Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/867958.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski, Erica_Reyes/Original_Male_Character, Isaac
      Lahey/Scott_McCall
  Character:
      Original_Female_Character, Vernon_Boyd, Peter_Hale, Alan_Deaton, Sheriff
      Stilinski, Lydia_Martin, Jackson_Whittemore, Allison_Argent, Danny
      Mahealani, Coach_Finstock, Original_Male_Character(s), Chris_Argent,
      Gerard_Argent
  Additional Tags:
      Werecat_Stiles, WERECATS!_WERECATS_EVERYWHERE!, Alpha_Stiles, Alpha
      Derek, Pack_Dynamics, BAMF_Stiles, BAMF_Lydia_Martin, Knotting, Mating
      Cycles/In_Heat, light_bloodplay, Rough_Sex, In_which_stiles_has_no_shame,
      absolutely_none, Violence, Stiles_is_Not_a_Virgin, Biting, Alternate
      Universe_-_Canon, Angst, Power_Play, Stilinski_Family_Feels, Drama, some
      gore, Romance, Claiming, slight_exhibitionism, Bonding, Stiles_is_a_kinky
      motherfucker, slight_drug_usage_(though_not_your_typical_drugs), Scent
      Kink, Scent_Marking, Self-Lubrication, vague_mention_of_past_non-con,
      Underage_Drinking, and_since_apparently_it_bothers_some_people_I'll_list
      it_here_too, Top_Stiles_Stilinski, Top_Derek_Hale, because_guess_what,
      THEY_SWITCH_SOMETIMES
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-07-03 Updated: 2014-06-12 Chapters: 7/? Words: 38309
****** Surrender Self-Control ******
by sariegjazacs
Summary
     Stiles Stilinski, the Sheriff's runaway son, has returned to the
     supernatural helm that is Beacon Hills to follow a threat, armed with
     his own pack behind him. Contrary to popular belief, Stiles Stilinski
     is not the same clumsy kid that everyone remembers.
Notes
     This is a canon AU which means that everything is kind of the same,
     but with a few differences. For example, Stiles was not present at
     all for seasons one and two. Lydia has never lived nor met anyone in
     Beacon Hills. Erica and Boyd returned to Derek's pack. Jackson is now
     apart of Derek's pack. Scott joined Derek's pack permanently (my
     version of events have Scott telling Derek last minute to trust him
     before letting Derek bite Gerard, saying something along the lines of
     "I didn't tell you because I wanted to protect you" and what not).
     Other than those, everything else is still relatively the same.
     Jackson was the Kanima but is now a werewolf (and has NOT moved to
     London, tyvm). Derek lives in his fancy ass loft now. THERE IS NO
     ALPHA PACK IN THIS STORY.
     This is unbeta'ed. I apologize for any errors.
     Disclaimer: Aside from the plot and the original characters that I
     mention, I do not own anything.
***** Disturbance *****
Stiles looked down onto the small town of Beacon Hills, buildings lit up under
the bright light of the half moon. Nostalgia crept into the back of his mind,
and he suppressed a shudder at the feelings that swooped back into his heart.
He breathed in deep and exhaled, shaking his head. He didn't come here for a
walk down memory lane. He was older now, stronger...the past was the past.
Stiles was different in more ways than one now, and he wasn't going to look
back.
"You don't have to do this, you know."
He tilted his head back, eyeing his pack with an amused smirk, "Uh yeah, I
kinda do. But thanks for the attempt to console me, Lyds...even if there wasn't
anything to console me for."
The beta in question scowled at him, crossing her arms over her petite frame
and flipping her copper colored hair over her shoulder, "Forgive me for trying
to be considerate for once." she muttered.
Stiles offered her a genuine smile this time, "I appreciate your concern, Lyds,
I do," he said softly, turning to face her, "I guess I just never thought I'd
have to come back to this cow town. But you and I both know that I have to."
Lydia eyed him intently for a moment and let out a put-upon sigh, "Whatever."
Her eyes gave away her calm acceptance however, and with that, Stiles put a
grin back on his face.
He faced the city again, his eyes now rimmed black and irises bright red, "Now
let's get on with it...we don't want the wolves to come out to play." he
purred, before crouching down onto all fours and tearing down the terrain, his
pack following closely behind.
 
                                     -x-x-
 
"They're calling it another mountain lion attack...John, I swear, we really
need to get animal control for this crap..." One of the deputies grumbled at
his spot next to the Sheriff. John Stilinski surveyed the scene; arms crossed
and stern look on his face. The deputy was right to be concerned...this was the
third kill this week, and the locations were inching further and further into
town. The kills were gruesome, chests ripped into ribbons, limbs torn and faces
barely recognizable.
What worried the Sheriff was the fact that these were supposedly animal
attacks...mountain lion attacks. While yes, cougars were prevalent in the area,
rarely did they ever leave the forest, and rarely did they ever lash out at
humans unprovoked. There must be something in the water…but he couldn’t be
sure.
“Do you have everything under control here? I need to go somewhere and
hopefully find some answers.” John asked, turning to his deputy. The deputy
nodded his affirmative and the Sheriff took his leave. Upon entering his car,
he looked up and noticed two bright red eyes staring back at him from behind a
few shrubs a couple of meters away.
The Sheriff blinked, and in a flash, they were gone.
“What the hell…” He muttered quietly, and then quickly closed the car door and
fished his cell phone out. He dialed a familiar number and pressed the speaker
to his ear.
“Hello?”
“Alan, it’s John. I need to speak with you…are you still at the…?
“Well I just closed but I’m still here. Is this about the animal attacks?”
“You heard?”
“News spreads like wildfire here, Sheriff, especially those involving murder.”
John sighed, starting the car and backing up, “I suppose that’s reasonable.
Look, I’ll be there in about five minutes.”
“I’ll be here.”
Back at the animal hospital, Deaton hung up the phone and stared at it
solemnly. He turned to face Scott, who looked both anxious and determined,
“Something’s up, huh?” he asked.
Deaton raised an eyebrow, “Do you really need to ask?” he mused, placing his
phone back in his coat pocket, “After the Sheriff leaves, you should call
Derek. I would assume that he would want to know about all of this, if he
doesn’t already.”
“But what if they actually are animal attacks?”
With a chuckle, Deaton replied, “Son, when has anything here ever truly been a
simple animal attack?”
Scott pursed his lips in reply.
The knock was heard on the front door, where the sign had been flipped to say
‘CLOSED’. Scott left to get the door, and quickly came back with the Sheriff in
tow.
“The third one this week, isn’t it?” Deaton asked, putting his hands in his
pockets.
The Sheriff nodded, then turned to Scott, “Could you wait outside? I’d like to
talk to Deaton alone.” He requested as politely as he could with how stressed
he was.
Scott shared a look with Deaton before nodding at the Sheriff and exiting the
room.
“What do you think is happening, Sheriff?” Deaton asked, turning back towards
John with a calm expression.
John rubbed a hand over his head, looking exhausted, “I—I honestly have no
idea,” he groaned, “These attacks...you know better than I do that this is just
too much for a mountain lion. Not the attacks themselves, but the way they’re
being done. I’ve never seen a mountain lion do this.”
The vet nodded, “You are correct in that sense, Sheriff. It is definitely not
normal for mountain lions to leave their natural habitat, let alone go out of
their way to attack humans.” He concurred, “Do you have any theories?”
“I’m thinking that there’s something in the water,” The Sheriff stressed, “I
don’t know what else to think. Alan, I don’t want my neighbors to be terrified
of going out at night! I just—what do I say?”
Deaton placed a placating hand on John’s shoulder, a sad smile on his face,
“Protect your people, John. Tell them to be aware of these attacks and to take
precautions. That’s all you can do until you figure out what is going on.”
The Sheriff exhaled and nodded, and then suddenly froze as he caught sight of a
photograph on the counter behind Deaton.
Furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, Deaton turned and saw the framed
photograph of the Sheriff’s wayward son and Scott, both only six years old at
the time, smiling brightly with their arms over each other’s shoulders.
The vet turned back around and felt his heart ache at the broken expression on
the Sheriff's face. “Scott keeps it here as a reminder,” Deaton explained
quietly, “He hasn’t given up on your son, Sheriff, and I know you haven’t
either…he’ll come back.”
Sighing, the Sheriff nodded, “I hope so.”
Outside, Scott leaned close to the door and listened in, feeling his fists
clench at the mention of his best friend. Six years Stiles has been gone and
still Scott refused to believe that Stiles would just leave them all without a
word or, even worse, that he was dead.
The lowered gate creaked open and Scott immediately readjusted his posture as
the Sheriff exited the building. He looked to Scott and nodded his farewell as
he headed towards his car with slumped shoulders.
Watching the patrol car drive off, Scott pulled his phone out and pushed a
number on speed dial, pressing the device to his ear.
“Scott.”
“Derek, hey, something’s up—“
“I know. Where are you?”
“I’m at Deaton’s. The Sheriff just left…they think it’s an animal attack.”
“It’s not.”
“Yeah, no shit Derek. Look, I’m heading over to your place—“
“No, not yet. I’ll call a pack meeting tomorrow at Deaton’s. We need to learn
more about what we’re dealing with. It’s late and—jesus, we all just finished
dealing with the Kanima, Scott. Give it a night’s rest and then we’ll get to
business.”
Scott nodded in understanding, “Okay.”
“Let the pack know tomorrow at school. I’ll call when I have a time figured
out.”
“Got it.”
 
                                     -x-x-
                                        
“You’ve got to be kidding me. Already?”
“Unfortunately,” Scott sighed, looking at Isaac with tired eyes.
Isaac threw his hands up; “I mean honestly, does nothing stay normal in this
town?”
Scott raised an eyebrow at Isaac and chuckled, “I find it funny that it’s you
saying that.”
The beta glared playfully, “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah I know,” Scott joked, pushing Isaac’s shoulder and opening his locker.
His grin fell slightly as he looked at the picture he had hanging up in his
locker. Ten-year-old Stiles and himself, dirty and muddy after a game of
lacrosse with huge grins on their faces. That was almost exactly a year before
Stiles ran away.
Isaac followed his gaze and his expression softened. He never really knew
Stiles (hell, he didn’t even know Scott back then), but whenever he saw him,
Stiles had always had the same goofy grin on his face, always mirrored by
Scott.
He hated that it affected Scott so intensely whenever his name or image popped
up. Over the last couple of weeks, Isaac had gotten closer to Scott to the
point of feeling protective of the other. He’d like to think that Scott felt
the same way about him.
Scott was always there for him, so Isaac would always be there for Scott.
The boy in question was startled when Allison walked up, looking a little
awkward but determined, “Hey…I heard about last night. My dad said that he went
to Derek’s earlier but he wasn’t there. What’s going on?”
“It wasn’t Derek, or any of us,” Scott replied, almost indignantly.
“I’m not saying that it was you or Derek or anyone, I just want to know what’s
going on.” Allison replied, looking and sounding almost as indignant as Scott
was.
Scott exhaled and scrubbed a hand over his face, “Look, I have no idea, okay?
No one does. Obviously it’s not just an animal attack. Derek’s having a pack
meeting later today, so that’s probably why he’s not at his house.”
Allison nodded, “Well, I’m coming to this meeting too, then.”
“No, you’re not,” Isaac interjected, sounding irritated, “It’s a pack meeting.
You are not pack, therefore you are not invited.”
Allison looked offended, and Scott looked over his shoulder at Isaac before
turning back to Allison, “I’m sorry, but he’s right. Derek only wants the pack
to attend and I don’t want to push right now. Please Allison. I promise I’ll
tell you when I find out what’s going on.” He pleaded.
The hunter huffed quietly, “Fine. Whatever. I need to get to class...I’ll see
you at lunch, I guess.”
Before either one of the boys could say another word, the girl stalked off.
Isaac raised an eyebrow, “I thought you said that the break-up was amicable?”
Scott pulled his Economics book out and closed his locker by leaning on it, “I
thought so, too.”
“When is any break-up amicable?”
The two betas looked up to see Erica, Jackson, and Boyd walk up. Erica, who had
spoken, smirked, “It’s what you get for dating a hunter anyway.”
Scott glared at her, but it was Boyd’s firm nudge that shut her up.
“So when’s the pack meeting?” The dark skinned wolf asked. Scott shrugged,
waving his phone, “I’m not sure. I’m still waiting for Derek to text or call me
with details.”
“We have lacrosse practice after school, Scott. I’m not going to miss it, and
neither are you or Isaac.” Jackson stated firmly, crossing his arms.
“People are getting murdered and you care about lacrosse?” Isaac asked
incredulously.
Jackson glared at him, “I already missed too much, okay? I was a fucking lizard
for nearly a month! Shit, people even thought that I was dead! Excuse me for
wanting some kind of normalcy in this fucked up life.”
Isaac held his hands up in surrender and Scott nodded, “He’s right, we should
go to practice…if anything, just to take our mind off things. I’ll text Derek
later.”
A sudden unfamiliar scent caught the noses of the teenage werewolves, and they
simultaneously turned their heads down the hallway.
Three students, none of which any of them recognized, marched down and passed
the group in what almost seemed like slow motion. There was a_guy with coiffed
ebony hair and striking green eyes, who walked with an air of cockiness that
rivaled Derek’s back when he had been forming his pack, his backpack slung over
his shoulder. Next to him was a young_brunette_girl with demure blue-green
eyes; her hands clasped together and long hair billowing behind her.
Leading the group was a petite, auburn-headed girl who strutted in red
stilettos_to_match_the_paint_on_her_lips. Her calculating hazel eyes scanned
the crowd in front of her before they landed on Scott and his group. She
smirked and gave a little wink before passing them.
The entire group’s eyes and noses followed them down the hall as they made a
left into the registrar’s office, likely to receive their schedules.
“Did you smell that?” Erica mumbled, still looking in the direction that they
went.
Scott nodded, just as intrigued as everyone else was, “It didn’t smell like
wolf, though.”
“But it didn’t smell human, either.” Boyd murmured, giving Scott a look.
Scott nodded and whipped his phone out, sending a quick text to Derek:
To: D 7:12:47am
  new kids @ school. smell different. not wolf tho. what do we do?
An answer came in seconds in a few short bursts.
From: D 7:13:02am
 Follow them. Find out more about them.

Pack meeting at 6 at Deaton’s.

Be careful.
 
                                     -x-x-
Scott took his seat next to Isaac in Economics just as the bell rang.
“Alright so we have two new students! Welcome to the hellhole that is high
school, kiddies!” Finstock’s voice boomed out.
Both Isaac's and Scott’s heads shot up as the same peculiar scent from earlier
wafted by again. There, in front of the classroom, stood the raven-haired guy
and the brunette girl from earlier. The guy had a smirk pasted on his face and
a hand in his black jean pocket while the girl next to him was clutching her
Economics textbook close to her chest with a calm expression upon her face.
Coach Finstock gestured to boy, “This is Miles Fazzino, and he just joined
lacrosse too! I’ll see your ass on the field! You better be good.” he bellowed,
slapping the guy on the back.
Miles gave a small chuckle in response and Scott could’ve sworn that he heard a
couple girls swoon. He and Isaac shared a look. Apparently they’d be seeing him
later after school...it'd be a good time to find out more about him.
“And this young woman is…” Finstock squinted at the clipboard in his hand,
looking confused, “Elle Krushchev. Huh…any relation to the Communist leader?”
He gave a rusty laugh afterward and looked around, expecting everyone else to
laugh with him. However, the laugh soon died off when no one else followed. He
frowned and rolled his eyes, “Figures that you guys would forget all that over
the summer. Whatever. You two go find a seat somewhere.”
The only empty seats included one right in front of Isaac, and another right
behind Scott, so Elle primly took the first seat while Miles plopped into the
second.
“So to begin the day, we’re going to start with everyone’s favorite thing…”
Coach began, turning to get something from his desk, and then jumping back
around with sadistic glee, “…NOTES!”
The class simultaneously groaned.
Finstock scoffed and began handing out papers, “Oh shut up, you all love these
things! It’s not like any of you actually read your books anyway…”
Scott turned to hand the last paper to Miles behind him, taking the moment to
look at him clearly. Miles took the paper and raised his eyebrows at Scott
quickly in a greeting, grinning mischievously. Scott turned back around again,
feeling uneasy.
Isaac watched the exchange, and as he looked back at the girl in front of him,
decided to have one of his own. He thought about what he would do to catch
Elle’s attention, and concluded that dropping his pen purposely in her space
and asking her to retrieve it would be innocent enough.
He flicked his pen off the desk, and just when he was about to lurch forward to
pretend like it was an accident, a hand was in front of his face.
A hand, with fingernails perfectly manicured, was in front of his face,
clutching his pen. Isaac looked up and met Elle’s deep blue-green eyes. Her
freckled nose was wrinkled slightly in amusement and her eyes sparkled. Pale
pink lips twitched slightly, and she whispered softly with a light Russian
accent, “Is this yours?”
Befuddled, Isaac nodded dumbly, “I—yeah, sorry…about that…” he muttered, slowly
plucking his pen out of her hand. With that, she turned back around, her smooth
hair swaying behind her.
She was fast. How did...when did...?
Scott heard a snicker behind him, and turned slightly to see Miles covering his
mouth with his hand, looking thoroughly entertained with the ordeal.
The two beta wolves looked at each other in mutual interest and anxiety. Who
were these guys?
At lunch, Isaac relayed the entire story to the rest of the pack (excluding
Allison, who apparently got lunch detention for something).
Boyd nodded, “Something’s definitely up with them…Jackson and I had that red
head in our AP Bio class. Name’s Lydia Martin. She's smart. Just an hour in
class and I think Mr. Harris is in love with the girl.” He shared, stabbing at
his mac’n’cheese with his fork.
“I think she’s pretty hot.” Jackson mused, giving everyone a confused look when
they glared at him, “What? Hey, c’mon, if I can get close to her, I can learn
more about her. It’s a win-win!”
“Yeah, for you. I’ll die laughing when she kills you with your cock still
hard.” Erica quipped naughtily.
The group laughed as Jackson sputtered in resentment, but soon quieted down as
the trio they had been talking about suddenly appeared, trays in hand. They
passed their table and chose an empty one on the far side of the room away from
everyone else.
Erica tore her gaze away first, “Okay really, I’m this close to just marching
over there and asking what the hell they are.” She hissed between clenched
teeth.
“No,” Scott interjected, “Derek just said to follow them and try to learn more
about them, not provoke them.”
“How would that be provoking them? It’s an innocent question.”
“No, it’s not, Erica. Just don’t.” Scott ordered quietly. Erica curled her lip
at being ordered to do something by someone other than her alpha, and Scott
narrowed his eyes at her, daring her to do something.
The staring contest was interrupted when Isaac tapped Scott’s shoulder, “Guys,
guys stop…I think they can hear us.” He whispered.
The group turned around and lo and behold, the troublesome trio was staring
right at them. Scott gripped the table, returning their intense gaze along with
everyone else sitting with them.
The red head, Lydia, said something (Scott hadn’t been focusing on her so he
didn’t hear her) and the three raised a hand and waved with small smiles,
almost mockingly. Scott faintly heard Isaac growl and he gripped his arm,
keeping the other beta anchored down.
Miles laughed lightly, and with that, the three turned their attention away
from them and back to each other, starting a conversation with one another as
if nothing had happened.
Boyd broke the tense silence, “What do you think they want?” he asked in a low
voice.
Scott breathed deeply, just now noticing how fast his heart had been beating,
“…I don’t know.”
***** Revelation *****
Chapter Notes
     For future reference and Fun Facts:
     1. Cougars/Mountain Lions are the largest species of cat that can
     purr. The feline rule of thumb basically is that if it can roar, it
     cannot purr and vice versa. HOWEVER, for the sake of the storyline,
     lets say that werecats are an exception and can purr and roar no
     matter what species they happen to be. Okay? Okay.
     2. The term 'pack' normally refers to canines. However, I'm going to
     continue using it because there are going to be many different types
     of cats in one group. For example, a group of lions are called a
     'pride', and a group of tigers are called a 'streak'. Because they'll
     all be mixed together and what not, I'm going to generalize and just
     call them a pack.
      
     This is unbeta'ed. I apologize for any errors.
     Disclaimer: Aside from the plot and the original characters that I
     mention, I do not own anything.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Scott, Isaac and Jackson rushed into the locker room, not wanting to get
berated by Coach again for being five minutes late. Thankfully, it appeared
that the Coach wasn’t even in the room yet, so the three hurriedly opened their
lockers to get changed.
“Hey,” Danny spoke up, glancing at them, “Did you hear? Apparently the new kid
is taking Matt’s old position.”
Jackson’s head shot up, looking bewildered, “Midfield? Coach is giving him
midfield already?”
“That’s suicide…” Isaac mumbled, “Newbies usually start out on defense…poor
guy’s gonna get killed.”
Danny shrugged and turned back around. Scott glanced in his direction and
pulled his jersey on, “The fact that he doesn’t seem to be human might help
him, though.” He mumbled under his breath.
Isaac turned to him and gave him a look and Scott brushed it off with a frown.
The office door busted open and Finstock walked out, Miles in tow, with a hand
on his shoulder. “Alright losers! This is Miles Fazzino, your new midfield
teammate!” he hollered, shaking Miles shoulder, “Treat him with just as much
respect…” the Coach gave a dramatic breath, “…that I would show you.”
Danny snorted and Jackson rolled his eyes at the comment.
Coach Finstock turned to Miles, handing him a lock, uniform, and lacrosse
stick, “You better be good, kid.” He warned, staring at him intensely.
Miles didn’t even look fazed at the words. He smirked and looked down at the
supplies in his hands before looking back up, eyes sparkling, “You don’t have
to worry about me, Coach, trust me,” He insisted, “I’m far above good.”
The Coach grinned and slapped Miles shoulder, shaking it roughly, “Now that’s
the kind of confidence I like! Make sure you live up to those words, Fazzino.
You’re locker 82.”
Miles nodded and headed over to said locker, which happened to be right next to
Danny and Isaac and across the isle from Scott and Jackson.
“So,” Danny started once he had put his jersey on and turned to Miles, who was
working on unbuttoning his shirt, “I assume that from those confident words
that you’ve played lacrosse before.”
Miles looked up at Danny and grinned, pulling the over-shirt off, “No,
actually, I’ve never played,” he replied, his voice modulated yet slightly
honeyed. He tugged his undershirt off, adding, “We don’t play much lacrosse
where I come from.”
“Uh, not to be rude, but if you’re playing midfield and you’ve never played
lacrosse before—”
“I should be horrible, right?” Miles cut in, raising an eyebrow. He grinned, “I
adapt well. Don’t be afraid for me…I’m not.”
Danny huffed out an incredulous laugh, “Yeah, okay.”
Scott found himself constantly glancing back and listening in on their
conversation. Just then, he noticed a raised mark on the upper left corner of
Miles’ back. It looked like some kind of symbol…a tattoo or brand of some kind.
Quickly, Scott whipped his phone out and texted Isaac, who was still next to
Miles, where the latter was still in a conversation with Danny.
To: Isaac 3:45:23pm
  hey. miles has a tattoo or something on his back. take a picture really
quick, ur closer than i am.
Isaac checked his phone once it buzzed, and he looked up at Scott, who nodded
emphatically. Taking a breath, Isaac secretly held his phone up to where Miles’
back was facing away from him and quickly snapped a photo just before the boy
slipped his jersey on.
Finstock suddenly reappeared from his office, “Okay, c’mon, lets head outside!
I wanna see what this new kid is made of!” he shouted, ushering everyone out of
the locker room.
Scott, Isaac and Jackson let Miles and the others leave first. Jackson turned
to the other two, “Okay…what was that all about? What did Isaac take a picture
of?” he asked.
Isaac held up his phone, which still had the picture on it, “It’s some kind of
tattoo.” He replied.
“It doesn’t look like your normal tattoo, though…it looks like a brand almost.”
Scott added in, taking a closer look.
“And what if it’s just a normal tattoo or something? Everyone’s getting one
around this time.” Jackson wondered, eyebrows furrowing as he started at the
photo.
“Yeah, but this guy seems nothing close to normal…I’ve got to assume that
everything else about him isn’t either.” Scott reasoned, “Better to be safe
than sorry.”
“MCCALL. LAHEY. WHITTEMORE. Get your asses out here!”
The three jumped at Finstock’s booming voice and quickly made their way outside
and onto the field.
After being split into two teams, Scott found himself on the opposite team with
Isaac on his side and Jackson on Miles’. As they got ready to start, Scott
looked up through his headgear and made eye contact with Miles, whose face was
just a few inches away from his, ready to take the ball.
Miles stared back at him, and a feral grin took over his face. To Scott’s
surprise, his eyes shifted from it’s usual green to an intense yellow. The beta
wolf would’ve mistaken the other for a wolf if the waterline and rim of Miles’
eyes hadn’t changed to a deep black. The eyes themselves didn’t really look
like wolf either…they looked almost, dare he say it…cat-like.
The sound of a whistle blowing startled Scott out of his thoughts and suddenly
Miles wasn’t in front of him anymore. He whipped around and watched as Miles
effortlessly weaved through the opposite team, leaping over them and easily
scored a goal.
“YES! Woohoo! That is what I’m talking about!” Finstock whooped, looking as
excited as a child at Disneyland.
Jackson, despite technically being on Miles’ team, looked bewildered at what
had just happened. Isaac’s expression was scrunched in a similar state of awe.
Scott didn’t doubt that his own face looked any different.
Another round passed and once again, Miles displayed almost professional
lacrosse skills, leaping and weaving through the opposite team with ease. At
one point, Isaac attempted to block Miles before having the wind completely
knocked out of him as Miles barreled straight into him, knocking the beta on
his back, and scored another goal.
“Isaac!” Scott cried, rushing over to his fallen pack member. He dropped down
to his knees and pulled his helmet off, hands fluttering all over Isaac,
“Isaac, holy crap, are you okay?” Scott heard Jackson drop down next to him,
but his eyes didn’t leave Isaac.
Isaac gasped for air; making pained wheezing noises and was unable to respond.
Finstock jogged over and took one look at him, “Ah, it’s probably just a hard
hit. Let Lahey over here take a break. McCall, go heave him over to the bench,
will you? Whittemore, go help.”
The two betas heaved their pack member over to the bench. Just as they set him
down, Scott caught a familiar smell and he turned around, noticing Derek
standing just behind the bleachers. He turned to Jackson, who simply nodded,
“You go talk to him, I’ll watch Isaac.” He mumbled, grabbing an already filled
cup of water from the table nearby and trying to get Isaac to drink.
With that, Scott left the other two and headed towards Derek.
“Hey, how long have you been here?” he asked, looking up at the Alpha, who was
wearing his trademark frown.
“Just since school got out. After your text, I got curious.” Derek muttered,
wrinkling his nose, “I could smell him before you all even came out here.”
“Do you know what he is?”
“Not wolf, that’s for sure,” Derek sighed, crossing his arms, “The smell, it’s
familiar but very distant. I know I’ve smelled it before but it’s been a
while…I can’t identify it.”
Scott shrugged, “Maybe Peter might know?”
Derek glared, “I’d rather not someone I don’t trust.”
The beta huffed, “Yeah well I don’t want to either, but he’s the oldest out of
all of us. He might know what we’re dealing with.”
Scrubbing a hand over his face, Derek replied, “Maybe…we’ll see. He’ll be at
the pack meeting tonight, so we’ll find out then.”
On the opposite side of the field near the bleachers, Miles listened in,
smirking to himself. He opened his bag and pulled out his phone, quickly
sending a text.
To: Tigger 4:21:39
  the pups are catching on. probably going to know about us by nightfall. when
can we start having fun?
An answer came rather quickly, and Miles chuckled as he read it.
From: Tigger 4:22:03
  I would’ve thought that you were having fun already! But in that case…after
you’re done with practice, bring Puma and Duma over.

Aslan and I have something fun planned. ;)
Miles felt his body tingle in excitement.
                                     -x-x-
Jackson held Isaac’s arm over his shoulder and helped him into the animal
clinic with Scott holding the door open. Upon seeing them arrive, Erica’s eyes
widened and she rushed over, “What the hell happened?” she whispered tautly.
“Took a hard hit from Miles, one of those freaks,” Isaac replied, wincing a
little as he strained a little when trying to turn to her. Derek walked up to
Isaac and unceremoniously lifted Isaac’s henley up, eyeing the ugly bruise on
the beta’s lower stomach that was just starting to turn purple.
Boyd, who had followed Derek, looked on with worried eyes, “Why isn’t he
healing?”
Derek had a deep frown on his face and didn’t answer, which was basically a
silent way of saying ‘I don’t know’.
Deaton poked his head into the room from the examination area, “Well, since
mostly everyone is here, would you like to get started?” he asked.
Scott looked confused, “Mostly?”
“Peter’s not here.” Derek answered shortly, still glaring at the bruise, “I’m
not surprised nor do I care.” He put Isaac’s shirt back down and motioned
towards the examination room, “Let’s get started.”
Almost immediately upon entering the examination room, the betas scrunched
their noses up at the stench of dead flesh. Their eyes were drawn to the male
corpse lying in front of them, a sheet covering him from the neck down.
Deaton, after slipping on some latex gloves, answered their silent question
before anyone could ask, “I needed to examine a body myself in order to help
come up with any results, but I don’t have the access to the morgue in the
hospital. So Derek just, well, took one for me during their night hours.”
Scott side-eyed Derek, “You really want to get arrested again, don’t you?”
“Shut up.”
“Anyway,” Deaton continued, reaching over and pulling the sheet down to the
corpse’s waist. He pointed to the deep gashes along the stomach and chest area,
“These wounds were cut cleanly with precise accuracy. Judging by the scabbing
on these as opposed to the others, these were inflicted first.”
“Whatever did this killed this man instantly with the first strike. The rest of
these wounds—“ Deaton pointed to the missing right arm from the elbow down, a
missing left hand, and a missing left leg from the mid-thigh down, “were
basically unnecessary. Unless, of course—“
“Someone was trying to send a message.” Derek finished, looking over the body.
Deaton nodded, “Yes, that is correct.” He too looked down at the body with a
solemn look, “That isn’t what’s alarming about this situation, however.”
Scott looked confused, “What do you mean?”
“You see these wounds?” Deaton pointed out the chest and stomach wounds again,
“They’re grouped together in fours. Four slices each strike. Like—“
“Claws…” Scott whispered. He looked to Derek, “Is it—“
“No,” Derek answered immediately, “I would’ve sensed it if another pack came
even close to the border of the town. Besides that, this doesn’t smell like a
wolf. It’s similar to the scent of that boy you had practice with
but…different.”
“It’s not from a wolf,” Deaton interjected, “Its from a—“
The front door dinged open and Peter walked in, holding his hands up, “Sorry
I’m late!” he called, not actually sounding sorry at all, “I got a little
caught up and—“ He paused once he entered the examination room, sniffed, and
his eyes widened almost comically, “Why the hell does it smell like werecat in
here?”
Somewhere, a couple meters away, two figures rested on their haunches in the
trees, listening in.
“Well. It seems that the older Hale knows of our kind.” One said, their
effervescent cyan eyes bright in the evening atmosphere as they used their keen
vision to peek into the clinic.
The other figure, with eyes matching the one beside him, hummed, “It’s not like
we’re an underground species, Lyds. The Hale is older and has probably
encountered one of us before…it’s not a surprise.” He answered with a smooth
English accent.
“Do you think that they could really help us find the others?”
“That is what our dear Stiles believes.”
“I don’t like clinging to dogs for help, Bas. We can do this ourselves.”
The male turned to face Lydia, looking serious, “And have territorial wolves on
our asses? I dislike wolves just as much as you do, but you and I both know
that it is better to have them with us then against us. Not because we couldn’t
handle them, but because they’d simply get in the way.”
He shrugged, turning back to the window, “Also, it could be a little helpful to
have a little less bark and more bite on our side. Lord knows that you could
use it.”
A growl to his right made his lips quirk up, “Put your claws away, kitty. I’m
only kidding.”
“I hate you, Sebastian.”
“So you’ve said, love…so you’ve said.”
Back inside the animal clinic, everyone except Deaton turned to Peter with
puzzled eyes.
“Were…cats…?” Jackson annunciated slowly, as if he was tasting the word on his
tongue, “As in…Thundercat kind of werecats?”
“No, I mean as in I’ll-scratch-your-fucking-face-off-if-you-piss-me-off
werecats,” Peter snapped, looking uncharastically nervous.
Derek stared at his uncle hard, “How do you know?”
Peter huffed, “A couple years ago, just after you were born actually, there was
a territory dispute between our pack and a werecat pack.” He answered,
“Thankfully it didn’t last long as your mother, our former alpha and compromise
extraordinaire, managed to talk them out of taking our territory and into
leaving up north.”
The older beta shuddered slightly, “I’ve never liked them. Wolves are
territorial but they’re that tenfold. They’re conniving little things that I’d
rather not have to mess with.”
“Well, it appears that you’ll have to, if you wish to find out who did this,”
Deaton sighed wearily, “Peter is right…these were in fact inflicted by a
werecat. This was one of the most recent victims killed fresh from last
night…luckily, I got to examine it first and found this—“ he held up a baggy
that had a few tufts of hair inside, “before anyone else could.”
The vet looked at the baggy, “These are hairs only found on werecats, as they
contain both human and feline DNA. Had the coroners picked up on this, they
would’ve thought that a new species was out in the open.”
Scott shrugged helplessly, “So what do we do? How do we catch a werecat?”
“Werecats, actually.”
Everyone in the room turned to face Deaton, who put the baggy down.
“This body had traces of more than one werecat. Three, if I counted correctly.”
“Oh well, that’s just great,” Erica growled, crossing her arms.
“Does any of this explain why I’m not healing as fast, though?” Isaac asked,
wincing as his fingers fluttered over the bruise on his abdomen.
“Werecats are unique in the fact that they come in many different breeds per
pack. Of course, wolves do too, but we stay relatively the same size and have
the same potential to grow into our abilities.” Peter explained, “Werecats,
however, become as strong as their breed allows. In some situations, a beta can
be stronger than their alpha depending on their breed. So, in regards to your
little boo-boo there—“ he pointed to Isaac’s abdomen, “you must’ve been hit by
a pretty big cat…one that, alone at least, could easily take down a wolf. Give
it about a day and you should be fine.”
Jackson scoffed, “Big cats? Please. I can take down a little kitten with ease.”
Peter raised an eyebrow, looking both annoyed and amused, “I don’t doubt that
you could, Jackson, but these aren’t your typical domesticated housecat. Tell
me, are you really prepared to take down, oh I don’t know, a lion? Or a tiger?”
“Lions?” Boyd parroted in surprise.
“Tigers?” Scott exclaimed, looking panicked.
“You all need to be careful,” Deaton interjected before the rest of the pack
could break into hysterics, “I’ve encountered werecats several times in the
past, especially during my trips to South Africa and Europe, where they are
most prevalent.”
“Their claws are their main weapons of choice. I don’t want you to
underestimate them. They have a venom of sorts that seeps from their claws…its
similar to the Kanima but not quite. Once in the bloodstream, it causes
excruciating pain, just enough to incapacitate their prey and kill. Trust me,”
Deaton slipped his right arm out of his coat, showing the long, ugly scar from
his shoulder to just above his elbow, “I know from experience.”
Derek didn’t seem all that impressed, “They’re big cats with poisonous claws.
Somehow I feel like we’ve dealt with worse. It’s not something that we
shouldn’t be able to handle.” He said.
“Famous last words,” Isaac mumbled, choosing to ignore the glare Derek sent his
way.
Just then, Scott remembered about the tattoo. “Oh hey, show him the tattoo
thing we saw!” he said, looking to Isaac, who nodded and pulled out his phone.
He opened the picture and showed it to Deaton, who took the phone and nodded.
“It’s Celtic,” he explained, “It’s similar to a triskelion in the sense that it
can mean many things, though I assume it means the same to them as it does to
all of you: alpha, beta, and omega.”
“This is a very ancient symbol and the fact that one of them has this means
that the rest should as well. It’s a symbol of power and unity.” Deaton looked
to Derek, “This pack obviously has very prominent lines to the ancient ones.
They are likely very powerful and—“
Scott jumped when his phone suddenly started ringing, and he scrambled for his
phone, apologizing to Derek who was glaring at him for interrupting the
meeting. Once he hand his phone, he furrowed his eyebrows as he read the
unknown number on the screen and hesitantly answered it.
“Hello?”
“Your alpha’s very confident, isn’t he?”
Scott froze like a rock, eyes wide as he looked straight up at Derek, who’s
glare now turned to alarm, obviously having heard what was just said.
“W-Who is this?” Scott asked shakily. He recognized the voice from somewhere,
but he couldn’t quite place it.
The man on the other side laughed lightly, “That’s not important right now,
Scotty. I just called because I’d like to talk to you, alone though, if that’s
okay.”
“Um, I-I’m alone, you can talk.”
“No you’re not. Scott, I’ve been keeping an eye on you for a little while now,
please don’t play dumb. I just want to talk.”
Scott looked up at everyone else, whose postures were all tense.
“Alright, how about this. Two of my friends are outside waiting for you. If you
go out there now, they’ll take you to me so we can talk alone. I promise that
they won’t hurt you, nor will I.”
The beta looked to Derek for confirmation. The alpha was on his phone, typing
something furiously, and within a few seconds, Scott’s phone buzzed with a new
text.
From: D 6:57:14pm
  Go. We have your back. You won’t be alone with him. Go.
“Okay…okay, I’m going outside now.” Scott replied unsteadily, moving past Isaac
and Boyd and out of the examination room. Pushing the entrance open, he stepped
out, “I’m here.”
“Good. My friends should be there about now…just follow their lead.”
The line clicked. Scott looked down at his phone, and once he looked back up,
he stepped back in surprise as two individuals were suddenly in front of him.
There was the girl from school, Lydia Martin, as Boyd called her, and another
slightly older guy that Scott had never seen nor met before.
The man, with long blonde hair and wearing a charcoal colored coat, smiled, and
if Scott weren’t so wary right now he would’ve thought that it looked genuine.
“Hi there, Scott,” He spoke with an English accent, “I’m Sebastian, and I
assume that you’ve already met or at least know of the lovely lady to my left.”
Lydia huffed, but otherwise didn’t reply as she walked away.
“Come,” Sebastian said, turning to face the_car that Lydia walked towards, “He
isn’t far from here.”
Scott nervously glanced back at the animal clinic, before gathering some
courage and following the werecat.
                                     -x-x-
Scott felt awkward and anxious as he sat in the backseat of the sports car,
watching the trees zip by. Luckily, it appeared that this was a back road, so
no one, not even cops, were present.
Lucky, right, Scott thought helplessly. They could be taking him to a remote
area just so they could eat him.
“Stop worrying so much, Scott,” Sebastian spoke, and chuckled when the teenager
flinched, “Your heart is beating about a mile a second and it’s making it very
difficult to concentrate on the road.”
“Oh, um, sorry.” Scott mumbled, “Uh…nice car.”
Sebastian grinned, “You like? I just got it recently. This girl's a beauty,
ain’t she?”
“Yeah, and she’s about the only ‘girl’ you’ll ever be inside.” Lydia cut in
snippily, reapplying some of her bright red lipstick.
“How crude.”
“Hmph.”
Scott almost didn’t notice when they had stopped in a remote clearing in the
woods. Sebastian climbed out along with Lydia, and the door to Scott’s left
opened. He apprehensively stepped out of the car, letting Sebastian close the
door behind him. Ahead, he saw Miles and Elle standing a few feet away.
Before Scott could even say a word, he heard a loud growl from his right and
moved out of the way just in time to dodge Derek’s launched body, already in
beta form, heading towards Sebastian.
Like he had been prepared for it, Sebastian almost effortlessly caught Derek in
mid-air and threw him to the other side. His face was morphed into a cat-like
form, ears pointed, face lightly furred over, eyes lined black and glowing
blue.
Scott looked to his right to see his pack (besides Peter, who was curiously
absent once again), all in wolf form, charge at the werecats. Boyd leaped at
Sebastian, but missed as the werecat gracefully dodged him and delivered a
harsh roundhouse kick to his back. Scott winced as he heard an audible crack at
the contact.
Jackson and Isaac emerged from the trees to the left of Elle but, in the span
of a few seconds, she had caught Isaac by the neck and slammed him on the
ground, and Lydia, who had somehow crossed the area without Scott seeing her,
had Jackson beneath her stiletto, both girls hissing.
Miles turned around just in time to catch Erica. He twisted her around and
pinned her against a nearby tree, growling lowly.
Everything had happened so fast. Scott hadn’t even transformed yet.
Derek quickly rose and charged at Sebastian again, only to have the werecat
dodge his attack once more and this time grab him by the neck. When Derek
growled, Sebastian gave a loud roar, tightening his grip and raising Derek off
the ground, claws lengthening.
“Whoa whoa whoa!”
Everyone froze at the sound of the voice.
A hooded figure leaped from a tall tree and landed nimbly on the space before
them. He stood up, raising his arms, “What the fuck! This isn’t talking! I
wanted to talk! Jesus, you guys!” he turned towards Sebastian, “Bas, put the
fucking alpha down. Now.”
Sebastian snarled and reluctantly dropped Derek, who fell, coughing and gasping
for air. The British werecat looked down at himself, grimacing at all the dirt,
“He ruined my favorite coat.” He said petulantly, wiping himself off.
Ignoring him, the figure turned towards Scott, its face still shrouded in
darkness but now its eyes lit up bright red, revealing itself to be an alpha.
“Hey Scotty.” It said.
“Who are you? What do you want?” Scott asked, readying himself in case the
other tried to attack him.
The figure chuckled, “I told you, Scotty,” he said, lifting his hands and
putting his hood down. Scott inhaled sharply, his eyes widening as the figure’s
face was revealed in the light of the moon.
Stiles smiled genuinely, eyes still glowing, “I just wanted to talk.”
Chapter End Notes
     Next Chapter: Stiles talks to the pack! Everyone chills out (kinda)!
     FIRST STEREK INTERACTION!
     Thank you guys so much for your support of this story! I'm genuinely
     shocked at how much positive feedback I've recieved! I will try to
     update this at least twice a week. ALSO: There are quite a few OCs in
     this story as you may have noticed. I will always supply pictures
     with each one (the only ones left to introduce are the bad guys
     welp).
     And, just to give you all something to think about, Stiles' pack have
     nicknames for each other on their phones. They are: Tigger, Puma,
     Duma, Aslan, and Clouseau. I'll let you try and guess who is who. ;)
     Find me on tumblr, yo.
     Also, this is sort of what I picture when I think of werecats (not my
     drawing).
***** Explanations *****
Chapter Notes
     6k+ words...good grief. This is kind of a long chapter. For those of
     you who guessed which nicknames are for who...one of you got them all
     correct, so props to you!
     NOTE: For the sake of the story, Isaac lives with Scott just like in
     s3, but for not the same reasons. Simply because he trusts Scott the
     most.
     This is unbeta'ed. I apologize for any errors.
     Disclaimer: Aside from the plot and the original characters that I
     mention, I do not own anything.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Scott felt like his heart had shot up into his throat when the figure lowered
its hood, revealing itself to be his long lost friend. He couldn’t remember the
last time he had an asthma attack, but if Scott hadn’t known any better, he
would think that he was having one now.
“S-Stiles?” he finally choked out, swallowing hard.
The boy in front of him gave him a warm smile, his eyes fading from bright red
back to his usual warm honey brown, “Hey buddy.”
The two stared at each other for a while, both of them taking in just how much
the other had changed. Scott hadn’t changed too much in Stiles’ eyes; he’d
hacked off the mop of hair Stiles had adored, though…and of course there was
the fact that his friend was a werewolf now. That was certainly new.
On the other side, Scott couldn’t believe how much Stiles had changed, even
just physically. The teen was still thin, but no longer lanky or awkward
looking. He was more lithe and obviously fit, if the toned arms showing from
under his sleeveless hoodie were anything to go by. What had the change the
most however was the air around Stiles. He exuded confidence and ease, and
though his eyes sparked with the same amount of energy and mischief like it did
before, it was controlled. Stiles of all people had control.
The boy in question chuckled, “More like controlled chaos, if you ask me.”
Oops. Scott hadn’t realized that he had said that last part out loud.
“Well?” Stiles asked, cocking his head, “Am I going to at least get a hug?”
Scott eyed Stiles with glassy eyes, taking a hesitant step forward, before
forgoing caution and crossing the few feet between them in record speed.
Stiles laughed when Scott leaped at him, hugging him tight. His smile fell a
little when he felt wetness at his neck and the slight tremble of his friend’s
body.
“Scott…” Stiles whispered as his friend squeezed him tighter. Had Stiles been
human, the poor boy would’ve crushed him by now.
“They said you were never going to come back. They said that you were probably
dead.” Scott blubbered into Stiles’ neck, “I never believed them, Stiles, I
didn’t want to. Ever. God, Stiles…you’re here.”
Stiles felt a wave of simultaneous love and guilt for his best friend, and he
too squeezed a little tighter, “I’m here.” He murmured, rubbing Scott’s back.
“Well isn’t this touching,” Lydia mumbled, checking her nails and digging her
heel into Jackson’s chest when the beta attempted to remove her foot.
Isaac, where he was held by the neck on the ground, was watching the exchange
with rapt attention. He eyed Stiles in disbelief; this was the same skinny kid
in the photograph with Scott? Shock and something oddly akin to jealousy
flicked in his brain as he watched the two of them embrace.
Scott sniffled at Stiles’ neck and froze, before reeling his head back to look
at him, “But wait…how did—when did you—what—your eyes! How—“
His babbling was cut short with Stiles’ sigh, “That is a very long story that I
promise I will tell you later. Right now, I just want to talk.”
Derek shakily pushed himself up onto his elbows, face still morphed and teeth
gritted, “Well if you’re just going to talk,” he ground out, “can you let my
pack go?”
Stiles turned towards him, raising an eyebrow, “You know, I said from the
beginning that I just wanted to talk.” He mused, “You were the one who decided
to, or really attempt to, ambush us. So, really…this is your fault.”
Derek growled in response.
The alpha werecat huffed, “Don’t be such a sourwolf. I’ll let them go if you
tell your pack to stand down. They’ve wasted enough time as it is.”
Derek turned to each of his pack members, who all stiffly turned their heads to
meet his eyes. He looked up to glare at Stiles, before looking back at his pack
and nodding once, shifting back to human form.
The others quickly followed, and the werecats slowly released them. Well,
almost all of them.
Miles had loosened his grip on Erica slightly so it wasn’t so uncomfortable,
but instead of letting her go, he buried his face in her hair towards the back
of her neck and sniffed.
“You smell good. Crisp. Spicy.” He mumbled, trailing his nose along her neck.
Erica tensed at first, still against the tree with her hands still behind her
back, but she found herself quickly relaxing at the feel of velvety lips
brushing along her neck.
Stiles turned his head to look at them and his lips quirked a little, “Miles,”
he called, “You can flirt later. Let her go.”
Snickering at the pout on his beta’s lips, Stiles watched as Miles eventually
stepped away from Erica, who looked flushed. He could easily smell her slight
arousal from here, and knew from the sidelong glance that Miles threw her that
he could, too.
Apparently Derek could, too, because once he had stood up, he growled in Miles’
direction and took a threatening step forward. Miles turned to him and spat,
hissing menacingly.
“Ah, you guys,” Stiles said, sounding frustrated, “No more fighting. Miles will
keep his hands to himself. For now, anyway.”
The other wolves, aside from Boyd whose arm was hefted over Jackson’s shoulder
after being knocked out from Sebastian’s blow, stood up and made their way to
their alpha, eyeing everyone else warily. The werecats did the same and
gathered behind their own alpha, eyeing Scott who fidgeted uncomfortably under
their scrutiny.
“So, um…what did you want to talk about?” Scott asked.
“Well, I did want to talk to you privately,” Stiles began, glancing at Derek
who glared in response, “but I suppose that I should’ve figured that your pack
wouldn’t be too keen on that, you know, meeting a stranger alone thing.”
Crossing his arms, Stiles continued, “Anyway, back to business…I wanted to talk
to you because there’s a reason that we’re here. As you’ve noticed, several
murders have been taking place, and no, it’s not us. But it is someone like us.
Or really, people like us, that are responsible.”
Derek scoffed from his position behind Scott, “Can’t control your pack? I think
that’s a sign of a weak alpha, don’t you think?” he sneered.
“Watch your tongue, dog, lest I cut it out for you.” Lydia hissed back, nails
extending into sharp claws.
Stiles raised a hand in front of her face, stopping her from doing anything.
The alpha stared at Derek curiously, and without warning stepped around Scott
and walked over to him.
Derek growled as Stiles invaded his personal space. The younger alpha chose to
ignore him and the rest of his pack who were all growling as well. He leaned
close, so that only a few inches separated him from Derek.
Stiles eyes glowed red, “Well, you’re just a little ray of sunshine, aren’t
you, wittle puppy?” He whispered mockingly, raising his eyebrows, “Puppy wanna
play?”
“I will tear your throat out. With my teeth.” Derek snarled, his own eyes
glowing a furious scarlet.
“Ooh, kinky,” Stiles mumbled, then got a little closer, “Try it, big boy. Try
it, I dare you.”
The two alphas stared at each other; eyes mirrored the same shade of crimson,
in a tense silence.
“Derek,” Scott suddenly said, breaking Derek’s concentration, “Don’t. Please.”
Derek broke the eye-contact to look up, noticing that Stiles’ pack had all
half-morphed into their cat forms, ready to strike once again, and then noticed
Scott’s pleading look. His heart dropped. He may not know this kid, but Scott
did. From what he understood, Scott had just now got him back.
Looking back at Stiles, he felt his eye twitch at having to back out of the
challenge, but he did so anyway for Scott’s sake, making his eyes turn back to
its usual cool green.
Stiles grinned, almost manically, “Can’t control your emotions?” he asked
earnestly, before parroting Derek’s words back at him, “I think that’s the sign
of a weak alpha, don’t you think?”
Derek’s upper lip twitched in an impulse to bare his teeth but he resisted.
“Stiles,” Scott said, “C’mon, what were you saying?”
The young alpha allowed his eyes to fade back to brown and he leaned away from
Derek and walked back to his friend.
“In response to your accusations, Hale…no. The rogues are not from my pack. I
ousted them after becoming alpha of the pack because they weren’t to keen on
following my lead.” Stiles replied.
Scott looked confused, “Why wouldn’t they follow you?”
“Because I killed their alpha.” Stiles stated simply, and then glanced at
Sebastian, “Sorry Bas.”
The older male harrumphed, “I hated the bitch. It’s fine.” At Scott’s curious
look, Sebastian gave a small smile, “She was my older sister who turned into a
nefarious strumpet after becoming alpha. Needless to say, I didn’t care too
much for her life after the fact.”
“Anyway,” Stiles continued, “After I killed her, the power turned to me and
obviously that meant that everyone else was suppose to follow my lead. There
were only six of us, excluding Arisa, the former alpha. Bas and Lyds were the
only ones that decided to stay. The other three silently decided that I was
‘unworthy’ of such a position, but I honestly think that they were just jealous
that they were unable to kill her themselves.”
“They were.” Lydia confirmed bluntly, once again examining her nails
indifferently.
“One tried to attack me while I slept, so I slashed his head off and left it in
their tent. The next morning they were gone and I really didn’t mind.” Stiles
said loftily.
“Jesus Stiles,” Scott breathed, staring with wide eyes. The rest of the teens
behind Derek mirrored his expression.
“What? They tried to kill me and an example needed to be set.” Stiles reasoned
without remorse. He glanced at Derek and smirked, “You’d have done the same.”
Derek chuffed and looked away, but Stiles knew the answer from the slight
irregularity in his heartbeat.
“About a month and a half later, I got a text from an unknown number. It was a
picture of a copy of my birth certificate with the line ‘game on’ attached to
it. I could only assume that they were going to come here, so I built myself a
pack, trained them, and…well, here I am.” Stiles finished, shrugging, “I assume
that they sensed my presence, which is why the murders have picked up.”
“So…why did you want to talk to me alone?” Scott asked, almost afraid of the
answer.
Stiles looked at his friend, his face now serious, “Scott…they came to my
hometown. They looked for my birth certificate because I never revealed
anything about my personal life to the pack, and for good reason. I may have
left Beacon Hills but this was still my home. There are innocent people here
that don’t deserve to be in the crossfire, and yet here they are.”
He stepped close, gripping Scott’s shoulders firmly, “They are trying to find
more information about me, and I don’t doubt that after digging a little bit,
they’ll find out about you, your family, your pack and…and about my father.”
Stiles sighed over the last word, “I don’t want anyone else hurt, and I
especially don’t want you hurt. Or my dad. So I’m telling you this now because
I need you prepared. They are older born werecats with tons of experience under
their belts. What you saw tonight with my pack? That’s just a taste of what we
can do, and not all of us are born werecats.”
Scott swallowed hard, “What do you want me to do?” he asked quietly.
Stiles smiled, “I want you to train. With us.” He answered, “Your pack, aside
from a clever veterinarian and the older Hale—who can come out from behind the
tree because that’s really creepy by the way—know jack squat about my kind. You
need to be fully prepared to take them on should they come after you, which I
have no doubt that they will eventually. We know the ropes, you know the town.
We need you on our side, not against us.”
After being called out, Peter stepped out from behind a tree, looking sheepish
but standing his ground.
Scott nodded solemnly, “Okay…but for the record, you know this town, too.”
Stiles faltered a little, and he sighed, “I used to, Scott. Not anymore.”
“So what then,” Derek cut in arms crossed, “you just expect us to help you
after you all attacked us tonight?”
“You attacked us, ya cranky git.” Sebastian retorted, earning himself a growl
from the other alpha, “And yes, that is exactly what we expect. Did you not
hear the lad? They will find out about Scott, they will find out that he’s a
werewolf, and they most certainly will find out about you and your pack.”
“I know about your family and really, I’m deeply sorry for your tragic loss,”
Derek growled again at their mention, but Sebastian continued, “but do not
forget that the rest of your pack likely still have families back home. If you
care anything for them, you should heed our warning and accept our offer.”
“I’ll do it,” Scott accepted easily, and then turned to face Derek, pleading
him with his eyes to accept as well. Derek seethed a bit from an injured ego,
and before long, he ground out a simple, “Fine.”
Stiles face lit up, a drastic change from his serious expression before,
“Great! Tomorrow’s Saturday, so we’ll start then at…3:30 should be good. Yay
for cooperation!” he whooped.
Miles and Sebastian cracked a grin at their alpha, while Lydia rolled her eyes
and Elle just smiled softly like she hadn’t just pinned down a werewolf a few
minutes ago.
“Stiles,” Scott cut in, “…Shouldn’t we tell your dad? Not about all this
but…that you’re back?”
Stiles’ face fell. “No, we should definitely not tell him.” He answered
sternly.
“Stiles, he’s been worrying himself sick looking for you for the past six
years. He deserves to know that his son is alive.”
“He deserves to be safe. That’s all.” Stiles responded firmly.
“Stiles—“
“Scott,” Stiles snapped, crimson eyes glaring, “no. Drop it.”
The beta wolf flinched and dropped his head in defeat. Stiles felt a twinge of
guilt twist in his gut, but he soon shrugged it off.
“So tomorrow. 3:30pm. Be there.” He finished, turning to Sebastian’s Bugatti to
slide inside. Everyone else began to pile in, when a thought occurred to Derek.
“Be where, exactly? Are we just supposed to find you?”
Stiles rolled down the window, grinning, “Of course not. We live right above
your loft, silly.” He responded, winking, “I have your number, too. I’ll text
you, sourwolf, don’t worry.”
Before Derek could reply, the Bugatti’s engine roared to life and it quickly
backed out and zoomed away, leaving the wolf pack behind in its dust.
 
 
                                     -x-x-
Scott was sitting on his bed as he traced over a photograph of himself and
Stiles, smiling softly. It was taken at Scott’s sixth birthday party at Chuck E
Cheese. Stiles was holding the large Chuck E Cheese head in glee while Scott
was laughing. The mascot could be seen in the background, sitting in a chair
and holding an icepack to his head, all the while glaring at the two of them.
He remembered the entire thing vividly. He and Stiles had been playing around,
and they were pretending that they were fierce warriors with their stuffed
swords they had won in one of the arcade games. The mascot had been bothering
Stiles’ mother, who was a little sick at the time, so Stiles had gotten on top
of one of the tables and had leaped on the mascot’s back, tackling him to the
ground and tearing the head piece off, screaming about “protecting the
princess” and wailing a battle roar of sorts until the Sheriff pulled him away.
Scott had laughed so hard he cried.
“Hey,”
Scott looked up from the photo, noticing Isaac leaning in the doorway.
“You okay? Tonight was kind of…intense.” Isaac said, stepping in and sitting on
the bed next to Scott.
“I’m…I’m okay,” Scott breathed, looking back at the photo, “I guess I’m just a
little in shock. I can’t believe he’s back. I mean, yeah he’s obviously changed
a lot but…he’s still kind of the same…sorry, that doesn’t make sense, does it?”
“No, no I get it,” Isaac assured, looking at the photo Scott was holding with
an amused smile, “He’s grown up now, just like you are, and has obviously gone
through some rough times on his own to help shape who he is now. But inside,
he’s still the same. With you, at least, from what I saw tonight.”
Scott nodded silently in agreement.
Isaac sighed, “Either way, I’m glad that you’re happy, Scott.” He said,
throwing an arm around his friend’s back, ignoring the twinge of jealousy that
he had felt when he saw him and Stiles hugging tightly tonight, “It…it really
does.”
Scott turned to him and smiled, “Thanks man,” he replied, leaning into Isaac
slightly in a one armed hug that made Isaac’s stomach flutter.
Before Scott went to bed, his phone buzzed with a new text. When he read it, he
felt a short laugh cough out from his mouth. Attached was the same exact photo
Scott had been looking at earlier and the following message:
From: UNKNOWN NUMBER 11:12:01pm
  Kitty caught the rat. I’ve always loved this picture.
 Goodnight, Scotty. –Stiles
 
 
                                     -x-x-
The next day, around three o’clock, Scott made the thirty-minute drive to
Derek’s loft with Isaac riding behind him, arms holding onto his waist. Taking
note of Isaac’s stiff posture, Scott put the bike in park in one of the spaces,
removed his helmet, and turned to him with a questioning look.
Isaac glanced his way and shrugged, taking off his own helmet, “I’m just a
little nervous. Last night was the first time I’ve ever encountered or even
heard of a werecat, and now we’re going to hang out with them like it’s the
most natural thing in the world.”
“Well its not like we have much choice,” Scott replied, “if there are people
like them threatening the ones we care about, we have to know what to expect.
I’m nervous, too, but I trust Stiles’ judgment. We’ll be fine.”
Sighing, Isaac nodded, and with that said, they made their way to Derek’s loft.
The rest of the pack was already there waiting for them. Erica, Boyd and
Jackson were sitting on the couch, and Peter and Derek were at one of the
tables, discussing something.
Derek looked especially grumpy with whatever he seemed to be talking about, and
he looked up when Scott and Isaac entered.
“You’re late.” He says, standing up and walking to them.
Scott looked confused, “No we’re not.”
Huffing, Derek pulled out his phone and showed him a message.
From: UNKNOWN NUMBER 3:07:45pm
  Hey sourwolf. We’re all ready when you are, so come on up whenever.
  We’re loft 267. The door’s open. See you later, big boy. ;) –Stiles
Scott blinked at the last sentence. Derek growled in response, “Let’s go.” He
grunted and pushed past Scott and Isaac.
“Someone’s got his undies in a twist.” Erica mumbled, ignoring the growl sent
her way.
The pack made their way up to the other loft, the plaque next to the door
reading ‘267’. Derek pulled open the door, and the pack stepped inside the
threshold.
Almost immediately, the smell of smoked mint, lemon balm, and grass filled the
wolves nostrils.
Stiles poked his head out from what Derek guessed was the living room. The boy
grinned and leaped over the couch. A rolled substance was held between his
middle and forefinger, and his eyes were a deep, relaxed merlot.
“Hey there.” Stiles greeted, taking another hit and breathing out.
“Hey,” Scott greeted pack, staring interestedly at the item in Stiles hand,
“…is that a joint?”
Stiles glanced down at his hand and laughed, “Oh no, it’s not. Not really
anyway. Marijuana tastes absolutely vile. This is Nepeta cataria.”
He laughed again at the confused expressions on the wolves’ faces. He heard
Lydia walk up behind him, and he allowed her to take the roll from him. She
took a graceful hit and wrapped her arm around Stiles’, purring softly.
“Nepeta cataria, also known as catnip.” Lydia explained, “Marijuana doesn’t
affect us that much…so this is like our substitute.”
“Bas is our dealer.” Miles snorted from the other side of the room, a muffled
slap and an ‘ow, fuck man’ following soon after.
“Anyway, c’mon, follow me. We’re all over here.” Stiles said, leading the pack
into the living room with Lydia wrapped around his arm.
Sebastian was sitting on the sleek black couch; looking lax with his legs wide
open and head lolled back. Elle was perched on his lap, looking extremely
comfortable with her head leaning against the older male’s shoulder. Miles was
on the floor between Sebastian’s legs, smoking a roll of catnip himself. Stiles
sat down next to Sebastian, smiling as Elle instantly crawled over to him and
cuddled up to him.
In fact, as Scott and the rest of the pack watched, the werecats took immediate
notice of Stiles’ presence and they all seemed to gravitate closer to him.
Sebastian threw an arm over Stiles on his right and Lydia still clung to his
arm on his left. Miles went so far as to nuzzle Stiles’ black jean covered
thigh affectionately from his spot on the floor, purring when Stiles carded his
fingers through his soft black hair.
Stiles looked up and noticed the wolf pack staring at him and raised an
eyebrow. “Are you going to sit down? We can’t just jump into the physical
training just yet. You need to learn a little more of our kind.”
Peter looked away indifferently, “I think that I know enough. I’m just going to
browse around—“
“No, you’re going to sit and you’re going to listen to me.” Stiles interrupted
calmly, “I understand that you know a little bit more about us than the rest of
your pack, but you don’t know enough. Besides, I know that all you’re going to
do is look around and search for evidence that I’m lying or that this is all a
trick and, Peter, I assure you that I’m not.”
Peter’s eye twitched a little at being caught so early in the game. Derek
fought back a smirk of amusement.
“You wound me, Stiles,” Peter finally said, “why does no one seem to trust me?”
“Oh, I’m not sure, maybe because you killed your own niece in a fit of
insanity, turned Scott against his will, and then decided to zombie your way
back from hell?” Stiles offered, taking the pack of wolves off-guard, “Even if
I didn’t know all of that, I’d be wary of the fact that you wreak of rotten
flesh and ash.”
Elle, who spoke in a quiet voice, answered the unspoken question, “Your town
records aren’t exactly private, nor are your security camera logs.” Her soft
Russian accent flowed lightly between each word, and she smiled when Stiles
leaned over to kiss her forehead.
“Also, it helps that my father hasn’t changed his security sign in,” Stiles
admitted, shrugging, “so.”
Peter stared at the young boy with grudging respect, and he took a seat on one
of the couches, quickly followed by the rest of the pack.
“Alright then,” Stiles began, “Now I’ve already told you the gist of who and
why the threat is here. Since you claim to know just enough, Peter, tell me…how
do our pack dynamics work?”
“They are very similar to wolves,” Peter started, reaching into his memory,
“There are Alphas, Betas, and omegas, and a pack must have an Alpha plus at
least three betas to be sufficient. A pack of werecats are a little different,
however, as the Alpha does not always have to be the strongest in the pack.
This is due to the various breeds within each pack.”
Stiles nodded, “This is basically correct. Werecats come in various different
breeds, mostly because we frequently migrate from place to place to avoid
competition with other packs. Contrary to belief, having a pack full of the
same breed is a very bad idea, as it appears to encourage rebellion. For
example, I” Stiles gestured to himself, “am a tiger. Bas is a lion, which is
why he has a tendency to be cocky as fuck sometimes—“
“Fuck you, like you’re one to talk.” Sebastian interjected with a pout. Stiles
nipped the protruding lip and continued, “Lydia is a Cougar, which doesn’t
surprise me because of her tendency to hunt down younger men—ow, fucking hell,
I was kidding” Stiles whined as Lydia pinched the shit out of his arm, “—Miles
is a black panther, and Elle” he nuzzled her gently, to which she giggled,
“over here is a cheetah, our little speedy devil.”
“You make me sound like a child, Stiles.” She says, smiling nonetheless.
Stiles only grinned into her neck, nipping gently before pulling back.
“…You’d think they’d have an orgy or something…” Jackson whispered to Boyd.
“We’ve only done that once,” Lydia replied haughtily, smirking at Jackson’s
resulting expression of shock.
“Back to the point,” Stiles waved dismissively, “the two rogues are both
leopards…brother and sister named Seth and Olivia Torres. The middle child is
the one I killed. He was also a leopard. They believe in purebred packs, you
know, no turned werecats and all that jazz. It’s incredibly redundant, I know.
So by the time Arisa turned me, I was already on their shitlist from the moment
I joined the pack.”
Sebastian chose that moment to cut in, “The Torres’s played dirty from the
start. Their entire lineage has. Our pack has been around for centuries, and
even our ancestors never got along. They believe that they are the ones truly
worthy of the ‘throne’, as they so arrogantly put it. Now they’re outraged that
the LaRoche pack, my family lineage, has now been transferred to an outsider,
and even worse—in their minds—a turned were. They’re daft little gits that have
never known their place and never will.”
“Shouldn’t you be able to find them though?” Boyd spoke up hesitantly; “I mean,
if not Stiles then at least you two” he motioned to Sebastian and Lydia, “since
you’ve been around for a while.”
“I see where you’d think so,” Lydia answered, “but we’re cats. We’re naturally
evasive and cunning. We don’t strike all at once; we organize hits and wait for
the perfect opportunity to strike the target. Werecats are only found because
they want to be.”
Derek looked up and glared at them, “So what is your brilliant plan, then?”
Stiles smirked, “In the cases of werecat disputes, wolves have a tendency to
try and stay out of it because of the cutthroat nature of it all. However,
seeing as I have connections to people, one of which happens to be a werewolf
now, you are basically forced to step in. That being said, these rogues are not
educated to the point of knowing how to evade wolves because they never have
before.”
“Meaning…” Derek trailed off, looking for a point.
“Meaning that they can tiptoe around us all they want, as that’s what we were
trained to do, but we’ve never been taught to hide our scent completely because
that’s not a sense that we rely on.” Stiles explained, “Cats may have the upper
hand when it comes to sight and hearing, but canines are by far the masters of
scent. Even the smallest trace can lead you to their location or at least track
us to where they’ve been.”
“So you want us to be your bloodhound.” Derek stated, feeling insulted at the
explanation.
Stiles gave him an unamused look, “No. We want you to be werewolves on our
side. We understand that there are hunters here, correct?” he didn’t wait for
an affirmative, “I assume that they know of you, and I don’t doubt that they’ll
start to come to your door crossbows a-blazing and ask questions later. Face
it; you want these guys out of here just as much as we do. So stop antagonizing
and start being a little grateful that my pack is teaching you Werecat 101.
Okay?”
Derek’s upper lip twitched in an impulse to bare his teeth at being reprimanded
by a seventeen year old.
The seventeen-year-old in question grinned, “So. Let’s start, shall we?” he
said, gently pushing Elle into Sebastian’s lap and clapping his hands, “Lesson
one—“
A rush of air blew past, and suddenly Derek found himself with a lapful of
Stiles, whose face was suddenly incredibly close to his. He froze as the scent
of sweet jasmine, fresh grass, and deep amber filled his nostrils. The
weretiger leaned close to his ear, “never so get easily distracted that you
can’t track a cat’s movements.” He whispered. Derek could feel the boy’s fangs
at his ear as he grinned, and he fought to suppress a shudder.
“No fair,” Miles suddenly interjected petulantly, “you say I can’t flirt and
yet here you are giving a wolf a lapdance.”
Stiles pulled back and stepped off of Derek, who was still frozen in shock and,
even more embarrassing, arousal. “Oh hush, Miles,” he laughed, turning back to
the wolf pack, “We’ve only just begun our day.”
If Stiles could smell Derek’s slight arousal, he didn’t show it. Peter,
however, obviously did as he smirked at his nephew. Derek only growled back.
 
                                     -x-x-
                                        
Scott grunted as he hit the hardwood floor for the millionth time, breathing
hard after being dropkicked by Miles, who he had been training with for the
last hour and a half.
Stiles sighed from his position against the wall next to Derek, where they were
watching everyone spar. Walking over, he crouched down next to him, “Scott,
I’ve told you already…you need to relax your body. Cats are naturally nimble
and graceful and can easily evade brute attacks like the ones you’re trying to
land.” He says.
His friend looked at him exasperatedly, “Yeah, well easier said than done. Its
really hard to stay relaxed when you’re trying to fight for your life.”
Stiles stared at him for a little bit, and then nodded. “Okay then, here’s an
idea,” he said, standing up, “follow me for a second.”
Scott stood up as quickly as he could with his tired limbs and followed after
Stiles, who led him to the kitchen. He watched as his friend pulled out a
mortar and pestle, as well as a couple of labeled jars filled with unknown
substances.
“This is Bas’ secret stash of herbs,” Stiles explains with a chuckle. He opens
one jar and grimaces slightly, “Ugh god, this stinks, but I believe it’s
attractive to you.” He mumbled, snorting when he noticed Scott’s interested
nose sniffing.
“What’s that?” He asked curiously as Stiles dumped a few dried sprigs of the
substance into the mortar.
“Notchweed,” Stiles replied, giving Scott a sidelong glance, “also known as
Stinking Goosefoot.”
Stiles put a pinch of a pale yellow substance labeled ‘kava root’, and then
dropped in a few dark yellow sticks found in another bottle labeled ‘ginseng
root’. As he ground them together, Stiles spoke, “Obviously, this isn’t going
to be available when you actually go up against one of us. I just need you and
everyone else to remember the feeling you get from this and apply it to your
fighting technique.”
“How am I supposed to feel?” Scott asked warily as he watched Stiles grab a
small piece of paper, dump a little of the mixture into it, and roll it up,
sealing it with a lick around the rim.
“It’s better to experience it than for me to tell you,” Stiles explained. He
dragged Scott back over to Miles and handed Scott the homemade joint, “In the
mouth.” He said, smirking at his own innuendo.
Scott hesitantly took the roll of herbs and put it up to his mouth, holding it
between his lips. It smelt kind of good, he could say that.
Stiles fished a lighter out of his pocket, “Now when I light it, just breathe
in deeply, okay?” he instructed. Scott nodded nervously.
Quickly bringing a small fire out of the lighter, Stiles lit the end of the
joint. Scott breathed in as instructed with his eyes closed. As the smoke
entered his lungs, Scott’s eyes jerked open.
Derek, still leaning against the wall, watched with interest.
His beta’s eyes were a deep shade of gold, and where his muscles were once
tensed and alert, they were now lax and calm.
“How do you feel?” Stiles asked, taking the joint out of his friend’s mouth and
smirking as he watched him sway slightly with the movement. Scott cleared his
throat and gave a breathy laugh, “Ah-uhmm…floaty.” He slurred slightly. His
body felt warm and light, like a fresh soufflé out of the oven.
Stiles chuckled, “What a yummy comparison.”
Scott hadn’t realized that he had said that aloud, but found that he didn’t
really care.
“Cats are light on their feet by keeping themselves almost completely relaxed
as they fight.” Stiles explained, crossing his arms, “They’re quick, so their
movements are hard to trace. The little secret is to put yourself in a daze,
relax every part of your body as much as you can before they strike. It’ll look
like they’re moving in slow motion…similar to how it most likely felt when you
first transformed and were experiencing your enhanced speed.”
Stiles exchanged a look with Miles, and then turned back to Scott, “Case in
point,”
Miles aimed a perfect roundhouse kick to the left side of Scott’s face, only to
have it immediately blocked and held in Scott’s right hand within seconds.
Scott blinked and turned to look at the foot inches from his face in shock,
“Whoa…” he mumbled.
“See?” Stiles said gleefully, happy that it worked, “It’s a balance between
lethargy and alertness that makes our species so agile. Once you find that
balance, you’ll be able to not only keep up with us but even take us down.”
Scott nodded in understanding and slowly let Miles’ foot down, only to suddenly
be charged at with a barrage of attacks. His eyes widened, as, true to Stiles’
words, Miles seemed to be moving in slow motion.
He blocked every single hit and caught Miles’ leg, throwing him in the opposite
direction. Miles’ caught himself on the floor, and looked up at Scott, his own
eyes now a shining yellow and rimmed with black. He gave an impressed smirk,
“Nice.”
 
 
                                     -x-x-
By the next hour, all of the wolves aside from Derek and Peter had taken the
‘drug’ of sorts and were all now successfully sparring against the werecats.
Peter was sitting at the kitchen counter, examining a few of the herb bottles
that Stiles had used.
Derek and Stiles had retaken their spot against the opposite wall, watching
their packs spar against one another. Stiles glanced over at the large brute
with a calculating look. Feeling his gaze, Derek glanced back at him. “What?”
he asks irritably.
Stiles smiled and pushed his back off the wall, “I think we got off to the
wrong paw,” he simply replied, holding his hand out, “I’m Stiles Stilinski,
alpha of the formerly LaRoche pack.”
Derek eyed the hand before relenting and taking it in a strong grip, noting the
surprisingly soft hand, “Derek Hale.”
The younger alpha grinned boyishly, and a thought occurred to Derek. “Shouldn’t
you be in school?” he asked.
“It’s Saturday.”
Derek growled, “That’s not what I meant. Scott mentioned that those three—“ he
motioned to Miles, Lydia, and Elle, “—were the ones he saw at school. You look
sixteen. Why aren’t you in school?”
“I’m seventeen, thank you very much,” Stiles sniffed, “and I’m not in public
school because those records could easily trace back to my father. I decided
not to take that risk, so aside from being my personal Aslan, Bas is also my
homeschool teacher.”
Derek stared at the boy, and couldn’t help thinking back to the few times he
had been to the Sheriff station, where there were a few photographs of this kid
and his dad hung up. He thought of one that looked to be taken when Stiles was
only about three years old. A beautiful woman hugged the small boy tightly;
most likely his mother, and the Sheriff held them both close within his arms.
All three were smiling like they didn’t have a care in the world.
“You should tell your father.” Derek said bluntly in a gruff voice, “If not
that he’s in danger, than at least that you’re here. The man has lost so much
already. He doesn’t need to feel like the only one left in his family is dead.”
The grin completely fell off Stiles’ face and was replaced with something
murderous. Derek blinked in the severity of it.
“Do me a favor,” Stiles said lowly, “and never attempt to think that you know
anything about me or my family again. I had my reasons for leaving. I knew what
I was leaving behind. If you think for a second that I didn’t have any qualms
before leaving than you’re dead fucking wrong. So don’t even start.”
The boy glared harshly at the older alpha, eyes a bright madder, before he
scoffed and headed the opposite direction towards the kitchen, muttering
something about “needing a fucking drink” or what not.
As he passed by Peter, the older beta turned to Derek with an expression that
could only be read as ‘ooh you done it now’. Derek only growled at him, looking
down as something uncomfortable settled in the pit of his stomach.
Chapter End Notes
     Next Chapter: Bad cats introduction! Flashbacks! More training!
     Stiles opens up to Derek (a little)! STILINSKI FAMILY FEELS OH GOD.
     Guys guess what? Stiles decided that he was bored enough to make his
     own tumblr. Have questions for him or the pack? GO ASK!
     My own tumblr is here.
***** Overwhelmed *****
Chapter Notes
     BEFORE YOU READ: I just wanted you all to be aware--I will be going
     to a summer camp of sorts starting this coming Sunday up until
     Thursday. This means that I will not be able to update until at the
     earliest, next Saturday or Sunday. Please be patient with me, okay? :
     )
     This is just shy of 7k words. Whoo-wee.
     This is unbeta'ed. I apologize for any errors.
     Disclaimer: Aside from the plot and the original characters that I
     mention, I do not own anything.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
A soft sob tore out of her throat as she peered down at the locket in her
hands. The image of her brother smiled back at her, and she clutched the locket
to her chest, biting her lip to keep back another cry of anguish. She was
suddenly filled with a rush of hatred for the man, no...the boy, the
abomination that had done this to her dear brother. Another cry, a mixture of
dispair and outrage, ripped out of her as she pressed the locket to her heart,
promising not just to herself but to her brother that she would avenge his
death. She could feel her eyes flash a bright azure as footsteps came up behind
her, but they reverted as she recognized the smell of her oldest brother, Seth.
"Olivia." he says, voice gritty with strong emotion, those similar to his
younger sister, "The last strike is yours."
The young woman stood up stiffly, and she turned to face the elderly human
woman tied to her kitchen chair. The human babbled something underneath the
piece of cloth tied around her mouth, tears streaming down her weary face. She
already had many cuts along her body, each one radiating excrutiating pain and
causing the human's heart to stutter.
Olivia extended the claws on her right hand, allowing it to rest gently on the
woman's cheek. She cocked her head, "This would've gone much smoother had you
just told us what we wanted to know..." she drawled. Glancing at the sofa table
nearby, she eyed a photograph that sat upon it. The abomination stood with his
young grinning face, holding a pie that this woman most likely made.
"You knew him, Ms. Helena," she says, turning her head back to the human, "all
I ask is for more information about him. His life. Is that so hard?"
The human met her eyes and said something, though it was muffled by the cloth.
Olivia reached forward and tugged the cloth down and out of her mouth, "What
was that?" the werecat questioned, leaning close.
The elderly human didn't hesitate, her eyes blazing, "Burn in hell, demon."
Olivia's upper lip twitched, and she brought her right hand up and slashed
across the woman's neck. Blood splattered onto the opposite wall, some of it
even landing on Seth, who flinched minutely before grabbing a nearby dish towel
to wipe the blood off his face and arm. The human gurgled for a few moments
before going limp in the chair, the blood from her neck staining her light pink
nightgown and dripping onto the beige tiles of the kitchen floor.
Seth handed the kitchen cloth to his sister, who took it and wiped her hand and
claws clean. "Useless creatures..." Olivia mumbled hatefully, then turned to
her brother, "Did you find anything?"
Her brother gave a small smile and held up another photograph that he had been
hiding behind his back. It was the abomination standing amongst a crowd of
people (including the woman she had just killed). The young boy held up a cake
in front of what looked like the county sheriff, and when Olivia looked closer,
she read the iced words on the cake:
'Happy Birthday, Daddy!'
Olivia, with her fangs extended, could only grin.
                                     -x-x-
Training continued again on the next Saturday, and both Alphas were starting to
see great improvement in both of their packs. The wolves were getting more
accustomed to the cat-like fighting style without the help of the makeshift
joint Stiles had made before, and the werecats were getting a pretty good
workout from the wolves now that they could finally keep up.
Peter, who was still physically weak from resurrecting, chose to continue
reading up about the werecats from both Stiles’ books and the beastiary, asking
questions that Stiles or Sebastian had no problem answering for him.
Derek was back at his spot, standing next to Stiles and overlooking their
packs. Things were a bit awkward after the young werecat had reprimanded him,
but apparently that was one-sided. Stiles seemed to have either forgotten all
about it or forgiven him, because the second Derek and his pack arrived today,
Stiles hadn’t stopped talking.
Stiles’ heart was beating at a normal speed, and he wasn’t sweating abnormally,
so it wasn’t nerves that were ruling his nonstop chatter. After a while, Derek
figured out that this must be how Stiles is naturally. All talk, but still most
likely accompanied with a harsh bite to match. It was intriguing to experience,
maybe because the only other alphas he had been around were his mother and, for
an ephemeral period of time, Peter. It was always interesting to see how they
interacted with their pack.
Though Derek was insanely curious about Stiles’ past, he refused to bring it
up. He didn’t want to have a repeat of last Saturday, so he kept it to himself.
For now. At least for until he knew Stiles a little better.
So, with that, once Stiles had finished talking about something random that had
to do with the Roman Empire, Derek cut in, “How did you form your pack?”
Stiles paused and turned to look at him curiously, “What?”
“Your pack,” Derek repeated, motioning towards the sparring werecats, “I know
that you said Sebastian and Lydia were already in your pack since you basically
inherited them, but what about the other two?”
A slow smile spread over the young alpha’s face and he nodded, “Yeah. Bas and
Lyds were already a package deal once I became Alpha. But, like you know, a
pack needs at least three betas to be stable, so I had to find another.”
Stiles leaned a little further into the brick wall, crossing his arms as he
reminisced, “I kind of road-tripped across the country, looking for suitable
humans and searching around to see if I could maybe find a lost omega
somewhere. Eventually, per Bas’s suggestion, we travelled to Europe, as our
kind is most prevalent there. About a month in, I traveled to Italy, where I
found Miles.”
“Miles was fourteen when I found him. He’s a fantastic soccer player, but
wasn’t on the school team because he couldn’t never make the meets due to
always tending to his younger sister, Serena, who was in the hospital. She was
in a coma after a car accident that killed both of their parents. The doctors
wanted to pull the plug, but Miles refused to let her go, often coming to bring
her stuffed animals and read her stories. Miles was sacrificing his social life
for her…for a young girl that was already gone.”
Miles closed the book, smiling, “That was an awesome book, don’t you think,
sister?” he asked, reaching forward to grasp his younger sister’s small, frail
hand. The girl on the bed didn’t respond, as she was hooked up to several
machines. Miles barely seemed to notice them, “Here, I brought another one!” he
said cheerfully, picking up another.
Stiles watched from the doorway with sad eyes. From where the boy sat, his back
faced Stiles, so he was unable to see the new arrival.
The scene before Stiles gripped at his heart and squeezed tightly, and painful
memories swooped back into his mind. He had been here before. Not this hospital
or place, but in this situation…with his mother. He remembered feeling the same
amount of denial this boy was feeling, still fresh in his heart after four
years. He was the same age as this boy is now, and couldn’t help but relate to
him on a personal level.
“She’s beautiful.”
Miles jumped slightly, the book in his hands clattering to the ground as he
hurriedly stood up to face Stiles. He stepped in front of his sister’s bed
protectively, “W-Who are you?” he demanded.
Stiles eyed the dark circles under the boy’s green eyes, before raising his own
eyes to meet him, “I’m Stiles. It’s a nickname.” He responded, pushing off the
railing of the door and closing it behind him. He raised his hands, open-palm
out, as he approached, wanting to reassure the boy that he meant no harm.
“What do you want? How did—do I know you? How did you get in here?” Miles
stammered, still standing tensely by his sister’s bedside. They stood at the
same height, though Miles’ spiked hair gave him about another inch.
“I just wanted to talk to you, and no you don’t know me,” Stiles replied,
pulling up a chair and sitting down in it, “I snuck in here, so I’d prefer it
if you didn’t, you know, press that button behind you that your finger is
wandering by.”
Miles instantly pulled his hand back from the Emergency Call button, looking
embarrassed at being caught.
Stiles smiled softly, “You want to sit down?”
“I told him about me, about what I am,” Stiles explained, “like any normal
person, he didn’t believe me until my eyes went red. I told him that I had been
watching him for a while, and that I was interested in making him like me.”
Miles looked back at his sister hesitantly, “I…I can’t leave her, Stiles.” He
whispered, feeling tears well up in his eyes. He flinched as Stiles reached
over and took one of his hands gently, “I know it’s hard…but you have to know.
She’s…she’s already gone, Miles…I’m sorry.”
The boy shook his head fervently, the tears now streaming down his face, “No,
n-no she can’t! I don’t—I don’t wanna—“ he sobbed, letting go of Stiles’ hands
to bury his face in his sister’s arm, crying brokenly.
Stiles reached over to rub comfortingly at the back of Miles’ neck, feeling his
own eyes grow heavy at the emotion the boy was showing. “You need to let her
go, Miles…she would want you to move on…to be happy.”
Miles sniffled, shoulders quaking and face wet with tears as he turned his head
to face Stiles, “…She’s all that I have left.” He whispered hoarsely.
Scooting his chair closer, Stiles shook his head, “That’s where you’re wrong,
Miles,” he pressed, “you have me and the pack. We’ll never be a replacement for
Serena or your parents but…you’ll have us. We’ll always be here for
you.Always.”
Miles looked into Stiles’ warm and earnest eyes, feeling the genuine emotion
behind the werecat’s words. “Will I…I don’t want to hurt people…”
“I wouldneverlet you hurt innocent people. Family doesn’t allow
that.Packdoesn’t allow that. Miles, you’ll be safe with me, with us.”
The young human boy looked back at his baby sister, hooked up to all of those
machines, her bed crowded with stuffed animals and books full of adventures.
If she were still here, she would want him to go on an adventure of his
own…wouldn’t she?
Miles looked back to Stiles, his hand still clasped with the other, and spoke
softly, “…Okay.”
“About three days later, they pulled the plug on Serena. Miles then officially
asked for the bite that same night.”
“…You were fourteen when you became Alpha?”
Stiles turned to Derek and gave him a little smirk, but otherwise didn’t reply.
“Elle was…I guess an accident, for the lack of a better word.” Stiles
continued, scratching his chin, “Not in, like, I accidentally bit her or
anything, but I didn’t mean to come across her. I already had three betas, so
as far as I knew, I was good for the time being. However, something I had
forgotten to consider was that, where werecats are prevalent in Europe,” Stiles
sighed, “so are hunters.”
Stiles, already transformed into his Alpha form, ran as fast as his paws could
handle and then some. There were three thick crossbow arrows soaked with
Rhododendron oil lodged into him, two in his abdomen and one in his left hind
leg.
“—Rhododendron is like wolfsbane to cats, by the way,” Stiles cut in.
Once far enough to where he couldn’t hear the obnoxious hollering of the
hunters anymore, Stiles paused by a tree and collapsed, breathing hard. He
hissed when he tried to move his leg and mentally cursed himself for being so
stupid as to fall for the hunter’s trap. His pack had scattered and he hoped
with every fiber of his being that they managed to escape with minimal injuries
at most.
The poison was starting to spread, and Stiles felt himself shift back into
human form. He was getting weaker and was beginning to cough out black blood.
This…was not good…he thought, just before he slipped into darkness.
The rest was like a dream. He felt himself lift off the ground and suddenly he
was in a wheelbarrow of sorts. His vision went in and out along with the bumps
of the terrain as the wheelbarrow was pushed along. Everything went black again
for a while…until a flare of white-hot pain seared through his body, jolting
him awake.
Stiles yowled and scrambled away from the pain, hissing dangerously at whomever
was in the room with him. When his vision settled, he found a young girl, about
his age though maybe a bit younger, kneeling in front of him, her hands up in a
defensive manner and her eyes wide. He growled and hissed again.
“I-I’m sorry,” she stammered in a quiet voice, “I was trying to get the poison
out.”
Suddenly brought back to what had happened earlier, Stiles looked down at
himself. The arrows had been taken out of him, but black, poisoned veins
surrounded the bleeding wounds. It was then he realized that he was still
incredibly fatigued. And naked.
He noticed her scoot closer to him and he spat and hissed in alarm. She backed
up, but looked distressed, “Please, I have to get the poison out or you’ll
die.” She pleaded.
Stiles blinked at her and turned to look at the fireplace right next to them. A
cast iron pot was over the flames, and though it was covered, he could smell
the weak Rhododendron fumes. Next to the girl was a bowl of thick, steaming,
yellowish liquid and a brush.
“It’s Rhododendron extract combined with herbs that neutralize it. It…burns out
the toxins and allows you to heal.” She explained softly.
Stiles raised his eyes back to her, his body still in a defensive position.
“Please,” she said, looking like she was physically pained by his pain, “let me
help you.”
After a few moments, Stiles relented and settled back into what he realized was
a makeshift bed of furs, most likely mink fur, if he remembered correctly. It
was soft and warm against his cooled skin. He flinched slightly as he felt the
girl’s soft hand land on his shoulder, gently coaxing him to lie down. He
reluctantly complied.
She watched over him, a slightly hesitant look appearing on her face, “I’m
going to apply this to your wounds now…” she said, gesturing to the liquid in
the bowl, “It’s going to hurt. Try, um…not to kill me, please?”
Stiles raised an amused eyebrow before settling his claws into the floorboards
to anchor himself. She dipped the brush in the liquid, and, with a breath, she
painted it over the wounds. The wounds flared a bright purple and Stiles
screamed as the pain ripped through him.
The entry wounds singed black before finally healing back to unblemished pale
skin. Stiles slumped onto the ground, panting as his skin knitted back
together. His throat was parched and sore, and he couldn’t tell if it was
because of how much he had ran earlier or from the screaming.
He heard the girl walk away for a moment, before she returned to his side, a
small cup of water in her hands. Gently, she placed a hand under his head and
tilted him up just enough so she could tilt the cup of water towards his mouth,
allowing him to drink. He did so greedily, letting a hand come up and grip the
cup himself, downing the liquid fast.
He breathed deeply afterward, allowing himself to take in his surroundings now
that he was more coherent. It looked like he was in a small shack of sorts. He
noticed the small evergreen tree in the corner of the room, decorated in
handmade wooden ornaments. On the wooden panels next to the tree, a makeshift
calendar was scrawled. Stiles read each marked off day until he came to what
today must be. The 25th of December.
“My name’s Elle.” The girl suddenly spoke, breaking Stiles out of his thoughts.
Blinking owlishly, Stiles quirked a small grin, “Stiles.”
“Merry Christmas, Stiles.”
“Ah…Merry Christmas. Um…can I have some pants?”
“As it turned out, she was a runaway foster child from some Russian orphanage
about five miles out. She had been hiding in that cabin for a few months when
she found me. She…took care of me and nursed me back to health. I got to know
her, about how she never knew who her biological parents were, about how she
didn’t have any friends back at the orphanage…and how she already knew about
what I am.”
“I’ve seen one of you guys before…another werecat.” Elle said one day after
making Stiles something she called‘Zharkoye’, which is basically like a Russian
beef stew.
Stiles freezes, spoon halfway to his mouth, and turns to look at her. It had
only been a day since he arrived here with her, and he guesses that he
should’ve figured that she would know since she obviously knew how to take the
Rhododendron out. Thankfully, through the course of such events, she at least
was able to find him a pair of comfortable cotton pants that fit.
“I was only about four years old. I had been wandering the forest grounds when
I came across…I think it was a lynx. I would’ve just thought that it was an
ordinary cat if it didn’t have such bright red eyes like—“
She paused when Stiles let his own true eyes show.
“—like that. I-um, anyway, I started to read up on them a lot…which put me on
the outcast side of the social ladder. I was called the…the-um…”
“The what?”
“…They called mepizda staraya,” she whispered, “which, um…basically translates
to ‘old hag’. Something about a crazy cat lady or, I don’t know.”
Stiles blinked. He couldn’t explain the flare of outrage that erupted from his
heart at the words. “You know that you aren’t, right?”
Startled, Elle looked up, “What?”
“A crazy cat lady. You know that you aren’t, right?”
“…I…I mean yes, of course.”
“Say it.”
“W-What? Why?”
“Just say it. With that Russian word that you said.”
Elle stared at Stiles, who was waiting patiently.
“I’m not…I…” Elle stopped to take a breath, feeling ridiculous as tears welled
up in her eyes, “I’m not a crazy cat lady. I’m…I’m not apizda staraya.”
Stiles grinned at her, taking another spoonful of the stew into his mouth and
swallowing, “I didn’t think you were.”
“My pack found me about a day and a half later.” Stiles sighed, “I didn’t want
to leave her in the woods like that, and though she put up a good front, I
could tell that she didn’t want me to leave, either. So…I asked her if she
wanted the bite. And she accepted.”
Elle, who had paused in her sparring with Boyd to get a drink, walked over to
the two Alphas. Stiles smiled and raised his arm, allowing her to tuck herself
into his side. She nuzzled his neck, purring softly, and Stiles affectionately
planted a few kisses on her forehead.
Derek watched the two in interest and slight envy. He wished that his own pack
trusted him as much as Stiles’ pack obviously did. There was also the fact that
Stiles had no problem showing affection for this girl. Did that mean that
Stiles was straight or—
Wait. Why the fuck did that even matter?
Derek shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. Glancing back at his pack,
he frowned, “Hey. What are you guys doing?”
His and Stiles’ pack were all lounging on the couch, tired and sweat-drenched,
with bottles of water clutched in their hands. Derek’s eyebrows furrowed when
he noticed just how cuddly they all were. He wondered if that was intentional.
Scott was sprawled on the couch with Isaac cuddled up behind him, both of their
heads resting in Sebastian’s lap, who’s hand petted their sweat-matted hair
lightly. Erica was nearly asleep in Miles’ lap, Boyd was asleep against
Jackson’s leg, who was leaning his head on Lydia’s shoulder.
“We’re tired,” Scott mumbled, snuggling into Sebastian’s thigh, “Break time.”
Stiles laughed as he took in all their positions, “Well don’t you all look
comfy.” He remarked as he walked over, Elle still under his arm. Derek followed
silently, feeling a little out of place.
“Don’t think you’ll all get break time when we’re actually being attacked,”
Petter commented loftily from where he was reading at the kitchen table. Erica
growled in response and burrowed her nose into Miles’ neck, sniffing. She
smiled, “You smell kind of good, too…crisp and deep, like cedar and musk.”
Miles snorted, shifting so she could snuggle closer, “I think that’s my sweat
you’re smelling.”
“Mmrph, don’t care.” She mumbled, sighing in pleasure as Miles rubbed up and
down her bare arm.
Suddenly, Jackson poked his head up to look at the two Alphas, “Hey wait, how
come it’s only been us training? Shouldn’t you guys be training, too?”
Stiles shrugged, “Haven’t thought about it. But honestly, I know the people
we’re after, so I don’t need as much training as you guys do.”
The pack seemed to accept this answer and they turned to Derek expectantly.
The Alpha in question huffed, “I don’t need training.”
“Bollocks,” Sebastian interjected, smirking at the glare thrown his way, “I
took you down easily just a week ago, mate. You should be training.”
“I’ve been watching you all. I’ll be fine.” Derek grunted, not liking the
spotlight, “Everyone’s tired anyway.”
“I’m not.” Stiles said, looking at Derek with an annoying shit-eating grin,
“You can spar with me.”
There was a short moment of silence before Miles whooped, “Yes! Alpha fight!”
At this, everyone, including Boyd who had been shaken awake, perked up and
stared at the two.
“Well?” Stiles asked, petting Elle’s hair when she kissed his neck, “Are you up
to it?”
Derek gave him a hard stare, before stepping around him and peeling off his
jacket, throwing it around the back of one of the couches. Stiles grinned in
obvious excitement and pressed a quick kiss to Elle’s forehead before letting
her go. He took his spot across from Derek, pulling_his_sleeves_up and shaking
his arms out.
“Just so you know, I’m not going to go easy on you.” Stiles added, sending a
wink over to Derek, who snarled lightly in response.
The two circled each other, much like their animal counterparts would. When
Stiles let his eyes flash, Derek tensed, and with good reason. Stiles flashed
forward at an amazing speed and curved to the left, aiming a high kick to
Derek’s ribs.
Derek narrowly dodged the attack, grabbing the extended leg and throwing Stiles
back around. The weretiger gracefully twisted midair and landed on its feet and
hands. When he looked up, Derek noticed that Stiles had let himself transform,
and Derek realized that this was the first time he had ever seen Stiles like
this.
His ears were pointed and lightly furred like the rest of his face in a typical
tiger pattern, orange with black stripes and tufts of white. The boy’s pointed
nose was lightly pink, his nostrils now a dark black. His plump lips were a
matching shade of ebony, and Derek could see the fangs poking out from
underneath his upper lip.
It was his eyes, however, that were the most striking.
They were a deep scarlet, rimmed in matte ebony just like his lips, making the
irises stand out against the rest of his face. For a moment, it seemed like
those same eyes were getting closer—
Derek inhaled sharply and just barely missed the blow Stiles had aimed for on
his abdomen by leaping out of the way. He cursed himself for getting distracted
and let his own face transform.
Stiles smirked and flicked his tail—wait, when did he get a tail?—before
charging once again.
They pounced on one another again and again, neither of them truly landing hits
but getting the work out of their lives dodging one another. At one point,
Stiles managed to catch one of Derek’s fists headed for his chest with one
hand, and Derek caught a hold of Stiles’ other hand that had been flying
towards his face.
They were caught in a locked position, both unable to really move.
Stiles caught Derek’s eye through their arms, raising an eyebrow and licking
his lips, “Not bad.”
Derek grunted and found himself drawn to Stiles’ ebony lips once again as a
light pink tongue licked over them sensually, wetting them.
He suddenly gasped as his legs were kicked from beneath him and he landed hard
on his back, feeling the wind get knocked out of him in his shock. He looked up
to see Stiles now straddling his hips, using his knees to lock his legs down
and his hands to hold his arms up over his head.
Stiles cocked his head, smiling mischievously, “Oh Derek…don’t you remember
lesson 1?”
They heard Peter holler from the other side, obviously fighting back the urge
to laugh, “Never so get easily distracted that you can’t track a cat’s
movements!”
With the boy’s warm body atop his, Derek didn’t have the strength to be
embarrassed, so he just nodded stiffly. This boy’s smell was intoxicating. It
smelled like it was suddenly getting stronger and stronger, and a low growl
emanated from Derek’s throat in response.
He noticed how Stiles’ eyes widened, his features shifting back to human, and a
flush started to creep up his neck. Derek sincerely hoped that the boy didn’t
decide to scoot down, because if he did, he would certainly feel his arousal,
as if he couldn’t smell it already.
Stiles looked like he was about to move and do exactly that, when Scott’s phone
suddenly rang, jolting most of the wolves awake.
The alpha werecat leapt off of Derek like a frightened kitten at the sound. He
backed up until his body was against one of the pillars, breathing roughly and
eyes bright red.
Scott, looking adorably rumpled, scrambled for his phone and answered it
tiredly.
Derek quickly stood up from his position on the ground, trying to readjust
himself and clear his mind, but Stiles’ smell was still all over him. God, the
air around them just wreaked of Stiles’ scent. He just—he had to—
“Wait, what?” Scott’s voice cut in, clutching his phone worriedly, “Yeah,
okay…okay.” He hung up and looked straight at Derek, “There’s been another
murder. Same scratch marks and everything.”
Derek looked torn between wanting to go find out what happened and wanting to
stay here to…do god knows what.
Sebastian gently eased Isaac’s head off of his lap, “Here, we should all go.
C’mon.”
As the pack started to get up from the couch, Sebastian lightly grasped Lydia’s
arm, who was suddenly extremely alert to the stench in the room.
“You stay here with Stiles. I’ll keep Derek at bay. Go, now, take him.” He
pressed, his eyes darting around to his other two packmates who were quickly
ushering the wolves out the door. He watched as Miles shook his head and
shushed Erica when the girl’s face scrunched and asked quietly, “Why does it
smell like sex?”
Lydia nodded in response to Bas and rushed over to Stiles’ quivering form,
quickly pushing him away from the other Alpha and out of the room. Derek moved
to follow him but was stopped by a hand on his chest. He turned to Sebastian
and growled menacingly.
“Easy, Derek,” Sebastian said slowly, “C’mon, we need to get to the crime
scene. Stiles can’t be there because his father will most likely be present.
Lets go.”
Derek clenched his fists, before turning and quickly heading out the door.
Sebastian exhaled deeply, looking incredibly exhausted, and followed him out.
                                     -x-x-
“It’s almost the same thing, except this victim was strapped to a chair with
the obvious killing blow being the slash to her neck.” Deaton explained in a
hushed voice outside of the house where the murder had taken place. The two
packs (excluding Lydia and Stiles) were present, listening closely to Deaton’s
rundown of events.
“Scott? Alan?”
The packs froze when the Sheriff walked over, looking perplexed, “What are you
guys doing here?” he asked, eyeing large group.
Deaton quickly covered for them, “They’re just here like everyone else,” he
explained, gesturing to the crowd of concerned neighbors at the crime scene, “I
was just giving them an abridged version of events, Sheriff.”
John nodded, seeming to accept this answer, when he noticed the four unfamiliar
faces among the group. “Who are these guys? I haven’t seen you around.”
“Oh, they’re from my school!” Scott immediately cut in, “Well, I mean these two
are.” he gestured to Miles and Elle, “This is Miles and Elle, and this is
Sebastian…he’s my tutor…for…uh” he trailed off, panicking for an answer.
“Chemistry, sir,” Sebastian cut in smoothly, holding a hand out, “We’re new in
town. I normally just tutor Miles and Elle here, but when Scott asked for help,
I couldn’t decline.”
The Sheriff stared at the man for a second before relenting and shaking his
hand, nodding, “Well, I wish I could say welcome to Beacon Hills, but this
isn’t really the best place to do it considering the uh, the situation.”
Sebastian smiled, “It’s completely fine, sir, thank you for the kind gesture.
We were just passing by and happened to notice the commotion, is all.” He let
the smile fall off his face and replaced it with a concerned expression,
“Doctor Deaton here tells me that someone you knew was just murdered here.”
The Sheriff glanced over at the scene, an upset frown on his face as he watched
a body bag on a stretcher roll by, “Yeah…well, Beacon Hills is a small town, so
really everybody knows everybody, but Ms. Helena here…she was a close friend of
mine.” He murmured.
“I’m very sorry for your loss, sir.”
John nodded, sighing tiredly and rubbing a hand over his face, “Well, I gotta
get back to the station to take a few statements. I’ll see you all around.”
The group watched him leave, waiting until he had gotten into his patrol car
before Deaton spoke again, “I’m going to try to examine the body again, just to
make sure that any werecat DNA won’t be found. If I could borrow Scott and
maybe Isaac, that’d be great.”
 Derek nodded, “That would be fine. Erica, Jackson, Boyd…you three scout the
premises and see if you can track the scent of whatever did this.”
Sebastian looked to Elle and Miles, “You two go with them. They’ll need a
little help to identify certain track marks that they may have left behind.
I’ll stick with Derek here; we’ll check over the scene after everyone leaves.”
About three hours later, the sun had already completely set and the
streetlights blinked on. The scene had finally been cleared, though there was
still plenty of caution tape everywhere. Sebastian and Derek ducked underneath
the tape and headed inside to observe the surroundings.
Immediately upon entering, Derek scrunched his nose up. Sebastian smirked,
“Seeing that your sense of smell is stronger than mine, I can’t imagine the
stench taking up your nostrils right now mate,” he chuckled, “The Torres’s
always leave a pongy where ever they go.”
Derek raised an eyebrow at the word choice.
“They basically stink up the place.” Sebastian corrected, forgetting that the
man probably knew nothing of British slang.
Turning back around, Derek sniffed a bit, “Stiles said there were two of them?”
“Yeah, that’s right. Brother and sister.”
Derek hadn’t thought much about saying Stiles’ name, but now that he did, he
felt his temperature start to shoot up. His heart rate accelerated and he had
to pause in his movements in order to keep himself steady.
“Whoa there buddy…” Sebastian said, backing up a little, “might wanna calm
those hormones down; you’re burning my nose.”
The Alpha panted a little, “What did he do to me?” he growled, turning to look
at Sebastian.
“What did he do to you? Ah, mate, this is something that you both did to each
other.”
Sebastian suddenly found himself pinned to the wall with bright red eyes
staring back at him. Derek clutched the collar of Sebastian’s silver_shirt,
“What. Did. He. Do.”
With an irritated growl, Sebastian spoke, “You’re both in heat.” He looked down
at where Derek was holding him, “You mind letting go? I hate it when my clothes
get wrinkled and you’re getting your sex scent all over it.”
Derek blinked and let go, “Alphas don’t go in heat…”
Sebastian brushed out the small wrinkles and looked at him with a raised
eyebrow, “You should know better than I do that Alphas can most certainly go
into heat if one of them triggers it.”
“But that’s only if—“
“—If they find a compatible scent.” Sebastian nodded, grinning at Derek, “Seems
like you both appeal to each other. Though you both probably could’ve picked a
better time than this.”
“We’re both Alphas—“
“So? There’s been plenty of Alpha pairs before—“
“—and he’s a werecat.”
Sebastian cocked his head, “…And?” Staring at the Alphas confused face, he
groaned, “Oh my god, its not like its rocket science. Werecreatures crossbreed
and crossmate all the time; why is this so hard to understand? Yours and Stiles
scents are compatible with one another, so your bodies naturally triggered your
heat cycles. If it really bothers you, which earlier it didn’t seem like it
did, just give it a couple of hours and it’ll wear off. For now.”
“Why just ‘for now’?”
“Well, unless you fuck the heat out of him, it’s only ever going to be ‘for
now’ until he catches your scent again and you his.”
Derek groaned, “I don’t even know him.”
“Jesus—this isn’t some romantic comedy. This is our animalistic nature, Derek.
Wolves and wild cats don’t exactly get to know one another before sniffing each
others arses and mounting them.” Sebastian reasoned exasperatedly, “Heat is a
primal instinct, Derek, just like the need to find a pack is. Your inner animal
isn’t going to be satisfied until that desire is filled. Honestly, I don’t
fucking care. Have a rumpy pumpy with Stiles on the fucking coffee table if you
need to. Just don’t touch my car.”
The werelion watched as Derek buried his face in his hands, looking like he was
having some sort of internal battle with himself. Sebastian shook his head,
“Lets just stop talking about sex right now and continue doing what we’re
supposed to be doing then, yeah?”
                                     -x-x-
“Stiles, I swear to God—“
“Shut up, you don’t even believe in God—“
“Doesn’t make the expression any less serious—damn it, would you slow down?
Where are you even going?” Lydia hissed, jumping trees with Stiles far ahead,
“You better not be following Derek’s scent or I’ll—“
“Chill the fuck out,” Stiles growled, stopping on a branch so he could turn to
look at her as she landed next to him, “I’m trying to help track Seth and
Olivia. I’m not going to stay at home just because I’m horny.”
Lydia huffed, “Well you should’ve because you wreak and you’re unfocused right
now anyway.”
Stiles rolled his eyes and continued hopping branches, “I’m just fine.”
“No you’re not. I can see your fucking hard on through your jeans, Stiles, it’s
obvious.”
“Just because I’m still horny as fuck doesn’t mean that I can’t be focused.”
“I beg to differ.”
“Well I beg to—“
Stiles suddenly yelped as the branch in front of him snapped and he flailed in
the air. He managed to land roughly on all fours and found that he had tumbled
onto a patch of road.
Bright lights came into his vision, and he barely leaped out of the way to
avoid being hit by a car. The car braked immediately and the driver came out.
Stiles looked up and froze as he met the shocked eyes of his father.
“…Stiles?” John Stilinski croaked, unmoving, just a couple of feet away.
The Alpha didn’t even think and quickly darted back into the forest.
“Stiles! No, Stiles wait! Come back!” The Sheriff called frantically, running
after him. He took out his flashlight and looked around the darkness of the
forest, “Stiles! Stiles, where are you? Stiles!” he called, feeling his throat
grow sore from his yelling.
Finding nothing, the Sheriff lowered his flashlight and headed back to his car.
Upon entering, he sat still for a while before promptly bursting into tears.
His chest heaved with heavy sobs as he once again relived the loss of his son.
He clutched the steering wheel and laid his head upon it, crying himself hoarse
at the memory of his son’s face the night he ran away, and the mysterious
reappearance that he could’ve sworn that he saw just minutes ago.
He didn’t know if he was going insane, but it damn sure felt like it.
From a few feet away, up high in a tree, Stiles had his back to the bark, a
hand clutched over his own mouth, crying as he overheard his fathers sobs.
Lydia was next to him, holding him gently, her usual aloof façade broken for
the sake of comforting her Alpha.
Stiles shook, his sobs muffled by his hand. Lydia grasped his arm, “…Lets go
back home, Stiles.”
                                     -x-x-
Sebastian checked his phone as it buzzed with a new text.
From: Puma 9:34:51pm
  Out with Tigger. Had a run in with his father. We’re going back home.
Sebastian cursed and typed out a response.
To: Puma 9:35:09pm
  Fuck. What happened? Why was he even out?
From: Puma 9:35:23pm
  Wanted to help. His dad saw him, but he just ran off. He’s upset.
I’m taking him home. Have you found anything?
To: Puma 9:36:01pm
  Nope not yet. Still looking and busy babysitting Horny the Werewolf over
here.
Sebastian paused, before sending out another text quickly after the last.
  When you get back home, leave Tigger there alone and head back out.

I’m about to send Mr. Horny back home.
We’ll tell the pack to scout around for a little while longer.
He waited for a moment before his phone buzzed furiously.
From: Puma 9:37:11pm
  ???!!!
  What?!
  Are you sure that’s a good idea?
To: Puma 9:37:32pm
  Would you rather have to deal with the scent of sex for a couple more days?
From: Puma 9:37:59pm
  …Good point. Alright fine. Whatever.
Smirking, Sebastian slid his phone back into his jean pocket. “Hey Derek,” he
called, getting the wolf’s attention, “We should head back. Lydia’s out with
the others, so I’m going to meet up with her. You should, uh, get some rest and
wash off that stench.”
Derek glared at him, but otherwise nodded and began to head out the door.
Sebastian went to follow, but a photograph caught his eye. A framed picture of
a young Stiles and his father, the Sheriff, was hung up on the wall. His eyes
widened and he rushed outside to tell Derek, but the Alpha had already
disappeared.
“Fuck.” Sebastian muttered to himself, before running to go find the others.
                                     -x-x-
Derek stood underneath the shower spray, trying to cool himself down though it
wasn’t exactly doing an effective job. He felt like his veins were on fire and
no matter how cold he set the water, it didn’t subside. Nor did the ridiculous
erection that he had.
Growling to himself, Derek finished his shower and stepped out, wrapping a
towel around his waist and heading out to his bed.
He changed into a soft grey Henley and a pair of sweats and picked up his dirty
clothes to put them in the hamper, which was by the window.
Crouching down to pick them up, he froze when he picked up his shirt. Pressing
it to his face, he groaned wantonly as the scent of Stiles wafted into his
nostrils, sending his body temperature through the roof.
He felt possessed.
Derek, without his permission, stalked out of his loft, still barefoot, climbed
the stairs, and approached loft 267. He pressed his face to the rusty steel
door, giving a quiet whimper, as even from here, he could smell Stiles heat.
He jumped as his phone buzzed suddenly. Weakly reaching into his sweatpant
pocket, he read the text
From: Sexy Kitten 9:57:49pm
  Are you just going to stand out there, or are you going to come in here and
fuck me?
Derek felt like his brain just broke. He barely noticed himself shoving the
door open, and he found himself just about a foot and a half away from the
other Alpha, both of their eyes an intense scarlet. Stiles’ scent completely
engulfed him at this point, and Derek could feel the final bits of his control
breaking.
Stiles, still wearing his clothes from the day, though his shirt was visibly
soaked with sweat, cocked his head just slightly, his sweat-drenched hair
falling out of place, “Hey big boy.” He husked, and just like that, the dam of
control broke.
Derek leaped.
Chapter End Notes
     Next Chapter: Heat! Argents! Bad cats! STILINSKI REUNION!
     I know, I know, I know...I left you on a really mean cliffhanger. I'M
     SORRY! I promise you, though, the wait will be worth it. Please wait
     for me you guys!
     I'll still be on tumblr when I can, so you can hit me up there, or
     you can find Stiles and ask him and his pack questions! Go! He loves
     hearing from you guys.<3
***** Heat *****
Chapter Notes
     A/N: WOO finally got this posted. Thank you so much for waiting! BY
     THE WAY, I had a really hard time deciding if "Stiles'" or "Stiles's"
     was right, so I just stuck with the first one. I'm sorry if it annoys
     you but really, it would take me forever trying to figure out which
     one to use if I kept asking.
     Also, this chapter marks the VERY FIRST TIME I've ever written
     anything close to gay smut. Don't get me wrong, I've read plenty of
     it (don't judge, I mean hello, it's STEREK) but I've never written
     any. So, that being said, I apologize if the scene itself is rather
     shoddy.
     Remember, Stiles was NOT there during the Kanima ordeal. I know it's
     hard to imagine but humor me and just go with it.
      
     I ADDED SOME TAGS because I evidently made someone uncomfortable with
     the idea of Stiles topping sometimes. I don't intend on changing
     that, so there's your warning. I apologize for not adding it sooner.
     ----
     This is unbeta'ed. I apologize for any errors.
     Disclaimer: Aside from the plot and the original characters that I
     mention, I do not own anything.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Derek’s body slammed into Stiles with such a force, propelling them both across
the room. Stiles gasped as his back roughly met the wall behind him, which
quickly morphed into a low moan as their bodies rubbed together. The smell of
both of their arousals and scents engulfed them, and they raised their eyes to
meet one another, scarlet red into scarlet red.
Without any sense of caution, Stiles lunged forward and captured Derek’s lips
in a bruising kiss. Neither one could tell who moaned first, but as the taste
of one another touched their palette, the thought completely vanished from
their minds.
Stiles, feeling his own Alpha instincts kicking in, pushed off the wall and
violently shoved Derek against it instead. He growled and shredded Derek’s
shirt with elongated claws. He felt the wolf tense slightly at the feel of the
razor sharp claws and he chuckled breathily, “No venom. Only comes out if I
want it too.”
He buried his face in Derek’s neck and inhaled deeply, growling deep in his
throat as his body heated up. An answering growl rumbled out of the chest
against his face and Stiles purred in delight as Derek effortlessly hauled him
up and crushed him to his bare chest.
Their lips met again, sloppy and passionate and absolutely wanton. Stiles
groaned as he felt clawed hands squeeze his ass through the tight jeans. He
weaved a hand into Derek’s dark mane, gripped, and yanked him away. Derek
gasped at the sting of arousal that shot through his body at the action. Stiles
smirked, having seen the reaction he brought out, “I just thought you should
know…I may be in heat, but I’m no one’s bitch.” he panted, shamelessly grinding
down on Derek’s hardened length through the sweats and relishing in the moan it
brought forth, “I am an Alpha.”
Stiles gasped as Derek suddenly moved and slammed him against a small table
nearby, hearing the legs creak in protest to the impact. He met Derek’s glowing
red eyes in both trepidation and excitement. The opposite Alpha grinned
wolfishly, “So am I.”
With that, Derek reached up and rent the t-shirt Stiles wore in two and dove
down to mouth and bite at the pale skin, his instincts screaming at him to
scent, mark, claim.
The younger Alpha squirmed beneath him, his own instincts growling at him to
take control but at the same time purring in contentment at the dominance being
forced upon him. He felt his entire body throb at each little bite against his
throat and he clutched at Derek's back, scratching shallow lines into the skin.
Derek pulled back and hissed, feeling his own arousal throb in response, and
Stiles took the opportunity to reclaim Derek's swollen lips in another kiss.
"Mmph, god, I need you to fuck me." Stiles panted against his lips, his arms
tightening where they were wrapped around Derek's neck, "Need you inside me.
Need you to knot me, baby."
Derek let out something akin to a roar as he pulled back from Stiles’
persistent lips, letting his claws tear into the other boy's red jeans and
underwear, ridding them from the his body. Almost instantly, Derek dove down
and buried his face into Stiles’ crotch where the scent was the strongest, and
with a strained whine, he lifted his head up and swallowed him down.
"Fuck!" Stiles yelped, hands flailing before one settled on the back of Derek's
head and the other gripping the edge of the table. His legs dangled on the edge
of the table uselessly, and he couldn't stop the flood of noises coming out of
his mouth from Derek's ministrations.
Stiles looked down through hooded red eyes, watching as Derek slurped and
moaned along his length, saliva making his lips and Stiles' dick shine and
reflect the moonlight from the window. Gripping his hair, Stiles wrenched Derek
away from him for the second time, relishing in the pleasured whine that
erupted from Derek's throat.
"Can't keep doing that," Stiles panted, pulling him up to crash their lips
together. He moaned at the taste of himself on the other's lips, "Want you to
be inside me when I come, big boy."
Derek growled in agreement, gripping Stiles’ bare ass and lifting him from the
table before sinking down onto the floor. The movement caused Derek's fingers
to brush over Stiles’ sensitive hole, making a small moan leave the younger
Alpha’s mouth. Derek’s eyebrows furrowed in slight confusion at the feeling of
wetness coating his fingertips.
Stiles laughed softly at his expression, humming, “Us cats…we kind of come with
our own brand of lube. Package deal. Makes it so much easier.”
The older Alpha’s eyes widened slightly, and he immediately shoved in two
fingers to the knuckle. The werecat hissed in response, but almost instantly
relaxed and rolled his hips. Stiles met Derek’s eyes and smirked softly, “Can’t
wait to get you inside me.”
The werecat gasped as he watched canines lengthen from the other Alpha, and he
lurched forward to scrabble at Derek’s pants. Taking his fingers out, Derek
shoved his hands away and pulled the pants off himself, letting the hard flesh
rub against Stiles’ soaked hole.
Stiles whimpered softly, rolling his hips eagerly onto the length and growling
quietly each time it caught. Derek reached up and gripped the boy’s hips
tightly, “All fours. Now.”
Instinctively, Stiles growled at the command but obliged as his animalistic
hormones took control. Steadying himself on his hands and knees, Stiles spread
his legs wide apart, presenting himself, and turned his head back to look at
Derek with a wild grin.
“Mount me, big boy.” He purred, raising his ass.
Derek snarled and gripped the hips tighter at the words. Positioning himself,
he finally shoved inside without warning, meeting little resistance and
groaning at the feeling.
Stiles let out a guttural moan as Derek entered his body, the hard length
swiftly filling him up in his most intimate area and just barely rubbing
against his prostate. He felt Derek lean down and felt his breath linger along
the back of his neck, and for a moment Stiles wondered why the hell the guy
wasn’t moving. And then he thought about it again and sighed in realization
that oh...the guy was hesitating a little. Afraid that he would hurt him.
“C’mon, big boy,” Stiles whispered hoarsely, feeling his body tingle and
raising a shaky hand to rest on the clawed one of his ma—Derek, “let go. Do it.
Do me. Please.”
At the soft whispers of encouragement, Stiles knew and felt the moment Derek
completely let himself go. The other man stiffened and Stiles could feel
Derek’s face transform on the back of his neck. With an inhuman growl, Derek
gripped his hips, pulled back and snapped his hips forward, burying himself
deep once again.
Stiles choked and didn’t bother holding back his cries as Derek’s hips
continuously snapped into him, bruising his ass with harsh marks. He felt his
own features transform as Derek’s claws dug into his hips, sending scorching
hot pain and arousal through his veins. His tail sprouted out from his lower
back and instinctively wrapped itself around Derek’s waist, pulling him closer
and deeper inside him.
The Alpha in Stiles growled and struggled and snapped at Derek, wanting
control. Derek seemed to sense this and growled right back, opening his mouth
and snapping it closed on the back of Stiles’ neck. The younger Alpha wailed
and whimpered at the demand of submission, claws scrabbling at the hardwood as
Derek continued to pound into him with reckless abandon.
Derek reached forward and snatched Stiles’ hands away, pinning them between
their bodies and growled with his teeth still lodged in the flesh of Stiles’
neck.
Stiles whined at the strained muscles in his arms, feeling his climax draw near
as his dick swayed back and forth beneath him with every harsh thrust of
Derek’s hips. He inhaled sharply when he felt the blunt push of Derek’s knot
against the rim of his ass.
“Do it, knot me. God fuck, knot me, baby, please.” He cried, yelping as Derek
suddenly started to jab against his prostate.
With a few more thrusts, Derek released Stiles’ neck and, with a great push,
shoved his knot inside. Stiles’ breath hitched at the stretch as the knot
pressured down on his prostate and, with a harsh yell, his climax slammed into
him and he came onto the hardwood floor beneath him, his cock remaining
completely untouched. Derek continued to roll his hips, and when Stiles
tightened his muscles, he let out a loud, claiming howl as he, too, fell over
the edge.
Stiles let his head drop onto the wood and moaned weakly at the feeling of
Derek’s come filling him up and his knot keeping him firmly in place. He sighed
when Derek leaned back down to lick gently at the already healing bitemark on
the back of his neck. Derek’s clawed hands reverted back to human, allowing the
puncture wounds to also heal, and the rest of his and Stiles’ body followed
suit until they were both mostly human.
Mostly. I mean there was still a knot inside him, for God’s sake.
Stiles didn’t try to move too much—he didn’t want to jostle the knot and hurt
himself—but he couldn’t deny that his knees were feeling a bit raw. Apparently
sensing this, Derek wrapped a strong arm around Stiles’ waist and gingerly
turned and lowered them onto their sides against the floor. He rubbed the
inside of Stiles’ thigh, to which the other hummed contentedly in response.
It was quiet for a little while, aside from their panting breaths. Derek broke
it with a soft comment, “…That’s a lot of come.”
Stiles snorted, “Yeah. It’s just a thing. Just…just a thing.”
He let himself purr quietly as Derek peppered tiny kisses across his shoulder.
Whether he was doing that by instinct or by choice, Stiles didn’t know nor care
at the moment.
“I didn’t intend for this to happen…just so you know.” Stiles murmured, turning
his head a little to look at Derek.
Derek raised an eyebrow, “I don’t think anyone does.” He replied, his animal
instincts still running through his veins.
The two stared at each other, feeling an odd sort of tenderness settle into
their hearts. A bond?
Stiles broke the gaze to look around and chuckle, “Bas is going to be so pissed
at me for fucking in the living room.”
“Pretty boy can deal with it.” Derek grumbled, leaning down and nipping softly
at Stiles’ jaw. Stiles turned back to him and smiled softly, and neither
hesitated when their lips met in a gentle kiss.
Eventually, Derek’s knot went down and he pulled out slowly, a small hiss of
loss leaving Stiles’ lips at the feeling.
“We should probably get to your bed.” Derek mumbled.
“That requires moving, though.”
“It does.”
Stiles pondered for a moment, before a devilish smirk took over his face, “If
we go back to the bed, can it be my turn?” he purred sultrily, raising an
eyebrow.
Derek could only whimper in response.
                                     -x-x-
Sebastian could smell the stench of sex the moment the elevator dinged open
onto his floor. He scrunched his nose up and reached a hand to cover it,
groaning and wishing that he had at least thought to stop by the store to grab
a Fabreeze or something.
At the same time, he was both curious and concerned as to why he was able to
smell it so distinctly from such a distance. Though his sense of smell was
heightened, he shouldn’t be able to if—
Oh.
Sebastian cursed under his breath as he approached the open door to the loft.
He crossed the threshold and pulled the door closed, praying that their
neighbors managed to get some sleep because he doubted that the two had been
quiet the night before.
Taking in his surroundings, he noted that one of the small sofa tables was
toppled over, a few picture frames had fallen to the floor, and scattered
papers were littered everywhere. Sebastian scrubbed a hand over his face. Of
course they would destroy the living room. Of course.
He stepped around, picking up some of the fallen frames and papers as he went.
Setting them down, he pulled the sofa table back up and, just as he was
stepping back, his foot landed on something slick and Sebastian flailed
slightly before catching himself.
He looked down.
White.
Sebastian just stepped on a puddle of Stiles’ come.
The lion lifted his head up and clenched his fists, willing the diva-like
scream back as he lifted his Alexander McQueen boot-clad foot off of the
puddle. He snatched one of the cheap throw pillows from the couch and angrily
wiped the bottom of his shoe before throwing it onto the puddle.
“Fucking deviants…” he growled lowly, toeing his shoes off. He began to
approach Stiles’ bedroom, pausing when he heard a noise. Listening a little
closer, he fought back a growl of annoyance when he realized that it was a low
moan, quickly followed by a snarl that was definitely Stiles.
He checked his watch, 7:34am.
Really? Honestly?
Sebastian felt his patience snap and he stalked towards the door and slapped
his hand against it, “You fuckers finish right now! Stiles! I need you out
here!”
There was another snarl and a whimper, and god fucking damn it, the fuckers
were drawing the damn thing out.
With a growl, Sebastian pushed the door open. The two men didn’t even seem to
address his entrance. Stiles had Derek pinned face down onto the bed, sharpened
fangs digging into the back of his neck, and from under the sheet, Sebastian
could easily make out Stiles’ hips moving steadily back and forth with
torturous thrusts.
“I swear to God,” Sebastian grumbled, “this is serious. I need to talk to you,
Stiles…hell, did you two even sleep?”
It was then that Stiles’ bright red eyes shot up to meet him and his upper lip
curled up, growling menacingly. He dug clawed nails into Derek’s shoulders and
began snapping his hips down hard, causing the other Alpha to curse and whine
where his face was turned to the side on the bed, eyes hooded and red and mouth
open in heat-consumed bliss.
“Oh bloody hell, Stiles. I’m serious. I need to talk to you so hurry the fuck
up.”
Stiles released Derek’s neck and snarled at Sebastian, “If you don’t leave
right now, I am going to come on your stupid designer shirt.”
Derek seemed to whine at that, protesting the idea of Stiles coming anywhere
but inside him. Stiles immediately leaned forward and shushed the other Alpha,
grinding his hips and smirking when Derek moaned brokenly.
Sebastian threw his hands up, “Fine. Ten more minutes. Just hurry up, god damn
it.”
He left the room, rolling his eyes as the sound of skin slapping against skin
suddenly became more pronounced, along with the volume of both of the Alpha’s
noises.
“And for the record, I already stepped in your come this morning. You’re on
house cleaning duty today, you mongrel.” He called before closing the door
behind him. He walked over to one of the couches, plopped down with a sigh and
waited.
About twenty minutes later, both Stiles and Derek emerged from the bedroom,
hair ruffled and messy and faces flushed. A blind person would be able to tell
what had happened last night.
Derek took one of the armchairs nearby, and Sebastian rolled his eyes when
Stiles dropped himself in Derek’s lap, like it was something he did all the
time. The werewolf appeared startled for a moment, but Sebastian watched him
relax slowly as Stiles buried his face in his neck. A soft moan left Derek’s
mouth as Stiles nipped gently at his neck, and to Sebastian’s surprise, he
tipped his head back in momentary submission, allowing Stiles to kiss and nip
around his pulse point.
Interesting as it all was, there were more important things to discuss.
“Stiles,” Sebastian started, trying and failing to get his Alpha’s attention,
“I found something last night and we really need to talk about this.”
“So talk.” Stiles mumbled into Derek’s neck, kissing along the heated skin
gently. Sebastian growled in frustration and decided that a straightforward
explanation was the only way to truly grab his attention.
“Your father is in danger, Stiles.”
Just like that, Stiles immediately went rigid and Derek froze beneath him.
Sebastian could’ve sworn that he could hear the minute cracks in Stiles’ neck
as the Alpha turned to face him, eyes flashing red.
“And what the fuck do you mean by that, Sebastian?” Stiles asked lowly, and
Sebastian felt a bit unnerved at the usage of his full name and the intense
stare that was being leveled at him.
Sebastian sighed and rubbed his hands together, “Does the name Ms. Helena ring
a bell to you at all, Stiles?”
The elder werecat watched as Stiles’s eye twitched and recognition dulled the
red in his eyes.
“She was the latest victim,” Sebastian explained, “after Derek left, I found a
picture hanging on the wall. It was of you and your father.”
Stiles swallowed hard and clenched his jaw but kept his expression stern as he
listened.
“It was in plain view for me to see…so I can only imagine that Olivia or Seth
managed to see it as well.” Sebastian continued, raising remorseful eyes to his
Alpha, “I know that you didn’t want to have to do this but Stiles…you have to
tell him.”
“No.” Stiles ground out, fists clenching.
“Stiles, it’s the only way to keep him safe.” Sebastian tried to reason.
“The way to keep him safe was to keep him out of the god damned loop!” Stiles
snapped, eyes shocking and filled with conflicting emotions, “That was the
plan, Bas. We would come here, take out the threat and then leave. No one,
aside from the wolves, would have to know of my existence. Especially not my
father.”
Stiles felt Derek tense at his words, but he ignored it for the moment.
“I know that, Stiles. I know that that was the plan. But we also expected to
find Seth and Olivia earlier than we have. We haven’t. We’ve underestimated
them—“
“—there’s nothing to underestimate, they’re weak—“
“You damn well that that isn’t true.” Sebastian cut off angrily; choosing to
ignore the heavy glare Stiles sent his way, “Don’t be naïve, Stiles. You know
better. Ignorant they may be, but weak they are not. Their family line is
strong, just like mine. You go in half-cocked like you are right now, you’ll be
putting not just your pack but Derek’s pack in danger as well.”
Stiles growled lowly and averted his eyes, not enjoying the fact that Sebastian
was making a very valid point.
Sebastian sighed deeply, looking genuinely repentant, “You have to tell your
father, Stiles.”
Derek could feel the young Alpha’s hand tremble and he began to reach out to
grasp it, before deciding against it.
“…Either you tell him, or I will.”
Stiles’ eyes shot to Sebastian, giving him a murderous glare. Sebastian simply
stared back, waiting patiently for an answer.
Instead, Stiles pushed himself up off of the couch and Derek’s lap and stalked
off to the bedroom, every muscle tensed and radiating pure unbridled emotion.
Derek watched him leave, and glanced at Sebastian when the werelion sighed
wearily and scrubbed a hand over his face. He turned to him, “Please make sure
he does it,” he said, keeping Derek’s gaze, “I do not want to have to do it
myself, but if I must then I will.”
With that, Sebastian rose from the couch and headed towards the kitchen, taking
a kettle out of the cupboard, “Your pack is back at your loft…they came back
around four in the morning and they decided to camp out at your place. Mine
spent the night on watch at Stiles’ house.” He explained along his way.
He heard a distant grunt in response, and he shook his head, filling the kettle
with water and turning on the burner, “Do you want any tea?” he called.
When he heard no response, Sebastian peeked his head out to see that Derek was
no longer in the living room, his scent instead leading into Stiles’ bedroom.
He shook his head, “So we’ve got a broody wolf and a mercurial tiger,” he
mumbled, digging out some tea leaves, “what a pair we have here.”
                                     -x-x-
Derek stood silently a couple of feet away from Stiles, who was simmering at
his place looking out the window. The young Alpha had his arms crossed, a hand
brought up and was chewing on a sharpened claw. Derek couldn’t see it, but it
was easy to guess that Stiles was right on the edge of transforming, what with
his sharpened fangs and claws and bright red irises.
“You know he’s right.” Derek spoke up, crossing his own arms, “I told you
before. He deserves to know that—“
“Oh don’t pull the moral shit on me, Derek,” Stiles hissed without turning back
around, “you have no say on that whatsoever.”
Derek’s eyes hardened into a glare.
“That gaze burns a little, feels nice,” Stiles says bitchily, “you wanna stare
at my right side to warm me up evenly?”
“Don’t get catty with me.”
“I’m a Tiger, Derek, its kind of what I do.”
Derek growled, “Keeping your father in the dark is putting him in more risk,
especially if those two know who he is to you and they’re deliberately trying
to hurt you!”
“And why the fuck would you care?” Stiles snapped, whipping around to pin him
with a fierce glare, “You know nothing about me. Scott, okay fine, I can
understand why he’d be worried because the dude was my best friend before I
left. But you? Sure, yes, we fucked a couple times last night but that’s it. I
can take care of my own damn self, thank you very fucking much.”
Derek’s hands clenched and he bristled, ignoring the pang in his heart at
Stiles’ words.
“You have to make everything about you, don’t you?” Derek began lowly,
continuing before Stiles could make another sassy remark, “What makes you think
I give two shits about what happens to you in the long run?”
Stiles gaze faltered a little, but he held up.
“What happened last night was because of the heat. It was instinct; our
animalistic need to fuck. That’s it. If you die afterwards, guess what, that’s
not my fucking problem. It’s not like it matters anyway; everyone thought you
were dead in the first place so nothing will change around here. Though maybe
then your father can finally have some god damn closure about his son if he’s
able to identify your body.”
Derek knew that his words were flat out lies, words meant to hurt, but right
now so was he and he couldn’t stop himself.
“What I care about is the well-being of this town and the safety of my pack. My
pack. I can’t have people dying here and there and I certainly will not have
the Sheriff die at the hands of two wayward omegas that you didn’t have the
strength to make submit!”
The silence was heavy in the room, and both Alphas could feel it looming over
them as they stared the other down.
Derek snarled and turned around, beginning to head out the door, “I’ll let you
decide whether you want to keep your father alive or not. But I’m not letting
you put my pack at risk. We’ll protect this town from any more threats but as
far as you trying to get those two under control, that’s your own shit for you
to clean up.”
He glared over his shoulder when he reached the doorway of the bedroom, “When
you leave, don’t bother coming back. In fact, make it look like you died. The
smell of your father’s false hope and depression is sickening, and he deserves
some kind of closure instead of this constant spiral of torture you’ve drowned
him in. Have a good fucking life.”
With that, the wolf stormed out of the room. Stiles didn’t flinch as he heard
the steel door to the loft squeal open and slam shut with a force that would
most definitely wake the neighbors.
Stiles’ heart was beating fast, and he was frozen in the position that he was
in, with his arms crossed and still facing the space that Derek had just
vacated. The words stung horribly, but they continuing to ring in his mind
almost mockingly.
“The smell of your father’s false hope and depression is sickening, and he
deserves some kind of closure instead of this constant spiral of torture you’ve
drowned him in.”
Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t bother addressing Sebastian when he poked his
head in the room with a steaming cup of herbal tea. The werelion gingerly set
the cup down on a nearby dresser and approached his Alpha, whose eyes weren’t
focused on anything at all. He pressed a gentle kiss to Stiles’ forehead,
smiling sadly when he felt the boy flinch, “Stop this, Stiles. Stop with all of
this self-sacrificial pain. You deserve to be happy, too.” He whispered quietly
along the boy’s forehead.
Stiles dropped his head onto Sebastian’s shoulder, closing his eyes and sighing
through his nose when the Beta stroked a soothing hand through his hair. They
stayed like that for a moment before Stiles stepped away and walked around
Sebastian, “Gonna shower. Still smell like sex.” Was his mumbled explanation as
he left Sebastian standing there.
Sebastian eyed his retreating form and shook his head with a tender smile. He
walked back to the dresser and picked up his cup of tea, sipping it delicately
and leaning against the doorframe, waiting.
                                     -x-x-
Derek entered his own loft, greeted by the sight of his betas curled up
together in the living room, fast asleep. Despite himself, he found himself
smiling slightly at the sight and his heart ached a little when he thought back
to his family, the original Hale pack. They used to cuddle up together the same
way, usually after some kind of battle. It was…reassurance, Derek supposed, the
overwhelming need to convince themselves that they were all still here.
But they weren’t. Derek had no family left. So this pack, this pack of
teenagers he created…they would have to do. And that was just fine.
Shaking his head, Derek settled for making himself a cup of coffee, walking to
the kitchen counter and turning on the coffee machine.
Only a few minutes passed and Derek heard someone snuffle awake, and when he
turned, he noticed a rumpled and sleepy looking Scott stand up on wobbly legs.
The Beta turned and perked up a little at the sight of his Alpha and quickly
shuffled over, careful not to wake up the rest of the pack.
“Hey,” Scott greeted, scrubbing at his eyes.
“Hey,” Derek greeted back, turning back to the coffee machine, “It’s early. You
were up until four. Go back to sleep.”
“Can’t, ‘m already up,” Scott yawned.
Derek grabbed a mug and began to fill it with the freshly brewed coffee, “Do
you want coffee?” he asked, turning to look at Scott. He frowned when he
noticed the scrunched up look on his Beta’s face. “What.”
“Ah—w-what?” Scott stuttered, looking like a deer in headlights at being
caught.
The Alpha raised an eyebrow and held up the coffee pot. Scott looked relieved,
“Oh! Coffee! Yeah, sure…thanks man.”
Scott took the offered mug once it was filled and fiddled with some of the
supplies nearby, ducking his head under the cupboards, making a little ‘aha!’
when he found the sugar and creamer.
“Why were you looking at me like that?”
Scott jolted at the question and slammed his head on the cupboard above him,
yelping in response. He brought his head out and put the ingredients down,
using that hand to rub the back of his head and wincing.
“What?”
“That look. What was that about?”
The Beta’s expression was a myriad of emotions, from anxiety to discomfort to
mild fear, “I-uhm…well you, uh…”
“Scott.”
“You smell like Stiles,” Scott blurted, face flushing, “and…and sex. Like, a
lot.”
Derek blinked in surprise and watched as Scott hurriedly gathered his mug and
the creamer and sugar, babbling something about ‘waking everyone else up’ and
‘thanks for the coffee’ and ‘sorry’ before he scurried away.
The Alpha looked down at himself and sniffed, his own nose scrunching a little
as he realized that yes, he absolutely reeked of the other Alpha. He growled
when his body started to respond in a way he didn’t want it to. The kid was an
obnoxious brat that he, in a moment of weakness, mindlessly submitted to.
And even so, he didn’t find himself regretting it. In fact, he found himself
wanting to do it again.
Derek groaned in frustration and downed the rest of his bitter black coffee.
He needed a fucking shower.
                                     -x-x-
To: Scotty 9:12:03am
  Hey…I need your help with something. Meet me outside in the parking garage?
From: Scotty 9:15:00am
  yeah ok. gimme a sec i just got out of the shower. u ok?
To: Scotty 9:16:12am
  I’m fine.
From: Scotty 9:16:45am
  lol no ur not.
  man it’s saying smthing if i can still tell if ur lying after all this time.
  esp thru txt.
  i’ll be there in five.
                                     -x-x-
“I don’t see why we couldn’t have used the front door, Stiles…”
“That requires my dad to wake up and walk all the way downstairs just to see
someone he hasn’t seen in six years standing on his doorstep. I don’t want him
to have a heart attack, Scott.”
“And creeping in through your window into your old bedroom is going to be a
better image? Dude, the man is the Sheriff; he has a freaking gun. He’s gonna
think we’re burglars!”
“He’s not going to shoot me. I’m his son.”
“That he hasn’t seen for six years! And what about me? I’m still at risk here!”
Stiles, where he was just about to enter his old room through the window,
clenched his jaw and looked back at Scott in annoyance, “Do you want to help me
or not?”
Scott looked helpless, “Of course I do, man, I’m just…I don’t know, concerned.
For you.”
Stiles huffed and went inside, “I’m fine. C’mon.”
“Whatever you say, dude,” Scott sighed, following after, “I just think that—oh
shit!”
Scott caught his foot on the windowsill and promptly rocketed forward and
smacked his face on the carpeted floor with a loud ‘thunk’.
The Sheriff, once asleep in his bedroom, shot up in surprise at the sound. He
pulled the covers off, dressed plainly in sweats and a plain white t-shirt, and
grabbed his gun from the nightstand drawer before running out.
He pulled open his door, holding the gun securely in both hands, “Who’s there?”
he bellowed.
John listened and heard hushed, hissing voices coming…coming from Stiles’ old
room. He crept towards the door, willing his hands not to shake, and with a
deep breath, he reached down and pushed the door open. He felt as if the air
was punched out of his lungs at the sight and he began lowering his gun.
Scott was in the middle of both trying to get off of the floor and trying to
get his foot free from where it was stuck on the open window. Stiles loomed
over him, hissing angry words at his clumsy friend.
Both boys’ attentions shot to the Sheriff the second he opened the door.
Both boys’.
Scott and Stiles.
Stiles.
The boy in question swallowed hard, “Hi Dad.”
The Sheriff was in shock; Stiles was here. His son was standing right here,
just a few feet away from him. Scott was here too, so he couldn’t be imagining
this.
Could he?
He was startled when Scott was suddenly very close to him—when had he
moved?—with his hands raised in a disarming matter, and it was then that the
Sheriff realized that he was still clutching his gun in a tight, albeit shaky,
grasp. He let Scott gently ease the weapon out of his hands and set it on the
bookcase nearby, but the older man’s eyes never left his son.
“…Stiles?” he whispered hoarsely, hoping to God that he wasn’t hallucinating
again and that his son was really here.
His son gave a shy smile and waved weakly, “…Yo.”
It was a gesture so incongruous to the situation, so inherently Stiles, that
the Sheriff felt his chest tighten and the dam holding his tears back break. He
took a step, paused, and then closed the space between himself and his son,
pulling the boy into a tight hug.
“Stiles, oh my god, I—Stiles…” John sobbed, clutching at Stiles’ shirt tightly,
afraid that his boy was going to disappear again.
Stiles buried his nose in the crook of his father’s neck, closing his eyes and
inhaling. He felt tears prick in his own eyes as the scent of familyand home
wafted into his nostrils, and he raised his own arms to hug his father back
just as tightly.
Scott stood to the side with a soft smile on his face. Stiles, remembering that
he was there, began to speak, “Dad, I need to talk to you.” He said, gently
pulling his father away from his neck.
The Sheriff, though surprised at how easily Stiles was able to pry him off of
him, looked back at his son through teary eyes.
“I came back for a reason, Dad…” Stiles began, bracing himself, “…you’re in
danger.”
                                     -x-x-
Miles groaned in exhaustion as he plopped down into the seat of his car,
reaching up and closing the door beside him. Elle giggled as she sat on his lap
sideways, Lydia sliding in on the passenger side, “You tired, Milesy?” she
cooed, reaching forward to lightly massage his shoulders.
He hummed, reaching up to hold one of her hands, “Very.”
“You can be tired all you want once we get back to the loft,” Lydia droned
snootily, “so get driving. And don’t crash the car. Bas just got you this for
your birthday.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Miles mumbled, quirking a smile when Elle settled her
head on his shoulder.
The younger girl glanced out the window, “Miles, you should go…people are
staring.”
Miles glanced out his window and noticed that a couple of teenagers were in
fact staring in awe at his car. He smirked at them and reached around Elle to
put the key in the ignition and started the car. He slipped on his sunglasses,
pointedly ignoring Lydia’s “Now you really look like a douchebag” comment, and
with a grin, he drove off in the direction of the loft building.
Amongst the crowd, both Allison and Chris Argent stood with calculating looks,
their eyes following the rapidly disappearing vehicle.
“What are you thinking?” Allison murmured quietly to her father.
Chris looked down at his hand where a small baggy with a few strands of fur
were placed inside. He looked back up, “I think we need to stock up on
supplies.” He answered stonily.
                                     -x-x-
Stiles and Scott sat on the loveseat just across from the armchair his father
was currently seated it. Both boys were tense and waiting, and the Sheriff had
a blank frown on his face, eyes pointed towards the carpet, processing the
information he was just given. His hand was grasped in Stiles’, had been since
they sat down, and the boy was squeezing his father’s hand spasmodically,
desperate for some kind of response.
“…Werecats.” John stated in a nearly monotone voice, as if he was testing the
word on his lips. He looked up at his son and Scott, “You’re a werecat.”
Stiles nodded.
The Sheriff looked towards Scott, “And you’re a werewolf.”
Scott nodded.
“And you both have your own ‘packs’ here, and you’re all trying to stop two
more werecats that happen to be the culprit of the murders occurring recently.”
Both Scott and Stiles nodded.
The Sheriff reached up with his free hand and rubbed his eyes, breathing
deeply.
“Dad, I know that this all sounds insane but—“
“No.” John spoke, cutting Stiles off, “I mean, yes it sounds insane but…it sort
of makes sense…what with everything that’s been going on around here. I’m
assuming Derek Hale is a werewolf, too?”
Scott exchanged a look with Stiles, “Um, yeah…how…?”
“Scott. The station. With Matt. I’m not completely blind, you know.” He
muttered, looking grim, “I saw his face. I saw your face. At the time, I just
thought that I was under a lot of stress and was seeing things.”
Stiles was confused by all of this, but Scott went pale at the words, “You saw
us?”
“Yes.”
The Sheriff turned to his son with an unreadable expression. Stiles swallowed.
“You’re a werecat.”
“Yes, dad. I thought we established that?”
“Don’t get smart with me right now, Stiles…” John sighed wearily, taking his
hand back and using them both to scrub over his face, “I just got my son back
and now I’m hearing that he’s not even humananymore.”
Stiles leaned forward, trying to get his father’s attention, “I know, I—god, I
know, Dad, I’m sorry. But you need to understand…right now, you’re in danger—“
because of me “—those two rogues are going to try to come after you—“ because
of me “—and I can’t have you get hurt.” Because of me.
“I…” Stiles breathed slowly, “…you can’t go into work. Not until we stop them.
Mine and D-Derek’s—“ he mentally cursed himself for stuttering over his name,
“—our packs will watch over you. Let us keep you safe. Stay here. Please.”
The Sheriff stared at his son, his little boy…he was the same and yet not. His
boy had grown up now, changed, but still. It was still Stiles. This was still
his son.
He nodded slowly and took Stiles’ hand again, cradling it close and letting a
few more tears leak out, some dripping onto the boy’s hand.
“Okay. Okay, son…I’ll stay.” I’ll stay if you stay.
Stiles swallowed hard again, as if he could hear the unspoken plea. He cleared
his throat a little, “Good…okay.”
Scott smiled and leaned his head a little on Stiles’ arm for silent support.
Though it wasn’t so silent after all as the wolf’s stomach let out an obnoxious
growl.
Both Stilinskis’ turned to face him. Scott flushed, “Uh, sorry…all I had was
coffee this morning.”
John chuckled, feeling nostalgia creep into his heart, “I’ll make something for
breakfast…are you two…?”
“Yeah.” Stiles answered quietly, offering his dad a small smile, “We’ll stay.”
The Alpha werecat felt his heart squeeze a little at the almost joyful
expression on his father’s lined face. The man smiled back and got up, hugged
Stiles again, and walked off into the kitchen humming.
Stiles didn’t stare after him; his eyes were still focused on the chair his
father vacated. His face was a mixture of emotions that Scott couldn’t even
begin to describe and his hands were clasped together in a contemplative
manner.
And then, just like that, something clicked inside Scott’s brain.
“Stiles…” Scott began warily in a hushed voice, hoping the Sheriff wouldn’t
overhear, “…how old were you when you were turned?”
Stiles didn’t turn to face him, “Eleven.”
“You were eleven when you ran away.”
“Mhm.”
“…Is that why…why you—“
“Yup.” Stiles answered with a little ‘pop’ at the end. “I tried to come back.”
Stiles added softly. His hands tightened.
“I tried to come back.” he whispered shakily. Scott instantly leaned against
Stiles’ side comfortingly.
Outside, unbeknownst to anyone, Derek stood, listening in. He pursed his lips,
frustrated at himself for feeling his heart ache at the sound of Stiles’ barely
audible sobs. He flared his nostrils and shook his head, going back to his
post.
It was only the heat.
                                     -x-x-
Olivia snarled from her position behind a tree, miles out from the house, deep
in the forest, “They’re all guarding the house. I didn’t think they’d all be
here this early in the morning.”
“The crime scene,” Seth grumbled from his spot next to her, “probably got to it
and figured out what we were doing.”
“That’s the problem with you werecreatures…you leave such a mess behind.”
The two werecats whipped around, teeth bared and claws out. There stood an
elderly, nearly bald man, sitting at the base of a tree. Olivia grimaced as she
noticed black blood leaking from his nose, mouth and eyes.
“You’re one to talk about a mess, old man…” she hissed, “…you’re a prime
example as to why the turned are lesser than we are. Look at you. I don’t even
have to kill you. The bite is doing that for you.”
“Mm, yes, that’s true.” He wheezed, “But you see, we have a common enemy.
Well…our enemies happen to be in a sort of alliance. I know my way around the
city…we could help one another.”
Seth scoffed, “What makes you think we need your help?”
“You know nothing about werewolves, do you?” the old man challenged. He smirked
at the blank look on their faces, “I have been hunting them for years…and they
just so happen to be working with that pack you so desire to rule…you could say
that revenge is sort of my forte.”
The two siblings stared at one another uncertainly.
Gerard raised an eyebrow and gave an ominous smile through black-stained teeth,
“So…what do you say?”
Chapter End Notes
     Next Chapter: Papa Argent takes action! Stiles tells Derek about his
     past! THE JUNGLE NIGHTCLUB!
     Find me on tumblr for any updates on this fic. Go talk to Stiles and
     his pack at his tumblr here!
***** Welcome To The Jungle *****
Chapter Notes
     I am so sorry for how long this took to get out. School only just
     started and I'm already ready to bury my face into the nearest wall.
     I can't promise you that the next chapter will take a shorter amount
     of time to update, as school is my main priority as of right now.
     Thank you so much to those of you who waited patiently! I hope this
     chapter satisfies you guys for now!
     This is unbeta'ed. I apologize for any errors.
     Disclaimer: Aside from the plot and the original characters that I
     mention, I do not own anything.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Sitting up on his bed, Derek slammed the book in his hands closed. He was
incredibly unfocused, which he realized after reading the same paragraph about
seven times and still not getting the context of it. He felt itchy and restless
and just an overall wrongness that made him frustrated. It had been four days
since the heat, and yet he was still feeling some kind of residual effect days
later. This…was not supposed to happen. The heat was just supposed to dissipate
after consummating, wasn’t it? That’s what his mother had told him, at least.
“When the heat takes over, let it. When it’s over, it will be.”
“It will be what, mother?”
“You’ll know, Derek. You’ll know when it’s time.”
“You’ll know,” Derek mumbled to himself, shaking his head. Leave it to his
mother to give him riddles and then never get the chance to tell him what they
mean.
“Go see him, you reak.”
Derek whipped his head around to see Peter leaning against a pillar, arms
crossed and an amused expression on his face. The Alpha bared his teeth in
annoyance and Peter rolled his eyes, “Don’t be stubborn, Derek. You smell of
yearning and frankly, it stinks. Go see him.”
“I don’t yearn for him,” Derek huffed, throwing the book across the bed, “It’s
just residue.”
Peter raised an eyebrow, “From what, the heat? You did consummate, did you
not?”
Derek did not want to have this conversation, especially with his uncle, of all
people. So instead, he glared at the man, hoping he would get the message.
Of course, he didn’t.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Peter remarked sarcastically, “which, in that case,
you realize that something like that never really just fades away, right?”
“It’s heat. It’s sex. It’s just a feeling and then when it’s sated, it goes
away.” Derek stated bluntly, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and
bracing his arms on the edge, averting his eyes and feeling uncomfortable at
Peter’s scrutiny.
Peter cocked his head, looking both unimpressed and confused, “And where on
Earth did you ever get that?”
“It’s what Mother said,” Derek responded, still looking down, “you should know,
you were there, too. When it’s over, it is.”
The beta blinked, looking genuinely surprised and a little condolatory, “I
think you may have misunderstood my sister, Derek.” He mused.
Derek looked up, eyes reflecting his unspoken question. Peter simply smirked
and turned away, “Go see him, Derek. Maybe you’ll figure it out for yourself.”
He called over his shoulder.
The Alpha growled lowly, his wolf not taking a liking to being ordered around
by his own pack, especially to a member that he still held some animosity to.
But at the same time, he felt his wolf whine longingly at the idea of seeing
Stiles.
So he waited until Peter walked into the kitchen before getting to his feet,
slipping on shoes and trudging out the door, missing Peter’s smug smile as he
left.
                                     -x-x-
Derek marched up the stairs to the next floor, muttering to himself about how
foolish this whole situation was. Approaching the loft labeled 267, he stared
at the steel door blankly. What in the world was he going to say, anyway? “Hey
I’m still really turned on by your hot body and you need to go away”? Why did
he even bother coming up here? Damn Peter and his horrible ideas, Derek thought
angrily.
Just as Derek was about to turn away and head back, the steel door was pulled
open. Derek froze and looked back to see Sebastian standing there, wearing
black_framed_glasses and looking immaculate as ever which was ridiculous
because it was nine in the fucking morning. The lion was staring at him
amusedly, a smirk poking at the corner of his lips.
“I was curious as to how long you’d be standing out here, mate.” he said,
quirking his head to the side, “Did you need something or were you just going
to admire the door and leave?”
Derek opened his mouth to respond when he heard a low rumbling noise from
inside of the loft. Sebastian glanced behind him and then looked back at Derek
with a semi-sheepish expression, “That would be Stiles. Sorry, we’re on our
hour break before I resume his lessons.” He explained.
At the mention of the other Alpha, Derek felt his wolf whine and felt mortified
when the sound escaped his mouth quietly. Sebastian raised an eyebrow, “Did you
want to see him?”
Derek found himself unable to answer as he captured Stiles’ scent within the
loft and was instinctually edging closer to the doorway. Sebastian chuckled and
moved out of the way, “Go ahead, he’s in the living room. I have to pick some
things up from the store anyway.” He said, grabbing his keys from the side
table. Derek entered the domain, lifting his nose to sniff the air and sigh at
the scent surrounding him.
Sebastian glanced at him, “Oh and don’t be alarmed by his size. He’s mostly
harmless.” He added before ducking out the door and pulling it closed behind
him.
Derek stared back at the door, confused, before shrugging it off and walking
further into the loft, sniffing as he went. The scent of Stiles was so
pronounced here, almost more heady than it had been before. He was curious as
to why that was—
Oh.
There was a tiger on the floor.
The Alpha werewolf blinked in surprise at the large Siberian Tiger lying down
on the floor, casually grooming himself. The tiger looked up, his red eyes
catching Derek’s, and the two of them stared at each other for a little while.
After what seemed like hours, Stiles chuffed and went right back to grooming
himself, as if nothing had changed. Derek breathed in deeply and approached
slowly. Stiles’ eyes shot towards him and he paused in his grooming, and though
he didn’t growl, he watched Derek intensely as the other Alpha sat on the couch
right across from him.
Derek chose that moment to speak, “…We need to talk.”
Stiles chuffed again and turned the away, looking eerily like he rolled his
eyes. Derek bit back a growl of annoyance and continued, “If you don’t want to
talk then fine. Just listen to me.”
The tiger didn’t appear to respond, so Derek took a breath and started.
“I have feelings. For you.”
Stiles’ tongue paused where it was grooming his paw.
“Ever since the heat, it’s been there and I have no idea why the hell it won’t
go away. It’s just, you’re everywhere and my wolf won’t shut up when you’re
around.” Derek said through gritted teeth, his hands clenching into the
armrests of the couch, “I’m here because I’m hoping you might have some
answers, because younger or not, you’ve been an Alpha longer than I have. Maybe
you’d know something, I don’t know.”
Derek scrubbed a hand over his face, “If all of this is one-sided and just
happening to me then fine. I just want to know what I can do to stop it because
frankly, it’s driving me crazy.” He spat.
The tiger hadn’t moved from where it froze mid-groom on his paw. About a minute
after Derek finished his rant, Stiles finally looked up at stared Derek down.
Derek tensed, waiting for whatever was to come from the animal.
The tiger stood up on all fours and padded towards a pile of clothes placed at
the side of the room that Derek had not yet noticed until now. The werewolf
watching in fascination as the tiger trembled slightly and the fur began to
recede into skin. Features reverted from catlike back to human, paws elongating
into human fingers and cat ears sinking into short, brown cropped hair as human
ears appeared. The tail was the last to disappear, and it shortened and
shortened until it eventually sank into the skin right above Stiles’ tailbone
and—
Oh right. Stiles was naked now.
Derek cleared his throat and averted his eyes, half out of respect and half out
of not-wanting-to-be-aroused-right-now-because-fuck-me-you’re-hot.
Stiles glanced over as he picked up his khaki skinnies and smirked a little,
“Sorry. I’m not exactly shy when it comes to nudity. Actually none of my pack
are.” He explained, stepping into his pants and pulling them up, starting to
button, “Besides, it’s nothing you haven’t actually seen before, so.”
Not helping, Derek thought to himself before saying, “So are you going to help
or not?”
There was a tension that froze Stiles’ muscles for a second as he picked up his
shirt. The smirk fell a little off of his face, and he sighed quietly, pulling
the grey long sleeve shirt on.
“Is that a no?” Derek asked, growing even more annoyed but with his eyes still
averted.
Stiles turned towards him and bit the inside of his lip, thinking over his
words before answering, “It’s not one-sided,” he said slowly.
Derek’s head shot back around in surprise.
“It’s not…just you.” Stiles finished, looking lost. He mussed his own hair,
looking frustrated, “I don’t know what it is, either. I may have been Alpha
longer than you have, but like you commented before, I was fourteen when that
happened. When the opportunity came available, I took it. I didn’t exactly read
the terms and conditions beforehand.”
“Surely Sebastian would’ve filled you in on everything?” Derek asked, furrowing
his eyebrows.
Stiles scoffed, “He told me the basics: you’re an Alpha, find a pack, and lead
it. When I had questions, he answered them for me. I never thought to ask him
about--“ he flailed his right arm in the space between Derek and himself “--
this.”
“Do you think he’d know?”
“He better,” Stiles growled, “because like you said, it’s driving me crazy. And
of course, the cowardly lion has gone and run off because he’s an asshole and
undoubtedly knows exactly why you came here to talk.”
“Sounds about right,” Derek muttered, thinking back to the mischievous look on
the lion’s face as he left.
There was an awkward silence between the two of them after that. There was
still quite a large space from where Stiles was standing and where Derek was
sitting.
Letting a couple minutes pass, Derek cleared his throat, “You, ah, you wanna
sit down?”
Stiles stared at him with a blank expression, “Where?”
Oh right, Derek thought as he looked down at the one seat couch he was sitting
in.
“…Uh…”
The silence stretched on for a little while longer, and Derek began to sweat as
he was running out of ideas. Finally, Stiles shrugged a little and closed the
space by walking forward and unceremoniously dropping himself into Derek’s lap.
Derek was frozen as Stiles shifted around and curled himself up in Derek’s lap,
pillowing his head on Derek’s shoulder. His wolf rolled around happily at the
contact, and as he allowed his arms to come around and gently embrace Stiles,
he couldn’t stop the rumble of contentment from vibrating out of him.
He was surprised when it was echoed in the other Alpha, and he willingly let
Stiles burrow his face in his neck, sniffing softly and dear God licking, too.
“Is this uncomfortable?” Stiles murmured quietly, pulling back to look Derek in
the eye. Derek stared at him and shook his head minutely in response. Stiles
hummed and rested his head back on Derek’s shoulder.
“Your wolf is rubbing on me.”
Derek flinched, “What?”
“Your wolf,” Stiles repeated softly, rubbing his thumb on Derek’s covered abs,
“I can feel it rubbing on me.”
“Is that okay?”
“…Yeah.”
They went quiet again, only now it was a comfortable silence as they soaked in
each other’s scent. Derek would let himself dip his head and sniff at Stiles’
hair, kissing his scalp and smiling softly when Stiles would hum in response to
his ministrations.
Stiles trailed his lips up to Derek’s jaw, kissing it lightly, “…What is this?”
“I don’t know,” Derek answered honestly, turning his head so he was facing
Stiles.
“Do you really want it to stop?” Stiles murmured, eyes never leaving Derek’s.
Derek kept his gaze and felt his heart beating erratically in his chest, “…No.”
They kept each other’s gaze as they leaned closer to one another, closing their
eyes just as their lips touched. Derek raised his hand and softly cupped
Stiles’ chin as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss. He took a chance and
traced Stiles’ lip with his tongue and sighed into the kiss when Stiles granted
him entry, relishing in the other Alpha’s taste.
Stiles moaned quietly at the feeling and clenched his fist in Derek’s shirt,
feeling overwhelmed by the emotions pumping through his heart. The tiger within
him moaned along with him, a deep, guttural moan that rumbled through his chest
and caused him to whimper softly.
Derek broke away and trailed his lips down Stiles’ pale, freckled neck, nipping
gently and growling in pleasure as Stiles obediently tipped his head back to
allow him more room.
“I don’t want it to stop either.” Stiles admitted, threading his fingers though
Derek’s hair, “Stay a little while?”
“Your hour break is almost over.”
Stiles huffed, “Bas won’t mind. If he does, he has another thing coming.
Just…stay? Please?”
Derek lifted his head and kissed Stiles chastely, nuzzling his cheek, “Okay.”
                                     -x-x-
Scott pulled open his locker and dropped his Physics book inside to replace it
with his English one for seventh period. Isaac trotted up behind him, “Are you
having a hard time concentrating, too?” he asked.
Scott glanced at him and nodded, “Yeah…I’m always on alert now. I can’t let my
guard down anymore.” He responded.
Jackson sidled up next to Isaac, “Do you really think that those two siblings
are stupid enough to attack here? At a public school?”
“We don’t know what they’re capable of.” Scott insisted, closing his locker and
turning to look at the two other betas, “That’s why we need to keep our guard
up. We don’t know what they’ll do.”
Jackson’s phone buzzed suddenly and the beta fished out his phone, reading the
text out loud:
From: Danny 1:57:32pm
In locker room. Get here now. Bring Scott. HURRY.
Jackson looked up at Scott, who was wide eyed. Instantly, the two of them plus
Isaac rushed to the boys’ locker room.
Immediately upon entering, they stopped and grimaced at the putrid smell of
disease and infection filling the room.
“Danny!” Jackson called, looking around frantically.
“Over here!”
The threesome followed Danny’s voice and saw him kneeling over a body in a
puddle of blood. They rushed over and dropped down next to him.
The guy was pale and sweaty and had four long gashes down his chest. The wounds
themselves were tinged with a yellow-ish, puss like goo, which explained the
horrid scent.
“I just found him here when I came to get my stuff,” Danny babbled, looking
panicked, “I think he’s dying. Oh my god he’s dying.”
Jackson shushed Danny as Scott fished through his locker and pulled out an
extra t-shirt. Scott dropped back down next to him and pressed the t-shirt to
the wounds, hoping to stop the bleeding.
“Scott,” Isaac suddenly said, catching his attention, “the scent, under the
disease. It smells like them. We need Stiles.”
“Stiles? Wait, what?” Danny interjected, looking between them.
“What do you mean, them? Like werecat duo them?”
Danny’s eyes widened, “A what-da-what now?”
“You guys,” Jackson hissed, glancing at Danny.
Danny rolled his eyes, “Oh c’mon, stop. I know you guys are werewolves.”
All three of them looked at him with wide eyes and Danny huffed, “You don’t
exactly whisper in class, you know.”
“Anyway, what about Stiles? He’s here?” Danny continued, getting back to the
point.
“No, but he should be,” Scott mumbled, using his other hand to fish his phone
out of his pocket and hurriedly dial Stiles’ number.
                                     -x-x-
“So Heller compiles these series of events through the use of satire, which we
will explore as we read this novel and—Stiles.”
Sebastian looked on, irritated as Stiles seemed to be paying him no mind as he
cuddled closer to Derek, humming and sniffing where his head was pillowed in
the other man’s lap. At the sound of his name, Stiles looked up, looking
disinterested in whatever Sebastian was saying.
“What?”
Sebastian tapped his foot impatiently, “Tell me, what is a satire?”
Stiles blinked owlishly at him, “…Uhh…”
“A type of text that uses irony, sarcasm or ridicule to expose or attack human
vice or stupidity.” Derek answered nonchalantly, combing his fingers through
Stiles’ hair.
Stiles lit up, “Yeah, what he said.”
Sebastian looked at Derek wearily, “Derek, I’m supposed to be teaching him, not
you.”
“Hm.” Was all Derek said as he leaned down to brush kisses over the other
Alpha’s face.
Looking up, Sebastian prayed for patience to whatever god was up there.
“Well, in any case, it’s 2:12pm. I suppose we can dismiss class early since
you’re not actually listening oh my god Stiles!” Sebastian growled as the two
started to make out on the couch.
Stiles broke away from Derek, letting Derek kiss his neck as he gave Sebastian
an exasperated look, “I’m—oh fuck—a little preoccupied at the moment, Bas. Go
make your tea.”
Sebastian grumbled to himself and stalked off to do just that.
Just as he and Derek were about to increase the intensity of their little
‘session’, Stiles’ phone buzzed in his front pocket.
~When I walk in the spot (yeah),
this is what I see (ok)
Everybody stops and they staring at me
I got passion in my pants and I ain't afraid to show it, show it, show it, show
it
I'm sexy and I know it~
Stiles groaned, letting his face fall away from Derek’s, “Fucking Scott.”
“I’d rather you be fucking me.”
Stiles whined, “No, I mean he’s calling me.”
“Ignore it.”
“Noo, I told him I’d always answer now that I’m back,” Stiles grumbled, digging
around for his phone, “damn it, he better be grateful because this is a good
fucking friendship move right here.”
He pressed answer, “What?” he spat.
“Look, I don’t know why you’re mad right now but can you not be for just a
second? There’s kind of a body here bleeding to death and it smells like the
siblings in here.”
Stiles sat straight up, nearly colliding with Derek’s face, “Where are you?”
“The school, in the locker room.”
“Did you call the others?”
“What? No, they’re in class, it’s still seventh period. I’m with Isaac, Jackson
and Danny.”
Stiles blanched at the mention of Danny, “Oh God, why is Danny there?”
“He’s the one who found the guy! Look don’t worry about it, apparently Danny
already knows about werewolves. Just get over here before this guy dies!”
Stiles growled, “Fine. Stay there, I’m coming. Make sure no one goes in the
locker room.” He hung up and hurriedly got to his feet, slipping on his shoes.
“Stay here with Bas, I gotta go.” He said over his shoulder.
Derek scoffed, “Yeah, no.”
Stiles growled at him, to which Derek just growled back.
“Look, on the off chance I get caught there, at least I can pass for a student.
I’m not so sure they’d be lenient with seeing a guy in their mid-twenties
lurking about the boys’ locker room.” Stiles reasoned.
Derek glared a little, “They’d already be suspicious because there’s apparently
a guy dying in the locker room. Plus, did you forget that this town hasn’t seen
your face in six years? I doubt they’ll just let you walk by.”
He added in, “And if there’s any chance those siblings are still close by,
there’s no way that I’m letting them get anywhere near you.”
Stiles’ eyes softened a little at t5h, before growling in annoyance, “Fine,
let’s go. We’re going on foot, it’s faster that way.”
“Great. I love a good run.”
                                     -x-x-
Scott winced as the black veins pulsed through his arm and he let go of the guy
with a gasp, letting Isaac take over.
“What are you guys doing?” Danny asked, still looking panicked but now also
fascinated.
“Taking some of his pain,” Isaac answered, wincing a little, “It won’t heal him
but it’ll make it hurt less.”
Just then, a nearby window shattered open and Stiles and Derek jumped through,
both landing gracefully on their feet.
Stiles’ nostrils flared, “I could smell them throughout the forest. They’re
spreading their scent to try and confuse me.” He said, looking around, “They
can’t be far.”
“Yeah, well we have bigger priorities right now!” Jackson called, motioning
towards the boy.
“Bigger priorities?” Stiles asked, eyes flashing, “Those two are out there,
probably taking more victims and you call this a bigger priority? This boy is
probably nothing but collateral damage. We need to find them.” He glanced at
Danny and nodded, “’Sup.”
“H-hey.” Danny answered back, looking both terrified and amused.
“Stiles!” Scott cried, and Stiles looked down at him, “He’s dying. This
innocent kid is dying. We have to save him.”
A hand landed on Stiles’ shoulder and Stiles turned his red eyes to meet
Derek’s calm green ones.
Stiles sighed, letting his eyes revert back to brown, “Fine.”
He walked forward and crouched down, assessing the damage. He sniffed a little
closer and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, “…Where did you come from?” he
mumbled curiously.
Shrugging it off for now, he let his claws grow and pricked the fingers of his
right hand. He watched the blood well up and, before they could heal, he lifted
the guy’s shirt and dragged his bloodied hand over the wounds.
The group watched in awe as the wounds steamed and sizzled for a moment before
beginning to close. Stiles stood up, “He’ll wake up soon. I need to try and
track the siblings…I hope they haven’t gone too far.” He growled, “Tell the
others when school lets out. Bas, Derek, and I will track in the meantime.”
“And me?” Danny asked, looking a little lost.
Stiles blinked at him, “I think you’ve had enough for today, don’t you think?”
Danny nodded numbly, “Yeah…nice to see you again, by the way.”
“Thanks, but I’d rather you not say anything yet.” Stiles replied, then turned
to look at Derek, “Let’s go.”
The two leaped out of the window, leaving the others with the guy. Just then,
the final bell rang signaling the end of seventh period and the start of
practice.
“Shit,” Jackson mumbled, standing up, “I’ll go get something to clean this up.”
Isaac also stood, “I’ll keep others out for now; Scott, you might wanna go tell
the others.”
Scott nodded, “Right,” he said and quickly got to his feet and rushed out the
door.
As the others dispersed, Danny flinched when the guy below him groaned softly,
his eyes fluttering open to reveal a clear blue.
“What happened?” the guy croaked, looking around.
“Ah…I think you’d rather not know.” Danny replied as Jackson returned with a
few towels, “I’m Danny.”
The guy blinked up at him, “Amareth.” He said.
                                     -x-x-
By six o’clock, both packs were gathered at Derek’s loft and leaning over a map
of the city.
“I tracked their scent from the school to here,” Sebastian pointed towards the
east end of a forest, “and then it’s like it disappears.”
“How could a scent just disappear?” Miles asked from his spot next to Erica,
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Are you sure it didn’t just redirect?” Lydia offered, crossing her arms.
Sebastian huffed, “If it redirected, I would’ve told you by now. It just
disappeared.”
“Ammonia.”
The whole group turned to look at Derek, who had spoken.
Elle cocked her head, “Ammonia? Like the cleaning supply?”
Derek nodded, “It’s been used in the past to hide scents due to its strong
odor. Because of that, I’ve grown accustomed to its smell and I can tell when
it’s been used.”
“They wouldn’t know how to use that. In fact, aside from clothes, they seem
repulsed by anything man-made.” Sebastian stated, looking grim.
“Someone is helping them,” Stiles assessed, clenching his hands into the metal
table.
The table was quiet for a moment, before Scott pointed out something, “Wait,
you said they were here? The scent stopped here?”
Sebastian looked at him and nodded. Scott groaned a little when he traced his
finger to the nearest establishment.
Boyd looked over to where Scott was pointing, “…The Jungle.”
“The what?” Miles asked, looking confused.
“It’s a nightclub. A gay nightclub.” Erica explains.
“Back when Jackson was still, well, scaly…we tracked him there.” Derek
explained further, “In other words, we know how to get there.”
“You think they’d be there?” Sebastian asked, looking at Stiles, who shrugged.
“Only one way to find out,” Stiles said, looking up at everyone, “let’s go
clubbing.”
                                     -x-x-
Outside the club, miles away and perched atop a building, Olivia and Seth
watched as both packs arrived at the front entry.
“We should just attack them now,” Olivia growled, feeling her claws begin to
grow.
“Not just yet, dear,” Gerard croaked from behind them.
Olivia turned to face him, her eyes glowing blue and a heavy sneer on her face,
“And why not?”
Instead of answering verbally, Gerard pointed back down to the driveway. Just
after the packs had entered the club, another car arrived. Two people climbed
out, a young woman and an older man.
“Who are they?” Seth questioned, trying to sniff them out from afar.
“My son and granddaughter,” Gerard replied, looking amused, “hunters.”
“Hunters?” Olivia hissed, “Why are they here?”
“It appears that we are not the only ones aware of their existence.” Gerard
mused.
“Well tough. I have plans for that damn abomination.” Olivia snarled.
Gerard gave her a patronizing smile, “And they won’t touch him, dear,” he said,
“but that doesn’t mean we can’t have a little fun.”
                                     -x-x-
“I thought I was done for today,” Danny whined a little as he was dragged along
with the group to the club.
“You were,” Stiles said, looking sympathetic, “but apparently you know how to
get a couple of teenagers in this place, so that’s what you’re going to do.”
Sighing, Danny went in front of the line and worked his magic, beginning to
flirt with the large security guard.
“Bless you, Danny,” Jackson mumbled considerately.
Stiles turned towards the group, “We’re here to catch a scent and/or them, not
to rave. If you smell or see anything, signal me, okay?” he commanded.
He looked towards Danny, who caught his eye and motioned them over, apparently
succeeding in getting them access.
He turned back towards the group, “Let’s do this.”
The two packs entered the building and immediately dispersed into smaller
groups to lessen suspicion and to cover more area.
“It’s hard to smell anything in here when all I can smell is sweat.” Derek
mumbled into Stiles’ neck.
Stiles smirked a little, “I’m surprised that that’s the only thing you smell
here, considering how down and dirty everyone’s getting around here.” He said,
grinding his hips down onto Derek’s groin.
Derek growled and grabbed his hips tightly, “We’re on a mission. Can’t get
distracted.” He gritted out.
“Doesn’t mean we can’t play along,” Stiles said flippantly, reaching back
behind him to get his arm around Derek’s neck, “I need to work off some energy
anyway.”
Derek was all too happy to comply.
On the other side of the club, Elle and Boyd were weaving through the crowd,
both trying to find a scent. So far Elle had to push away a few men that were
trying to grind up against a very awkward looking Boyd, and it was proving to
be a bit distracting.
“Elle,” Boyd said suddenly, grabbing Elle’s attention. He pointed forward, and
Elle looked to see a blonde man matching the picture that Stiles had shown her,
Seth. His eyes flashed blue and he immediately pushed off from the wall he was
leaning against and began walking in the opposite direction.
Elle growled and made her way faster through the crowd to follow him. Boyd
trailed after and sent out a mass text to everyone else to notify them.
Derek’s phone buzzed in his front pocket, and the Alpha immediately paused in
his dancing with Stiles to pull it out and read it.
From: Boyd 7:21:02pm
  we found one of them. west exit. come now.
Derek showed the text to Stiles, who tensed and shared a short glance with
Derek before they both started to head in the direction that Boyd told them.
Elle burst out of the club through the west exit door, looking around with
glowing eyes. She zeroed in on the back of a man with blonde shoulders and
sniffed, growling when she caught the same scent as she did inside. Just as she
leaped at him, claws out, Boyd caught another scent and his eyes widened,
“Wait!”
It was too late, however, as her claws sunk into the flesh of the man’s back
and he cried out. He rolled over and Elle’s eyes widened when she noticed that
this was not the man she had seen in the club, that this was not Seth.
This was a human wearing his clothes.
Before Elle could do anything else, an arrow shot out from nowhere and pierced
itself into her side, followed by three bullets, both soaked in rhododendron
extract.
Boyd looked up to see Allison and her father rushing forward, weapons pointed
at Elle.
The west exit burst open and Scott leapt out, shielding Elle and Boyd, “Wait!
Stop!”
Stiles ran over to Elle, pulling out the arrow and hearing her pained cries.
His eyes flashed and he growled menacingly at the two Argents. Derek positioned
himself in front of Stiles, both to protect him and to protect the other two
from him.
“Scott, move out of the way. She hurt someone. It’s in the code, werewolf or
not.” Allison stated, keeping her bow firmly docked.
Stiles growled even louder in response, catching their attention. Allison
stared at him with shocked eyes, “…Stiles?”
Elle’s whimpers pulled Stiles out of his rage for a moment, “S-Stiles, the
man…help him,” she choked out.
“I’ve got it,” Sebastian mumbled, going over to the injured human. As he went
to move, Chris Argent raised his gun and pointed it at him warningly.
“Stay back.” He spat.
Sebastian raised his hands placatingly, “Sir, with all due respect, if I stay
back, that man will die.” He said, motioning towards the heavily bleeding
human, “Only a werecat can heal him. If you know so much about us, you should
at least know that.”
Chris seemed torn at the moment, before reluctantly moving out of the way to
allow Sebastian through, but never lowering his gun.
“Hurts,” Elle croaked out, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Stiles shushed her, whispering calm reassurances whilst taming his own rage.
“Allison,” Scott pleaded, looking her in the eye even as the bow was pointed at
him, “please. They made a mistake.”
“He’s wearing Seth’s clothes,” Sebastian assessed as he healed the man, “He
must’ve been influenced by one of them to do so.”
Lydia snarled, “They set a trap. They knew you two hunters were here and were
trying to get a rise out of you so you would attack us. Obviously, they
succeeded.”
“I need to get her out of here.” Stiles said grimly, “I need to heal her.”
“Not until we have answers.” Chris said sternly.
Stiles looked up at him with a looming snarl and bright crimson eyes, “You’ll
get your goddamn answers another fucking time. My beta is hurt and could die.
If you don’t let me through, I’ll make you let me through, you insensitive
prick.”
Chris’ eyes hardened at the words and his grip on the gun tightened a little.
Derek blocked his view of Stiles with a glare of his own, “Let us leave. We
didn’t purposely hurt this man, it was a trap. Stiles’ pack member is poisoned
now and we need to get her back to the house. We don’t need your permission.”
With that, Derek tilted his head slightly in Stiles’ direction. Catching the
signal, Stiles wrapped his arms around Elle and quickly fled the area at high
speed, heading back to the loft. With one last glare at Chris, Derek turned and
followed swiftly after him.
“Guys,” Erica called, with Miles at her side. The group looked over at a
darkened corner of the street, reading a message that was scratched out on the
brick.
                             YOUR MOVE, STILINSKI.
                                     -x-x-
 
Derek pulled open the door to Stiles’ loft, letting Stiles rush in with Elle in
his arms before closing the door and following.
“Grab that towel, and put it on the table.” Stiles ordered, motioning towards a
stack of towels near the kitchen. Derek grabbed two and draped them over the
table, helping Stiles as he set her down.
“I have to get the bullets out first,” Stiles growled, tearing her tshirt
apart, exposing her bra and bloodied abdomen. He looked up at Derek, “Go to the
kitchen and pull out the second spice rack. Find the jar marked ‘Dried
Rhododendron’ and bring it here with a lighter.”
Derek left to do just that, pulling open the spice rack and fumbling around
with the different jars, eventually finding the jar with a couple of dried
purple flowers inside. He rushed back just as Stiles pulled out the last bullet
accompanied by a scream of pain from Elle.
He handed the jar over to Stiles and watched in something akin to déjà vu as he
dumped some of it out and lit it up. A purple smoke puffed out of the mixture,
and Stiles scooped it up.
“Hold her down.” Stiles said.
Derek looked at Elle, “She’s unconscious.”
“Just hold her down, goddamn it!” Stiles growled, and Derek scrambled to do so,
holding her shoulders down to the table.
With a breath, Stiles separated the mixture and pressed it to each of her
wounds. Immediately, they sizzled and Elle awoke, screaming loudly and jerking
into a sitting position in Derek’s hold. Her eyes flashed gold and a few more
tears leaked out of her eyes before the wounds finally began to heal and she
slumped into Derek’s chest, breathing haggardly.
Stiles breathed a sigh of relief and gripped the table, his arms shaking. He
looked up at Elle to see her staring at him through lidded eyes. He smiled
gently and reached up to push the hair out of her face, “Time for me to take
care of you, baby girl.” He whispered affectionately. She smiled softly before
eventually passing out against Derek.
                                     -x-x-
Stiles gently tucked Elle into her bed, leaving a bottle of water at her
bedside. He leaned down and kissed her forehead reverently, leaning his
forehead against hers for a moment and sighing.
He soon raised back up and turned off her lamp before heading out of her room
and closing the door behind him.
“You’re very affectionate with her,” Derek commented from where he was leaning
against the wall of the hallway.
Stiles glanced in his direction, “I’m affectionate with all of my pack.”
“But her especially. Why?”
Stiles sighed and led Derek back to his bedroom. Derek sat on Stiles’ bed as
the other Alpha faced the window, crossing his arms.
“She reminds me of my mother sometimes,” Stiles admitted, looking up at the
crescent moon.
Derek stared at his back curiously, “Your mother?”
“Yeah,” Stiles breathed, “She, ah, passed away when I was eleven years old,
about a month before I ran away. Cancer,” he scoffed, “cancer was what they
were calling it.”
“What was it really?”
Stiles turned to look at Derek, “A werewolf bite.”
Derek stared at Stiles in shock. Stiles simply exhaled deeply and went to sit
down by Derek, but not completely face him.
“As you know, Beacon Hills is, well, literally a beacon when it comes to
supernatural entities. Has been ever since I’ve lived here. Why it is, I have
no idea. I’ve known about supernatural things ever since I saw a werewolf
transform once when I was wandering through the woods. I was six years old at
the time, so you can imagine the looks on my parents’ faces when I retold the
story to them. Wild imaginations, they said we kids have.” Stiles recalled,
picking lint off of his pants.
“When I was eleven years old, I was out in the woods again. I was ADHD back
then,--you know, before the bite—and would often go out there whenever I saw
something interesting. It was, like, the middle of the night, too. My mom found
me missing out of my bed and went out into the woods to find me.” Stiles
murmured, “It was a full moon.”
Derek felt his body grow cold. He knew where this was going.
“My mom did find me that night, while I was watching a wolf transform. She
called my name out, and that apparently startled the fuck out of the werewolf,
who turned its red eyes at me.” Stiles said, “It charged at me, but my mom
blocked the way and got bitten in turn. It…ran away shortly after that.”
Stiles twiddled his thumbs, “They took her to the hospital. They couldn’t
figure out what the black blood was, so they ruled it as cancer. Something to
do with the connection between black tar and black blood or some shit, I don’t
fucking know.” He breathed, “She died within the week, rejecting the bite.”
Stiles was quiet for a moment.
“I tried to tell my dad. I tried to tell him what killed her. He didn’t listen.
He didn’t believe.”
“Dad I’m trying to tell you!” 11-year-old Stiles screamed, tears running down
his face, “It killed her! It bit her and killed her andwhy aren’t you listening
to me, Dad?!”
The Sheriff only continued to drink his whiskey and stare at the television,
ignoring his son. He was still dressed in his black suit, back from his wife’s
funeral only hours earlier.
“Dad!”
Something snapped in John Stilinski, and the man stood up and looked at his son
with a fire in his eyes, “Stiles!”
The boy shut up, tears still streaming down his face.
“It’s you. It’s all you. You know every day I saw her lying there in that
hospital slowly dying. I thought how the hell am I supposed to raise this
stupid kid on my own? This hyperactive little bastard who keepsruining my
life!” he shouted.
He pointed at his child, “It’s all you. It’s you,Stiles.” He spat the name with
such disgust, “You killed your mother, you hear me?”
Stiles choked back a whine.
“You killed her. And now you’re killing me.”
“I knew he was drunk.” Stiles stated solemnly, his hands trembling, “It didn’t
mean that his words didn’t have to hurt.”
Derek stared at Stiles sadly, feeling his heart lurch in his chest at the sight
of tears beginning to form in the other boy’s eyes.
“I left that night. I just, packed up and took whatever shit money I had in my
backpack and left during the night.” Stiles said softly, “Halfway out of town I
realized what a mistake it was. But it was too late.”
Stiles knew immediately after boarding the bus that this was a horrible idea.
What the hell was he supposed to do on his own? What about school? What about
Scott?
Oh god, how could he leave his father alone? They already lost mom, he can’t
lose him too.
But he was so tired...maybe just a nap for now. Then he’ll take the next bus
home.
“When I woke up, she was there. She found me.”
Stiles awoke to a whispered cooing noise.
“Hey little boy…hey…”
His eyes opened and he took in the sight of a beautiful blonde woman sitting
next to him on the bus. Her face was gorgeous, but was marred with a sinister
grin that sent chills down Stiles’ spine.
“You were asleep through the entire thing, little one,” she cooed, tilting her
head to the side, “I find that quite interesting.”
Asleep through—
Stiles gasped and curled up as he looked around the bus. Carnage was strewn
across the seats and the floor, bodies lying in puddles and heaps with missing
limbs and appendages and oh god.
It was then Stiles took note of the blood all over the woman’s clothes, and he
immediately scooted away from her, terrified.
“Shh…don’t be afraid, little one,” she whispered, leaning forward and caressing
his cheek with a bloodied claw.
Her eyes flashed red, and he whimpered, “Are you a werewolf?”
The woman chuckled, “No, little one…but close enough.”
“Please don’t kill me, I just want to go home,” Stiles cried, flinching away
from her claws.
She raised an eyebrow, “Oh, I can’t have that…not when you’re such an
interesting one…” she murmured, “say…how would you like to knowwhatexactly I
am?”
Stiles stared back at her in horror as she grinned, fangs poking out.
“Run, little one.”
“I didn’t get very far before Arisa caught me.” Stiles said, clenching his
fists and eyes flashing.
Derek soaked in all the information, feeling his heart clench in hatred for the
woman who bit Stiles against his will. Suddenly he wished that he could’ve
killed her in vengeance for Stiles, but he realized that such a vengeance had
already been claimed on Stiles’ behalf. He had killed her and taken her title.
This boy was only a teenager. He didn’t deserve what had happened to him, and
yet it did.
Without much thought, Derek reached over and covered Stiles’ clenched fist with
his hand. Stiles jumped a little and turned to look at him in surprise, his
eyes fading.
Derek picked up Stiles’ fist and brought it to his lips, kissing each finger
slowly. Stiles watched him, his heart beating roughly in his chest at the
tender action. His fists unclenched and the tension in his body eased.
When he got to the last finger, Derek opened Stiles’ hand and kissed his palm.
Stiles stared at Derek as he lowered his hand. He swallowed hard, “…You’re so
cheesy.” He whispered jokingly, but his lie was evident by the breathlessness
of his voice.
Derek smiled softly in response, “Okay.”
                                     -x-x-
John Stilinski was dozing off in his armchair when he heard the doorbell ring.
He snorted himself awake and looked up, wondering if he had actually heard
something when the doorbell rang again.
He’d been off work for a while now, per Stiles’ instructions, so it wasn’t
unusual that some of his deputies would come by to deliver news or stories of
the day to entertain him.
He lifted himself out of his seat and headed towards the door. He looked
through the peephole and was surprised to see a young woman standing out there
patiently.
Leaning away for a moment, John shrugged and unlatched the lock before opening
the door.
The woman turned towards him and smiled.
“Can I help you?” He asked with a hand still on the door.
The woman grinned wider, “Yes, actually,” Olivia drawled, her eyes flashing
bright blue, “you can.”
Chapter End Notes
     Next Chapter: Sebastian reveals the truth about Stiles/Derek! Papa
     Stilinski in danger! I REPEAT, PAPA STILINSKI IN DANGER OH GOD!
     I hope you guys caught the reference to 2x09 I popped in there. ;)
     I'm on tumblr here!
     Ask Stiles and the werecat pack questions here! It helps while
     waiting for the next chapter! :)
***** The Lore (part one) *****
Chapter Notes
     ...So I'm not even going to bother trying to come up with some excuse
     for my absence. Yes, I did have surgery but aside from that I just
     hadn't had much inspiration, I guess.
     Aaaaaand then there came the whole BAM oh look a were jaguar in canon
     and the mentions of a were cheetah in the trailer and I was
     like...okay. I guess I should get back to this then. So here I am.
     NOTE: this is a TWO-PART CHAPTER. So yes, this chapter is shorter
     than others but there is another part coming. Why didn't I post them
     both together? Uh...I don't exactly have it all edited and fully
     finished yet. I only have the outline and a few paragraphs. And since
     I haven't updated in holy hell nearly a year, I feel bad for making
     you guys wait any longer. I'm working on the other half as we speak,
     so...yeah. Fun times.
      
     This is unbeta'ed. I apologize for any errors.
     Disclaimer: Aside from the plot and the original characters that I
     mention, I do not own anything.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Derek snorted awake, suddenly alert as he took in his surroundings. He was in
an unfamiliar room in an unfamiliar bed with an unfamiliar weight on his chest
that was currently—
Oh. No, that was definitely familiar.
He ducked his head down to see Stiles, fully awake, lazily sucking bruises into
his collarbone.
Derek groaned at the feeling and Stiles looked up, grinning whilst still
rubbing the tender skin he had been sucking on with his thumb. “Good morning,
big boy,” he whispered.
“We fell asleep?” Derek slurred gruffly, feeling stupid after the words left
his mouth. Obviously they, or at least he, had fallen asleep sometime between
their conversation and now. It was still dark out, though, from what Derek
could tell by the lack of sunlight through the window.
“Mhmm.” Stiles hummed, pillowing his head on Derek’s muscled shoulder, “Just
for a little while, though. More like a nap.”
Derek glanced at the clock, which read a glowing 2:43AM. He sighed softly, “I
should be getting back,” he mumbled, his body protesting his words, “I need to
make sure my pack is okay.”
“Mmhm, you go right ahead,” Stiles mumbled, though he didn’t attempt move from
his current position, draped over Derek like a hot blanket.
The wolf huffed and shifted a little, “Stiles.”
“Whaaaaaaat,” Stiles whined petulantly, a mischievous grin pulling at his lips,
“I said you go right ahead. I didn’t say that I would move.” He pressed his
nose into Derek’s skin and inhaled deeply, growling lowly at the scent.
Derek’s breath hitched at the sound and his hand immediately came to rest
gently at the back of Stiles’ head, “Stiles, we—”
Just then, Miles burst into the room, looking panicked. Erica followed quickly
after, looking concerned not for Miles, but instead her eyes immediately
averted to Stiles. If they reacted at all to seeing both of their Alphas in bed
together, they didn’t show it.
Stiles immediately sat up upon noticing the frantic look in Miles eyes and
smelling the anxiety wafting off of the both of them, “What’s wrong?”
Miles swallowed hard before answering, “Your dad. He’s missing.”
 
                                     -x-x-
                                        
Both packs, apart from Elle who was still asleep, were gathered in the living
room and watching anxiously as Stiles very nearly paced a hole in the floor, a
myriad of anger, hatred, worry and fear rising up from him in harsh, blunt
waves.
“Stiles, please, just calm down—”
“Calm down? You want me to fucking calm down?” Stiles screamed, eyes bright
crimson as he paused in his pacing and whipped around to face Sebastian, who
was sitting at the edge of a couch, “My father has been abducted from his house
by tweedledee and tweedledum and you expect me to calm down? This is what I’ve
been trying to prevent from the beginning and I failed, god damn it! So don’t
fucking tell me to calm down!”
“Stiles,” Isaac cut in, holding his hands up in a defensive pose, “stop acting
like he’s already dead, he’s just missing.”
“Missing, and presumed dead because they’re fucking psychopaths!” Stiles
seethed, picking up a nearby glass and throwing it against the wall behind the
beta, causing it to shatter and Isaac to visibly flinch away. Derek, from his
spot leaning against the brick wall, instinctively bristled at the act, and
Stiles, noting the gesture, turned to face him with glowing eyes, “What, are
you going to tell me to calm down, too, dog?”
Derek chose to ignore the barb, as he was nearly accustomed to Stiles’ tirades
by now. Instead, he raised his head and addressed his pack, “Go back to my
loft. Take them with you. Stiles and I need to talk.”
“Don’t order my pack around like—”
“Stiles. Shut. Up.” He growled, his own eyes flashing red for a moment, “We are
talking now. You are not my pack’s Alpha, I am. And I don’t appreciate it when
my pack feels threatened by another. To be honest, I’m not even sure that
they—” he jerked his head towards the werecats, “—feel comfortable here right
now, either.”
Stiles glanced at his pack, who indeed looked visibly shaken at Stiles antics.
The Alpha swallowed and caught Sebastian’s eye, nodding jerkily, “Take Elle
with you…I don’t want to wake her.” He said quietly. Sebastian nodded his
assent and started towards her bedroom as the rest of the pack filtered out of
the loft. Stiles watched as Scott put a gentle hand on a shaking Isaac’s back,
leading him out, and felt a stab of guilt.
Once Sebastian carried Elle out, Derek walked over to the door and pulled it
shut, locking it.
Behind him, only a few feet back, Stiles crossed his arms and watched him,
“So.”
Derek paused at his position facing the door, “So what?”
“So what are you thinking?” Stiles drawled, looking annoyed, “That I’m
overreacting? That I’m being petulant and should settle down like a child?”
Derek was silent for a beat before answering slowly, “I think you’re afraid.”
Sensing Stiles’ rising anger, Derek quickly continued, “I think you’re afraid
to lose your father, the only family you have left, and instead of showing it,
you’re turning it into anger…self-loathing.”
Stiles huffed, “I think you’re talking about yourself, buddy-boy.”
Clenching and unclenching his fists in annoyance, Derek turned to face Stiles,
“I’m talking about you, too, Stiles!” he grunted, glaring, “Does what I just
said apply to me as well? Yes, it does. You may know all the surface details
about the fire that stole almost everything from me, but you can relate a
little more to it, can’t you?”
Stiles flinched, and Derek choose that moment to continue talking.
“You know what it’s like to watch a loved one die, know exactly how they died,
and yet not have anyone to tell because it’s too insane to be true. You know
what it’s like to silently mourn amongst people who have absolutely no fucking
idea what you’ve seen. You know what it’s like to watch someone you used to
know turn into someone you barely recognize anymore. Best of all, you know what
it’s like to go through hell and back and feeling like you have no one to run
to despite being surrounded by others because all you are is lonely.”
Stiles was shaking, his hands were trembling where they were gripping his
elbows and his head ducked down.
“Stiles…” Derek sighed, shaking his head, “…Stiles, we’re a lot more alike than
you think.”
Expecting another snarky reply, Derek was slightly surprised to hear a small
sniffle from the other Alpha. The scent of saltwater reached his nose and Derek
felt his heart drop like a block of ice, a sharp pain rippling through him as
if shards of the metaphorical organ were slowly breaking off.
In just a few slow and long strides, Derek crossed the room until he stood
right before Stiles, who refused to look up at him.
“I can’t lose him, Der.” The other Alpha whispered, tears that he wished would
stay hidden making themselves known as they fell down his face in an
unstoppable deluge, “…I can’t, Derek, he’s all that I left, Der, I can’t—”
Derek pulled the younger man to him, wrapping one arm around his waist and the
other resting on his neck in an attempt to comfort him, “I know. I know,
Stiles. We’ll find him, I promise.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Stiles muffled voice said through Derek’s
steadily dampening shirt.
“This is one that I’ll be keeping, Stiles. I will find him.”
Stiles was silent as he cried, letting Derek hold him in strong arms.
Eventually, he raised a hand to gently grip Derek’s shirt, “…Okay.”
 
                                     -x-x-
                                        
The two packs were tense as they waited in Derek’s loft. Though they initially
tried not to, they couldn’t help but eavesdrop on the two’s conversation
upstairs.
Scott, from his spot next to a dozing Isaac, tilted his head towards Sebastian,
“Hey…what does Derek mean? How does Stiles ‘know how it feels’?” he asked
quietly.
Sebastian paused in his petting of Elle’s hair, where she lay in his lap. He
shook his head, “It’s an awfully long story, mate, one that you deserve to hear
from Stiles himself…when he’s ready, of course.”
“Am I the only one who thinks that it was an incredibly stupid idea for Derek
to promise that to Stiles? That we’ll find his father, no problem?” Jackson
snarked, raising his hands up in exasperation.
“No, because we are going to find him, dumbass.” Lydia snapped, glaring at the
beta wolf from where she was standing by Sebastian’s side.
“But we can’t be sure of that,” Boyd reasoned softly, looking grim where he sat
on a single couch, “don’t get me wrong, I want nothing more than the Sheriff to
be okay, but…we don’t know what they’re capable of. You do, and from what I’ve
seen and heard, they could do anything.”
Miles, where he was slumped over in a kitchen chair, lifted his head from his
hands, “You’re right...though I don’t know them as well as Bas and Lyds do,
from everything I’ve seen, they’re extremely unpredictable.” He paused to avert
his gaze towards Scott, “Also…who was that woman who attacked Elle? And the
guy? You sounded like you knew them.”
Scott froze as all heads turned to him. He gulped, “Allison…and her father.
They’re Argents.”
“As in hunterArgents?” Lydia spat, “As in the infamous family that caused the
Hale fire?”
“The very ones.” A voice said from the back corner, and they all turned to see
Peter there, walking out with his arms crossed. He paused to shrug, “Well, not
them specifically, but their family were the ones responsible.”
“And you knew her how?” Sebastian queried, eyeing Scott curiously.
“She, um…” Scott stuttered, looking abashed, “…She’s my ex.”
Sebastian’s eyebrows raised up for a moment and he hummed, “Sounds like a case
of history repeating itself was avoided. Good thing.”
“If you’re suggesting that Allison would do what Kate did, then you’re wrong.”
“You don’t know that, mate.”
“But I do!”
Sebastian shook his head, “It hardly matters right now. This is all weighing
down on Stiles’ shoulders, and I don’t doubt that Derek feels the same way.”
Scott’s eyebrows furrowed, “Why d’you say that?”
The lion started for a moment, blinking, “They ah…they have a bond. Of sorts.”
“A…bond?”
Peter rolled his eyes, “Scott, don’t act stupid. You know you can smell them on
each other.”
Scott grimaced, “I don’t actually want to think about that right now, thanks.”
“No. Think about it, Scott,” Peter pressed, “why is that? Why do they smell
like each other?”
“Well, because they—“
“Why does air feel so tense and yet soothingly warm when they’re together? Why
do their moods seem to coincide and balance one another despite having nearly
nothing in common?” Peter asked rhetorically, letting his words flow like an
annoying melody.
Both packs looked confused, at least, aside from Sebastian, who was pinching
the bridge of his nose tiredly. He looked up at Peter, who raised an innocent
brow.
“Either you tell them, or I will.” The elder wolf uttered facetiously.
Pursing his lips, Sebastian turned his eyes to the curious ones of both packs
and, after a beat, began with a question, “Do any of you know what mating is?
Mating Lore?”
Out of the corner of his eye, Sebastian caught Lydia’s eyes widen for a moment.
“Of course they don’t, they’re children.” Peter snorted.
Scott blinked owlishly, “Mating? Like…animals?”
“Well, yes.” Sebastian answered, mouth twitching, “Werecreatures are part
animal, so there are many traits that we share, one of them being the
capability of mating, the universe’s version of natural selection.”
“So wait, are you trying to say that Derek and Stiles are, like, soulmates or
something?” Jackson asked dubiously, “Sounds a little Twilighty to me.”
Lydia side-eyed him, “You’ve read Twilight?”
Jackson flushed, “No, I’ve just heard about it a lot, shut up, everyone’s heard
about it.”
“Anyway,” Sebastian continued, “Mating Lore differs between different
creatures, but in weres, it’s relatively uniform. Betas and Alphas can mate,
yet so can Alphas to other Alphas and Betas to other Betas. The process is
different depending on the status of your mate, though.”
“…How so?” Boyd asked, looking interested.
Sebastian paused for a moment, selecting his next few words carefully so the
others could understand.
“Betas and Alphas are similar in that the first thing they take in is the scent
of the opposite person. How they react is a different story. Betas, if mating
to another Beta, are slow moving; they go through the tradition ‘wine and dine’
if you will. The scent of their mate is appealing to them, but due to low
pheromone levels, they do not consummate the relationship until heat, where
said pheromone levels are heightened.”
Sebastian didn’t miss the way Miles and Erica’s faces flushed, but he hid his
smirk.
“Alphas, on the other hand, are more…aggressive with their instincts. Alphas
have a naturally high pheromone level just in general, used mostly to herd
their packs in by scent and to mark territory. When mating towards a Beta,
Alphas will be very territorial and will frequently scent-mark their mates as a
part of their territory, but will obligingly wait for the Beta’s heat cycle
before consummation. When mating with another Alpha, however…the need to mark
and claim and dominate overrides all other systematic functions, and the body’s
pheromone levels will skyrocket and automatically send both Alphas into heat.”
Scott, though interested, was also growing increasingly uncomfortable as the
conversation went on, “So what does this have to do with how Stiles and Derek
feel?”
Sebastian smiled at the boy, “Once mated, emotions are passed along a kind of
tether between one another. When one is upset, the other is upset. When one
senses danger, the other will act upon it. It’s an unbreakable bond that
ultimately serves to strengthen the partnership.”
“So, Derek and Stiles are mated.” Scott state, nodding slowly, then made a
little face, “Why wouldn’t they tell us? Or why wouldn’t Stiles at least tell
me?”
“Because they don’t know.” Peter replied, cutting off Sebastian. A small smirk
played at his lips, “Well, actually…I think Derek is putting the pieces
together…but, and correct me if I’m wrong…Stiles has no idea what mating
actually is, does he?”
Sebastian pursed his lips and Lydia glared at the elder wolf.
“No. He doesn’t.” Sebastian confirmed slowly.
“For good reason.” Lydia added, still glaring hard at Peter, “Stiles was turned
against his will and forced into a life he never wanted to lead. He was
sensitive for a long time before he finally—and understandably so—took charge
of his own life and became Alpha. Forgive me, forgive us, for not predicting
that we’d ever have to come back here.”
“I wanted to wait,” Sebastian sighed, massaging his temples tiredly, “I wanted
to guide him into it and tell him slowly. Mating Lore is very complex…I didn’t
want to overwhelm him more than I knew he already was at the time.”
“Look past his age, kitty,” Peter said, snorting at the little growl of
annoyance he received form the lion, “he may only be a teenager but he’s
obviously capable of making his own choices, especially on those pertaining to
his life mate.”
“Yes, I know that now.” Sebastian growled, “I’d tell him this second if it
weren’t for the current situation at hand.”
There was a quiet pause as everyone around steeped in the information brought
up. Sebastian had his eyes closed, his head leaning back against the couch
frame when he felt a small twitch, a change in Elle’s breathing. He instantly
lifted his head up and looked down at his lap just as her eyes slowly opened in
a groggy manner.
Sebastian leaned down and gently resituated her head into a more comfortable
position, “Hey sweetheart…” he greeted softly, caressing her cheek lovingly.
At the sign of their awakened pack mate, Miles nearly fell in his haste to jump
off the tall kitchen stool and Lydia crouched down to the youngest member’s
level. As soon as she felt her pack’s hands on her, Elle released a soft sigh.
However, she soon whined quietly, not from pain, Sebastian knew, but from the
lack of another hand. Her Alpha.
“Shh, sweetheart…he’ll be here soon,” He cooed, leaning down to kiss her
forehead lovingly.
Her small hand raised to grasp the hand on her face in a weak grip, and she
looked up at him through hooded yet imploring eyes, “What are we going to do,
Bassie?” she croaked out.
Sebastian felt his lip twitch at the nickname—one she hardly ever used anymore,
but it was adorable nonetheless—but soon grew serious. As he glanced about the
room at the wolfpack, he could see the same question mirrored in their eyes.
“We’re going to save my father.”
The group turned to the doorway to see Derek and Stiles walk in, the latter
with a fierce look of intent on his face. It softened just slightly as he
approached the couch his pack was gathered around to lean down and nuzzle
Elle’s face, kissing her lips chastely.
He looked up at the rest of the group around him and snarled, “And I’m going to
kill those motherfuckers.”
Most of the group seemed to growl and snarl in tandem with the Alpha werecat’s
words, but Derek was perturbed. And as he glanced about the room and noticed
his younger beta, Scott, and the elder lion, in a similar stance…he knew he
wasn’t alone.
At this rate, this could never end well for any of them.
A hand reached out to grip Derek’s forearm, averting his attention away from
the group. The wolf turned and frowned in the face of his uncle, who looked
oddly insistent.
“We need to talk.” Is all he said, before glancing down at Sebastian, who was
watching the exchange with a calculative eye. Derek looked between them as the
two appeared to be having some sort of silent conversation without him. Only a
few seconds passed before Sebastian exhaled and spoke a few words to Stiles,
some excuse about needing to get something from his room in their loft.
The tiger’s eyes narrowed for a moment, but he tilted his head in dismissal,
switching places with the beta to pillow Elle’s head in his lap. The lion stood
and began to stalk towards the door, but not before sharing a rather irritated
look with Peter before leaving.
Wordlessly, Peter tilted his head in the direction Sebastian left, and the two
wolves followed him out silently, supposedly unbeknownst to the other Alpha
attending to his weakened pack mate.
Stiles turned his head slowly, eyeing their retreating bodies and feeling a low
growl reverberating through his chest cavity.
Stiles is not too keen on being lied to.
Chapter End Notes
     Part two coming right up~
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     Ask Stiles and the werecat pack questions here!
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