danny looked as if he needed him, but tonight, Stiles wasn't
sure if he didn't need his pack more than the other way around. Because no
matter his reluctance, if they desired to sleep with him, he would never make
them wait.
When they finally lay in bed, Derek and Danny in his arms while Ethan laying
plastered behind Derek, having mumbled something to the werewolf before that
had made Derek smile brilliantly, the human finally exhaled and managed to
close his eyes. No matter the ghosts of the past, with his pack around, he was
sure that he would find sleep.
When he was already dozing off, Danny's whispered words pulled Stiles back from
the threshold of sleep. "You bound with me because you wanted to help me.
Right?"
Looking into his friend's eyes, Stiles whispered, "I bound with you, because
you didn't deserve to have your life ruined over being turned into an incubus
unwillingly. You were unhinged and needed someone to stabilize you. You surely
would have gone to jail or worse, because you were not able to hold yourself
back when you were hungry. Ethan's lenience is a blessing, but in the end it
had always been you who needed to keep yourself under control. I just provided
the means for it."
"You will never leave me as long as I need you. Right?" Danny's words were
nearly inaudible; Stiles could only understand them because they were so close.
Nudging up the incubus' chin, Stiles studied Danny's face as if looking for
something. The young demon had the overwhelming urge to look away, to hide his
distrust and insecurities because his master definitely did not deserve them.
When Stiles gazed at Derek for a moment, the werewolf laced his fingers with
Danny and pulled them to his lips the same moment Stiles leaned down to capture
Danny's lips.
The teenager's words were quiet but no less determined, when he assured his
friend softly, "I will be there for you always, Danny. And before you freak out
next time or work yourself to death on a project you know you can't finish,
come to me. Derek is someone new in our lives, but he is determined to support
you, not someone who takes me away. Understand?"
"Yes, Master." Danny whispered, gratefully chasing Stiles' lips for another
kiss before leaning over Stiles' body to steal one from Derek as well before
curling up at Stiles' side.
After Stiles had shared one last kiss with Derek, he pulled his partner close
before his eyes fell on Ethan. The other wolf smiled at him most tenderly,
communicating a wordless, "Thank you."
And for a moment Stiles let go of Derek to interlace their fingers, promising
quietly, "Always" before pulling his pack closer, finally drifting off to
sleep.
                                     ~ * ~
The contractors for the new room over the garage worked as quickly and quietly
as possible, at least when there was someone was in the house. Renata, the
maiden, had agreed to supervise them during the week, grateful for the extra
cash, and motivated them so that in less than a month Liam's room was furnished
and ready for use.
Stiles had decided that the roof of the room would be transformed into a
terrace where the girls could lounge in the sun, while the wolves were
'playing' in the backyard. There were nice decorations along the edges and
flower-pots at every corner. It was really a beautiful addition to the house.
But nothing compared to Liam's room.
Everybody had kept the boy away from the construction zone. Danny had talked to
him about what he wanted, trying to plan the room accordingly. It had become
very clear, very fast, that Liam had spent his entire life in the tiny
apartment with his sister or at the warehouse where his sister's boyfriend had
held court. He had never dared to even think about a potential room for
himself, since they had barely had enough money to buy food. A clean bed and a
solid roof over their heads had been all he cared about.
So it was kind of a big show when his room was finally revealed. The pack had
even organized transport of all of his things from Pittsburg to Beacon Hills.
With one of Isaac's scarfs wrapped around his eyes, he was directed into the
middle of the open space. His nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply, smelling
fresh, oiled wood, the furniture and the floor. Remnants of the cleaning
products and books and clothes he remembered from home. He turned several
times, trying to find his bearings while the pack surrounded him, chuckling at
his enjoyment of their little game.
Finally, when the boy let out a choked sob, they parted in front of him,
allowing him to make his way towards the small walk-in-closet. When he pushed
the mirror-door aside, tears where already trailing down his cheeks. He pulled
out the human who had hidden there, wrapping his arms around her in a bone-
crushing hug, burying his face in her neck. "Marie …," Liam whispered, holding
his sister as close as possible, not caring that he was still blindfolded.
The teenager had gotten a pretty good grip on his wolf and had even attended
the local High School for the last few weeks. So, to prove how very proud they
were of him, Scott had requested that Marie to deliver her reports personally
this month and not have Aiden and Peter drive upstate. The overwhelming
happiness that radiated from both the boy and his sister was proof that he had
made the right decision. The pack pulled back to give the tiny family time to
catch up.
Danny and Scott had discussed the layout and while there was a queen-sized bed
in one corner, a desk at the other and the eastern wall covered by shelves that
surrounded a generous window-seat like in Stiles' bedroom, they had left most
of the hundred-and-thirty square foot free. The western wall was entirely made
of bullet-proof glass and at the far side from the door there even was a door
onto a tiny terrace, because – as Scott had argued – Liam was a teenager and he
was bound to make a dash sooner or later. Best to give him a chance to do it
with an entrance-slash-exit so they could prep for it, rather than him jumping
out of a window, messing with their security system. So while everything was
included into the surveillance of the house, Liam's door had a special code
that didn't need extra engaging. As soon as it was closed the system was
started and there was a camera overseeing his terrace and the southern part of
the property.
Since it was the day after the full moon, and Liam had done so well last night,
showing his claws and fangs but getting it under control pretty quickly, the
pack decided to let him join their night out. Marie was not invited but
promised to stay with Melissa, asking for Aiden and/or Peter to join her when
returning to Pittsburg. Apparently her associates had a very slow learning
curve, and though the wolves could smell her anxiety, she still didn't back
down when Peter offered his support freely, flashing his eyes and his fangs. A
woman who faced off a werewolf had to be respected. One who asked for help when
she needed it was smart enough to be trusted. Lydia agreed with Stiles when
they discussed whom to send with her as support. In the end it was decided that
Peter and Aiden would return with her since most goons in Pittsburg were
already afraid of them.
                                     ~ * ~
Danny took his time, prepping Liam for their evening out. The boy had received
new clothes during the last month, because for one he had come to the
Stilinski-McCall-pack empty handed, and second because the pack had higher
demands on clothes than 'cheap and generally fitting'. Scott growled low in his
throat, making the younger teenager flinch back, when he entered the living-
room with fitting black jeans and a tight dark-grey button-down, eyes lined
with dark kohl and lips tinted red. They all had to admit that Liam looked
positively edible, at least when looking at him from the point of view of a
bunch of vampires, but Danny put his arm around the teenager's chest from
behind, supporting him, when facing the Alpha.
"Don't worry, Scott. I will find him a patron and nobody will dare to touch
him." The incubus promised, knowing that not only would Scott tear off the arm
of anybody who dared to touch their pup. He personally would drain anybody who
would come within a three foot radius of his thrall with less than pure
intentions. Since he was an incubus, the chances were good that he would be
able to spot dangers for Liam before it could reach the vicinity of the boy.
Thankfully, Stiles stepped up to the other Alpha, placing a calming hand on
Scott's chest. "Don't worry, Scotty. No member of this pack will allow any harm
to come to Liam. Right?"
Reluctantly, Scott exhaled and forced himself to calm down. Quietly he told
Stiles, "I reserve the right to tear apart anybody who as much as touches him
roughly."
Smiling, Stiles pulled his best friend towards the garage, assuring him, "I'll
have Peter hold them down for you. Deal?"
Scott was placated by the promise, but only managed to relax when Isaac wrapped
his arms around him from behind when they slide onto the motorcycle behind him.
Allison had decided to ride with Peter, being assigned to protect and/or keep
him from doing something stupid. Since Club Salvatore had been closed after the
first full moon of the year, this would be Peter's first time with the
vampires. He definitely was in for a surprise because if Derek hadn't known, it
was very likely that Peter didn't know either about the clan of vampires who
had lived in Beacon Hills for the last twenty years.
                                     ~ * ~
***** Thralls *****
Chapter Summary
     As in more than one ;).
Chapter Notes
     I know you all are waiting how Peter will do in Club Salvatore. Don't
     worry, we will look into that in detail.
     My everlasting gratitude goes to my betareaders
     'Wecantgiggleatacrimescene' and 'Memprime'.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Peter was close to sneering when the pack passed the long line of potential
guests in front of the 'Would be Vampire-Club' that hosted most of the club-
scene in Beacon Hills. He had been a regular guest of this establishment some
ten years ago, but he had not bothered to return ever since the fire. He had
outgrown the desire to party.
He couldn't help but snicker when watching the people waiting to get in. Surely
the two Alphas of Beacon Hills would have no problem getting permission to
enter. No bouncer was immune to a little persuasion from Benjamin Franklin. The
werewolf was a little surprised, when the tall, black man put his hand on
Liam's chest, keeping him from entering. Danny still had his arms around the
boy but for the life of it, Peter could not hear what he told the bouncer.
Still, they were able to pass and as expected, Stiles led the pack straight
over the dance-floor, the crowd parting for him, and towards the bar. After
having his first drink, Peter saw the owner of the club, Katerina: a gorgeous
blonde with legs a mile long.  He watched as she approached Stiles and kissed
his cheeks.  She then did the same with Derek, who seemed to be fused to
Stiles' side. Then she asked to dance with the Don and Peter came to realize
that this Club was located on Stiles' territory. Of course the lady was trying
to butter Stiles up; she was about to pay him her monthly due.
After taking another sip of his drink, he pondered whether he himself wanted to
dance as well, since a gorgeous red-head was looking his way who seemed
positively edible. Peter was surprised to find Derek sliding off his stool,
placing his hand on Stiles' back. After looking at the two of them, the lady
smiled knowingly before they all approached the dance-floor. The couple was
pulling the woman into their midst, grinding against her seductively. It surely
was a sight to behold and when the previously mentioned red-head approached
Peter, he agreed to dance with her, smiling, but still showing far too many
teeth to appear harmless. Surprisingly, she was not frightened by the gesture,
but apparently charmed by it.
                                     ~ * ~
Danny was enjoying Liam's eagerness when the boy drank in the atmosphere of the
club. In Pittsburg he surely had not been allowed to enter such establishments
and even if he had, Danny doubted that they would have been as sophisticated as
Club Salvatore. Liam's emotions were intoxicating to Danny and he enjoyed
pulling the boy to the dance-floor. The young vampire he had fed for the last
six months approached them and smiled shyly before joining them at the incubus'
inviting gesture. The new vampire touched Liam's hips, angling lower but pulled
back his hands when the incubus flashed his dark eyes in warning. Still the
undead did not allow himself to be derailed. He talked and laughed with Liam,
and after a while Danny felt safe enough to leave them be.
When he returned to the bar, Danny felt an itch at the back of his neck. There
was a feeling of irritation he could not place nor identify. When he looked
around, he found all members of his pack well and accounted for. A look towards
his alphas revealed that they were lost in their own amusement, clearly not
picking up any unease. Turning his gaze inwardly, Danny smiled before asking
the bartender for another stool. It had not been his own irritation he had felt
but that of one of his thralls. Since Liam was well at the moment, there was
only one other person in Beacon Hills who could be the source of that feeling,
and he had to be pretty close to influence Danny that intensely.
Walking towards the exit, Danny smiled when he spotted the person he was
looking for. The young man tried to explain to the bouncer that he only wanted
to peek inside and leave again. He only had to talk business with one of the
guests. It would not take more than five minutes, honestly! When Danny put an
arm around Jordan from behind, the deputy nearly lashed out, but the incubus
held him tight, nosing at his nape to calm him. It would do no good to assure
the bouncer that Jordan was his, so he whispered into his thrall's ear, "Flash
your eyes and he'll let you in."
Looking at the tall teenager in surprise, Danny opened his arm, to allow
Parrish to step closer to the black man, nodding at him encouragingly. Taking a
deep breath, Jordan reached into his soul, summoning powers beyond the mundane,
letting his eyes burn up. He shivered a little when pushing the supernatural
back. The bouncer raised his eyebrows in surprise, but stepped out of the way,
allowing the deputy to enter.
As soon as they were down the stairs, Danny pulled Jordan aside and kissed him
hungrily. Overwhelmed by the demon's desire for a heartbeat, the young man sank
against him, urging closer still and opening himself up for Danny to pull and
pull endlessly. He was close to losing the last of his self-restraint when
Danny left his lips, mouthing along his jaw until he reached the man's neck,
nibbling on the sensitive skin. Pushing at the broad chest in front of him,
Jordan shivered, trying to push Danny back despite his every instinct demanding
to pull him closer, "I can't. Please, stop. I have to talk to … oh god!"
"Two thralls in one place," Danny purred. "This evening is about to go from
good to brilliant!"
Being an officer of the law came with its advantages, for example picking up on
such information, even when close to coming in his pants. "What other thrall?
Danny!"
Pulling back slightly, plastering himself against Jordan's back, sucking at his
earlobe, Danny pointed towards Liam. "Our newest addition: Liam Dunbar. He was
the insurance for his clan's compliance at the beginning, but now he is pack."
"Insurance …," the other man started hoarsely, barely keeping himself from
grinding back against the incubus. "Insurance like me?"
"Not like you, never like you, beautiful." Danny assured him. "You are mine for
your own protection. You worked with the Stilinskis before; our bond is as much
for our protection as it is for yours."
Thralls were possessive by nature and Danny was well aware of it. He would not
lie, not even to himself, by saying that he didn't enjoy that. It was true what
he had just told deputy Parrish that enthralling him had been partially for the
man's protection. It was the best way to know when something was wrong at the
sheriff's department because the incubus could sense intense stress in those
bound to him. On the other side, it ensured the man's unquestionable loyalty,
not to Stiles but to Danny and for the new Don of the Stilinski-family that was
enough.
"I have …," Jordan tried again, reluctantly pulling Danny's hair to get him
closer one last time before stepping away. "I have to talk to Stiles. Please,
Danny. I can't, not right now."
No, meant no. No matter the circumstances, so Danny kissed Jordan sweetly one
last time, pulling the desire he had just flooded him with, leaving the man
considerably calmer. When touching his earring, Danny saw Stiles instantly
untangling from his two dance-partners, approaching the bar.
A brief chat with their favourite officer of the law revealed that Rafael
McCall had unearthed some new information, some old interrogation protocols
that had not been suitable for court since the person who had given the
testimony had been intoxicated at the time. Still they spoke of demons and
monsters walking the streets of Beacon Hills, doing business with the local
dealers. It was nothing substantial, but enough to point the agent into the
right direction. The question was if they wanted to reveal their ties to the
supernatural, or how far they would go to keep Scott's father oblivious.
                                     ~ * ~
Though this was a serious matter, Stiles didn't want to give up this care-free
evening in favour of an emergency meeting with Scott. Agent McCall would not
discover everything overnight, so Stiles felt safe enough to return to his
lover. They got lost in the music and when midnight was approaching, Stiles
asked, "Will you rein in Peter when it's time?"
Looking around, spotting his uncle who was dancing with not one but two
vampires wrapped around him, Derek had to wonder. "You left Peter roaming
around freely?"
"Why shouldn't I?" Stiles asked. Sure he had kept an eye on the new wolf, but
until now he seemed to be able to entertain himself well enough, without
causing any trouble. So the head of the Stilinski family saw no reason to leash
him, since he was not irking their business partners.
"You were not so lenient when I was here the first time."
Looking at his lover, softly brushing away lingering sweat that shone on
Derek's forehead before leaning closer, Stiles whispered, "The thought of
someone hurting you was unbearable to me. My protective instincts were
impossible to suppress that night, especially since this bastard of a vampire
approached you repeatedly."
Hot joy spread in Derek's gut, because despite Stiles obviously thinking that
he should have kept himself in check, Derek couldn't fault him for his desire
to protect. Especially if he had been the one who received protection. That was
the duty of the alpha after all. This had not happened – well the werewolf had
not allowed it to happen – in a very long time; someone giving so much thought
to his well-being. It was calming and comfortable in a way he could not even
name. He just knew that he liked it, a lot.
Hugging his boyfriend, Derek looked at the clock and a few minutes to midnight,
he kissed Stiles adoringly and whispered, "I'll take care of Peter." He did not
like the idea of Katerina embedding her teeth in Stiles' neck. The mere thought
of it left him cold and bothered. But he was well aware that he could not
contradict the agreement with the local vampires. They offered money, Stiles
and his pack offered protection and blood. They had even asked, as politely as
possible, if Derek thought about offering as well. But he did not feel
comfortable with it, so nobody had mentioned it again. Obviously the donation
was voluntary and they had not treated him any differently after his refusal.
The vampires Peter had been with had led him back to the bar reluctantly,
leaving the dance floor to Katerina and her inner circle as well as the pack.
While the werewolf was sipping his drink, He slowly picked up on the changing
atmosphere.  He snickered when his nephew approached him. "Aren't you worried
that your little human boyfriend will find this gorgeous blonde more to his
liking if you abandon him now?"
Unwilling to play games, being tense and a little on edge himself, Derek shook
his head with forced calm. "No, I trust him."
Sneering, Peter turned around, leaning against the bar, in a pose of
relaxation. "Not that you have another choice. Stiles is your Alpha after all.
He can entertain a relationship with whomever he likes."
Derek wanted to snarl, to flash his eyes and teeth at Peter for even suggesting
that Stiles was unfaithful. But he held himself under iron control. Soon the
feeding would start, and he couldn't let his uncle make a scene. He had a vice
grip around Peter's chest the moment the wolf started to roar when he
discovered the true nature of the inhabitants of this club.
Derek was nearly not strong enough to hold him back, because Peter was fighting
him like a mad man. He was partially shifted, clearly dominated by his
instincts rather than his intellect. Still Derek noticed that instead of trying
to approach Stiles, as Derek had on his first night, Peter gravitated towards
Lydia who had the gorgeous platinum blonde she had been feeding for the last
six months and a raven-haired beauty drinking from her neck.
The girl was looking up briefly, but did not stop the vampires who took her
blood, when she saw that Derek was barely able to hold Peter back. She even
touched their heads encouragingly, but the moment they pulled back, kissing her
neck, she approached the bar, not even a drop of blood marring her white skin.
Unfazed by the transformation that distorted Peter's features, Lydia reached
for the collar around his neck and twisted it painfully, cutting off his air-
supply and therefore his snarl. Her voice was forceful when she ordered,
"Peter, stop it!"
The effect was instantaneous. Losing all fight the wolf whined under his
breath, he buried his face in Lydia's neck, nosing and lapping at the skin that
had been broken moments before. Looking around, finding both Aiden – who was
just pulling back his hand from a sweet little black-haired vampire – and
Katerina, who gestured upstairs – Lydia pulled Peter closer into her arms,
whispering into his ear. "Get me upstairs. Aiden will show you the way."
Without a moment's hesitation, Peter lifted the girl from the ground, barely
separating himself from her and carried her up the steep staircase with Aiden
guiding them. Stiles returned to the bar, allowing Derek to scent him as well.
The teenager turned in the warm circle of his lover's arms, looking at Katerina
who offered a sweet drink. "That went well, don't you think?"
Urging the teenager to take the cocktail, Katerina scoffed and used Stiles'
barstool to keep herself from swaying. The spark's blood was like the strongest
wine and it instantly rose to her head. It was a pleasant feeling she didn't
want to miss for the world. She was aware of the power that came with such
strong blood, maybe even better than the spark himself. But she would honour
their deal; keeping to herself and her clan out of Stiles' business as long as
he was protecting her and hers. "I never understood why you just don't tell
them before they come here. That would surely lessen the shock."
Shrugging, gratefully taking the water Derek offered after the sweet cocktail,
Stiles reminded his hostess, "Because your deal with dad stated that we keep
your secret under any circumstances. I would never break your trust. That's not
how I do business."
Shaking her head, the female vampire reminded him, "They realize at midnight at
the latest. Do you really think it would bother me if they knew at the
beginning of the evening?"
"This is about the principle of the thing," Stiles explained, "You made a deal
with my family, I am honouring it to the letter. Everybody wins."
"If you say so," Katerina shook her head, smiling a little. The truth was, she
was glad that Stiles was so insistent. She had been betrayed many times, it was
good to know that there was someone she could put her faith in. Even if he was
only a teenage boy.
                                     ~ * ~
Upstairs Aiden was unable to keep Peter from biting Lydia's neck, covering the
bites of the vampires with his own. He threw the werewolf through the room
angrily once he pulled back. Peter was completely shifted by now, strong and
nearly unstoppable. Under different circumstances, Aiden would have been glad
for such a strong wolf defending his girl, especially after seeing the way
Peter was doing business. The werewolf was determined and efficient, and Aiden
doubted that anybody could ever touch Lydia as long as she was with him. Still,
biting her was not an option, and they had to drive that message home.
He was wrestling the other werewolf, all the while Lydia was checking the
sluggishly bleeding wound on her neck in her mirror, sighing exasperatedly,
dabbing away the blood with a clean tissue before wrapping her scarf firmly
around her neck. She had one simple rule when coming here: no blood on her
clothes. But now the top was ruined and she had really like the way it enhanced
her features. When Aiden requested her help with a strangled, "Lydia, do
something!" the girl rolled her eyes and stashed away her mirror.
With the small clutch she was using tonight, she swatted Peter right on the
nose like an unruly puppy and demanded, "This is enough now! Back off, both of
you!"
There was a reason why this girl was outranked only by Stiles. Her natural
authority had the wolves heeding her command, backing away into different
corners without hesitation. Once she was sure that they both had settled, she
reached out towards Aiden, who was completely human again. She kissed her
boyfriend tenderly, allowing him to wrap his arms around her. In a pack it was
very important to make the hierarchy known right from the beginning, especially
in a time of crisis.
When she heard a low whine from a werewolf more animal than human a moment
later, she took her time to turn around, stating with a judgemental look, "If
you can keep yourself under control and not maim my neck again, you can come
closer. But if I see one more tooth you are banned from our room for a month.
Are we clear?"
When the werewolf approached slowly, hesitantly, the girl asked again, sharper
this time, "Are we clear, Peter?"
Terribly, horribly ashamed by his loss of composure, Peter straightened out of
his crouch, forcing the wolf and his instincts back. "Yes, Lydia," was the
quiet, nearly inaudible answer. How on earth could he have lost control so
easily? He dreaded what the pack would say when they saw him later, but the
concept of Lydia getting hurt had been enough to drive him out of his mind.
The fear had not been as strong as the day with the fire, but nearly. Lydia was
… family now, he could not allow her to get hurt. He would rather hurt himself
than her. But when he looked at her slightly bleeding neck, he realized that he
had done what he had feared the vampires would do. A vampire bite could turn
you, everybody knew that, or at least Peter hat thought he knew that. But the
human members of the pack did not seem the slightest bit concerned. In his fear
of losing this girl, losing his new family, he had injured her far worse than
those monsters.
With regret, he touched her neck, unable to meet her eyes and Aiden's only
briefly when he whispered, "I'm sorry." Leeching away the pain, Peter realized
how much Lydia was relaxing into her boyfriend, and he closed his eyes in
mortification and repeated, "There is no excuse for what I have done."
Allowing him to help because she was aware that his wolf needed that now, Lydia
snapped at him, "You are right, there is no excuse. You are an Alpha and were I
only human your bite would have either killed or turned me. But you didn't even
think about that, you only thought about staking your claim over that of the
vampires I was sharing my blood with."
Peter pulled back as if Lydia's words were blows and in a way they were. "This
is not how this works, Peter." She stated in a hard tone. "You belong to us
now, not the other way around. We might have needed you, but the decision who
gets bitten and who doesn't is not up to you. Clearly you can't be trusted with
your reactions. If you can't act human in a crisis, you will stay wolf until I
say otherwise."
Peter nodded reluctantly. Aware that he didn't have any foundation to
contradict her, he pulled back, undressed and transformed. The sooner he
started his punishment, the sooner it would end. Only then could he making it
up to the girl he had just injured without reason.
                                     ~ * ~
When the three of them returned some time later, nobody mentioned him being a
wolf. Stiles merely raised an eyebrow, but Lydia just calmly returned his gaze
and with that everything seemed to be settled. Around three a.m. they spilled
into the cars, driving home. Jorden Parrish was joining them. Clearly the
incubus felt the desire to keep his thrall close.
Danny rarely approached Jordan outside of work. But tonight he used the good
fortune that had brought his thrall to their club. Stiles wondered if Ethan
would accept another man into their bedroom. Usually Danny fucked his victims
in toilet stalls, lonely alleys or rooms rented by the hour. The incubus rarely
left a good opportunity unused, but Stiles had yet to witness Ethan joining in
on such activities. The werewolf merely hovered protectively and took his
incubus home with him afterwards.
Sunday promised to be an interesting day.
                                     ~ * ~
Chapter End Notes
     I have a question I have to ponder for the final chapters. What would
     you think is each and every pack-members greatest fear? For Derek it
     would be betraying his family again (accidentally or not) but what
     about the rest?
***** Jordan Parrish *****
Chapter Summary
     Let me introduce you to the relationship between a thrall (a grown up
     one) and his 'master'.
     I admit this is very smutty and barely important for the story. So
     you might as well skip it ;).
Chapter Notes
     My gratitude goes to Memprime and Wecantgiggleatacrimescene, because
     they remain my trusty betas.
     My thanks as well to: Maru_Moreno_29, AlexandraF, Thraceadams,
     CrimsonArcanum, Learningwriter, Rowandre, holysmokesari,
     VampuricWerewolf and Rogue_Bard. I have not responded to each and
     every one of you in person and thanked you for your help with the
     fears for my little werewolf-family, but I have read all of your
     message and considered each and every suggestion. And while most of
     them won't make it into the final story, I was really delighted to
     read them, because they gave me a lot of ideas.
Being in the proximity of the incubus always brought a kind of haze over
Jordan. Danny had claimed him a little over a year ago when he had found the
deputy cornered by some of their business associates. The dealers had been
stupid, stoned and blind with fear to have a member of the Beacon Hills
Sheriff's department catching them in the act. So while their customers had
fled the scene, three of them had approached Parrish threatening him with gun
and knife.
Danny had stopped them because this was not the family's way of doing business.
The thugs had been beside themselves and had not even recognized him. From
injuring an officer of the law there was no turning back and Danny had known
that he had to prevent injuries of any kind. Leaving Ethan and Aiden to seal
the entrance of the alley, he had attacked their dealers and when Danny got
shot during the fight, he had heard the deputy firing in retaliation.
Looking up from the bleeding wound on his side, Danny had spotted the young man
approaching his attacker with a smoking gun. When Danny he looked up – he had
partially transformed due to the pain – Jordan had backpedalled and aimed his
gun at Danny, trembling with fear. Looking at the wound, Danny realized that
his skin had started to bloom black with the gunshot-wound at its source. He
had been strong that night so the demon had surfaced, healing his host's body.
Shedding his shirt, allowing wings he couldn't hold back at the moment to
unfold, Danny had approached the deputy cautiously, holding out his clawed hand
to show that he was unarmed. His powers were pouring off of him in waves, and
when Danny demanded seductively for Jordan to give him his weapon, the young
man had done so, albeit with fear and trepidation. Danny had closed his hand
around the gun, stepping closer yet until he was nearly chest to chest with the
slightly smaller man. Carefully he had stashed away the service weapon, purring
into the officer's ear, "Now nobody can prove that you shot the guy. I
appreciate the protection." Having an officer lose his service weapon was kind
of a big deal, but Jordan Parrish was a good man, he would come up with a
story.
"I … you …," Parrish had stammered, swallowing heavily around his constricting
throat. His eyes had taken in the person in front of him that could not ever be
real. Deciding that this was only a dream, Jordan had reached out and had put
his hand on Danny's black chest. The skin had been warm and soft and …
everything he had ever wanted to touch. Looking up he saw the demon licking his
black lips before leaning closer slowly, brushing his lips over the deputy's.
The desire to kiss had been overwhelming, and since it had to be a dream,
Jordan had not held back but opened up under the seductive touch.
The moment Danny had kissed him, the overwhelming strength of the young man had
had the incubus swaying on his feet. Possessively, the teenager had pulled
Jordan closer, kissed him deeper. He had touched every part of the young man's
body that had been within reach. The sex demon had guided his host's actions
when his knees had hit the dirty ground of alley, drunk on the strength of this
prey. He had heard the twins approaching, but had hissed at them in warning.
Nobody would take this delicious prey away from him.
Parrish had been far too gone to put up any kind of fight when Danny had opened
his trousers, pulling free the young man's cock. The deputy had groaned in
delight before Danny had remembered to wrap his wings around the two of them,
shielding them from the word. The blowjob the incubus had offered had been
languid and drawn out and the energy he was pulling from the young man had
seemed endless. When Jordan had finally spilled into his mouth, Danny had
lapped up everything greedily, surprised to find the man staring down at him.
Usually his victims lost consciousness at that point.
But Jordan had only carded his fingers through Danny's hair, eliciting another
purr from the demon, asking hoarsely, "What are you?"
Licking his lips while straightening the deputy's clothes, Danny had giggled,
drunken from the amount of energy he had just ingested. "I think what I am is
very apparent. The more important question is: What are you?"
"I'm … I'm Jordan Parrish, deputy of the Beacon Hills Sheriff's department."
The young man had replied. Reluctantly he had added, "You are going to kill me
now, aren't you?"
Getting up, looking at the man with a mischievous smile, Danny shook his head,
"That's who you are, but not what you are. And no, Jordan, I am not going to
kill you. That's not what I do."
Sneering, clearly unable to believe the demon, the deputy had replied, "After
everything I have just seen. How can you let me live?"
"I …," Danny started, before he realized that he had no clue of how to proceed.
"I don't know."
Everybody else would have run by now, but the deputy had not been afraid any
longer.
"Why are you not fighting me off if you think I will kill you?" Danny had
wondered.
"You are a demon, with wings. What good would it do?" Jordan had answered, at
loss of what to do. No, he had not wanted to die, but he neither had wanted to
spend the last moments of his life fighting the inevitable. He had felt far too
good after what had happened. Better to go relaxed and somewhat happy, maybe it
would hurt less that way.
The deputy had watched Danny touching his ear and had heard him giving an
anticlimactic summery of what had happened. Whatever the reply, it had made him
light up, his smile so strong it had been blinding. When he had looked at
Jordan again, he had folded back his wings, turning around to see the twins
carrying away the dead dealer.
Ethan had watched Danny and Jordan in concern, but his partner had only smiled
and nodded assuring before turning back towards Parrish. Tenderly he had
touched the young man's cheek. "You have seen far too much for me to let you go
easily. But you are delicious and you were helpful and I am allowed to keep
you. Is that acceptable to you?"
"The alternative is …?"
Closing his eyes, Danny had sighed, "You leaving Beacon Hills and never coming
back. I don't want to kill you, but I can't let you return to the department
unsupervised."
Wondering, Jordan had asked, "And you making me your …"
"Thrall."
"What does that mean? Do you plan on captivating my mind so that I won't betray
you?" The Deputy had tried to shed some light on Danny's plan.
When Danny had nodded the young man had taken a step back. "So you  will take
away my free will?"
"No! … Yes. … That's not how it works," Danny had tried to explain. "Ensnaring
you will make you sympathetic to my wishes. It's not mind control, it just
makes you reluctant to hurt or disobey me."
"And what commands would you give? For me to spy for you and tell you what's
going on in the department? For me to turn a blind eye, whenever one of your
victims is found in a dark alley? For me to help your family escape, whenever a
member of it gets captured?" He had asked, folding his arms over his chest
defensively, raising his chin in a last attempt of defiance. Even he had known
that he didn't really have a chance against a demon, especially not with his
two associates within earshot.
"No, Jordan." Danny had assured him softly, reaching for the young man's cheek,
cupping it tenderly. "My only command for you would be to protect our secret.
You are good at what you do and so are we. Otherwise our family would have long
been captured. You obviously know who we are and I don't expect you to not do
your job if evidence becomes so apparent that it can't be ignored."
"How can me doing my job suit your needs?" Parrish had asked, slowly giving up
his defensive stance when the nearly magic touch of the teenager had eased the
fear in his chest.
"Because we have watched you, like every other member of the department. You
are a good man. I will trust you to do the right thing."
"Right thing like what?"
"Right thing like shooting a thug in a dark alley, because he had attacked a
member of a known crime family."
"That was self-defence." The deputy had defended his actions. He had looked at
Danny provocatively as if expecting to be contradicted.
"No, it wasn't." Danny had reminded him, shaking his head slowly, "Because I
have made damn sure that he was not attacking you but me."
"Why are you even giving me a choice in this?" The man had asked, not
understanding why they had had this conversation.
"Because you are a good man," The incubus had repeated. "And though I might be
a bad one, a demon even, I'm not completely amoral. So choose, but know that
you won't get another chance. You either become mine or you leave and never
come back. If you set foot in this town without being bound to me, I can't
protect you any longer."
Hesitating for a moment; Danny had had to send away the twins because they had
gotten impatient; Jordan had asked in a whisper, "What … what would I have to
do?"
Smiling triumphantly because things clearly were going his way, Danny had
stepped closer purring into the deputy's ear, "There are many ways, but how
would you feel about reciprocating?"
Jordan had allowed himself to drink in the enchanting figure, the lean,
powerful form, the black eyes and the wings and tail. Jorden had needed a mere
moment to nod his consent. He had been ready to go down to his knees, yet Danny
had kept him upright, caressing his neck, "Not here little one, let's go to my
car, its cleaner and far more secluded."
In a daze, torn between running and following, Parrish had allowed Danny to
guide him to his luxurious car, noticing that the incubus made a hand gesture
towards the twins who had pulled further away. The backseat of the black
Lincoln was generous and Jordan had not had any problems sinking to his knees
in front of Danny once they had pushed forth the passenger's seat. Still,
taking in the black form who had lost its wings but still appeared entirely
demonic had needed some getting used to.
Expecting the demon to get impatient, the Deputy had reached for his belt-
buckle, only to feel soothing fingers carding through his hair. "Do you want me
to shift back to my human skin? Would that make it easier for you?"
"No, it's just that I …," Jordan had stammered, "I don't really know what I am
supposed to do. This is my first time with another guy."
Obviously thrilled by that piece of information, Danny had pulled the young man
up and kissed him hungrily. The deputy had felt passion overwhelming him and
after a few moments he had started to hunger for the incubus. Eagerly, Jordan
had opened the trousers, delighted that he didn't have to bother with pants and
had then leaned forward to swallow Danny, like the incubus had done with him in
the alley.
But he had achieved nothing but choking himself on the incubus cock. With a
soft laugh, Danny had pulled him back and kissing him again, far more gentle
this time. The incubus had whispered against his forehead, "Take your time, use
your hands, do whatever you feel most comfortable with. This is not a contest
of how fast or how deep you can go."
Looking up, Jordan had felt marginally encouraged by the affectionate smile he
had been given, before looking at the obsidian cock in his hand. Hesitant at
first, he had started to play with it, to trace the veins on the underside.
When beads of white cum had emerged from the tip, he had leaned forward slowly,
tasting them. It had smelled and tasted like nectar and ambrosia, heady and
delicious and soon the young man had given up his reluctance. He had worked
Danny's cock eagerly, lapping up every drop of cum he had been able to produce.
Danny had had to concentrate on not breaking the upholstering of the backseat
with his razor sharp claws because honestly, Jordan's eagerness had been
killing him. The young man had needed a little prompting at first, but once he
had tasted the incubus' seed he had not seemed to be able to get enough of it.
Danny had fought to keep himself under control, because arching up and choking
the young man wouldn't do. Not when his thrall had been so eager to please. And
Parrish had been so very good. He had had the incubus close to orgasm in no
time. Briefly he had wondered if they could make this a regular thing, well
more regular than once every season as was required for the maintenance of the
bond.
When his orgasm had rolled over him, Danny had barely remembered that he had a
job to finish. Clawing his way out of the darkness that had threatened to
swallow him, he had whispered the necessary words to bind Jordan to him and
once he had been finished they had both sat in the car, panting and dazed.
Jordan had had his head on Danny's thigh, slowly caressing the now limp cock in
apparent fascination. Danny had just sat there, caressing the young man's head
lovingly because this was honest to god the best blowjob he had received in a
while.
They had sealed their new arrangement with a kiss and when they had emerged
from the car, Danny had accompanied Jordan to his police cruiser, making sure
he was all buckled up and safe before he had allowed him to drive away. Ethan
had been by his side the moment the car had been out of sight, and Danny had
sunken against his boyfriend gratefully, barely able to remain on his feet. He
had never known how much thrall could affect him, but on the other hand, Jordan
was his first. And he had enjoyed that tremendously.
                                     ~ * ~
Now, about fourteen months later, though Danny and Jordan had met several times
and not only for business, the young man felt reluctant to enter the crime
family's home. This was a step from where there was no turning back. Until now
he had kept his relations to the Stilinski family hidden from his superiors.
But tonight someone surely had seen him getting into the car with Danny and
Ethan and the news would inevitably reach the Sheriff.
Still, he couldn't regret accompanying his master. Danny had kept his promise.
And though Jordan still had been able to keep his free will, he felt drawn to
the incubus, eager to pleasure him and to be of service. sometimes he simply
desired to be close to him. He had received one of the ear-studs, an
inconspicuous piece of jewellery in silver, which did not resemble the
Stilinskis earbuds in the slightest. He only used it in the evening, wore it to
reach Danny to tell the incubus about his day, to hear about his. They never
talked about family business, just about drunken drivers, tardy contractors and
everything else that really didn't matter but gave them a reason to speak.
Now, that he was with Danny, Jordan did not really know how to react because he
knew about Ethan, knew about the relationship between the demon and his
werewolf. Somehow the young man doubted that Ethan would enjoy his lover being
with anybody but him in their own home. So he was surprised when Danny led him
upstairs, with Ethan touching the small of his back reassuringly. The young man
looked around nervously when they entered a room that clearly belonged to his
hosts. Ethan and Danny apparently didn't feel weird since they shed their
clothes as if it was the most natural thing do to.
When Danny noticed Jordan standing there stiffly, he reached for his hand, "Do
you want to join us in the shower?"
"I …," Parrish started, eyes flickering uncertainly to Ethan. "I don't want to
cause any trouble." Because honestly, who would share a man like Danny?
Chuckling lowly, Ethan stepped behind the deputy, starting to pull up his tight
shirt, nosing at his neck, "If you were trouble, I would not have allowed Danny
to bring you. But he wants you, so here you are. No need to be anxious about
it, Parrish."
When they entered the bathroom together, Jordan was a little taken aback by the
generous walk-in-shower. He took in the countless shower-heads and the
sophisticated design, not even noticing that the teenagers had bracketed him
and he shivered briefly when the first surge of water hit him. But soon the
first shock was replaced by a furnace spreading in his gut when Danny started
to kiss his neck from behind, while Ethan reached for the products to clean the
three of them.
Danny's voice in Jordan's ear was pure seduction when the incubus asked, "What
do you want?"
Turning around, Jordan looked into the incubus eyes who showed nothing but
affection, whispering hoarsely, "You … I want to taste you."
Gesturing over his body, Danny smiled, "Help yourself, little one."
The blowjob now was even better than the first one the deputy had given, not
only because the young man had gained experience, but because every last trace
of reluctance was gone. What made this even better was Ethan stepping around
them, hugging Danny from behind, mouthing at his neck, nipping at the sensitive
skin between neck and shoulder with his blunt, human teeth.
Once Jordan had finished with Danny, he and Ethan made sure that the incubus
was clean before Danny and Ethan turned their attention to Jordan, soaping up
his body, his hair, caressing him, sending sparks of pleasure through him until
they had him panting.
Once out of the shower, the two members of the Stilinski family dried their
favourite deputy and guided him towards their bed. For a moment Jordan just lay
there, looking up at the two of them, nearly out of it in the haze of pleasure
they had evoked. But then he realized where he was and with whom and tried
scramble away. Despite everything Ethan had said Parrish knew werewolves to be
territorial creatures. There was no was way the boy was alright with another
man in his partner's bed.
Yet as soon as Danny noticed his attempts to leave, he crawled over the young
man, softly touching his face. "Don't be like that, Jordan. Now that you are
here, don't play coy with us."
Arching into the caress, simply unable to keep his body still, Jordan
shuddered, "But you can't … Ethan … he …"
"Let Ethan be my concern," Danny whispered before lowering himself for a mind-
blowing kiss. Jordan only saw at the edge of his vision that Ethan had produced
some kind of dark bottle from their nightstand, crawling onto the bed behind
Danny. The young man heard a cap open, and a whispered instruction, "If you
want to take him, you have to prepare him. His body will not be as
accommodating as yours, Danny."
Turning away from Jordan, twisting towards his partner who kissed him
possessively, Danny nodded and reached for the offered lube. He put it on
display, making a show of coating his fingers before trailing from Jordan's
still slightly damp belly down to his groin. Seductively he demanded, "Say yes,
Jordan. Please. Let me take you, I promise it won't hurt."
Looking up at the incubus, eyes full of trust, Jordan could only nod. "I know,
you would never hurt me." A little hesitant, he opened his legs for the incubus
and sucked in a hitched breath, when Danny first caressed his hardening cock,
before circling the tip of his hole, excruciatingly slowly, dipping the first
finger into his body.
What followed was pure torture, but in the best way possible. Danny was deep-
throating him again, but did not allow him to cum. Instead he worked on
Jordan's backside, loosening him up with fingers and an occasional flick of his
tongue that drove the young man out of his mind. When he looked up, he saw
Ethan watching their interaction with hawk's eyes, occasionally closing his
hand around Danny's erection, making the incubus exhale hoarsely and push back
into his lover's caress.
When Danny crawled up again, he searched his thrall's eyes, and only when the
young man nodded his consent once more, did the incubus slowly started to sink
into the pliant body beneath him. Once he was completely surrounded by Jordan's
heat, he stopped moving, allowing both of them time to adjust. When Parrish
felt Danny stirring, he looked up watching Ethan crawling up to Danny from
behind, obviously sinking into the incubus' pliant body.
"Is … you … he …," The concept of taking another while the person in question
was taken by himself was more than the deputy could comprehend. Things like
that didn't happen in real life. He felt overwhelmed by the situation, as if
walking in a dream, and the black bleeding into Danny's eyes and the
pleasurable groan was proof that the incubus was delighted as well. When he
looked down at Jordan, his eyes burned with desire, the deep voice of the demon
vibrated through his very being when the boy assured him, "He is. And he is the
only one who's allowed to do that. Now hold on, little one, and enjoy the
ride."
It turned out to become more like a rollercoaster. Jordan could feel Danny
fucking into him, brushing over his pleasure spot with sure strokes. He could
feel Ethan fucking into Danny whenever the incubus hesitated for a moment,
egging his partner on. Ethan's eyes started to glow in the brightest blue and
his fangs elongated, holding Danny in place by biting into his shoulder.
Closing his eyes to the overwhelming bliss, Danny rode the waves of pleasure
both of his bed-partners were evoking in him and inevitably the incubus was the
first to spill.
When he felt his insides flooded with the incubus' hot seed, Jordan arched from
the bed, fucking into the strong, clawed hand that had wrapped around his dick
at some point, unable to look or even care who helped him over the edge. The
hand tightened around his cock nearly painfully, when Ethan's trembling proved
that he too had followed them into bliss. Panting, he sagged against his
partner's body, not strong enough to stay upright.
When Jordan opened his eyes minusculely, he couldn't close them again because
Ethan was scooping up the cum he had spilled over his own belly. But instead of
wiping it off, he offered his hand to Danny who was licking Jordan's seed from
it as if it was the most delicious cream.
Once Jordan was clean, Ethan pulled back, allowing Danny to sag from his hold
and sink down on the bed. The deputy tried to move but could only do so with
Ethan's support. Unsure if he was expected to leave now, he was relieved when
the werewolf whispered, "You can use the bathroom to clean yourself, otherwise
you will stick to our sheets; and no matter how soft they are, you don't want
that."
Looking at the already sleeping incubus, Jordan asked, "What about him?"
Smiling, clearly pleased by the thrall's concern for his partner, Ethan shook
his head. "His body won't allow any proof of pleasure to escape. That's what he
feeds on after all."
When Jordan returned to the room a few minutes later, he found the bed stripped
of the cover, with Ethan wrapped around Danny from behind. There still was a
comfortable spot left for him on the other side of the incubus, and at Ethan's
encouraging nod, Jordan claimed it. He was surprised that despite being fast
asleep, the incubus pulled him close into the position of the little spoon.
With the smell of their shared sexual encounter and huddled into the warm
embrace of his master, Jordan finally closed his eyes and was asleep within
seconds.
                                     ~ * ~
***** Jealousy *****
Chapter Summary
     This one is really self-explanatory.
Chapter Notes
     In two hours I'll be off to see the last Hobbit Movie. I have to
     admit that I have mixed feelings about this one. It's not as if I
     don't know how this story will end and that there will be dead and
     suffering instead of a happily ever after.
The next morning deputy Parrish was included into their morning routine without
anybody looking at him twice. Nobody seemed to think it strange that he claimed
a place at the table.
Maybe Danny brought back thralls regularly, the deputy wondered. Jordan did not
like the jealousy that flared up at that thought, but it was not as if he could
do anything about it. The incubus and he lived in two different worlds and he
had as little right to concern himself with what the demon did than Danny had
any right to peek into his work.
Caring for their own business and only meeting occasionally had worked pretty
well for the last year. So Jordan swallowed his emotions and reached for the
coffee, trying to mind his own business.
When Ethan passed him with a plate full of pancakes, the werewolf stopped and
inhaled deeply. Inquisitive eyes fixated on the deputy. "You smell jealous.
Why?"
Being surrounded by werewolves clearly had its drawbacks. Since it was useless
to deny it, Jordan revealed, "I was just thinking about how accepting everybody
is of me being here. But with Danny being what he is, I'm sure you people get
used to one-night-stands at the breakfast table."
The werewolf snickered – really the young man could not see the slightest
humour in this situation – and then revealed, "You are the first one who stayed
with us because Danny wanted to keep him close. The other thrall that is bound
to our incubus was never fully claimed since he is only fifteen. The whelp
lives with us, because Scott bit him."
"He never …," Jordan started, swallowing around his closing throat in the
middle of the sentence.
Smiling impishly Ethan shook his head. "Not once before you."
Jordan couldn't suppress the smile that lit up his features for the rest of the
breakfast. It was so comfortable to sit between Danny and Ethan, feeling the
incubus' lingering touches and the warm affection from the werewolf by his
side. He might be a third wheel, but at the moment it didn't feel that way and
he was glad.
That not everybody shared that feeling became apparent, when Danny's other
thrall came down to join them.
                                     ~ * ~
Liam stumbled into the room, pulling down a tight-fitting shirt with long
sleeves, smiling at Danny's appreciative nod, but froze in his tracks when he
spotted Jordan. Regarding how Danny and Ethan gravitated towards the man, it
was obvious that he had been with them last night. And all that on top of the
happy and slightly sex-smell the deputy gave off.
Accusingly, Liam gestured towards the other thrall and growled, his fangs and
eyes showing, "So this is how it is. You collect your thralls in clubs and
bring them home to fuck, all the while banishing me to the other side of the
house. But I was here before him, Danny! You can't do that!"
Tilting his head, letting the black bleed into his eyes to assert his dominant
position over his young thrall, Danny hit him with the power of the demon's
voice, when reminding him, "Jordan was my first. The first thrall I have ever
taken and he is here because I want him to be. Anything beyond that is none of
your concern. You belong to me, not the other way around!"
"If you don't want me, why did you even bother saving me in the first place?"
Liam yelled accusingly, whipping around, stomping up the stairs, banging the
door to his room.
Stiles sighed, watching his wolves following the teenager's path with their
eyes, until it ended at the far side of the house, right over the garage.
Carding his fingers through his bed-hair, Stiles asked, "He left again?"
Danny and Scott shared a guilty look but had to nod regardless.
Groaning, Stiles rubbed his hands over his face. "I love this boy, I really do,
as much as every other member of this pack. But this is the third time he left
without a stud. I have already told him twice, you at least as many times,
Scott. I swear to you, when he returns I will slap some sense into him. This is
dangerous and you know it."
Reaching for his best friend, Scott pleaded quietly, "Stiles, he is young. The
full moon is still affecting him. He will learn. I will teach him, I promise."
Shaking his head sadly, Stiles replied, "I'm aware, Scotty. But he can't stay
with us if he doesn't follow our rules. That's too dangerous. We have enemies,
powerful enemies who stop at nothing to harm us. Lydia just told me of another
group that was planning an uprising to take over our territory. We can't allow
ourselves any leniency. If he can't learn …"
"He's just jealous." Danny stated quietly, as if that was an excuse for Liam's
behaviour. But Stiles wouldn't let this one slide.
"Really?" the teenager asked sharply. "When was the last time you strengthened
your bond? You meet with Jordan regularly, but what about Liam?"
When the deputy tried to pipe up, Stiles held up his hand towards him. "This is
not your fault, I am not implying that, Deputy Parrish. Danny is responsible
for his thralls, to make sure that their bond stays strong. To convince them of
his care and his affection. This bond goes both ways and it can't stay strong
when Danny doesn't enforce it regularly."
Angrily the incubus rose, "You know damn well that I can't 'enforce' the bond
with Liam the same way I do with Jordan. Hell, the boy is not even legal!"
"Sit down, Daniel." Stiles voice was cold as ice and every wolf at the table
held his breath.
Even Jordan could feel the power this teenager was extruding. Had he ever had
doubts about Stiles being fit for the position of the leader of a crime family,
they evaporated with these simple words. This was raw power and it affected
every person at the table.
"You took Liam as your thrall at my prompting. You did so without committing
statutory rape. So don't insult my intelligence by implying you can't
strengthen your bond with him without intercourse." The Don of the family
continued coldly. "I'm not saying that you should feed him your cock, but he
damn sure needs more than gaming nights and puppy piles. And if you had taken
care of that, he would not have acted foolishly, or been unnecessarily jealous,
because he would have been sure of your devotion."
Shaking his head, looking at the incubus with tremendous disappointment, he
continued, "You know how possessive bondsmen are. Now Liam is out there,
thinking that you don't care for him. Jordan is sitting here, felling like this
is all his fault. Is that what you want for either of your thralls?"
Shivering, because his master's displeasure dispelled any lingering comfort he
had drawn from last night, Danny shook his head and hung his head in shame,
whispering regretful, "No, that's not what I want. I want them to be happy. I'm
sorry, Master."
Taking a deep breath, calming himself, Stiles looked at Scott. "He's your beta,
so call the shots. Should we go after him or wait for him to return?"
Pondering over the question for a moment, Scott decided, "His wolf will need
the comfort of the pack soon enough. Liam has benefited greatly from being with
us. He's not made for the position of the lone wolf. If he hasn't returned on
his own by six p.m. we will look for him. But let's give him time to cool off.
He will be far more receptive to anything Danny has to say after that."
Nodding his consent, Stiles invited, "Alright, so let's return to breakfast."
                                     ~ * ~
The mood was noticeably subdued after that. But the teenagers bounced back
after a while, talking about yesterday and how much fun they have had.
Everybody but Peter, who lay curled up in the corner of the living room,
without anybody addressing him. When breakfast was put away, Jordan collected
his belongings but hesitated at the door. Danny had not been receptive to his
concerns, but Ethan had assured the young man that nobody blamed him for what
had happened. Stiles was just emerging from the kitchen with a bottle of juice,
making his way towards his office, meeting a hesitant Jordan on his way.
"Sir?"
Smiling crookedly, Stiles told him, "You can call me Stiles in here. No need to
be formal at home."
"Stiles, I …," Jordan started, unsure of how he should phrase his request. It
was a bad idea, he was aware of that, but he really wanted to know that Liam
was safe. "Could I … I mean if you wouldn't mind, could I maybe stay until Liam
returns? Just to make sure that he's alright. I know that I'm not a part of the
family and I promise not to touch anything, but …"
Touching the young man's shoulder comfortingly, Stiles nudged him towards the
living room. "You are obviously not part of the family, because you couldn't do
your job otherwise. But through your association with Danny you are still one
of us. Therefore you are welcome in this house. I don't know if Danny ever
spelled it out for you, but you do have our trust. At least until you prove
that you don't deserve it. Until then, you are free to come and go as you
please."
"I don't … I'm a deputy of the Sheriff's department. And Agent McCall is trying
to build a case against you. Maybe I will have to come and collect you one
day." Jordan reminded Stiles reluctantly.
Chuckling lowly, Stiles shook his head. "That's you doing your job, something
we count on. That's no betrayal of trust. Just do what you think is right and
we will all get along. And now help yourself to some games, movies or books
from the living room. Rummage through the cupboards all you want. Look at the
garage, the kitchen; on this floor, every room but my office is open for you.
If you have energy to spare, downstairs is a gym. Everything with us is pretty
self-explanatory, so enjoy your stay."
Derek, who had waited in front of the door to Stiles' office, since he had
wanted to borrow a comic, looked at his Alpha with surprise. "You are giving
him free rein?"
Shrugging, Stiles opened the door, inviting Derek in, "Sure, there is nothing
conspicuous on this floor, and if anybody notices that he has spent the day
with us, he at least can give his boss details of our home, proving that he had
been sufficiently nosy."
"You put a lot of faith in him." Derek deadpanned, looking at the wall of
comics, deciding which one to choose.
Booting up his computer, Stiles snickered, "I really am not. You know the
furnishings of our ground floor, what could he find that reflects badly on us?"
Going over the rooms and their equipment, Derek realized that there really was
nothing conspicuous. The teenagers kept them methodically clean, which proved
an advantage with the unexpected guest. When he had chosen a comic, he gestured
towards the couch and Stiles invited him to stay with an affectionate smile.
For a few hours both dove into their own world of fiction. Derek realized that
Isaac's considerations from a few weeks ago had been right. Stiles' G.T.A. was
indeed running in Russian, at least if the curses Stiles were throwing at the
screen were anything to go by. When the teenager paused the game after a few
hours, Derek watched him step to the window, leaving the room when he spotted
someone in their back yard.
                                     ~ * ~
Despite how generous the house had been constructed, there were a few things it
was unable to encompass. Danny pacing in his demonic form was one of them.
After brooding for an hour, he had realized that Stiles had been absolutely
right. He had taken care of Liam. He had helped him with his school-work and
had snuggled with him on their movie nights. Danny had played video-games with
the boy and had helped him to hone his werewolf senses. But he had not once
enforced the bond between them, like he had done with Jordan. No wonder the boy
was jealous and unsure of his position.
Angry with himself, Danny swept the sharp edges of his wings over the snow-
covered ground, creating swirling patterns whenever he turned. It was several
degrees below zero, but despite not wearing a shirt, the incubus did not feel
cold. Last night had boosted him considerably and now he used the energy to
keep himself from freezing. Still, he wondered if he really deserved the
comfort, having failed Liam so profoundly. Sadly, Danny knew no easy solution
for his problem.
When Stiles stepped out of his study and into their back yard, he watched Danny
for a few heartbeats before the incubus became aware of him. The two teenagers
watched each other over the distance. Stiles, taking in the agitated,
transformed form of his friend – Danny, looking at his master who stood strong
and unmoving at their back-porch. They studied each other for a few moments,
and though Danny wanted nothing more than approach Stiles, he didn't know if he
was welcome.
Stiles walked along the back of the house, claiming a place on the swing that
stood there year in and year out. When he finally opened his arms, the incubus
practically flew into them, folding his wings just so that he could snuggle
between Stiles' legs, clawing at the teenager's waist to get as close as
possible. For a few minutes he shivered in his master's arms. The connection
between them was nearly overwhelming in this form. Usually it lingered at the
back of Danny's head, stronger than his demonic instincts, keeping him human
and grounded. But now, every sigh, every breath, every little emotion of Stiles
resonated through the demon a hundredfold. This was a part of the spell.
Something that was supposed to make the incubus more pliant to his master's
wishes, but right now it was torture for Danny because Stiles was angry and
worried and generally displeased.
"I'm sorry." The teenager whispered, hiding his face in Stiles waist, "I'm so
very sorry. I didn't think."
Sighing deeply, carding his fingers through the incubus hair, Stiles stated, "I
know. It had been just you and Jordan for such a long time and you have kept up
with his needs perfectly. You made him your loyal servant and assured him of
his importance. But you refrained from doing the same with Liam. And while it
is important for the boy to be sure of his place in our pack, he should know
about his place in your heart as well. You love him, I know you do. Ethan knows
you do. Even Jordan realized this morning when he saw how crestfallen you were
at Liam's accusations. The only person who doesn't know is …"
"… Liam." Danny finished Stiles' sentence reluctantly, ashamed because he was
aware of how right his master was. He had done everything with Liam but what
was really important. He could not have sex with the boy, at least not
intercourse in any form. He had been honest when he had assured Liam the night
of their bonding that he would not take his first time away from him. The first
time you always remembered, as much as the person you had been with. But there
were other ways and he had neglected to choose any of them.
                                     ~ * ~
When around six in the evening the boy still had not returned, even Scott's
nervousness started to show. He paced the living room between five and six
until Stiles finally called out a search party. Scott distributed their
communicating devices and swiftly divided the pack into groups of three. Erica,
Boyd and Derek would make one team, Peter, Aiden and Ethan another, the wolves'
senses would prove invaluable. That left him and Danny for last, since Stiles
would stay behind, with Allison and Isaac as his protection. Lydia would try to
cover as much ground as possible by supervising the surveillance feeds of their
associates. The humans would remain in the house, in case Liam returned.
Since Liam was Danny's thrall, no matter how weak the connection at the moment,
the demon had the best chances of finding him. Once Danny gave the direction,
they spread out in an angular pattern to cover as much ground as possible.
Liam had been missing for an entire day, and Danny was placing him not in town
but further out in the woods. That meant the pack had a lot of ground to cover
to find their lost member. Little did they know how much Liam had suffered
throughout the entire day. Stiles would not need to punish Liam for neglecting
to pick up his communicator. This day had taught the teenage boy that he should
never, ever forgo the protection of his pack, because alone, he was
defenceless.
                                     ~ * ~
***** Devious Competitors *****
Chapter Summary
     Let's find out what has happened to Liam.
Chapter Notes
     As always, even when I am too lazy to mention them, my gratitude goes
     to Memprime and Wecantgiggleatacrimescene. They support me and my
     story and without them you would surely have to deal with a LOT more
     mistakes.
     I know that I am shamelessly stealing for this chapter but in my
     defense: it fits! Or what do you think?
Had Stiles known what kind of day Liam had been looking forward to, he would
not have threatened to slap him. By now Liam had long since realized why the
communication devices were so important. During the daylight hours, Liam
suffered dearly for every crime, real or imaginary, he had ever committed. He
had not even been out of the house for an hour before he had felt a sting at
the back of his neck. When he had reached for it, it turned out to be a needle
and before he could comprehend what was happening to him, he lost
consciousness. He had known that he still was lacking control over his wolf,
therefore he had chosen the nearby forest to blow off some steam. That turned
out to be an egregious mistake.
He came around several times over the next few hours, but all he noticed was
that his hands were bound by something that burned pretty badly and that he was
carried somewhere. He even heard voices but he was unable to concentrate so he
couldn't understand them.
What finally brought him around was a sickening drop downwards and then
breaking through a thin layer of ice, before plunging into the depth of an ice-
cold well. Hectically, he treaded water to reach the surface, but when he
finally got some blessed air into his lungs, he realized that his situation
could not be worse. He was at the bottom of a well that had frozen over, since
little sheets of ice were still floating around him.
His first desperate cry for help was answered by a vicious looking man, who
looked over the edge. Since the man’s face was cast in shadow, Liam couldn't
make out the features, but the maliciousness of his voice made him freeze all
over. "Don't worry little boy. You will sink soon enough and your family will
get the notification of your death. We will pick you one by one. And when no
one is left, this territory will be mine."
Shivering, Liam pressed himself against the wall to make a small as possible
target, but the man only laughed nastily before disappearing again. When
concentrating, Liam could hear two people talking, but couldn't make out the
words. He only noticed that one of them was a man and one was a woman.
After a few minutes of blind panic, Liam tried to approach his situation from a
logical point of view, just like Danny had taught him. He was part of a wolf-
pack and they wouldn't abandon him. They would come and look for him. He was
important to Scott after all, wasn't he?
When he didn't hear anybody for a good few minutes, he reached for his ear to
activate the com-link he had been given, but noticed with dread that it was not
there.
'Stiles is going to be so furious,' was his first thought.
'Still he has ways to find me. Hasn't he?' was the second.
But the third really made him afraid. 'But what if he doesn't want to? Sure,
Scott bit me and saved my life, but he must have had a goal in mind. Nothing
comes for free. And I haven't exactly behaved very good. Maybe they already
regret saving me? What if Stiles is so angry that he wants to teach me a
lesson? What if he will give it twenty-four hours before they will come looking
for me? What if he will wait even longer, as a punishment? What if he won't
search for me at all?'
Reaching for the slippery stone to stabilize himself in the freezing water,
Liam realized that his jeans were dragging him down so he wrestled them off. He
submerged several times, but after a few minutes, he was able to get rid of
them. The freezing water was now freely moving around his legs, but all he
could do was move and keep his body as active as possible. At least he hoped
that was the right thing to do. In high school 'Survival 101 – What to do when
trapped in a freezing well?' had not been part of his schedule.
After an indefinite amount of time, he decided that trying to climb up was the
smartest thing to do. Yet as soon as he reached the top, a black-haired woman
leaned over it and pricked him with a needle, filling his body with some nasty
looking liquid before he could slap it away. He glared at her, let his eyes
flash and tried to growl, but within moments all strength left his body and he
fell back down, submerging again.
With a mean snicker, the woman told him, "Try again, young wolf. There is more
where that came from. My associates might foolishly be interested in the
Stilinski-territory. But I know there is much more at stake here than petty
areas for drug-trade. Tell me whelp, how many people in Mr. Stilinski's
immediate surroundings are dogs like you?"
When Liam only glowered up at her, desperately reaching for the wet stone to
keep himself afloat despite his weakness, she only tossed her hair over her
shoulder, laughing at his misery. "It's an impressive feat to have tamed so
many, I give him that. But in the end werewolves are only animals, and all
animals can be trained. With some you need the carrot and the stick, with
others you need a cattle prod. But no matter what, will discover the best
method in the end. A tranquilizer dart strong enough to take out a werewolf is
strong enough to take out a human as well. Sooner or later your pack will be
eliminated and my foolish associates will take care of the remaining humans.
The less people associate with these beasts, the better."
She disappeared from the edge, only to reappear on an afterthought. "Oh and if
you want to change allegiance, just tell me what I want to know. I have a nice
cosy basket and a shiny leash for you."
                                     ~ * ~
Shivering, Liam sank back into the water, making himself as small as possible.
He would not, could not betray the trust of the pack had placed in him. It did
not even matter if they still wanted him or not. They had helped his sister,
had helped him after the shooting regardless of how little he had deserved it.
They had even saved him when he had gotten shot during the last conflict with
the clan-members. Danny had even explained to him that Liam's distress had
brought them to Pittsburg that fateful day. The pack had gone to great lengths
to help him and his sister and he would not repay them by ratting them out. No
matter the consequences.
He fought to stay conscious when the cold got to him because he knew if he
dozed off he would most likely drown. But it was hard; he was so very tired by
now. The sun was sinking lower and the light turned into a flaming orange hue.
Did the pack even know about him being in trouble? Maybe Danny would realize.
He had before. But on the other hand, Liam had been pretty agitated when he had
left during breakfast. How was his mas… the teenager who had claimed him to
know that something was wrong?
Liam briefly thought about praying. His mother had taught him; had told him
that god was always there to protect him. But then she had died and Maria had
had to do horrible things to keep them both alive. What kind of god would allow
such gruesome things to happen to a person who had done nothing wrong in her
entire life? So the best he could hope for was either a swift death or a demon
and a werewolf coming to rescue him. But would they?
Stiles had a firm grip on his pack and he had explained the rules the Stilinski
family lived by, time and time again. Liam had not really listened, too caught
up in being popular in high school, qualifying for the lacrosse team and
sneaking out after dark to meet with his friends. Would Stiles even want him
back? He was nothing but trouble, as his sister's boyfriend Mark had repeatedly
told him. Liam promised to himself that he would be better. That he would keep
his room in order, just like Stiles wanted. And that he would spend more time
listening to the leader of this family and, most importantly, heed their rules.
When he returned to them. If he returned to them. In case he survived this.
The human who had mocked him at first was convinced that Liam would die in this
well. But the woman who had injected him believed him stronger than that.
Otherwise she would have only pushed him down, not given him some kind of
muscle relaxant. There was a word for it, Scott had told him about this herb
that was very dangerous for werewolves, but Liam couldn't recall the name.
Another thing he had paid too little attention to. Still, if he knew the name
for it, it would still be coursing through his veins, weakening him to the
point where he could hardly keep himself above the surface of the ice-cold
water.
Would he even survive the night? If the pack gave him twenty-four hours to calm
down and return to them, they would only find his corpse. Maybe not even that
since he would die in this well, away from his new home. And that was the heart
of the matter, wasn't it? He had found a new home, had been invited and
accepted into it. These teenagers had done right by him. Had helped and
protected him and how had he repaid them? With ignorance and neglect. He had
even shouted at Danny, who had been nothing but kind to him.
Shivering, he remembered the scene from this morning and the jealous rage that
had made his blood boil. But who was he to be jealous of a guy ten years his
senior? Of course Danny would prefer the deputy to him. The guy most likely
knew what other man liked in bed. And he had been with them far longer than
Liam, from what the boy had gathered. Maybe it had been his first time in the
house, but definitely not the first time with Danny. Did the incubus love him?
Had Liam simply been subjected to a lovers quarrel? Had Danny claimed him
because he had had problems with Parrish?
No, Liam reminded himself, Danny had claimed him because Stiles had told him
to. It had not been the incubus' choice to enthral a mere boy. He simply had
made the best of his given orders. Was he angry at Liam for being with them?
No, he had been nice to him, supportive with his school-work. Danny had even
set up a computer for him, a state of the art machine to help him with his
school work. He had even installed a few games for Liam's entertainment. All
evidence pointed towards Danny liking him.
The same held true for Scott. He had told Liam that he was his first beta. That
he had never wanted to turn anybody but that he simply could not let him die.
Scott had saved Liam's life and had done everything to ease the transition from
the human world into the supernatural one. He had helped Liam to gain control
of his wolf, had let him roam their grounds so that the young wolf could enjoy
being outside during his first full moon. They had howled together and what a
joy that had been. No, Scott had really cared for him until Liam had messed
things up.
                                     ~ * ~
The sun was down and Liam felt the cold turning his limbs to ice. He had heard
the occasional conversation drifting down, but didn't have an inkling if
anybody was coming to his rescue. He was slipping down the wet stone he was
holding on to more often now. In the end he decided that nobody would be coming
for him. He had but one chance, to climb up again and hope to avoid the evil
witch who had drugged him in the first place. Maybe in the dark he would be
able to escape.
He tried several times, sliding down again and again until he managed to crawl
up with the last of his strength. He was already holding on by the edge of his
teeth, too tired, too cold and by now too weak to make it to the top. Yet he
knew that if he couldn't make it this time he would die at the bottom of this
well and he wanted at least to get the chance to apologize, with the moon that
connected them all shining down on him. It didn't even matter that they would
never hear him.
He heard fighting from above and could barely suppress a frightened whimper. He
was not strong enough to hold on for long but neither could he risk climbing
up, in case the people fighting were enemies.
He heard muffled shouts of pain and slowly darkness was creeping around the
edges of his vision. Maybe it was better that way. He would relieve his new
family of the burden he had been. They would be happier that way. It was
alright. They had given him a few months of happiness. Had even allowed him to
see his sister one last time. Marie was taken care off, that was everything
that mattered.
Sure in his knowledge that his family would be alright Liam slowly felt his
fingers slipping off the wet stone and closed his eyes in defeat.
All he could muster was a terrified whimper, when a strong hand closed around
his wrist, yanking him out of the well.
When he looked into Scott's concerned eyes, he thought himself dreaming,
because why would the Alpha come for him? But when the older teenager
affectionately touched his shoulder with so much concern in his eyes, Liam knew
that he had been a fool all along. Of course Scott would come for him. They all
would come for him no matter what he had done. Because family screwed up. But
that didn't mean that they didn't love you.
He didn't even try to suppress the tears that clouded his vision when Scott
pulled him into his arms, held him like he was afraid Liam would vanish the
next moment, assuring himself that his beta was safe. The relief Liam could
smell on his Alpha let him melt against the taller boy. No, he would never
leave Liam hanging, would never abandon him, because they were pack and pack
protected each other. Always.
When the young boy heard the commotion behind his back continue, he tried to
turn around, but Scott held him close, nuzzling into him whispering, "Don't
turn around. It will give you nightmares."
"What?" Liam fought against his impulse to see. He already tried to be better,
to heed his Alpha's warning, but curiosity got the better of him when Scott
revealed, "Danny's demon doesn't like you being captured and drugged. One of
your abductors, the woman got away. The man was not as fortunate."
Slowly Scott let Liam go, allowed him to turn around, ready to pull him back
when the boy showed any signs of distress.
But strangely, Liam didn't, though the picture was one straight out of hell. A
huge, black-winged figure toyed with a human who desperately tried to get away
from it. The man's face was distorted with mortal fear, when the monster
slashing at him with his razor-sharp claws, destroying the man's torso. Torn
between fear and awe that Danny would go so far down the deep-end for him, Liam
tried to break Scott's hold. "He will kill that guy. We have to stop him."
Keeping his hold on Liam strong, Scott shook his head. "Stiles will not like it
but I'm afraid there is nothing we can do. This jerk endangered one of his
thralls. Danny can't let that go. There are disadvantages to having a demon
inside of you. If I tried to stop him now, he would tear me apart."
"All because of me?" Liam asked in wonder, and when Scott only shrugged, the
boy fought to get to his feet, brushing off his Alpha's hold. "Maybe he will
tear you apart, but not me."
"Liam, I …," Scott started, trying to hold his beta back. "I don't think that
that's a good idea."
"Will the family be in trouble with a dead body and Danny's supernatural DNA
all over it?"
"Yes, of course we will. But we will manage. We always do."
"You don't have to." Liam decided.
He slowly approached the demon who clawed viciously at the human. Understanding
the sentiment, the boy wished to tear this man to pieces himself, Liam's first
concern had to be the safety of the pack, not his own petty desire for revenge.
And the safety of the pack meant for this human to stay alive and be handed
over to the authorities.
When he was only a couple of feet away, he started to call for the incubus.
"Danny, please, stop. He's not worth it."
Whipping around, nailing the teenager with a furious glare from black eyes, the
incubus snarled, his mouth full of razor-sharp teeth. "He hurt you!" But he
made no threatening move towards Liam and had stopped tearing the human apart.
So Liam dared to step closer.
"That's right, but I survived. Scott saved me and now I want to go home." Liam
was relieved to see how much his pleading affected the demon. Danny seemed torn
between ripping this human to shreds and giving his thrall what he asked for.
Clearly the demon was no threat to Liam, so the boy the last closed distance
between them. Ignoring the blood that was painting Danny's body and dripped
from his nails he stepped up to the taller teenager and tentatively put his
arms around his waist. Instantly he was hugged by two strong arms, enfolded in
the protective wings of the demon.
In a dark, unearthly voice, the incubus asked, "Are you hurt?"
Shaking his head, Liam remembered, "They injected me with something and I feel
weak, but I am not injured." Looking up he did his best to appear as helpless
as possible, something he had very little trouble with, after the day he had
had and asked again in a tiny voice, "Please, Danny, can we just go home?"
Liam knew that he had won when soft, human fingers, scratched his neck, pulled
him into a closer embrace, nudging him away from the well. Danny brought him to
his car, but instead of putting him in the backseat and claiming the wheel, he
climbed into the back himself, pulling Liam into his arms again, trusting that
Scott would take care of everything and get them home.
                                     ~ * ~
***** Consequences *****
Chapter Summary
     Danny strengthening the bond.
Chapter Notes
     For the faint of heart this chapter will contain violence against a
     child (Stiles dishes out the slap he has threatened Liam with over
     breakfast) and even statutory rape (since the law says that a fifteen
     year old can't consent to a sexual act). I try to have my tags
     reflect what happens in this story to prepare you my cherished
     readers as good as possible, but they do not indicate how the
     characters view the situation, only how I see it. Please tell me if I
     should add anything to the tags for this chapter so that I won't
     catch anyone off guard.
     But don't worry, at it's core this is a very nice chapter where Liam
     learns how much Stiles and Danny (and the rest of the pack) care
     about him and he's really happy and content in the end. So I am not
     sarcastic when I say: enjoy :).
Though he was dead tired, Liam couldn't succumb to sleep as easily as Danny.
The moment the older teenager relaxed against the soft leather, he lost
consciousness. Obviously the transformation and his rampage had taken a lot out
of him. Still when Liam tried to get out of the car again to help his Alpha,
Danny's arms constricted around his chest, pulling him closer against the
demon's warm body.
After everything the teenager had been through, he capitulated swiftly,
revelling in the comforting smell of his master and the pack. Combined with the
heat Danny's body was giving off, he had a hard time to stay awake. But Scott
was not with them and he could not rest peacefully as long as one of his two
guardians was not with him.
It took about half an hour for Scott to finally enter the car, turning around
in his seat to look at Liam. "That was a very brave thing you did out there.
Nobody but Stiles has ever dared to confront Danny when the demon is in
control."
"You said he was angry because of me." Liam shrugged the compliment off. "Who
but me had a chance of calming him down?"
"I don't know," Scott revealed with a smile. "I just know that Jordan was never
brave enough to try."
Upon hearing that name, Liam tried very hard to supress the flare of jealousy.
Still Scott noticed and told him, "I know that this coming from me is not that
comforting, but you still have to know, Liam, that the demon doesn't have
favourites. To him Jordan and you are equally important. Jordan is old enough
to enjoy the full range of Danny's abilities, but that does not mean that he
loves him more. Danny has merely tried to be careful with you and not bully you
into anything you don't want."
"Who says I don't want him?" Liam demanded, raising his chin challengingly.
Smiling, because this boy reminded him so very much of himself, Scott shook his
head. "You are fifteen, Liam. The law says that you can't even know what you
want when it comes to sex."
"And you all are such law-abiding citizens!" The teenager sneered.
Sighing tiredly, Scott revealed, "No, we are not, but that's beside the point.
You are young, you have your entire life ahead of you. Who says that you won't
find a girl and fall in love with? Or a boy for that matter. You had no say
about the circumstances that brought you to us, but we still want to give you a
chance for a normal childhood."
"I'm not a child anymore." Liam sullied, "And I am certainly not normal." He
added quietly, trying to cross his arms defensively over his chest, but
realized the futility of the gesture, because Danny, wrapped around him, was
blocking the motion.
"No, you are not. You are extraordinary, just like every other member of this
family." Scott conceded, "But you are still innocent. We don't want to take
that from you, because there is plenty of darkness in this world. Don't be
angry with us for trying to protect you from it."
"Darkness like people who want to whore me out? Like those who abduct me
because they want your territory? Like crazy ones, who inject me with something
that makes me weak?"
"Yes," Scott whispered, knuckles turning white because he was gripping the
steering wheel so hard. A moment later he felt Liam's hand on his shoulder,
soothing his agitation.
The boy's words were a mere whisper when he assured his Alpha, "You are doing a
pretty good job so far."
                                     ~ * ~
When they returned home, the others were already pacing the living room,
anxiously awaiting the return of the youngest member of their pack. Liam
entered somewhat reluctantly, and though he could smell the relief that he was
back unharmed, nobody dared to approach him.
Stiles face unreadable when he looked down at Liam. The leader of the family
nodded towards Scott and Danny before returning his undivided attention to the
boy. Liam wanted to speak up, to apologize for everything he had done wrong.
Things that had inevitably led to today's events. But his human Alpha's posture
made clear that it was not his turn to speak.
Slowly, deliberately, Stiles raised his hand and slapped Liam's face. It was
neither a very hard nor a vicious slap and the faint imprint of the hand
vanished the next moment. Still it was terribly humiliating to be slapped like
a little boy in front of the entire pack. Yet Liam held his ground, tears
formed in his eyes when he choked out, "I'm sorry. I am so sorry, I screwed
up."
Stiles voice was unemotional when he told the boy, "You will never, ever leave
this house without your earring, are we clear?"
"Yes, Sir." Liam's voice was nothing more than a whisper and tears of shame ran
over his cheeks. Everything that had happened, his suffering, his pain,
everybody looking for him, Danny losing it could have been avoided, if he had
remembered this one simple rule. It would never happen again, still he could
not look at Stiles.
At least not until Stiles exhaled audibly and pulled Liam into a tight hug. "We
were out of our minds. Don’t ever do that again, pup. Promise me!"
Clinging onto Stiles, crumbling the teenager's shirt between his fingers, Liam
pulled himself as close as possible, whispering into Stiles' chest. "I promise.
I promise I will remember. I will never leave this house without one. I
promise. Please, don't be angry anymore."
Simply sinking down to the floor, since Liam gave no indication that he would
let go in the immediate future, Stiles looked at Scott and Danny who
immediately came closer, hugging Liam from behind, while Stiles petted the
boy's wet hair. "I know Liam. It's alright. I was never angry with you, we all
were just so scared. Don't do it again and everything is going to be alright
from now on."
Nodding emphatically, Liam crawled into Stiles lap, needing the strength and
comfort of his Alpha with Scott and Danny pressed into him from behind. Nobody
knew or cared how long they sat there. The rest of the pack had taken places on
various couches and love-chairs after touching him, assuring themselves that he
was alright.
That night Scott, Danny, Stiles and Liam slept in the living-room together,
huddled up in a massive pile of bodies because nobody could bear to be away
from the others. In the morning Liam would apologize to Danny as well. The
teenager had done right by him, right from the beginning and he didn't deserve
a thrall who didn't know his place. He was willing to go all demon on Liam's
behalf and tear a man apart, so he did care. What more could Liam want?
                                     ~ * ~
It was a school-day the next day and despite Stiles offering to call the school
so that Liam could stay at home, the young teenager had decided that he would
no longer use shortcuts or allow himself any leniency. His new family were good
people who cared about him, wanted what was best for him, so the least he could
do was make an effort on his own behalf. And that meant paying attention in
class and improve his social interaction at school. Without bolstering, without
showing off, just by being there and behaving like the normal, average American
teenager.
When he returned home after training he packed his things away like Stiles had
asked him to repeatedly, earning an approving smile from the Don of the family,
before seeing to his homework. Though he had a perfect room, he preferred to do
his studying in the living room right after dinner. Scott had explained to him
that his wolf felt comforted by the proximity of the pack. Every wolf felt
better when all of his pack members were accounted for. That and Lydia and
Stiles were usually around to help if he had any questions was another plus.
They all lingered on the sofas for an update of national and international
news. When Liam joined them, he staggered in surprise when Ethan pulled him
onto his lap, wrapping his arms around the teenager. At the beginning Liam had
fought this gesture, not wanting to sit in anyone's lap because he wasn't a
little child any more. But after a little while he had realized that his wolf
and the one claiming him were comforted by the proximity. So he had let go of
his aversion and simply allowed whoever reached for him to hold him for a
little while, before he could slid down at the side, taking his own place on
the couch.
Ethan however was a first, but when Danny took the place next to his boyfriend,
Liam smiled in understanding, relaxing into the wolf's arms. Danny was cuddling
with the both of them, laying his head in Liam's lap, wrapping his arms around
the young teenager's legs while watching the news, occasionally throwing
popcorn at the screen to indicate his disapproval. Stiles told him sternly that
he would pick them up afterwards because otherwise Renata would have their
heads, Danny simply smiled and tried to pull the bowl out of Liam's reach when
the boy tried to take it from him.
In the end Liam, not being confined between the backrest of the couch and the
legs of another, managed to wrestle the bowl of popcorn from Danny and shared
his prize with Ethan. When it was empty he rose to make another, but reclaimed
to his former position upon his return. All in all it was a perfect evening and
the young boy closed his eyes savouring the feeling of belonging.
When he was about to start his evening routine, he was surprised to find Danny
knocking at his door. Liam had learned that – despite living together like a
bunch of wolves, literally – everybody in the house did his best to respect the
other inhabitants' privacy. You couldn't help hearing and smelling certain
things. But no room was ever entered uninvited, outside of an emergency. So
finding Danny, wearing nothing but long, black, shimmering pyjama bottoms that
hung low on his hips, came as a surprise. The boy's throat went dry when he
heard Danny asking seductively, "Ready to go to bed?"
"No, I just …," he honestly had troubles speaking around his constricting
throat. "I was about to take a shower."
Entering the room, Danny looked down at him with unconcealed want, whispering,
"Would you allow me to join you?"
"I … I don't understand …," Liam stated helplessly, looking into the empty
corridor to find out if someone was pulling his leg.
But he closed his eyes and leaned into the caress, when Danny cupped his cheek
with his big, warm hand, pulling the young teenager closer. "I am here to
apologize, Liam."
When the boy shook his head helplessly, because this situation didn't make any
sense, Danny explained. "Your jealousy yesterday, everything that happened as a
consequence was my fault."
When Liam shook his head empathically, honestly how could Danny, who had been
nothing but kind to him, ever think that any of Liam's behaviour was his
mistake? But the incubus only brushed his thumb over the boys bottom lip,
silencing him.
"Yes it was, little one. You were jealous because you saw Ethan and me with
Jordan. You thought me favouring one thrall over the other but nothing could be
further from the truth." With a deep sigh, Danny pulled Liam to the recliner
that sat in a corner of his room, kneeling down in front of him. "You are
young, so very young and I don't want to destroy your life over what I was
forced to do, namely making you my thrall. I want you to go out there, find
someone you like, share experiences with them every normal teenager should
have. I don't want to spoil these things for you."
"What if I don't want …," Liam started helplessly, but in the end had to leave
the sentence unfinished, because he was not even sure what he wanted. Did he
want Danny to fuck him? Did he want his first time to be with a demon who had
forced himself on him in the first place, no matter how considerate he was now?
A helpless whine escaped him because this situation was all twisted and tore
him apart.
"Shhhh," Danny soothed him, caressing his neck. "It's alright, Liam. There are
other things you can do before it comes to penetrative sex that will assure you
that I don't pick favourites."
"What do you mean?" the young teenager asked hesitantly, because on the one
hand he knew that he didn't want the incubus to claim him. But on the other
hand every instinct in his body screamed that he wanted to be close to the
other. That he wanted to touch him, maybe even kiss him, taste him again and
make him smell like him so that he had his own claim on the older boy.
Smiling a little mischievously, Danny repeated his initial question, "What
about you let me join you in the shower? I am sure I can make it worth your
while."
The innuendo was so blunt that Liam forgot his nervousness for a moment and
laughed out loud. When Danny pulled back a little, allowing the boy to stand
up, Liam reached for his hand. He had even gotten his own bathroom, completely
with huge walk-in-shower and gigantic mirror over the washbasin. Still the
teenager was nervous when he started to shed his clothes, operating the tabs to
start the shower. He was reluctant to turn around when naked. Danny's body was
like that of a Greek god and he was just … well, him, small, gangly and not
overly muscular.
He shivered when he heard Danny's silk pyjama pants slide to the floor and
flinched for a moment, when the taller boy reached for his shoulders to guide
him. Determined, Liam looked at the tiled wall, despite leaning in to Danny's
caress until the incubus leaned down, whispering into his ear, "Tell me if I am
doing anything you don't like."
Liam could only nod helplessly because the hot water, the light Danny had
reduced to near nothing to make this easier for him, the steam and Danny's soft
hands on his back were intoxicating. His mind was clouded want and desire. And
all the other boy did was reach for Liam's products, working up lather from the
shampoo, gently washing the younger boy's hair. Danny was not touching him any
more than was necessary and surely not in a sexual context but Liam felt his
body stir. Embarrassed, he covered his dick with his hands, flushing red when
Danny chuckled behind him. Of course the incubus would laugh. Liam remembered
their first, their only encounter far too clearly. Danny was nothing if not
well endowed.
His breath caught in his throat, when Danny whispered into his ear, "Don't hide
from me, little one. Let me see your beautiful body. I am starving for it."
"You really think," Liam started, slowly turning around, but when he looked up,
meeting Danny's eyes the question stuck in his throat. The older teenager's
eyes were so full of longing and need that Liam had to press his hand against
his shaft not to come on the spot. Never had he thought it possible for someone
to look at him that way, like he was the most desirable person on the entire
planet. That he was all the other wanted, especially if the other was as good
looking as the sex-demon in front of him.
It was Danny's turn now to swallow around a tightening throat, downright
begging his young thrall, "Touch yourself. Please. I want to see you. I can't
do it myself, so you have to do it for me. Show me what makes you feel good."
The entire situation was unreal, a dream maybe? It had to be because there was
literally now way for someone like Danny to beg him to masturbate. Still, when
the demon reached for the shower-gel, rubbing it between his fingers, gently
putting his hands on Liam's shoulders, the wolf could feel the shivering that
wretched the incubus body transmitted though the touch. Danny really wanted
him, wanted to see him like this and nowhere in the open desire was the
slightest insincerity. The incubus looked at his thrall as if he was the
greatest treasure on the planet and that gave Liam the confidence to follow his
request.
Touching oneself was easy, or so the boy had thought. You knew yourself, knew
what felt good and simply did it, right?
Wrong! Oh how very wrong Liam had been when believing this urban legend. Once
he started, Danny started to whisper suggestions while caressing the boy's
body, carefully avoiding his groin area. Liam slowed down, worked himself
faster, twisted his hand, brushed over the tip, and followed every demand,
while the incubus sank to his knees, looking up at him in reverence.
The young boy was shaking with desire, still heeding the whispered orders,
keeping himself from tumbling over the edge because that was not what Danny had
told him to do. His hair was wet, plastered to his head and his body was
flushed with desire, not sweaty for the sole reason that a steady stream of
water was washing away every fluid he produced.
Danny's shaking fingers were brushing up his calves, his thighs, his thumbs
were caressing Liam's hip-bones, holding the boy steady when he finally
demanded hoarsely, "Make yourself cum."
A shout muffled by clenched teeth accompanied Liam's orgasm when he twisted his
hand one last time, feeling rope after rope of cum shooting over his own belly.
Only Danny's strong hands were keeping him upright, out of the spray, back
against the wall, because Liam was sure that he would have sunken to the floor
without support.
When he tried to brush the seed from his wet body, he felt a low growl. Black
eyes looked up at him. "Let me clean you." The incubus demanded, still he held
back, waited for Liam's permission to touch, to taste what he so obviously
desired.
Feeling empowered by what had just happened, Liam brushed his hands through
Danny's wet hair, angling up his head when daring to order, "Only if you show
me what makes you feel good."
In an instant Danny's hand flew to his own rock-hard cock that had ached ever
since his thrall had started touching himself. He downright whimpered, when
Liam didn't let go of his hair, demanding quietly, "Slower." Slowly he
relented, allowing the incubus to lick away the proof of his own desire.
When Danny finally spilled over his own hand, Liam would have been close to
coming again, had he not been so drained from his orgasm a few minutes ago.
Still he pulled the incubus' hand up, licking away the remaining seed,
savouring a taste he had longed for ever since the night of their bonding.
Liam sobered when they emerged from the shower, reaching for towels to dry
themselves. He enjoyed the older teenager rubbing his hair, combing through it.
But Liam stiffened when they left the bathroom. Well aware that now that Danny
had gotten what he had wanted, what he was entitled to receive, the older
teenager would leave to join his boyfriend.
So the young teenager was pleasantly surprised, when Danny put on his pyjama
pants, and claimed a spot in Liam's bed, opening his arms for his thrall.
Barely keeping himself from pouncing at the bed like an overeager puppy, Liam
swiftly chose a clean boxer-short for the night, before crawling into the
demon's arms.
"Thank you, for allowing me to share this with you." Danny whispered, nuzzling
Liam's hair who lay on his chest.
"I think it is I who should be thanking you," Liam snickered, amused by the
twisted words of the incubus. Still, when Danny nudged his chin so that he
could meet the younger teenager's eyes, he was surprised to see nothing but
sincerity.
"No, Liam, it really is the way I say it. You are mine and I want you, every
hour of every day. But it will always be you who will decide of how much
contact you will allow. You are not my victim," Danny clarified, "I will never
enchant you with my magic, make you pliant to my needs. You are my thrall, the
most precious thing I have and all I want for you is to be happy."
"So you feel the effect of our bond as much as I do?" Liam asked, trying to
make sense from the information he was given.
"Exactly," Danny confirmed, "But with me being an incubus, dependant on the
sexual energy of those around me, it is a hundred times worse. Stiles and you
are the only two people who know about this. It is part of being an incubus. I
am dependant on those bound to me. Not even Jordan knows because we don't know
what he is until now, so I can't be sure that I can trust him."
"But if you feel this desire so much stronger, how do you manage to get through
the day?" Liam inquired, unable to imagine the longing he felt for the demon
increased by so much. He would not even be able to summon a conscious thought,
let alone function as good as Danny.
"With Stiles' help," the incubus revealed, "And a lot of practise."
After turning these information over in his head for a while, Liam whispered,
as to not wake the incubus should he already be asleep, "Danny?"
"Yes, Liam?"
"I … I think I love you."
"What?" Danny tried to raise to his elbows to get a better look at Liam, but
the boy held him on the bed, stronger than him as long as Danny didn't summon
demonic energy. After a heartbeat he gave up and relaxed against the cushions.
Only then did Liam continue.
"I think I love you, like I love Scott because he is my Alpha and I … I don't
want you to feel uncomfortable on my behalf so …" taking a deep breath, Liam
closed his eyes before he continued, "So when you need me, something like this
or … more, tell me. I am glad that you don't want to force me into anything I
might regret in the light of day but … but tell me what you want and I will try
to give it to you."
Smiling down at his thrall adoringly, because though the bond did a lot for
master and bondsmen: need, desire and passion; love was never part of it. That
Liam offered himself so freely made Danny incredibly proud. Stiles had made the
right decision when saving him. This teenager had the potential to grow into an
extraordinary man. One they could all be proud of.
Accepting the offer with an affectionate caress, Danny whispered, "I promise.
We will find a way to make this work. Thank you, little one."
"You're welcome," the teenager answered with a content smile, finally closing
his eyes, succumbing to sleep.
                                     ~ * ~
***** Wolf-pet *****
Chapter Summary
     In this case, the pet in question is Peter.
Chapter Notes
     I know that I have had you waiting for quite a while for this one,
     but I promise the chapters will be coming more regularly from now on.
     Christmas was just hectic. But I got awesome presents, most of all
     two betareaders who stayed with me, even over the holidays so now we
     have another chapter ready for you.
     Thank you Wecantgiggleatacrimescene and Memprime, your support means
     the world to me. Lots of hugs and cookies and eggnogs. (It's holiday-
     season after all.)
For a week everything was fine. They all were a little, alright a lot, on edge
because of what had happened to Liam. Danny was looking into everything
connected to the guy he had nearly torn to pieces but found very little. The
woman who had drugged their youngest pack-member remained elusive, because Liam
could not remember what she had looked like due to the bad lighting. Danny and
Scott hadn't seen her either, because she had fled the scene when hearing their
approach.
Aiden and Peter, still in his wolf form, were glued to Lydia's side when they
were out. Derek and Isaac barely let Stiles out of their sight. They all waited
for the other shoe to drop, but nothing happened.
When the second week passed uneventfully, the wolves relaxed slightly. Aiden
joined Scott again when the Alpha was caring for their business associates and
Liam remained tidy and obedient to a fault.  Things slowly went back to normal.
Scott was happy that the young boy now heeded Stiles's rules, but worried a
little about him becoming too submissive. Wolves in their pack needed spine and
Liam had been traumatized. Though Danny would never talk about it, the Alpha
knew their incubus to sleep in Liam's bedroom more often than not these days to
sooth the teenager's nightmares.
So Scott was relieved to be called to Beacon Hill's high school on Thursday
afternoon, it was the third week after the abduction, to pick Liam up from
detention. With a straight face he listened to the director complaining about
Liam's participation in a prank-war between the lacrosse team and the swim-
team. Apparently the two parties were trying to outdo themselves in causing
havoc around the high school. The swim-team had been champion so far, because
they had dismantled the coach's car and carried it to the top of the gym where
they had put it together again. They had been caught before they had been
finished, a car on a rooftop did draw attention to itself, but still they had
been celebrated that day.
Liam and his friends from the lacrosse team had been sneakier. They had used
the day of a swimming contest to enter the coach's office and had glued his
desk and his chair upside down to the ceiling. They had even bonded the
computer, the desk-pad and several documents to the surface as well, though the
paper had been held by a clear plastic wrap on top because – Liam defended
himself – they had agreed that documents were nothing to be messed with. The
glue they had used would come off easily if it was warmed up with a heat-gun.
So there was no real damage done.
And though Scott was well aware that Liam could smell his amusement, he put on
a serious face and confirmed that, of course Liam would help with the clean-up
and that the Stilinski-family would pay for the tools and colour to sand down
the coaches desk and paint it anew. So the principal was placated, at least
until Scott ushered Liam out of the office and high-fived him, in clear view of
the principal's office.
Liam was relieved when Scott congratulated him on the brilliant prank. Still
his Alpha looked at him a little reprehensively when he discovered that Liam
had been the one to lift the desk for it to be glued to the ceiling.
Nevertheless, he conceded that most likely nobody thought twice about the
unusual amount of strength the teenager had displayed, too wrapped up in their
successful prank. The student enjoyed his fifteen minutes of fame that evening
when he was encouraged to tell and retell how he and his team-mates had managed
to pull this off during a normal school-day and together they decided to buy a
nice, deep pink to repaint the desk. They could always blame it on the store
having given them the wrong colour.
                                     ~ * ~
After three weeks, Aiden felt comfortable enough to leave Lydia in Peter's
capable hands – or paws – again, resuming his 'normal' duties. Though Lydia
invited Derek to join her on occasion, she mostly worked alone with Peter as
her only protection. Peter had felt pretty angry about being forced into his
wolf-form permanently. He even contemplated turning back during the night, just
to prove that he could and that these teenagers were not his owners. Still,
whenever he tapped down the stairwell into the living room, pondering how to
entertain himself in his human body, he realized that nothing would hold his
interest for an extended amount of time. In the end he always returned
upstairs, curling up on the bed, lonely and miserable. He would never admit it,
but even after such a short time, he felt the need to stay in the good graces
of these kids.
Talia would laugh about him, he pondered when walking along the sidewalk at
Lydia's heel. Rightfully so, since he had always hated to play the role of the
obedient pet. He had fought his sister every mile of their way to the top after
the fire, trying to establish his own position, but never ready to take her on.
Not without any kind of support. Well, the support had come to him in the end.
The teenagers he had turned and abandoned in the first place had chosen him,
even if he had not been able to choose them. They had even growled at his own
sister when she had tried to keep him from joining them. It was hard for Peter
to forget New Year's Eve, the day when he had chosen a new family. All he had
to do now was not mess it up and no matter how humiliating the gesture, right
now that meant walking on four legs.
When he growled at another pedestrian for walking into Lydia rudely, he had
overlooked the officer of the law, who had stood close by. Fate was apparently
not on their side, because the man turned out to be the Sheriff of their
beautiful town. He was currently guiding a tow truck to remove a car that was
parked illegally in front of one of the local doctors. The man smelled like
Chinese food from the shop around the corner, and of far too much glee, when he
intercepted Lydia's path.
"Ma’am," he addressed her with far too much contempt in his voice for Peter's
liking. "Are you aware that your dog should walk on a leash with a muzzle? And
his collar is missing his identification plate. I hope for your sake, that you
have it on you and that his papers are in order. Otherwise I would have to
bring you in to lecture you on how to be a responsible dog-owner and I am sure
you have better things to do with your time."
What the hell? Peter felt his hackles rising. This Sheriff had been after the
Stilinski family ever since his election, trying to proof himself capable of
what his successor had never been able to do: arrest the official head of the
crime-family and all of his associates. The truth was, as Peter had learned
from a gleeful Aiden, that crime rate has gone up fifteen percent ever since
this jerk was in office. The former Sheriff had been on the payroll of the
Stilinski family (unofficially of course). They had given him a heads up when a
deal of a rivalling family was going down in their territory. In exchange he
had kept the FBI away from their doorstep. Crime had been at an all-time low, a
win-win situation for all of them.
But this new guy was desperate to prove himself and clearly not smart about it,
if he didn't notice that he was out of his league when dealing with one Lydia
Martin. Peter was worried how she would argue herself out of showing an ID
Peter definitely did not have because he was not an animal. She pulled the rug
from under him, when offering a card and a few papers the size of passports, to
the Sheriff.
She was smiling, presenting herself sweet and compliant when gesturing towards
the papers. "As you can see, he got his latest dog-tag at the end of the last
month and all of his taxes are paid, as stated in his identification card. He
is registered as a guard dog and this card identifies me as his owner, updates
license and all."
Peter had a hard time keeping from wagging his tail when he smelled the
frustration of the Sheriff and heard him clenching his teeth. He even stepped a
little closer to Lydia, as if to prove her correct, wondering where she had
conjured these papers from. Before the Sheriff could find a reason to complain,
the girl continued, "And of course he has no leash or muzzle. He would be of
little use to me otherwise. As you are very well aware, I have a dislike of
weapons and never carry any. But as a business consultant I sometimes have to
deal with unhappy customers. So I am definitely in need of protection. Anyway,
Peter heeds my commands so there really is no use for any form of confinement."
"Oh really," the Sheriff asked with a nasty grin. "Sit!"
Peter looked up at Lydia and the young woman looked down at him exasperatedly.
Both were clearly short of rolling their eyes. Closing in on them, the Sheriff
reached for his baton. "Clearly, Miss Martin, your dog is not as obedient as
you try to make me believe. So please step away from him. I saw him nearly
attacking a harmless pedestrian so I will be forced to bring him in."
This situation was bordering on getting out of hand, so Peter claimed a
position in front of Lydia, shielding her from this stupid man. He was
concerned what would happen if the Sheriff really tried to claim him, but
before anything of the likes could happen, Lydia stated icily. "This
conversation actually makes me worried for the people in this town. I just
assured you that Peter heeds my commands. Mine, not anybody else's. And if you
try to claim my property without reason, I have no qualms about letting him
defend himself against such an uncourtly assault. But to ease your conscience,
Sheriff, and to prove that the nice people of this town have nothing to fear:
Peter, sit."
The wolf obeyed without second thought and sat at Lydia's feet. He looked up at
the Sheriff as if to colour him stupid. It was clearly working because though
the man gritted his teeth once more when handing back the documents and allowed
Lydia to pass. Making their point, Peter remained seated in front of the
Sheriff until Lydia whistled for him. He had smelled the human's frustration
and had enjoyed it far too much.
Catching up with her he absolutely, positively did not wag his tail, when he
heard her saying, "Gloating is a very unattractive feature on a canine." And
with this simple words a heavy weight that had sat in his stomach ever since
Club Salvatore eased a little. Sure, nobody had hurt him, had mocked him, or
even addressed his forced transformation. But neither had a single member of
the pack spoken to him beyond what had been necessary. And while Lydia had
petted him on occasion, namely whenever he had crouched closer, her movements
had been superficial, like she wasn't even thinking of him during these
caresses. The dismissiveness of the gesture had hurt Peter more than his wolf-
skin ever could and more than once had he cursed himself for his lack of
restraint that night.
Lydia's behaviour had isolated and punished him much more effectively than
Talia had ever come up with. This girl didn't need to slash him open to bleed
him dry. All she and the pack had to do was ignore him. It was like he wasn't
even part of their family any longer, as if he was really only a pet and not
even a cherished one. And how horrible that thought had been, to realize that
things had been exactly like with the Hale-pack. Despite them being wolves,
nobody had cared for showing affection in his family. They had considered it a
weakness and had not touched each other beyond what had been necessary. Sure,
for wolves touch was needed, but the Stilinski-McCall pack was affectionate
from sunrise to sundown and beyond and Peter had been excluded from that ever
since hurting Lydia.
But the gentle teasing proved that he was slowly working his way up into her
good graces again, and he could only hope that whatever he was doing, he could
keep it up.
                                     ~ * ~
At the shopping mall, where Lydia headed directly to the food court – a very
special kind of torture for Peter who received leftovers that were mostly stale
– she sighed deeply when she saw her personal 'friend' again. One of the
security guards of the mall had taken a special interest in Lydia and when
Peter had accompanied her the first time this year, she had ordered him to – ”
~ do whatever is necessary to keep this jerk away from me ~ ”.
One time, when the guy had bothered her so much that she had been unable to get
any work done, she had even talked to the manager. Yet since the guard had a
flawless reputation, and was always polite to every other customer, the manager
had only given him a warning not to overdo it. He had left her alone the next
time she had tried to work there, but had bothered her again after that. Peter
had claimed a place by Lydia's thigh, growling at him whenever he had come
close. It had worked that day, but apparently that guy was unable to comprehend
that he was unwelcome.
Still, when the girl set up her equipment after getting herself a salad (at
least she didn't make Peter suffer by eating meat) the guy kept his distance.
When Peter got bored after an hour he woofed quietly, turning towards the exit.
Surely, running around the block wouldn't cause any trouble. Lydia made an
absent minded gesture, allowing him to go before focusing on her numbers again.
The air was crisp and cold but Peter relished the chance to stretch his legs.
The full moon was barely a week away and after being transformed for so long,
he felt the pull even more than usually. When he returned to the mall after
about twenty minutes, he realized that the guard had approached Lydia anew and
though Peter as well aware that the girl was smart enough to defend herself, he
was also aware, that she didn't want to draw any attention to herself because
she really liked to work in the mall. Too close scrutiny would make that hard
for her. Yet Peter saw that this jerk was working up the courage to go a step
further than flirting today. His body language showed his determination and
even from a distance the werewolf could smell his arousal.
Before he could think it through, Peter pulled back into one of the janitor's
closets, reaching for the first items of clothing within reach. If he couldn't
discourage this fool with a growl he would have to spell it out for him. With
nothing but too big trousers and a shirt that reached the middle of his thighs,
he made it to their table just in time to catch the man's hand in a vice-grip
the second he tried to touch Lydia. He didn't remember dressing, nor crossing
the food-court. He could only hope that he hadn't drawn too much attention to
himself. After a moment's hesitation however, he realized that was a vain hope,
since slamming the guy into the table in front of Lydia's laptop, his arm
twisted painfully behind his back drew a lot of attention from the other
customers.
He leaned down, holding this bastard down with his entire body-weight, hissing
into his ear, "I think my mistress has made it very clear that she doesn't want
to have anything to do with you. If you approach her again, I will rip out your
spine and break it in half." To emphasize the thread, Peter twisted the man's
arm a fraction more, before letting him go. The guy was taller than him, but
Peter's expression was murderous when he asked, "Am I understood?"
Gaping, the man could only nod and dashed towards the exit. For Peter there was
nothing left but to sink into the chair facing Lydia, when his mind caught up
with his instincts. Lydia was ignoring him and not even her scent gave the
werewolf any indication if she was pleased, displeased or indifferent to him
shifting without permission. The man did not lock down his muscles to keep
himself from showing any signs of anxiety at the conviction that he had finally
blown it. Lydia could very well rise in two hours and tell him to sod off,
because he had been unable to follow even the simplest of orders.
Would the pack ask him about what had happened? Would Stiles inquire about the
reason for his unpermitted shift? Or would he throw Peter out as easily as he
had welcomed him into their home? Would Lydia even take him home with her for a
final confrontation? They had used her gorgeous little sports-car, with him on
the passenger's seat with an improved belt-system to keep a wolf safe. What if
she just left, not looking back? Where would he go from her? He knew that he
could never return to his sister. He would never hear the end from Talia, and
honestly, returning to the place of the fire held little appeal to him. Would
he travel a while, looking for another pack? He was well aware, that as an
omega it would be hard to find a new pack, especially with his abrasive
personality.
Lost in the tailspin of his own thoughts, he did not flinch, because werewolves
didn't do that, when Lydia pushed her credit card towards him. Absentmindedly,
as if unaware of his hidden anguish, something Peter didn't even believe for a
second, she said, "I will not sit here with you wearing these clothes. Go and
dress properly." Exasperated, she looked at him, "And for heaven's sake get
some shoes."
She didn't address the shifting, did not mention him calling her 'mistress'.
Obviously she wasn't planning on throwing him to the wolves either –
figuratively speaking. No, she worried about his sense of style, as if that was
the only matter at hand, before returning to her numbers.
Half an hour later, Peter reclaimed his seat, having cleaned himself in one of
the bathrooms before entering the boutique where they bought all of their
suits, only to be ushered towards the backroom, being outfitted in less than
five minutes with dark jeans and some silky underwear. Finding the right shirt
and jacket had taken a little more time for the sales woman and the shoes had
taken the longest. Either because the sales woman was not happy with the
ensemble or Peter with the comfort of the loafers she brought from the store
next door. Yet in the end he felt considerably better, more like himself. He
was touching his chest unconsciously, trying to rub away the lead-weight that
had lessened but not vanished entirely with Lydia's easy acceptance of him
wearing his human skin again.
                                     ~ * ~
When he returned the card, Lydia offered some cash and prompted him, "Get some
food. We will leave in an hour. It's too windy for the park so we will go to
one of our safe houses."
Rising obediently, he hesitated when Lydia called him back and beckoned him
closer as if wanting to share a secret. When he leaned down towards her,
offering his ear, the girl simply turned and kissed him lightly on the cheek,
dispelling the last weight from his chest.
Nearly sagging, Peter gripped the edge of the table and the edge of her chair
to hold himself upright, burying his face in Lydia's neck where he know the
wound to be. With a nearly inaudible whine he nuzzled into it, inhaling the
girl's scent deeply into his lungs. He had felt so guilty every time he had
seen her hiding the bite under makeup, or flinching when she had wrapped a
scarf around her neck. But not once had he been able to express his feelings.
Grateful that he finally had the chance, he mumbled into her neck, "I am so
sorry for hurting you."
Allowing these affections, Lydia cupped the back of Peter's head, holding him
close, tenderly caressing his neck. She was well aware of the torture she had
sentenced him too, and she had done it entirely on purpose. His behaviour had
been out of line. But now he had proven that he knew how to make use of his
human body without doing harm, even with his instincts screaming at him to
resort to violence. He had learned his lesson, or so Lydia hoped, because
Stiles surely would not let him off that easy the next time Peter hurt a member
of the pack.
                                     ~ * ~
***** Magic *****
Chapter Summary
     We stay with the current crisis, namely Peter losing control over his
     instincts, a little longer. Because something similar can NEVER
     happen again. The only question is how to achieve that.
Chapter Notes
     Since you have all waited so patiently for the last chapter, I wanted
     to give you another one just before the year ends. This story will be
     coming to an end before spring. We have still several chapters to go,
     but my next project is already at the back of my mind. Still, I want
     to make this good for you and bring this story to the end it
     deserves. I hope it will be worthy of your time until the very last
     sentence and I am glad that so many of you find as much joy in
     reading it as I find in writing it.
     Have a great New Years Eve and my best wishes for all of you. My the
     next year be the best of your life!
The afternoon passed in silence and when they returned home, Scott just
grinned, clearly relieved to see Peter human again. The Alpha nuzzled into
Lydia's neck in gratitude, making the girl laugh. Erica and Boyd were home for
dinner, and while Erica just hugged him briefly and Boyd only touched his
shoulder, the feeling of comfort Peter drew from their proximity nearly made
him sway. Aiden and Ethan acted very much the same, simply running their hands
over his chest and back when they passed him by.
When Danny entered the kitchen where Mrs. McCall was currently preparing
dinner, the pack always gravitated towards her naturally since she was like a
substitute mother for all of them, Isaac and Stiles were right behind him. The
incubus stalked towards Peter, and though the werewolf's instinct was to
retreat, he held his ground. There was no love lost between him and Danny since
their first clash. The incubus had never given him permission to touch, and
Peter hadn't risked trying. He was used to riling people up, but even he
understood strict boundaries and respected them when a terrifying demon was in
the game. Now the incubus reached for his hand, stopped short of lacing their
fingers and looked at Peter. The werewolf gazed into warm, brown eyes and
closed the last distance, inhaling deeply when Danny kissed his cheek.
Isaac was a little more tactile than the rest. The life of every teenager in
this house had improved after receiving the bite. Mostly because Stiles and
Scott had taken them under their wing. Though that had not been Peter's doing,
they all felt grateful for the transformation he had brought them. But the
curly-haired boy had gained the most. He wrapped his arm around the alpha,
burying his face in the older man's neck, until Peter hugged him close. Allison
just smiled and gently touched his arm before pulling Isaac into an embrace
between her and Scott, the moment Isaac let go of Peter. Stiles was the last
one standing, looking at the wolf one who had turned nearly his entire pack,
ordering quietly, "Peter, a word please."
Unsure where this was going – Stiles had to forgive him when Lydia was okay
with him, right? – Peter joined the head of the family, entering the one room
that had been forbidden for him ever since coming here. He hesitated at the
door, only entered when Stiles gestured him to do so from his position by the
window. Staying closer to the door than to the boy, Peter looked at Stiles,
aware of how silly it was to fear a mere human. His breath caught in his throat
when Stiles turned his head from looking at their garden and looked him
straight in the eyes.
Blue-grey eyes should have met brown ones with a lace of honey, yet instead
flaming golden eyes stared back at him. Peter's breath caught in his throat
when he realized the meaning of this. Stiles' eyes indicated that he was more
than a werewolf; more powerful and far more dangerous. The werewolf could not
stop the whine in his throat when the Don of the Stilinski family looked at
him. Stiles didn't even do anything, he just looked at Peter with single-minded
focus and that was nearly enough to send Peter to his knees.
His distress however had summoned his Alpha and after a perceived eternity
under Stiles gaze, Scott stepped in front of him, breaking the connection. The
teenager's words were soft but not afraid – shouldn't he be afraid when
confronted with so much power – gently pressing, "Is this really necessary?
Lydia forgave him, you know that, Stiles. Please, don't hurt him further."
Peter nearly shivered, instinctively seeking refuge behind his Alpha when he
heard the all-encompassing words of Stiles welling up in his mind, "It is, and
you know it. There is but one second chance with us, Scott. I know how much you
all care for him but were he anybody else I would have killed him for what he
had done to Lydia. He's alive. For you, and Isaac, for Erica and Boyd, but you
have to step aside now and let me deal with this. There is no other way."
In a world where strength and determination were the measurements everybody was
judged by, Peter watched the two leaders of this family facing each other and
couldn't suppress a shiver when Scott stepped aside. For the first time the
werewolf realized how Stiles Stilinski was able to keep the position of a
crime-lord even at his young age. That he had to be the one to make the hard
choices, because Scott McCall might be a true Alpha, but his heart was too pure
to do what was necessary to survive in the world they were living in. The
werewolf Alpha was the heart of this family while the human Alpha was the head
of it. Together they were an unstoppable force and Peter now had nobody to
defend him any longer, because they were face to face once again.
Considering himself alone, the werewolf was surprised to feel a warm and steady
hand on his back. Not daring to turn around he took a breath and realized that
Scott had not left him as he had assumed. His Alpha had just stopped defending
him against – as Peter had to give Stiles – a justified intervention. Scott had
his back and once again Peter felt humbled by the knowledge that somebody was
willing to support him, despite knowing that he had done wrong.
He barely kept in a shiver when Stiles spoke up again. "Peter." Returning his
attention to the head of the family, the werewolf once again swayed at his feet
at the power Stiles was extruding. His eyes were burning a blinding gold and
though nothing happened the wolf could feel the power building around him.
Scott had to feel it as well, but the heart rate of his Alpha did not even
elevate. Still, the longer he stood there, the thicker the air in the room
became and the harder it was for him to draw a deep breath. When he felt like
breaking down to his knees he forced out a desperate, "What?"
The predatory smile Stiles showed him – did humans really have that many teeth
– was unnerving but nothing compared to the words that seem to register only in
his mind. "If any pack-member comes to harm by your hand, and I won't care if
it happens by accident or not, I will destroy you. Not shoot you or beat you or
tear you apart. I will destroy you and I will relish watching you shatter."
No longer able to keep himself from trembling, Peter wrapped his arms around
his chest as if holding himself together. How he was still standing was beyond
him, maybe Scott's silent support was helping, but right now he felt like
standing in the eye of the storm, seconds away from being hit by its force.
But nothing happened until Stiles enforced his command with a powerful, "Do you
understand?" That pulled the rug from beneath Peter's feet, sending him
crashing to the floor, holding his head together with both hands because the
strength that had pushed the question into his mind was overwhelming.
He was shouting because he couldn't not even hear himself thinking over his own
thundering heartbeat, "Yes, yes I understand! Please, stop it. I am sorry!
PLEASE!"
He barely had time to lift his head in time to see Stiles blink once, his eyes
going from blazing gold to warm brown before Peter fled the office.
                                     ~ * ~
When the door slammed shut behind him, Scott folded his arms over his chest,
looking at his best friend scolding. "Was that really necessary?"
Sagging against the window – doing magic always took a lot out of him, at least
if he could not draw energy from the pack or the earth under him – Stiles
drooping his head, answering softly, "You know it was, Scott. Peter literally
was raised by a pack of wolves. The rules in the Hale-pack are that of the wild
so Peter's wolf instinctively respects only one thing: power."
"Peter is not a wolf! He is a sentient human being," Scott contradicted Stiles.
"But his sentient human side was not attempting to use Lydia's neck as a chew-
bone. That was an entirely instinctual response to what happened with the
vampires. And while I love you, Scotty, as much as I love every single member
of our pack, I have to tell you that you are not fearsome. At least not to the
members of this family. Can you really see a single one of our wolves being so
afraid of you that he will rather cower in fear than angering you?"
Scandalized, Scott shook his head, "Of course not. What kind of Alpha would I
be if my pack was afraid of me?"
Approaching his best friend, putting his hands on Scott's shoulders, Stiles
nodded. "Exactly. Our wolves follow you out of love, because they know that you
would move heaven and earth for every single one of them. I, on the other hand,
can be the type of Alpha to be feared. An Alpha like the one Peter's wolf is
used to. An Alpha who can help him maintain control even when his every
instinct is telling him to attack."
"That's not the right way." Scott whispered, sagging.
Pulling his best friend closer so that Scott's head sat against Stiles' chest,
the teenager whispered while caressing his best friend's neck. "I know, Scotty.
But Peter has not been with us long enough to be able to make your love for him
his anchor. He needs our support until he manages; and I have all but provided
this help tonight. And you know that I had to because there is no way for me to
let him live when he injures another pack-member. You understand that, right?"
Inhaling Stiles' thunder-storm scent, something that overwhelmed his best
friend's natural fragrance every time Stiles did magic, Scott nodded
reluctantly but still stated. "I still don't like it."
"I know. But until we can find another way this will have to do. You know how
little I like to threaten our pack with my magic. It's supposed to be something
that protects us, not something to be feared."
After drawing comfort from his best friend for some time Scott straightened
again. Yes, he did understand that sometimes there had to be hard and fast
choices, choices he knew himself to be incapable of. Still, he didn't have to
like them. He had known Stiles since kindergarten. Hell, Scott had spent more
of his time between the age of six and sixteen with the Stilinskis, than with
his own mother. He had not understood their way of living at the beginning but
he had picked up on it. He had always known Stiles to be a good person at
heart, but had come to realise that in his world, sometimes even good people
had to make bad choices. He knew that he could never be the person to pull the
trigger. He would catch a bullet for the people he loved but Stiles was the one
to eliminate the shooter. Together they worked and all they had to do was to
accept that they were different, but for this family necessary, each in their
own way.
                                     ~ * ~
Peter had fled to his room as soon as he had left the office. He had not been
able to face the pack, too terrified about what had happened and still
conditioned not to show any weakness. To his surprise it was Danny who knocked
on his door not ten minutes later, offering a plate of soup and a fresh roll.
Peter thought about straightening out of his crouch below the window where his
wolf had prompted him to hide, because it was the place closest to the exit and
a heating module ran through the floor right under it, but decided it was not
worth the effort. The incubus would mock him anyway, better to provide a
smaller target, even when the attack came in words and not in blows.
When Danny didn't say anything, but merely toyed with the napkin he had brought
along, Peter asked aggressively, "Aren't you going to elaborate on me being
brought so low?" He was well aware that the incubus did not smell of malicious
joy. He always extruded a small level of pheromones, even when he didn't want
to, but still Peter thought that he smelled concern. That didn't even make
sense, what was he to this demon?
"Do you really think that that's how our pack works? That when one gets a
dressing down us others rub our hands in glee?" The demon asked, shaking his
head as if disappointed. "You are no longer in the Hale-pack where everybody
fends for himself."
"No, I am in a pack with two Alphas who are strong enough to bring every single
one of us to our knees." Peter snapped, relieved at his own annoyance because
anger was so much easier to manage than fear. Yet still, his wolf refused to
let him rise. "I know that Scott's a good Alpha and that he is powerful, but he
clearly has nothing on Stiles. This … mage … could tear each and every one of
us apart."
Tilting his head in agreement, offering the soup that finally brought Peter to
the edge of the bed, Danny reminded him, "And yet, here you are, frightened but
clearly unharmed. Tell me, the next time you lose yourself to your instincts,
what will happen?"
"I will …," but then Peter closed his mouth, taking a spoon full of soup and a
bite of bread to buy himself some time before he answered. The truth was, he
really didn't know. Had he still been transformed he would have rolled over for
Stiles, everything to show his submission to his Alpha. The human mage had
proven himself strong and capable, a far greater threat to Peter's well-being
than Scott could ever be. After a few more bites he admitted, "I would think of
Stiles."
Smiling Danny rose and gently touched Peter's neck, a bland innuendo that
happened by instinct, not really meant as an attempt of seduction. "Exactly.
And I think it is safe to assume that you will be aware that hurting a pack-
member is not something Stiles would consider appropriate behaviour." And with
a wink the incubus left.
                                     ~ * ~
"What did you do?" Lydia inquired when Stiles and Scott had finally claimed
their place at the dining table.
When the Alphas had emerged from Stiles' office, they had helped with setting
the table before everybody claimed a seat. Danny had volunteered to bring some
food to Peter, since nobody thought him ready to join them again. When Ethan
asked why he was so eager to help a wolf he had not even particularly liked a
few days ago, Danny grinned, "Because I assume that he will feel better when he
knows that I can't smell his fear. Everybody would be unsettled with Stiles'
magic directed at him."
And that had brought on Lydia's question. Calmly Stiles informed her, "Showing
him how much power I can hold."
Not liking the detached and superior behaviour, Melissa asked, "Since when is
fear an acceptable instrument to rule this family?" She had known about the
family business since her son had started coming into this house. And while she
didn't agree with the methods she had always made it her mission to support her
kids no matter what. Especially after Claudia and then John had died. Yet, some
things had to be questioned.
Surprisingly it was Derek who answered. "Because a wolf needs an anchor. Many
bad things have happened in my uncle's life and our pack was never a
particularly caring one. At least not when it came to the emotional well-being
of its members. When Peter saw Lydia getting hurt his worst fears surfaced. He
had lost his fiancé and unborn child in the fire five years ago, and seeing the
woman he now come to care about getting hurt drove him out of his mind."
Melissa merely raised her eyebrows, prompting Derek to continue. "To stay in
control of our wolves we need a strong emotion to focus on. Another emotion
than rage because that's what makes our animal side appear."
Looking at Stiles, Derek smiled briefly before carrying on. "Most werewolves
say that it is a person they focus upon but that's not true."
Despite the mumbled protests, he went on. "The truth is it's the emotion we
associate with the person that helps us to overrule the rage. For a very long
time my anchor was anger, mostly at myself. But ever since coming here, it is
affection, safety and happiness, like I assume it is for most wolves in this
house."
Shaking his head sadly, Derek searched Melissa's eyes. "Peter hasn't come that
far. He needs a strong feeling to keep his wolf under control and Stiles has
provided it. It might not be the ideal solution but it is, for sure, the safest
one. There are very few feelings in this world as strong as fear and until my
uncle learns to trust this pack, fear will provide a suitable anchor to keep
his wolf at bay."
"I don't like it." Lydia mumbled and surprisingly Aiden nodded. They looked at
each other and without a word both decided to go to Peter tonight, not wanting
him to sleep alone when induced fear was now his ruling emotion.
Sighing tiredly, Stiles looked up from his plate. "Me neither, Lyds, and if you
have a better idea I am all ears. But I can't risk having Peter injuring
another one of you. You all know what I will have to do if that happens. He is
pack now, so killing him is simply not an option."
Discomforted, the pack nodded their agreement. Nobody liked to have a pack-
member fearing one of their Alphas. Still it was a hundred times better than
having to kill one when bad came to worst. That they could all agree upon.
                                     ~ * ~
***** A missing pack-member *****
Chapter Summary
     Let's stay with the Hales for a little while longer.
Chapter Notes
     Thanks to Memprime and Wecantgiggleatacrimescene I have another
     chapter for you so fast into the new year ;).
Peter felt unnerved by his fear towards Stiles' magic. Honestly, the werewolf
wasn't all too sure about what the Alpha had done, since the boy had not
muttered a single word when forcing him to his knees. Naturally, as Talia's
enforcer, Peter knew about magic. But somehow the Hale-pack had missed picking
up on Stiles. He seemed to be an impressive mage if he could conjure power that
was simply meant to bring someone to his knees. He had not even hurt Peter so
there really was no reason for him to be unsettled. This pack was soft, caring
but as he had just learned, definitely not weak. Peter couldn't even fathom
what that meant for his future. For now his wolf was cowering with his tail
between his legs, desperate to get on Stiles' good side, no, anxious not to get
on Stiles bad side ever again.
When there was a knock on the door, Peter sighed. He really should have known
that they would not leave him be. Still he couldn't hold back a snarl when
Aiden entered wearing nothing but his sleeping clothes, carrying his blanket
and a pillow.
Baring his teeth Peter hissed, "I don't need a baby-sitter."
Spreading the blanket over the bed beside Peter's, Aiden crawled in, shrugging.
"Tough luck. Lydia decided we would sleep here, so deal with it."
Suspicious, Peter asked, "Why are you lying?"
Sighing as if this was a chore, Aiden admitted, "Lydia was not the only one who
made that decision. Now shut up and go to sleep!"
Growling a little before giving in to the inevitable, Peter wrapped himself in
his blanket, facing away from Aiden. It was strange to have another man in his
bed, especially since Lydia apparently was not ready to join them. Still Peter
felt comforted by Aiden's proximity. Of all the people in this pack, he felt
the closest relationship to this twin. He was egoistic, rude when he could get
away with it, cruel when it served his purpose. Still, he adored Lydia and was
a well-integrated member of this pack. That left Peter hoping that he had a
chance to become a member of the Stilinski-McCall pack as well. He barely
registered Lydia joining them, only turned around to breathe in her comforting
scent before drifting off again.
                                     ~ * ~
Midnight had passed and Stiles was still awake. Derek knew from the forced
evenness of his breathing and his purposefully still form, that sleep had
eluded him so far. Stiles was never quiet, not even in his sleep. He mumbled
through his dreams, shifted in the bed, snuggled into Derek's arms or twisted
away when he was too hot. But tonight there was nothing. Stiles lay stock still
as if he could fool his lover into believing that he was alright. Sighing
tiredly, Derek finally asked the question that seemed to keep Stiles awake.
"Why did you scare him?"
Turning around, realizing that his attempts to delude a werewolf had been
foolish Stiles looked at Derek. "If you don't believe that I made the right
decision, why did you back me up during dinner?"
Resting his head on his elbow, allowing the moonlight to shine upon his face,
Derek explained, "You made a choice. That choice will help Peter to control his
wolf. But I know you, Stiles, you find other ways. You were always
understanding and supportive, never resorting to blunt force. And clearly you
are worried because you did just that, so tell me why."
Hiding his face, relieved that the moon was at his back, the Don of the
Stilinski crime-family whispered, "Because I am afraid, and I don't know what
else to do."
Reaching for Stiles' hand, bringing it to his face, kissing the palm, Derek
asked, "What are you afraid of?"
Swallowing around his constricting throat, because he felt undeserving of the
tender gesture, Stiles pulled his hand back and turned away from Derek. Hugging
his pillow he admitted after a while, "If Peter goes off the deep end, I have
really no clue how to deal with him. When I kill him, I will break my wolves'
hearts. Yours included. If I let him live I prove that I don't have the
strength to make the hard choices necessary to lead a family. Either way I'm
screwed."
"Stiles? Stiles, please look at me." Derek prompted quietly, successfully
turning the teenager in his arms on the second attempt. Stiles was always so
strong, so self-assured. Sometimes the werewolf forgot how young the boy
actually was, and that despite having been prepared for this life by his
parents, there were still so many things he did not know. With this current
problem however, Derek was able to help. Maybe because he saw this pack clearer
than Stiles ever could, probably because he was aware better that its Alpha,
where its true strength lay.
Cupping the teenager's cheek tenderly, Derek prompted him to look up and
reminded him, "You have seven wolves at your disposal and while none of us know
exactly what to do with Peter should he hurt one of us again, we all know that
we don't want to let that happen. Sure, he could attack Lydia or Melissa or
even you, but now that we are prepared for this possibility we can take
precautions against it. We can protect all of you and him as well. All you need
is a little faith. Have faith that your pack knows how to deal with a situation
such as this, now that they are aware of it."
Snuggling into the caress, Stiles asked in a whisper, "How can you know my pack
better than me?"
Pulling his lover close, enjoying how easily Stiles gave in, Derek chuckled.
"Because I have been in a pack where this might have been a major problem: one
member going off the deep end and my mother would have been forced to punish or
even kill him. But in this pack we work together, to make sure that something
like what had happened to Lydia never happens again."
"Derek?"
"Yes?"
"I …," hesitant Stiles interrupted himself, because he was well aware that what
he wanted to say was not appropriate, maybe not even desired. "Thank you. For …
just … for being here I guess."
Kissing his lover's forehead Derek whispered, "There is no place on earth where
I would rather be. And now sleep. You have wasted enough of this night to your
worries."
                                     ~ * ~
Agent McCall needed a month to build up new evidence against the Stilinski
family and when he finally approached their doorstep with a search warrant he
came face to face with his former wife. Melissa calmly took the paper from his
hands and only after checking with Stiles, did she bade him to enter. The pack
had expected his visit for the last five days so they had no qualms about him
being there. Still, Stiles ordered Scott to wrap up his current negotiation
with a new branch of dealers as quickly as possible. The Alpha and Ethan would
be a suitable support for Scott's mother. That and Melissa had a night-shift so
she really needed to sleep for a few hours and not deal with grumpy agents
going through their stuff.
Just to be on the safe side, Stiles asked Derek to return home as well. The Don
of the Stilinski family felt more comfortable having three people to deal with
the FBI agents. Obediently Derek saved the work he had only just begun and
checked out one of the company's cars. Stiles' car was reserved for the human
leader of the family since it was the only one armoured. The other vehicles
could be borrowed for a few hours, when no personal deliveries were made. He
cursed when he got a flat tire out of the blue, barely at the edge of the
industrial quarter of Beacon Hills. When he left the car to look at the damage
he did not even notice that the tire had been hit by a small arrow from a
crossbow since a piercing pain at his side had him stumble and lose
consciousness before he fully registered what was happening.
                                     ~ * ~
"All I say is that you have options, Scott!" Agent McCall was supervising his
team taking apart the Stilinski home. They were very careful because Scott and
Ethan had snarled at them right at the beginning that they would sue the Bureau
for every single item they broke during their pestering search. This was the
home of a business owner and Stiles would hear about this. This was nothing but
harassment because Stiles was so young. Melissa was currently following the
agents with Ethan as her protection, leaving the two men to have a little
father-son-bonding time.
Glaring at his father angrily, Scott asked, "Like what? Like joining the Bureau
like you? Leaving behind the people I love in favour of a meagre pay-check and
the knowledge that I 'serve the public'? Be serious, dad. If I were one for
public services, I would become a nurse like mum."
Frustrated, his father sighed. "Not everything is about money. I am aware that
… ahm … associating yourself with the Stilinski family allows you a comfortable
life but there are other ways. You could go to college, even to the university.
You could become a doctor. You are a smart boy, Scott."
"You think I am here because of the money?" Scott took half a step back,
looking at his father as if he really didn't know him. Something that was sad
but true. Shaking his head, the Alpha reined in his anger. This was bigger than
the issues he had with his father. This was about family. With a shrug the boy
admitted quietly, "You know, maybe it even was about the money in the
beginning. There was a time when my asthma was so bad, that I could barely make
it through the day without my best friend grounding me, helping me to breathe.
When my medical bills stacked up and mum didn't know which way to turn because
more than two shifts a day simply were not possible over an extended period of
time. During these dire times, for more than three years, Stiles held my hand.
He promised me that everything would be alright, while Claudia and John did the
same for mum.
"The Stilinskis offered a payment plan even before they offered the money
because they knew mum would never take a gift like that. She worked hard to pay
it back, but no longer unreasonably so. But when Claudia died, John couldn't
care less about the money. He simply left it in a bank account, an account
Stiles gave to me on my eighteenth birthday. All John cared about was his son.
Because Stiles was the one who couldn't breathe properly since he had severe
panic attacks after his mum's death. Then I was the one who helped him when he
couldn't make it through the day. John didn't know where to turn or whom to
trust. Mum was there to help them. This family might have started out of
necessity, but we came together by choice and neither mum nor I regret a single
step of our way. So you know what dad, keep your 'options' to yourself, because
as far as I am concerned I am exactly where I'm meant to be!"
Having heard the last part of their conversation, Melissa came downstairs and
placed a hand on Scott's shoulder, to show her agreement with his words.
Coldly, she looked at her ex-husband. "Your goons are done, Rafael. I want you
to call them back and leave our house. I have a night-shift in five hours, and
I want to take a nap."
Glaring angrily at his son and former wife, Agent McCall asked, "Why do you
even bother going to the hospital? Since your son provides such a splendid life
for the both of you by doing the dirty work for a petty child who thinks he
owns the world. Stiles Stilinski will drag you both down with him. You have to
forgive me that I simply cannot stand by and watch this happening."
Scott's sub vocal growl was barely audible, but he couldn't hold himself in
check any longer at his father badmouthing his best friend. Yet Melissa's hand
on his shoulder, held him down, anchored him for the time being and he leaned
into his mother so he would not shift by accident. He didn't care very much for
his father's opinion, or so he told himself repeatedly, but he would not have
him insult the only person in the world who had always been there for him.
Yet before he could defend Stiles, his mother spoke. "I enjoy working at the
hospital. I am doing good there, just like the rest of this family with their
respective jobs. I am well aware that you might never understand that, Rafael,
but still, you have no choice but to accept it. Now leave. You have already
overstayed your welcome."
"There is no time-restriction for the execution of a warrant!"
Smiling sweetly, Melissa revealed, "I'm aware, but your man have already
collected every computer and every folder to be found within these walls. So
unless you want to literally go through our dirty laundry, I suggest you let us
be!"
Looking at his former wife sadly, Rafael McCall mumbled quietly, "We are doing
good as well and whatever we will find on these machines will be used against
this family, and all of their associates, in a court of law. You can't keep up
this charade indefinitely. Be careful."
Then they had seen all the agents out. Luckily the paper-work for their
insurances and tax-sheets in this house were only copies; they would have a lot
of documents to dig through with no evidence that the house was linked to a
crime organization in any way. Still, despite knowing that, despite trusting
Danny and Stiles explicitly when they had said that nothing bad would come from
this search, Scott wrapped his arms around his chest, hugging himself, feeling
uneasy.
His mother pulled him into a comforting hug, questioning his obvious unease,
"What is it?"
"I don't know, mum." Scott admitted. "Something is not right."
Confused, he turned around to look at his mother and asked, "Why would dad lie
about what will happen if incriminating data was found in our documents?"
                                     ~ * ~
After phoning Stiles and telling him what had happened, the Alpha brushed off
the events and returned to work. In the evening the pack came together,
preparing dinner. After they had all claimed their places, Stiles looked
around, "Isn't Derek going to join us?"
Confused Scott looked at his best friend, "I thought he stayed at the office."
Feeling dread spreading in his stomach, Stiles slowly turned towards Scott. "I
sent him home as soon as your mother called."
For a heartbeat Stiles and Scott could only look at each other, fear written
all over their faces. Every last member of the pack paled, admitting to one
another that they hadn't seen Derek since breakfast. Slowly, as if he was
carrying the burden of the world, Stiles rose from the table and approached the
hallway, reaching for one of the studs. When fastening the earring he activated
it instantly. "Derek? Are you there?"
He slowly returned to the dining room and tried again to reach his lover, and
again after that. Every last member of the pack reached for their communication
devices, their tablets, mobile phones, Allison even picked up the landline to
call the office. But none of them could reach their missing pack-member. Peter
was snarling at Stiles, asking why he had sent his nephew away when Scott and
Ethan had already been on their way, but the teenager did bother with an
answer.
Stiles felt numb to everything that was going on around him. His vision swam,
shifted, and he turned around to look at noises he could not comprehend. Yet no
matter how hard he tried his brain refused to work. Helplessly he clutched onto
something right in front of him, neither knowing nor understanding what was
happening. All he knew was the overwhelming feeling that the person that
mattered the most to him was missing and Stiles did not know how to deal with
the situation.
Scott had his hands full with a pack who suddenly realized that one of its
members was missing. He tried to calm his friends, to talk to them, assure them
that they would find Derek. But it was like standing in the eye of the
hurricane, everything around him was twisting and turning but nothing he could
do nothing to stop the torrent. He ended his fruitless attempts when Allison
called his name. Looking at his girlfriend, Scott realized that Stiles was
clutching her forearm, fingers white with pressure that surely would leave some
nasty marks. But the face of his friend pushed all concerns for Allison out of
Scott's mind. Stiles was shivering, breath going in huge gasps like he was
suffocating. He was swaying on his feet, his eyes were unfocused.
Realizing that he had to do something, Scott approached his best friend. Stiles
had not had a panic attack this strong since his father's funeral. Yet whatever
Scott said or did, Stiles would not focus. All he did was mumbling Derek's name
when he had a few precious breaths to spare. The Alpha nearly snarled when
suddenly a small arm pushed him aside. Unimpressed by the vicious reaction,
Lydia demanded, "Get the wolves out of here."
Shaking his head stubbornly, concentrating only on Stiles, he received a slap
right in the face from Stiles' most trusted advisor. Yet when he let his eyes
glow red in warning, Lydia didn't back down. Determined she pointed out,
"Scott, Stiles is drawing energy from everybody in the room. He is panicking
and is trying to gather all power available. He's not in his right mind and we
can't predict what he will happen when he overloads. Get the wolves away!
Having all of you in the same room is only making it worse!"
Concentrating, Scott realized that Lydia was right. He could feel the pull, the
need to be close to Stiles but when he questioned the motive, he realized that
the feeling was not of his own making. So Scott did the only thing he could by
ordering his pack out of the house. They were running over the lawn,
approaching the back-wall but before they could jump it, Peter turned around.
"I'm not leaving."
"Didn't you hear what Lydia had just said? Stiles is draining our energy. But
we will need it for finding Derek and nobody can say what he will do when he
gathers too much!" Scott reached for the wolf to get him to safety.
Still, Peter remained stubborn, shaking his head. "I will not leave. Stiles
will need us as soon as he gets himself under control again."
It was not as if Peter was not verbalizing what every last one of them was
thinking. So reluctantly Scott relented. "Alright, but we will stay here, as
far away as possible." He could feel the relief of his pack, when they started
to pace the outer wall, eyes fixed on their home, listening to what was going
on inside.
                                     ~ * ~
***** Tapping into Resources *****
Chapter Summary
     Stiles is willing to use all sources available to find Derek.
As soon as the wolves were gone, Allison and Lydia tried to talk Stiles down,
but their friend seemed out of reach, even for them. The girls touched him, his
hands, his face. They even tried to slap him, but all Stiles managed was a
sharp intake of breath.  He continued to alternate between hyperventilating and
suffocating when he was unable to draw air into his lungs. The girls pushed him
out of the dining room, into the cold snow, rubbing it over his hands and
putting it on his nape, but Stiles didn't even seem to notice. Looking at each
other in fear and confusion, Lydia retorted to one, last, desperate measure:
she kissed Stiles.
Her lips lay cold and reluctant on her friend's but after a few seconds she
felt Stiles react. Looking up she gazed into confused, but aware eyes. Puzzled,
Stiles looked from Allison, who was still rubbing his back, to Lydia. The tip
of his finger was brushing over his lips. The teenager tilted his head to the
side. "You kissed me."
"Well, I …," Lydia tried to come up with an explanation, but Allison beat her
to it. "Apparently, shoving snow down your shirt is less of a shock to your
system than Lydia kissing you. You were having a panic attack, Stiles."
"Why would I …," the teenager asked before reality caught up with him. His eyes
got huge and a blinding fire started to burn in them. He did not reach for his
ear-stud again, aware that it was no use, since Derek had not responded the
first few times he had tried to call him. Unable to deal with the overwhelming
pressure of this realization, Stiles buried his fingers in his short hair and
curled into himself before he let out a terrifying scream. The power pouring
out of him was like a shockwave making the very foundation of their house
shake.
He only stopped when the wolves' started howling, mirroring his grief. Whipping
around, he looked at the members of his pack who did not dare to approach him.
After several deep breaths, he reached for Lydia and Allison to steady himself
when he got to his feet. Quietly he ordered, "Peter, Allison, you go to Red
Hood and retrace Derek's steps. You are the best trackers we have and if
anybody can find a werewolf who is missing, a huntress has the best chance.
Call your dad, Allison, maybe he is involved somehow and can give us a lead."
Rising to his feet, Stiles looked at the wolves who reluctantly came closer.
The Alpha was unaware that his eyes were still burning, frightening half of his
pack. "Scott, Ethan, Aiden, talk to our people on the streets. I want to know
if anybody has heard anything. Spread the word that I am paying good money for
a clue about Derek's current location, but I won't be taken advantage of.
Anybody who tries to skim us will be strangled with his entrails. I have no
patience for cons right now.
"Danny, put your equipment back together and comb through every last piece of
surveillance footage this town has to offer. I don't care if you use traffic
cameras, surveillance systems in our shops or google maps. If there is a hint
of Derek in any system: find it!"
"Lydia," Stiles addressed the woman by his side. He was far calmer now, but his
eyes were still blazing. "You will contact every ally we have. We have a lot of
favours to call in and I have no qualms about doing just that. I don't care if
it is the vampires, the wolves or a shady business-partner: if somebody out
there knows something I want you to extract the information!
"Erica, Boyd, you have your boys and girls: make use of their eyes." Gesturing
vaguely, Stiles offered. "Promise them a reward, a way out, I don't care. Do
whatever is necessary to ensure their support."
                                     ~ * ~
When everybody had received their orders, Danny had asked Isaac to help him
with his computers, only Liam and Stiles stayed behind. Looking at his
desolated, human Alpha, the young teenager wanted to ask if there was anything
he could do, even though he was well aware that he had very little to offer.
But before he could open his mouth, he remembered what Scott had taught him.
Looking at a human, who was clearly making an effort of holding everything
together, Liam stepped up to him and wrapped his arms around Stiles' waist,
burying his face in the older teenager's chest.
For a long moment, the boy did not even react to the gesture. But then he
wrapped his arms around Liam and after a mere minute Stiles broke down.
Clutching the young wolf in his arms, the human started to sob. Strong enough,
but unwilling to hold him up, Liam sank to the floor next to the sofa, pulling
off one of the quilts, wrapping it around Stiles and himself. The teenager
sobbed desperately, drenching Liam's shirt with his tears, but the boy held him
through his breakdown, offering his strength when the Alpha had none. Never
before had he thought it possible that he could be the one supporting anybody,
but now, with Stiles in his arms, Liam realized that pack meant that you were
there for each other. That everybody could become weak, safe in the knowledge
that someone would be there to catch him.
Liam could see Danny and Isaac walking down the stairs. Though the demon and
the other wolf looked at him in question, he merely shook his head, pulling
Stiles closer. They had a job to do so Liam would be the one to comfort. After
a while Stiles pulled back, hiding his face in embarrassment. Clearly the Don
of the family did not think that he was supposed to break down in front of his
youngest pack-member. But Liam was determined to show that this was alright,
"Are you feeling better? Did I help?"
Trying a small smile and failing miserably, Stiles nevertheless nodded. "Yes,
it did. Thank you. I … how did you know?"
Shrugging, Liam rose and offered his hand. "Scott told me that pack draws
comfort from touch. You might be human but you are still pack. And if it
helped, I did the best I could under the circumstances. I am neither a hacker
nor can I go out with the others, looking for Derek. But I can stay with you
and offer comfort."
Aware of how far this boy had come over the last few weeks, Stiles gently
cupped his cheek, and kissed Liam's forehead, enjoying how the pup melted into
his touch, he had been deprived of physical affection for such a long time.
"Yes, you can and it is helping, very much in fact. I want to go and try
scrying for Derek. Will you accompany me? Your touch is grounding."
Following Stiles to his office, Liam asked, "How can I ground you? You are not
a wolf."
Squeezing Liam's hand before letting go and rummaging through the cupboards
under his desk, pulling out a map and a crystal on a string, Stiles tried to
explain. "You are right, I am not a wolf. I am a spark. I carry magic as a part
of my very being. Magic can come from many places, people, air, fire or water.
It all depends on your alignment with the elements, but my power comes from the
earth and all living things. That's why it is so easy for me to draw energy
from all of you. You're earthbound creatures as well. We are on the same
wavelength so to speak."
"And now you want to use my energy to find Derek?"
Shaking his head, Stiles gestured for Liam to sit down on the carpet in front
of him. "No, I feel … I don't really know how to explain it. I feel unhinged.
Like my compass is off and I hope that with your help I can align it again. But
until I manage, you have to be my compass. You are a wolf, sensitive to nature.
I will try to latch on to that feeling, grounding myself through it. Does that
make sense to you?"
Now it was Liam's turn to shake his head, still the boy offered his hands to
Stiles. "No, but it doesn't matter. What do you need me to do?"
"Concentrate on the moon."
Looking over his shoulder, Liam closed his eyes. He could feel the pull of the
celestial object. It was not as strong as it would be on a full moon but it was
enough to focus on. Stiles reached for his hands and for a long time, the two
of them were simply sitting on the floor breathing together before the spark
reached for the crystal.
                                     ~ * ~
Danny and Isaac had a harder time working together. Not because either was
reluctant, they have known each other since the first year of high school,
though they had travelled in different circles. Yet at the moment, Isaac could
not move from the spot to help Danny in setting up his computers. He was frozen
in front of the hidden compartment in their gym, starring at the small room
behind a movable wall that had hidden, amongst other things, Danny's equipment
from the FBI. The area behind the fake wall was barely ten square-feet and
filled with computer equipment and several boxes with sensitive documents.
But Isaac was unable to see what was right in front of him. Before his mind's
eye was an old stairway that went down into the cellar of his old house. He
could feel his father breathing down his neck, hear the dead bastard's words as
if he were standing right next to him. Whenever he had forced Isaac down there
he had called him useless, had told him that he needed to be taught a lesson.
Isaac expected to be shoved into the darkness and despite feeling like running
and hiding, he was unable to move a muscle. His entire body was frozen in
terror.
Danny, eager to go to work, was torn between shoving Isaac aside, reaching for
his equipment himself and helping his terrified pack-member. Usually that
wouldn't even be a problem, agony right in front of him forced Danny to sooth
whatever family-member was in pain. But Stiles' own terror was nearly
overwhelming him, made it hard for him to think. The burning need to find his
master's companion was all-encompassing for the incubus. In the end he tampered
down the connection to his master, wrapping his strong arms around Isaac from
behind.
Locking away all the dread and the terror from Stiles' mind, helped Danny to
concentrate on Isaac. He hugged his friend, whispered soothing words into his
ear. Yet Isaac barely reacted, at least not until Danny whispered into his ear,
"Isaac, sweetheart, you have to move."
This incentive seemed to register in the teenager's mind, but instead of
stepping aside he started to shiver profoundly. The boy curled into himself and
the unexpected gesture made it impossible for Danny to hold on to him. The
teenager's hands slipped free from Isaac's chest. Whimpering, the curly haired
teenager tried to protect his head, pleading desperately, "Please, please don't
make me. I will be good, I promise. I won't do it again. I swear. Please, don't
make me go down there. Don't lock me up again. I can be good, I swear!"
Danny cursing violently, but that made the werewolf curl into himself even
more. Yet there was no way in hell that Danny could keep his opinion to himself
about the vile bastard who had sired Isaac and tortured him for years. They all
were well aware what kind of punishment Isaac's father had dished out prior to
Isaac receiving the bite. Only then had Isaac been able to stand up for
himself, fleeing his home and right into Scott's arms, he had not left them
ever since and was off much better for that. He had found an occupation where
his talents were appreciated and lovers who truly cared for him.
A tiny part of Danny was glad that neither Scott nor Allison were around. If
they knew that Isaac was panicking there would be hell to pay. Usually they
became their most fierce and were inclined to dish out serious harm when
something harmed Isaac. For the person that had caused their boyfriend's
flashback... The results were honestly terrifying. As well as it was that he
wasn’t going to get excavated today, the disadvantage was that the two not
being here meant that getting Isaac to snap out of his hallucination would take
longer.
Sighing, Danny reluctantly crouched down beside the shivering werewolf, causing
him to whimper. He did not particularly like on using his magic on his family,
but right now he really was out of options if he didn't want to call back the
Alpha or the huntress. Reaching for his demonic powers, Danny wrapped himself
into an illusion, before tilting Isaac's head up, kissing him lovingly. At
first the boy was reluctant, but after a few moments, he responded to the kiss,
burying his hand's in now too short hair, crawling as close as possible.
Only when Danny was reasonably sure about what was at the forefront of Isaac's
mind, when he started to smell delicious to the demon despite his fear, did he
pull back, looking into the confused eyes of his friend. The incubus felt
tender fingertips brushing over his bottom-lip, and sensed Isaac's confusion
when the boy tilted his head. "Scott?"
Shaking his head, dropping the magic concealment, Danny pulled back, tugging
Isaac away from the hidden compartment.
Clearly confused about what just had happened, Isaac asked, "Why did you …?"
"Because I couldn't think of another way to bring you back to the present."
Looking at the hidden door, Isaac dropped his head ashamed. "I'm sorry."
"Hey," Danny whispered, cupping the other boy's cheeks lovingly. "It's not your
fault that your father was a sick bastard. Everybody would have trouble dealing
with this. I should not have asked you to go in there. Do you think you could
carry my equipment upstairs if I bring them to you?"
Taking a calming breath, closing his eyes for a few moments, Isaac leaned into
the comfortable embrace Danny was offering. After a few moments he gathered his
bearings, nodding with determination. "Yes, let's get you set up so we can find
Derek. My youth might not have been pleasant - (the understatement of the
century) - but Derek could be off far worse at the moment. We have to find him
and fast."
Relieved that his friend was with him again and not trapped in past memories,
Danny dashed into the compartment, collecting the three personal computers and
six monitors on the wall of the gym, before closing and sealing the hidden
door. The plugs and cables necessary to set up his equipment were under his bed
in an old gym-bag. Together they would be able to get his workstation ready in
less than half an hour and then Danny would look for any trace Derek might have
left during his abduction.
                                     ~ * ~
In Stiles' office, Liam and he had lain out a map of Beacon Hills and the
surrounding areas. But no matter how much power Stiles was mobilizing, the
crystal in his hand simply swung in circles over the map, neither indicating
Derek's present in one area nor another. In the end, the spark got so
frustrated that he called Deaton, telling him about Derek's abduction and his
attempts to find him.
Deaton hummed for a moment, before asking in his usual calm and collected
voice, "Where are you at the moment."
"My office at home. Why?"
"Is it safe to assume, that you are trying to use your earth-bound powers to
find another earth-bound creature while surrounded by concrete?"
"Yes, of course, where else …," Stiles started, but interrupted himself after a
moment. "Are you saying that I have to go outside to connect to the earth to
find Derek?"
"What I am saying, Mr. Stilinski," Deaton never worried about anybody knowing
about his connection to the crime-family, despite his so called 'neutrality'.
"is you might have a chance to find your partner through scrying, until the
both of are in touch with the source of your magic."
"And if Derek is not somewhere out in the woods but 'surrounded by concrete' as
well than I can shove my crystal." Stiles deadpanned.
"I am afraid that you will not be able to locate him by scrying, yes. Maybe
more mundane methods of retrieving your lost pack-member are in order."
"What are you suggesting?"
"I understand that you have a contact in the local police force?"
Sighing tiredly, not even wanting to think where Deaton would have gotten that
particular information, Stiles pondered. "I doubt that the Sheriff would help
us."
"I was not talking about the Sheriff, Mr. Stilinski. But now I have to let you
go, I have a cat in the corner of my office that is about to go into labour."
And with that the veterinarian ended the call and had Stiles staring at the
mobile in his hand.
It was Liam who pulled it from him, making a call himself, since the Don was
currently chewing on his lips, clearly undecided of where to go from here.
True, Stiles could rely on his pack to find his lover, but that was not the
teenager's way as Liam was well aware.
"Beacon Hills Sheriff's Department, Jordan Parrish speaking, how may I help
you?"
"I'm …," Liam sniffed, drawing a deep, watery breath before continuing. "It's
Liam, can I … may I come to you? I have to … I don't really know what to do. I
would just like to talk to somebody."
"Liam?" Concern was palpable in the deputy's voice when he spoke again. "Why
are you using Stiles' phone? What's wrong?"
Looking at his Alpha who had whipped around, when Liam had started sniffing,
the boy smirked before drawing another, somewhat pained sounding breath,
lowering his voice to a mere whisper. "Because I don't have mine at the moment.
Please, Jordan, you … can I just talk to you? I can sneak out, I …"
Breaking off, drawing another shuddering breath as if he was crying, he heard
the officer assure him, "Yes, of course. Do you want me to pick you up? I …
Liam what is wrong?"
"No!" Liam nearly shouted, before lowering his voice into a frightened whisper
again. "I will sneak out, I will come to you," before hanging up, wiping fake
tears out of his eyes, handing his mobile back to Stiles with a triumphant
grin.
"I'm impressed. You're a much better actor than I have ever given you credit
for." Stiles stated, looking at his youngest pack-member in amazement.
Shrugging, Liam grinned, "It was necessary with Mark and …" Shoving away
unpleasant memories, the young teenager looked up again to continue their
discussion about the current crisis, but found Stiles right in his personal
space, caressing his cheek tenderly before pulling Liam close.
Stiles' voice was quiet but unexpectedly vicious when he stated, "I so regret
having shot that bastard. For what he had done to you and your sister he
deserved a long and painful torture."
"You shot him in the stomach," Liam reminded him. "That is a very agonizing
death, or so Danny told me."
"Not enough for what he had done." Stiles decided quietly, and instead of being
frightened by the Alpha's anger as he might have been with Mark, Liam revelled
in it, because he knew that Stiles was angry on it on his behalf.
                                     ~ * ~
***** Child abuse? *****
Chapter Summary
     Let's see what Liam can come up with to ensure Derek get's the help
     he needs. Not that he is the only one to help. There is another woman
     we have seen far too little of, despite her being a brilliant
     character. And no she is not screaming, at least not yet.
Chapter Notes
     Despite technical difficulties, Wecantgiggleatacrimescene managed to
     finish this chapter and send it to me so that I can post it on time.
     As always, many thanks to Memprime as well who allows me to use her
     as a sounding board and helps me with my ideas. To the both of you:
     despite the constant change of beta for the first part, I am really
     glad that the two of you are sticking with me. With your help, this
     story is so much better!
After a few moments, Stiles pulled back and playfully shook Liam's shoulder.
"What did you think colouring me abusive? I know that we have to speak to
Jordan, but we could have come up with a way that didn't incriminate me!"
Proud of his fast thinking, Liam reminded Stiles, "First of all, I did not even
hint about you hurting me. All I did was breath wetly and fake tears. Second,
nobody can prove anything, without me actually being abused and at the rate I
am healing they would have a hard time doing that, even when Scott's training
is a little rough. We need to talk to Jordan in private. And since I'm not
legal, nobody is allowed to record my conversations.
Stiles would have laughed were the situation not so dire. "I can't let you go
alone, you know that."
"I don't have to. Danny just finished setting up his equipment and Lydia is
here as well. Between you and Isaac I have sufficient protection." Liam added
quietly, "You know we can't wait. Between rivalling packs and crime families,
who knows what is happening to Derek right now. I am a member of this pack. Now
let me do my part in Derek's rescue."
Nodding, aware that hesitation would get them nowhere, Stiles ordered Liam to
change and took his own advice. After having summoned Isaac, the human Alpha
changed into leather-trousers and a vest under his hoodie. Liam wore
comfortable, but slightly too thin clothes and Isaac was in jeans and a
leather-jacket. The wolves needed less protection than their leader but still
they packed a leather jacket for Liam as well, Derek's belated Christmas
present for the boy. Nobody had said anything about it, since everybody had
managed to sneak one present or another into Liam's room the day after
Christmas.
                                     ~ * ~
Stiles parked his jeep at a distance from the sheriff's office. Since it was
late, there was little background noise so Isaac would be able to hear what was
going on inside if he concentrated hard enough. Liam was wearing his earring
and they had agreed to stay connected for now. It made for a lot of white noise
but since nobody was shouting it was comforting for the wolves to hear every
member of the pack.
Exiting the car, Liam turned towards Stiles one last time before approaching
the station. "Hit me." He demanded.
Thunderstruck, Stiles looked at the young teenager. "Excuse me?"
"Stiles, we don't have time for this. Hit me so that my lip splits or my nose
bleeds. It will make me wanting to speak to Jordan in private much more
believable!"
"Are you crazy?" Stiles asked, "They can't arrest me for dealing and now you
want me convicted for child abuse?"
Rolling his eyes, Liam folded his arms, looking at his Alpha demanding. "They
can't convict you for anything without proof. I only need to get Jordan into
the interrogation room. Then I can heal and nobody will ever be the wiser."
Unbelieving Stiles looked at Isaac, but his enforcer only shrugged, "It will
speed things up considerably."
"You want me to hit a member of our pack?"
"Wouldn't be the first time, won't be the last. We fight. Don't act as if it's
uncommon for you to hit one of us. At least you are not using a rowan-wood bat
this time."
"That's for training!" Stiles nearly shouted, remembering the last second to
lower his voice.
"And this is for Derek, so stop fussing and hit me!" Liam demanded, looking at
Stiles determinedly.
Clearly not liking this one bit, Stiles still gave in and hit Liam right in the
face. The young boy hissed and clenched his fists, lowering his face, breathing
heavily.
"Liam, are you …?" The Alpha asked, approaching the pack-member he had just
violated. Remorse and pain was apparent in his voice, but the boy only shook
his head. "It's hard to keep it from healing, the wound is too superficial, it
will be gone in a few seconds if I don't concentrate now."
When he looked up after a moment, a few drops of blood were running down his
chin. When Isaac brushed them away, leaving a tiny smear of red on the boy's
chin, the teenager nodded, urging Liam towards the station. "Make it quick, the
moment you lose your concentration the wound will heal."
Watching Liam go, Stiles folded his arms defensively over his chest, looking
down before concentrating on the boy. "I really didn't like doing that."
Claiming a place beside his Alpha, aligning their bodies, Isaac admitted.
"Neither did I, but Liam is right, we need to work fast in this. Derek could be
tortured right now and we have no way of knowing or helping him."
                                     ~ * ~
Derek, in fact, was not tortured. He woke up to a massive headache but that was
it. He needed but a few seconds to realize that he was neither at home nor at
the company. Not that he would ever fall asleep there. Well close to never. He
had only woken in the office once or twice when he had pulled an all-nighter
after New Year.
Right now however, he was lying on a cold stone-floor with a bunch of people
surrounding him. He was tied by his hands and feet and the only thing working
to his advantage was that he had not been gagged. Otherwise he might not have
been able to keep his wolf in check who nearly lost it at the idea of being
bound, and worst of all, god knows how far away from Stiles without an
immediate way to get back.
Yet being surrounded by people who smelled cold, afraid and desperate was not
the right environment to let his wolf show, so he calmed himself as much as
possible and tried to touch his earring. He noticed quickly that with his
dress-shirt and tie he was unable to get any skin to skin contact to activate
the magic. Nearly panicking he twisted on the floor and tug on his ropes,
realizing that they were giving if he only pulled hard enough.
But before he could free himself, woman with cheap clothes and tear-stains on
her face approached him and whispered in broken English, "Hush … guards
listening. Hurt you if you make trouble." She had a thick, Spanish accent and
clearly was not from around there, so Derek forced his panic down,
concentrating on her fear and desperation, asking composed as to not frighten
her further. "What's your name? What are you doing here?"
But before the woman could answer, a man called for her sharply, making her
flinch and retreat to the wall. Derek tried to turn around and defend her, but
the guy was already approaching him, hissing at him in a barely comprehensible
dialect. "Shut up! No causing trouble. Us nearly free!"
'Human trafficking' was the first thing that shot through Derek's head at these
words. Yet that did not really make sense, because Beacon Hills was in the
middle of California. Were they in a warehouse close to the Mexican border he
would have understood, but here? No need to get immigrants that far into the
country. And even if these people were held by goons who traded in people, why
would they need him?
                                     ~ * ~
"Damn it, Stiles, settle down!" Isaac forced out between clenched teeth. He had
watched his Alpha pacing ever since Liam had entered the Sheriff's station and
slowly the twitchy movement was grating on his nerves. When Stiles just ignored
him, Isaac caught the teenager, pulling him close, Stiles' back to his front.
For a moment Stiles fought him, but when Isaac whispered into his ear,
"Everything is going to be alright. They are in one of the interrogation rooms.
Liam is absolutely safe." The human slowly calmed down, sagging against Isaac.
Leaning against his enforcer, Stiles whispered, "I don't know what to do.
Usually we know the parameters of a crisis, but in this we are flying blind. I
can't …" In a small voice, clearly ashamed to admit it, Stiles repeated nearly
inaudible, "I don't know what to do."
Hugging his friend closer, Isaac told him, "You need to have faith in us. We
are a strong pack; you know that. We WILL find Derek, there is no other outcome
is acceptable. All we need is time to catch his scent."
Though Stiles nodded, Isaac didn't let go, because he could smell that his
Alpha was still upset and nervous. He had to give a little when Stiles' phone
rang. Surprised, the two of them noticed that the Company was calling.
"Mr. Stilinski, you have to come to the office." Meredith voice was agitated,
nearly frantic.
"Why? What is it, Meredith? Why are you even in, it's nearly ten p.m."
Yet, his secretary only repeated herself, "You have to come in. I needed to
finish the paperwork for the Shawman contract and someone called."
Looking at each other in confusion, both Isaac and Stiles were well aware that
the contract with a new supplier was not due before next week the owner of the
Red Hood Trading Company relented nevertheless. "Alright, Meredith. We will be
there in twenty."
Stiles had learned not to doubt the woman in his life and though Meredith
sometimes was a little off-centre, she had never demanded anything of him that
had not turned out to be important for either him or his family. Not bothering
with the phone since Liam didn't have one, he concentrated the open connection
on the pup. "Liam, get out of there. We are needed at Red Hood."
                                     ~ * ~
Instantly, Liam rose from his chair and approached the door. Jordan held him
back, "Where do you think you are going?"
"Stiles is calling for me. Something happened at the Company."
"Liam!" Jordan reached for the boy, turning him around. But the young teenager
had no patience for the other thrall. True, he had come to terms with the both
of them belonging to Danny. He took satisfaction from the knowledge Danny had
given him, that had for now had been kept from Jordan about the importance of
the bond between the demon and his thralls. But that didn't mean that he would
let this man keep him from his pack.
Jordan had gone along with the story, had offered hot cocoa for Liam as soon as
the boy had entered the office with a split lip. He had listened to him talking
about Derek's presumed abduction. He had tapped into the network Stiles had set
up for the family to get the information he needed to search for the missing
pack-member. But now that he had all available data, he was reluctant to let
Liam go. The boy had come in injured after all.
"You can't go out there looking like that. We are not allowed to let you return
to your family showing signs of abuse."
Confused the boy looked up at the deputy and then searched for his reflection
in the one-way mirror. Seeing the minor injury still present he grinned,
"Awesome!"
Folding his arms over his chest, the young man facing him asked, "I fail to see
how a split lip is 'awesome', Liam."
Touching the wound gingerly, the boy revealed, "Healing is instinctual, I had a
hard time keeping me from doing it, after I got Stiles to finally hit me, and
let me tell you that was hard enough. But in here I didn't concentrate any
longer. Still it didn't heal. I am getting better!"
"What?" Bewilderment was written all over Jordan's face, but Liam didn't have
time to share the joy of him finally getting a grip on his wolf powers. He just
took a deep breath and started to let go of the healing process he had
supressed. Within moments the cut was healed and Liam licked away any remnants
of blood. Grinning at Jordan, he opened the door to the interrogation room and
headed towards the door.
He didn't expect the Sheriff to intercept him on his way out. "Son, where do
you think you are going?"
Liam circumvented him before the human was within touching distance. The man
had lifted his hand to reach for his shoulder, but knowing the history between
the Sheriff and his pack, Liam could not tolerate that. "I am going home, Sir."
"No, you are definitely not returning to these kids. They …" Yet before the
Sheriff could finish his sentence, he realized that Liam was unharmed. He could
have sworn the boy had had a split lip when coming in. He had even called youth
welfare service before talking to him as would have been procedure.
Stepping further out of reach, Liam finished the sentence for him, "They are
waiting for me. It is past my curfew already but I had something to discuss
with Jordan. We have a shared friend and … well, it was private." And before
the man could reply anything, Liam slipped out.
Turning towards his deputy, the Sheriff growled, "He had a split lip when
coming in!"
Taking a steeling breath, Jordan faked confusion, asking puzzled, "A split lip?
He seemed fine to me now."
This pack was walking the edge of the cliff and one of these days they would
tumble and with this jerk in office, Jordan had no way of protecting them. With
a tired sigh the deputy returned to his desk, ready to make a few calls on the
pack's behalf.
                                     ~ * ~
Liam jumped into the back-seat, clearly confused. "Why are we leaving for the
company?"
"Meredith called."
"Oh." Contrary to Peter, Liam had been told about the nature of Stiles' main
secretary. The boy didn't waste his breath by asking what exactly had happened,
because had Stiles or Isaac known, they would have told him, or at least
discussed it amongst themselves. Instead he reported what had happened at the
station. "Jordan will look into it, but with as little to go on as we have, he
doesn't have a lot of hope. Still it is better than nothing. Has anybody called
Mrs. McCall?"
Isaac turned around. "Why should we call Melissa?"
"Well, maybe it's something trivial, maybe Derek got into an accident and is at
the hospital, unconscious."
Clenching the steering wheel tighter, Stiles forced himself to breathe evenly
because he felt another panic attack on the horizon. Still, he didn't have time
to lose it right now, no matter how comforting the idea that Derek not being
with them was something as 'simple' as a car-accident.
"She would have told us." Isaac assured Liam. Still he pulled out his phone,
calling the hospital to get Melissa look into the new patients that had come in
today. If by any luck she had missed Derek coming in during the day, this would
be over. Still, nobody in the car had a lot of hope.
                                     ~ * ~
Stiles asked for updates on their way into the company, yet – as expected –
nobody had found anything. The pack was still on their way to talk to their
suppliers, contractors and people on the streets. And while Allison had found
the place of Derek's abduction, out of range of the last surveillance systems
of the industrial part of the city, but still not within reach of the first
traffic cameras, they didn't know where his captors had brought him because the
car seemed to have simply vanished.
Danny was currently looking into the videos he had obtained by less than legal
means, but nobody cared at the moment. Hacking into the public system was an
offense, but they would easily get out of that one, even if the hacker left
traces, which was highly unlikely. Legal matters were the last thing on Stiles'
mind at the moment, so he only encouraged Danny to dig deeper and give him a
report the moment he found something.
When the elevator opened to the management suite, Meredith was already
expecting Stiles, with her tablet clutched tight to her chest. She didn't say
anything, just offered it and a video started to play, showing Derek bound and
unconscious, with a phone number underneath. Stiles eyes started to blaze
golden with barely supressed rage and Liam and Isaac started whining when they
felt their Alpha pulling on their powers. The banshee facing the trio was the
one who broke the spell by slapping Stiles, making his head whip to the side.
"This is urgent!" she hissed at him, offering the company's phone. "Call them!"
No matter how humiliating it was to be slapped like a child with a temper
tantrum, it helped. So Stiles nodded gratefully and entered his office to
contact his hacker. "Danny, I need you to tap into the landline of the company.
We have a lead on Derek and I want you to trace my call."
When Danny gave Stiles the heads-up, the Alpha enforced the connection to the
entire pack before picking up the receiver. "Stiles Stilinski, to whom am I
speaking?"
The voice at the other end was terribly distorted, barely understandable. "At
sunrise, you will send one of your trucks to the address that will appear in
the folder with the video. Your driver will deliver it and leave. You will not
call the cops. You will not try to put a tracker on the truck otherwise your
lover is dead."
And before Stiles could ask a single question the line was disconnected.
"A truck?" Scott's unbelieving voice was the first that waved in on their
connection, Isaac had repeated everything Derek's kidnappers had said so that
everybody was on the same page. "Why would they need one of our trucks?"
"Stiles?" Lydia's calm voice cut through the agitated whispers of the pack,
instantly capturing everybody's attention. "You better come home. I just got
off the phone with Laura. You will need to hear what she told me."
"Do you think that they …?" Stiles started, unable to believe but not able to
dismiss the idea that the Hale-pack might have tried to take back what Talia
thought was hers.
"No," Lydia assured him. "But they might have a piece of the puzzle we are
solving right now."
                                     ~ * ~
***** Rescue Plans *****
Chapter Summary
     What it says on the tin.
Chapter Notes
     Since my betas Memprime and Wecantgiggleatacrimescene deem this
     chapter fit for consumption: enjoy :)
Within half an hour the entire pack was back at the house, holding council in
the dining room. The map of Beacon Hills Stiles has used for his useless
attempts at scrying was spread out on the dining table. Every pack-member gave
an overview of what they had discovered. Sadly it was little helpful. Stiles
briefly summarized what Meredith had told him since they had all been able to
eavesdrop on the phone-call.
Though nearly out of his mind with worry, Stiles couldn't help but grin briefly
when Peter finally gathered why Meredith had been working late.
Caring for paperwork that was not due for another week was a weak excuse. But
banshees usually made something up subconsciously to justify their pulls.
Stiles had learned not to question that because Meredith was unable to explain
and Lydia usually got snappy with him.
Looking at their latest pack-member, Stiles stated drily, "You figured it out."
Peter, nodded, but didn't raise his eyes. His wolf still insisted on appearing
submissive as to not unconsciously provoke their Alpha. The power Stiles had
displayed today only had driven the message home of how strong the spark really
was.
"Peter?"
Reluctantly Peter looked up, meeting warm, honey-brown eyes. "Nobody outside of
this room knows and we will keep it that way. Understood?"
Raising his chin in an attempt to appear strong, despite being well aware that
that every member of the pack was able to smell his uncertainty, Peter nodded.
"Understood"
Content with the answer, Stiles looked at his pack. "So, where do we go from
here?"
Lydia spoke next, sharing what she had heard from Laura. "The Hale-pack has
been contacted. Laura overheard her mother talking to someone. You know how
some packs have Omegas? Well, it seemed that someone was offering one; a human,
to be exact. One Talia could turn herself."
Scott growled briefly, but Erica and Boyd, who were standing next to him,
touched his shoulders, calming him. No wolf present enjoyed the idea of having
a pack-omega. Out in the wild, omegas rarely survived. Yet having someone
serving as their scapegoat didn't sit well with anybody. Ethan and Aiden rarely
shared their past, but when Deucalion had offered power, they had chosen to
kill their entire pack to gain it. It had been wrong to kill their Alpha, but
the way they had been forced to live had been horrible to begin with.
                                     ~ * ~
After Aiden had been brought to his knees by Stiles, they had been cautious;
afraid that the abuse would continue just under another pretence. But the
teenager had not even touched them for the first month. Stiles had been in no
hurry, content to let them approach him on their own time, just like every
other member of their pack. They had watched Scott brawl with his best friend,
had seen Lydia arguing with him when she hadn't shared his opinion. They had
seen Danny crawling into his lap when he wanted affection but in the end it had
been Boyd who had won them over. One night, the usually so subdued werewolf had
approached his human Alpha, eyes ablaze he had demanded a client to be beaten,
because he had severely injured one of their boys.
Whilst Erica had taken care of the wounded man, the male wolf had demanded
revenge. Stiles had granted it in the blink of an eye and when the wolf had
returned, knuckles bleeding, the human Alpha had just opened his arms for him
and cuddled with him for the rest of the night. The next day, Ethan had
approached Stiles tentatively. Aiden had lingered at the staircase watching the
exchange. Stiles had just smiled at the twin and pulled him into a hug, before
turning around and offering a hand to the sibling. From that evening on, the
twins had regularly claimed the place beside Stiles' armchair. Not because he
was forcing them to the floor, or because they thought themselves beneath him,
but simply because that was the position closest to their human Alpha and they
had enjoyed his affectionate touches.
                                     ~ * ~
Lydia just continued, as if the interruption had not happened. "Laura said that
Talia declined, but the thought of someone offering omegas didn't sit well with
her. When I called her tonight she told me about it."
"When did that happen?"
"Two days ago."
"Why should anybody offer humans to packs just to make them their scapegoat?"
Stiles pondered.
Looking at his friends nobody had an answer to that. Well, nobody but Peter who
spoke up after a few moments of silence. His voice had a nasty sneer to it as
if it was obvious. "Money of course."
Whipping around, focusing on Peter, Stiles demanded, "Explain!"
Peter did not flinch at that harsh command, at least not much. Instead he
composed himself, drawing strength from Isaac's comforting hand on his back,
laying out the concept. "Well, many packs are … more hierarchical than yours.
The Alpha is … he or she is defending the leading position by forcing their
pack to submit to them constantly. Yet few wolves are submissive by nature. If
you shove them down they have to find a way to balance. They have to dominate
over someone else or they … well, it doesn't go well if they can't find their
balance."
The werewolf had not even noticed that Isaac had shifted from his right to his
left. He only looked up when he felt Stiles' soft hand at his neck. The Alpha's
words were quiet and a little hesitant at first. "I never intended to shove you
down. I hope you know that."
Taking a deep breath, unable to keep himself from leaning into the touch, Peter
shook his head and looked at the human. "No, you were trying to anchor me."
Stiles pulled him closer, burying his face in Peter's neck, a gesture so very
wolf that Peter couldn't help but smile. The others started discussing their
options, leaving Peter and Stiles a moment to themselves. Quietly the teenager
mumbled into the wolf's skin, "I don't want to have to hurt you if you lose
control over your wolf again. But I can't have you hurt the pack either."
Mirroring Stiles' gesture, Peter buried his face in Stiles' neck, inhaling the
deep fear the human managed to hide so very well. For the first time Peter
realized that he had brought a situation upon his Alpha that terrified the
teenager as much as himself. Stiles had done the only thing he could think of
and despite frightening his wolf Peter could understand the ingenuity of the
gesture. "You scared my wolf into submission. It won't happen again."
Looking up, Stiles looked sombre. "I frightened you too and that's not how this
pack works."
Peter and Stiles couldn't hold back their chuckles when they heard Lydia
mumbling under her breath with a relieved "Finally!"
Looking at the girl who had made him lose control, Peter gazed back at Stiles.
"It does for now. At least until I find another anchor."
Nodding, Stiles let go of Peter and turned towards the map again. Still he
remained shoulder to shoulder with the werewolf. They both looked at the map,
trying to figure out where Derek was held and how to get him back.
                                     ~ * ~
Their best chance to get Derek back was to fulfil the demand for a truck and
lie in waiting, overwhelming the kidnappers when they came forth. Every last
member of the pack besides Liam was trained in using firearms. Therefore, they
could use tranquilizer darts and pick Derek's kidnappers off one by one while
remaining hidden themselves. If bad came to worst, Derek was a werewolf, he
could stand his ground for a few seconds. At least the pack hoped so.
Their well thought out plan, taking the area of the handover for the truck into
account, was rendered useless when Jordan used his earring around midnight. The
noise in the background indicated that the deputy was hiding in the restroom of
the station. "Is anybody listening?"
Sharing a glance, Stiles nodded at Danny. Even he could tell from these few
words that Jordan was anxious and Danny might have the best chance of calming
him down. "What's up, Jordan? Did you find a lead on Derek?" The incubus
radiated as much tranquillity as possible, helping the young man with his
agitation, all the while leaning into Ethan who had wrapped his arms around
him.
"No, it's just …," interrupting himself, the pack listened attentively until a
rush of water told them that another member of the Beacon Hills Police force
had just used the facilities and that Jordan was, in fact, hiding in the
toilet. After a few heartbeats the young man spoke again. "Agent McCall and a
team of agents will hit a warehouse in the outer skirts of Beacon Hills
tonight. The FBI suspects a human trafficking ring. The organization switches
bases for every trade and tonight is the only chance to catch them in Beacon
Hills. It has nothing to do with the family. You don't trade in humans, so I
didn't mention it before. But since you have had a demand for a truck to
deliver not far from there, I thought these two incidents might be related."
Clearly the broadcast of their war-council had reached the deputy as well.
Scott and Stiles were talking with one voice when they said, "There are no
coincidences." It was one of the most favourite catch phrases of Stiles' dad;
he had always reminded his son that if two incidents appeared to be related,
they most likely were if you only looked hard enough into them. His mother had
sometimes joked that John would have made a brilliant sheriff, but the mob-boss
who had helped his wife claim the region to establish the family business in
America had only laughed at the statement. Still, Stiles had learned a certain
way of thinking from his dad and now applied it to the current situation.
"When are they going to hit, Jordan?"
"An hour before sunrise."
"We have to get Derek out of there before than!" Liam spoke up, clearly
agitated by the new information.
Stiles pulled the pup into his arms, wrapping one arm around him from behind,
leaving the both of them free to look at the map. He marked the presumed
location of the human traffickers, noticing that it was back to back with the
address they had to deliver the truck to. Looking up at Lydia and then at Peter
because these two were brilliant at planning and extraordinarily ruthless when
necessary, he asked, "What do we do?"
"Coffee," Was Lydia's immediate answer.
"Black, two sugars," Peter's reply before looking up locking eyes with Lydia,
nodding quietly before she pulled traffic cameras, weather forecasts and
geographic date on her pad.
Liam looked around, clearly confused as to why the pack was filtering out of
the dining room and into the kitchen. Danny nudged him when he seemed rooted on
the spot. "You heard these two: coffee."
"Derek is in danger and we are brewing coffee?" Liam asked, his voice nearly
breaking.
Stiles, taking the coffee grounds from Scott, spooning them into the container,
explained, "Lydia is a brilliant strategist and Peter was Talia's enforcer for
nearly seven years. He has his own cold-blooded way of approaching tactical
situations we are lacking. This pack is comprised of extraordinary people. We
uphold our position by letting every one of us do what we do best."
Looking at his feet, slightly dejected, Liam whispered barely audible, "And
what about me?" Yes, the Stilinski-McCall pack was strong but for now all he
had added to the mix was trouble. He wanted to be able to offer something for
the rescue of a missing pack-member.
Leaving Scott to prepare the coffee, Stiles stepped up to the young teenager
and tenderly caressed his cheeks. "You are an extraordinarily good liar and
gathered us information vital to finding Derek. Without you talking to Jordan,
he would not even have thought about informing us about the raid that is about
to go down tonight. Don't underestimate yourself Liam, leave that to the rest
of the world. That makes you our biggest advantage."
Allison picked up the finished coffee, delivering it to the dining room,
joining Lydia and Peter's implementation of a strategy.
                                     ~ * ~
They arrived at the warehouse around three a.m. The humans were clad in leather
trousers and bullet-proofed vests, as was Liam. The boy had insisted on joining
them, so Stiles had made him wear a vest as well. Neither he nor Scott felt
particularly at ease with their pup being there, but it would be too cruel to
leave him behind. They all were armed and the communication-lines were open.
Sadly, at least for Stiles, who felt on the verge of a nervous breakdown due to
his inactivity, they first had to scout the parameter before figuring out was
going on inside. And while Danny had his laptop with him, nothing ever beat
good, old-fashioned spying, at least, not if you had werewolves with super-
senses on your side. In hushed whispers they shared information about what
seemed to be going on inside before they made their move.
Liam and Danny were staying outside with Lydia, since the girl might have
relented to carrying a weapon, but still she didn't feel comfortable with the
idea of firing it. They knew they were far ahead of the FBI but still halted in
their approach of the warehouse when they heard a car pulling up at the front.
They shared worried looks when the next engine came into hearing distance and
debated with themselves to pull back when more cars arrived. They stayed out of
sight of the warehouse, but the wolves heard what was going on nevertheless.
It seemed that Agent McCall had speed up their plans, because even with
reconnaissance, they were far ahead of schedule. Lydia confirmed that the FBI
had arrived when a tag-team approached the building, forcing the pack-members
into hiding. As a last resort, should they fail to free Derek, Stiles had
ordered a truck to stay on call, but they were planning of having their wolf
out far ahead of sunrise. Now, unwilling to betray their involvement to Scott's
dad, offering him further ammunition against the family, they hesitated as to
how to proceed. The roof was out of question since the FBI was setting up a
base on the warehouse next to them and these buildings had no cellar.
A brute force break-in was their best approach and luckily the locks on the
back-door didn't hold against Boyd forcing them open. Scott and the twins were
taking the lead, Stiles, Isaac and Peter slipped in behind them and Erica and
Boyd were last, since Boyd was the perfect shield against an attack from behind
and Erica was really, really fast in hand to hand combat as well as with a gun.
Sadly the scum who traded in humans had noticed the FBI and had gathered their
merchandise in one of the big rooms, using them as living shields. Derek was
still hidden, apparently they were aware that they needed him in exchange for
the truck and therefore deemed him more valuable. The pack was holding its
breath, torn if they should help the humans or saving their own pack-member.
Luckily Derek took the decision out of their hands by howling.
                                     ~ * ~
Once the humans were gone, Derek had no qualms about freeing himself from his
bonds. He was checking the borders of his prison, thinking about the best way
to escape, when the door beside him opened again. The attack was instinctual,
as was the person coming in shooting at him. He couldn't hold back the roar
when the bullet tore through his thigh, making him fall to his knees, clutching
his bleeding leg. He couldn't help but hiss angrily when he heard the guy above
him snicker.
"My, my, it seems we have found ourselves an omega without even meaning to."
The guy taunted him, letting his eyes glow a blazing blue, indicating that he
had no qualms about killing someone. It might be meant as a warning for Derek
to stand down, or to show that he was a wolf as well, since Derek's nature had
already been revealed by his howl.
Letting his supernatural abilities do their work, healing the wound, Derek
hissed angrily, "I am not an omega!"
Reaching for Derek's hair, the other wolf yanked his head back, while mocking
Derek. "Oh, no, of course you are not. You are a pet to a human businessman,
that's even worse. You deny your very nature to be a kept dog! Tell me, how
much is he paying you to play his bodyguard and letting him fuck you? We have
watched, we know that you are his, so it's useless to deny it, mutt."
A gun clocking at the door, caught both wolves' attention. Agent McCall's voice
was calm and steady when he ordered, "Step back, please. I don't want to have
to shoot you, but this man clearly needs medical attention and you are
surrounded. Better to give up now and not make it worse for yourself."
"Really?" the kidnapper sneered. "You think your petty weapons can do anything
against me?" Still, he threw Derek to the side, making the wolf suppress a
whine, when he was forced to put weight on his wounded leg. It seemed like the
bullet had gone right through. Werewolves could heal such a wound, but they
needed time. Time Derek didn't seem to have at the moment.
In the central room of the warehouse shooting could be heard and Agent McCall
repeated, "Lower your weapon and I will offer you a deal. But if this man dies
you will go to prison for the rest of your life." Slowly the agent tried to
approach Derek, but the kidnapper did not give an inch, turning so that he had
the Agent within his line of sight, dragging the injured wolf with him.
"You can't do anything to me. You are not allowed to use deadly force if
someone is neither endangering you or your team. So …" With a maniac grin, he
lowered his weapon to the floor and with a dawning sense of horror Derek could
see his claws lengthening.
Derek nearly burst out laughing with relief when Stiles, eyes blazing a bright
gold, entered the room. Scott and an armed Allison by his side. Peter slipped
in as well, as did Ethan and Aiden. Inhaling deeply, Derek could smell Isaac,
Erica and Boyd as well. Presumably they were close by, guarding the pack's
backs.
Stiles blinked once, forcing his magic down, now that he saw that Derek was not
life-threateningly injured nor had been tortured. His tone was dry when he
responded to the kidnaper's statement. "He can't, but I am another matter
entirely. Allison."
At that request, the huntress pulled back her bow, allowing the dim light to
reflect on the silver arrow-head she had chosen for tonight.
Holding his ground, but getting nervous, the werewolf accused Stiles. "You are
bluffing. We have done our research, you are nothing but an aspiring kid with a
family of misfits. You won't harm me."
Sneering, Peter stated drily, approaching his bleeding nephew at a subtle
gesture from Stiles, not showing the slightest hint of fear. "Clearly, your
research is lacking."
The bold attempt seemed to set off the guy, yet instead of attacking Peter his
eyes blazed blue when he jumped the Agent who was still between him and the
door. He pulled the man in front of his body, using him as a human shield.
His claws grazed over Rafael McCall's neck when he roared, "Pull back, all of
you. I will leave now and you won't stop me!"
Clearly he had not thought this through, since the only way out was through the
door that was currently blocked by the pack. Still, Stiles did as he requested,
stepping aside, gesturing for his pack to do the same. "Calm down, let go of
the Agent and we will let you leave."
"You can't!" Rafael started, but was interrupted by Stiles coldly.
"You don't even have a clue of what you have gotten yourself into. It would be
best if you shut up now and leave this to me."
"Make them leave! All of them!" The guy growled viciously and the chance to get
Scott's father out of this alive made Stiles nod his head and gesture for the
pack to exit the room. At a short glance even Allison was retreating but kept
her bow pointed at the guy until the very last second. Peter helped Derek to
stand, and together they shuffled towards the exit. Quietly Stiles raised his
hand and approached the kidnapper. "See, they are all leaving. Now let go of
Agent McCall and we can show you out."
Gesturing towards Scott who had not moved an inch, Stiles informed him quietly.
"The man you are holding hostage is his father. I don't expect him to move
until Agent McCall is safe."
"You are fools if you think he will ever be safe again!" The other wolf sneered
and raised his hand to gain enough momentum to dramatically slash the FBI
Agent's throat. Peter was too wrapped up with his nephew to intervene. Scott
and Stiles however weren't. Eyes blazing like the fiery pits of hell, Scott
transformed and howled, making every wolf in the room flinch back and cower.
Stiles however stood steady at his friend's side, pulling his weapon before the
howl had ended, shooting the attacking werewolf right through the head.
For the duration of a heartbeat, nobody dared to breathe, Agent McCall
included. The guy looked at his fully transformed son, took in his canines, the
fur that had sprouted on his face, the shift in his features and the black
claws that seemed ready to tear the man apart who now lay lifeless by his side.
Turning his head slightly he could see two more sets of eyes looking at him.
Though Peter and Derek were only partially shifted, due to Scott's call, they
looked far from human, more like characters right out of a horror story with
their gleaming red and blue eyes.
Gazing at the door, Agent McCall realized that several sets of amber and blue
eyes were glowing in the darkness. All eyes were on him and all of a sudden he
felt like prey in a room of predators. Slowly raising his hands into a
defensive position he took a step back, than another, asking hoarsely, "Are all
of you monsters?"
Stiles looked at the man who had abandoned both his wife and child for a second
before reaching back to take the gun Allison was holding out for him. Stepping
up to the partially transformed wolf on the floor, Stiles took another shot
right in the guy's face, finishing him off with a wolfsbane bullet before
replying. "Yes, Agent McCall, in one way or the other, every person in this
room is a monster. But only some of us shift on a full moon."
                                     ~ * ~
***** Monsters *****
Chapter Summary
     In one way or the other, they all are monsters. Now let's see how
     they deal with each other.
Chapter Notes
     Thanks to Wecantgiggleatacrimescene and Memprime.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Before Agent McCall could think of a reply, Stiles turned around and ordered,
"Help the TAC team. I doubt that this guy was the only wolf. Be discreet, we
don't want to get involved in this."
"You …," The Agent tried to find his footing again, but before he could say
anything, the door to the room closed behind the pack. Stiles took care of
Derek, so Scott was the last one to stay behind with his father and a dead
werewolf who had by now shifted into wolf-form. Scott was aware that he had to
get rid of the body. But still his father's comment had stung more than it
should. The bitten werewolf had told himself time and time again that he didn't
need a father who had abandoned him when he was young. That he didn't care for
the opinion of a guy who had left his mother to care alone for her asthmatic
child and the medical bills that came with it. But still.
"Is that really what you see, a monster?" Scott's voice was calm, not betraying
any emotion, at least not to a human observer.
"Yes, of course. No! Scott, I …," Overwhelmed by the situation, Rafael McCall
ran his hand through his short hair. He tried to think of something, but came
up empty.
Dejected but too proud to let it show, Scott lifted the dead wolf on his
shoulders and gestured for his father to follow him. Finding a place in the
shadows, the Agent got a chance to watch his team taking out the traffickers.
Although now that he knew what to look for, he was able to spot the members of
the Stilinski family, supporting them by driving the enemies towards them while
hiding in the shadows. Only once did he spot Peter Hale, whispering to one of
the victims, offering a business card, before dashing away, without one of
McCall's agents noticing him.
Once the traffickers were in custody (his son had left without a word) Agent
McCall joined his team again, after having helped with a last escapee that was
caught before he could make it through the door. The men were securing the
culprits, preparing them for transport, when Agent McCall tried to speak with
the victims. It was difficult at first, but soon he found a person who was
willing and able to talk to him. With his chin lifted proudly, the guy stated
in somewhat broken English, that their group – they were about a dozen
altogether – was meant to come to Beacon Hills to work for the Red Hood Trading
company.
Flabbergasted, the Agent asked for clarification, but got no more than the
victims insisting that they had come for legal work. In the end he didn't have
a choice but to wait until morning. When he called the company he heard from a
tired sounding Isaac, apparently he was one of the secretaries of Red Hood,
that, "Yes we are waiting for workers from Mexico. They were supposed to take
care of personal deliveries to the south.” The young man was even ready to fax
immigration documents and visas to the police department. How the Stilinski
family had come up with papers that held under check-up, McCall couldn't say.
He was forced to let these people depart with members of a known crime family.
But he had to admit, at least to himself, that this would provide them with far
better lives than going back home.
                                     ~ * ~
Derek's increased healing process, in combination with a make-shift wrap around
his injured leg made it possible for the pack to sniff out the few kidnappers
who had gotten away. The FBI didn't look for them because they hadn't known
about the exact number of people involved. For the pack it was easy to follow
the trail of blood, fear and gunpowder. They cornered them at the edge of their
territory and though the humans tried to appeal to their good will, promising
to find new humans for their service, Stiles cut them off viciously. Human
trafficking was an atrocity, one his father would have never partaken in, and
Stiles did not plan to change that.
The Don of the Stilinski family was ready to scare them away from his land when
one of the traffickers made one last, desperate move. Pulling a weapon nobody
had spotted because it had not been fired, he took aim at Stiles and shot him
without hesitation. Nobody could tell why anybody would think it wise to shoot
the ringleader of an attacking group - the chances for them to get killed for
such a move only increased with bloodshed, but humans didn't tend to react
cleverly when they were cornered. Isaac, with his swift reactions, had already
hugged Stiles from behind, turning him around so that the werewolf's body was
between Stiles and the bullet. Derek however, hadn't noticed the motion, since
he was standing slightly in front of them.
In one, desperate move he jumped in front of the shooter to intercept the
bullet meant for his lover. Unfortunately, his wounded leg made him a tick to
slow so the bullet caught the left side of his chest, pushing him back so that
he landed right in front of Isaac's feet. The last thing Derek saw was Stiles
wrenching himself free of his enforcer's hold, breaking down next to Derek. To
an anguished screaming of his name Derek lost consciousness.
                                     ~ * ~
The twins were the ones who picked up their workers, right from the police
station the next day. They looked tired and worried with blood-shot eyes like
they had not slept at all. Neither of them mentioned Stiles or what had
happened the night before. They just confirmed the new living arrangements for
the immigrants and calmed the people by talking to them in Spanish, making them
understand where they were about to go. It seemed that they were actually about
to live the American dream.
Right before their departure, the taller twin stated quietly, not even looking
at Agent McCall who supervised the pick-up. "Your son is at home. Don't make
him wait too long."
Once on the road, Ethan asked his twin, "Why did you encourage him?"
Not meeting his brother's eyes, Aiden concentrated on the road, but was forced
to admit, when a gentle nudge from his brother proved that Ethan wouldn't let
this one go, "Because Scott is hurting, we all can feel it. And this time,
Stiles won't be the one to fix him. Someone had to do something."
                                     ~ * ~
Even with this 'encouragement', it took Rafael McCall two days to approach the
lion's den and even when he got there after work, he hesitated at the door.
What tipped the scale in favour of approaching the house was Melissa coming
home and rummaging through the trunk, picking up heavy looking bags.
Remembering his manners, he offered a hand. His former wife looked at him for a
few heartbeats.
"Took you long enough," she said, before pushing two into his arms, reaching
for the last one.
Before she could even pull out her keys, Isaac opened the door for. Still the
curly haired boy blocked the entry, glaring at Agent McCall, until Melissa
reminded him, "Scott is waiting for him."
Rafael McCall thought he could hear a sub vocal growl, but Isaac let him pass.
The Agent flinched slightly when Isaac flashed his blue eyes as Rafael walked
past. The man absolutely did not turn around again, though having a predator at
his back did not sit well with him. He calmed considerably when he heard
Melissa reminding the predatory teenager a soft voice, "I know Scott is hurt,
but he is his father. Give him a chance."
Hanging his head like a scolded puppy, Isaac relieved Melissa of her burden,
following the Agent into the kitchen. The teenager started to unpack the
groceries, leaving some on the counter. After that was done and the bags were
stashed away, Isaac took a deep breath and looked at the Agent who clearly
didn't know what to do with himself. His wife seemed to take far too much joy
from his uncertainty to be of any help.
Rafael did not want to stay in this kitchen with a hostile mon… person, but as
little did he want to turn his back on it … him, either. A moment later, Scott
and Allison entered from the side. For a moment, nobody said anything before
Isaac spoke up. "You hurt him and I will rip your throat out." Scott snickered
a little at his boyfriend's comment, only to receive a small kiss on the cheek
from his girlfriend, before Allison mirrored Melissa's position beside Isaac,
placing a hand on his back to indicate her support. Smiling sweetly she added,
"And I will help him hide your body. So chose your next words carefully, Mr.
McCall."
His name was spoken in a sneer as if both Isaac and Allison thought of him as
nothing more than vermin. But at the moment, Rafael couldn't think about this.
His son was … something else and they had to talk about it. It was Melissa who
broke the tension, prompting her men, "Why don't you use Stiles' office. I am
sure he wouldn't mind. The two of you have a lot to talk about."
                                     ~ * ~
After seeing the pictures on the door, Rafael sneered, "Aren't you afraid that
Stiles will put you on a leash if you say anything unsavoury about him in his
own office?"
No longer bothering to hold back, Scott let his eyes flash red and approached
his father. "And what kind of unsavoury things would I have to say about my
best friend? The boy who had held my hand and helped me breathe through my
asthma attacks in elementary school after you abandoned us. The guy who
introduced me to the family who took care of me when mum worked double,
sometimes triple shifts at the hospital to keep up with my medical bills. The
friend who helped me learn control, despite me wounding him on my first full
moon. Stiles never did wrong by me. Contrary to you!"
Retreating half a step before finding his footing again, Rafael shot back, "Oh
yes, such saints your best friend and his family. John Stilinski got his own
live-in nurse out of this deal. And Stiles has you on such a tight leash that
you don't even see the horrible things he has done! He's a killer and a pimp
and a drug-dealer and more dead people go on his account than on some guys we
have in federal prison. And he is only eighteen!"
Scott full on snarled at that. All of a sudden Lydia was between him and his
father, who had retreated into the corner of the office. The girl, who had been
doing research in the dining room, must have followed them and hovered outside
the door to be there so quickly, obviously anticipating him losing his temper
with this jerk who had sired him. Still, no matter what, the werewolf was
infinitely grateful to her because she kept him from approaching his father. In
a determined voice she told him, " Scott, calm down. He's afraid, even I can
see that. Take a deep breath and concentrate. He makes this about Stiles
because he doesn't know how to deal with you, with what you are. And that's
okay, because this is a lot to take in. That's why you have to help him!"
"Why?" Scott snarled, leaning against the small girl, taking in her relentless
strength, grounding himself in it while glaring at his father. He was so angry
and so very hurt by his father's reaction. He didn't want to listen to reason,
not when facing one of the two persons in this world who should love him, no
matter what. Why had John been able to do that but not Rafael?
Looking up at Scott, hugging him tightly, offering the support of the pack, she
whispered quietly, "Because he is your father. Don't let him leave just because
of your pride. You will regret it. Think of John."
Hugging the girl who had always shown strength exciding her tiny frame, the
werewolf buried his face in Lydia's strawberry blonde curls and inhaled deeply.
She smelled like love and affection and care and not the slightest bit scared,
despite him still having his claws out. When Scott nodded after pulling back,
Lydia left the office.
She was right, no matter how little Scott liked it. John had been more of a
father figure to him than Rafael for the last ten years and Scott knew that
there were a lot of things he had wanted to tell the man. He didn't even want
to imagine how Stiles felt. His own father was right here, right now. Maybe he
was worth the chance.
Lydia knew that these two men needed a meditator, but she was the wrong woman
for the job. Peeking into the kitchen Lydia asked, "Mrs. McCall, I think your
family needs you."
                                     ~ * ~
Scott took a deep breath and looked at his father. He knew that Stiles would do
everything in his power to get John back, as would Lydia and every other member
of the pack whose parents had turned on them for what they were or what they
had done.
Maybe he could use this chance to talk about everything that had happened in
his life ever since his dad had left them. But he couldn't stand his father
calling him a monster. That was the worst thing imaginable for Scott, because
he was well aware of how close he had been to becoming one on the night of his
first full moon.
He was relieved when his mother walked in, looking at him and immediately
reaching for his furry hand. She gazed from Scott to Rafael and back again.
"Why are you shifted, Scott? What's going on here?"
Shrugging, Scott looked at his father, "I'm just showing dad what kind of
monster his son is."
Rafael flinched at the hurt in Scott's voice when he repeated that particular
accusation. But this was nothing compared to the bewilderment he felt when
Melissa slapped Scott right in the face. Not very hard, just enough to prove
her displeasure; pulling her son out of his vicious mind-set. Angrily she
pointed at Scott. "NOBODY has the right to call my son a monster, not even he.
You would do very good to remember that, young man. You are a werewolf, not a
beast. Are we clear?"
Scott looked at his mother like a scolded child, before Melissa pulled him into
her arms. Quietly she assured him, "What you are depends on what you do. And we
both know that you have not done a bad deed in your entire life. So don't
colour yourself that way, I don't like it."
Shaking his head, seeing the easy and fearless interaction between his wife and
his transformed son, Rafael asked. "How can you think that, when our son is a
member of a known crime family?"
Hugging her son's waist, Melissa looked at her former husband. "How can I not
say it, when I know how Scott deals with his people?"
Frustrated about this verbal smack-down that, in the end, did not even contain
the faintest trace of an explanation, Rafael snapped, "I don't understand."
Grateful for his mother's support, Scott took a deep breath, then another
before he was calm enough to shift back. His eyes now mirrored those of his
father when he nodded calmly. "We know. The question is: do you want to, or do
you want to turn around and leave again?"
Aware that this might be the one, the only chance, he would ever get of getting
his family back, McCall shook his head. "I don't want to leave."
Gesturing towards the sofa, Melissa asked, "Then why don't we take a seat? This
might take a while."
                                     ~ * ~
The owner of the office currently inhabited by the McCalls, sat at a bed in the
intensive care unit of the Beacon Hills Hospital. The room was nice, beige
walls with two bright paintings. Peter and Ethan were standing guard outside
the door, having just replaced Erica and Boyd who were on their way to work.
Still, the only thing Stiles could think about was the constant beeping of the
heart monitor and the numerous tubes and wires that helped Derek to breathe and
monitored his vitals.
Stiles was not ashamed to admit that he lost it a bit the second Derek had hit
the floor, pushed back by the force of the bullet that had entered his heart.
True it had not been wolfsbane, but the damage it had done, in combination with
the blood-loss from the earlier shot, had been devastating. Lydia had called
Melissa and Dr. Deaton. Together they had commandeered an operation room and a
suit for Derek's recovery. The director of the hospital had ranted about proper
procedure until Lydia had shut him up with a generous donation for their
pediatric unit.
One of Katerina's vampires, who worked the night-shifts as an anesthetist and
nurse had offered his help, and together the three had operated on Derek's
heart for several hours. Stiles had wanted to call for a specialist but Lydia,
who had remained his rock in this hurricane, making level-headed decisions, had
reminded him that there really was not better 'specialist' for a werewolf than
Dr. Deaton. No human could ever understand the complexities of supernatural
anatomy, no matter how good he was on his field of expertise.
Stiles had shouted at her, had accused her of only thinking about the money, of
making the best choices for the family but not for Derek. She had held her
ground stoically. Had allowed his hurtful words wash over her without causing
any pain; aware that he did not mean a single one of them until Stiles had
broken down, dissolving into tears.
She had then guided him towards one of the uncomfortable sofas in the waiting
room. Had held him when he had hugged her waist, crying bitter tears,
alternating between apologizing to her and admitting how very, very scared he
was for Derek's life.
The pack had joined them after taking care of the dead bodies they had left
behind. None of the fleeting werewolves and humans had survived the pack's
wrath, after Derek had nearly been killed by one of their guns. The teenagers
had slowly filtered into the quiet waiting room. Stiles had been at the end of
his strength. Scott had claimed the corner of the couch, pulling his best
friend into his arms, while the rest of the pack had chosen positions on the
backrest of the sofa or on the floor in front of him, all touching their human
Alpha to offer support.
The sun had already risen when Dr. Deaton and Melissa finally found them. While
the vampire had made it past sunrise because he had been needed in the
operating room, he had been dead on his feet as soon as Derek was stitched up.
Thralls of his clan had brought him home in a special vehicle. Sadly, the
veterinarian and the nurse could not offer more encouragement than the bleak
information that Derek had survived the operation. Now all they could do was
wait for him to wake up.
Two days later, he still had not woken, because for whatever conceivable
reason, Derek was not healing.
                                     ~ * ~
Chapter End Notes
     Sneak-peak of the next chapter. (So you won't tar and feather me.) We
     will start with:
     "Derek was woken by some kind of annoying beeping."
***** Who will protect my heart? *****
Derek was woken by some kind of annoying beeping. He tried to tell Stiles to
turn off his stupid phone or at least chose another, less obnoxious wake-up
tone, but his mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton and he could not
make a sound. Too tired to care he closed his eyes again and returned to sleep.
                                     ~ * ~
The next time angry words that interrupted his slumber. Was it really too much
to ask for a few hours of undisturbed rest? When he opened his eyes, they felt
as like lead. He could see Meredith with a white suit and a dark-blue shirt in
her hands. She was shaking the clothes frustrated, tried to make Stiles take
them, but the Alpha refused.
In a superhuman effort, Derek turned his head a little. He could not remember
what they had done that had gotten him so tired, but he couldn't muster the
energy to care. Stiles seemed to be in a similar condition because his
complexion was pale. His hair looked greasy as if he had not had time for a
shower in several days. His movement was sluggish, far from the energized self,
Derek had fallen in love with.
When he closed his eyes again, nightmares brought him unbelievable pain. A
scene in the local woods repeated itself over and over again in the young man's
head. And with the dreams came the fear: him being a tick too slow or too fast,
too far away or simply not able to protect Stiles from the projectile. To see
him tired and worn but generally in good health had been slightly calming.
Derek tried to call for him. To offer a side of the bed for his lover to get
some sleep, but before he could even lift his arm, sleep pulled him under
again.
                                     ~ * ~
The third time Derek regained consciousness, there was a white separator at the
foot of his bed. Peter was hovering beside his bed and Isaac was standing in
the corner. Both wore business attire. Derek noticed them to be armed and when
Isaac turned his head to look at Peter, the werewolf noticed the earbud.
Turning his head towards the only part of the room within his line of sight,
Derek saw Stiles. His Alpha looked better. He had showered, been groomed and
was now properly dressed in the white suit Meredith had brought to him. The
young man was adored with the business attire, suitable for the head of the
Stilinski crime family. His body language supported that theory.
Stiles was talking to someone out of Derek's line of sight. He determined yet
detached when he shook his head and gestured 'no'. A small argument broke out
that Derek couldn't follow. Why did his head feel like it was filled with wool?
Something was distinctively not right here. Stiles was working, as were Isaac
and Peter, but Derek was lying in bed, hurting, as he realized for the first
time. But before he could follow this train of thought, tiredness overwhelmed
him and he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. At least the obnoxious
beeping had ended. What a relief.
                                     ~ * ~
The last time he woke up he felt something wetting his fingers. When he looked
down, he noticed Stiles holding his right hand. The one without the tubes in
it. The teenager had a firm grip that bordered on being painful, whispering
into Derek's skin while tears were running from his eyes. Not even Derek's
advanced hearing helped him to understand, but before he could gather the
strength to say something Melissa McCall entered. Silently she checked his
charts and prompted Stiles to at least get something to eat from the cafeteria
if he didn't want to go home. Realizing how famished Stiles looked, Derek
considered this a good advice.
Still the teenager shook his head. Barely turning his head he told Melissa in a
broken voice, "I can't leave. What if he wakes up? He should wake up any moment
now. He has been asleep for far too long."
Derek noticed the nurse gently rubbing circles over Stiles' back and this was
one of the rare times Derek noticed, that Stiles did not look like the leader
of a crime family, but like a desperate, eighteen year old boy who was at the
end of his strength. All this because of him? Slowly Derek's sluggish mind
provided him with details of what had happened. The last thing he could
remember was the suffocating feeling when he had seen that trafficker pulling
his gun. All of a sudden every last one of his nightmares had resurfaced. If
Stiles got shot he would be responsible for the destruction of yet another
family. Because without a shadow of doubt the werewolf knew, the Stilinski-
McCall pack would not survive without Stiles as their Alpha. Something must
have happened though, because the pain Derek felt did not belong to Stiles.
He was somewhat comforted by Melissa's words when she the teenager, "Deaton
checks him every day. He said that the wound was life-threatening and that
Derek's body preserves his energy to stay alive before he is ready to heal. It
was a shock to his system so you have to give him time. He is stable, that's
all that matters."
"What if he …," Stiles started, turning his head again to look at Derek. His
eyes went big when he realized that the werewolf had finally woken. Tentatively
he breathed, "Derek?"
Derek wanted to say something. Tell Stiles that he should leave and get
something to eat, for the both of them preferably. Yet all he managed to croak
out was, "Stiles."
He tried to lick his lips, to wet his parched throat, but that didn't work very
well. Gratefully he accepted Melissa offer of an ice-chip on a spoon. Derek
nearly groaned, sinking back into the cushions, enjoying the cool water running
down his throat. Nothing in his life had ever tasted that good and immediately
he hoped to receive more. But instead of Melissa, Stiles was now the one to
offer the frozen treat and during the next quarter of an hour, Derek consumed
two dozen ice-chips, slowly working his way up to a cup of water.
Stiles was crying the whole time, but laughing as well. He shared what had
happened in-between his emotional outbursts. By the time there was a soft knock
on the door that indicated that someone else besides Melissa wanted to enter,
Derek was up to speed. He had been asleep for more than a week, and now that he
seemed more or less alright again, Deaton wanted to perform another checkup to
make sure his healing process was how it was supposed to be.
The doctor asked for Stiles to leave, but at the small noise of distress from
Derek, the human reached for his lover's hand and shook his head. Clutching the
werewolf's fingers, he stepped out of the way, but he did not let go.
When Deaton was through, telling them that Derek was on his way to make a full
recovery, the rest of the pack burst through the door. It seemed that – when
hearing from Melissa that Derek had finally woken – they had dropped whatever
they had done and driven to the hospital. Overwhelmed by the sheer mass of
people in his room, Derek could not suppress a giggle when each and every one
of them touched him, scented him and anchored him to make up for the lost time.
Danny was the last to approach him, and after throwing Stiles a questioning
look, he hovered right over Derek's face. With a brilliant smile, he demanded,
"Take a deep breath," brushing his lips the wolf's.
When Derek opened his mouth he could feel the power the incubus was sharing.
Danny tasted like sunshine and spring-water, like relief and a joy so deep that
it made Derek weep. Tears were running down his cheeks when the incubus pulled
back. Tenderly Danny brushed over Derek's cheeks and breathed another kiss over
the werewolf's forehead, whispering relieved, "We are so glad that you are
better. Don't ever do something like this again."
Invigorated by Danny's energy but quite overwhelmed by everything that had
happened, Derek tried his best to smile. "I will try my best."
The werewolf didn't like to admit that he was a little relieved when Stiles
shooed the pack out again. He loved his new family, he really did, but this
moment they were too overwhelming. Only Stiles remained, offering him a cup of
sweet juice before reclaiming his seat. Derek exhaled exhaustedly before
looking at his Alpha.
With a serious expression, Stiles nodded towards the door. "Danny is right, you
know. You must never, ever try something like this again!"
For a moment, Derek wanted to interpret the emotion in Stiles' voice as
affection, a love so deep it only showed when the boy was looking at Scott and
Melissa. But the born wolf could never allow himself such a delusion. Stiles
wanted him, in his life, in his bed, to wish for more was futile. So Derek
slowly lifted his hand; Danny's energy really was doing wonders for his
healing, he could even feel the muscles and fibers knit together already;
caressing Stiles' cheek tenderly. With a quiet chuckle, Derek reminded him,
"You can find another wolf to protect your body should I not make it one day.
The position of the bodyguard comes with quite a heavy occupational hazard."
Anger and sadness poured off of Stiles before his scent changed into something
infinitely sweeter. Capturing Derek's hand again, the boy shook his head and
stated quietly, "I have eight wolves to protect my body.  But without you, who
will protect my heart?"
For a moment Derek's could not breathe, could not even look at Stiles because
this … this sounded too much like a declaration of love. Yet the werewolf was
aware that he could not jump to conclusions. Kate had said similar things, had
implied heavily but never said it to bend Derek to her will. And how far had he
gone for her. He had nearly destroyed his entire family, just because he had
naively believed in a few, well chosen implications.
Stiles, however, remained hovering at Derek's side. He studied the face of his
lover, reminding himself what he knew about his wolf when he saw the joy and
the pain and the hope and the sadness wash over his face in quick succession,
nearly faster than he could identify them. He did not want Derek to have any
lingering doubt. His wolf deserved better. When Derek kept his eyes closed,
Stiles pulled their joint hands to his lips and placed the most adoring kiss on
every single one of Derek's knuckles.
The teenager's voice was quiet, but serious when he stated, "I love you, Derek.
The last week of seeing you here, being forced to work despite you not lying
ten feet away from me, because business could not wait, was the most horrible
in my entire life, ever since my parents died. I do never, ever want to go
through this again, so promise me. Promise me, Derek, that you will never do
something like this again, because I won't survive losing you."
Clutching Derek's hand tighter when the wolf stared at him, seemingly not able
to understand, Stiles repeated himself. "I love you Derek, with all my heart."
Derek opened his mouth. He needed to formulate a reply. He needed to say
something, anything, but all that came out was a pitiful croak. Helpfully,
Stiles reached for the juice again, and offered more, but Derek was not
thirsty. Sensing his love's turmoil over what he had just said, Stiles gently
stroke his face and assured him, "It's alright if you don't feel the same,
Derek. I have been in love with you for such a long time, ever since High
School, even though I knew that you were far out of my league. I took what you
offered, because I know that this is all I can get."
The human lovingly brushed over the werewolf's forehead, untangling a few dark
strands. "I am well aware that it is only your wolf who likes me. You said so
yourself. Your human side doesn't have feel the say way, that's alright. I can
understand the whole 'animal alter ego' part. And when I say I can't lose you,
I am not talking about a weird stalker notion. I just want you to be alive and
happy. And if you find someone who your human and animal sides are in agreement
on, someone else to be happy with, you will let you go. I promise. I just …"
And all of a sudden, Derek knew what to say. Knew the right words to end
Stiles' babbling, and with the most brilliant smile, he interrupted his
boyfriend. "I love you too."
"I … What?"
Stiles looked like a fish out of water and under different circumstances, Derek
would have laughed at him. But right now, there was nothing ridiculous about
Stiles beautiful mole-dotted face, so Derek reached out for the boy and managed
to pull him close, whispering against his lips. "There are no sides. My wolf
and I are in agreement you. I love you, with all my heart," before sealing them
with a kiss.
Derek could not help but laugh, when they both heard the cheering and the wolf-
whistles through the wall. Apparently the pack outside had lingered and
listened in on their conversation.
Melissa had a hard time keeping them out, and both Stiles and Derek could hear
Isaac's fake-wounded voice when he declared, "So we are all but expandable to
our esteemed leader, as long as he's got Derek. I am wounded Stiles. Do you
hear me?" He repeated louder, despite Stiles hearing him perfectly fine through
the open door, "Wounded! And I demand a token of your affection to prove to me
that I am still in your heart."
Kissing Derek's lips once again, just because he could, Stiles pulled back and
shouted, "You can borrow my first edition of Spiderman, but I want it back in
my office by the time Derek returns home."
"Awesome!" Isaac rejoiced.
That, however, opened the door to more, similar demands and after ten minutes
the pack had distributed Stiles' carefully guarded comic collection amongst
themselves.
When they came to the Avengers, Derek growled, "They are mine!"
But Ethan replied joyfully, "You get Stiles! You don't need comic books for the
imminent future."
Unable to dispute that, Derek smiled at the Alpha and nodded. "Yea, I guess
that's right. Compared to Stiles, everything else is just a consolation prize."
Stiles smiled brilliantly at that statement, but pulled back dutifully, when
Melissa placed a tray on Derek's bedside table, offering some chicken stew.
Usually, she would not even think about bringing something like meat to a
recovering patient. Wolves however, were carnivores, so she knew that mashed
potatoes were not an option. Grateful to have something to satisfy his
grumbling stomach, Derek sipped polished off every last piece of meat.
Satisfied, warm and happy, he was yawning again when the dishes were taken
away. Now that his body was properly fuelled all he needed was sleep to speed
up the healing process.
Still, when he saw Stiles pulling an armchair closer, he realized that sleeping
alone wouldn't be enough from now on. Once Melissa was gone, Derek untangled
himself from all the tubes and monitors, something that brought the nurse back
immediately. But since he didn't need the monitors any longer, she agreed to
take them away.
Once Derek had relieved himself, with Stiles' help because he was still weak on
his legs, and had brushed his teeth, he felt bone-tired again. So he lay back
down on one side of the bed, making room for another person. Derek could see
that it was barely seven p.m., but couldn't keep his eyes open a moment longer.
Stiles too looked in dire needed of a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. So he
lifted the blanked invitingly and Stiles took his fair share of the bed, after
removing his shoes and shirt. Ethan and Aiden were hovering outside, making
sure that nobody would disturb their rest.
Once his boyfriend, his partner, had claimed a place in Derek's bed, the wolf
tentatively placed his head on Stiles' chest. Until now he had always avoided
this position. In the past the heartbeat of his lovers had distracted him from
finding any sleep. But with Stiles things were different. Derek knew that he
could pick out Stiles' heartbeat from hundreds of people, and though he could
even hear the slightest irregularities the way he lay, he whispered, "I love
you," since this was the day to lay all of his cards out.
Derek took a shuttering breath, hearing Stiles' heartbeat remaining steady when
he too mumbled tiredly, "And I love you. Now sleep, my love. Tomorrow, will
might be able to go home."
The werewolf could only nod, yet the wetness seeping out of his eyes betrayed
his overflowing emotions.
After a little while, when it became apparent that none of the two could find
any sleep, Stiles asked, "Why, Derek?" The teenager was well aware of the
abilities of wolves to hear his heartbeat. He also knew how miniscule
irregularities could betray a lie, irregularities Derek would pick up that much
easier with his head on Stiles' chest.
"I'm sorry." The wolf replied quietly, burying his face in Stiles undershirt.
He was aware of how stupid it was, testing someone who had no advantage from
lying to him but still …
He had always allowed himself certain illusions. With Kate – though he had not
even realized it at the time – he had believed in her commitment. With his one-
night stands, he had accepted their words of affection despite knowing them to
be white lies. But with Stiles, it would devastate him to sense a lie. Just
this once he had to be sure, even at the risk of angering his Alpha.
Stiles did not smell upset or angry, as Derek had been afraid off. The teenager
carded his fingers through Derek's strands affectionately, holding him close
while assuring him. "I love you, Derek. And I will say it as often as needed,
until you can believe me. We have all the time in the world, because from this
day on, I am never going to let you go."
Pulling himself tighter towards his human, Derek buried his face in Stiles'
chest. For the first time since Kate, he felt like he could breathe. And
finally sank into a deep, restful sleep.
                                     ~ * ~
***** Social Workers *****
Chapter Summary
     Liam asked in a whisper, "Will they take me away?"
Chapter Notes
     Playing the Sheriff has to have consequences.
     Thank you very much Wecantgiggleatacrimescene and Memprime who help
     me to groom this story and make it fit for your esteemed eyes. Have
     fun!
Two days after finally regaining his senses, Derek was allowed to leave the
hospital. He was not completely healed by any means, but the scent of medicine
and the unfamiliar surroundings drove his wolf up the wall. Stiles being with
him constantly helped a little, but the werewolf was aware of how much strain
the Alpha put on the pack by staying away from home. Since Derek would heal on
his own, Deaton had allowed his dismissal. Under the condition, of course, that
Derek would rest.
Liam enjoyed this new situation. He liked having someone around when he came
home from school who had time for him. Yet the next day after Derek's
discharge, the boy found a note on their refrigerator saying that lunch was in
the oven and that Derek would return in an hour. They were out of milk, bread,
ham and worst of all: ice cream! Grinning at the picture that Derek had
sketched under the note – a shaggy wolf carrying a basket – the young teenager
grabbed a slice of meat loaf before retreating to his room. Manners were
something that happened when the whole family was together.
It was uncommon for the teenager to be home alone, usually someone was coming
home from work or on their way to a job, hustling about before disappearing
again. But since he knew that those who worked for Red Hood would return
between five and six, if Derek got held up, it didn’t bother him. Stiles had
assured him repeatedly that there was no safer place for him than the house.
Not only because it was the home of a (more or less) known crime-lord, but
because Stiles had drawn wardens onto their walls to keep out most of the
supernaturals that inhabited their city. The boy huffed in annoyance when half
an hour into his studies the door-bell rang.
Liam rolled his eyes and reached for the ear-piece, "Alright boys and girls,
which one of you forgot your keys?" while he was bouncing down the stairs,
taking two at a time.
Confused mumbling made him slow down before he reached the lobby. Scott's
question made him freeze entirely, "Why are you asking?"
"Because there is someone at the door?"
Alarmed Scott ordered, "Liam stop!"
At the same time Stiles insisted, "Don't open the door!"
Hesitant, the teenager looked at the entrance, when the bell sounded anew.
"But, someone's ringing."
"Liam," Danny's silky voice calmed the teenager's frazzling nerves.
"Sweetheart, none of us would ever ring our doorbell. We would call or use the
earrings. Whoever that is, he or she is not pack. Can you hear anything?"
Eased a little by the voice of his master, Liam hovered and listened. "It's a
woman. She is talking to … I don't know. I can't hear who's at the other end.
She's talking about social services. That doesn't even make sense. Why would
social services send someone to a house where all inhabitants are adults?"
"Not all of us are adults, Liam." Stiles was back to his confident self. "This
is the consequence of entering the Sheriff's station with a split lip. They are
checking up on you."
"What? They can't … why would they?" Retreating on instinct, Liam asked in a
whisper, "Will they take me away?"
A chorus of denials made him dizzy. Every last member of the pack assured him
that they would never, ever allow that. Danny was the one silencing them by
whistling sharply.
Stiles used the moment of shocked quiet to speak. "Liam you will open this door
now and ask this woman to identify herself. If she really is from social
services, she will have a license card. Danny will check it. When he gives you
the heads up, you can invite her in. Offer her something to drink and answer
all of her questions as truthfully as possible. Maria wants you to stay with
us. Nobody can prove we harm you. So she can’t do anything right now but take a
look. Just stay calm and be polite. Isaac and I are on our way and Scott will
come home as soon as his meeting is over. Don't worry, pup. Everything will be
alright."
                                     ~ * ~
Once Liam had his directions, he was briefly disconnected from the broadcast.
Worried for their pup, Stiles tried to do some damage-control. "Lydia, tell me
what's the worst they can do? Peter, get Marie on the phone."
Gesturing for his enforcer to follow, Stiles headed for their parking lot. Liam
would be alone with the social worker – and Stiles really hoped that it had
been a social worker at their door – for at least twenty minutes. And though
the leader of the Stilinski-family wanted to have faith in their pup being able
to handle himself, he didn't want to leave him on his own for too long. The
situation would be stressful for anybody. The prospect of being taken away from
his family was horrible for a teenager. For a wolf the outlook of losing his
pack was unbearable. Danny would stay tuned to Liam's emotions even though he
had a meeting to attend to. Should his thrall panic, Danny could be with him in
a heartbeat.
On their way back, Lydia read from several legal documents that a teenager of
Liam's age could very well decide where he wanted to live, if his legal
guardian – in this case Maria Dunbar – permitted it. Peter was briefing Liam's
sister, and since the young woman wanted her brother out of trouble, she would
agree to whatever story the pack came up with. They all knew the safest way was
to keep their story as close as possible to the truth: Maria and Liam had run
with a 'bad crowd'. Once Maria had realized what was going on, she had
encouraged Liam to stay in Beacon Hills with some friends. Now all they had to
do was convince the social worker that Liam was neither in any kind of trouble,
nor was getting abused.
                                     ~ * ~
The cracking of the steering wheel pulled Stiles out of his own mind back to
the present. When looking at Isaac, he noticed that the werewolf’s knuckles
were turning white. Imagining the reason for his enforcer's anger, Stiles put
his hand over Isaac's finger, reminding his friend, "We would never do that,
and you know it. They just have to be careful. Had they acted the same way with
you, your father would have never …"
"My father was a bastard," Isaac pressed out from between elongating teeth.
"But he was well integrated into society. Nobody ever suspected that he …"
"That he was abusing you." Stiles finished for him. "Say it Isaac, because
that's exactly what happened."
"Because he was abusing me!" the werewolf roared, eyes shining a cold blue.
"How can they think, even for a single second, that the home I am living in
would do something like that to a young boy?"
Pressing down on Isaac’s neck, anchoring the werewolf in the pack-bond, Stiles
reminded him, "Because statistics are against us. Child from abusive homes have
a high chance to become abusive parents. It's a vicious circle and most people
need a lot of help to break out of it."
Isaac's voice was barely audible. "Help like a wolf-pack."
Smiling at his friend, rubbing his thumb over Isaac's neck, Stiles confirmed.
"Exactly: help like a wolf-pack. This pack will not allow our pup to be taken
from us. She will see that Liam is alright, trust me."
                                     ~ * ~
Liam, was definitely not alright. He had asked for the identity card, and when
handing it over the woman had looked down at him over her glasses. Even when
Liam invited her in, she hovered, scrutinizing the boy, before entering. Before
the teenager even got the chance to offer her a coffee, she asked, "Isn't
anybody home?"
Flinching slightly at the implied accusation, Liam lowered his head and pulled
back a little. "No, nobody is home at the moment. Stiles, Isaac and Danny
usually return between five and six. With the rest it depends on their
schedule."
"Their schedule, I understand." Passing the boy, the woman pulled out a
notebook and wrote something down, while inspecting the house. She opened every
door and looked into every room, clearly judging what she saw. When it came to
the games beside the console in the living-room she raised her eyebrows at Liam
and dotted down every video-game with a rating of sixteen and above.
Liam tried to stop her. But since he was convinced that touching her was a bad
idea, and could not think of anything smart to say, he mainly hovered, making
insentient noises of protest, whenever she touched something that belonged to a
member of the pack. When she finally made her way down to Stiles room, Liam
knew that he had to do something. Squeezing himself between the social worker
and the door to Stiles' office, he glared up at the woman. The teenager had
learned that nobody but Lydia was allowed in that room, and he was determined
not to let this weird lady pass into his human Alpha's sanctuary.
When the boy didn't react to a suggestive gesture, the woman demanded, "Well,
young man, step aside. I am here to discover if this house is a suitable home
for a boy like you. Therefore I need to inspect everything."
Feeling hot anger churning in his gut, because of her dismissive behavior, Liam
held his ground. "You don't need to look into a room not even I am allowed in!"
Looking down at the boy, who had for the first time actually said something,
and not in fear but in determination, a nearly unperceivable smile tugged at
her lips. Still she clung to her serious façade, looking down at the boy. "And
how can I be sure that there is nothing in there to hurt you?"
"I would tell you!" the teenager stated, glowering up at her, folding his arms
in front of his chest defensively.
The social worker briefly touched his shoulder before speaking in an
uncharacteristically soft tone. "No, Liam, that's the problem. You really would
not."
Before Liam could reply, the door opened and Stiles called for him. Sagging
with relief, the boy stepped around the social worker to reach his Alpha as
fast as possible.
The woman briefly opened the door to the room he had denied her entrance and
was relieved to find nothing but books, comics and a computer in it. Closing
the door again, she returned to the lobby, where Liam was explaining to Stiles
in a frantic whisper what had happened, clinging to the older teenager's
jacket.
It was plain to see that the boy did not hesitate to maintain physical contact,
something that rarely happened in cases of child abuse. However, there were
many people registered in this house, and she had to see him interact with all
of them, before she could rule out the possibility that he was abused,
something the Sheriff was clearly convinced of.
She took in the imposing figure of Stiles Stilinski who approached her once he
had calmed Liam sufficiently. The second teenager, who had followed in his
wake, had just closed the door and was reaching for Liam even before he was
even turned. Concentrating on Mr. Stilinski she shook the offered hand, when
the young man introduced himself properly, "I am Stiles Stilinski, I would
offer you a drink, but before serving you coffee, I would really like to know
why you came."
She had upset Liam with her distant behavior, something that was necessary,
because once she concentrated on the children, she was unable to inspect the
surroundings, too caught up in making them feel better. She had seen Stiles
soothing the younger boy. He had touched him affectionately, so whatever the
Sheriff had seen clearly was not of Stiles Stilinski's making. Yet before she
could introduce herself and explain the reason for her visit, a familiar voice
spoke up, "Agatha? Agatha Monroe?"
Looking at the tall, curly haired young man, who now had a hand on Liam's
shoulder, a gesture the boy seemed to lean into, she nearly didn't recognize
him. But after a moment, the memories returned to her. "Isaac Lahey? Oh my god,
I nearly didn't recognize you, you look so different."
Untangling himself from Liam, the teenager reached for her and pulled her into
a brief hug, before returning to pull Liam against his chest again. She took in
the movement with hawk's eyes, aware that Isaac knew that. Still, he did not
tense, did not even flinch, when Liam dug his fingers into Isaac's forearm,
asking in a hostile tone, "You know her?"
Smiling, Isaac looked down, ruffling the younger boy's hair. "Yes, I know her.
She was the one who cleared me to live with John, Melissa, Stiles and Scott as
soon as my dad was dead."
"That was nearly two years ago," supplied Agatha. "And I have to admit, you
look good Isaac."
"Look," Stiles interrupted them, slightly impatient. "I'm really glad that the
two of you know each other, but I really would like to know who called you."
                                     ~ * ~
As it turned out, Stiles had to wait another hour to finally receive an answer
to this question. Within forty minutes, every last member of the pack had
returned home, something that Agatha wrote down meticulously. Once every
inhabitant registered in the Stilinski residence was present, she asked, "How
did you all know that Liam needed you?"
"Well," a strawberry blonde girl, she had introduced herself as Lydia Martin,
explained. "We don't get unannounced visitors very often and Liam does have a
phone. He knows that he needs to call when something out of the ordinary
happens."
That was not even a lie, because apart from using the magic earrings instead of
his mobile, Liam had done exactly that.
"And a stranger coming to your door is 'something out of the ordinary'? Is that
what you are saying, Miss Martin?" Her voice was provocative, but she had to
get a truthful answer. Otherwise she could not decide if this really was the
best place for a fifteen year old to grow up.
Yet instead of rising to the bait, Lydia smiled sweetly. "Liam rarely is home
alone. Had one of us been here, he would not have called. But we weren't, so he
told us."
It was the sensible thing to do, there was no denying that, yet somehow it felt
a little paranoid. Liam was fifteen years old, surely he could deal with a
door-to-door salesmen or the postman. On the other hand, Agatha Monroe was not
here to judge if these people were overprotective, but if they were abusive.
The later didn't seem to be the case, but still, something felt off.
However, the only adult in the house seemed to be a sensible person. Melissa
McCall was still wearing the scrubs from her day-shift. Instead of changing she
had claimed a place on the love-seat, briefly reaching for Liam to comfort him.
Her son and the young Allison Argent sat at her feet, Allison huddled into
Scott's embrace. They all tried to appear relaxed, but none of them let Agatha
out of their sight.
Liam was currently sitting with a dark-haired, handsome looking man who had
introduced himself as Daniel Mahealani. From the moment he had entered, Liam
had gravitated towards him. The young man had hugged the smaller teenager,
kissing the top of his head, before turning towards one of the twins who too
had a permanent residency here, kissing him lovingly. All of these children
were far too tactile for the social worker’s liking. But since they all had
well established places in society, each following his own career, there was
nothing she could do for now.
                                     ~ * ~
She announced her next visit three days later. Together with the Sheriff she
had researched all the inhabitants of the Stilinski household and while talking
to Liam's teachers and his lacrosse-trainer had revealed the boy to be
generally well behaved, albeit slightly mischievous, there were only two people
in the family she had to worry about. Following her polite demand for a private
interview, Stiles Stilinski invited her for coffee the next day, since Liam
would be home by then but barely anybody else.
When Stiles Stilinski guided her to the living room, the two of them seemed to
be alone. But after providing a cup of coffee and a few cupcakes, she noticed
that Derek and Peter Hale as well as Scott McCall and Liam Dunbar were playing
a two-on-two lacrosse match in the back yard.
Smiling, Stiles explained, "Liam has a big game tomorrow. Since your interview
meant that he had to miss practice today, Scott offered a training-match."
Agatha flinched slightly in her seat when she saw Scott and Liam colliding full
force in front of a make-shift goal. She was nearly out of her seat when the
both of them losing their footing, tumbling to the floor. She relaxed again
when she saw that Liam was laughing so hard, that he could barely stand up. A
moment later, the two repeated the move, but this time Liam was able to twist
out of the attack, bypassing Peter Hale who guarded the goal. She could see the
delight in the boy's eyes, when he managed to score and jumped Scott McCall
triumphantly.
"He's happy with you."
"Do you deduce that from what you see, or what his sister has told you?" Stiles
smiled pleasantly, sure in his own deduction.
So Agatha asked, "What makes you think I called his sister?"
Shrugging, Stiles gestured for the others to end their match, when they looked
towards the house. Liam pleaded with his outstretched fingers for five more
minutes, but Stiles shook his head, and gestured upstairs. When looking back at
the social worker, he pondered, "Because that's what I would do: make sure that
everybody is on the same page. That Liam actually wants to be here, and his
sister approves. This is a good family. You know Isaac, he flourished ever
since moving in with us."
Having done her research, Agatha Monroe countered, "Isaac Lahey has three
charges of 'nightly disturbance' and one for 'attempted assault' on his name.
Not exactly the most law abiding citizen."
"Are you here to discuss morals or if the people in this house are happy?"
Stiles asked provocatively.
"I am here to judge if this is the best place for a fifteen year old to grow
up."
Quietly approaching from the kitchen, the others had left their gear in the
garage and had washed their hands and faces before joining their guest, Liam
was the one who asked, "And will I get a say in that matter?"
When Agatha turned around, the young boy offered his hand, greeting her
politely, before approaching Stiles' armchair, sitting down on the floor
between Stiles' legs, tapping his right shoulder. Stiles started to massage the
sore muscles after sharing his drink with the parched boy.
"I'm afraid that you might not be the best judge if the allegations are true."
The social-worker stated, watchful of the interaction between the head of this
family and its youngest member.
Derek Hale, he had chosen a place behind Stiles and Liam, sipping a soda while
leaning against a side-board, asked calmly, "Allegations made by whom?"
"The Sheriff." Agatha revealed, though she very much doubted that this was
really news to these kids. They seemed extraordinarily well informed when it
came to what was going on when it concerned their family.
"The Sheriff has it out for us. He didn't like Stiles' dad. Since John is dead,
he projects that dislike to every member of this family." Scott shared in a
slightly angry tone, having chosen a position on the couch between Liam and
Agatha. It felt like he wanted to provide a living shield between her and the
boy.
"And all 'dislike' aside," Peter's sneer came from the direction of the
kitchen, where he had just made himself a sandwich and now entered, swallowing
the first bite. "The guy is a jerk. What harm are we supposed to do to Liam?
The boy is perfectly alright!"
Of course she had noticed that the boy showed not the slightest signs of abuse,
nor did he shy away from a single member of this family. On the contrary, he
seemed nearly starved for their affection, if his constant attempts of making
contact with them were anything to go by. And from what Agatha had seen so far,
everybody was touching, hugging or cuddling him as easily as they maintained
contact with each other. To them it seemed to be the most natural thing in the
word. Agatha knew very few families that were so openly affectionate with each
other.
Sadly that still did not mean that this was the right environment for Liam.
"Even considering all that, I have a hard time seeing this as the perfect
surrounding for an adolescent boy when he is surrounded by people with a
record. What kind of example can someone provide who has been reported no less
than six times for aggravated assault and three times for malicious injury of
property, Mr. Hale?"
Peter's wolf wanted to curl into himself, ashamed when being presented as a bad
example for the whelp. True he had a vicious way of working, but that was a
given in their line of duty. But still, not allowing this woman to cower him,
Peter lifted his chin and stared her down. He was on the verge of defending his
actions, when all of a sudden Stiles spoke up.
"And how any of these notifications were reported in the last three months?"
"None of them," Agatha admitted. "But that hardly means that …"
It hardly meant that Peter was the ideal role-model, but before she could
finish her sentence, Stiles interrupted her. "No, it does not. But neither
Peter, nor any other member of this family had done anything wrong ever since
Liam joined us."
Lifting her eyebrows unbelieving, the social worker asked, "And now you want me
to approve of Liam living here, just because nothing happened within a twelve-
week period? There are people living in this house who are known for their
violent behavior. You can't expect me to ignore that, Mr. Stilinski."
Stiles hugged Liam from behind, because the longer the social worker had spoken
ill of their family, the more the boy had started to shake from anger. Placing
a steady hand on the boy's chest to hold him back, Stiles shook his head. "No,
but what I expect is for you to give every member of this family the benefit of
the doubt. Innocent until proven guilty, it's not always nice but that's how
our system works."
Gesturing towards Peter, who had approached him without the situation calling
for it for the first time, simply because Stiles was defending him – the
teenager assumed this gesture to be subconscious because the werewolf rarely
received open support and was yet not used to it – the head of the family
continued, "You are very welcome to visit any time you want. You can invite
Liam for an interview and we will bring him to you. But until a member of this
family does something wrong, I want you to accept that Liam wants to be with us
and not throw logs beneath our feet."
For a long minute Agatha Monroe looked at the men in front of her. Peter had
chosen a position behind Stiles' right shoulder, Derek stood by his left. Scott
still sat on the couch closer to them than to Agatha, and Liam sat on the
floor, overwhelmed by the men around him, but clearly comforted by their
protective gestures. Maybe these people were exactly what the boy needed. Maybe
they would protect him from the life he had lived in Pittsburg, and yes, Agatha
had looked into the police records there and had discovered that Liam had
suffered severe abuse from his sister's boyfriend, who had mysteriously
vanished a few months ago. The boy was happier here and despite this family not
being a role model of the American dream, for now she could accept that this
was the best place for him.
So after nodding to herself and Stiles, she rose from the sofa and offered her
hand. "Very well, Mr. Stilinski, I do reserve the right to visit again and to
call Liam in for interviews. But for now I can see that this house is his home,
so I won't interfere until you give me reason."
The smiles she received from the people facing her, were almost blinding.
Stiles shook her hand and saw her out, accompanying the gesture with friendly
words, "That's all we want from you, Mrs. Monroe. We're glad that you are on
Liam's case."
                                     ~ * ~
***** Family *****
Chapter Summary
     Concerning families, and not only the Stilinskis.
Chapter Notes
     I'm so sorry you had to wait so long for this one. Memprime had it
     ready ages ago and Wecantgiggleatacrimescene sent it to me before the
     weekend. I'm just a moron who get's lost in the messages of her own
     betareaders. So sorry.
The next few weeks were calm, though Derek noticed that there was some kind of
tension in the air on occasion. Lydia, Allison, Scott and Stiles lingered in
Stiles' office regularly, yet none of the four seemed to find it necessary to
share what was discussed there with the rest of the pack. Having faith in his
Alphas, the werewolf was convinced that there was nothing to worry about until
told otherwise. Peter however, was less patient. More than once did Derek see
him ask Lydia about what was going on when she emerged from the office. But the
girl only touched his shoulder or kissed his cheek, assuring him that
everything was under control.
After about a month of these private meetings, Peter had had enough. He liked
this family, but he hated being out of the loop. Spring was about to begin and
the day had been uncharacteristically warm, making all the humans a little
cranky, due to the sudden change in temperature. That, combined with an
imminent blue moon, had everybody on edge. So when Lydia, Allison, Scott and
Stiles four emerged from Stiles office once again, claiming their places at the
dining table without saying a word, Peter stopped being discreet about his
desire to be told what was going on.
"Look, I appreciate that you welcomed me in your pack and all that," Peter
started, unexpectedly aggressive towards Stiles. "But I demand to know what is
going on. What are you discussing behind our backs! I am not one of your kids.
I want to know what's happening!"
Yes, Peter had bounced back from being scared of Stiles. His wolf still had a
healthy respect for the Alpha, but the past two full moons had proven that the
werewolf was absolutely able to hold himself under control. Even when Lydia
offered her blood to the vampires of the Club Salvatore. Stiles seemed more
amused than irritated by the harsh demand. He gazed at his best friend and when
Scott made a dismissive gesture, the human Alpha looked at Peter Hale and
revealed, "The demon wolf will use the next full moon to take over your
sister's territory."
"What?"
                                     ~ * ~
Talia had struggled. For such a long time she had done everything she could
think of to help her family bounce back from the tragedy they had suffered all
those years ago. She had even sent her son away to keep him safe from
retaliation. And though Derek had proven extraordinarily effective while
managing their branch in New York, she had never given him credit for it. Sure
she had told him that he did a good job when he had visited with the books. But
until Derek had been gone, she had never fully realized how much effort he had
put into making their business strive.
Since summer she had had two family-members trying to take over Derek's job.
Yet both had failed, either in getting their dealers under control or in caring
for the books. Now the third one was on his way. But Talia had lost hope that
he would do any better. New York simply was too much to handle for a single
person. Sometimes she wondered how Derek had done it. From the looks of it, her
son had worked 24/7 to maintain discipline and keep their journals up to date.
Why had he never said anything? It could not have been a good life. He had
smelled edgy whenever he had returned, reluctant and redrawn, yet still he had
never requested any kind of support.
Talia had been well aware what she had risked by sending him off to the
Stilinski clan, especially with that collar. But she had hoped that her boy
would find his edge. Like Laura had with the other clan two years ago. But on
New Year's Eve, Derek had not appeared hardened or particularly single-minded.
He had smelled sad and nearly panicking when entering the clearing.
She had hated the Stilinski boy for that, but had been determined to keep her
opinion to herself, until the deal was through. Yet something changed, the kids
had talked to her son and all of the sudden there had been hope. Derek had
looked at her when he had transformed and crossed the clearing. He had not even
tried to appear submissive to his rightful Alpha when he had come to her with
the money. It had been confusing, until the moment of him rejecting her.
Rejecting their family had revealed that he did not intent to submit to her
ever again.
Never, not for a single second, had Talia ever thought, that her son would not
return home. She had been prepared for an outrageous request from the Stilinski
boy, for more money, more territory or another business transaction. But never
in her wildest dreams, had she thought that her son would look into her eyes
and state calmly, "Thank you, but no thank you." Before returning to these
children! Children who had welcomed him with open arms, touching him, scenting
him. Only at her outraged accusation for them not being fit to care for her
child they had revealed their secret.
A pack of wolves, led by a human crime-lord and a true Alpha had faced her off,
daring her to engage them in a fight. They had even had two Argents for their
protection. She knew Victoria had taken her own life, the rumor that she had
been bitten by a rogue wolf had been as persistent in her circles, as the one
that she had been diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor with the humans.
Chris Argent had despised her. She had smelled that whenever they had met. But
since she had taken care that her pack was no danger to the humans of Beacon
Hills, he had never had any reason to hunt them. It had been an unsteady truce,
but a truce nevertheless.
Seeing him and his daughter with these children, it had become clear where his
loyalties lay. She had believed him when he had said that he would keep the
wolves in check. He was a hunter after all. But seeing him on their side had
made it apparent that she had met a stronger force than she could ever hope to
defeat. She had pulled back, reluctantly. Still, she had to know who had
created them in the first place. She had felt entitled to that knowledge and
had demanded it ruthlessly. So she had not even registered her brother stepping
up to her, when Stiles had issued an open invitation for any member of her pack
to join them.
It had been one of the rare times when Peter had given voice to the thoughts in
her head. She had thought them too far apart for that, but her brother had
taunted the Stilinski boy in her place. Safe in the knowledge that no member of
her pack would ever leave her, she had once again demanded the wolf who had
bitten them to be revealed.
Thunderstruck when realizing that the exchange between her brother and the
other pack revealed that Scott McCall was a true Alpha and had not bitten the
other wolves in the pack, she had hovered uncertainly. Still, she had not been
able to let go of the question. Peter, clearly intending to take the offer, had
pulled the rug from under her feet by giving her the last clue to solve this
puzzle herself before transforming as had been requested.
She had not been willing to let another wolf leave her pack so easily, let
alone a blood relative. But the vicious growl from the other pack, when she had
touched her brother, had made it clear that the decision had already been made.
That night she had not only lost her son but her brother as well. Though, when
thinking about him biting several teenagers without her knowledge, maybe she
had had lost him long before that.
Never in her life had she thought Peter able to show enough humbleness to join
a pack with not one but two Alphas. When he had done so, nearly every member of
the pack had been scenting him, before he had sat beside Lydia Martin who had
collared him. He had not made a single sound when the girl had fastened the
dreadful enchantment around his neck and of course he had obeyed without
hesitation after that.
She had wanted to howl, to tear these kids to shreds after losing two of the
strongest wolves of her pack to them. But in the end she had retreated, knowing
that a fight would not end in her favor. After that night she had severed all
business ties with the Stilinski family. She had opened herself for markets
south of Beacon Hills, now that she had four million dollars it was easy to tap
into new business opportunities. Sadly that had left her without backup. She
simply did not know how to react to the rumors that the demon wolf would try to
claim her territory.
She had asked Deaton for advice, and of course the cheeky emissary had
suggested for her to go to Stiles for help. During the following argument she
had discovered that of course Deaton had known about the other wolves. Yet he
used his cursed 'neutrality' as a defense for not telling her. When she had
downright accused him of divided loyalties, he had just shaken his head at her,
clearly disappointed. Of course he would never work as an emissary for another
pack. That would be a conflict of interest. Yet when she had asked him who was
advising the Stilinski family, he would not reveal the pack's emissary.
Angry, she had left him, accusing him of not taking his job seriously, painting
him responsible for all the lives lost should it come to a fight between the
Hale-pack and that of the demon-wolf. The truth was, she was out of options.
The only thing she could do was call all remaining members of her pack home,
hoping that it would be enough to hold her ground. Yet somehow, she doubted
that. But she could not let herself be discouraged by the bad odds. Beacon
Hills and its secrets had been her families to protect for a very, very long
time. She would fight to the last man standing to defend them.
                                     ~ * ~
Peter has run in circles, both in his mind and in the back-yard. He had watched
the pack and his nephew train and teach the whelp. The blue moon was only days
away but nobody had said anything about Deucalion's imminent attack on the Hale
family. Peter had asked Lydia about it. Yet the girl had only answered
absentmindedly that the Hale cared for the woods and the Stilinski family for
the town of Beacon Hills and several others in Central California. Their
territories did rarely overlap.
The werewolf was … conflicted. He had asked Derek if he had any plans to
intervene, but his nephew had only shrugged the question off. "I trust,
Stiles," had been his simple answer, before he had returned to the books of the
company, as he was preparing for yet another reversion by the treasury
department. Apparently the FBI didn't share their data. And though Peter could
understand that Derek wanted to present the company's books in the best
possible light, it was the first legitimate job he had ever had after all, he
found the answer frustrating.
The day before the blue moon, Peter cornered Stiles in the kitchen. Dinner was
already through and the others were piling in the cinema for an illegally
obtained copy of the latest blockbuster. The Don of the family had stated a
craving for ice-cream and since the others had demanded their own, Peter had
volunteered to accompany him. Stiles was currently placing all the ice-cream
boxes on a tray, digging through the drawers for enough spoons, when the
werewolf blurred out, "I can't leave Talia to face this threat alone!"
He smelled no anger or anxiety on Stiles at this statement. So he was not
prepared for the hard look in the Alpha's eyes, when he turned around, asking
Peter evenly, "So you plan to abandon your new family in favor of your old
one?"
Peter wanted to deny that. To explain that he would never abandon Lydia and
Aiden, Erica and Boyd and least of all Isaac. Scott was his Alpha now and he
would follow him, … Stiles was his Alpha too, and he would follow him, and …
Dropping his head Peter couldn't come up with a valid answer. Though Stiles was
no wolf he usually was able to call them on their lies if Peter came up with a
petty excuse now he couldn't even belief himself. The truth was, Talia had been
his Alpha too and a part of his wolf still felt bound to her. Not because of
her position in the pack, but because she was his sister, family by blood and
that was important.
Stiles seemed to be aware of his inability to find a valid response, because
after a few heartbeats, he picked up the tray with ice-cream and left without
another word.
Peter didn't return to the home-cinema that night and nobody bothered him
afterwards. He lay in his new bed, in his human Alpha's old room, and watched
the nearly full moon make his journey over the night sky. Yet when it moved out
of the frame of his window he still hadn't come to a conclusion of what he
should do.
                                     ~ * ~
They all were anxious and short-tempered during the day of the blue moon. The
wolves felt the pull much stronger this time, and the humans were somehow
riding their emotional high. Still, Alison, Lydia and Stiles and Danny made a
valid effort to calm their respective partners and Melissa was maintaining as
much physical contact with Erica and Boyd.
Peter followed Lydia and Aiden obediently and Lydia had wisely decided to visit
some of their more resisting business partners to give the wolves a chance to
blow off some steam. For dinner, copious amounts of meat were consumed, mostly
raw for the wolves, and afterwards they all snuggled on various couches and
love-seats in the living room. Stiles was the only one who had excused himself
and not ten minutes later, Derek had followed.
When around half past ten Alison entered, she was still in full fighting gear:
bracers, jambarts and a leather corset. She looked hot, Peter had to give her
that, like a warrior princess of old. He could understand why Scott and Isaac
perked up immediately when she entered the room. Yet he was surprised when
Isaac whined under his breath as soon as he was touching her. Black veins were
running up the young wolf's arm. Clearly Allison was in pain. Yet the girl
brushed off his hand and kissed her curly haired boyfriend sweetly. "No need,
Isaac. I underestimated dad's latest client. He was particularly persistent in
his negotiations. But we wrapped him up nicely."
There was a pun in there somewhere, but the realization that came with that
statement had Peter swaying for a second. His heart skyrocketed and his eyes
started to glow, when he stormed towards Stiles' office and kicked open the
door. It made a satisfactory crunch against the bookshelves. Peter all but
growled at the teenager, who was currently making out with his nephew. Pulling
back from his partner, Derek mirrored the gesture, teeth elongating, eyes
shining a radiant blue. Yet Peter couldn't care less at the moment. Not
entering the office, at least that rule remained unbroken, he accused Stiles,
"You made me think that I had to choose between my old family and my new one.
You would never force me to make that decision if I wanted to help Talia!
You're not that kind of Alpha."
Talia would have been that kind of Alpha. Their mother would have been that
kind of Alpha, hell Deucalion was clearly that kind of Alpha. But Stiles would
never do that. Family was important and he would never make any member of his
pack chose. He let his pack help when their help was needed. How cruel to make
Peter believe otherwise!
Cupping Derek's cheek to calm the wolf down, Stiles only rearranged himself
slightly on Derek's lap, so that he could look at Peter without straining
himself. With a taunting smile, the boy shook his head. "Congratulations on
finally figuring that out. Did you have help?" Trailing his fingers through his
mussed up hair, Stiles looked into Peter's eyes, unbelieving when asking in
earnest, "For what kind of asshole do you take me? You want to help your
family? Why are you still here?"
Peter at least had the modesty to look somewhat sheepish for the tantrum he had
just thrown, and with but a small nod he left, not even bothering to close the
door again. Stiles could feel Derek's head on his chest, looking after his
uncle. Exasperated, the werewolf stated, "I better join him to keep him from
doing something stupid." Nodding, while scratching his boyfriend's neck, Stiles
confirmed. "Yep, you better do that," before kissing Derek's lips tenderly,
rising from his lap.
Not five minutes later, both Hales left the house in Ethan's Land Rover,
prepared to support Talia in this time of crisis. Stiles used the chance to
stretch out on the now empty couch, catching a few minutes of reviving calm
before the storm hit.
                                     ~ * ~
Talia had been surprised to see her son and brother when the pack had left the
house to meet her opponent. True, two wolves more or less wouldn't change their
odds by much. Still she felt better at the thought that her family had not
abandoned her entirely. As Alpha, she could not allow herself any display of
emotional weakness. So she only nodded towards Derek and Peter before ordering
her pack into their cars for departure.
Since the demon wolf had a flare for the dramatic, she was directing her pack
to an old barn where the last 'negotiations' had taken place. She had been
stronger then, had easily forced the demon wolf out of her territory. This time
she would only succeed if she had a lot of luck on her side. Yet luck had not
been with her family for the last six years.
Upon entering the barn, she noticed that something had happened here. A spiral
had been clawed into the wall. A burned circle of mountain ash edged into the
floor. This had become a place of great power but Talia could not decipher if
this would work to her advantage. When they heard the demon wolf approaching
she met him at the entrance. When she saw the sheer overwhelming number of
wolves who followed him – there had to be at least a dozen people – she
realized that she was outnumbered. Her pack would not survive a fight against
these Alphas.
                                     ~ * ~
***** Deucalion *****
Chapter Summary
     "I think we have demonstrated to Talia how this family acts in a
     moment of crisis. If she wants to know more," turning from Stiles
     towards his sister Peter concluded, "you have my number."
Chapter Notes
     Nuff said. Enjoy ;)
The alpha of the alpha-pack had always been sure of himself. Still that did not
justify his mockery when he approached her. "Talia, I see you got the entire
family together. Even the little payment you offered to Stilinski. You must be
glad to have them at your back for a special occasion like this."
Derek could barely hold back his uncle, who was already growling at the wolf
who taunted his sister. Luckily his sisters didn't want their uncle to get
maimed or killed either. Between the three of them, they managed to keep Peter
in check. Derek had not had the chance to speak with his sisters. Everything
was happening so fast but the brief touch the siblings had allowed themselves
had spoken of joy and grief in equal parts. Obviously his sisters did not
expect to survive this moon.
"You had an agreement with this family," Talia started, raising her chin to
appear taller. The power her opponent was extruding made him appear larger than
life. Every wolf on the clearing clearly was intimidated by him. "This
territory was entrusted to the Hale-pack for safe keeping many generations ago.
These woods and the surrounding territories are under my protection and you
have no right to enter our lands without my permission."
Flashing Talia a smile, the sheer amount of teeth made a mockery of the jovial
gesture, he answered, "See, that's the beauty of it, agreements can be re-
negotiated. If I remember correctly, this territory was entrusted to you, as
long as you are able to keep it, and the humans who live nearby, safe. Yet from
everything I have heard, you have been doing a poor job recently!"
Confused, Talia shook her head. "What makes you say that? We have not had a
supernatural incident in years!"
"Two years to be exact." He stated, looking behind Talia to meet Derek and
Peter's eyes. "Exactly two years ago other players entered these fields and had
done the majority of keeping this town and its inhabitants safe."
Returning to his pack in languid strides, touching the shoulders of his second
and third in command, Ennis and Kali, he elaborated. "A little more than a year
ago a dark druid roamed freely in this charming little town. There were
murders, but since the police wrote them off as killings from a psychopath, you
did not even look into them, too absorbed in your little money-making problem.
Well, since you were too wrapped up in your own affairs, someone else had to
step up to deal with the darach's ritual sacrifices to the Nemeton."
Shrugging, as if this was of utter unimportance, he continued, "Of course this
dark druid was only after me and she knew exactly how to get me here. The end-
result was … well, let's say elevating for some of the participants, gut
wrenching for others."
Ennis and Kali did not even try to hold back their condescending snickers, and
though Talia was gutted by them, Deucalion acted as if nothing had happened.
Gathering her strength, Talia shook her head. "If what you are saying is true,
I would have known about this!"
"Really?" The demon wolf was upon her, faster than anybody could react. His
claws cut Talia's skin when he choked her. The pack was nervous, indecisive as
to what to do when facing such strong opponents and Talia was in no shape to
utter a command. Derek and Peter exchanged a concerned look and both knew what
the other was thinking. In their new pack, no wolf would have hesitated for a
second to tear apart an attacker who so much as touched one of their Alphas,
let alone drew blood.
Slowly, the sun-glasses that had shaded the formerly blind man's eyes were
pulled away and the Alpha of the Hale-pack was forced to meet blazing but clear
red eyes. "Tell me, dear Talia, do you notice anything different about me since
from the last time we met?"
"But you were," Talia forced out from between clenched teeth. "How's this
possible?"
"Despite you being occupied, I was lucky to find other people who were willing
to help me. True I used unfair means of persuasion and it lost me two members
of my pack, but as you see, I have managed to increase my numbers again. All I
needed were twelve short months." Deucalion sneered, letting go of Talia so
abruptly that the Alpha staggered. "One of the wolves who helped me, even
ascended to true Alpha that night."
Seeing the understanding in the Alpha's face, the demon wolf pressed on, "Tell
me, Talia, do you really have no idea who might have kept the peace in your
territory when you were so obsessed with your shady business that you couldn't
care less about the lives that were at stake?"
Taken by surprise, Talia regained her footing, when Peter offered his hand. For
once not too proud to accept help. "You were there? You saw him ascend? How?"
As this was news for Peter too, he stayed beside his sister, supporting her
against the demon wolf, even though he knew that it would do little good. The
Hale Pack composed of only two Alphas, Talia and himself. In the end, should
they be attacked, none of them would survive. Yet still, Peter only felt sad on
Derek's behalf. He had lost everything in the fire and though Lydia had been
someone … Derek had a real chance with Stiles. It troubled Peter to see him
lose it.
Taking a step back, claiming a place half between his pack and the Hales, the
werewolf shook his head when recalling. "By the most unbelievable yet only mean
possible: through love."
When a few of the werewolves sneered, the demon wolf shook his head, explaining
softly, "I may have unwisely chosen his mother to ensure his support. The
darach, Jennifer Blake chose his best friend to reach the same goal. Due to
unfavorable circumstances both ended in a circle of mountain ash, beyond his
reach. Yet when the danger for the two became imminent, he called upon forces
far beyond his own and gathered enough power to break the circle saving them
both.
"We came to an agreement that night, after I had slashed the darach's throat.
The conflict had wounded me and my pack greatly, had made two members abandon
me. Yet instead of striking me down when he got the chance, he let me live."
Encompassing their entire surroundings with a wide gesture, he continued, "He
let me live and I build up my pack again. I swore to stay out of his territory,
but I never promised the same to you. Clearly you have neglected your duties,
and now I have come to relief you of them. Keep your little house in the woods,
but from this day on, your territory is mine!"
"NEVER!" Eyes blazing red, Talia shifted, ready to strike when a calm voice
interrupted their interaction.
"You know, though it might be entertaining to see the two of you at each
other's throats, I would really like you to reconsider, Duke."
                                     ~ * ~
In all truth, the Stilinski-McCall pack had needed very little preparations for
this night. On the evening Stiles had shared the knowledge of a pending attack,
nearly a week ago, things had already been arranged to Stiles and Scott's
liking. Therefore, the Alpha's calm attitude had not been for show.
Now Stiles was leaning against a tree, not far from a barn he had very few fond
memories of, eying the two Alpha-wolves from a safe distance. Since this would
be a wolf-conflict, it had been Scott's decision what they would do. But the
solution Stiles could offer had been to the true Alpha's liking. Therefore,
Stiles was a picture of tranquillity in his white suit that reflected the
moonlight, and the blood-red dress shirt underneath.
Lydia, in a short skirt with a starched white blouse and a red vest was leaning
on the other side of the tree, her attire a perfect match for Stiles'. Alison,
armed and armoured, claimed a place next to the leader of her family, her bow
readied with an arrow was not yet drawn. Danny, who had chosen only leather
trousers, appeared beside Lydia with a bare chest and bare feet. The wolves all
had gone for dark leather trousers, sturdy boots and matching vests, yes even
Erica who was accentuating her breasts nicely with a corset, but nothing more.
Stiles looked from the unbelieving Talia to the demon wolf and back again. His
voice was free of any emotion and quiet, since every wolf in a hundred feet
radius would understand him easily. "Though you have made it very clear of what
you think of me and my family by cutting ties to us after New Year, Talia, two
members of my pack would be quite upset to see you harmed or dead. So I am
willing to offer a solution for this conflict that won't end in bloodshed."
Both the human Alpha as well as Lydia gazed at their respective Hale wolves and
with a small sigh, Derek kissed both of his sisters before joining his
boyfriend. Peter looked from his new Alpha to his old one and mirrored Derek's
gesture, before taking his leave. As expected, Danny shifted, making room
beside Lydia.
Once the pack had closed ranks, Stiles stated, "By all means, fight the Hales,
Deucalion, if you think the surrounding woods so appealing. But I would like to
remind you that the town belongs to me, and you will have a much harder time
defeating my pack if you try to claim it."
                                     ~ * ~
Slightly taken aback by this open display of support, the demon wolf gathered
his bearing by quickly calculating the new numbers, but since only one Alpha
had joined them, odds were still in his favour. So he crossed his arms and
asked, "And why would you help the Hale pack? Is that little boy-toy Talia had
offered really worth the effort? I could offer you a loan to buy him back, so
he properly belongs to you."
Derek had tensed at these words. Though he knew that Stiles had feelings for
him, that he loved him, it was still hard to hear how he had started with the
Stilinski-McCall pack. He had been nothing but a payment in place of four
million dollars. Yet Stiles did not allow these bleak thoughts to take root in
Derek's mind. Pulling him close when Derek joined the pack again, kissing him
for all wolves to see, Stiles smiled at him affectionately, before returning
his attention to Deucalion.
"Derek is not payment, he is my partner. And you are changing the subject. Make
a decision, Duke! Fight the Hale-pack. If you win, the woods are yours. But the
town will never be. If you lose I will make your life a lot harder in San
Francisco because you hurt my partner's family. Yet if you are open for a
diplomatic approach, I am willing to talk to you about, let's say San Jose and
all the cities in between. The wolves are your territory but if you work with
humans, sooner or later you have to deal with me. I think it would be much more
lucrative for the both of us if we could concede to a peaceful solution."
Sneering at this boy, Deucalion started, "And why would I," before interrupting
himself because he could hear someone approaching.
His wolves noticed as well and immediately started to form a protective circle.
No matter who joined them, they should be of no concern to an Alpha pack. Those
approaching however were.
Facing Stiles, a group of hunters, led by Chris Argent, stepped into the
clearing. They were not many, half a dozen at most, but every wolf could smell
the wolfsbane and several whined nervously.
Instinctively the wolves tried to pull back, but a soft reprehensive sound at
their backs made them whip around. Two dozen people stood at their backs,
dressed in various forms of clothing from modern to colonial. When the wolves
finally faced them, they allowed red to bleed into their eyes, black veins
spread over their face, centring on the eyes. They even grew canines,
resembling those of werewolves. A breath taking blonde woman stood at the
front. She had tilted her head, making the soft rebuking sound until all the
wolves were frozen in their track. Sweetly she said, "I belief Mr. Stilinski is
still expecting an answer."
Roaring in fury that this situation having gotten so far out of hand, Deucalion
demanded to know. "Who are you?"
Yet Stiles was the one to respond. His words were soft, contradicting the rage
of his potential business partner. "They are those under my care. People I
treat well. So they come when I call upon them."
Crossing the clearing, leaving his pack behind, something that clearly made his
wolves uneasy, Stiles approached Deucalion until he was standing eye to eye
with the demon wolf. "Business partners are important. I am offering to be
yours. Take the offer, Duke, and I promise we will both come out of this on
top."
Aware that he could not win this conflict, might even risk getting killed, but
still unable to give in that easily, he had to keep face in front of his pack,
he demanded, "San Jose, Los Angeles and all the way down to San Diego and the
Mexican border. If you can give that to me we have a deal."
Turning his head towards his pack, leaving his jugular and neck unprotected in
good faith, Stiles looked at Lydia. When the girl nodded, he turned around with
a grin, offering his hand. "The Mexican border and everything that lies beyond
belongs to the Desert Wolf. But if you are willing to work with the both of us,
twenty months and South California is yours."
With but a moment's hesitation, Deucalion took the offered hand. "Deal."
With that handshake the tension lifted. After a few chosen words, Stiles and
Deucalion agreed to meet in San Francisco in two days to discuss strategy.
                                     ~ * ~
The vampires had left as quietly as they had come and after a brief handshake
from Stiles and Alison the hunters left as well, leaving only the Hale and the
Stilinski-McCall pack on the clearing.
Peter was the first one to approach Stiles, asking flabbergasted, "You never
planned to let them fend for themselves."
Shaking his head at his newest pack-member, Stiles relaxed into Derek's strong
arms, his boyfriend had the comforting tendency to become very touchy when
Stiles had been in danger. "Of course not, Peter, they …"
Yet he did not get the chance to finish that sentence, because Talia approached
him. She seemed torn between anger and gratitude. Well aware that this night
could have ended with the eradication of her entire pack, yet irritated because
Stiles had barged into her affairs without even having the courtesy of
informing her beforehand. "Why the hell did you interfere?"
Turning towards Talia, while placing a calming hand on Isaac's arm, his
enforcer did not like someone jumping at his face like that, Stiles told the
Hale siblings, "Because whether you like it or not Alpha Hale, with Derek and
Peter in my pack, you are family by association. And I don't leave my family
hanging. And after all: this is my town, I know what's going on."
Taken aback by this verbal slap, Talia could only stagger, but not come up with
an adequate answer.
Stiles looked at Peter and asked softly, "Do you want to join your sister and
explain our 'company policy' to her? Maybe she would benefit from our view of
how family is supposed to act."
Looking first at his sister, then at Stiles, at Lydia and Aiden, who stood arm
in arm beside him, both ready to reach out should he join them, at Derek and
the true Alpha who was calming his boyfriend while his girlfriend still looked
guarded and the members of his old family, he smiled and shook his head. "No, I
think we have demonstrated to Talia how this family acts in a moment of crisis.
If she wants to know more," turning towards her he concluded, "you have my
number."
And with that Lydia, Aiden and Peter departed from the clearing. The rest of
the pack followed until only Stiles, Scott, Derek and Talia remained. Looking
at his partner's mother, Stiles tried to reach out once again. "You have all of
our numbers. You chose to severe business ties with us, Talia, that was not my
decision. I love your son and he loves me. I would wish there was a way for the
two of us to live and work together. The way it had been when dad was still
alive. But you have to make the first step. Because while I have your back, I
won't run after you just for the sake of a business opportunity I don't really
need."
It might be a harsh stab, alright it was one, but Stiles really couldn't get
over how Talia was treating her family, her own children. He had seen Laura and
Cora looking at both Peter and Derek most anxiously, but in the end they had
decided to stay with their mother. Stiles wanted nothing more than to give them
a chance for happiness. But they had to want it first, a leap of faith was
necessary, these girls did not seem to be ready to take. As long as they were
loyal to Talia, there was nothing he could do for them apart from keeping them
alive through such a crisis.
When they returned home, most of the pack had used the chance to run, one of
them to fly, they fell into their beds much relieved that every member of their
family – close and extended – were safe now.
                                     ~ * ~
After about an hour there was a soft knock on Stiles' bedroom door. When Stiles
rose and found Peter at the other side. The werewolf clearly was at war with
himself, yet found not the right words to express himself. In the end he forced
out, "Thank you, for helping my sister. And sorry … for misjudging you."
Smiling, Stiles stilled the wolf's fidgeting with a hand on Peter's arm. "It's
alright, Peter."
"No it's not!" Peter contradicted him, nearly pulling back his arm in reflex
before catching himself, remaining within touching distance. "I …"
Sighing slightly, the human stated quietly. "Yes, Peter. It really is."
Making a small gesture around the house, the boy continued. "I know the people
I welcome in my family and that includes you. I know what happened to you, what
you lost." When the werewolf tensed, Stiles tentatively reached out again.
Gently placing his hand on Peter's shoulder. "I also know, that – no matter how
hard it is for you to believe – the wolves in this house, those you have
bitten; they want you here. Not because you are such an asset or have such a
charming personality, but because you are you. With all the edges and corners
that make you. They love you, because you gave them a chance for a better life
and you will have to do a great many things to lose that love."
"They can't …," the werewolf contradicted his Alpha, pulling back again,
because the greater the distance, the easier it was for him to trick himself
into thinking that maybe he had overheard a stutter in Stiles' heartbeat when
he spoke about the love these kids had for him.
"Yet they do." The human shook his head. "It's alright Peter. It's alright that
you do not trust us. Give us time. Sooner or later we will be able to make you
understand that you – and those you care about – are important to us. That we
care about you, with all our hearts."
When Peter just stood there, mulled over words he wanted, but right now
couldn't belief to be true, Stiles tilted his head and smiled, retreating to
his bedroom. "Goodnight, Peter."
He listened to the werewolf approaching the door to Stiles' old room. He heard
him hesitating before turning around, entering Lydia and Aiden's room just down
the hall. Peter might not be ready to believe them but that didn't matter. They
had all the time in the world.
                                     ~ * ~
***** Domesticated *****
Chapter Summary
     What happens when an Alpha, thinks his wolves too domesticated.
Chapter Notes
     Though I am on holiday, my betareaders and I managed to get another
     chapter ready for you. I hope you will enjoy it.
After that, life got boring.
Sure they had quarrels with ambitious dealers and aloft hookers who decided
that they were above their rules. They had to concern themselves with theft and
people who tried to barge into their territory. But with Talia finally coming
around, taking care of a foreign wolf-pack, a pixie invasion and some kind of
wendigo-creature that roamed the woods around Beacon Hills, the Stilinski-
McCall pack only had to care about their own business for the first time since
Scott had been bitten.
With Deucalion's help, business flourished. They had met with the Demon Wolf in
San Francisco and had started further negotiations with the Desert Wolf. Lydia
had come up with a slow but fool-proof plan to requisition the towns from
central to south California within a year. The Duke gathered more followers,
wolf and human alike and except one small standoff, where the pack had come to
a negotiation armed with wolfs-bane bullets, the demon wolf had heeded their
agreement. He had not apologized for his attempt to rob them of their
territory, but neither Stiles nor Scott had expected him to. He was a cold-
hearted bastard but had pulled back easily in the end, because all parties were
aware that he owed Scott.
Before they knew it, it was the anniversary of Derek joining their pack. The
werewolf was confused when he found a black bracelet of polished steel on his
breakfast plate on Saturday morning. He could feel the magic it held when
holding it in his palm. Derek was about to return to the kitchen, where the
rest of the pack was preparing breakfast to ask about it, when two slender arms
wrapped around him from behind. Before the wolf could turn around, a smaller
bracelet was placed inside his own. The two were similar in making and looked
identical. The feeling of powerful magic only increased when the two bracelets
touched.
Brushing his lips over Derek's shoulder, Stiles whispered, "I was wondering if
… well, you have been with us for a year now. And I thought that maybe …"
Derek turned around and took a long look at his boyfriend, whose cheeks were
turning red. Sometimes the werewolf forgot how very young his human Alpha
actually was; how little experience Stiles had with long lasting relationships.
Not that Derek was any wiser. His one long-lasting relationship had ended with
… resolutely Derek pushed that thought away. Now was not the time to dwell on
that. Gently brushing his fingers over his partner's chin, forcing Stiles to
meet his eyes and stop rambling, Derek chuckled, "Are you asking me if I want
to go steady with you?"
Taking a deep breath, Stiles called himself a fool. He had spent many evenings
at Deaton's finishing these bracelets. In his everyday life he was responsible
for so many people. Still he felt like the teenager he was, when facing Derek,
talking about their relationship. Looking into his werewolf's beautiful eyes,
Stiles whispered, "When you woke up in that hospital I told you that I love
you. But I also told you that I would let you go, should you find somebody
else, someone better suited for you …"
Derek interrupted Stiles with a kiss, because his boyfriend was so very stupid.
"I told you that there is no one better suited for me. I love you, Stiles, and
I have been steady with you ever since you put that first collar on me, and the
second, even when you took it off. I would love to wear these, just because you
made them."
"But you don't even know what they do?" Stiles reminded Derek. "There is strong
magic woven into them. It could be harmful."
Derek breathed against Stiles adorable nose, "I trust you," before putting the
bracelet on. Pain laced through his body for a heartbeat and he dug his fingers
into the human's shoulders. When Stiles reached for his own, Derek could see
the teenager's face contorting in pain as well before both relaxed. Looking at
the band, Derek noticed that it was now solid. Shaking off the pain he asked
curiously, "You enjoy putting bands on me I can't remove, do you?"
With a low chuckle, Stiles presented his own wrist. His bracelet had sealed
itself as well. He pulled on it experimentally before holding his hand out to
Derek. "Take it off."
"But how should I?" the werewolf pondered. The band looked solid enough, too
strong for him to tear it apart without hurting Stiles.
With a small smile, Stiles prompted him again, "Just try."
Confused, Derek put his fingers on the metal and the moment he pried on it, it
came off on its own. Looking at it, holding it against the light, he glanced at
Stiles in amazement until the boy explained. "It's a … well, the bracelets are
a beacon. Should we ever get separated, we can find each other, no matter where
we are. No matter if we are under or above ground, surrounded by nature,
concrete or wood. Wind the chain of the scrying-crystal around the bracelet and
you will be able to find me. The same goes the other way around. With enough
magic you won't even need a crystal. You should be able to sense the direction
I am."
"You made us magical locator beacons? Jewels nobody but us can take off?" Derek
looked at the spark with stunned amazement. He knew that Stiles still had
nightmares about Derek's abduction and his time at the hospital. During the
last seven months Derek had woken more than once to his partner's pained cries
at night. When Derek had had business to conduct in San Jose once, Scott had
told him afterwards that Stiles had barely slept at all, despite the pack
taking turns sleeping by his side. But being the boy he was, the teenager had
not wallowed his fears but had done something about them. Stiles' nightmares
had receded over the last few weeks and now Derek knew why.
When Stiles reached for Derek's bracelet, to show that it opened the same way,
the werewolf covered the long fingers with his own and shook his head. "Leave
it. I like the idea of locator beacons. That way I can catch you, should you
ever try to run from me."
"Why should I ever try to run from you?" Stiles asked.
Derek only chuckled. "Because I'm a wolf and I enjoy a good hunt."
Smiling brilliantly, because both could imagine the outcome of such a chase,
Stiles pondered. "Well, maybe we should do something about that. We wouldn't
want your sharp senses getting rusty because you are always using cars
nowadays."
With a low growl, Derek pulled Stiles closer, nipping at his jaw. "Are you
calling me domesticated?"
"Well," Stiles wiggled in Derek's arms. "If the shoe fits?"
The growl got louder but was soon drowned by Stiles' giggles because Derek was
teasing the sensitive skin of his neck with his sharp canines. Stiles was
tempted to trap the wolf in a circle of mountain-ash to get a head-start.
Melissa would free him in a minute anyway, but she chose that very moment to
enter the dining room, carrying a plate full of sizzling bacon.
The smell of breakfast put the idea of a hunt out of Stiles' mind. Yet the idea
stuck and a little while after breakfast, he held council with his fellow human
and demonic pack-members. The full moon would be tomorrow night and since they
were on good terms with Talia again, maybe they could risk running in the
woods? They would have to find a way to split the territory so that they
wouldn't disturb the Hales, but they all liked the idea of challenging their
wolves to a treasure hunt with them as treasures. They could not outrun them,
but they were resourceful. They would find a way to make it challenging.
                                     ~ * ~
The next night they all huddled up in the cinema like always. Lydia was the
first to get up, leaving Aiden and Peter leaning against each other, starring
at the bright explosions on the screen. Danny was next, nudging his boyfriend
to join his twin, excusing himself. Allison excused herself, leaving her
boyfriends behind, pretending to go to the ladies room. Stiles was last and
when he emerged from his room not five minutes later, wearing nothing but worn
jeans and a partially torn shirt, Danny and the girls grinned at him. The
incubus had chosen a pair of dark leather trousers that did amazing things for
his ass. Allison too had jeans that were close to indecent and a top that
barely qualified as a bra, let alone covered enough of her chest to not get her
arrested for public indecency. Lydia was … well, for her own standards she
looked positively ragged. But the high boots combined with an artfully torn
skirt and a blouse that barely had enough fabric left to cover her chest made
her look like every boy's wet dream come true.
When Danny and Stiles raised their eyebrows at her, she threw her ponytail over
her shoulder, pointing out indignantly, "Well, we all know what will happen to
the clothes we wear once our wolves find us. I refuse to wear something
salvageable."
"Your wolves?" Stiles asked, "Are you including Peter?" Thinking about the risk
a free-running werewolf could pose to a woman as fragile as Lydia, Stiles all
of a sudden doubted their plan. "Lyds, if you think that Peter is too much of a
risk …"
Brushing away Stiles' concerns, Lydia assured the Alpha, "Peter knows exactly
how far he can go. He knows that Aiden is my partner and won't risk challenging
his wolf. We are …," huffing she shook her head. "You know, this is none of
your concern, Stiles Stilinski. I thought you said our ride would be here at
nine."
Pulling Lydia's fingers to his lips, brushing an adoring kiss over them before
placing the girl's hand on his elbow, Stiles gestured towards the front of the
house. "Your carriage is ready for you, my queen. Everything shall commerce as
planned."
Danny, all chevalier, offered his own elbow to Allison with a deep bow, and
together the four left the house.
Jasper had agreed to pick them up with a car he had just used for another
client. That would mask their scent to some extent and when they entered the
limousine Lydia wrinkled her nose. "Who do you drive, frat boys?"
Spills of alcohol covered the floor. But not champagne or whiskey, as most
adults who paid for a limousine would prefer, but cheap sparkly wine and beer,
saturated the air in the car.
"High School students," Jasper grinned. "What better to mask your scent than
teenage hormones?"
When they were around two corners, both Danny and Stiles opened their windows.
Danny inhaled flatly. "We should have used herbal bombs or meat packages. That
would have been less obnoxious."
Chuckling under his breath, Stiles asked his demon, "Did you just really
suggest that we throw packages of raw meat on our lawn to distract our werewolf
boyfriends?"
Danny only shrugged before they started to discuss one last time the route they
were about to take. They would enter the woods in the south, pass trees and a
stream and Danny would even carry them a short distance. It was unfair but the
four had faith that their wolves would find them.
                                     ~ * ~
The moon was already high in the sky when the first movie was through and the
pack realized that their humans had not returned. They decided to investigate,
not overly concerned because their Alpha didn't seem bothered. Stiles had told
Scott that he had planned something, but for once his brother from another
mother had not shared any details. Still the wolf smelled no distress but giddy
joy in the house, so they took their time looking through their rooms.
After a few moments, they all returned to the hall, each bringing strange items
to show. Liam was playing with a juggling ball he had found on his pillow and
compared it to the soft, chew-toy Ethan had gathered. Erica and Boyd emerged
from their room. She held a pink collar with sparkling stones and Boyd a
matching lash. Ethan and Peter both had a squeaky toy-bone and Isaac and Scott
found soft, cuddly dog-blankets with little bones printed all over them.
Everybody was looking at each other in confusion, until Derek emerged from his
and Stiles' bedroom laughing out loud. He held a dog-bed, clearly intended for
a terrier or an even smaller brand of dog. It was all stuffed and soft and had
the words "Derek" written on the label at the front. "Domesticated my ass!" The
werewolf growled, looking at the pack with shining blue eyes, when they gazed
at him in bewilderment.
"Stiles called me domesticated just yesterday. Told me that I couldn't find him
in a proper hunt, hence he gave me this," holding up his hand that showed the
bracelet. Of course the rest of the pack knew about the new magic item Stiles
had exhausted himself making. They also had listened in on their conversation …
discreetly.
Grinning wolfishly, Peter pondered, "So we are supposed to give chase?" He
rolled his head on his shoulders, calling forth the change that was much
stronger, more painful but infinitely more joyous on a full moon than it was
during the rest of the month.
Showing his teeth, red eyes nearly illuminating the corridor, Scott growled
excited, "Let's hunt ourselves some humans."
                                     ~ * ~
It was glorious. There really was no other word.
When the pack, half transformed, had thundered down the stairs, Melissa had
just entered the house. Lucky her, she was not on duty tonight, looking forward
to a relaxing evening at home. When facing the entire wolf-pack, she merely
chuckled and opened the door again. It was dark already, so the chances for
someone noticing something strange were pretty slim. When the wolves barged out
she whistled after them. As one, the pack stopped and turned towards her. With
a benevolent smile, she pointed south, laughing when her kids scrambled over
each other trying to change direction.
Of course Stiles had let her in on the plan. He had wanted a head-start but not
for their wolves to be alone for too long on an emotionally charged night as
this. Had the pack not noticed their absence by now, Melissa would have pointed
it out. But as it where, she could take a hot bath, have some maybe not
entirely healthy food and enjoy a romance flick on the TV she would never admit
to watching were the kids around.
The pack was running. There were no scents to go by, for now it was all
eagerness and energy that egged them on. But when they entered the woods the
wolves slowed down, scenting the air, spreading out, searching for a trail of
their mates. Lucky for them, the humans had decided to stay together. Danny had
suggested separating but since they were in the territory of another pack,
Stiles had not wanted to risk it. So the wolves could stay within each other's
line of sight, enjoying a late-night run through the woods. Their scent was
thick in the air and the wolves were drawn by it.
A stream slowed them down for a while because the trail vanished in the water.
After nearly half an hour Ethan captured Danny's pheromones and off they were
again at top speed. Derek and Peter – familiar with these woods – stayed close
to Scott right from the beginning. They were not overly worried that their
family would find them. Stiles would not lead them into danger.  But running
with their new pack, their new family, sensing the pack-bond, was more than any
of the two could have ever hoped for. With the Hale's they had gone for a run
on the full moon, but it had been a hunt for food, to enjoy a feast when they
came back home. It had been every wolf for him- or herself. But with these
teenagers they ran just for fun, surrounded by people they cared about, maybe
even loved.
In the middle of a clearing the trail went cold. The humans were nowhere to be
seen, yet their trail stopped. After a few moments of confusion, Ethan's amused
laugh made the pack turn towards him. They followed his gaze into the air where
millions of stars illuminated the night sky beside a brilliant full moon and
mirrored his laugh at his one-word explanation: "Danny."
Of course, the incubus had the capacity to fly and since none of their humans
were very heavy, he could carry them, at least a short distance, easily. Yet it
apparently was enough for the wolves not to be able to pick up their scent
again. They were discussing how to best go on and Scott was currently dividing
the pack into small groups to search for their trail, when Derek looked at his
wrist. Stiles had told him that with enough magic, Derek would not need a map
and a crystal to find him. And when was there more magic coursing through a
werewolf's veins than on the night of a full moon?
Deciding that it was worth a shot, Derek called for the others. "I may have an
idea." He held up his wrist, showing the bracelet.
Liam was the first to approach him. The boy was eager to get moving again, but
knew as much as everybody else that it would be of no use to run randomly into
any direction. "You think you can find our Alpha with it?"
Shrugging, Derek told him, "Stiles thought so."
They formed a circle, holding hands, nobody minded the claws picking at their
skins. Derek felt strong. The sense of pack washed through them, amplified
though the physical contact burning like a pyre in the best way possible. When
he looked up he saw that Peter felt it as well. For these children, this ragtag
family of abandoned teenagers this was normal, the way a family was supposed to
work. Being connected, caring about the other, but for Derek and Peter this was
special. A gift they had never imagined receiving and when Derek closed his
eyes again, concentrating on the pack-bond all he needed was one thought:
Stiles.
There was a beacon, not far from them, burning brighter than the light of a
full moon, warmer and far more compelling. The feeling was like the sun and the
moon and the stars because the source of the beacon was love personified for
every last member of this pack. Stiles would die for every single one of them
them and they all knew it. That inspired a loyalty unparalleled in their world,
connecting them to each other and most importantly to Stiles. With but a
moment's hesitation Derek was off, running through the woods, the pack hot on
his heels.
In barely five minutes they reached the bottom of a small cliff, fifteen feet
high tops. The scent of their humans was there but faint and the wolves
scrambled around, eager to find them. A small chuckle, carried down by the wind
made them look up, finally spotting their prey. Stiles was standing at the very
top, looking down at them with pride. Lydia and Allison were on either side of
him, and Derek could sense their girls partners growling with desire. Danny was
crouched by Stiles' leg, half wrapped around the teenager, his body black,
completely transformed.
It was a sight of their boundless trust that the girls stepped to the edge,
letting themselves fall forward, not a single doubt in their minds that their
wolves would catch them. Of course Scott and Isaac, as well as Aiden and Peter
did so, wrapping around the girls, scenting them rubbing all over them in a
heartbeat. Stiles chose a more dramatic approach. When Danny rose, the teenager
let the incubus carry them down. The moment the two reached the forest floor
Stiles was surrounded by pack. They all touched him and scented him, triumphant
that they had finally found him.
Their second full moon out of the house and they all rejoiced in the freedom it
brought.
                                     ~ * ~
***** The Hale Pack *****
Chapter Summary
     Feast with the Hales. (It's all Stiles' fault ;).)
Chapter Notes
     We still are on the night of the full moon. And all the wolves are
     having fun.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
The pack crowded on the clearing for a scant few minutes before Isaac dragged
Alison and Scott around the corner of the boulder. Aiden followed the example,
taking Lydia's hand, going into the other direction. Peter was following them
as if pulled by an invisible lash. Erica pulled Boyd down to the floor and
Danny swept Ethan into his arms and returned to the top of the boulder. The
incubus enjoyed the idea of having nearly everybody within his line of sight.
Tonight he would gorge himself on the passion of his pack.
Derek was nervous and jittery. Every part of his wolf told him to touch, to
claim, even when he knew that he was not in the position to do so. He belonged
to Stiles, heart, body and soul and had to wait for his human, his Alpha to
make the first move. The teenager seemed oblivious to the tension in the air.
He started strolling into the woods until he reached a big, old tree.
Turning around, the look in Stiles eyes nearly made the werewolf's topple over
his own feet. The gaze was pure seduction and Derek was unable to rein himself
in any longer. With a guttural growl he crowded Stiles against the tree, tore
at the teenager's shirt, burying his face in the skin he revealed.
Enjoying his lover's passion, the boy arched back, pressed his naked chest
against his wolf and grinded against him. Ever since the pack had reached the
clearing, Danny's pheromones had spiked, the promise of imminent sex too strong
for him to resist. That, combined with the fact that Derek had only worn dark
jeans and little else, had had Stiles hot and bothered in no time and now that
he finally felt blessed friction against his cock, he arched against his wolf,
needing more.
For a few moments they were grinding against each other, tasting, licking,
kissing, sloppy, hungry, perfect! Stiles felt his peak drawing nearer, an
explosion of passion pending and he downright growled when Derek pulled back.
Though Derek enjoyed his partner's pliancy, it was not nearly enough to satisfy
his needs. Stiles' intoxicating scent was overwhelming yet not enough. The
moment he had a little room, the werewolf sank to his knees in front of his
lover and buried his face in Stiles' still clothed crotch. His claws made it
impossible for him to ease away the fabric that confined his prize. Frowning at
his hands Derek pleadingly looked up at his human when Stiles chuckled lowly,
opening the buttons of his jeans one by one. He was not fast enough, but
ripping the trousers apart would not have been fast enough for Derek's current
state of mind. So he tried to be patient until Stiles' cock sprang free.
Mindful of his teeth, he bounced forward and swallowed Stiles down. The
teenager's shout echoed through the night, evoking a blissful howl from the
other members of his pack. Derek knew what his boyfriend liked by now, so he
needed but a few short moments to have Stiles spill into his mouth. The
teenager was panting heavily above him when the wolf licked at his most
sensitive part, eager to reach every last drop.
Stiles had to blink a few times to regain his bearings. The first orgasm and
the joy his pack felt during the full moon was heady and nearly overwhelming
for the spark. He felt Danny's pull and when he lifted his head, he could see
his incubus dark wings against the night-sky, huge and majestic, despite
kneeling over Ethan. Oh yes, their demon could drink his fill as well tonight,
he would come out of it stronger than anyone could imagine. Stiles
instinctively latched on to the energy surrounding him, storing it away like
his grandmother had told him he could. When looking down at his wolf, he found
Derek all hot and bothered at his feet. The wolf had opened his trousers as
well, the dark material painfully constricting his rock-hard cock. Yet instead
of aiming for relief, Derek looked up at Stiles, waiting for directions.
The wolf nearly was in control. The pelt on Derek's face and his burning blue
eyes were a clear tell. But still, his lover waited for him to make a decision.
Well, Stiles had made it days ago, so he scratched Derek's neck comfortingly to
calm him down a little. Stiles revelled in the way his wolf leaned into the
caress. A year ago, the werewolf had been but a loan, scared of his position in
a family he had known nothing about. Nevertheless, he had caught a bullet for
Stiles on their first evening. His devotion had been out of the question right
from the beginning and tonight he would get his reward.
So slowly, teasingly, Stiles toed off his shoes and shed his jeans. He could
see the admiration in his boyfriend's gaze when he looked up, barely holding
back his need to touch, to claim, to take. Well, tonight he wouldn't have to.
Slowly, oh so slowly, Stiles turned around, allowing Derek to watch his front,
before presenting his enticing backside. Immediately the wolf bounded closer,
whining under his breath, but still not daring to touch. Such strength, such
restraint, Stiles truly was blessed to have him.
Steadying himself against the rough bark of the tree, Stiles looked over his
shoulder, capturing Derek's gaze. Huskily, he prompted, "Come on. We both know
you want this. I'm all yours."
The teenager had expected an attack; to be pushed against the bark of the tree,
being forced to stand his ground against the strength of a shifted wolf.
However, Derek's touch was slow, almost reverent when he reached for Stiles'
skin. His fingers were shaking as if he couldn't believe that he was allowed to
touch and for a few minutes, all the werewolf did was caress Stiles' backside,
his thighs, his back, inhaling deeply the scent that was unique to his partner.
"Come on, big guy. I'm not going to break."
Derek's touch, his tongue on Stiles' backside was still hesitant. The werewolf
seemed afraid that Stiles would change his mind any second. But the longer the
teenager stood unmoving, allowing his partner to savour him, the bolder the
werewolf got. Stiles cursed the need for self-restraint because since the first
touch of Derek's soft lips he had wanted to push back, to demand attention his
body was craving desperately. But tonight was for Derek, so they would go at
the wolf's pace.
Derek had the mind to change back before sinking his finger into Stiles body,
and he nearly howled at the blissful feeling of his human surrounding him. But
soon it was not enough and the first finger was followed by a second and a
third. Derek pulled Stiles' discomfort, any potential pain, because he wanted
his partner to enjoy this as much as he did. And before long fingers were not
enough either. Stiles snarled for Derek to get on with it, evoked a quiet
chuckle from the wolf.
When his human looked over his shoulder, eyes burning with need, Derek was
amazed that such a beautiful person had chosen him over all the other people
available. "Get on with it, wolf boy or I will do it myself!"
Always so demanding …
Eager to follow this demand, Derek didn't hesitate for a second, he was
teetering at the edge of his control. With a low growl, he straightened behind
Stiles and shed his trousers. Covering Stiles body from behind, burying his
face in his partner's neck, Derek rubbed himself against the teenager, slicking
Stiles' backside with the copious amounts of precum he was leaking.
When they made love in the bedroom, lubricant was available, but here, in the
woods, they had to be a little more creative. When Stiles snarled again, Derek
eased his way into his body and at Stiles insistent shove back, he couldn't
swallow the howl when he buried balls-deep in his lover.
Derek had been on top before, many times actually because he had always had an
intense dislike of bottoming after Kate. But this, this was different. Being
joined with Stiles, the feelings that filled Derek at this union were as
different from his former lovers as a new moon was from a blue moon. This was
so much better, filling Derek's heart with everything that was Stiles, leaving
no room for anything else.
His claws embedded in the bark beside Stiles' head, hurting the tree because he
had to hold on to something or he would get washed away by the overwhelming
sensation. His Alpha's fingers on his nape, lovingly scratching over the furry
skin, combined with whispers of sweet nonsense brought Derek back enough to
give a few hesitant trusts. Stiles leaned back against him, putting his head on
Derek's shoulder, presenting his unprotected neck broke Derek's restraint.
Nearly completely transformed, Derek reached around his human's waist. He
pulled the teenager away from the tree and shoved him down to the soft forest
floor. Arms caging the lean body, the werewolf started to fuck him in earnest
and despite the sheer brutality of the act, Stiles' noises of approval egged
him on.
Derek wanted more, wanted everything. The heat and the smell of Stiles
surrounding him made this union a singular experience. When he felt his orgasm
approaching, he buried his sharp teeth in Stiles' neck, claiming the last of
him that had not belonged to the wolf.
The pain, combined with the pleasure seemed to push Stiles over the edge as
well, because after only a few rough strokes of his cock, the teenager spilled,
barely a moment after he had had Derek's hot seed filling him.
When Derek came back to his senses, the first thing he smelled was Stiles'
blood, since the wound was right in front of his face. Whining pitifully, the
werewolf started to lick it, despite knowing that this was not the proper way
to deal with a bite.
Sinking to the side, taking Derek with him, Stiles giggled when they found a
comfortable position on the forest floor, high on endorphins and sex. "Don't
worry, big guy. I've had worse."
Burying his face in Stiles neck, ashamed of his lack of restraint, Derek
whispered, "I'm sorry. I couldn't help it. I should have …"
"Hey," Stiles wiggled free from Derek's vice-like grip, turning in his lover's
arms. "It's alright. I promise." Lovingly brushing his fingertips over Derek's
still prominent canines, Stiles arched up to place a tender kiss on them. "It's
okay. I knew what I was getting myself into. I wanted this, so very much. So
don't regret it. Please."
Pulling Stiles on top of himself, burying his face in the boy's hair, Derek
whispered, "I don't regret it. I could never regret being with you. You are the
best thing that has ever happened to me; everything I have ever wanted and
everything I never hoped to get. If it were up to me I would broadcast our
relationship for the entire world to see."
                                     ~ * ~
"Well, you kind of did, little brother." A voice from beside them teased.
"Every wolf in a one mile radius will smell how you marked your human tonight."
With a snarl Derek nearly shot up, had Stiles not kept him down by insistently
pushing his shoulder, whispering into his ear, "You will stay down, wolf-boy,
because I have no intention of flashing your sister my junk!"
A possessive snarl made Laura turn around, presenting her unprotected backside
to the pack, leaving Derek and Stiles to put on their jeans and shoes. The rest
of the pack was – more or less – clothed as well, when Stiles and Derek stepped
back into the clearing with Laura by their side. If the female werewolf found
it strange that a demon was carrying a wolf down a cliff, despite said wolf
being perfectly able to jump on his own, she didn't mention it. Instead she
addressed Scott respectfully, "Alpha McCall, my mother would be honoured if you
and your pack would join our full moon feast tonight."
After a brief gaze toward Stiles, because that invitation – combined with their
intrusion into the Hale's pack territory – had his best friend's handwriting
all over it. After a confirming nod from his co-Alpha, Scott agreed "We would
be delighted."
Lydia had been the only one who had refused to step forward, since Aiden had
torn her top. Peter shrugged off his mostly intact dress-shirt offering it to
the girl. She would be covered in his scent if she wore that now, as much as
she smelled of Aiden due to their love-making. But the girl didn't seem too
bothered. Clad in the scent of both of her wolves she started running with the
others towards the Hale mansion.
                                     ~ * ~
The Hales stopped on the lawn of their former home. They remembered the full
moons with their family; the hunts, where everybody had cared only for himself.
They came empty handed, so Peter and Derek hesitated to join a feast where they
could not offer any food. Without a prey you would sit at the dining-table
starving, until another wolf took mercy on them and shared his kill. It had
been humiliating in the past but they hadn't questioned it. That's just the way
hunts worked.
Now it felt like they would choke on the situation. Especially because they had
seen how a family was supposed to act, with everybody caring about the other.
No matter that the Stilinski-McCall pack acted like a bunch of wolves when
sitting down for a meal, they always cared that the food was shared equally and
that nobody would stay hungry.
Yet when Talia opened the back-door, eyes burning a bright red, a wave of
roasted meat hit them. There was beef and deer from the smell of it, baked
potatoes and garlic-bread. Dip and salad and many other delicious dishes
overloaded a table where a part of their family had already chosen a seat.
Still, nobody had started eating. They were all looking at the pack of
teenagers, Derek and Peter had chosen over them.
As one the Hale-pack rose from their seats and stepped out into the back
garden. One by one they reached for a member of the neighbouring pack and
guided them to their seats. Nobody had forgotten how tight their position had
been half a year ago, when facing the demon-wolf. The Stilinski-McCall pack had
dipped into their substantial resources to support them and had demanded
nothing in return. Now, the day of the first trade, Stiles … Alpha Stilinski
had asked for a shared meal. For the first time in forever, their Alpha had
asked their opinion and everybody had gone out of their way to provide for
their guests.
Laura was the one standing before Derek, offering her hand while Cora
approached Peter. Both hesitated only for a second before wrapping themselves
around the girls, following them into the house. Talia made an inviting gesture
towards both Scott and Stiles and offered them a place on her right side. The
left was claimed by her husband as it should be.
The rest of the pack filtered in and in the end, with Stiles and Scott as the
only exception, there was always a member of the Hale-pack sitting beside a
member of the Stilinski-McCall-pack. Smiling at each other, they all raised
their glasses in a wordless toast. There were too many things to say about this
new, growing alliance, but tonight was about the wolves and the joy of being
with the people that mattered the most. After Talia, Scott and even Stiles had
taken their share of food, the rest of the pack started to ravage the dishes.
The groans of bliss were enough to tell Stiles how very much his wolves enjoyed
the meal.
After a few minutes, Stiles lifted his glass again towards Talia and stated
quietly, "Thank you for your invitation. It means a lot to my family."
Cleaning her lips with a napkin, as if she had not just torn into a partial leg
of a deer with her canines, Talia nodded in agreement. "I was too proud. I
guess it was good that you offered support the way you did, just like family
should. I am sure that together we can achieve great things, Alpha Stilinski."
A collective exhale dispelled the last tension the Stilinski-McCall pack had
carried. To them it was natural to have two Alphas, but to hear Talia Hale
acknowledging Stiles' position was comforting. After that, the two packs
started to tease and prod each other a little and the sun was already rising
when they were laughing together as if this full-moon feast was a common
occurrence and not the first of its kind.
Rooms were offered and Stiles and Scott decided that they would gratefully
accept the invitation, too tired, too comfortable and far too full to run home
at the moment. Within an hour the dishes from the feast were cleaned or fed to
the dish-washer. Every last pack-member had found a soft bed or couch to sleep
off the excitement of this month's full moon.
                                     ~ * ~
Peter was lying in his old bed, watching the dark shades that kept most of the
rising sun out of his room. It was a generous space he had called his own in
this house, meant for him and his beloved wife. There even was a small room
attached to it that should have belonged to their unborn child. He had never
sat foot into it after the fire, the pain too great to look at what he had
lost.
Tonight's full moon he had spent both with his new family and his old one. He
had joined the teenagers in the treasure hunt, eager to reach Lydia who had
escaped both him and Aiden. When Aiden had finally 'captured' their female, the
couple had allowed him in their proximity as they did in their bedroom most of
the time. Things had been more intimate tonight than the three had been used
to, but they had enjoyed it all the same. Peter had felt like he finally
belonged, but now, here, in his old room in his old bed, he didn't feel the
triumph he had expected.
He had the proof that his new pack accepted him and that his status in his old
one was still upheld. He deserved this, as an Alpha loyal to Talia he deserved
favoured treatment. Lydia and Aiden had claimed a love-seat in the living room,
the boy firmly wrapped around the girl, keeping her on his chest so they could
both sleep on the narrow sofa. Yet, despite all the luxury that surrounded him,
Peter felt alone and empty without the two of them near.
He was aware that Lydia would never belong to him, so why was he craving her
presence? It was ridiculous, something he could never have, because despite the
picture Aiden and Lydia presented the world: she was the genius and he was her
faithful boyfriend, Peter had learned that there was far less power imbalance
in their relationship than everybody assumed at first glance. True, Lydia was
the driving force and Aiden nearly docile in his following. But when you looked
closer, when you saw how Lydia was watching her partner, how she did countless
things every day, be it grand gestures like buying him a new knife when he had
laid his eyes on one in the mall or small ones like wearing his favourite skirt
or doing her hair the way he liked it, the girl was as inclined to make her
wolf as happy as he did in return.
So Peter was well aware that barely a faint suggestion of Aiden was needed for
him to be excluded from their lives. If Aiden gave the slightest indication
that he didn't want Peter to be a part of their relationship as much as he was
now, Lydia would never look at him again. Her devotion to her wolf was
absolute.
So why was Peter craving something so fragile? He had taken the things he had
set his eyes upon his entire life. His wife had belonged to him and would never
have thought of looking at another. She had loved him and he had loved her and
losing her had destroyed a part of him. He could never have that with Lydia.
The girl already belonged to a wolf so why …
Reaching for the collar around his neck, adjusting it because the clasp had
gotten stuck in the soft covers, Peter closed his eyes and called himself a
fool. Realization had often hurt him in the past. Like realizing that he wanted
more than Talia was willing to give him. Like understanding that the desperate
teenagers he had chosen were not strong enough for him to use them as a power
base. Like finally seeing how very wrong he had been with the wolves he had
created in the first place. But tonight understanding came like a soft exhale,
a burden lifting from his chest. And finally he was able to draw breathe again.
Lydia would never belong to him but that did not matter.
Rising from his bed, tabbing quietly into the living-room where Erica and Boyd
had claimed the couch, Peter silently approached Lydia and Aiden. Placing a
soft hand on the wolf's shoulder, he looked into burning blue eyes, before they
blinked human again. Carefully, Peter picked up Lydia from Aiden's chest,
carrying her to his room, feeling the teenager's hand at the small of his back,
steadying him on his way up the stairs.
Aiden pulled back the covers so that Peter could place the genius, human girl
in the middle of his generous bed, before sliding under them again, curling
into himself next to Lydia. The other wolf looked towards him over his
girlfriend's shoulder, reaching for Peter's hand, squeezing it comfortingly
before placing it on the girl's hips, securing her between Peter on one side
and Aiden on the other. The teenager wrapped his arm around her chest from
behind, sinking back to sleep without having made a single sound. Aiden had
known all along, and Peter was not even surprised.
Inhaling the smell of the two people most important to him these days, Peter
was finally able to relax and drifted into a restful sleep. No, Lydia would
never belong to him, she already had a wolf. But that didn't matter, because
ever since the beginning of this year Peter belonged to her. To her and Aiden
and in finally giving in to that knowledge, he was able to gain a peace he had
not known since the night of the fire that had robbed him of his very heart.
Maybe, with the help of these two teenagers, he could regain it.
                                     ~ * ~
The_very_same_night_somewhere_in_Beacon_Hills:
A male voice, sounded uncertain in the darkness, "Do you really think we are
ready?"
A somewhat familiar, female voice, answered calm and without any lingering
doubt, "We have spent several months preparing for this. We can deal with man
and wolf. Believe me, we are ready!"
Doubt was evident when the man spoke again, "We have tried twice. We never
succeeded. What makes you think this time will be different?"
"Because, my dear friend," the cold and calculating voice of the woman
answered, "this time there is no pretence, no 'official' story to keep in mind.
We will pick them off one by one and they won't even know what is coming."
                                     ~ * ~
Chapter End Notes
     I'm afraid this will be If the last chapter for quite some time. I
     had a car accident, and broke my hand. Since am currently writing the
     ending of this story, I don't want to start posting it before its
     finished. With a broken hand this might take a while. Please be
     patient with me, I promise it will be worth it, I'm already halfway
     through.
***** Danny & Stiles *****
Chapter Summary
     The Beginning of the End.
Chapter Notes
     Thank you all so very much for your patience. I know that I kept you
     waiting pretty long, but since I am still handicapped, everything
     needed so much more time. My cast is coming off on the 11th of March.
     I am so looking forward to that day.
     Since I won't write a note for the other chapters, I want to thank
     Memprime and Wecantgiggleatacrimescene one last time. They were such
     supportive and encouraging betareaders. Thank you two so very much
     for all your help. You made my story so much better.
     One final WARNING before you start. Please read the updated tags. You
     are - and that's no joke - in for a world of pain, punishment and
     humiliation. You will get pretty quickly where this is heading, just,
     if the dark stuff is too much for you, skip the parts in italic. The
     story is worth reading even without them. But they are as dark as
     this story ever got.
     It's Saturday, so I post this ending all in one go, please collect a
     fluffy blanket a stuffed toy of your choice and maybe some hot
     chocolate. Believe me, you will need them.
     Thank you all for your love, good wishes and support. It was a joy to
     make this journey with you.
     Love Anchanee
It had hurt, so very much. The pain had been so much that by now Danny's entire
body was consumed by it. The boy wanted to move, but his sore limbs protested
far too much to try. His head was spinning from a sickly sweet smell so he
simply closed his eyes again, hoping that his headache would be gone when he
woke up.
When the incubus came around again, he found himself snuggled between his pack-
members. A movie was playing in their home-cinema but he couldn't make out what
it was. Hunger was gnawing at his very soul and before he could make a
conscious choice, Ethan was there, petting his hair, smiling down at him,
offering a kiss. His partner only needed very little prompting to lean down and
deepen their contact. Danny enforced Ethan's desire and the passion he was
rewarded with in return, nearly stole his breath. Eager and hungry, he kissed
his boyfriend. He took what his partner offered so easily and purred when the
wolf sank into the cushions, eyes closed with a blissful smile on his face.
Boyd was closest. The teenager looked at the incubus and with an impish smile,
one dark skinned hand pulled Erica closer and the three were locked in a
passionate kiss soon thereafter. Their desire tasted even sweeter than Ethan's
and before long, Danny had them peaking as well. Crawling over their senseless
bodies, the demon took Lydia and Aiden when the girl sank down with a smile. He
kissed Peter and Derek, Scott and Allison and Isaac at last, drinking his fill
on their passion. He felt full and saturated, humming with power.
He opened his eyes when Stiles came in, carrying a tray of ice-cream and
several spoons. His master would benefit from the power the pack had shared
with their incubus. Like a giant cat, Danny rolled from the lowest step of
their cushioned staircase and approached Stiles, crawling gracefully. The
teenager however, didn't seem to have eyes for him. Blinking at their friends,
stunned into speechlessness, he let go of the tray and all the spoons and the
ice-cream containers tumbled to the floor. Staggering, the Don of the Stilinski
family reached for Ethan, then for Boyd and Scott, for Allison and finally for
Derek. Stiles voice was broken when he whispered, "How could you? How could you
do that? You had no right!"
Confused as of why his master was so upset, Danny rose to his knees and cold
dread filled his stomach, when he realized that his friends had not fallen
asleep after he had fed from them. Lifeless and grey they lay in their cinema,
not a single one of them breathing any longer.
"I didn't …," he started, "I didn't mean to. Stiles, I …" Anxious, tears
welling in his eyes, the incubus turned towards his master, but there was no
compassion in the teenager's gaze, only dread and cold fury.
"Of all the things you could have done, Daniel," the teenager started, eyes
ablaze with rightful anger and magic, "this is the only thing I cannot
forgive." Lifting his hands, energy sparking between them, Stiles reached for a
midnight-blue line, the bond between them, made visible by his master. "I
hereby renounce you, Daniel Mahealani. From this day on our bond shall be
broken. Whatever happens to you from now on is none of my concern."
Danny screamed when his soul was ripped apart, the moment Stiles broke their
bond. He did not even fight when Jordan slapped cuffs on his wrist to cart him
off to prison. All he could do was scream and scream and scream through the
agonizing pain that filled his entire being at being unhinged and utterly
alone.
                                     ~ – ~
Stiles was drifting in and out of consciousness. He was hurting and his head
felt heavy, there had been something … something bad had happened, but for the
life of it, the teenager could not remember what.
All of a sudden, Stiles was back in the woods during the very night that Scott
had received the bite. Yet instead of staying by his best friend’s side, Stiles
ran away, leaving Scott behind do deal with what had just happened alone.
The next day at school, both were aware of the change the bite had brought upon
Scott. They knew that there was energy building up in the teenager but instead
of helping him by staying strong, channelling this energy to keep an unwilling
change in his best friend at bay, they were at the lacrosse field of Beacon
Hills High. Stiles was shouting at his best friend, hitting him with lacrosse
balls over in over again, forcing him to hurt in order to stay calm.
He could not channel the wolf's energy as he had done on every full moon but
the first. He was detached from Scott like his best friend was but an image,
not really there. His spark felt faint in the back of his mind, there but not
there, too weak to be of any use. Stiles was too weak to be of any use. The
feeling of powerlessness was suffocating.
Stiles could feel his spark, his magic, but without the support of his dad and
Scott and Melissa – for some unfathomable reason he was constantly hiding from
them – he couldn't tap into its potential. Their parents didn’t know about
Stiles’ true nature, nor about his association with the supernatural, so they
never encouraged or helped him. They didn't help him train or supported him to
find out what could make him powerful. Stiles wanted to reach deep, to the
source of his strength but it just wasn’t there. No, it was there, it was just
evading his grip.
The teenager tried to think of a solution. He approached his friends to get
their input on his problem. But Lydia Martin just ignored him, when he tried to
talk to her between classes. The heartbeat during which she had looked at him,
he had not even seen contempt in her eyes. She just didn't care about Stiles in
the slightest. Allison was too occupied with Scott to help Stiles and Isaac
didn't bother to give an answer when Stiles asked his opinion. Erica and Boyd
were in their own world. None of them cared about Stiles. He ultimately didn’t
matter.
He turned towards Derek, in a last, desperate attempt to receive some guidance.
Scott needed help, hell Stiles needed help, but all the young man did was
shoving him into a wall – and not in the nice way – or injure him by bashing
his head against the steering wheel, when Stiles had tricked him into his car.
Whenever Stiles looked at Derek, all he saw was anger and condescendence. He
was weak and of no use to these people, so why should they care about him?
Stiles curled up in a corner of his bedroom, cursed himself for his fragility.
He wished for nothing more than to be strong again, powerful, in control of his
magic as he had ever been and more. The next moment his wish was granted. He
was strong, nearly all-powerful. He felt ancient but instead of finally using
this gift to help his brother from another mother, all he could do with his
powers was to destroy and kill.
His heart threatened to break when he felt of the demonic minions he had
summoned killing Allison. He stood at the side, watching impassive and detached
when the manifestations of his newfound power battled his friends. He pondered
about stopping them but decided against it. It didn't even matter to him what
this battle was about, all he cared about was the knowledge that he would come
out on top. That would show them to ignore him when he came to them. He would
show them all!
His soul was weeping for Scott who held the love of his life in his arms, tears
blinding him, but his mind refused to give in. Stiles wanted to rant and rave
against these dark powers that filled his veins with magic that was more like
black tar, sticky and dirty then the lightning spark he was used to.
Ethan and Aiden approached him, tried to bring him down in defence of the pack.
They had aligned themselves with Scott because they had realized that alone
they all would fall. But it was all too easy to push them away. Tearing Aiden
apart because he knew that this would bring the most suffering to his pack,
especially to Lydia, was as easy as breaking a stick. Everybody depended on the
genius girl and with her broken by the loss of her lover, Stiles was undeniably
winning. But winning what?
The last person to approach him in this useless battle was Derek. He wanted to
reach for his partner, ground himself, have Derek pull him out of this
darkness. But there seemed no love lost between the wolf and the human. Not in
this world. Stiles was even snickering at the wolf. He simply couldn’t hold
himself back from taunting Derek until the wolf leaped towards him, anger
radiating from every pore. When Stiles’ hand broke through Derek’s ribcage it
was all too easy to rip out the werewolf's heart and watch it pulse in his hand
for one, last time.
He felt bitter-sweet triumph welling up in his body. An empty passion that
overwhelmed him and when Stiles felt a climax approaching, he was not even able
to feel disgusted with himself. He just wished he could die. All the power, all
the magic was for nothing, if he had no friends. In the end he had killed them
all, so for Stiles there was no tomorrow. But suddenly there was a voice in his
ear, familiar like a voice in a dream, far too seductive to be human.
“I won’t let you go so easy,” as if on an afterthought, the speaker added with
a sarcastic purr, “Master.”
When Stiles opened his eyes, he looked into two orbs, filled with absolute
darkness, hotter than the fires of hell and colder than the universe. “Danny?”
The seductive voice only snickered, “Not really. Your little pet-human is
cowering in the deepest corner of his mind, too afraid of his own nightmares to
fight them. You think after all this time he would have learned.”
Suddenly Stiles understood, “Molokai.”
A kiss from black lips ghosted over his mouth, stealing some of his energy
before his counterpart whispered, “Glad to have you back, Stiles. Asmodeus
sends his greetings.”
                                     ~ – ~
Trying to sit up, Stiles realized that he was bound to some kind of bunk-bed,
with a central venous catheter embedded in the back of his left hand. Raising
his eyebrows, the demon merely showed two rows of pearly white teeth in a
dreadful attempt to smile, before ripping the bindings apart. Carefully
extracting the needle from his skin, Stiles looked around, noticing that he was
in some kind cellar. The room was bare, apart from the bed and the pole a drip
was hanging from. Trying to shake his head, summoning his spark to burn the
dizziness out of his mind, his eyes were blazing bright golden, when he looked
around.
Something horrible had happened and, from what Stiles sensed, to the entire
pack. That knowledge trumped the relief of having control over his magic again.
He couldn't remember how he had come here, but he knew – beyond the shadow of
doubt – that he had to get out of here and find his family. The nightmare that
had just clouded his mind was still prominent, and if Danny had had a similar
experience, Stiles wasn't surprised that the teenager had retreated and left
Molokai in the driver's seat. That however, was not something Stiles could
allow. The incubus was far too powerful on his own. To leave him roam freely
without human supervision was not something the spark could risk.
Going over his options, Stiles’ mind did not need long to come up with a
possible solution for his most pressing problem. With the demon at full
strength and Danny so weak, not even his spark would be enough to banish
Molokai from Danny's body. Especially not after having been drugged and held
for an unknown amount of time. Yet that did not mean that his human mind
couldn't supply him with a way out of this dilemma. Smiling, Stiles relaxed
against the hard bed, looking Molokai's demonic form up and down. "Well, in
that case, I hope you have enjoyed your last minutes on earth. Send Asmodeus my
love when you return to him. It was truly a pleasure to work with one of his
minions."
Sneering, the incubus turned towards him. He had prowled the tiny cell, tail
twisting agitatedly, wings folding and unfolding in the confines of the small
room. "And what makes you think that you could send me away, little human?
Danny might allow you control, but I am not a human-being, weakened by
compassion. I'm a demon, straight from hell!"
Not allowing himself to be intimidated, Stiles looked at the nightmarish
figure. "Yes, you are. And as such you are bound to the rules of our contract,
in order to stay on earth. And one of the most vital rules was broken. You took
from me without asking permission in advance."
"What?" Whipping around, the demon seemed to fray a little on the edges, to
grow smaller before he stabilised his impressive form. That startled reaction
was all Stiles needed to confirm his impression.
Rising from his bed, though he felt by far not strong enough for an extensive
walk, Stiles crowded the dark demon against the wall, reaching for his throat.
"Did you, or did you not just kiss me. Take from me without me offering
beforehand?"
Shivering slightly the demon nodded, reluctantly.
"And did we, or did we not establish in our contract that you always, ALWAYS
have to ask permission first? That you are not allowed to take what is not
offered?"
"Yes." Came the small answer, and the demon seemed to deflate before Stiles
very eyes.
The spark had seen the incubus in its true form only once. It was pathetic and
weak. A black figure with dark skin and bat-like wings cowered before him. No
taller than Lydia, with wiry legs that barely seemed to carry it. An incubus
was bound to have a human host, and only when joined with said host was the
demon able to maintain the impressive figure Danny was showing whenever they
wanted to impress or frighten someone.
"But I was so weak," came the pitiful excuse. Only the voice remained the same,
but it too was feeble now that the demon tried to justify its behaviour.
"Danny's nightmares drained nearly all the energy from us. Even the one we
gathered on the blue moon. And you lay there and your spark was burning so
brightly. I couldn't hold back. I was starving."
Coldly, Stiles looked down at the demon. "So you are admitting that you broke
one of our rules?"
Closing its eyes, the demonic figure turned away in the cage of Stiles' arms.
"Yes."
Reaching for its head, pulling it back painfully, Stiles demanded, "Then give
it back!"
Whining miserably, the demon gave in and opened his mouth, returning the power
it had just stolen. When the transfer was complete, the demon sagged against
the wall and reached for Stiles before the boy could pull back. Whispering he
pleaded, "Please, please don't send me back. I will be your slave for eternity.
Just don't send me back to hell. Asmodeus will tear me apart before throwing me
into purgatory for another century. You have no idea what the lost souls will
do to me."
Too smart to let go of such a powerful ally and aware of how much Danny had
come to enjoy his magic, Stiles carded his fingers through the incubus’ hair,
eliciting an involuntary purr from the small figure. Now it was his turn to act
seductively, to lean down and whisper into the creature's pointy ears, "My
slave for eternity, no matter what I ask of you?"
"Yes," eagerly scrambling up, the demon tried to touch its master, "whatever
you want. No limits, no restrictions. Your every wish will be my command, I
swear. On your … on your parents’ grave. I will be yours until the day you die
and I will even protect your pack for another year after that!"
Knowing there was only one way to unquestionably assert dominance over a sex-
demon, something Stiles was only willing to do because Danny was not present,
the teenager reached for his trousers, opening them slowly, seductively,
taunting the incubus with every inch of flesh he revealed. When Stiles was
bare, before the demon's eyes, he touched himself, slowly waking his body's
desires, no matter how hard it was in the confines of this cell.
Hoarsely the incubus begged, "Let me help you, please, Master. I will be good.
Let me help you."
Reaching for the incubus’ head, Stiles turned him around and pressed him
roughly against the wall. "Never. Without. My. Permission!"
Still, no matter how little Molokai tried to act on his urges, the desire that
was waking in Stiles fanned the demon's flames and pheromones started to pour
off of him. Inhaling deeply, Stiles let the conjured passion carry him higher
and with very little preparation, he sank into the demon's willing body. No
matter how small and fragile it was, its build was always ready to accept an
act of passion. Forcing Molokai's hands to the wall over his head, Stiles sank
into him from behind, whispering into his ears. "You will never, ever take from
me – or any other member of our pack – what is not offered freely. One killing
and our deal is off. Am. I. Understood?"
"Yes, yes, Master, please!" The demon was squirming in Stiles’ grasp, urging
the teenager to go faster, harder, to take and give and claim and offer, but
the spark had other ideas for their encounter. This was not about the sex –
well it was, but only to seal their new deal – mainly this was a power
transfer. Stiles was well aware that he needed the demon's help to get out of
here. A weak incubus was of no use to him. So the spark tapped into resources
of energy he had learned to store with the help of his mother's diary and
claimed the demon's mouth, kissing it deeply.
Molokai was swelling both in size and strength as he received this power. His
body changed, accepted Stiles all the more easily, making their encounter more
pleasurable for both of them. Still, despite greedily hoarding the strength his
old/new master was offering, he remained fused to the wall, because that was
where Stiles had placed him. It didn't take Stiles very long to reach his
climax. The demon knew him far too well, able to elicit an orgasm from him with
but a few, simple movements. But it didn't matter, because with him spilling
into the demon the transfer was complete, and when they separated, Molokai
turned around, looking at Stiles before gracefully sinking to his knees.
His voice was back to the strong, seductive whisper when he gestured to the
last drops of cum that clung to the tip of Stiles' cock. "May I?"
Smiling, the teenager stepped closer, carding his fingers gently through the
silky strands that surrounded the incubus’ horns. "You may." He sighed
blissfully in the afterglow, when Molokai cleaned him with small, soft kitten-
licks before closing the teenager's trousers again, nuzzling against the hidden
cock affectionately.
The demon remained on his knees, looking up at his Master, when voicing the
question that had circled in Stiles’ head for the last few minutes, "What
should we do now?"
Looking at the sealed door that kept him in this makeshift cell, Stiles decided
that there was no use for elaborate plans, so he decided, "Now we are rescuing
our friends, by whatever means necessary."
Purring in delight at the prospect of violence, the incubus straightened and
reached for the door. It turned out to be no match for a freshly charged sex-
demon.
                                     ~ – ~
***** Ethan & Aidan *****
Ethan was hiding in the darkest corner of their cave. Aiden had told him to
stay here, so the pack wouldn't be able to torment them during this full moon.
The change hurt it always did, but what the other wolves did to them hurt even
more. The desire to go out and howl to the moon was overwhelming, but Ethan
knew that were he spotted both he and his brother would pay the price. They had
a pack, one that kept them safe from the hunters. But to stay they had to
accept the position of Omegas. Everybody used them as scratching posts when
they were angry or bored or simply wanted to see how far they could push the
twins.
A noise on the outside made Ethan perk up, and a dark shadow he knew to be his
brother, filled the entrance of their cave. But after a heartbeat Aiden was
pulled back to the lecherous calls of their pack mates. His twin-brother had
made Ethan promise that he would stay hidden. That he would remain out of sight
no matter what. In the end the promise hadn't changed anything, because Ethan
could still hear the pack torment his brother, claw at him, hit him with
whatever they could get their hands on. They called for Ethan, demanded his
immediate submission and service. The Omega tried to resist their calls. Aiden
was strong, stronger than him, but in the end even he broke and cried out in
pain. With tears in his eyes, Ethan rushed to him, trying to ease his torment,
only to suffer the same abuse.
Aiden had also been the one to introduce them to the demon wolf. Ethan had been
so very afraid when he had first felt Deucalion's blind eyes on him. But the
outlook of ascending to Alpha, of gaining power over those who had hurt him and
his brother, made him relent. The twins merged, glorious and powerful and the
triumph was heady when they sliced their former Alpha's throat, stealing his
powers. Aiden prompted him to execute their revenge and after but a little
incentive from his twin, Ethan complied and together they ripped their former
pack to pieces.
Things changed under the demon wolf. He demanded absolute submission as well,
but he was less cruel than their former pack, at least when you obeyed his
orders. Aiden kept them safe and guided them through the traps of pack-policy.
Then the demon wolf came to Beacon Hills and for a few weeks, they had the
chance to watch a pack that was family. After Deucalion's defeat by Alpha
McCall, Ethan begged his brother to join them, to ask for permission to stay
with the McCall-pack. Ethan submitted easily, but Aiden needed more to bend to
the will of their new, human Alpha. His strong brother kept up his resistance
for several days, but in the end gave in, because Ethan was begging him on his
knees. The cold in the empty yard, the snow chilling them to the bones – the
twin had a bad conscience to sentence his brother to such torments – but once
they gave in things got infinitely better.
One the most beautiful girl in existence chose Aiden as her partner and a sex-
demon took his interest in Ethan. For the first time in their lives they felt
cherished and safe. Both enjoyed this new situation more than they would ever
admit. But things changed with time. Soon the pack noticed that Aiden was the
one they benefited from and that Ethan was just useless baggage. He was
stronger, smarter, and more skilled than Ethan. Danny pulled back a little more
each day and after scarce few months, Ethan caught his brother and his partner
making love in the bed he and Danny had shared before.
He wanted to rant and to rave, but Danny only looked up from where he was
fucking Aiden from behind, eyes black and without compassion. His voice was
cold, contrary to the warm tone he usually entertained when talking to Ethan.
"Did you really think that we would not notice? That we would not learn how
much more worthy your brother is in all things? He is stronger, more resilient,
more intelligent than you? Honestly, we only keep you around because he takes
pity on you. You being an excellent source of food for my demon was the sole
reason I put up with you this long. But after tasting Aiden now, I don't want
you any longer. After all, why should I be satisfied with second best?"
When Ethan tried to come up with a response, he couldn't think of anything.
Mere mindless babble left his mouth. So Danny kissed Aiden lovingly one last
time, before pulling back. The glorious form of his incubus, the black skin,
the black eyes and the giant wings hovered over Ethan. With nothing more than a
sneer, Danny told him, "Go, little Omega. Gather your things and find a closet
where you can sleep from now on. We will tell you when we need you. Until then,
you better stay out of sight."
Tears blinding his eyes, Ethan looked at his twin brother, his glorious, strong
and larger than life brother, who had always had his back, but Aiden was only
lounging in the sheets, shrugging, "Maybe you can sleep in the spare room
beside Stiles. Then on the other hand, why should he want you near?"
Thrashing around, blindly reaching for the door, Ethan fled the room. The
condescending snickers of both his brother and the one person he had been sure
would always, always chose him over Aiden, followed him into the streets where
he kept on running.
                                     ~ – ~
Stiles and Molokai were slowly making their way through what appeared to be a
network of tunnels. The demon could sense other life-sources around him, but
the concrete and the steel threw his radar off. Crouching from corner to
corner, the two were searching for their missing pack-members. When they opened
the first door, Stiles was ready for an attack, as soon as the demon confirmed
that there was a living-being on the other side.
"What's that smell?" Molokai was sniffing the air like a wildcat, rendered
nervous by the sickening sweet smell that seemed to permit the very air of the
room.
Stiles on the other hand, had very little problems identifying it. "Wolfsbane,
and not the fun kind. It smells different from the one Chris is using, but it
seems to affect Ethan nonetheless."
Gesturing towards his pack-member, the demon approached the boy and ripped
through his bindings with considerably more effort than he had needed for
Stiles'. Ethan was bound by chains, while Stiles had been held by simple
leather cuffs. In the end, the demon had to mobilize his otherworldly
abilities, digging through the metal that was melting like hot wax under his
touch. Ethan whimpered, when the liquefied metal made contact with his skin,
but he would heal, if they got him out of this cell.
Once free, Stiles tried to pick Ethan up, but Molokai waved him aside, carrying
the boy from the room. The human carefully closed the door behind them and when
the next room they passed turned out to hide a supply closet with all kinds of
fancy drugs and basic medical materials, the three of them hid in a corner of
that room.
Ethan was whimpering and twitching constantly. The pain radiating from him was
overwhelming and not in the slightest connected to the burns that were already
healing. When after some time he finally opened his eyes, he only sobbed out
one word, before hiding in the demon's chest. "Danny."
Molokai did not look up when he started to pet the werewolf's head, pulling him
closer to his body. The frightened babbles of, "I'm so sorry," and "Please,
don't leave me for Aiden." and worst of all, a terrified whisper of, "Don't
make me leave," made Molokai growl in the back of his throat, threateningly as
if he was ready to rip someone to pieces. He folded his legs and his wings
around the teenager in his arms and comforted him tenderly. "I would never,
ever leave you. I won't throw you out. I will never make you leave. You are the
most important person in Da… in my life. I swear to you, Ethan. Everything is
alright."
When the teenager looked up, frightened, with tears running down his face, the
incubus only pulled him closer, cradling him against his dark chest. Stiles’
sly smile, paired with innocently raised eyebrows, received a grumpy rumble as
answer. "Just because he's not driving at the moment, doesn't mean that I don't
know how he feels."
"Do you?" Stiles asked quietly, as to not upset Ethan further. "Do you know
what Danny feels when it comes to his wolf?"
Kissing the sweaty strands of a boy who reluctantly pulled back from his chest,
Molokai whispered when looking into Ethan's confused eyes. "All the love in the
world for this one. And the rest of his heart is filled with adoration for you,
Stiles, and the rest of the pack."
Carefully reaching for the incubus’ face, Ethan asked in a confused whisper,
"Danny?"
Covering the wolf's hand with his own, black one, placing a tender kiss on it,
the demon shook his head. "Not at the moment. Someone scared your human into
hiding, little wolf. Something very sinister is going on here, and I would
really appreciate it, were my pack not suffering from it."
"Your pack?" Stiles grinned.
Growling a little, Danny brushed a strand of sticky hair from Ethan's forehead,
comforting the wolf further. "Yes, 'my pack'. Just because I'm a demon doesn't
mean that I don't recognize all of you as family for my host!"
"Is Danny alright?" Ethan's voice was still small, but gaining strength with
every breath he took that was free of poison. He understood now that whatever
images had plagued him had been nothing but a nightmare. It was hard to dispel
them, but if someone was endangering their pack, he had to stay alert and help
his Alpha.
Rising to his feet, helping the wolf up as well, Molokai nodded. "Danny is
scared, as much as you. He's hiding in a corner of his mind and let me take the
lead. He will be better eventually. I doubt that he will leave you alone for
very long. I promise."
The demon met the human's eyes over the body of Danny's lover. Stiles eyes
mirrored a conviction of 'liar' because neither of them knew if Danny would
ever rise to the surface again. The mind was a fragile thing and just because
one carried a demon did not automatically make one immune against terror.
Still, Stiles was glad that Molokai was playing for his team again. He didn't
hold the brief rebellion against him. Every creature of darkness was bound to
try tricking their masters into believing them stronger, more independent, than
they really were. Had the spark not researched binding rituals excessively
before dealing with Danny's demon, he might even have believed Molokai to be as
unconstrained as the demon had tried to make him belief. But in reality,
Molokai was only as strong as Stiles allowed him to be, and with the threat of
being thrown back to hell, he did his best to fit into their family again, as
he had done for the last few years.
                                     ~ – ~
Aiden and Lydia were laughing and trading ice-cream when hers melted too fast
to keep up and his was gone before he could enjoy it. Lydia always liked these
frozen yoghurt with the sprinkles on top. Aiden was more of a vanilla and
chocolate kind of guy, but he didn't mind sharing. It was not as if he had a
lot to offer to a girl whose IQ was off the charts. Well, not off the charts,
the measurement of IQ was comparing the intelligence of a person to a national
baseline. But still, in his mind Lydia was clearly the smartest person he knew.
A part of him still wondered what she saw in him. But all of that didn't matter
today. Today they could enjoy one of their rare moments in the sun with nothing
but skinny clothes, melting ice-cream and nothing to do.
His wolf perked up when he heard a suspicious noise nearby. Lydia tapping the
tip of his nose with her cone made him turn back to her. Grinning he took it,
offered his in return. There it was again? Like someone was approaching, but
Aiden couldn't determine the source of the disturbance. Couldn't hear what was
going on. The only thing he was sure of was that something was going on.
Hesitantly he stood up and offered his hand. "Come on, Lyds, we better go."
Rolling her eyes, but clearly willing to indulge him, Lydia took the offered
hand and allowed Aiden to pull her to her feet. Obviously she didn't think
herself in any kind of danger. That conviction proved an illusion when out of
the blue a small-scale gangster wrapped around her from behind, pressing a
dirty nuzzle to her neck.
How the guy had approached them so fast, Aiden didn't know, but he did not have
the mind to question his lack of attention at the moment. His blood ran cold
when he saw the fear and resignation in Lydia's eyes. Clearly she didn't think
him skilled enough to deal with this danger. Angrily she lifted her shoe and
dug the heel onto the sensitive foot of the jerk. As soon as he let her go,
Aiden was upon him, wrestling him down, growling under his breath. His eyes
were burning blue, he was well aware of that, but since the guy was on his
belly, he wouldn't notice.
A shot erupted in the formerly tranquil summer afternoon and Lydia grasped her
shoulder with a pained sound. Aiden could smell the blood before it was
blooming on her shirt. Still she flexed her fingers and rearranged her scarf to
hide the stain. Within moments Jordan Parrish was beside him, picking up the
jerk who had shot Lydia, bringing him away to the precinct.
Lydia was silent on their ride home and the guilt was eating at Aiden whenever
he looked at her. He noticed a faint trail of blood running down her arm. Once
inside the house, Stiles was immediately hovering over Lydia, exposing her
shoulder that was only grazed yet still bleeding. Angrily, the human Alpha
pulled Lydia against his chest, and – as Aiden had expected – the girl allowed
the protective gesture. The commotion had summoned Scott. The Alpha looked
first at Stiles and Lydia and then at Aiden. "What happened?"
Stiles' voice was nearly feral when he growled, "Aiden allowed Lydia to get
shot!"
"What?"
Aiden cringed under the disappointed gazes of both Alphas. When he looked up
again, he found Stiles comforting Lydia, kissing her lovingly before looking at
Aiden again. His eyes were cold and detached when he shook his head. "You know,
we tried Aiden, we tried really hard with you."
Scott picked up the cue and continued, "First you resist Stiles, forcing him to
trap you in a circle of mountain ash."
"Then you court the one woman my heart has always belonged to."
"And then you can't even keep her safe." Scott shook his head tiredly.
"Honestly, Aiden. Of what use are you?"
The wolf started shaking, claws digging into the palms of his hands, unable to
look up.
"He's good in bed." Lydia piped up and honestly, was there a cruder and more
unimportant skill she could draw his Alphas attentions to? "But not good enough
to keep him."
Shaking his head, Stiles looked at the girl in his arms who mirrored his gaze.
The human told Aiden, "Let's put our cards on the table, Aiden. We have been
lenient enough with you. Ethan and you came as a package deal, and Danny loves
your brother with all his heart, that's the only reason we allowed you to stay
for so long. But now … really … We were hoping that you would achieve
something! That you would learn or at least be fast enough to keep the human
members of our family safe. Clearly, you can't even manage that."
Aiden's eyes clouded with unshed tears when he looked at his two Alphas and the
girl that had come to mean the world to him. He couldn't belief that they were
writing him off so easily. But the truth was, he had always suspected that
much. Of course he was not as smart or as compassionate as his delicate, little
brother Ethan. Ethan clearly was the better catch, but having it spelled out so
coldly tore into Aiden's heart.
"Really, Aiden. We tried, but it would be easier for the entire pack if you
just left." Stiles finally spelled out for him, gesturing towards a door Scott
was already holding open. Aiden would not, could not say anything else, could
barely move through the pain that seemed to fill his entire body and only when
the door clicked shut behind him, did he allow his tears to fall freely, while
running towards the woods.
                                     ~ – ~
Stiles, Molokai and Ethan were not even surprised to find Aiden's room closest
to Ethan's on the other side of the hall. As soon as the demon opened the door,
Ethan swayed on his feet, needing Stiles to stabilize him. Once again, the
demon entered and carried an unconscious, shivering werewolf out of a sickening
smelling room. They returned to their supply closet and instantly Ethan pulled
his brother into his arms, whispering words of comfort. Tears were falling from
his eyes, when he smelled Aiden's terror.
Helplessly he looked up at Stiles. "What should we do?"
Crouching down beside the twins, the human caressed the distressed wolf's neck.
"We have to wait for the wolfsbane to leave his system. I'm sorry, Ethan. There
really isn't anything we CAN do at the moment but wait."
"Can't you do anything?" Ethan looked up at the black-skinned demon. He wanted
to call out to him, to seek comfort, yet every sense but his eyes told him that
the person guarding the door was not his boyfriend. The incubus was careful
with him, had held him close and comforted him when he had woken, but this
creature was not Danny and somehow his wolf was reluctant to have it anywhere
near his brother.
Shaking his head, the demon admitted, "I could maybe substitute his nightmare
with a nicer dream, but that would make him reluctant to wake up after the
numerous terrors he had suffered."
"But he would …"
Ethan interrupted himself when Aiden reached for him all of a sudden.
Desperate, the taller twin choked out his brother's name, drawing their bodies
close together. Instantly Ethan pulled him closer, surrounding Aiden with his
arms and his legs, cocooning him in the length of his limps. Stiles mirrored
him on the other side, caressing Aiden's back while his brother comfortingly
touched his face.
Aiden was torn between hiding from Stiles and clinging to his brother. Hoarsely
he whispered, desperation lacing every word when he addressed his Alpha.
"Please, please don't send me away. I will be good. I will be useful I swear.
Ethan and I … I can protect Lydia, I promise. I … please …" The last word was
nothing but a broken breath that ghosted over Stiles face and instantly the
Alpha pulled the twin closer from behind.
Rubbing his face over Aiden's neck, scenting the teenager, Stiles assured him,
"Nobody is sending you away, Aiden. You have to come back to us, wake up
completely. It was a dream, nothing but a wolfsbane-induced nightmare. It's
alright. Everything is alright."
Another lie. But one that seemed to get through to the wolf. Ethan opened his
arms a little when Aiden turned around and looked at his human Alpha with
tearstained eyes. "You still care for me?"
"Oh, Aiden," Stiles choked, hugging him tightly, wrapping one arm around Ethan
by proxy. "You stupid, stupid wolves. I could never send either of you away.
Scott and I, we love you and we want you in our pack. I know that we don't
always see eye to eye, but no matter the conflict, we get over it."
When both wolves whined in distress, Stiles clasped their necks. "Listen to
me," Stiles demanded. "Listen to my heartbeat."
When the twins looked at him with eyes that had seen far too much, Stiles
touched their foreheads and breathed against their faces. "I love you. Both of
you. You are family like every other member of my pack and nobody, neither me
nor Danny, nor Lydia, nor Scott will ever want you to leave. You belong to us
and we never want to see you go."
With a pleading look over his shoulder, the huddled together trio was joined by
the incubus. No matter how strange it felt, the demon was a part of their
family as well. Wrapped together they drew strength from each other until Aiden
felt stable enough to rise to his feet.
Brushing the tears from his eyes, the taller twin asked, "Alright, what do we
do next?"
                                     ~ – ~
***** Erica & Boyd *****
Erica was so very proud of her girls and boys! The club was running smoothly
and there had been no bigger incidents with clients for the last six months.
Her boyfriend's ruthless demeanour, when dealing with those who hurt their
charges, was well known by now so nobody tried anything any longer.
Yet somehow for the last few weeks, Erica had felt more and more tired and an
inexplicable anxiety had started to build. Every morning, it became harder for
her to put on the flawless mask that impressed both patrons and employees. Her
hair refused to shine, no matter how much product she used. More than once
Lydia had stopped her in the hallway, pointing out an imperfection for her to
take care off before going to work.
Erica was aware that she was not much of a looker. Only with make-up was she
able to shine. Stiles had given her an eye now and then, but for now he hadn't
said anything. Still, she had a reputation to uphold and looking like a drag
simply wouldn't do.
Several weeks had passed and by now Erica was hiding most of the time when she
was at home. She remembered all too well how much of a mouse she had been
before the bite. Somehow the magic that made her wolf seemed to reverse itself.
She got weaker and weaker and more than once, Boyd had to pull her away from a
conflict with a client or one of her employees, because Erica had been swaying.
She couldn't afford to appear weak. It all ended in an epileptic seizure in the
middle of the dance floor, when Stiles was around to visit his club.
                                     ~ – ~
The next day, Stiles sat her down, and no matter how steadfast Boyd's hand on
her back was, she felt unease at the look her Don gave her. Stiles had always
been a kind person. She had crushed on him during high school because whenever
people had taunted her, or she had had a seizure in public, he had been there
to help, either to defend her, or to carry her to the nurse station to get her
medication. Now Stiles seemed worried and regretful.
Shaking his head, the Don of the Stilinski family informed her. "I am really
sorry Erica, but things can't continue the way they do. I have a reputation to
uphold and with you as head of my hookers that's not possible. Lucky for you
Boyd insisted that I find another employment for you.  Despite you not being
able to continue your current line of work. We agreed that, if you can't be
seen in the clubs, you will walk the streets with the others."
Blanching, trying to supress the trembles that wanted to shake her apart, Erica
whipped around to look at her partner. Boyd however, was as stoic as ever. "You
have to understand, Erica. You are bad for our reputation. I am sure we will
find a man or woman who is interested in you. Even with you looking like that.
They might have a few kinks, but since you worked this business for so long, I
am sure you come prepared."
"You want," Erica felt the seizure, but pushed it down in a herculean effort.
"You want to whore me out?"
Being uncharacteristically ignorant to her emotional state, Boyd only shrugged
and explained, "Well, if you want to remain a member of this family … It's the
easiest solution for everybody involved."
Shaking, Erica tried to pull back. Stiles attempted to comfort her, but feeling
unbelievably betrayed by the only men in her life she had had absolute faith
in, she could not tolerate their touch. She pulled back from their hands and
from the table. Vibrating all over she shook her head stubbornly. "You can't …
you can't mean that. Me, working as a hooker? You …"
Yet before she could explain herself, the epileptic attack she had fought so
valiantly before overwhelmed her and she lost her footing, seizing. The last
things she saw were Stiles and Boyd standing over her before sharing an
indifferent shrug, leaving her behind to discuss business.
                                     ~ – ~
"Are you scared?" Stiles voice was calm and matter-of-fact.
Ethan and Aiden shared a glance before nodding reluctantly.
Turning towards the demon, who made a non-committal gesture, the teenager
turned back to his wolves. "Is it because of your nightmares or are we
approaching another cell?"
That question made the brothers stop. Until now they had assumed that any
lingering fear was originated in the nightmares they had suffered. But it made
sense that the wolfsbane being spread in the cells would leak into the corridor
as well. For now they had not found a fool-proof system to determine which room
to open and which one to leave. But if they could smell the wolfsbane …
Looking at each other, they shed their shirts, twisting into each other,
merging into the truly frightening beast Stiles and Scott had fought two years
ago. Their senses were sharper that way, their strength exponentially
increased, and they were comforted by each other. If you wanted someone by your
side in a case of crisis, Ethan-Aiden and Molokai were the perfect companions.
The only drawback with the merged wolf was the very basic speech pattern he
seemed to prefer. The twins communicated mostly by growling and throwing
threats at people. Today, clearly in a delicate situation but surrounded by
allies, they resorted to grumbling angrily and pointing at the door where they
thought the next victim of this ominous attack to be.
Stiles had thought about who might have kidnapped them before. But the details
of how he had gotten here were still too fuzzy. For now they only had two
directives: to find their missing pack-members and to not die. Not necessarily
in that order.
When they opened the next door, the huge wolf stood his ground, despite the on
onslaught of wolfsbane that waved towards them. Inside, Erica was trembling,
nearly seizing on her make-shift bed. Instantly the twins were upon her,
pulling away her restraints as if they were nothing, carrying the frightened
werewolf out of the room.
The next room where they recuperated was a broom closet, but at the moment,
nobody cared. The twins pawed at their distressed pack member frantically,
trying to ease her fears. But Stiles had seen this before. No matter if Erica
was a wolf now, her body was clearly convinced that she had an epileptic
attack. That Stiles knew how to deal with.
The human tenderly placed a hand on Erica's shoulder. Quietly, Stiles prompted,
"You have to give her to me. I know how to help her."
Clearly reluctant, but unwilling to contradict their Alpha, Ethan-Aiden let go
of Erica. As soon as Stiles had her in his arms, he gentled his grip, sinking
to the floor. His voice was unbearably gentle when he whispered at Erica. "It's
alright, Erica. You don't have to be afraid.  You are not alone." Kneeling on
the floor, brushing away the mops and buckets and other cleaning supplies,
Stiles lowered the seizing woman and arranged her in a lateral position.
She still shook and Aiden-Ethan whined in distress. But Stiles reached for the
combined werewolves' claws and placed them on Erica's head. "You have to be
gentle with her. Talk quietly. She was epileptic before Peter bit her, and now
the wolfsbane convinced her that she is having an attack. It will pass, but we
have to help her through."
"Hold her!" The twin-wolf rumbled, but Stiles shook his head.
"No, no constrictions. It will pass faster if she can move unrestricted. We
just have to make sure that she doesn't hurt herself. No matter how fast she is
healing."
"Erica." The soft growl was paired with gentle patting and while Molokai was
standing guard, both Ethan-Aiden and Stiles were able to help Erica through her
attack.
A distressed whine tore from Erica's throat when the girl finally opened her
eyes. Her eyes were filled with tears when she looked at Stiles. Though the
spark didn't know who had captured his wolves, the uncertain and frightened
look in Erica's eyes made him want to tear the person responsible apart.
Tenderly he brushed sweaty strands out of her face and whispered, "It's over,
Catwoman. It was nothing but a bad dream."
With a heart breaking sob Erica reached for Stiles and clutched onto him. "I
thought … I was … my wolf."
Caressing her hair, Stiles whispered, "Your wolf is scared because they drugged
you with wolfsbane. No matter what you dreamed of, it's not real."
Lifting her hands to her face, Erica hiccupped, summoning her claws. It was
hard, harder with the wolfsbane still in her system, but she managed the
partial shift. As soon as the vicious claws emerged, a cry broke from her and
she crawled into Stiles arms, now shaking from relief. Aiden-Ethan crouched
closer as well and the female werewolf took comfort in their presence.
After a few minutes, she resolutely brushed the tears from her eyes and rose to
unsteady feet. Looking around, she decided, "We have to find Boyd."
Smiling at her, Stiles nodded and reached for the door. "We will. Don’t worry,
Erica. We will find all of them."
                                     ~ – ~
"If you can't be of use, you can't stay!"
Stiles voice was cold and resolute, when he looked up at the black teenager.
"But I …," Boyd didn't know how it had come to this. He had been good at what
he did. He had kept Erica's girls and boys safe. Had beat up every client who
had dared to lay a finger on their charges. But out of the blue, Stiles had
decided that the position of the guardian was no longer needed. They had fought
about it for hours, at least Boyd thought so. He had tried to defend himself
and though he usually was a friend of monosyllabic conversations, his inability
to properly voice his concerns frustrated him at the moment.
"Honestly Boyd. Erica has them under control. And if you can't contribute to
this family, you can no longer be part of it."
Inwardly, Boyd was shaking. This was the worst thing imaginable for him. He had
asked for the bite because he had seen how Scott and Stiles acted around each
other. How they had taken Isaac and Erica under their wings. And he had wanted
that. Had wanted that so very, very much because his own family had been
neglecting at best, abusive at the worst of times. And now Stiles didn't want
him anymore?
Helplessly, he looked at his werewolf Alpha, but Scott only stood in the
doorway of Stiles' office. Scott not commenting on the demands proved that the
two Alphas were in agreement on this.
Uncharacteristically hoarsely, Boyd asked, "And what would you have me do?"
"Well," Stiles started, "Since you know the business on the streets better than
anybody, I suggest you make yourself useful there. I have had several requests
for you over the last year. So we will make appointments and you can work the
clients one after the other. You will still have time to spend with Erica since
your working hours will overlap. Otherwise you will be on your own."
"And if … if I don't agree?"
"Then you are free to go." Scott informed him, with no compassion whatsoever.
He couldn't go and everybody knew that. It would be difficult to leave the
family if he were human - for a werewolf it was close to impossible. He could
search for another pack. But Deucalion was an egoistic bastard and though Talia
had made peace with the Stilinski-McCall pack, Boyd was sure that his Alphas
wouldn't make changing packs that easy for him. And honestly, he didn't want to
change pack! He loved Erica and these people were family, the only family he
had ever felt at home with.
Aware of Boyd's inner conflict, Stiles reached for the teenager's hand. "I know
this isn't easy for you. Actually we want you to stay. So we have to find a way
for you to make yourself useful."
This was worse. The worst approach possible because Stiles acted like he cared,
something his family had never bothered to do. It had been easier to stay
emotionally detached from them but the Don of the Stilinski family didn't even
allow him that luxury.
Forcefully swallowing down the tears, Boyd nodded his agreement before leaving
the room.
                                     ~ – ~
It was hard, nearly impossible for him to supress his wolf at the beginning. He
didn’t like these strangers pawing at him and when they finally entered the
bedroom, Boyd was ready to retch in disgust. But this was the only way Stiles
and Scott would allow him to remain in the pack, stay part of their family.
Worst of all, these men were good, really good at what they were doing. They
took their pleasure from him, but made sure that he 'enjoyed' himself as well.
Afterwards they applauded him and themselves about their ability to satisfy a
partner. He never said anything, just forced a smile on his face, took the
money and left. Once back at the house he took a scolding shower, rubbing away
the stench of these people until his skin was raw, sometimes even bleeding.
Erica tried to help. She really did. She pulled him into her arms, but he knew
that he wasn't worthy of her affection any longer. He was a whore. The worst
kind of, because he didn't do it out of conviction but because of his fear of
being alone again. No matter how often she assured him that she loved him, no
matter what he did to earn his money. He wasn't even able to sleep with her any
longer. Too strong were his feelings of impotence and in the end he didn't want
to taint her. The more he kept his distance, the less likely it was for Stiles
to throw Erica into the same pot as him and demand the same from the woman he
loved, as he did of Boyd.
In the end all Boyd could do was dress up, go out, satisfy his clients and
return home, hide in his bedroom, the gym or their home-cinema, depending on
what place was empty at the time. He could barely eat any longer, forced
himself because he knew that he had to keep up his strength and looks because
it was his only thing of worth to the pack anymore. He couldn't find
satisfaction in a 'normal' sexual encounter with his girlfriend, his body
twisting to satisfy the forced needs. More than once Boyd had stared at the
blade he used for shaving. Had he always used a cutthroat knife for that task?
He started to trace his veins with the tip of the blade. The pain meant
nothing, was gone after a moment, but the red blood running from his veins was
strangely soothing. More and more often did he use the tool to be able to feel
at least something for the briefest amount of time. In the end he dug it deep
into his arm, tore open veins and arteries until he was too weak to even keep
his eyes open any longer. Numb, he sank to the floor of the bathroom.
                                     ~ – ~
Erica's vicious growl woke him from a slumber he had hoped to last for
eternity. With Erica the twins had torn through the bindings that had held her.
But smelling Boyd's desperation, there had been no stopping the female wolf.
Holding her breath, Erica picked up her taller partner and carried him out of
his place of torment.
Until now they had been lucky. Nobody had spotted any cameras and with the
corridor being quite empty they retreated to a corner, huddled up around Boyd
to wait for the wolfsbane to leave his system.
Stiles was worried about the teenager. All the others had whined and reeked of
anxiety. But Boyd was different. His face was bare of any expression and there
was no fear emanating from him, only resignation.
When he finally woke up, he looked both at Stiles and Erica before fighting to
his feet, turning away from them. When Erica tried to reach for him to comfort
him, he stiffly pulled away and Stiles could see the pain of the rejection
tearing through the she-wolf. Boyd didn't even know where they were, but simply
shuffled along the corridor into a random direction.
Sharing a confused look with the rest of his wolves, Stiles gestured for them
to continue their search for missing pack members and called Boyd back. As
expected the werewolf turned and approached him but wouldn't meet his eyes.
Tiredness was etched into the wolf's features and it tugged at Stiles' heart.
After a few moments of hesitation, where he pondered if he should ask Boyd
about what he had dreamed, he decided against it.
Clearly it had shaken the usually so stoic werewolf to the core and they did
not have time for an elaborate therapy session. So the Alpha cupped Boyd's face
tenderly and forced the wolf to look at him, no matter how much it hurt to look
into the empty eyes. He reached for Boyd's hand and after an initial hesitancy,
the wolf allowed Stiles to place it over his heart.
"You know how I am able to lie." Stiles started. "You know how my heartbeat is
a little faster then, but not irregular."
"Yes, Stiles."
"Tell me, Boyd. Is my heartbeat fast or slow?"
"It's slow."
"So you will know if I lie to you now. Won't you?"
Uncertain where this was going, the wolf nodded, before meeting his Alpha's
eyes. The boy didn't weaver when saying, "Whatever happened, Boyd, it was a
dream, a wolfsbane-induced nightmare, fuelled by your deepest fears. Nothing of
it was true. I don't know what you have been though and we don't have the time
to talk about it right now, but we will. Once we get out of here, or the day
after, or next week or next month, we will make time for it. But right this
moment we have to find our missing pack, who are trapped in their own fears."
After a moment, where Boyd wavered slightly before him, Stiles asked quietly,
"Do you believe me?"
Somehow it was harder with the usually so self-assured werewolf as it had been
with any other member of the pack. Yet Stiles didn't hesitate to pull him into
his arms when Boyd nodded slighting and tears started to gather in his eyes.
Holding on to his wolf with all his strength, Stiles rubbed his neck, his back,
allowing Boyd to scent him and rubbed his face into the crook of the werewolf's
neck in return. Once again the human Alpha assured him. "It was just a bad
dream. Not real."
The longer they stood together, the stronger Boyd began to shake until his sobs
became so pronounced that they called back the rest of the pack. Erica
plastered herself against her boyfriend's back and Ethan-Aiden wrapped around
them as well. It took Boyd quite some time to calm down again and even when the
tears had dried he reached for Erica to ground himself in the contact.
Smiling, his girlfriend caressed his face and kissed him lovingly, before they
walked down the corridor. They had a lot more family to free and with every
step they took, they swore that they would rip those to pieces who were
responsible for this torture.
                                     ~ – ~
***** Lydia & Peter *****
A bullet tore through the air and Lydia was screaming. They were in an
abandoned building and Danny was tumbling to the floor right in front of her.
Through the huge hole in his chest, Lydia could see his heart pumping one last
time before it stopped. She should turn around and run. Yet she was frozen in
place by the horror of a pack-mate's death she had been unable to prevent.
                                     ~ – ~
She shot up from her work, not even bothering to power down her workstation.
She had to reach Erica and Boyd and fast because something terrible was about
to happen. But her car couldn't go fast enough, no matter how much pressure she
applied to the gas. A few dozen meters from the club, a huge explosion tore
through the quiet of the night. Chunks of debris flew through the air, hitting
Lydia's car, demolishing it beyond salvation. When the redhead abandoned it and
staggered towards the destroyed building, she found Erica and Boyd, holding
hand's in the epicentre of the explosion. They lay there, side by side, and
though no visible wounds could be seen, Lydia knew them to be dead without the
shadow of doubt.
                                     ~ – ~
In the smoke that rose from the lingering fires of the explosion she could see
Allison's face. And though she started to run, desperately reaching for her
phone to call first the huntress, than Isaac and Scott, none of the three
picked up. Lydia didn’t know where to turn. She activated her communication
device but nobody answered. She reached Chris Argent's house, feet bleeding
already, because her heels were not meant for running, but the hunter only told
her that his daughter had left not five minutes ago to meet with Isaac and
Stiles.  They were supposed to guard the Don of the family during a deal.
When returning home, Stiles sat broken in a chair in the living room, telling
her that Allison and Isaac had not survived the shootout with a rivalling clan.
They were careful, always so careful, but against wolfsbane bullets and
explosives they were powerless.
                                     ~ – ~
Waking up from another nightmare, Lydia ran to Scott who lay huddled around
Liam in the boy's bedroom. The loss of his lovers seemed to have broken the
Alpha. No matter how much Liam tried to comfort him, he couldn't console the
older wolf. Lydia tried to talk to him, tried to reach him, to warn him of an
unsubstantial danger she had foreseen for the true Alpha. But Scott was beyond
caring. All he did was look into Lydia's eyes with a blank expression and then
turn towards the wall. Helpless, Liam assured Lydia that he would do his best
to keep his Alpha safe.
In the end, she was of no use to the both of them, because a car accident
killed them the same day. A beam beheaded them, they had not even had time to
feel fear or pain.
                                     ~ – ~
Aiden and Ethan tried to outrun the curse that obviously had befallen the
Stilinski-McCall pack, though it was only them, Stiles, Derek, Lydia and Peter
left. Melissa had tried to comfort them, to sooth them and though Lydia warned
them against using cars or other means of fuelled transportation, Scott's
mother couldn't bear to lose another one of her children. She wanted to get
them on a train and though Lydia had seen darkness closing in on the twins,
they were convinced that they could flee from it. In the end a landslide,
burying the entire train, killed them.
                                     ~ – ~
Lydia was inconsolable, hidden in her room, drunk on beer and wine and every
liquor she could get her hands upon. She was aware that visions tried to push
through her alcohol-induced haze, but she was beyond caring. Melissa paid the
price for it. A rogue junky with a weapon took out her and half of the ER unit
the same night.
                                     ~ – ~
Peter refused to leave her side after that, even when Stiles had to deal with
family business. It helped, it definitely did because the competitor who had
lain in hiding to kidnap Lydia, was torn into pieces before he could even touch
the girl. But that had been the wrong thing to do. Chris apologized verbosely,
but the code he had to uphold as a hunter, had no room for compromise. Peter
had killed a human without provocation, so he had to be put down. No matter how
much Lydia argued, no matter how much she pleaded, her wolf was shot right
before her eyes.
                                     ~ – ~
Stiles, Derek and she remained. She didn't even heave the heart to do her job
any longer. And had Stiles always tried to comfort her in times of crisis, he
became withdrawn and reluctant to even be in the same room as her. Derek always
hovered by his side, but not even the wolf was able to lift Stiles spirits any
longer. Stiles saw the trap he was walking into. But he had been too despairing
to fight it any longer. He didn't care for his affairs, neither the Red Hood
trading company nor the Stilinski family business. Though Derek and Lydia tried
their best to uphold the reputation and keep up with the overwhelming amount of
work, they were helpless against the downfall of the empire Stiles parents had
spent their lives to build.
Lydia felt more dead than alive by now. She constantly saw threats for her
family but could no longer distinguish between hallucinations and visions. More
than once did she have to redo the work of an entire day because she had made a
beginner's mistake right after clocking in. The usually so genius girl was
jittery and nervous, too wrapped up in her own head to deal with the outside
world properly any longer. When they entered business negotiations with another
supplier, Lydia could see the bullet that tore into Derek and the second one
that hit Stiles square in the chest. But she couldn't stop either.
Crying with the dying boy in her arms, hear heart broke when Stiles whispered,
"You know, I thought that having a banshee in the family would keep us from
harm. But in the end you have been my greatest disappointment."
                                     ~ – ~
Ethan tumbled to the floor because Aiden tore out of him with a roar. Molokai
and Boyd did their best to hold the werewolf back, while Stiles and Erica were
helping his twin. Frantically Aiden tugged on the dark hands that held him, at
least until Stiles stepped in front of him and slapped him, to pull him out of
his frenzy.
Blinking at the Alpha owlishly, Aiden shook his head to come back to himself,
turning towards the next door down the corridor. "Lydia is in there."
"Lydia is drugged Aiden. We have to be careful getting her out." Stiles told
him, because he assumed that the human members of the pack were subdued the
same way he had been. Now he could understand why Danny had been the first to
free himself. With his demonic constitution, the drugs would have been easy to
shrug off.
They allowed Aiden to pull the door of its hinges, but Stiles was the one to
gently pull the catheter from Lydia's arm, before opening her bindings.
Carefully Aiden lifted his girlfriend from the small bed, crouching down in a
corner of the room to comfort her.
The others hovered uncertainly, but Stiles calmed them by sharing that he too
had needed some time to battle the drug in his system, and he had been able to
summon his spark to do so. Lydia was all human, when it came to that, so she
would presumably need more time.
Huddling around the broken door, ready to defend their hiding place should
anybody try to approach them, they kept their eyes on Lydia and their ears on
the corridor. Hovering between them, Stiles could see the lingering emotions
that still bothered his freed pack-members. Ethan was still gravitating towards
Aiden and Stiles, as if afraid to leave either of them out of his line of
sight. Erica clung to Boyd as much as the boy did in return. But while the girl
was comforted by the contact, Boyd seemed stiff and nearly hesitant to be close
to his partner, no matter how much he needed it. Molokai hovered by the door,
determined to intercept any danger that might harm the pack. He still looked at
Stiles more often than not.
Aiden was cradling Lydia in his arms, caressing her hair, inhaling her drug-
deluded scent. Lydia came awake with a terrified scream that had every last
person covering their ears. But it was the cry of an anguished girl and not the
shout of a banshee. So Stiles approached her slowly, tenderly caressing her
cheeks when her eyes flew from one to the other. Reaching for the human, not
even aware that her nails were digging painfully into his skin, Lydia demanded,
"The others?"
Only with Aiden's help was Stiles able to ease her. "For all we know: trapped,
scared out of their minds but very, very much alive!"
Inhaling deeply, Lydia allowed herself a moment of reprieve before staggering
to her feet. Holding on to Aiden who kept her upright, she decided, "We have to
find them, I have a very bad feeling about this."
"Bad feeling as in your other side …," Stiles asked.
When the strawberry blonde nodded, the head of the Stilinski family took a deep
breath. Only Molokai's hands on his shoulders stabilized him and brought him
back to the present. Until now the Don had been able to convince himself that
this was a quite elaborated, but not lethal plan to get them out of business or
to steal their funding or whatever competitors deemed important. But with a
banshee's vision this could easily end with death for at least one member of
his pack and that was something the teenager couldn’t allow.
Forcefully shoving down all the 'worst case' scenarios his brilliant mind so
easily came up with, Stiles flinched slightly when Lydia reached for his hand.
Aiden was the next to touch him, then Erica and Boyd and with Molokai still at
his back, Ethan was the last to complete the bundle of people. Stiles closed
his eyes and allowed himself to calm. Nothing was lost now and he wouldn't
allow despair to rule him until he saw them losing with his very own eyes. When
he found the courage to look up again, he saw iron determination in his
family’s gazes. They would not allow whoever was out there to defeat them. With
a grateful nod, they turned towards the door, to continue their search for the
missing members of their pack.
                                     ~ – ~
Cold dread filled Peter when Lydia turned her back on him. He looked at Aiden,
hoping to get some kind of support from the wolf who had accepted him so very
easily in their relationship. But the twin just put a hand on his shoulder and
shook his head. His voice was compassionate but resigned when he said, "I'm
sorry, Peter, but it has always been her decision, right from the start. If she
doesn't want you any longer, I won't contradict her. She's all I have."
'She's all I have as well,' Peter wanted to shout, but couldn't bring himself
to beg. He still had his honour, his pride, but it felt like his heart was
breaking anew. It was not as bad as after the fire, where he had lost the love
of his life. But a part of him seemed to wither and die at this rejection.
When he slowly walked down the stairs, Scott and Stiles were looking at him
with a similar look in their faces as Aiden had had. They too felt sorry for
him, and didn't that make him bare his teeth at them. He didn't want their
pity. He was better than this. Huffing he reached for his already packed
clothes and turned towards the door. And while a small part of him waited for
them to hold him back, waited for this family to care for a pack-member in
need, he was not surprised that neither of his new Alpha's did.
His heart clenched painfully, when Stiles told him quietly. "We tried, Peter.
We really did because the wolves you bit wanted you here. But the way things
are … you are simply not suitable for our family. You are too headstrong, too
stubborn. I think it would be best if you returned to Talia."
This was the final straw for him, and with an angry snarl he slammed the door
shut, forcefully pushing down the anguish that threatened to drown him. When he
reached Talia's door, his sister hesitated, but knew that she could not keep
him out. Not really, since he was family.
But things didn't return to the way they had been. Peter returned working as an
enforcer, beat up whoever Talia pointed him towards. But with every passing
week he got sloppier, more unhinged. His sister shouted at him when he came
home, beaten up and bloody. There was no warmth in her tone, no honest worry.
All she did was berate him for a job poorly done.
Peter would return to his room after such days and curl up in the bed he had
shared with Lydia and Aiden during one full moon. He liked to imagine that
their smell was still lingering, despite knowing that there was no chance for
it, since the sheets had been washed several times since then. Still, the
memories of them were the only things that kept him upright. He had pondered if
he should return to them, ask for a second, or by now maybe a third chance. But
his pride wouldn't let him.
When he came home after a particularly vicious fight with a rival who had tried
to barge into his sister's territory he thought about going to Deaton for the
first time since leaving his pack. Usually, he would let his sister decide if
his injuries justified a visit from the pack's emissary. Yet when she just
shouted the house down because he had killed one of his opponents, he decided
that he had had enough.
He didn't even bother packing, no matter the pain the change brought, he
shifted into his wolf form and fled his old/new home. For days he blindly ran
through the woods, passed his sister’s domain, Stiles', Deucalion's. He lost
all sense of self, revelled in his most basic instincts. He healed and hunted.
He fought for a place to sleep and defended himself when other wolves tried to
chase him out of their territory. In the end he always gave in and left. What
should he fight for when hunting grounds that could be found elsewhere as well?
After an unknown amount of time, he came across a little town. He forced
himself to shift back to human, to steal some clothes and some food and maybe
talk to a human for the first time in God knew how long. But he couldn't find
the words. When he took some food from an open counter where it was presented
in good faith, he didn't even manage to eat like a human. Instead he tore into
the biscuits, crumbling them in his clumsy hands while trying to shove them
into his mouth. He wanted to talk to someone, to hear a friendly voice. Picking
up a mobile that lay on a table unsupervised, because its owner had decided to
use the bathroom, he couldn't even make his fingers work properly.
He wanted to call Talia, no Stiles, no … starring blindly at the stubborn
screen that refused to cooperate, he started to shake when he realized whose
voice he craved hearing. But before he could try to summon her number from the
depth of his mind, the owner of the mobile returned and started shouting at him
for stealing the device. Frightened by the shouts and aggression surrounding
him, Peter roared at the people who looked at him and leaped into the change.
As soon as the shift was complete he scrambled out of the borrowed clothes and
ran for the hills.
How stupid had he been? What a fool for thinking that he could … should make
contact with the one person he cared about? What would he have even said? Lydia
had made it very clear what she thought of him. That she didn't want him any
longer. That he was not worthy of her presence. If he hadn't been worthy then,
what did he have to offer now that he had spent such a long time as a wolf?
Maybe she would enjoy having a guard dog again? He had managed once, he had
done everything for her, still would, and all for a soft word or a gentle
gesture. A word like,
                                     ~ – ~
"Peter!"
He was dreaming. He surely was. Because why on earth would Lydia ever talk to
him like that? Soft and compassionate, like all she ever wanted was for him to
speak with her, to look at her when both knew that he had no right.
"Peter, please. Please, wake up!" Lydia was anxiously touching her wolf's
forehead, petted his hair, straightening the crooked strands that surrounded
his head.
She shouldn't sound like that. This beautiful, genius girl shouldn't sound
timid and afraid. It didn't suit her. Peter was determined to tell her that,
but all he managed was to open his eyes and make a croaking sound. Immediately,
he heard a happy sob. Soft hands fluttered over his face while Aiden's strong,
warm hand pressed down on his chest. The wolf's words were calm and sympathetic
when he directed, "Stay down, Peter. The wolfsbane needs to leave your system
before you can rise."
"Wolfsbane?" Why should they drug him? He had done everything they head asked.
Stiles tousled head moved into his line of sight. "You have been drugged with
wolfsbane, Peter, and not the fun kind. You have to give your body time to get
rid of it. Otherwise, you will hurt yourself."
Peter tried to scramble back. Too overwhelmed by the people he cared so much
about. Why where they looking at him with concern all of the sudden? Why where
they here, wherever 'here' was?
Stiles looked at Aiden at Peter's unexpected reaction and the wolf pulled back
as well. "He smells afraid."
"Afraid of what?"
"Of you? Or me? Or all of us?"
"Then get out!" Lydia's voice broke through their bewilderment, commanding the
pack with resolve.
As Peter had expected, everybody left. When he managed to lift his head a
little and look around, he noticed that they were in some kind of cell, with a
bed and a drip right beside it. Concentrating he could smell blood, and when
Lydia started to caress his head, he realized that she was the source of it.
Snatching her hand, he noticed a needle mark and couldn't supress a distressed
whine. But the girl just shook her head. "It's alright. Stiles pulled the
needle out and the drug lost its hold a short while ago."
"What drug?" With iron determination, was Peter able to scramble into a more or
less upright position. Only now did he realize that he had lain with his head
on Lydia's lap during his hazy wake-up. A part of him wanted to return to the
intimate position but he had no right, not now, not any longer. Lydia however,
ever attentive, realized what was going on with him and immediately crawled
into his lap, as soon as he had found a position against the wall.
Not talking, not daring to question the gesture, Peter wrapped his arms around
her, to stabilize her position. He could smell the other wolves. Aiden, Stiles,
Ethan, Erica, Boyd and the demon Danny. They were all nearby, most likely
outside the room, waiting for him to gather his bearings. But the memories of
what he had been through were still too prominent in his mind to do anything
but to hold on to Lydia with as much strength as he dared.
"I saw them dying." Lydia whispered after a moment, putting her head on his
shoulder so that she would not have to look at him.
"Who?" Instantly, Peter started to comfort her, to caress her hair, untangle
the messy strands.
"Everybody." Her voice now was barely louder than a breath. "We were drugged,
all of us, they gave us nightmares. I dreamed of the pack dying, every last
member. I wanted to die as well, because without all of you, what do I have?"
Closing his eyes, because Lydia had so easily included him in that statement,
Peter pulled her closer yet. Reluctantly he admitted, "You didn't want me
anymore, threw me out of the pack and Aiden and Stiles and Scott, they just
went with it. I stopped thinking clearly, did a poor job as Talia's enforcer.
In the end, I ran. I shifted and ran until I lost myself."
The pain in her scent spiked and Peter wished for a moment that he had kept his
nightmare to himself. But it had helped talking about it, like opening a wound
that had festered, in order for it to heal. Shifting a little, the girl looked
at him, reaching for his face once again, looking into his eyes when she said,
"I would never, ever allow that to happen. Nor would Aiden or Stiles or Scott.
Tell me you know that!"
Closing his eyes, Peter forced a smile on his face, nodding. "I know that."
Her lips over his were unbearably gentle, before she whispered, touching their
foreheads. "Tell me again, when you believe it." Turning around she requested
quietly, "Aiden?"
HAt Lydia's quiet request, her boyfriend appeared beside them the next moment,
helping her to her feet, before offering his hand to Peter. When the three of
them were upright again, Lydia reinforced once again, "It was nothing but a
nightmare." She kissed Peter again, this time her lips lingered, warm and
steady on his before she turned towards Aiden. When Peter looked at the girl's
partner, Aiden smiled and reached for his neck, pulling him into a strong
embrace. "Nothing but a nightmare, not real, try to remember that!"
Peter never thought that he could have this. Not one but two people caring for
him, taking not only his skills into consideration but his emotions as well.
When he looked around, the rest of the pack filtered in through the door. Once
Aiden had let go of him, Stiles stepped up and hugged him as well. The Alpha
didn't say anything, but his scent told Peter better than words how very
relieved the human was, that he was alright. Erica and Boyd were right after
Ethan, and no matter if the demon crept him out, Peter allowed even the demonic
form to hug him for a moment.
Once again grounded in the pack, Peter looked around, asking. "What's will
happen now?"
Cold and furious, a mirror image of Peter's worst nightmare, Stiles hissed,
"Now we are going to find our pack and kill whoever is responsible for this."
                                     ~ – ~
***** Allison & Isaac *****
"Sooner or later, you will have to make a decision, Ally. It's your
responsibility." Her father explained to her patiently. "Your boyfriends are
getting out of control. A little friendly competition is alright, but you saw
them yesterday. They are endangering others, and we can't have that. We are
hunters, it is our job to keep people safe."
No matter how little Allison like it, she knew her father to be right. Scott
and Isaac loved each other, at least they had in the past. But for the last few
weeks, this weird competition over her had started. They made her choose in
which room to sleep. Forced her to decide which wolf she wanted to spent time
with. Usually she wouldn't bother, humouring them to let them get it out of
their system. But yesterday she had seen Scott and Isaac flashing their eyes at
each other in a battle of dominance. She loved them both dearly, but did not
know how to deal with this any longer.
Today they were supposed to negotiate with one of their American suppliers. But
even on their way over to the meeting, Isaac and Scott had constantly growled
at each other. Once they entered negotiations, Scott had been
uncharacteristically headstrong and when Isaac had pointed that out quietly,
the true Alpha had shifted and attacked his pack-member.The supplier got
injured in the process and only with Allison pulling him away, he had survived
the confrontation.
Once they returned home, Stiles pulled her aside and sat her down in his
office. "Allison I know, that you love both Scott and Isaac and that you don't
want to choose between them. But things are getting out of hand. We can't have
an internal war over one member of our pack."
"But they did … they weren't … they love each other!" Allison stammered, eyes
filling with tears.
Shaking his head sadly, Stiles contradicted her, "No, Ally, they love you. They
tried to get along for your sake. We all hoped that you would come to a
decision. But you are just torturing them with your selfish attempt to keep
them both."
"I didn't …," Allison whispered, shaking her head in denial. "That's not true.
You are lying! Why are you lying, Stiles?"
Kneeling down before her, reaching for her hands, Stiles whispered, "What would
I gain from lying to you, Allison? It's the truth and when you try to be
objective for once you will realize that."
Shaking her head like a stubborn mule, the girl pulled back and fled the
office. She hid on the balcony, outside of their attic. The longer she thought
about Stiles' words, the more she realized how true they were. There had always
been some kind of competition between her lovers. They made her lunch, each
trying to best the other with her favourite meal. They had bought her ice-cream
and cookies, to fill the vague craving she had mentioned off handily. But in
the end, they had always laughed about it and shared meal or dessert or
whatever else they had come up with. They had been happy before. Had Allison
purposefully closed her eyes against reality?
Things took a turn for the worst when Allison got injured during an assignment.
Both Scott and Isaac went ballistic after seeing her in the hospital and had
instantly left, after the doctor had told them, that she would make a full
recovery. The girl was scared for her lovers, had tried to hold them back,
because the gaze in their eyes had been murderous. Both had promised her to
bring her attacker to justice, no matter how much she had tried to convince
them otherwise. Frightened where this would end, Allison had left the hospital,
as soon as she had been able to stand on her own feet.
She went home, but neither Scott nor Isaac had been there. Shocked by the news
of what had happened – and strangely out of the loop – Stiles shared that
nobody had seen the two wolves after her hospitalization. Terrified of what
this could mean, Allison asked Stiles to drive her to her father. As expected,
the whole pack wanted to come.
When they arrived at the hunter's house, Chris was already waiting for them.
Wordlessly he opened the door. Dread pooled in Allison's stomach, when she
followed her father into their cellar. They all could hear the snarls of two
feral wolves, as soon as the sound proofed door was opened. The huntress felt
cold dread pooling in her stomach, weighting her down more and more with each
step she descended.
Scott and Isaac were trapped in two cages, at opposite ends of the cellar.
Still they were snarling at each other, ignoring the pack that entered. When
they noticed Allison amongst their friends, their agitation only grew. They
started clawing at the bars of their cages, desperate to reach the girl they
both loved.
"What can we do?" Allison's voice was timid and close to breaking when facing
her feral boyfriends.
Placing a heavy hand on her shoulder, her father answered morose, "You have to
choose, just like I told you."
Stiles was by her side the next moment, emphasizing Chris' words. "We can't
have them both in our pack. You dragged this out for too long, Ally. Now one of
them has to go. And we both know which one."
"And what about Isaac?" The girl whispered, already dreading to hear the
answer.
Putting a gun in her hand, her father turned her towards the enforcer's cage.
"We can't have a feral werewolf running around. You were trained as a hunter,
Allison. You know I'm right. We hunt those who hunt us, and Isaac would hunt
you until the end of time if you sent him away. You led him on for too long, he
will never let you go. Taking him down is the only mercy you can grant him in
the end."
"I can't." Allison started to weep openly, the hand with the gun shaking.
"You have to, Ally," Stiles reminded her. "Otherwise you will destroy the
entire pack."
Against her will, Allison raised the weapon and in the last moment, Isaac
stopped his snarling and ceased all aggression. All he did was looking at her,
begging quietly, "Please, Allison, I love you. Don't do this to me."
The shot that ended the quiet pleading tore into Allison's heart as much as
Isaac's and all the girl could do was scream and scream and scream until she
was hoarse.
                                     ~ – ~
"Allison … Ally, you have to wake up!"
Unbelievably gentle words broke through the veil of her desperation. Opening
her eyes, Allison found herself in Stiles' strong embrace. The leader of their
family was looking down at her with concern. He had been so angry before, so
very disappointed. Why didn't it seemed to matter any longer what she had done?
When she tried to free herself from his embrace, he only held her stronger.
"Don’t, Ally. You are not strong enough to stand up yet."
"But Scott …," she sobbed, still trapped in the images of her nightmare.
"We have not found him yet." Lydia sat beside her, rubbing Allison's clammy
hand. "He, Isaac, Liam and Derek are still missing and we don't know if they
caught Melissa as well."
"Caught Melissa? But she's human …"
"So are we." Stiles reminded her. "Someone has it out for us. And that someone
doesn't care about werewolves or humans," gesturing towards Danny, "or demons
for that matter."
"You think they know about our wolves?"
"Clearly," the spark stated dryly. "Otherwise they wouldn't use wolfsbane to
induce nightmares."
Looking around, Allison slowly became aware of her surroundings. "Nightmares?"
She breathed nearly inaudible.
Boyd appeared by her side the next moment, offering his hand, pulling the
huntress into his arms. Hugging her with uncharacteristic strength, he
whispered into her ear, "Nightmares! They were not real, no matter how they
felt."
Taking the comfort from the usually stoic wolf, Allison wrapped her arms around
him tightly before she felt Erica at her back. The redhead rubbed her face into
Allison's shoulder. One after the other all pack members touched the girl until
Stiles reminded them, "As far as we know, the others are still out there,
suffering like we did. We have to find them and end this. I don't want them to
live through this torture a moment longer than necessary!"
                                     ~ – ~
It had been horrible. To be confronted with their worst fears, suffering
through them, it had nearly broken them. Only with the help of Stiles and
through him the pack bond had the wolves and humans managed to regain their
sanity after waking up. And while it had been bad for them it was worse for
Isaac. To him the assumption of torture, could not be truer.
It had all started really nice. Isaac had come home after a boring day at the
company, where the worst of his problems had been a delayed shipping for one of
their legal clients. Meredith had been uncharacteristically chatty, meaning she
had talked to him twice without referring to work or somebody dying. At home
there had been a slight tension in the air but Isaac wrote it off as work
related stress for the others.
When he joined Allison and Scott in the Alpha's bedroom, both of his partners
had been uncharacteristically aggressive. But the truth was, Isaac enjoyed that
now and then. He loved their gentle love-making, but today Scott and Allison
were taking and taking and taking all he had to give and Isaac revelled in the
feeling of being able to satisfy his lovers.
Yet the next day continued in the same fashion and the day after, and the day
after. Slowly Isaac started to hurt from the tiny wounds Scott was inflicting
in his passion because the Alpha wouldn't give him time to heal. Allison got
cold, nearly detached, only chasing her own pleasure, not caring about Isaac's
at all. When the beta-wolf mentioned that, both of his lovers shared a look
that made him feel uneasy. Yet when Allison put her arms around his neck,
petting along his collar, he relaxed a little. "Maybe we need to find another
way to blow off some steam," she purred in the tall boy's ear.
Scott snickered condescendingly. "Yea, why don't we go down to the gym?" He
guided Isaac down with a clawed hand at the small part of the boy's back.
Allison still hung on Isaac's arm, so he didn't think about it. Physical
exercise might do all of them some good.
Yet when they arrived, Allison didn't guide him towards one of the training
machines. Instead Scott opened the secret wall that hid their not so illegal
documents and equipment. The curly haired boy looked at it with big eyes,
trembling when the darkness seems to spill out of the tiny room.
"Come on, Isaac," Allison laughed coldly. "You knew this was coming."
"What?" Turning towards Scott, Isaac shook his head. "I don't understand …"
Pushing away from the wall, Scott approached him and brushed through his curls.
"You didn't really think we would let your insolence slide, did you?" Pulling
back Isaac's head painfully, the Alpha flashed his eyes and growled into the
beta's ears. "You are a tool and a toy. A tool for Stiles that he keeps out of
the goodness of his heart despite having someone better. A toy for Allison and
me. And, Isaac, since when are toys allowed to voice an opinion?"
Harshly dragging him into the hidden compartment, the werewolf continued. "You
know we were wrong about your dad."
Folding her arms, Allison looked down at Isaac who lay half splayed on the
floor, because Scott's final shove had unbalanced him. "Clearly you forget your
place if you are out of confinement for an extended amount of time." She hissed
venomously. "We will correct that. From now on you will be obedient and
servile, as is expected of you. We will only leave you in here for a few days
to begin with. It should give you some perspective!"
"Days?" Dread pushed Isaac to his feet again, yet before he could flee the
small room, that's door already closed, Scott roared him into submission,
having him cower against the far wall, watching the two people he had loved the
most ever since his family's death, kiss each other lovingly before turning
away from him.
The darkness was horrible, even worse than he remembered. But no amount of
shouting and howling, of slamming first his fists and then himself against the
wall until he was bloody and broken brought any reprieve. His lovers were truly
finished with him and in a way, being locked away like a useless tool … or toy,
hurt even more than being cast out. Abandoning him to the street would have
meant that they no longer cared. But this, this was torture, proving that all
they saw in him was entertainment for their own twisted pleasure.
                                     ~ – ~
When Isaac came around, he noticed that his head was softly cushioned. His body
was hurting, but not like he was injured. His muscles simply felt sore, like he
had overdone his exercises. When he opened his eyes too look at his – no doubt
bloody – hand, he noticed that he was lying with his head in Allison's lap, her
fingers softly caressing his hair. Immediately he scrambled back, looking at
her with fear of the next punishment she would come up with. He was supposed to
be either tool, or toy. Lying on the floor he could fulfil neither positions.
His attempt to get more space was stopped when he hit Stiles' legs with his
back. Whipping around, Isaac curled into himself at the human Alpha's feet. In
a last, desperate attempt to receive some mercy, he clutched Stiles' trousers
and looked up pleadingly. His voice was hoarse when he whispered, "I will be
good, I swear, Stiles! I will be so very good, obedient and submissive.
Anything you want. Just don't let her lock me up again. Please …"
Isaac flinched at the unexpected sob he heard. Clearly someone was as
distressed as he was. It had sounded like Allison, but she would be more angry
than distressed at his obvious attempt to circumvent her and Scott's verdict.
Yet Isaac didn't care. Couldn't care any longer because being forced back into
that tiny room surely would drive him insane. With a frantic whine he pressed
closer to Stiles' legs, and the boy possessively touched his head, pulling him
in. He would do everything, no matter what the Don of the Stilinski family
demanded. Anything to remain free. Isaac pushed into Stiles' hand, seeking
comfort and shelter, ignoring the agitated voices that surrounded them because
he hoped to draw as little attention as possible to himself that way.
"What's wrong with him?"
"What does he need?"
The twins voiced their concerns nearly simultaneously. They had watched the
other pack members fighting off the effects of the drugs. But none of them had
smelled and acted as terrified as Isaac. Clearly his mind still had not caught
up with reality, if the way he was trembling at Stiles feet was anything to go
by. Still, Stiles did not seem overly concerned. Calmly he was petting Isaac,
allowing the wolf to shift between his legs.
The human Alpha's words were soft not to distress the frightened werewolf more.
"He's just like the two of you. You both were terribly afraid of being cast out
of the pack. Did Isaac ever tell you what his dad did to discipline him?"
Wordlessly the twins nodded before their eyes darkened with terrible
understanding. Immediately, they crouched down beside the shaking wolf. With a
tenderness that belied their usually so energetic nature, they lightly brushed
over the frightened wolf's back, promising quietly, "No one will lock you away
ever again." Aiden started, and Ethan emphasized, "We won't let them, we
promise!"
It was the last straw for Allison when Isaac turned around at these assurances,
and looked at her with fear in his eyes. With a broken sob she turned around,
sinking into Lydia's arms, who had approached her from behind. The pack still
tried to be as quiet and as inconspicuous as possible. For now their captors
had not cared about them. The lack of surveillance in these hallways and
Molokai's assurances confirmed that they still had a few hours to sunrise.
Despite all that, it would not do to draw any attention towards them.
Looking around, smelling the pack's distress and most of all Allison's misery,
it was easy for Isaac to believe Stiles' hushed explanation, that all the pain
he had suffered had been of his minds own making. Neither Allison nor Scott
wished to abandon him. His girlfriend loved him and when the curly haired boy
finally followed Stiles' gentle prodding to approach her, she practically flew
into his arms, so that all Isaac could do was hold on and never let go.
Sobbing into his shoulder, Allison shared, "They made me think that I had
killed you. Made me believe that I had to choose, because you and Scott were
going feral because you were so jealous. And they made you believe that I would
lock you up, torture you like that bastard of a father of yours. Oh god, Isaac,
what kind of monsters are these?"
Looking up at Stiles, Lydia and the rest of the pack, painfully aware of every
person that was still missing, Isaac slowly felt his strength returning to him,
especially with his usually so strong huntress clinging to him like she was
afraid to let go. Watching the murderous intent in his Alpha's eyes, Isaac
pondered, "The worst kind of monsters that exists in this world: humans."
"Hunters," Lydia added.
"A few wolves as well, I think." Stiles added and the demon by his side
confirmed, "The strength of a few wolves definitely would have been of great
help in this setup."
Allison brushed away some tears before she straightened beside Isaac, who
hovered protectively at her back, "We should rule out nothing yet. Best to be
prepared for the worst. But before we think about our captors, we need to find
Scott and the others."
At that directive, the wolves turned into one direction. Yet before one of the
humans could mention that strange behaviour, Stiles grinned, "True Alpha, that
way I think."
                                     ~ – ~
***** Scott & Liam *****
A shot tore through the night. Following his instinct, Scott twisted Stiles'
body so that he was between the attacker and the Don of the Stilinski crime
family. He ignored the pain of the bullet tearing into his body since the
familiar burning of wolfsbane was absent. Shouting angrily – he had meant to
howl, why hadn't he howled – he threw himself at the attacker who had dared to
make an attempt on his best friends life.
"SCOTT, STOP!" Stiles fearful outcry did not even register when Scott lifted
his hand to beat that jerk senseless, but all he managed was to injure his own
hand with the first hit. With a painful hiss, he shook out his arm, completely
taken aback, when Isaac pulled him off his victim, dealing with the rivalling
dealer himself.
Looking around, Scott noticed that the pack had the situation well under
control. He staggered and fell to his knees at the unexpected pain blossoming
in his torso. Stiles fell to his knees beside him, looking at him with fearful
eyes, pressing both hands on the still bleeding wound.
His best friend's voice was shaking when he ordered, "We have to get Scott to
the hospital. Now!"
Surprised that he did not possess the strength to brush the human aside, Scott
shook his head. "No, there's no wolfsbane in the bullet. Just bring me to
Deaton. He will stitch me up."
Unbelieving, Stiles yelled. "What the hell, Scott? Are you insane? You are
bleeding. You just got shot, remember? What, by all the gods made you think
that it was a good idea to jump between me and a bullet? I have wolves for that
kind of stunt. Also I am wearing a vest, you know. Where the hell is yours?"
Smiling weakly, maybe there was some unknown strand of wolfsbane in the bullet
after all, Scott tried his best to sit up, despite Stiles' attempts to hold him
down. "I'm an Alpha, I will heal as soon as you get the bullet out."
The pack was now gathering around them, looking down at Scott in equal parts
confusion, surprise and worry. Stiles was the one who captured his attention
once again, whispering nearly too quietly for Scott to hear, "What are you
talking about, Scotty? You are not even a werewolf."
                                     ~ – ~
Scott shot up from the bed he had been placed in. Each frantic breath tore
through him painfully. It was as if his lungs were constricted, as if he
couldn't make himself take a deep breath. Bordering on the edge of panic, he
started to shake, clawing at the railings of the hospital bed, until long,
dextrous fingers came into his line of sight, holding up his inhaler. A gentle
hand was prompting him up, and Stiles spoke as soothing as ever, "Calm down.
Everything is alright. Just take a deep breath and you are going to be fine."
Unsurprisingly, it helped. His best friend had always had the uncanny ability
to calm him when Scott was beginning to panic during one of his asthmatic
attacks. But that had not happened ever since receiving the bite. Stiles words
from before hit him full force and once again his breathing became erratic. The
boy next to him would have none of that. Pulling down the railing, settling on
the hospital bed, pulling Scott into his arms like he had in elementary school,
Stiles directed him softly. "Deep breaths, Scott. You have to calm down.
Everything is alright."
"How can you … say that everything … is alright?" Scott forced out. "I should
be … a werewolf. Where is … our pack?"
Seeing gold sparkling in his best friend's eyes, the door to the hospital room
banged against the wall. Stiles' ordered evenly, "Come in."
One by one, Allison, Isaac, Boyd and Erica entered the room. But they did not
look like themselves. Well, maybe with Boyd as the only exception. It was hard
to alter stoic. Allison was in full gear, armoured in leather and kevlar. Isaac
had a nasty scar, running down the side of his neck. Erica wore
uncharacteristically dark make-up and kept one hand hidden in the folds of her
jacket and Boyd had some pretty nasty burns disfiguring the side of his face.
Looking at his best friend in confusion, Scott noticed for the first time that
Stiles too had a nasty looking scar running from his forehead, over is right
eye, down to his cheek. Shaking his head, the asthmatic human asked, "What
happened? Where do the scars and burns come from? And where are Ethan and
Aiden, and Danny, and Liam?"
Laughing humourlessly, Erica shook her head, "You mean Deucalion's twins? We
eradicated them, the same night we received these." Holding up her hidden hand,
Erica showed the extent of burnt tissue that surely would have caused a human
to lose the appendage.
"And Danny? He is at home, in his room where he should be. A full-fledged,
unanchored demon is too dangerous to let him roam freely." Stiles piped up,
sounding quite bitter.
"But you," Scott turned around, "Aren't you his Master?"
"Yes, Scott, I'm his Master." Stiles deadpanned, "That's why he is still
allowed to live."
"I don't understand." Even to his own ears his words sounded small and
pathetic.
"Deucalion." Was the one-worded explanation Lydia gave regarding the twins,
when entering the room. She too wore uncharacteristically glum colours and
Scott was willing to bet a lot of money that the stylish corset she was wearing
was bullet-proofed as well. "Our little run in with the demon wolf, ended with
a torched barn and an arsenic investigation."
"A fire?" Slowly Scott felt like a parrot, but honestly, none of this made any
sense.
Defensive, Stiles pulled back a little. "Well I had to do something. The darach
had us trapped and I had to save the pack. So I burned down the barn."
Remembering the faithful night, Scott shot up, clasping his best friend's hand.
"Mum … Stiles, where is my mother?"
Shaking his head sadly, Stiles hugged him close, whispering apologetically, "I
couldn't save her. Deucalion used her as leverage, and I was not strong enough
to save her. I eradicated his entire pack, Erica and Boyd nearly didn't make it
out and I got better since but that night … but then … I simply was not strong
enough. I'm so sorry, Scott."
Feeling his lungs constricting in his chest, Scott shook his head. This could
not be happening. This was not real. Clawing his way up from the bed, he tried
to get out. Out of Stiles' arms. Away from the pitying looks of wolves that
should be under his protection. But Scott couldn't even make it out of the bed.
Dozens of hands, accompanied by several distressed sounds held him down and no
matter how hard he fought, he could not free himself from them. He was supposed
to worry about them, to care about them, but the anguished howl that tore from
his throat was nothing but the pathetic cry of a weak, asthmatic teenager who
had not even been strong enough to protect his own mother.
                                     ~ – ~
The entire pack flinched back when Scott shot up from the floor with an
almighty roar. Until now they had allowed the respective partners, those in the
pack closest, to ease the newly woken through the transition from nightmare to
reality. But with their Alpha it had been different. No amount of wolfsbane –
and there was considerably more in Scott's cell than in any other – could have
kept the wolves from him. So Stiles had directed them to a quick reach and
retrieve, and they had all gathered around Scott, whining under their breaths
at the distress he broadcasted while unconscious.
At his terrifying roar, they all flinched back, cowered before blazing red
eyes. Stiles had been willing to give the wolves some time with their Alpha,
but he now stepped between the frantic werewolf and his pack. Lifting his hands
in a placating gesture he approached his best friend. Evenly he ordered, "Easy,
Scott. I know you are scared but you are frightening your pack. Take a deep
breath and calm down."
"My pack?" Shaking from nerves and the adrenalin that was burning the wolfsbane
out of his veins, Scott looked from his best friend to the cowering wolves.
Boyd's face was not burned, Erica unharmed. Ally wore no armour and his curly
haired boyfriend presented his unharmed neck in a submissive gesture. Ethan and
Aiden stood at their backs, upright but avoiding his eyes. Lydia looked annoyed
but wore her accustomed white blouse and colourful mini-skirt. Danny in his
demonic form seemed ready to intervene and Stiles …
His best friend had reached for his wrists, entirely unperturbed by the sharp
claws Scott had grown. In gentle movements Stiles rubbed his pulse points to
calm him down. Breathing wetly, Scott looked up from his fingers, meeting
Stiles eyes while tearing up. "I have claws …"
"You do."
Trembling because he was still not sure which memories were dream and which
were reality, Scott slowly raised one hand, gingerly touching the prominent
features on his forehead. "I'm a werewolf."
He choked before Stiles managed to wrap him into a tight embrace, rubbing his
back. "You sure are, buddy. No asthma, instead strength and power. A true Alpha
the pack always can rely upon."
As always, Stiles proved the uncanny ability to forestall Scott's worries. His
best friend could not know what horrors had plagued him, but he surely found
the right words to calm him down. That he was not the only one who had suffered
became clear, when Scott lifted his head from where he had buried it in Stiles'
shoulder. The others looked at him with uncertainty and longing written all
over their faces. The teenager didn't even hesitate for a second before he
opened his arms, reaching for them.
With a noise that was half whine and half sob, they crowded their two Alphas,
rubbing themselves all over them, relaxing in the pack-bond. This situation was
far from resolved, but with Stiles and Scott together once again, they were all
sure that they would come out of this on top. For a few moments, Scott allowed
himself to take comfort from his pack before he asked quietly, "Mum?"
But all Stiles had to offer was a shrug. "Either trapped in one of these rooms
or still outside. I can't tell, the concrete is blocking my abilities."
Resolved, Scott looked at his best friend, at his pack, before he decided,
"Let's find out. If they hurt a single hair on her head, we will rip them to
pieces!"
The violent threat had come out as a roar, but instead of cowering again, the
pack mirrored their Alphas call. Smiling at each other, ready to draw blood,
Scott and Stiles took the lead. Only three more members of their pack were
missing. May god have mercy on their kidnappers, because the Stilinski-McCall
would have none.
                                     ~ – ~
Living with the Stilinski-McCall pack was not all fun and games. Well, actually
it was, at least at the moment. In Pittsburg, Liam had had friends, too. Yet he
had not been allowed to participate in any extracurricular activities at
school. He had been expected to come home immediately after the final lesson to
make himself useful. Mark had had a very close view of what Liam should be
allowed to do, and Maria had not dared to contradict him. In Beacon Hills
however, he was allowed to play lacrosse, to participate in any club that
evoked his interest and still had his pack to care for him when he came home.
At the moment they were having a training exercise in the back yard.
Liam was proud of how good he had become over the last few months. With Scott's
and Danny's help he had trained his senses and supernatural abilities. He could
run faster, hit harder and distinguish more easily between friend and foe
through smell alone. He could rely on his senses to tell him what those around
him were feeling and despite a few setbacks during the last few days Liam
thought that Scott was generally more proud than annoyed with him. Today it was
supposed to fight several other pack members separately, to come up with
effective defences against different combat styles. Yet despite his
achievements, today he felt considerably off his game. Somehow he was not able
to control his strength, and while the wolves did not care for one hit or the
other, Allison hissed at him angrily when he sliced open her shoulder. Scott's
angry growl made him swallow down his apology and retreat to the far end of the
training area.
Stiles agreed to be his next sparring partner, but directed him to be mindful
of his claws. At first it went really well. They were trying attacks and
counterattacks, riposte and dodging. Slowly, Liam started to relax again and
went with the flow of the exercise. He pondered on how different things were
with his new family. Surely they got angry with him, but they didn't stop
loving him, wanted him around no matter what he did. Right?
Too slow to counter the next swipe of Liam's claws, Stiles tumbled to the
floor, covering the left side of his face, blood spilling out from behind
clenched fingers. Before Liam could apologize, Derek was upon him, roaring
furiously. Before the young boy was able to catch up with what was happening,
Derek was dragging him through the back garden by the scruff of his neck. With
a particularly violent kick, he opened a well there. That had always been
there, hadn't it? Ignorant to any potential injuries this might cause, Derek
pushed him over the edge, hissing after him, "If you can't remember your place,
I will put you into it!"
The words were as much of a shock to Liam as the cold water swallowing him.
Mark had said that to him, usually accompanying the phrase with a few hits of
his hand or belt. Liam had been afraid then, but it was nothing compared to the
sense of dread that filled him now. With Mark he had learned to expect such a
treatment, but with the pack? Was he really that useless, that incapable of
getting anything right? Maybe his sister's boyfriend had been right. Maybe he
was just that worthless and the pack had finally caught up on it.
Having the horrible memories from his abduction resurface in the depth of the
well, Liam did his best not to panic. He could hear the pack fussing over
Stiles and one time he even heard the word 'stitches'. Had his slash really
been so deep? What if Stiles lost his eye? Liam didn't dare to climb up and
confirm his worst fears.
Once the sun went down however, he tried to emerge from the well and when he
finally managed, he found a cold sandwich on the stairs of the back garden. Not
even a drink, just the sandwich. Wolfing it down hungrily, Liam curled up on
the swing bench, covering his shivering body with the fraying blankets they
kept at hand. He had barely shut his eyes for a few minutes, when Boyd opened
the door from the living room, gently pulling him up by the arm.
Grateful, that someone was paying him any mind, Liam started to apologize.
"Look, I'm really sorry what happened during training today. I will take better
care tomorrow. I can do better, I swear!" Yet the boy with the dark skin
remained mute and when looking around, Liam noticed that Boyd had guided him
back to the well. Starting to fight the taller teenager, Liam was helpless
against the other wolf's superior strength. Unceremoniously, he was pushed over
the edge again, spluttering and shivering when he came up for air again. Only
then could he hear Boyd's deep bass. "Your Alpha, the one you injured so
carelessly, is still at the hospital. They are not sure if they will be able to
save his eye."
                                     ~ – ~
That night, Liam didn't try to come up again and when he dared the next day
around noon, he found cold eggs and a bagel on the back porch. He ate them
hesitantly. When he tried to enter the house, Erica stepped into his way,
dragging him back to the well. She had disappeared from Liam's restricted line
of sight before the young werewolf had resurfaced. No amount of shouting and
pleading brought her back.
The next days continued in the same fashion. Whenever he managed to reach the
surface, he found scraps of a meal. Yet the first member of the pack who saw
him pushed him back into his cold, wet prison. Liam felt his powers dwindling.
He did not nearly get enough food to keep up his strength and though he had
learned to sleep, or at least doze off while floating, he barely managed to
keep his eyes open any longer. He had long stopped crying, realizing that
nobody cared for his tears.
In one last, desperate attempt, he made his way up from the well one evening.
But since he had received both breakfast and lunch that day, no food was
waiting for him. When he kneeled on the lowest stair of their porch, curling
into himself in resigned sorrow, he heard the door open in front of him. Nearly
at the end of his strength, Liam didn't even bother to look up.
Those who towered above him however, were not used to being ignored. "You don't
get it, Liam, do you? I honestly thought you smarter." Danny started, with a
disapproving glance at his thrall.
"The only reason for you still being around is that your human Alpha took mercy
on you, despite knowing that you don't deserve it." Scott hissed viciously.
"Stiles?" Liam asked hopeful, scrambling to get to his feet. He flinched back
and sank to the floor again when Scott growled at his pathetic attempts.
"He's still at the hospital, trying to heal from a wound that might have killed
him were he not a spark." Enclosing Liam's neck in a vice grip, that had even
the weakened werewolf clawing at his hands to get some air, the Alpha roared,
"My best friend is trying to adjust to a life with but one eye, because you
clawed out the other! Don't you dare speak of him, cur!"
Without the slightest care for Liam's wellbeing, Scott dragged the young
werewolf through their garden. Helplessly, the boy looked around for Danny, at
least as much as the constriction around his throat allowed it. When he finally
spotted the incubus, the human demon carried a big wooden shield. But he was
too far away for Liam to even try and beg for mercy. Not that it would have
done him any good. The face of his master was closed off and dispassionate.
Holding the young boy at the edge of his well, Scott growled, "You will stay
where we put you, and you only come out if we give you permission. Maybe Stiles
still has some use for you. Until then, stay out of our sight!" Simply opening
his hand, Scott let Liam fall into the well once again.
The tumble was disorienting and where Liam usually had a few, meagre rays of
sun to tell him which way was up, when he broke through the surface, the last
thing he could see was Danny covering the top of the well with the wood he had
carried. His voice was exasperated when he asked, "Do you think the imbecile
gets it this time, Scott?"
"If he doesn't we will simply close it with masonry." The Alpha answered
coldly. "No use in burdening the pack with a useless little shit like him."
It was like Mark all over again, and no amount of shouting and pleading and
desperate cries brought any of them back. In the end Liam stopped fighting,
because if not even his pack thought him worth something it was better to end
things altogether. With one last inconsolable thought towards his human Alpha,
Liam let the water swallow him. He had destroyed the young man's life and had
not even managed to apologize for it.
                                     ~ – ~
"Hey, you have to wake up, pup." A soft voice reached Liam's ear and the next
thing he noticed were soft fingers carding through his hair.
A second voice … Scott … whispered kindly, "The whole pack is worried for you.
You have to open your eyes, little one."
In a forlorn attempt to obey his Alpha, Liam fought past the dizziness in his
head and opened his eyes. The first thing he noticed was that Scott was
caressing his head, but before he could think about the why, he instinctively
flinched back, making the older wolf raising his hands in a placating gesture.
The retreating movement however, made him realize that he had practically
crawled into Stiles lap. Whipping around he looked into two, worried honey-
brown eyes. With a sob he threw his arms around the human's neck, crying out,
"You can see, with both eyes!"
Liam did not notice the confused look his Alphas shared, because Stiles
answered his vice-grip on his neck, with a strong hug of his own. He pulled the
crying teenager, who was mumbling non-coherent apologies into his neck, as
close as possible, caressing his head and rubbing the boy's back to calm him
down.
"It was a dream, Liam." Stiles assured him, once the boy had calmed down a
little. "Nothing but a bad dream. None of it was real."
It took the young teenager some time to start believing Stiles. Tentatively he
looked at his Alpha and the demon he belonged to. But all he saw in their eyes
was compassion and care. When Liam finally eased his vice-grip around Stiles
neck and allowed Scott to pull him close, he needed a few moments, before
burying into his Alpha's form.
Before he could understand what was happening, the rest of the pack closed in
on the two and every wolf seemed to have made it his mission to pet and comfort
and assure their youngest member that they loved and cared for him. After a
while, Liam rubbed his eyes embarrassed, asking miserably, "Can we go home now?
I really don't like this place."
He willingly took Stiles' hand to rise from the floor while his Alpha answered,
"Let's find Derek and Melissa and then Danny will get you home."
In a wordless conversation behind Liam's back, the two Alphas had decided that
they would do their best to keep Liam as far away from the fight as possible.
The teenager apparently didn't share the pack's desire for revenge. He looked
scared and small and if they had the chance they would wrap him in a blanket
and hide him away from the ugliness that was about to come. The later they
introduced him to the inevitable violence that was part of their lives the
better.
As it where, the pack took positions around their youngest member, protecting
him to the best of their abilities until they could get him home.
                                     ~ – ~
***** Derek & Melissa *****
Still missing Melissa and Derek, they reached a stairway that seemed to ascend
to the next level. Though they all were still hoping that Melissa was safe at
home or at the hospital, there was no chance for Derek to be elsewhere, since
Stiles' last memory was Isaac, Danny, Derek and him being in the same car on
their way home.
"Where is Derek?" Stiles asked, bordering on panicking. "We have to get back,
check all the rooms we didn't open!"
"We listened into every room, Stiles." Ethan reminded him.
Aiden added, "Nobody is down here but us!"
"I can't …" Stiles started worriedly. "He has to be somewhere!" The teenager
insisted, turning around, as if willing to go back.
Aware that his co-Alpha was a little too emotionally invested this time to make
the smartest call, Scott pulled him around once again. "Stiles?"
"Scotty, we …"
Shaking his head Scott looked into his best friend's eyes calmly and demanded.
"Find Derek for me!"
"How should I …?"
Reaching for Stiles' wrist, Scott brushed over the bracelet. He didn't know how
much time the kidnappers had invested into get the thing off of Stiles. A
slight abrasion on his wrist and a few scratches on the metal indicated: quite
a lot. But while all their other jewellery and electronics were gone, the
tracking bracelet was still there. "Find our missing wolf!"
Taking a deep breath, Stiles nodded and closed his fingers around Scott's
wrist. He had enough magic stored for a simple tracking spell, especially when
the target was as eager to be found as the bracelet. The trick with this
unobtrusive jewellery was that it didn't really matter who wore it. The
bracelets themselves wanted to be close, and Stiles latched onto that feeling.
After barely a minute he opened his eyes again, swirls of gold dying in them
when he pointed south and upwards. "He's up there, very close. Not even outside
the building I would say."
                                     ~ * ~
The pack climbed the stairs and reached a locked door. Stiles probed it once in
frustration, but didn't dare to do more. It was quite likely that their
kidnappers were waiting for them at the other side of this door. The quieter
and stealthier they were, the better their chances to surprise them. Catching
their kidnappers unaware would be the ideal outcome and increase their chances
in the inevitable fight.
Quietly, they were discussing what amount of damage was justified and how to
best apply it, when Lydia cleared her throat at the end of the staircase. When
Stiles and Scott turned around, she directed them pleasantly, "Gentleman, eyes
to the left please."
Turning to look at the hinges of the door, Scott looked at her in confusion,
while Stiles thumped his forehead against the door. Grateful he mumbled, "I
know there is a reason why I love you most of all, Lyds."
Stiles smiled at the mumbled protests from the rest of his pack, making room
for Scott. "Try to pull the hinges out of the concrete. That will be quieter
and much easier than prying open the lock."
With a sheepish smile, Scott nodded and started to work his claws into the
cracked, old concrete of the wall. It was tedious work, because despite his
superior strength he had very little leverage to free the angles. Yet after a
while, while the pack had huddled together at the bottom of the stairwell, he
managed to unhinge the door. Boyd and Isaac were currently reaching over his
head, steadying the door so that they could take it away as quietly as
possible.
Yet it didn't make the slightest change, because once the door was open and the
pack was emerging into the big, dark storehouse, they heard weapons clocking
all around them. They were surrounded.
                                     ~ * ~
Immediately they arranged themselves in a defensive stance while Stiles pulled
Liam behind his back. It did little in terms of protection, since there were
hunters all around them, judging by the heavy smell of wolfsbane in the air.
They did their best to protect their pup still. Stiles could feel the wolves
around him growing nervous again. He could see sweat forming on Scott's
forehead, felt Liam's fingers clutching the back of his shirt, but Stiles, nor
any of the other humans were drugged at the moment. So the pack had something
they had missed in their cells: the support of their anchors.
Quietly Stiles directed the pack, "Take a deep breath." Nearly snickering,
because that would get the wolfsbane into their systems even faster, the
werewolves hesitated. Yet Stiles insisted, "Deep breaths people. Concentrate on
the human pack members. The drug is too diluted to take full effect, otherwise
the werewolves who stand next to these hunters would be out of their mind as
well."
Taking half a step to get closer together, the wolves followed the directive
and managed to calm their racing hearts. Lydia, Allison, the demon but
especially Stiles did not smell like fear. They smelled pissed off, royally. It
was easy for the werewolves to anchor themselves in that anger.
"You have an impressive amount of control over your pets." A female voice, calm
and superior sounded from the shadows. After a heartbeat a beautiful huntress
stepped into view. Stiles did not need to feel Liam cowering at his back,
hearing him whimper in fear to conclude that she had been the one responsible
for his abduction last year.
"They are not pets, they are pack!" Stiles clarified icily, while claiming a
place at the front.
Snickering, the woman approached him, seemingly unaffected by the growls of the
werewolves at his back.
"Don't get me wrong, Mr. Stilinski." She explained jovially. "I absolutely see
the appeal of having wolves at one's side." Gesturing towards the hunters along
the railing that surrounded them, every one of them had a partially shifted
wolf by his side. "But that won't save you in the end. Because you see, you
trusted one of these animals a little too much and soon thereafter he will
share all of your secrets."
"Derek!" Stiles hissed, trying to attack her, only Liam, by now shivering from
fear, held him back.
Gesturing towards the back-wall, a gate was pushed aside and Derek, chained to
a metal table came into view. He was partially connected to some kind of
electronic torture device that was manned by another hunter. At the woman's
gesture, he dialled up and a painful amount of voltage seemed to run through
Derek's body, if the hoarse cries of the wolf were anything to go by. Derek
sounded like they had had a go at him for quite some time now. Maybe even as
long as the others had been trapped, because though is body contracted in pain,
his voice was barely audible any longer.
When the woman made an aborting motion, the man stopped the current, leaning
over his victim to ask him something. Scott made an unbelieving noise at
Stiles' back. "They are asking for our account numbers."
Derek however didn't seem to act to the guy's liking, because after his answer
the man made an outrageous cry and backhanded him viciously.
Making her way back to the torture room, not caring in the slightest that the
pack was following a few steps behind her, she brushed her fingers through
Derek's sweaty hair. "He's loyal, I give you that, but if you are dead, who
will he have to be loyal to?"
"I would never, ever betray Stiles." Derek was weak, but the desperate decision
not to give in was written all over his face.
The huntress however didn't even seem to care. In a mocking tender gesture,
like a lover, she caressed Derek's face. "Well, in that case we have to have a
transferal of loyalty. You have quite a track record with that. Don't you
Derek?"
"I would never betray my pack." The wolf hissed weakly, but the woman only
laughed.
"Of course you would. You have done it before."
"No."
Stiles and Derek spoke simultaneously. Pleading desperation laced Derek's tone.
The human spoke with utter conviction.
When the huntress continued her taunt, Derek struggled to get free, but all the
gesture earned him was another round of torture.
Stiles fought against the hands holding him back. True he still were a dozen or
so feet away from the device, but he had to do something! Scott however could
see how Stiles breaking from their group would expose him to the hunters. He
could not allow his best friend to become a target so he pulled him back.
In the meantime, the huntress explained silkily, while Derek struggled with his
last strength against his bindings. Mocking Derek she laughed, "Kate was so
very good at this. She had this preference for younger boys – they are always
so eager to please – but when she told us of the true nature of her latest boy-
toy we knew she had hit the jackpot."
Scott put his arm in a vice grip around Stiles chest, whispering into his ear
to calm him while the huntress continued. "He always ran at heel when she told
him, did everything she asked of him. In the end he needed very little
prompting to invite her into his own home. He even thought it had been his
idea!"
Derek was unable to look at Stiles any longer after that revelation. The entire
pack could smell his shame. It even surmounted the physical pain he was in.
"So you see," The huntress concluded, "With you gone, all I will need is a
little time before I will have your pet heeling for me."
                                     ~ * ~
"Would you kill them already!" The man who had tortured Derek demanded
exasperated. "You said this would be swift and clean. Not that we would torture
them for days! They are a risk until we get rid of them."
"Oh chill." She rolled her eyes. "We outnumber them two to one, human and
werewolf each."
"He can stand it, Stiles." Scott whispered into his best friend's ear during
this brief intercourse where the attention of the huntress and her henchman was
diverted. "After everything Derek had been through, this will be nothing but
another hit. The last one. Because we will get him out of here as soon as the
fight is over."
Stiles gazed briefly over his shoulder, looking at the wolves who had followed
their conversation because they were so close. Each and every one of them
nodded nearly unperceivably. They stepped closer still, touching Scott,
touching Stiles, connecting the spark to the pack-bond.
Turning towards the huntress, Stiles took a deep breath. He had found his
anchor again and grounded himself through it. "You really think numbers will
make a difference?" He asked softly.
"What?" She sneered at him, clearly convinced of her superior position.
"It won't make a difference," Stiles decided in a whisper. "Not for you, and
certainly not for him." The teenage boy gestured towards the man who had
tortured and interrogated Derek.
"You stupid, little teenager." Turning towards the table, she picked up one of
the 'a few volts away from a lightsaber'-sticks, but Stiles didn't give her the
chance to use it. They had but one chance. They couldn't take all of them. The
huntress had been smart. But the Stilinski-McCall pack contained nothing but
extraordinary people. And they wouldn't allow these megalomaniac bastards to
best them. Not after what they had done.
So Stiles gathered all of the energy he had stored, pulled on the pack and
directed a single flash of lightning at the electronic device on the table. It
shot an overload of energy through the tortured werewolf’s system and his
scream was deafening before Stiles overloaded the power-grid of the warehouse,
plunging all of them in absolute darkness. Derek's cry was drowned when their
banshee opened her mouth and screamed.
                                     ~ * ~
The pack had an easy time picking off the humans one by one as long as their
'pet-werewolves' were incapacitated by the banshee's scream. Stiles' eyes were
glowing golden, allowing him to see and disable the most imminent threats right
before them. He had shoved Liam towards Derek and the small wolf had not
hesitated to work on the bonds to get their injured pack-member out of the
fighting zone.
Derek was hurting all over, but the physical pain had nothing on the emotional
one. He knew that his time with the Stilinski-McCall pack had come to an end
tonight. After all, who would want a traitor in their midst? Still, he was too
weak to protest when Liam was pulling him out of harm's way. He would not have
been strong enough to resist the young wolf anyway.
Most of the humans were subdued by now and the pack was starting to fight the
werewolves, with a strength that seemed fuelled by fear and desperation. Scott
had three circling him, Isaac two. Molokai on the other hand made up for two
humans at least by swiping the wolves off their feet, before 'distracting' them
with his magic. The twins had not even bothered to merge again, easily holding
their ground. Erica and Boyd fought with a viciousness that betrayed their
inner conflicts, as did Peter. No matter what nightmares had plagued them, they
made them all the more dangerous now.
Stiles watched. He had relieved the hunters' pair of their weapons, but had not
wanted to fire them. He was a good shot, but did not want to hit his own pack
by accident. Not in the darkness and commotion. That however, gave him time to
analyse the enemy. The hunters were fighting to gain their footage again but
could see very little without the light on. The wolves of the Stilinski-McCall
pack were too fast. Their own wolves were …
Stiles watched them. They were vicious and skilled. Obviously familiar with
pain, because while his pack flinched at a hit they received, healing it easily
and pushed through the lingering discomfort, these 'hunters pets' were
different. Pain beneath a certain level did not even seem to register.
Additionally, they fought with a determination that bordered on anguish. Like
they were afraid to die if they did not win. The attitude confused Stiles,
since one of his pack had yet to exercise a killing strike.
Slowly, especially considering the wounds they suffered, understanding started
to dawn in Stiles. Ever since entering this room, watching the other pack, no,
the hunters with the shifted but subdued wolves by their side, something had
demanded his attention from the back of his mind. Something that was there, but
he couldn't see clearly. Now he watched Scott aiming for a hunter, who had
clocked his gun on Isaac. Yet before he could land the strike, the werewolf who
had accompanied this hunter, he wore a collar around his neck that matched the
hunters jacked in colour, jumped between them, taking a hit that sliced his
torso open.
This was no wolf pack, aligned with hunters. These werewolves actually were
'pets'. Just like the huntress had said at the beginning. They had no Alpha
that meant, "SCOTT! THEY ARE ALL OMEGAS!"
His best friend needed barely a second to process this information. Summoning
the shift that pushed him past his beta, into his very impressive Alpha form,
he threw back his head and let out an almighty roar. After a heartbeat the
others fell in and the warehouse was filled with the deafening roar of a united
pack of werewolves.
The wolves of the hunters shifted back into their human forms. Abandoning their
'owners', cowering in the corners of the giant hall, hiding from the power of a
True Alpha.
After that it was easy for them to round up the dozen or so hunters in the
middle of the building. The last guns were taken from them and the wolves stood
guard while Stiles turned around to look at the hunter and huntress who were
slowly regaining consciousness. Realizing that they had lost, but not willing
to give up yet, the woman fought up to her feet and hissed. "This, is nothing
but a lost battle in a war you long had coming, Stilinski. I will come back,
and eradicate you and your deviant pack for what your family had done to my
best friend! Kate was doing nothing but her job. I will find other, greedy
partners to support me and there is nothing you can do. Because the moment one
of you lays hands on me, every hunter in this godforsaken country will be after
you. Not even your little renegade Argent will help you then."
Closing his hands around the shaft of the pistols he had taken, Stiles briefly
entertained the thought of putting a bullet through this insane woman's head.
So much danger, so much fear in revenge for a mad woman who had been willing
and able to hurt innocents … woman and children, because they had been
werewolves. Her partner only cared about the money. In its own, twisted way,
Stiles could even understand that. But this woman was simply crazy. Only her
death would put an end to her schemes, but if Stiles killed her, he would have
to cover it up. Most likely kill every hunter in the building and then every
wolf. And no matter how appealing this option had sounded an hour ago, faced
with all this potential bloodshed, Stiles simply couldn't do it. He let out a
huff of despair, when the lights suddenly came back and people started to spill
in.
Bouncers from clubs, barkeepers and impressive figures, loyal to the Stilinski
family was entering. There had to be at least thirty people, all armed to their
teeth, rounding up the shifted wolves and securing the humans. From their midst
Melissa and Rafael McCall approached them and Talia and Deaton were following
right behind.
Agent McCall was all business when he looked at the huntress. His next words
proved that Talia had helped him listen in on what was going on, because
despite wearing his suit, he did not seem to be here on official business.
"Maybe Mr. Stilinski can't keep you from coming after his family again. But I
certainly can. I can charge you with abduction, kidnapping of a minor …
torture. All charges that will easily put you away for life."
Struggling against his hold until Talia took the Agent's place so that he could
cuff the other hunter, the huntress shrieked, "You can't pin torture on me.
Animal abuse at best." Gesturing vaguely towards Derek, she hissed, "This
monster is not even human!"
Looking up from the man he had handcuffed on the floor, McCall straightened and
told her in a voice so cold that it made icicles run down everybody's spine,
"Just because he is a werewolf does not make him a monster."
Approaching his son, checking him over for injuries, he looked back at her, not
daring to touch Scott. Rafael was not sure that their relationship already
permitted physical contact. "But abducting teenagers, even minors and torturing
a grown man makes you one. No matter how human you look." And at that, Scott
wrapped his arms around his dad and held on to him really, really tight. He had
not even realized how very much he had missed his father helping with his
problems until Rafael had finally come around and done it. That this time it
was no stolen candy at the playground, but his calling upon all resources
available in the world Scott lived in made it all the better.
What upright agent of the law would ever work with criminals, ex-convicts and
thugs? Clearly one who was willing to go ANY length to rescue his son.
                                     ~ * ~
***** The Entire Pack *****
Allison looked around, felt the tension in the air and thought about what the
woman had said. Her collaborators were subdued. The wolves too afraid to shift,
the humans held in check by the most vicious looking associates of the
Stilinski crime family. Derek lay huddled in a corner of his torture chamber,
bloody and weak. Liam was crouched over him, ready to pounce at everybody who
even thought about harming the suffering wolf. Talia still had the struggling
huntress in a vice-grip and Deaton stood by her side. The human who had
tortured Derek lay on the floor in cuffs, too resigned to even fight.
The woman was right. This was a lost battle for her, not a won war for them.
Sure they could pin on her the abduction of the pack, kidnapping one of a
minor. But the torture … Stiles, Lydia and Allison were the only ones where any
drug would be found in their bloodstream. And they had not even suffered any
bodily harm from it. The wolves? In two days tops all visible signs of the
torture would be healed by Derek and testing the others for wolfsbane would
only endanger their secret. With a good layer, this monster would be free
within a few short years, ready to come after them again.
Approaching the man on the floor, Allison pulled back his head and asked
coldly. "What did you hope to get out of all this? And don't bother lying to
me, you know they will notice."
As if proving her point, Isaac stepped in front of them, his back to the rest
of the group, showing his claws and flashing his eyes. Immediately, the man
tried to get away from him. But Allison held him fast.
"We wanted …," he started blabbering, "She said it would be easy with the
wolves at our side. She would do her job and then we would take over your
assets, because without your guard-dogs, you would be too weak to defend your
business. She said that he would give us your accounts easily. That they had a
lot of experience with wolves and how to make them talk. That I should not
bother because he is not even human!"
The man had the presence of mind to talk at least quietly, so that the others
who were not werewolves, would not hear them. But his voice grew more and more
frantic with each sentence. He started struggling in earnest until Allison let
go of him and put her boot on his neck to keep him still. "You can't charge me
with violation of human rights. He is a beast!"
He was right, Allison realized. Charges in a court of law had to be supported
by evidence, evidence they could not provide. And the hunters council? Sure she
had abducted humans and tortured a wolf, but with a good defence she would not
be put away permanently. This would not end tonight, not if Ally did not do
anything about it. All of her associates who had supported this cruel plan were
afraid of her. Maybe Allison could give them something to be more afraid off.
She or Stiles were the only ones who could do it. And the leader of this
family, the one she had sworn to protect when accepting refuge from John, were
still standing in front of his pack, tried to be strong for them. Because no
matter how good they were holding themselves together, Ally could still see the
fear in everyone's eyes.
Closing her eyes for a second, the female hunter of the Stilinski-McCall pack,
took a deep breath and stepped back from the pathetic human on the floor. Her
words were quiet, nearly inaudible, when she commanded, "Let her go, Talia.
This is not your fight."
The Alpha of the Hale pack understood what was about to happen, the second
Allison had spoken. But instead of distancing herself from the cruel huntress
who had abducted her brother and had tortured her son, she angled the woman
towards Allison. She watched cold heartedly, as the girl took a jagged blade
from the table of torture instruments. The movement was fluid, nearly graceful
when Allison turned towards them and sliced the huntress' throat. Only then did
the Alpha of the Hale pack let go.
Allison briefly noticed Agent McCall's struggles. But Scott held on to his
father and Melissa, who had watched until now but had not intervened, stepped
into Rafael's line of sight, leaving Allison to deal with the bleeding woman.
"We hunt those who hunt us. This is the code we go by," the teenage hunter told
her victim coldly. "This goes both ways."
Letting the blade tumble to the floor, Allison watched the woman's desperate
struggles to keep the blood in her body. But Allison had learned in her young
life to cause wounds her victims would not survive. With relief that this woman
would never, ever endanger her pack again crushed over her, she started
shaking. But Stiles was there, pulling her back and into his arms, rubbing her
back comfortingly, whispering into her ear, "Good call."
                                     ~ * ~
Rafael struggled, against his wife, against his son, demanding breathlessly,
"You have to help her!"
But Melissa shook her head. The Nightingale Pledge tended to slip her mind on
the occasion of somebody hurting her children. "I'm not at work. And in my free
time, the protection of my children takes precedence above all else."
Gapping at his wife, the agent asked, "And if she was brought to your
hospital?"
Coldly the woman, who had learned over the last years to love every single
member of this family, decided, "I would take a break, just like you. Because
otherwise I would have had a much harder time convincing you to talk to our
bouncers and dealers and thugs instead of your colleagues or the local police
force because your son was missing."
"It would have taken much longer. And I might not have been able to ensure
everybody's discretion."
Allowing himself a small smile, despite having just watched his girlfriend
killing someone in cold blood, Scott hugged his father tightly. "I love you,
dad." Before briefly kissing his mother.
Sharing a look with Stiles, the leader of their family needed but a moment to
shake his head, Scott gestured for Aiden, Peter and Lydia to follow him. They
had to get rid of the humans before dealing with the werewolves. He was not
surprised to find Allison and Isaac at his side a moment later. Together they
separated humans from werewolves and while Lydia and Aiden talked to the
bouncers, Allison and Isaac cared for the hunters, leaving him and Peter with
the Omegas.
                                     ~ * ~
The hunters seemed to shrink back from Allison, no matter that she was unarmed
now. Coldly, the girl told them, "Beacon Hills is the territory of the Argent
family. My father and I have the wolves well under control."
"How can you," one of the men in front of her dared to ask. "They outnumber you
twenty to one!"
"That's right," Ally allowed herself a small smile. "But our code demands from
us that we have to hunt those who harm humans. No matter how convenient it
seems to be for you, we don't chain down well integrated members of society
just because they shift on a full moon. The Hale pack, as well as the
Stilinski-McCall pack, are respected citizens of this town. There is no need to
confine them."
"But they are mobsters. They break the law!"
Snickering, Isaac stated, "If you intend to uphold the law, you are in the
wrong business."
"What … what happens now?" Asked a frightened voice from the back. Allison
wanted to enjoy that, to savour this hunter's fear, because he had brought so
much suffering upon her family. But after a few seconds she realized that all
she felt was tired. She wanted this to be over, go home and snuggle with her
pack. So she decided, "Now you go. And if you ever set foot into Beacon Hills
again, I will kill you. Are we clear?"
"What about the wolves? They might come after us, after everything we have done
to them."
With a cold gleam in her eyes, Allison told them, "Well, as soon as they try to
harm you, feel free to hunt them down. That's your job after all. Isn't it?"
"What about weapons?"
Harshly, Allison repeated, "Go. Before I change my mind and set my boyfriend
loose on you."
Isaac growled low in his throat, flashing his blue eyes on them, successfully
rousing them into scrambling over each other to get as far away from Beacon
Hills as possible.
                                     ~ * ~
Lydia and Aiden had very little trouble with their people. Clearly each and
every one had been worried about the family and after memorizing all of their
names, Lydia and Aiden thanked them again for their support and sent them off.
They would receive generous compensation for their troubles, proving once more
that loyalty to their family came with a gain.
                                     ~ * ~
The wolves, still in their human form, were cowering at Scott's feet. The true
Alpha took his time to look at them, at their wounds, their worried stance. He
could see their bodies through the clothes they had torn during the fight and
none of them seemed unharmed. They were ridden with injuries and not only fresh
ones.
Shaking his head, Peter mumbled, "They really were nothing but pets, and the
hunters are abusive owners."
Scott had wanted to hurt them. To kill each and every one responsible for his
pack's suffering. But seeing these wolves, he realized that they had been
through enough. They had been tortured far longer and far more viciously than
even Derek. Hearing Isaac's growl, seeing the hunters fleeing the warehouse, he
came to a decision.
"You have just seen the length my girlfriend is willing to go to protect her
family. In Beacon Hills, we obey the hunters' law. Should you ever come back
here, I expect you to heed the traditions. You will introduce yourself to me
and you will not make any trouble. But for now I expect you to leave our
territory as soon as possible. We all need time to get over this."
"What about the hunters?"
Growling under his breath for a moment, Peter then answered sweetly, "They are
expected to leave as well. Maybe you want to wait for them at the other side of
our borders."
Looking from Peter to Scott again, they started to run for the door as soon as
the Alpha nodded in confirmation. With a grim satisfaction, Scott and Peter
joined their respective partners, catching up with the rest of the pack. This
was not the justice they had envisioned. This was better. Because no matter
what they could think of as punishment, what their supernatural victims would
do to these hunters would surpass their wildest ideas by far.
                                     ~ * ~
Scott was back in his mother's arms after Melissa had made sure that none of
her children were hurt. So he finally got the chance to ask, "What are you
doing here, mum? You should be at the hospital."
"I was. Actually I was in for a double shift and then I went home to sleep
before taking another. I had dinner with your father and he brought me home but
none of you where there. When you didn't answer on the coms I knew something
was wrong. So I asked Rafael to help me." Looking at her husband, he stepped
behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder, picking up her tale.
"Your mother called a few of your … ahm … business partners, but when none of
them knew where you were she introduced me to yet another werewolf." He
gestured towards Talia.
With a small smile, the Alpha of the Hale pack nodded. "Your trail was cold
already, so I went to the only person who would know for sure where you would
be. Our residing veterinarian."
"Yes," Rafael confirmed. "But how an animal doctor could find you here still is
beyond me."
Scott shared a glance with Stiles and Talia before he suggested, "You could
ask, dad. I would tell you the truth now."
Looking at his son's family, his allies and remembering the frightening people
he had managed to recruit, with Melissa's help, he thought about the offer for
a few moments before shaking his head. "I'm still FBI, Scott. I love you, and I
love your mother. But I am not yet ready to abandon my job to join a crime
family. Best if I don't know too much. I will have a hard time explaining this
body as it is."
"No, you won't." Stiles decided. "Because come morning there will be no body to
worry about. Ethan, Aiden, Peter?"
Wordlessly the three wolves picked up the bloody corpse and carried her away.
"What about the blood?"
"They will take care of it, Rafael." Melissa assured him.
"It should probably worry me, how easy you accept that your kids are covering
up a cold blooded murder." The agent stated.
Smiling mischievously, his wife took his hand. "Maybe it should worry you more
that you are 'not yet' ready to join a known crime family."
Realizing that he had said exactly that, Rafael could only gap until his wife
nudged him. "Come on, Rafael. Let's go home."
A brief flash of sadness ran over his face, too fast for most humans to pick it
up. His scent was not as easily masked when he reminded his wife, "It's not my
home."
Looking at his pack in question, smiling at them gratefully when he received a
confirmation, Scott returned his attention to his parents, telling his father
in a sure tone, "Yes, dad. It is. Let's go home."
                                     ~ * ~
A barely audible sob, followed by a distressed whine made them hesitate. But
Stiles just urged them on. "Go, I'll take care of Derek and this trash."
Liam was tempted to follow, but he took his guarding duties very seriously, so
he kept hovering at the tortured werewolf's side, despite the fact that Derek
had curled into himself after his rescue, not reacting to anything that was
happening around him. Looking up, he could see Danny in his demon form hovering
behind Stiles. When the older teenager nudged him away, Liam approached his
demon and wrapped his arm around Danny's waist, seeking comfort from his
master. For a moment the demon went stiff. But then Liam felt him exhale in
relief before Danny wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close.
Stiles took the pup's place in front of Derek. He did not touch his lover, not
willing to do a single thing Derek was not prepared for, after everything he
had been through. "It's over, Derek. You can go home." Because Stiles still had
to deal with the vermin, who had dared to lay hands on his partner.
Derek did not allow himself to flinch, and while he tried to curl into himself
even further, he could not suppress the whine that escaped him. Of course
Stiles would send him home. Of course Stiles did not want him any longer, now
that he knew that Derek had been responsible for the fire. He pulled back, when
the human at his back placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Why couldn't they
just leave him here? He could suffer through the loss and through the healing.
Gathering at least a little courage before he was forced to face the world
again.
He finally turned around, when Stiles whispered. "I know you have been through
a lot. But the others are waiting for you."
Shaking his head, unable to belief the implications of what he heard, Derek
shook his head and whispered, "You don't want that. Not after what she said."
Stiles however shook his head. "She was delusional, crazy and Ally took care of
her. You don't have to worry about her any longer. We can go home."
Closing his eyes, resting his head on his knees cowering on the floor, Derek
shook his head. He should be happy that Stiles did not believe the truth.
Should count his blessings and go home. But Derek knew that he could not do
that. Had he been able to bury the truth about his horrible betrayal before, he
could not do so again. It would hang over his head like the sword of Damocles
and sooner or later it would kill him. Or worse it would kill his pack. Derek
was the wrong person to trust and it nearly broke him, something the endless
hours of torture had not been able to achieve. He had to be the one to tell the
person he loved the most in this world about the horrible crime he had
committed against his pack.
"I can't, Stiles." He forced out. "You don't want me in your house, because I
am a danger, to you and your pack."
Shaking his head, clearly unable to understand, Stiles asked, "What makes you
say … What makes you think that, Derek?"
"Because she was right." Derek sobbed through tears, he was unable to hold back
any longer. "I was the one who followed Kate around like a besotted puppy. I
was the one who invited her into my home. I was the one who gave her not only
means but the opportunity to murder half of my family!"
It hurt. It hurt so very much to admit these things. But in a way, he was
relieved that it was all out. Now Stiles did not have to feel bad for
abandoning him. For casting him out to protect his family. It was the right
thing to do, because Derek could not survive if something happened too these
teenagers. Better to be away from them and knowing they were safe, than being a
part of this amazing pack but betraying them in the end.
Stiles was talking to him, in a remote corner of his mind that fact registered.
But Derek didn't hear him, couldn't understand because he was drowning in the
knowledge that he would never see Stiles again.
The teenager's fingers on his head, gently prompting him to look up, brought
him back to the present where his heart hurt as much as his body.
Only when he was sure that the wolf was listening, did Stiles repeat what he
had said trice already, "I know, Derek. I always knew."
Shocked, Derek gapped at the teenager. It wasn't … couldn't be true, and from
Stiles reaction he realized that he had just voiced his disbelief.
But no matter how much Stiles assured him, Derek was unable to believe, unable
to comprehend that the Don of the Stilinski family had invited someone into his
home he knew to have killed half of his pack.
                                     ~ * ~
Slowly Stiles grew a little desperate. No matter what he said, no matter how
often he assured Derek. The werewolf was unable to trust that Stiles had known
about the incident with Kate Argent.
In the end it was Danny who tipped the scale. He placed a hand on Stiles'
shoulder to back him up. Stiles shot to his feet, looking into the warm, brown
eyes of his friend. His throat constricted when he took in Danny's exhausted
but clearly human body. Searching for words but not finding any, he pulled the
taller boy into a tight hug. Pulling him as close as possible, he breathed
wetly onto a naked shoulder, "I'm so glad to have you back."
"It's okay," Danny soothed Stiles. Only now did the human let on of how very
afraid he had been for his friend. "Thank you. For … you know … keeping the
demon in line. I never thought I would say this, but I think I like having him
with me."
Rubbing his eyes for a moment, slightly embarrassed about his loss of
composure, Stiles joked, "Because that way you are everybody's type?"
Caressing his friend's face, Danny shook his head, "No, because I carried the
means to help my friend rescue our pack from their special brand of hell. And I
don't want to lose that, because I doubt that our lives will become any easier
after this."
Having one arm around his master, pulling his thrall close once again, Danny
looked down at Derek who still kneeled on the floor. "As for you, Derek Hale:
There is not a single thing about your past that I have not unearthed prior to
you joining our pack. I know where you went to elementary school, what classes
you took and what clubs you joined in high school. I know your former address
in New York and all of your business associates. I even know that you preferred
the pastrami sandwiches of the small Delhi on 9th street to the ones right
around your corner. I also knew about Kate. So, could you please believe Stiles
so that we can finally go home?"
When Derek only looked up at the trio with panicked eyes, Stiles kissed Danny
briefly with gratitude before sinking to his knees in front of his partner.
Gently he reached for his wolf's face, caressing the small parts of it that
were not battered and bruised. "Look at me, Derek. Look and listen, please."
When the werewolf nodded hesitantly, Stiles explained in a calm voice, "Your
adoration for Kate, your invitation into your house as well as the resulting
fire are, Not. Your. Fault! Do you know whose fault it was?"
With tears streaming down his face, born of the desperate hope that this would
be alright, that this was not a dream he would wake from to another round of
torture but a chance to actually be with this family, Derek shook his head.
"It was Kate's fault, Derek! Hers and nobody else's." Stiles pulled Derek
slightly and the wolf sank into his arms all too willingly, holding on to his
partner in a vice grip that tore Stiles shirt. But the teenager couldn't care
less, instead he emphasized, "I was there that night, dad took me with him. I
had to stay in the car, but I got the chance to see first-hand what this mad
woman had done to your family. When we left again it was nearly morning and I
remember that I asked my dad what would happen now. He told me that he would
hunt her down. That he would bring her to justice and her head to your mother,
so that Talia would know that her family had been avenged.
"I stayed with Scott and Melissa for two days and when dad picked me up again
he still had a fleck of her blood on his wrist. But it didn't bother me. My
parents, Melissa, school, really everybody had always told me that all life was
precious. But that night I only felt grim satisfaction that my dad had erased a
life so perverted that she would murder innocent woman and children for her own
twisted beliefs."
"You could not have been older than ten." Derek whispered in shock. Not even he
and his sisters had learned about the business of their family and what it
entailed before they had reached adulthood. Before that, they had merely been
taught to be weary and attentive because bad people were out there.
"So?" Stiles replied easily. "My mother had never hidden from me how we earned
our money and the appropriate cover story for it. How do you think was I able
to take over a crime family at eighteen?"
Derek had never thought of it. He had been too far away at John's death and
upon his return for the trade he had had other things to occupy his mind. When
Stiles pulled him to his feet, Derek pulled open a partially healed wound
again, hissing in pain. He flinched back from the wave of anger from his lover,
but Stiles only pulled him in and kissed the unbruised corner of Derek's mouth.
"Go outside and wait with the others. I will be with you in a minute."
Suddenly afraid to be away from Stiles, Derek clutched the human's hand but
pulled back after a moment. He would not act like a frightened puppy, no matter
what he had been through. Liam however didn't seem to have the same
inhibitions. He reached for Stiles' shirt, begging quietly, "Please don't leave
us."
Looking at the bastard of a hunter who still lay on the floor, Stiles tried to
free himself from Liam's vice-grip but Danny stopped him. "Get them out,
Stiles."
"But he …"
Smiling viciously, making sure that he stood at Liam's back so the boy would
not see, Danny suggested, "Molokai deserves a little bonus, don't you think? I
will make him irresistible and nature will take its course."
Looking down at the squirming man Stiles smiled coldly, nodding once, before
putting his arms around Derek's waist on one side, while Liam supported the
injured wolf from the other. He did not have to worry about a punishment
fitting the crime for Derek's torturer. Danny's magic would make him so
appealing to those around him that they would slowly forget about consent the
longer they were in his vicinity. Longer in this case meant a few hours. He
would not be able to go through a 'normal' day at work without his colleagues
taking advantage of him. Sure, Danny's magic would not last forever, but with a
little boost before conjuring it, this bastard was in for an interesting month.
Stiles decided to look for him in thirty days. A curse like this was always
renewable, so Danny could punish him again and again and again.
                                     ~ * ~
When they finally left the warehouse, the sun was slowly coming up. Upon seeing
Derek's tormented body, the pack instantly had pulled him into their midst,
leaching his pain and cleaning him up with various pieces of clothing they had
to spare.
They made their way home towards the rising sun and in a way this felt like a
new beginning. They were not alright, far from it. But during the last two
days, they had been forced to confront their deepest fears, facing things they
had not even realized they were still afraid off. But the pack, their family,
had been there when they had woken. Together, they would be able to overcome
this because nobody would switch them for their brother or throw them out in
the streets. Nobody would force them into prostitution or push them onto the
brink of suicide. The pack would always listen and never push one of them away.
No family association would oblige them to harm their own pack and no pack
member would ever think about torturing another. They were werewolves and
humans and a sex-demon, with two strong Alphas who always had their best
interest at heart at all times.
Lydia had her arms around both Aiden and Peter. Erica held Boyd close. Scott
was talking to his parents, who were holding hands, Isaac and Allison by his
side. Liam hugged Danny like a little octopus and the free arm of the demonic
teenager was wrapped around Ethan. Derek walked beside Stiles, slowly because
his injuries. This pack knew. Knew the very best and very worst about each
other, and still they were a family, strong enough to overcome everything life
threw at them.
Tentatively, Derek reached for Stiles, lacing their fingers. When he looked up,
the love in Stiles' eyes nearly blinded him and filled him with a warmth far
beyond anything he had ever experienced. When the boy slowly pulled Derek' hand
to his mouth and placed a tender kiss on his knuckles, the werewolf could only
mirror his smile, relieved that he finally had found a place that his heart
could call home.
                                     ~ * ~
End Notes
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