Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/676063.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      teen_wolf_-_Fandom
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Additional Tags:
      Werewolf_Stiles_Stilinski, Hunter_Scott_McCall, Alpha_Peter, Canonical
      Character_Death, Alternate_Universe_-_Canon_Divergence, Knotting, BAMF
      Stiles_Stilinski, Possessive_Derek, POV_Alternating, Runs_parallel_to
      Season_1
  Collections:
      Sterek_Campaign_Teen_Wolf_Charity_Project
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-02-08 Updated: 2013-04-09 Chapters: 2/? Words: 4656
****** Ushered Into Darkness ******
by orphan_account
Summary
     He was wearing a crisp red dress shirt and a long leather trench coat
     and the minute Stiles set eyes on him, he knew.
     “It's you.” He accused. His brown eyes resisted the urge to turn gold
     as he met the older man's stare. “You're the one who bit me.”
      
      An AU in which Peter wakes up with more control and is able to use
     his stealth and cunning to frame the Argents for Laura's murder. He
     turns Stiles, gets Derek to accept him as alpha, and is on his way to
     cementing his hold on Beacon Hills. His single minded focus is the
     growth of his pack and the extermination of the Argents.
     The only hitch in his plan is his freshly turned Beta who may be
     smarter than even Peter realizes.
Notes
     This is the second of my Sterek Campaign Commissions. This one is for
     Asteria86 who gave me a lovely and compelling prompt that let me
     explore an alternate version of events where Peter woke up with
     better control of his mental faculties and was able to employ more
     cunning in the execution of his vendetta against the Argents.
     This will be a multi-chapter fic (I'm planning on 10 chapters but
     that could change) but expect updates to be a bit slow going since
     I'll be updating this in-between chapters of my other fic Softer than
     Silk, Stronger than Iron.
***** An Introduction *****
He was wearing a crisp red dress shirt and a long leather trench coat and the
minute Stiles set eyes on him, he knew.
“It's you.” He accused. His brown eyes resisted the urge to turn gold as he met
the older man's stare. “You're the one who bit me.”
It hadn't taken him long to figure out what he was. Scott hadn't believed him
at first, and Stiles knew he sounded crazy, telling his friend he thought he'd
been bitten by a werewolf, but he came around once Stiles had started to shift.
Stiles hadn't been human for nearly a month now, his first full moon was
approaching fast, and this was the first time he'd come face to face with his
alpha. He'd always known he was out there - he could feel him every time he
changed. Every time something tested the limits of his control there was a
presence at the back of his mind.
Stiles really should have been suspicious when he received a text from Lydia
asking him to meet her at the lacrosse field after dark. He should've been even
more suspicious when she didn't reply to any subsequent texts. Hell, he had
been suspicious, he wasn't stupid, he was just too young and too horny to put
caution above the chance of finally hooking up with his crush.
His panicking mind had searched for a name to put to the creature that attacked
him. It was too big and too strong to be a rabid dog. Its eyes were a hellish
unnatural red, fangs long and white, and its body was mangled somewhere between
a wolf and a man and covered in coarse black fur.
Werewolf seemed too outrageous a name to put to that creature, but once he had
eliminated all of the other options, the supernatural was all that was left.
He'd thought he would die that night but the creature only pinned him, sunk its
teeth into his side, and then disappeared leaving Stiles clutching his waist
and staring up at the night sky in shock.
“That's right, Stiles.” The man in front of him, his alpha, smirked. “I did.”
“You know my name.”
“You don't think I chose at random?” The man laughed, shook his head, and
stepped closer, closing the space between them. “I've been watching you Stiles.
I saw your potential where no one else did.”
“Yeah?” Stiles challenged “And you couldn't have asked before chomping down on
my tender flesh and turning me into a creature of the night?”
The man rolled his eyes and tsk'd. “Don't be ungrateful. Hasn't your life
improved since I gave you the bite?”
He couldn't deny it had. He'd already made co-captain of the lacrosse team much
to Jackson's chagrin. His father was proud of him. Lydia was giving him the
attention he'd always wanted from her. He'd even been able to use his new found
popularity to help out Scott by introducing him to Lydia's cute new friend,
Allison Argent. The connection had been instantaneous. Honestly, getting the
bite had improved things for everyone he cared about.
He had some struggles with control, sure, but he'd taken to his new found
powers surprisingly well. Once his research had led him to the inevitable
conclusion that he was, in fact, a werewolf, he had adapted quickly.
“Doesn't mean it wasn't rude.” Stiles quirked an eyebrow and folded his arms.
“I didn't even get the courtesy of a sales pitch.”
“Speed, power, strength,” The man waived a hand. “healing, sharper focus,
stronger senses. In light of everything you've experience since becoming one of
us, do I really need to convince you that this was a gift?”
“Who are you?” Stiles finally asked the question that had been on the tip of
his tongue since the man's arrival.
“Of course. Where are my manners?” He grinned, fangs bared. “I'm Peter Hale.”
Stiles bristled as he remembered the details of the fire he'd read in his
father's reports.
“The Hales all died in a fire years ago.”
“Not all of us, obviously.”
*
Derek hung up the phone feeling the kind of heavy sickness and confusion that
could only come from hearing the voice of a man who had been all but dead for
the past six years.
What Peter had to say was no less shocking than the fact that Peter was capable
of calling him at all.
Laura was dead. Derek knew returning to Beacon Hills had been a bad idea. If
only he'd gone with her. If only he could've protected her.
According to his uncle, the Argents were back in Beacon Hills and Laura was
dead by their hands. Peter speculated that when Laura died inheriting her alpha
status must've pushed him over a plateau in his healing process.
Why the role of alpha had passed to Peter and not Derek was a mystery. The
lines of succession often blurred when an alpha died with no heir.
Derek didn't know and he didn't care. He didn't want to be alpha nor did he
deserve to be. He just wanted to avenge his sister. He knew that everything
that had befallen his family, even this, was his fault. He had to make amends
any way he could.
There was nowhere in the city he could run, howl, and mourn his sister as he
should. For the moment he shoved his grief aside and forcibly numbed himself to
his reality. He had to keep going through the motions. He had to get to
California, to reconnect with his uncle, his alpha, the only remainder of his
once thriving pack.
The only things left for him in New York were memories of Laura and, if he
stayed, life as an omega. He had never wanted to return to Beacon Hills but now
he didn't have much of a choice.
Peter promised him justice. Peter promised him pack. He'd already turned
another beta and begun to track his niece's killers but he needed Derek and
Derek wouldn't let him down.
His determination to hide the pain of his sister's loss under fury and a need
for vengeance lasted less than five minutes before he ended up slumped against
Laura's bedroom door with his head in his hands crying like he hadn't since the
days immediately following the fire.
*
Peter knew he had chosen well. He could tell Stiles wasn't pleased with him for
not giving him the opportunity to turn down the bite but with the full moon
approaching he had no choice but to work with Peter. Stiles might be stubborn
and proud but not to the point of allowing it to endanger his father or his
friends.
He needed Peter's knowledge and Peter would give it to him in return for
loyalty.
Or atleast, Peter thought a semblance of loyalty, for the time being.
Stiles had better control than any bitten werewolf Peter had ever encountered.
In the weeks since the bite had taken Peter had watched Stiles. Not once did he
transform, even partially, in front of witnesses. Not even when provoked by
that Lacrosse captain, Jackson, did Stiles falter.
Stiles was clever. he knew what was at stake. Peter had seen him conducting
tests with his best friend, Scott. His theory about controlling his heart rate
was almost perfect and Peter knew that given time he would've discovered the
concept of an anchor all on his own.
Stiles made an excellent werewolf. He was naturally adaptive and his
intelligence blended with his new instincts well. Not to mention his
connections to the police force were a definite bonus.
His friend Scott, however, was going to be a problem if he kept associating
with Allison Argent.
Peter knew that as alpha he had certain sway over Stiles' mind and actions but
he didn't like his chances if it came to pitting Stiles against the boy he
thought of as a brother.
He could feel the rage well up inside him every time Stiles came to training
smelling of that Argent girl. He soothed himself with the knowledge that he had
time, plenty of time, to execute his revenge perfectly.
It was unfortunate he had to kill Laura. Spilling more of his family's blood
was the last thing he wanted but if he didn't, Kate Argent would continue to
live, and there was nothing, nothing, Peter wouldn't do to see her dead.
As long as Derek never found out the truth about his sister's death, everything
would be fine. As for Stiles, Peter could see giving him increasing
responsibilities as time went on and he proved loyal. Perhaps Stiles could be
persuaded to help him recruit. He would need to grow his pack to ensure his own
strength, and while taking a beta by force was always possible it was better if
they came willingly.
He knew Stiles wouldn't understand his vendetta. That would be just between
Derek and himself. It was family business, and while Peter hoped his new pack
would fill that void someday, that day was far in the future.
*
The amount of time Scott spent with Allison was overwhelming. Didn't he realize
Stiles, his best friend, Stiles, had overwhelmingly cool and important werewolf
news to share with him?
Sure he had his new found popularity and people clamoring for his attention,
but they weren't Scott. They weren't his best friend, the only person he could
confide in about the life-altering events of the last month.
When Stiles looked in the mirror these days he could hardly recognize himself.
He'd grown his hair out (he'd been too preoccupied to buzz it), he walked with
more confidence, and Lydia Martin listened when he talked, but none of it was a
substitute for Scott.
Scott seemed far more interested in Allison and their date nights than in the
fact that Stiles had actually gotten his claws into the alpha for a second
before getting thrown flat on his back.
Even worse, when Scott did find time to talk to him, when he did confide in him
about his training sessions with Peter, Scott seemed...less than enthusiastic.
“How do you know you can trust him?” Scott asked and Stiles had to concede it
was a fair point.
“I'm taking it day by day, dude.” Stiles shrugged. “It's not like I've signed
any contracts in blood, Okay? Peter's a bit shady what with the whole surprise-
biting but I figure that comes with the territory with werewolves. The guy
isn't the devil.”
Scott didn't look convinced.
Stiles frowned. He could feel his instinct to protect the pack urging him to
cut Scott out of this part of his life and whispering that his reservations
were dangerous.
He wondered, not for the first time, just how much sway Peter really had over
him.
*
“How do you know it was the Argents?” Derek asked while staring down at the
grave his uncle had prepared for his sister.
Peter placed a hand on his shoulder and Derek could feel the soothing power of
the alpha's touch.
“You don't want to hear about that, Derek.” Peter spoke softly. “What matters
now is that we're together and we're not going to let anything like this happen
again.”
Derek leaned into Peter's touch, needing the reassurance of the only family he
had left.
“I may never be the alpha your father was,” Peter sighed “but there are still
two Hales in Beacon Hills and that's enough to make the Argents pay, isn't it?”
Derek could feel Peter's anger and hate spread to him unchecked. Laura had
valued survival over vengeance. Laura had calmed him with thoughts of a future,
of what they had left, and what they might have again someday.
Peter did just the opposite. Peter drew him back into the past, he set his
heart racing, and provoked his need for blood.
“Yes.” Derek growled, and there was no doubt in his mind it was the right thing
to do.
“Good,” Derek could feel his alpha's approval as if it was a palpable thing.
“tomorrow I'll introduce you to your new pack-brother, but Derek...”
Derek turned to face his uncle as the alpha's tone turned sharp.
“He's a freshly turned beta, and while I've filled him in on the basics about
hunters, we don't want to overwhelm him with the gravity of,” Peter gestured
towards Laura's grave. “this whole situation, do we?”
Derek frowned. Why wouldn't Peter want all the help they could get? Shouldn't
this new beta be involved in all the pack business once he had mastered control
of his transformation?
Peter seemed to sense his reservations and gave him an understanding smile.
“There's always going to be a difference between new family and old, isn't
there? We need to take care of the past before we look to the future. Besides,
you don't really want to throw a pup into this, do you?”
Derek remembered what some of his human cousins had been like after taking the
bite. It could take them months just to get a handle on their new instincts.
They were often confused, aggressive, and difficult to control. The last thing
you wanted to do was hand them any serious responsibility.
“No,” Derek shook his head. “I understand.”
*
“So we're going to meet your nephew,” Stiles said as he started the jeep's
engine. “who just got in from New York, and who is also a werewolf.”
“Yes,” Peter sneered. “That's what I just said.” He expected better of Stiles
than needless repetition.
“Makes sense, honestly.” Stiles laughed. “I remember Derek Hale. Surly kid.
Loved to swim. Not a big talker. I could see him being a creature of the
night.”
“Your powers of recollection are impressive considering you were what, four,
when Derek left Beacon Hills?”
“I was eight!” Stiles protested.
Peter smirked. “Well, I'll have to have a talk with Derek about appearing more
human when he's around eight year olds then.”
“You smirk,” Stiles waggled a finger in Peter's direction. “but children are
very astute!”
“Yes, I'm sure you were a very discerning child. You probably ate only the
highest quality glue.”
Stiles huffed. “Curiosity and daring are hallmarks of the genius.”
“And the dead.” Peter quipped.
*
Woah, Stiles thought upon catching sight of Derek Hale standing on the porch of
his old house. Not a good time to reconfirm our bisexuality, Self.
Probably one of the hardest things about becoming a werewolf was the absolute
lack of privacy.
There was a time when he could ogle anyone and, short of poorly timed boners,
he never had to worry about anyone knowing. Now he had to shower thoroughly
after masturbating lest Peter make some snide remark about productive uses of
his time.
He thought hard about coach Finstock twerking in granny panties but he knew it
was probably too late.
In his defense, Derek Hale was hot.
His one salvation had been that the only other werewolf in town was Peter. His
alpha really couldn't fault him if he came to training smelling like self-love.
He was a teenage boy, damn it, he had needs, but he imagined the last thing
Derek wanted to smell while meeting his new pack member was just how intimately
said new pack member would like to get to know him.
It wasn't anything serious, anyway. His plan to get Lydia to leave Jackson for
him was finally showing results. Sure, Derek had tall, dark, and Byronic nailed
but could he really compete with Lydia's full lips, mane of strawberry blonde
hair, and...
Yeah, thinking about Lydia really wasn't helping the situation.
*
Derek's nose crinkled at the scent of the boy's arousal as he took stock of his
uncle's new beta.
Stiles was tall and lean. He would undoubtedly find his strength in speed and
agility.
Derek decidedly did not dwell long on the form concealed beneath Stiles'
graphic print t-shirt, baggy plaid button-down, and ripped jeans.
There was a keen awareness and intelligence lurking behind his amber eyes. His
flushed cheeks, clear skin, and shining hair attested to his health and youth.
He smelled good. He smelled clean, strong, and obviously interested.
It had been a long time since Derek was with someone. He had the occasional one
night stand with a human just to keep himself in control, but he'd never been
with one of his own kind. He'd never been with someone he could really show his
full strength...
No.
He was appealing but he was too young.
Besides, Derek wasn't looking for a mate, and if he was it wouldn't be some
newly bitten sixteen year old kid.
*
Stiles may have been too caught up in mortification and the scent of his own
arousal to notice the signs of an answering attraction in Derek but Peter had
certainly noticed. The way his nephew's pupils dilated, the sudden quickening
of his heartbeat, and the subtle scent of Derek's interest were not lost on
Peter.
He couldn't stifle a smile. Peter had never known Derek to be with anyone even
though he could tell he wasn't a virgin. He blamed the fire for leaving Derek
homeless and on the run in his prime. Deprived of pack and stability, his
nephew had never had a proper chance to find a mate.
It seemed that chance had provided him an opportunity to ensure Derek's
happiness (and complacency) and Stiles' loyalty to the pack at the same time.
***** Closer *****
Chapter Notes
     Apologies for the wait between chapters. This one is a bit shorter
     than chapter one but I needed an interlude before things pick up pace
     in chapter three!
Stiles' eyes widened in shock. His claws were buried in his alpha's stomach.
His claws were actually in Peter. He'd managed to land a blow. A real, honest
to goodness hit.
“Oh yeah!” Stiles pulled back and threw his arms up in the air. “Who's the
alpha now, biiiiit--”
He shrieked as his back made contact with the hard forest floor and the full
weight of his, rather terrifyingly strong, alpha bore down on him. “--ch.
Aaaaaah.”
Stiles scrambled to bare his throat before the alpha retaliated. “Joking,
joking!”
“No one likes a jester, Stiles.” Peter purred in that low, absolutely
dangerous, tone that seemed to carry more threat than even his alpha roars.
“Um, yes, they do.” He couldn't help himself. Back talk was second nature to
him. “The occupation would never have existed otherwise.”
Stiles heard a snort and saw two black boots step into his line of vision.“Quit
while you're ahead, kid.”
God, Derek's voice was like velvet. Training with him had taught Stiles an
entirely new meaning to self-control. He definitely couldn't afford to let that
control slip while his alpha was still on top of him. So, not thinking about
Derek's velvet smooth voice then.
Peter stood up and Derek offered Stiles a hand to pull him to his feet.
Peter's eyes flickered between them. “Forty laps around the preserve. Stiles,
if you can beat Derek I won't make you drill breaking yourself out of chains.
Derek, if he beats you I should think the shame would be sufficient
punishment.”
“Do you really have to try his patience like that?” Derek grumbled, obviously
not pleased to be running laps with Stiles. He'd take it personally but he
couldn't blame the guy. Stiles knew he probably reeked of arousal in spite of
his best efforts.
“He's such a wise-ass, you'd think he'd be able to take a joke.” Stiles
grumbled in return. He could hear Peter laugh in the distance.
*
He came pretty close to beating Derek, but he still couldn't compete with
Derek's experience and with the seamless transformation and total control that
came with being a born wolf.
He cursed the injustice of it all as he spent the next four hours bound to a
chair trying to break the increasingly sturdy chains Peter wrapped around him.
The alpha just stood slumped against the far wall, sipping on a bottled water,
and mocking him with his eyes.
“Don't be so gentle.” Peter snarked “You're a werewolf not a butterfly trying
to wriggle out of your cocoon.”
Stiles glared at him and dislocated his shoulder to slump out of the chains. He
couldn't bite back the howl of pain even though he knew it would heal once
popped back into its socket.
“Oh,” Peter's lip curled “has our pretty boy bruised a wing?”
“Fuck you.” Stiles spit out and Peter just laughed. He came up to him, put a
hand on his shoulder, rubbing softly, and drained some of Stiles' pain.
“You did well, Stiles.” He said and it scared Stiles a little how much the wolf
in him preened.
*
He's a show off. He's a loud mouthed little punk and a show off.
After a week of training with Stiles, that is Derek's conclusion. Sure, he's
talented. He's doing great for having just been turned but does he have to be
so...
Derek doesn't actually know what to call him. Cocky? Excitable? Vibrant?
Annoying? Enthusiastic? All of the above?
All he knows is that whatever adjective Stiles is...it's driving him crazy.
The race shouldn't have been as close as it was. Even though he won, it was a
blow to his ego that he had to try at all.
Derek may have grown a little complacent living in New York City where he as
unable to go for long runs in his beta form. It's entirely possible he's a bit
rusty at the whole pack thing. In fact, he knows he is. For years it was him,
Laura, Laura's string of human boyfriends who never lasted long, and boxes of
Chinese take-out.
He's back in Beacon Hills now though and if that freshly bitten brat (with his
admittedly impressive control) thinks he's going to challenge Derek for his
role as their alpha's second he has another thing coming.
Stiles is fast, his control is impeccable for a new wolf, but Derek is still
stronger. He still has more experience. If Stiles keeps metaphorically biting
his ears like some hyper puppy Derek's going to have to get him belly-up.
Derek felt himself blush and quickly took control over his own thoughts.
If he pushed Stiles around a little, well, it was about showing dominance,
about training him, and helping him adjust to pack life.
It wasn't like he wanted to touch him or scent him with the pads of his fingers
when he pinned him down.
*
Peter needed more betas. He needed to increase his strength. It nagged at him
constantly. More Argents would be coming to Beacon Hills soon. They knew about
Laura's death. They knew he was awake. They knew Derek had returned and that
Peter had bitten a new beta, though they didn't know who.
Neither side had made a move yet but the Argents were calling for
reinforcements (one of whom would likely be Kate) and Peter knew he needed
reinforcements too.
There would be a war, he'd make sure of that, and in war there are always
casualties on both sides. He needed enough pawns to ensure those casualties
wouldn't be anyone he deemed valuable.
Stiles was perfect. He's better than he should've been, much better than even
Peter expected him to be. He's a strong addition to the Hale pack but he comes
to training sometimes stinking of Argent.
Peter watched him. He knew about his best friend Scott and how the boy trailed
after Allison Argent. He had hoped that the McCall boy's infatuation with her
would fade, or that she would get tired of him, but that didn't seem to be
happening. Biting Scott would've ensured Stiles' loyalty but he can't get close
to him when he's constantly with the hunters.
He saw how Stiles welcomed Allison with literal open arms. There's a hint of
jealousy for the way she takes Scott's time, sure, but as weeks pass she
becomes Stiles friend in her own right. Stiles likes her. That's a complication
Peter didn't see coming but one he'll swiftly deal with. She's too much of
threat to Stiles' allegiance.
He knew he couldn't guarantee Stiles' loyalty (at least not until he had him
mated off to Derek) and if he sympathized with the Argents he might rebel and
Peter really, really doesn't want to have to kill such a promising beta.
It's a possibility though, and if things don't go according to plan (they
rarely do), and he can't get Derek and Stiles to cement their bond before he
has to move against the Argents....
Well, then he's going to need more betas. He's going to need them anyway but
especially if he has to dispose of Stiles. He doesn't want to, of course. He's
fond of Stiles. He likes the boy's wit. He enjoys the challenge.
He needed to ask Stiles to help him recruit soon but the time wasn't right yet.
Stiles may have taken to being a werewolf well but Peter can sense the hint of
anger simmering inside Stiles. He didn't like being taken against his will. He
doesn't like that Peter didn't ask. He only tolerates it because he needs
Peter, needs his training, feels the pull of pack, and some dark part of him
probably wonders if it even matters when the pay off was so great.
Peter needed to extinguish that hint of anger. He needed to remind Stiles of
everything he'd given him, of everything he could do now, of all the reasons he
just shouldn't care about how he received the bite, only that he did. Only then
would Stiles be willing turn over whichever classmates he thinks would be
suitable for joining the pack.
So he took Stiles out and threw around a little cash. He got some much needed
repairs done on Stiles' unsightly blue jeep (Peter hates that jeep). He bought
him dinner. He talked about how pack means family and security. He promised to
help Stiles pay his tuition when he goes to college so his dad won't have to
worry about it. That, above all, leaves stars in Stiles' eyes.
Stiles is smart but he still has the same weaknesses as everyone else. He could
still be bought without even realizing it.
Peter knew he was winning him over.
*
“You want him.”
Derek groaned and didn't meet his uncle's eyes. Instead, he turned around and
turned off the coffee maker. They were in the loft Peter insisted Derek rent
while they begin renovations on the old house. Derek didn't want to renovate
their old house but Peter demanded he call a contractor.
“He's attractive.” Derek admitted. “Doesn't mean I want him.”
“You're lonely and in need of release.” Peter wrinkled his nose while Derek
poured his coffee and joined him at the kitchen table. “You're constantly tense
and you reek of frustration.”
“Do we have to talk about this?” Derek snapped and Peter sent him a sharp look.
“He wants you and I've smelled your desire Derek so don't even try to deny you
want him.” Peter leaned forward. “He needs to feel connect to the pack. You
need to relax. It's a good idea, Derek.”
“He's sixteen.”
“Good.” Peter sipped his coffee. “Teenagers are susceptible to forming intense
bonds.”
Derek stiffened. Peter couldn't know about his relationship with Kate. He just
couldn't. Derek had never told anyone. But the look Peter sent him as he
finished that sentence was filled with ice and Derek couldn't help but wonder
if he knew.
He couldn't know. Derek was sure if Peter knew then he would have killed him
already.
“You've smelled the Argent girl on him,” Peter continued “and his friend McCall
who is spending increasing amounts of time with the hunters. He needs to cut
those ties, Derek, and if he's to do that, he need new ones to supplement
them.”
Derek held his ground. “I'm not looking for a mate.”
“I won't force you.” Peter shrugged. “Just spend time with him. It can be as
platonic as you like.”
The problem was that Derek didn't know if he could keep it platonic.
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