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Title: Red in Revenge – Steter Secret Santa 2025

TW Disclaimer: All rights reserved to Jeff Davis and MTV. This fanfiction on the other hand is entirely mine. No money is made with this, though reviews are more than welcomed.

Tags: m/m, season/series 05, Erica Lives, Boyd Lives, Chimera Stiles, Pack Alpha Stiles, Spark Stiles, Pack Feels, post-Nogitsune, hurt/comfort, fluff, f/f, m/f

Main Pairing: Peter/Stiles

Side Pairings: Boyd/Erica, Malia/Kira

Teen Wolf Characters: Mieczysław 'Stiles' Stilinski, Peter Hale, Derek Hale, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd, Isaac Lahey, Cora Hale, Malia Tate, Kira Yukimura, Sheriff Noah Stilinski

Summary: Even as a feral Alpha, Peter had known two things: Stiles would make a magnificent werewolf and a perfect mate. After his resurrection, he’s patient, gaining Stiles’ trust and friendship. Things don't go according to plan. Peter wanted to see Stiles as a wolf, but not like this. Not forced into it by the Dread Doctors. Yet Peter was right; Stiles was absolutely magnificent.

Red in Revenge

Steter Secret Santa 2025

There was a thrill of intrigue the first time they met. That clever boy, tricking and trapping a feral Alpha and having the guts to taunt him too. Oh, he was afraid – the fear was rolling off of him in delicious waves – but that was what made him so brave and impressive.

The second time they met, Peter got to see that bravery and cleverness were wrapped up in a beautiful package when big doe-eyes stared at him in fear and realization at the hospital. He recognized the tantalizing scent of the boy’s fear, knew immediately who he was facing.

It was their third meeting that had Peter know, without a doubt, that this boy had to be his. Peter had just finished setting his contingency plan into motion by biting Lydia Martin to activate her dormant banshee genes – and tie her to Peter – when the lovely boy came running up to them, collapsing next to Lydia and cradling her.

Peter got up and stood above him, enjoying the view quite a bit. He curled his clawed fingers underneath Stiles’ chin and forced the boy to look up at him. The view got even better. Dark honey eyes stared up at Peter with both fear and defiance, tears clinging to long lashes. He was so very pretty like that and Peter could get used to having the boy on his knees before him like that. And there was a certain underlying spike of sweet arousal too, mixing beautifully with the scent of fear.

It was the combination of that arousal and the defiance that thrilled Peter, that sealed the deal for him and made him want.

In Peter’s experience, there were four responses to fear. Fight, flight, freeze and fuck.

Freeze was the boring one. Prey instinct, panic instinct of indecisiveness. Not doing anything.

Flight was also a prey-instinct, but at least thrilling to the predator who got to give chase.

Fight was where things got interesting. A sign that maybe, he was facing another predator. Or at least someone who wasn’t a coward, even if they died at Peter’s claws in the end.

Fuck was the most amusing one. Either it was a type of bargain – trying to save themselves by offering something else that might be appealing – or, and Peter much preferred that one, it was plain, genuine arousal. When the adrenaline and thrill of fear mixed into something else.

Stiles? Stiles was giving him a delightful combination of fight and fuck here. Peter doubted the boy was fully aware of it, the adrenaline might drown out any desire in his mind right now. But Peter found himself quite willing to show the boy the thrill of having a wolf at his jugular. There was nothing more satisfying than someone who was acutely aware of just how dangerous the wolf was and who still sought to submit to it. And looking at Stiles like that, with his mouth hanging open a little, obediently kneeling at Peter’s feet, Peter thought the boy would take quite well to submitting. Well, once the little spitfire got tamed just a bit.

Not too much though, Peter did enjoy the fire in his eyes and the defiance. Stiles wasn’t just prey, Stiles presented all the qualities Peter had never thought he’d find in any one person – the qualities he would seek in a mate. Bravery, a quick and clever mind, loyalty, a challenge, and beauty.

He grabbed the boy off the lacrosse field and took him away from prying eyes, to a parking garage. The shocked teen seemed to snap out of the fear for the most part as he started beautifully snarking at Peter. It was baffling just how easily Stiles slipped into banter with someone he should fear, should even resent for what Peter had done to those Stiles cared about. Yet the boy’s tongue was quick and sharp and didn’t seem to fear any consequences.

Peter would love to teach him about consequences. He’d make sure to make it fun for them both.

“Do you want the bite?”

It was an impulse offer. Peter was still half out of his mind, it was a scattered place dominated by his need for revenge – but now there was another need there too. He wanted, needed, to have the boy. Holding Stiles’ wrist so close to his face, he was drowning in the boy’s scent. Sweet and thick like honey, making Peter’s mouth water, but with the sharp sting of lightning crackling in the air.

Peter was offering the boy a bite. Or two, perhaps. Yes, he was convinced Stiles would make a magnificent werewolf, Peter could feel arousal coursing through his veins at the idea of Stiles with golden-glowing eyes and fangs, growling and snarling as he ran – and as Peter gave chase. But the much more important bite he wanted to give the boy was a mate-bite. He wanted to have, to claim, to make sure nobody could take the clever, snarky boy away from him again.

Stiles pulled away, just before Peter’s fangs could sink into his wrist. The beast in him was snarling and demanded to pounce, to pin the boy down and make him submit. Despite how shortly he’d known the boy, Peter knew that Stiles would never be forced into submission by anyone. And surprisingly enough, Peter didn’t want to force it either. Surprising, because so far, since he’d woken up from his coma, he had not cared for anyone but himself, had taken without hesitation and forced his will onto others. Derek, Scott, Lydia. They didn’t matter right now, they were means to an end. Tools in Peter’s revenge, nothing more.

Stiles was something more.

If Peter forced him now, the boy would resent him, would rebel and defy him at every turn. Would certainly find a way to make Peter pay and make it hurt too. No, Peter didn’t want that. Peter wanted to earn the boy’s submission. Even though Peter could hear the lie in the boy’s words, Peter let him get away with it. It wasn’t enough that Peter knew it was a lie, he needed Stiles to realize it, to understand it, to openly and truly want it. To want Peter.

So Peter drove off, leaving his boy behind. Ready to wait for him.

/break\

Stiles was tired. He knew he used to experience a whole host of emotions all at the same time, sometimes even contradictory ones. He used to buzz with life. Now, he felt like he was just forcing himself through the motions, too tired to care about anything. Tired of everything.

He was tired of loss. First his mother, the loss that had cut so deep and shaped him. Shaped him into someone wary and fiercely protective. He kept a small circle for a reason. And then the made the mistake of letting others in. Scott dragged Allison, Lydia and Jackson into their lives. And then came Derek with his puppies. Suddenly, there were people in Stiles’ life that he cared about, to varying degrees and for varying reasons.

He certainly never meant to care for Jackson Whittemore and maybe he hadn’t even really cared about Jackson, as a person, but rather as a concept. The five of them had worked together when Peter in his feral Alpha state had terrorized the town and it had formed a kind of bond. And Stiles knew how much Jackson leaving hurt Lydia. So in a way, Jackson was a loss for Stiles too. By association, by the hole he left in the group dynamic they had formed.

Boyd and Erica got captured by the Alpha Pack and this hole hit harder, closer to home, because Stiles had allowed himself to grow attached, when Scott had joined the Hale Pack – under false pretenses, as it were, but for Stiles it had been real – and then the Argent basement had happened and it was unlike anything Stiles had experienced until then. It forged a bond too. For months, they were gone. And then they were found, but not long after… Not long after they were saved from the bank vault, Derek had given up his Alpha spark to save his sister’s life. There was no Hale Alpha anymore, and so there was no Hale Pack either.

While Isaac easily integrated into Scott’s pack, Boyd and Erica refused. Partially because of Allison, because she never apologized to them for what she had done to them and neither Erica nor Boyd wanted to be in a pack with her as the Alpha Mate. But partially, and Stiles knew that, it was all the loss and pain. They had wanted to run away even before the basement. And then they got captured and tortured by Gerard Argent. And then they got captured and tortured by the Alpha Pack. And now their pack was just… gone. So Stiles understood why they packed up and left.

Derek and Cora were next. They left. Why would they stay. Derek was no longer an Alpha, didn’t have a pack to call his own, and a newly Alphaed teenager suddenly took over the territory that had been Hale for two hundred years.

“You should rest some, darling. You look…”

Stiles snorted at the way Peter trailed off. He lifted his head to look at the former Alpha. Peter hadn’t gone with Cora and Derek. But Peter also wasn’t a part of Scott’s pack. He wondered if Peter was doing the same thing the twins were doing; trying to become part of the pack. No. Stiles’ gut told him that Peter would never want that, never accept it – even if Scott offered it (and Stiles doubted Scott would). Peter Hale was a proud man, too proud to submit to someone else, much less to Scott, the only Beta Peter had turned when he had been Alpha. To now have the roles reversed certainly would be a humiliation to the Hale wolf.

“I haven’t been sleeping well,” Stiles sighed and rubbed his face, tired.

A heavy hand landed in his neck, squeezing and, more importantly, draining his pain. Stiles’ eyelids fluttered shut as he gave himself to the sensation. It wasn’t just that he was tired of loss, he was tired period. His dreams turned into twisted nightmares that left him doubting reality. Even now, he wasn’t entirely sure if this was real or just another dream that would turn into something horrid.

Because there was something so surreal about the serenity he found when he was with Peter. It had started while they were hunting the Alpha Pack, when Stiles found himself forced to work together with the wolf. They’d set Peter on fire, Derek had torn his throat out – but that hadn’t kept Peter down for long. No, the bastard just resurrected himself and then inserted himself into their lives and Stiles wanted to set him on fire again out of pure spite. Instead, Peter proved his usefulness. The man was smart and cunning and had what everyone else in their group lacked – knowledge about the supernatural world.

Derek, born wolf that he was, had been fifteen when his pack died and had spent the following six years hiding out in an apartment in New York with his sister. They hadn’t even built a pack of their own, and Laura didn’t have much that she could teach Derek either. Deaton had vast knowledge and was ever unwilling to share it. Throwing little kennels of it out whenever it suited his needs. Like telling Stiles he was a Spark when it was beneficial, but never following up on it and never teaching Stiles how to actually do something useful with whatever magic he had.

Peter had the knowledge, from being raised in the pack and spending all his life in it, drenched in the wisdom of the Hales and soaking up every new piece of information he could gain. Knowledge was power and Stiles had never met anyone more power-hungry than Peter Hale. Or maybe Stiles just recognized a part of himself in the wolf there.

It was funny, in a way. Months ago, in the parking garage, Stiles had claimed he didn’t want to be like Peter. At the time, that was true. At the time, Peter had been feral, insane and untethered. Things were different now. Peter was different now. No longer feral, much more sane and recovering from all the trauma he had suffered, and… for some reason, more anchored.

Stiles kept wondering about that. He knew Derek’s anchor was his anger, Scott’s anchor was Allison, Isaac’s anchor was his father, as fucked up as it was. Boyd and Erica had made themselves each other’s anchors, before they ran. What anchored Peter Hale? His revenge? Safe in the knowledge that Kate Argent was dead? His home land? The territory of his family?

Whatever it was, Peter was a more grounded person now. Got to show off how smart he was, how… efficient. Oh, Stiles knew that Peter had killed the Darach. Where Derek and Scott had allowed her to slip away – how had they not actually gotten rid of the body after Deucalion tore her throat out, even if not explicitly making sure she was dead, they should have at least buried her body somewhere which would have helped in the not surviving thing (but also what kind of fail wolves were they that their superior hearing and noses didn’t clue them in on the fact that she’d survived?) – Peter had caught her before she could do any more damage. Stiles had seen it.

He’d been drawn to the Nemeton, like a calling. Ever since they had performed that damn ritual with Deaton, the tree seemed to haunt Stiles. It featured in the majority of his nightmares too.

“You’re too quiet.”

Stiles looked up slowly, only now realizing that Peter’s hand was still in his neck. The book Stiles was reading, or had been reading, was laying limp in his lap. Stiles was trying to read up on the Oni, on kitsune in general. Kira was the only one really helpful in that. Ironically enough, not because she was a kitsune since she hadn’t even known about that herself. She was invested in research. The two of them met up in the library regularly, but Stiles knew the Hales had books and the Hales had Peter, so he had gone to the loft after another dead end.

Derek had returned and Stiles couldn’t fully figure out why. He said he had come back to teach Scott how to be an Alpha, but that made no sense to Stiles considering Derek had struggled with being an Alpha himself and had never quite succeeded at it – and that’s not even mentioning where Derek’s dead mother told him to do it. So the loft was research central again and Peter continued lurking about too.

“Maybe I just don’t have anything to say, Peter,” Stiles sighed.

“I don’t believe that,” Peter chuckled amused, tilting his head at Stiles. “I have never met anyone with more opinions and a stronger need to voice them than you, sweetheart.”

“Maybe I’m just tired of voicing them,” Stiles amended. “Maybe I’m tired of not being heard.”

He leaned back against the couch, feeling the weight of those words deep in his chest. He was slowly growing tired of yelling at windmills. Small things kept piling up, having somewhat culminated in the human sacrifices – he kept yelling about them, about how this wasn’t a werewolf way to kill, about how there was a pattern – and he was only ever listened to too late. He was tired of not being listened to.

“I always hear you, Stiles,” Peter’s eyes seemed to dig deep into Stiles’ soul, like they were trying to unearth something within him. “I always see you and I always hear you. You’re the only one in this dull town worth listening to. So don’t stop talking.”

Stiles swallowed and for the first time in weeks, there was a flutter in his stomach. Not butterflies, not some childish, romantic notion like that. No, it felt like something within him stirring, fluttering awake as it unfurled. Like something waking up. He didn’t know if that was good or bad yet.

/break\

When Derek and Cora left Beacon Hills, Peter didn’t begrudge them. He was surprised when they asked him to leave with them, but he had to decline. They thought he was clinging onto the territory, but he stopped caring about that. Nobody else did, why should he. No, at this point, the only thing he truly cared about was Stiles.

The obsession of a feral Alpha only got more intense when Peter got to know the boy better. When Peter got to experience what it was like to fight on the same side as that clever mind. Peter’s want was a near physical thing at this point. He wouldn’t leave, not without his mate.

Derek came back, to Peter’s great surprise. To teach Scott, ironic as it was. He seemed more settled, the time he had spent with Cora had done him some good. No longer being Alpha was doing him some good. It had been a pressure and responsibility that Derek just wasn’t made for.

“Stiles is sick,” Derek whispered when he entered the loft.

Peter froze at those words. He tried not to show it, but how could he possibly cover up the anxious anguish that his wolf was experiencing. The problem with humans was that they got sick and that being ‘sick’ could range from sneezing a lot to death.

“Define sick,” Peter requested and turned to face his nephew.

Derek wouldn’t meet his eyes and Peter felt his stomach drop. Their relationship was still strained – would always be haunted by the ghost of Laura, for the both of them; Derek’s resentment of Peter for killing her, Peter’s resentment for Derek and Laura to leave and abandon him – but it had vastly improved since Derek’s return to Beacon Hills, this second time around.

“We were at the hospital,” Derek halted. “I was in the waiting room with Scott. I heard… I don’t remember the name, but it’s… the same thing that killed his mother.”

“Frontotemporal dementia,” Peter whispered, swallowing hard.

Derek shot him a look, but didn’t comment. His nephew knew that Peter had a perhaps slightly unhealthy obsession with the boy. After coming back from the dead, Peter learned everything he could about Stiles, that included his family history.

Peter had read the patient files. Both, that of Claudia Stilinski, but also Stiles’. After he had been admitted to the hospital when his mother had attacked him, had forgotten who he was. Seeing pictures of a young, wide-eyed and gangly pup with bruises blossoming over his torso and around his throat had made Peter want to roar and resurrect Claudia Stilinski so he could put her in the grave again himself. Rationally, he knew it hadn’t been her, had been the sickness – not too unlike the way his feral state had dictated his actions – but the wolf just saw that his mate had been hurt, when he was a defenseless, little pup.

“There’s no cure,” Peter said, his fingers curling around his chin. “Scott needs to turn him.”

Bile rose in Peter’s chest at that thought. The thought of another Alpha’s fangs in his mate, of Stiles becoming a wolf – but Beta to another Alpha, part of a pack that wasn’t Peter’s. He swallowed it, because anything would be better than losing Stiles for good. If he had to, Peter would beg Scott for it. He knew that boy was still not in tune enough with his wolf, had no desire to actually build a werewolf pack. Scott’s pack of misfits consisted of two humans, a banshee, a kitsune and one other wolf. He had yet to turn a Beta of his own, or accept more wolves into the pack. Peter had his doubts about this.

“He offered,” Derek said, causing Peter’s head to snap up in surprise. “He told Stiles, if there is nothing else they can do, he would give him the Bite.”

Well, Peter will be damned. He may yet develop some sense of respect for Scott after all. Then again, Stiles had always been the only thing they had in common.

“He’ll be a magnificent wolf,” Peter whispered with a faint smile. “I always knew that.”

Derek stared at him for a very long moment. “You regret not turning him when you had the chance.”

It wasn’t even phrased as a question. A statement, rooted in how well his nephew knew him. And yet it was wrong. Peter didn’t regret, because he knew Stiles would have resented him for it. And right now, Peter and Stiles were… allies, on the verge of friends. They traded barbs and quips, planned and researched and strategized together. Stiles let him close. Forcing Stiles into being a wolf would have alienated him so much, Peter wouldn’t have this. He’d much rather have this camaraderie, willingly given by a human Stiles, than a pack-bond, forced onto an unwilling wolf.

/break\

Stiles idly wondered which would have been worse. Maybe the dementia would have been kinder than having a chaos demon hijack his body and hurt and kill while using Stiles’ face. Wearing him like a costume, moving him like a puppet on strings. Maybe the dementia would have been kinder because Stiles would have been blessed with forgetting.

Instead, he was stuck remembering everything.

Even after the demon was gone, he still retained many of its memories. Some, he was aware of. Others were more subconscious. He’d been over at Kira’s for sushi and slasher movies and was suddenly talking to Noshiko in Japanese, fluently. They faced a monster and Stiles just knew something about it that he shouldn’t know. The first time he realized he still had the demon’s memories – still had a part of it in him – he had a panic attack and then threw up.

But those weren’t the only things he remembered. He also remembered what the demon had done while using Stiles’ body. Remembered driving the sword into Scott, remembered what his flesh’s resistance felt like as the katana bore into him, remembered the look of fear and confusion in his best friend’s eyes. He remembered watching Allison die in Scott’s arms.

He remembered.

And he wished he could forget.

But they got rid of the demon. Stiles was saved, was alright. Everything was good now. Right?

Always willing to rather distract himself and focus on helping someone else instead of thinking about his own problems and issues, he kind of latched onto Malia. This one was a little different than the usual weres he helped. Stiles now had experience teaching werewolves how to be wolves, he’d never taught someone how to be human. But Malia had been stuck in full-shift for the past eight years, she was disconnected from her human instincts, from concepts like modesty. Survival was on the forefront of her mind.

Stiles knew who the obvious person was to seek out to help her.

“This is stupid,” Malia growled, eyes flashing blue.

Peter didn’t even look impressed as he flexed his claws. “It’s basics. You need to learn the basics first. You’re more coyote than human right now and you need to find a balance.”

She growled again. Stiles snickered to himself. He’d tried some things, but he didn’t know what the wolf – or coyote, in this case – really felt like, inside. He had had an easy time teaching turned wolves to focus on the humanity that he too had and anchor themselves on it. Malia had kind of the opposite problem, she was anchored in her coyote and disconnected from her human side. Peter was the only born were left in Beacon Hills – Derek seemed to have left?

“Where’s Derek?” Stiles asked as that thought crossed his mind.

Peter, in the middle of teaching Malia to rein in the Beta-shift when angry, paused. “I assume he is with the pups.”

Stiles immediately started flailing. “Hold on, what pups?! Did he knock someone up while he was gone with Cora? Is he back with the baby momma? Tell me more, Peter!”

Peter snorted, but it sounded more fond than annoyed or like he thought Stiles was an idiot (yes, there was nuance, yes, Stiles recognized it. Maybe reason for concern that he had gotten this good at reading Peter).

“Not those kind of pups. Cora and the other former Hale Pack Betas,” Peter clarified. “When Vernon and Erica left Beacon Hills, Cora sent them to her old pack after contacting her… Alpha. When Cora and Derek left, they went there too, but… Derek couldn’t stay there, it didn’t feel like home to him. I would assume Derek left with Isaac to bring him to that pack too.”

“You assume,” Stiles repeated, narrowing his eyes. “So you don’t know.”

Peter gave a careless shrug and returned his attention onto Malia. “Our relationship may have improved, but we don’t exactly call and text daily. He doesn’t let me know what he’s doing unless he thinks it’ll affect me too.”

Stiles pursed his lips at that. No. Something was off here. Derek may have ducked out on Peter, but the Sourwolf and Stiles had worked up to a friendship. He would have told Stiles if he left town.

“What’s going on in that clever mind of yours?” Peter asked, voice low and eyes intense as though they could see right through Stiles.

Stiles sucked his lower lip into his mouth and chewed on it. “I’ll tell you when I know.”

“Great. Can we focus on the claws again?” Malia asked, looking annoyed between them. “Because dad signed me up for high school and I should be able to pass as human when school starts.”

“…High school?” Stiles echoed baffled. “But you weren’t even in middle school, how are you supposed to catch up to all of that…?”

Malia gave a frustrated shrug, her eyes glowing blue and her claws out again. Peter gently took her hand and eased her fist open, massaging her palm until the claws retracted again. She shot him a near grateful look at that.

/break\

So Derek was, by technicality, in Mexico. Just not with Cora’s pack. Stiles reluctantly texted Boyd, to check. He… hadn’t really reached out to Boyd and Erica since they left Beacon Hills. They’d left for a reason, after all. Surely they didn’t want to be reminded of it. Even if he missed them.

Apparently, Chris Argent had dropped Isaac off with the pack before he headed for France himself. But neither Cora, nor Isaac, Boyd or Erica had heard anything from Derek. Which officially made Derek a missing person.

Stiles started digging and investigating, with Kira helping him in the digging and Peter and Malia providing the sniffers to do the investigating. Malia had been reluctant about Peter at first, she’d heard the stories about the murder spree from Scott and Lydia, after all, but in the end, he proved to be a good mentor and the only one who really understood her connection to the coyote. After all, Scott was now officially the only were left in the McCall Pack and he’d never really found that connection to his wolf, even after becoming Alpha. But Peter, who’d been born with it and didn’t see it as a separate entity but just a manifestation of a part of himself, he understood.

So they searched for Derek and found out that a clan of hunters had apparently snatched him up.

Ironically, things only got worse from thereon out. The hunters didn’t have him, a very alive Kate Argent who was a werejaguar thanks to Peter’s claws (oh, Stiles was gonna make Peter hear about that for a long time. How had he not made sure to actually properly kill her like seriously). Suddenly, Stiles was babysitting a fifteen year old Derek. Then there were Berserkers and assassins and all of a sudden, Stiles really had no time left to focus on any trauma from the Nogitsune. The patented Stilinski Avoidance Method once again succeeded. Yay, him.

Assassins. Trying to kill all of Stiles’ friends. Well, the ones he hadn’t killed already, anyway.

(He could still hear Allison’s rattling breath as she reassured them that it was alright. And, more importantly, he could hear the deafening silence when she had stopped breathing.)

Scott turned his first beta and was now largely too busy trying to parent a teen wolf with anger issues. When they weren’t busy nearly being killed by assassins or by Kate Argent, of course.

“So—o…” Stiles drawled as he plopped down onto the couch in the loft. “Congrats, it’s a girl?”

Peter shot him a dry look, while Kira choked on a squeak. Both Derek and Malia just gave off that glowering Hale silence. Yeah, now that he knew, Stiles could really see the family resemblance. The deadpool had listed Malia as Malia Hale, which had sent Stiles down a rabbit hole until he unearthed the fact that yep, she was Peter’s daughter, who had been given up for adoption by Talia Hale, apparently. Alpha-claw magic unearthed Peter’s memories that had been taken by Talia too.

Kira had come along as emotional support for her girlfriend. Which was still a new thing but had started out when they had gone to save Derek. Sparks were flying in the night club, apparently. And after that, the two danced around each other for a bit. Or, Kira danced. Malia coyote-courted her. Which led to confusion and some trouble with the neighbors about the dead deer on the Yukimuras’ front-lawn. They worked it out and now they were officially a thing.

“I just don’t really get it why your sister would take your memories though,” Stiles blurted out.

“Most likely,” Peter mused, his eyes never leaving Malia. “To protect us both from Corinne. Your mother. She is… dangerous.”

Because they didn’t have enough dangerous threats in their lives as was. Stiles heaved a sigh and leaned sideways against Derek, who just shot him a look but didn’t say anything otherwise. Stiles found himself seeking out the wolves more, ever since the Nogitsune.

As much as he tried to ignore it all – the memories, the trauma, the things that he had done and that had been done to him – there were certain aspects of it all that Stiles couldn’t ignore. The nightmares that still barely let him get a full night’s sleep. The way this body just was somewhat wrong. The nightmares were hard to hide from his dad, but at least his dad understood them. The thing with his body? He hadn’t told anyone about.

When the Nogitsune had split from him, it had created a new body and spit Stiles into it. And the body was… faulty. That was the only way Stiles could describe it, really. It ran colder than it should, he was always so cold. Sometimes, it hurt. Sometimes, it didn’t seem to know that it needed food. Sometimes, he felt like he was rattling inside a coffin, his consciousness locked into this body.

He tried his best to ignore it, he forced smiles for the people around him. And he kept it to himself. Because they had all been working so hard to save him, so what good did it do to tell them that he wasn’t alright? It was okay. He could deal with this on his own.

/break\

Peter had ever only stuck around Beacon Hills for his clever boy. And then his clever boy had to bring other people into Peter’s life. Oh, Stiles was a big part of why Peter and Derek’s relationship had improved – was still improving – because the boy being willing to work with Peter had gone a long way in making Derek reluctantly trust Peter. Stiles had herded Cora in and made Cora and Peter spend more time together, before she had left again.

And then Stiles brought Malia. Now, Derek and Cora were different, they were his family. Letting them in again, letting them close again, was a matter of reconciliation. But Peter had no plans to grow attached to anyone new. Only Stiles.

Against better judgment, Peter grew attached to the vicious young coyote. She was headstrong and fierce. The revelation that Malia was his daughter changed everything. Changed Peter’s entire world. He was glad now, that his clever boy had brought her to him, that he was so utterly incapable of denying Stiles anything, that he had let himself get attached to her. He didn’t know how this reunion, if one could even call it that, would have gone had they not spent months together already, had Peter not become her mentor and training her how to be human.

With Malia came Kira. Not just a girlfriend, because Malia was born were enough to be courting the girl already. An intended mate. Not to mention, Peter had noticed over recent months that the young kitsune was also important to Stiles. Which meant that she was pack to the two people Peter cared most about in this world. Which meant that she was pack to him too.

Things seemed to be going so well. Or at least Peter had thought so. With Derek, Stiles, Malia and Kira, he felt as though he had a pack again. He may not be part of the McCall Pack, but he wasn’t entirely sure how far that applied to Derek either, if he was being honest. There were pack-bonds here, whatever the implication of them was. Peter thought things were going well.

And then things blew up in his face in Mexico. He’d never meant for them to escalate that way. He had worked with Kate, yes, but certainly not as partners. He’d used her and fully intended to rip out her throat for good once she fulfilled her purpose. And then things went away from him.

He’d thought he could use Kate to get Scott’s Alpha spark. Reclaim his territory from the inexperienced young wolf who still wasn’t being a wolf. It was ridiculous, quite frankly. His pack had one turned Beta wolf now. The rest of his pack were a coyote, a banshee, a kitsune and a human. How was that the great True Alpha? Yes, non-wolves could be a part of a werewolf pack, but by its definition, a werewolf pack ought to have werewolves. Instead of gathering a strong pack to protect the territory – especially in the face of the threat that the assassins and the deadpool had posed – Scott seemed to be mostly feeling guilty about his bitten Beta and had no intentions of adding members to the pack. This was not the legacy of the Hale Pack. These were the lands of Peter’s family that had always been protected with wolves. How could an Alpha who didn’t even want to be a wolf take that legacy from Peter? No. No, Peter wanted to reclaim it.

What Peter hadn’t factored in, however, was Meredith. A banshee, who took the jumbled thoughts of a feral wolf, driven insane by the loss of his pack and the pain he was suffering from, and decided to turn them into a deadly plot. They didn’t even make sense. He’d been spiraling. From killing all Argents, to killing all involved in the fire, to just… killing all. Anger, rage, the need for revenge, not even eye for an eye anymore but just taking it all. There was no logic to it, no sense. But Meredith had decided to enact it. And Peter got the blame for it. She was treated like a victim, after directly orchestrating the deaths of countless supernaturals in Beacon County. But Peter was the bad guy for it, because of the thoughts in his head?

Of course had they not believed him when he told them that he hadn’t actually worked with Kate, that he had intended to use her. Why would the people who could blame him for Meredith’s deeds believe that Peter wasn’t a mustache twirling cartoon villain, willing to work with the woman who had taken everything from him? Malia looked at him so heartbroken, but she couldn’t go against her Alpha’s orders either. After all, she actually was a were.

“You should have told me,” Stiles whispered softly, not meeting Peter’s eyes as they transported Peter back to Beacon Hills. “You should have told me and we would have found a better solution together. Something that didn’t… You really were willing to rip the Alpha spark from Scott…”

And that was where he lost his boy’s support. Everything else, Peter knew, Stiles would have been able to justify. To defend. Not Scott. Just like the first time around. Hurting Scott and Lydia was where he had overstepped, what had earned him the Molotov cocktail from his boy. Peter stared down at his hands, unable to meet Stiles’ eyes either. How could he articulate to Stiles, of all people, just how much he resented Scott as Alpha? The way Scott was handling not just his own pack, but the territory? The assassins running wild? The wolves on it that weren’t part of his pack? The former Alpha twins that had trailed him like lost puppies without being made pack, until one of them died and the other left. And now Derek and Peter. Scott didn’t even care that there were wolves in his territory that didn’t belong to his pack. It went against every instinct in Peter.

“I can’t help you,” Stiles said bluntly and looked up. “I… I don’t know if I want to either. Scott’s not going to kill you. He’s probably going to send you away. Just… go. Please don’t fight him on this. Go to Cora, start a new life. Finally let go of the past.”

There was a plea in those honey-whiskey eyes and Peter found himself nodding without even thinking on it. Banishment seemed like Scott’s favorite punishment. Send the bad guys away with a stern talking to. Maybe Stiles was right, maybe starting over somewhere new – with Cora – was what Peter needed. Maybe it was time for the Hales to abandon these lands.

Only that, when they reached Beacon Hills, Scott didn’t banish him. No, the True Alpha’s Emissary gave him council, advised him on how to handle Peter. Whispering about what kind of threat Peter had always posed. That sending him away wasn’t going to work.

Death would be more merciful than locking Peter into Eichen House. If Peter had known that, he would have fought tooth and nail but by the time he realized that was going to happen with him, Deaton had already injected him with the wolfsbane that weakened his reactions.

He didn’t even get to see his daughter, his nephew, or his mate before they locked him away.

/break\

There was so much anger in Stiles. It kept building up. Festering. It had been building up for a long time too, Stiles had come to realize. At first, it felt like this was a new thing, but looking back, it had been coming for years, it was just the intensity that was new. With every ignored phone-call, every life or death situation that Stiles found himself alone in – or alone with Derek. With every threat that was just let go. With every warning that went unheard and ignored.

But it was getting worse now. So much worse. Because there was so much more to be angry about.

A part of him was still angry at Scott and Deaton for locking Peter into Eichen House without telling any of them. After what both Stiles and Malia had gone through in that place, it was something he wouldn’t even wish on his worst enemy. And Peter was far from their worst enemy.

Part of Stiles was also angry at Peter though, because the idiot should have trusted him, told him what was going on. Stiles could have helped him – well, helped him with the Kate problem. Stiles was also still angry at Peter for wanting to take Scott’s Alpha spark.

And Stiles was angry at himself for how he was slowly coming to agree with Peter on it. He shouldn’t. He’d always been Scott’s number one cheerleader, his best friend, his brother. He’s always stood at Scott’s side. But lately, it was feeling more like Stiles stood far behind him. Not listened to, dismissed. Unheard and unseen.

The way the decision about Peter had been made without Stiles’ input. How Theo was now forcing his way into the group and nobody was listening to Stiles’ concerns about him. Like it was all in his head, like he was being paranoid – the way he had been when the Nogitsune had still been in his mind, and it wasn’t helping, it just made him feel actually paranoid and also afraid, because what if they were right, what if this was in his head? Their doubt in him made him doubt himself.

Stiles sucked in a breath when the loft’s door slid open. Nobody should be here. Derek had left after Mexico, or stayed in Mexico, saying he was going to head to Cora and he pack, saying he had nothing left in Beacon Hills. That Scott didn’t need his guidance anymore. Well, fuck him. Stiles still needed Derek. The Sourwolf had become one of his best friends. And now he was gone too. Just like Erica, like Boyd, like Isaac, like Cora, like Jackson, like Allison .

No, not like Allison. Allison was dead and it was Stiles’ fault. He pressed his fingers together. Chris had left, again. He’d only come back to take care of Kate and now that she was in the wind, he’d gone to hunt her, together with Braeden as his backup.

Derek had left, to be with his sister, and Stiles couldn’t begrudge him that, especially now that Peter was gone. They kept in touch, Derek wasn’t the best at texting, but Erica and Boyd kept him updated on how things were in Mexico; after Stiles had first reached out to ask about Derek when he had been kidnapped by Kate, Stiles stayed in touch with Boyd and Erica and now texted near daily with them. It was nice, even though they had left, it felt a little less like they were gone. Cora and Isaac piped up occasionally too in the group chat. And Peter… Peter was in Eichen House.

Everybody kept leaving. There was a hole in his heart left behind by the people who were supposed to be his pack – and wasn’t pack supposed to be like a family, but then again, his mother had been the first to leave – but they all kept leaving. And he kept being left behind.

“Oh. Hey, Stiles. I… didn’t think someone would be here.”

Stiles blinked owlishly at the kitsune in the doorway. Kira stood unsure, her hand still on the sliding door, like she wanted to retreat and close it behind herself again. The two hadn’t really spoken a lot lately. Since Mexico. Mostly because she had been on vacation over the summer with her parents and ever since senior year started, Stiles had been preoccupied with Theo. Perhaps a little obsessive.

“I… Yeah. I guess I keep coming back here out of… habit?” Stiles shrugged and scooted over, making some room on the couch for Kira. “I spent a lot of time here over the summer.”

He quietly looked out of the large windows. He’d spent a lot of time here over the summer because Derek was gone and Peter was gone and Kira was on vacation and Scott and Lydia were now dating and wrapped up in each other and Malia had been busy with summer school so she would be able to graduate with them all. And Stiles had been… lonely.

“Yeah, same,” Kira laughed softly as she slotted into place next to him, their legs entangling on the couch as they faced each other. “We… We have been spending so much time here, you, me and Malia. It really did kind of become… the place to be when I’m not at school or home?”

She reached out and interlaced their fingers, frowning at how cold his hands were. He turned his head away, not wanting to talk about it. The wolves had helped, but now there were less wolves to ask for warmth. So he was just… lonely and cold now.

“Are you… Are you alright?” Kira asked in a soft voice. “You seem…”

“Angry?” Stiles suggested. “Yeah, I’m self-aware enough to notice that I’ve been doing a lot of yelling and had some violent outbursts toward objects and walls.”

“Why are you so angry?” Kira asked, her head tilted.

“Because everything is falling apart,” Stiles admitted after a long moment, looking at their linked hands. “Jackson, Boyd, Erica, Isaac, Cora, Allison, Chris, Derek, Peter. Everyone is… gone, keeps leaving, everything keeps changing. When all of this started out, with Scott, me, Allison, Lydia and Jackson, I thought that… that something was forming there. And then Derek formed his pack and for a very short time, when Scott and I were part of the Hale Pack, things seemed… I thought… But everything keeps changing and everyone keeps leaving and I’m just so… angry about it.”

He glared at his shaking hands. It was the truth. The Alpha Pack and the Darach had been the hardest phase because everything really was crumbling around them. Jackson left, Lydia kept rebounding with the Alpha twin, Boyd and Erica left, Cora was new and angry and things were awkward, suddenly Scott was an Alpha, Isaac joined his pack, but things were so… fragile, and not what Stiles had expected before the summer. And things just kept getting harder and worse over that school year, between the Nogitsune, the Benefactor, Kate…

“I’m tired,” Stiles whispered, voice barely a breath. “I think I’m angry because I’m tired. I’m tired of people leaving, I’m tired of being in pain, I’m tired of not being listened to.”

He knew he was right about Theo. He knew it deep in his gut, even when nobody else was listening to him. Kira’s brows furrowed and she leaned in some.

“Nobody’s listening to me,” Stiles looked at her with a frown. “I know Theo is a threat. I know it, but everyone just… just looks at me like I’m a spooked animal that you have to be careful about. The way everyone looked at me when I was possessed. You don’t believe me because you don’t trust me anymore. Because you can’t trust me anymore.”

“No, Stiles, that’s… I just… I remember what it’s like to be the new kid around and to try and gain the favor of you guys and try to become a part of the pack. So I guess I sympathize with Theo somewhat. And so far, he hasn’t done anything shady or suspicious at all. He was just being helpful and nice. I think… I think maybe you are just so wired for disaster right now – what do you call it? Hypervigilance? You expect a threat everywhere and it’s making you more suspicious.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Stiles conceded reluctantly. “I just wish…”

He wished Peter was still there, because Peter had always listened to him. Even when Stiles wasn’t even making sense to himself, Peter had always been good at filtering through the rambling and picking out the important information. Peter would be able to pinpoint where Stiles’ gut-reaction came from and they would be able to figure out how to prove it.

/break\

Things got worse. Things got so much worse that Stiles wasn’t sure how to breath and how to not punch something and how to not yell loudly at everyone. He was sitting in his car, shaking with anger, adrenaline and fear, his fingers curled tightly around the steering wheel.

Over the past twenty-four hours, everything had escalated in ways Stiles couldn’t fully grasp yet.

Yesterday, he had been at the library late with Malia, researching chimeras. Because Stiles’ usual research buddy was in Eichen House. Or had been in Eichen House, he supposed. Either way, Malia left, Stiles woke up alone and when he wanted to head home, Roscoe didn’t start. Donovan had attacked him at his car, bit him in the shoulder with his hand – which in itself was something Stiles still needed to digest. Stiles ran and Donovan chased him, threatened him and his dad, tried to kill Stiles. But Stiles killed him first.

Stiles lifted a shaky hand to rub his face as he remembered Donovan’s lifeless body, impaled on the metal pole, a puddle of blood steadily growing beneath him. He also remembered calling the cops and being declared a prank call because there was no body . He thought he lost it, wasn’t sure if this was like the Nogitsune all over again – tricks played on his mind.

And then Scott called and told him that Tracy’s body had disappeared. Been taken. Was that it? Was that what had happened with Donovan? But it hadn’t just been the body though. The blood, the majority of it anyway, had been gone too. Even if the Dread Doctors took back the bodies of their failed experiments, why would they clean up the crime scene too…? Or was this Theo’s doing? Make Stiles doubt himself even more than his friends’ disbelief already did?

“Darling, whatever kind of emotional crisis you are having, would you mind delaying it a bit? We should get out of here before your father and his deputies arrive.”

Stiles turned to shoot Peter a seething glare. But the sarcastic retort died on his tongue when he saw just how bad the wolf looked. This wasn’t impatience, it was survival instinct. Peter wanted to get as far away from Eichen House as possible. A sentiment Stiles shared.

“I’m not… I don’t…” Stiles looked at his shaking hands.

His shoulder throbbed where Donovan had bitten him yesterday. His neck burned where the Dread Doctors had injected him with something, and he could feel the burning sensation spread through his entire body, setting his nerves on fire.

Peter got out of the car. Right. The wolf would be better off alone on the run than with a messed up teenager who couldn’t seem to get the damn car started – and even if he did, he might just crash it. He wasn’t focused enough on the now to deal with it.

“C’mere, sweetheart,” Peter whispered softly as he opened the driver’s door.

Stiles made a small noise of protest when Peter just… picked him up, lifted him out of the driver’s seat and carried him to the backseat to sit him down. Stiles was too startled to react to any of that, because seriously what the hell.

“You’re in no condition to drive,” Peter brushed Stiles’ hair back and cupped his cheek, black veins snaking up his arm. “I don’t know what happened to you since I was put here, but I can smell the infection and blood on you and I can hear the rising panic in your heartbeat. I’ll drive.”

“You spent the past months pumped full of wolfsbane and going through whatever horrors Eichen House inflicted on you, how are you more qualified to drive right now?!” Stiles yelped.

“How about you both get in the back and I drive?”

Both Stiles and Peter startled and turned toward Malia, who just sat down in the driver’s seat like she owned the car. Frowning, Peter gently pushed Stiles through on the backseat to make room for himself, before fastening both their seat-belts.

“What are you doing here?” Stiles asked confused.

She hadn’t come to Eichen House with them. Because she was reasonable and had enough self-preservation to not go back to the torture asylum. When Scott had called him and told him that he would be going to Eichen House with Lydia, to talk to Valack, Stiles had forced his way into that too, because he knew the horrors of that place and he wasn’t going to let them walk in there alone.

“I had a – memory?” Malia frowned. “And I knew you all were here so I came here. I don’t know what’s going on here. Why is dad out. Why do you look like shit? Where are the others?”

“Drive, dear,” Peter requested with a growl. “Fast and far. We talk while we get away.”

“Where to?” Malia looked into the rearview mirror at Stiles.

Stiles reached a hand up to rub his aching neck and shoulder. “I don’t… No, I know where. Head for Main Street, at the corner of Roosevelt Street.”

A soft, large hand grasped his neck. It was warm and soothing and also drawing his pain. His eyelids fluttered shut as he relaxed into Peter’s hold while the wolf eased the pain of whatever was going on with Stiles right now.

“What happened?” Malia asked more insistently, looking at her father. “You should have told me that you’re breaking dad out. I would have come and helped you then.”

A look of surprise passed over Peter’s face before he smiled vaguely. “I don’t think breaking me out was the initial plan here, but to be honest, I don’t exactly know what’s going on either.”

Stiles grumbled softly and leaned more into Peter. “Scott and Lydia had this bullshit idea to go and talk to Dr. Valack about the Dread Doctors because… Theo… found a dedication to the good doctor in the stupid book. I told them this was a bad idea. And look who was, once again, right and to whom, once again, nobody listened.”

“I’ll need much more context for all of this later on, sweetheart,” Peter murmured softly.

Stiles waved a dismissive hand at that. “Yeah, yeah. Anyway, we went and, well, look who was assigned Dr. Valack’s roommate! Your father!”

Stiles bit his tongue and swallowed the bile and hateful words that wanted out next. Peter had been conked out on wolfsbane, just sitting there with a vacant expression on his face. Probably more than just the wolfsbane. Stiles remembered what Valack’s third eye had done to Deaton – it was why Stiles had insisted on going with Lydia, after all – but for Peter to be forced to share a cell with the man for months? Stiles couldn’t even begin to imagine the horrors of his stay in Eichen House.

“They kept him sedated with wolfsbane,” Stiles whispered in a far softer voice. “And I… got it out of his system. While Lydia talked to Valack.”

“How,” Peter furrowed his brows and tilted his head. “Yes, I feel clearer and stronger again than I have in months and I was… wondering about that… but how did you do that, sweet boy?”

Stiles pressed his lips together as he contemplated the answer for a moment. “I’m a Spark. I… haven’t really… used my magic since the Nogitsune. It fed on my magic and pretty much drained the well. But I’ve always had an affinity for mountain ash and I figured if I can control and manipulate that, maybe I can with wolfsbane too? Guess I was right.”

There was a look on Peter’s face that Stiles didn’t have the energy to decipher. His veins felt like they were filled with molten lava, despite Peter siphoning his pain. It wasn’t a pain, not exactly. It was… something. Stiles had a bad feeling about what it was exactly.

“The Dread Doctors attacked,” Stiles continued, squeezing his eyes shut as the heat in his veins suddenly seemed to turn to ice. “They… They tore out Valack’s eye and they… injected me with… something. I told Lydia to scream. It broke the glass, it let us escape. I got separated from Lydia and when I made it to my Jeep, this asshole was somehow already there.”

“Well, you didn’t expect me to idly sit in my cell until the orderlies came by with their tasers,” Peter raised both eyebrows. “You took the wolfsbane out of my system and you opened an escape route for me with that banshee scream, plus the commotion was a wonderful distraction to sneak out.”

“They injected you,” Malia fixated Stiles with a hard glare through the rear-view mirror. “Like… Like they did with Tracy? With the… Are you dying, Stiles?”

“No,” Stiles looked at his hands and feeling an itch under his fingernails. “What they did with Tracy was put down a failed experiment. I think… I think they… I think I’m turning into something.”

“What,” Peter’s voice was a barely contained growl. “Does that mean?”

Stiles looked out the window, watching the lights of the shops in the dark. “Here. Turn right. We can park in the shop’s parking lot behind the building, that way nobody will spot the Jeep.”

“Shop? Where are we going, Stiles?” Malia asked, even as she followed the instruction.

“This used to be my mom’s flower shop. After her death…” Stiles trailed off for a moment. “There were two other shops in the building since then but it’s been empty for months now. We can hide out here, regroup. I need… rest.”

“And to explain what you mean by turned,” Peter said with emphasis.

They got out of the car, but Stiles’ knees buckled. Peter was quickly at his side, holding him. When they reached the backdoor of the shop, Stiles got his key-ring out. He still had it, even after all these years. Mostly nostalgia. Now it came in handy. Everything inside was dusty and empty.

“Backroom,” Stiles pointed. “I need rest. Malia will explain everything that happened in the past months to you while I’ll just pass out, okay? Great.”

There was a corner couch in what used to be a break-room for the employees and as soon as Stiles was helped onto that, he passed out. The last thing he registered was the way Peter pulled his head into the wolf’s lap and started running his fingers through Stiles’ hair.

/break\

Stiles had a dream, something that had the same sense of danger as a nightmare yet a sense of comfort too. The Nemeton’s clearing was quiet and peaceful. The night was dark but illuminated by a full moon. There were no noises in the air, only the whistling of the wind. No birds or other critters. All prey was quiet in the presence of the two predators lounging on the Nemeton.

Compelled by their intense gaze did Stiles take a tentative step forward. On one side sat a wolf, with brown fur and a white belly. On the other side was a reddish-brown fox sprawled out, grinning at Stiles. For some reason, Stiles didn’t feel threatened by them. He felt called.

“You have a choice now, young Spark.”

The voice was soft and feminine, somehow familiar yet Stiles didn’t think he’d ever heard it before. When he looked around, he saw nobody else. He was alone with the fox and the wolf, who were both staring at him intensely. They had his eyes. Oh. The fox sat up and as it did, Stiles noticed that it wasn’t a normal fox. It had too many tails for that. The wolf flashed its eyes electric blue.

“What’s the choice?” Stiles asked. “Fox or wolf?”

“No. That choice has been made for you, I’m afraid. You have to choose if you want to fight them, or if you want to let them in.”

The other chimeras had tried to fight it, he supposed. A battle between the human and both creatures forced into them. But Stiles… wasn’t human. He had much more capacity inside of himself. He sat down on the Nemeton, feeling her magic pulsing against his palms.

He knew it would be a losing battle. He’d only barely discovered his Spark when the Nogitsune had attacked, he hadn’t really trained it and then the demon had leeched off of it, leaving Stiles with barely any magic. It had taken a toll on him to get the wolfsbane out of Peter earlier. If he tried to fight the fox and the wolf, he was likely not going to survive it.

Stiles turned to look at the fox. The kitsune. It had mischief in its eyes. Reaching out, he ran his fingers through the soft fur between the fox’s ears, one of its tails brushing against his thigh.

When Stiles turned toward the wolf, he frowned. Of course were its eyes blue. Stiles had killed Donovan. Stiles had taken a life, just yesterday. His hands were shaky as he reached for the wolf.

“No,” Stiles whispered. “I can’t be Scott’s Beta. Not… Not anymore.”

Not when Scott didn’t believe him, didn’t trust him. When Stiles had talked to Kira about it, he had seen her side of things. He understood why they didn’t immediately condemn Theo based on Stiles’ gut instinct. But caution. Stiles thought that the ten years of their friendship should have earned Stiles the benefit of the doubt enough that Scott would be cautious.

Instead, he’d told Theo about their lead, shared the book with him. Put him in the know, let him close to the pack. There was nuance to be had, between condemnation and blind trust and the fact that Scott, despite being an Alpha – a True Alpha, at that – didn’t understand that, didn’t see that, it made Stiles angry. The least Scott could do was not let Theo in on their investigations against their Big Bad, of whom Stiles was convinced Theo to be a part of.

But Stiles didn’t get that much trust. No, giving Theo, a total stranger, the benefit of the doubt outweighed giving Stiles the benefit of the doubt. There was a thrumming in Stiles’ chest and he knew it was his wolf. He couldn’t accept an Alpha who didn’t trust him, who only relied on him when he was convenient, who didn’t answer calls and ditched Stiles repeatedly in the past, who kept dismissing Stiles’ concerns. The wolf in him wanted to bare its fangs and snarl.

And even if Stiles’ wolf would settle for it… Would Scott even want him in his pack? Their conversation before entering Eichen House today had been like a bucket of ice-cold water being poured over Stiles. A naive and self-righteous world-view of black and white. Killing is bad, and therefore we don’t kill. Not even in self-defense, not even when there is no other option.

The way Scott had judged Kira for attacking that scorpion-guy at the club last night, for going for the kill when the opportunity arose – while this guy had been in the middle of actively trying to kill multiple pack-members of Scott’s. What kind of Alpha would let that kind of threat go and worse yet would condemn a loyal pack-member for doing everything in their power to protect the pack?

Stiles didn’t understand it. Kira, Malia, Stiles – they knew what needed to be done at times. Sometimes, there was no other option. Some threats were too dangerous to be let go. Yet over and over again, Scott left loose ends that could come back to bite them. Or worse.

A vicious part in Stiles’ mind – and he instinctively knew it was the fox – wanted more than just to tie up loose ends. Wanted well-deserved revenge. Gerard had kidnapped and tortured Stiles, Boyd and Erica. And he got to live comfortably in a retirement home now, dealing with the bite-rejection but living. Deucalion had terrorized them for months, had kept Boyd, Erica and Cora locked away and hurt them for months, tried to kill them all. But he got to live – and not just that, no, he got his sight restored too. Rewarded for his crimes. After the countless people he had killed before he ever even set foot in Beacon Hills, on top of all the horrible things he had done here, to them. Jennifer Blake, even after kidnapping Scott’s own mother and trying to kill her, after killing multiple innocent people in her selfish little revenge-spree, had gotten away.

Well. She hadn’t gotten far. Both his wolf and his fox gave pleased rumbling noises as they remembered watching Peter Hale spill her blood over the Nemeton, tearing out her throat. Protecting the territory, protecting the pack. Doing what needed to be done.

Scott would never do what needed to be done and deep down, that was something that had been bothering Stiles for months now. But he swallowed it, because Scott was his brother. Because Scott was his Alpha. Things changed, now. Stiles wasn’t human anymore and Scott wasn’t his Alpha. Stiles had killed when there was no choice and he knew he would be judged for it.

“We can’t be a Beta in his pack, but there are no other Alphas in Beacon Hills,” Stiles whispered darkly, fingers curling in the fur of his wolf’s face. “I think it’s time for a new Alpha.”

He focused all his energy on the bright burn of his Spark in his chest, feeling the fox press against his back, additional strength and support as Stiles poured every last ounce of his Spark into the wolf. The electric blue started flickering and red bled into it, until the wolf’s eyes were red. Alpha red. Blood red. Red in revenge, for everything him and his pack had lost and suffered.

/break\

Stiles near immediately passed out when Peter put him down on the couch. A first step had been to peel off the boy’s shirts and find the source of the infection – the stench was twisting Peter’s gut. Malia got the first aid kit out of Roscoe. While Peter took care of the injury, Malia left to get Kira, after the kitsune called her, frightened and confused because she had been used by the Dread Doctors to break into Eichen House.

Once Malia returned with her mate at her side, the two filled Peter in on what had happened during the time he’d been in Eichen House. The Dread Doctors, their experiments, the girl named Tracy and her chimera-traits of being wolf and kanima, how the Dread Doctors had killed her for being a failed experiment (and again did Peter’s gut twist, because Stiles had said these doctors had done the same to him. What if it would fail with Stiles too?).

An interesting topic that had Peter’s ears perk up was Theo Raeken. A wolf whom Stiles didn’t trust but who was gradually being let into the McCall Pack. If his clever, intuitive boy thought him a threat, then Peter was sure to investigate that further, once Stiles was taken care of.

For now, Stiles was asleep, with his head in Peter’s lap and his feet in Malia’s, both of them draining Stiles’ pain. Kira sat curled together on Malia’s other side, looking worse for wear too.

“Something’s wrong with me,” Kira whispered, not looking at them. “I don’t know what, but I can feel it. My powers are on the fizz. I… I asked Scott, to check my aura and he said everything is alright, but he was all… rushed and awkward, the way he is when he’s trying to lie. I just… I don’t know why he would hide it from me if something were wrong with me?”

Peter did have a weak spot for the young fox. And for someone young, vulnerable and being lied to by their Alpha. Peter’s eyes landed on Malia, the daughter his own Alpha had taken away from him.

“Because he’s not a good Alpha,” Peter said bluntly. “He deems his own judgment above reproach and thinks himself an authority, when he usually barely has half the information needed to make the call. Despite what some may say, I didn’t just attack Scott because I’m a cartoon villain who can’t let bygones be bygones. He is a threat, by continuously letting threats get away and by not properly managing his pack. I… I do hope the three of you will come to understand that.”

“I know why you did it,” Malia hummed softly. “I always understood that. There’s a foreign Alpha on your territory and he’s doing a poor job of keeping it safe. The territory would be safer without him. That’s normal. I would chase weaker predators out of my territory in the preserve too when I was a coyote.”

A faint, pleased smile spread over Peter’s lips as he nodded. “So you understand why I was trying to take his Alpha spark.”

“No,” Malia looked up at him with a deep frown. “That part was stupid and dumb of you.”

Peter blinked at that, a bit bewildered. “But you just understood why I went after Scott.”

“Yes,” Malia fixated him with an intense glare. “Because you are the Left Hand, it’s your job in the pack to take out threats. Like I said, he is a threat to the pack because he’s too lenient and weak. But you’re the Left Hand; you can’t be Alpha. And we already have an Alpha.”

Maybe there was still some wolfsbane in his system because he wasn’t entirely following this conversation. “Yes…? Scott. Removing the problem would leave a vacancy. We need an Alpha.”

“We,” Malia said with much emphasis. “Already have an Alpha.”

She pointed at Stiles. Kira and Peter both looked down at the boy and then up at Malia.

“Stiles is human,” Kira pointed out softly. “Humans can’t be Alphas…?”

Malia frowned confused. “Scott’s pack literally only has two wolves, himself and Liam. Humans are equal to wolves in in werewolf packs. If humans can be Betas, why shouldn’t they be Alphas? Stiles has been my Alpha since Eichen House. He was the first person I formed a pack-bond with. He is the one who helped teach me how to connect with my coyote, together with you, dad.”

“Stiles is the Alpha,” Peter whispered slowly, thoughtfully. “Of… Of whom?”

The look Malia gave him at that clearly asked if he was stupid and he tried not to feel too offended (mostly, he was charmed, because it was a very Stiles look and spoke to how much time his daughter and his chosen mate spent together).

“Stiles is the Alpha. You’re his Left Hand. Derek is his Right Hand, which is why I’m angry at him for leaving. So right now, our pack is just Stiles, you, me and Kira,” Malia replied.

“Oh. What?” Kira blinked doe-eyed and looked at Malia.

Malia just shrugged. “You were kind of between packs at first? But you bonded more with Stiles and then we got together and your allegiance shifted. I think maybe that’s why Scott lied to you? He’s not the most in tune with his wolf, but even he should be able to sense that you’re not pack.”

The three of them fell quiet at that. Peter needed a moment to digest that. Ever since his resurrection, he had been so single-mindedly obsessed with Stiles and the idea of proving himself to the boy… Had he really subconsciously acted as Stiles’ Left Hand? He’d killed the Darach, over the Nemeton. Stiles was, seemingly, the Spark of these lands, which made it his Nemeton. Maybe Peter’s wolf had instinctively reacted to the Spark, maybe they had formed a pack around that.

Peter huffed out a small laugh. When he had looked at that boy on the lacrosse field, and marveled at how beautiful he looked on his knees, defiance burning in his eyes and blood on his hands, Peter thought Stiles would make a magnificent wolf – and a perfect Alpha mate, for him. It seemed amusing to Peter that the roles had somehow reversed, that he was now trying to make himself the Alpha mate. He pursed his lips, somehow quite liking the sound of it.

Yes, he had wanted the power that went into being the Alpha – but the responsibility? Establishing a pack, wrangling Betas? No, he had failed quite spectacularly at that on his first try due to a lack of interest. Stiles, on the other hand, was a natural at it. He seemed to attract weres like a flame attracted moths. And finally, Peter knew why. Because Stiles was a Spark.

“What do we do if he…” Kira trailed off, unwilling to finish the sentence.

“Well,” Peter looked up at Kira with a smile with too many fangs. “I’ve successfully resurrected myself. Do you really think I’ll let Stiles get away this easily?”

“Creepy,” Malia muttered. “I get why he calls you Creeperwolf now.”

Peter barked out a laugh before turning more serious again. “I can’t lose him. I refuse to lose him. We will not lose him.”

Malia and Kira exchanged a look at that, before they both nodded, convinced by the determination in his voice. Peter settled back into the couch at that, his fingers playing with Stiles’ hair.

“For now, all we can do is wait and see,” Peter whispered gently, cupping Stiles’ cheek. “But I’d wager our Alpha is resilient and stubborn enough to make it on his own.”

/break\

When Stiles wakes, it is to a strange, conflicting sensation. There is immeasurable loss and a pit so deep and empty nothing could ever fill him – and then there is the feeling of being so full his soul should burst at the seams, buzzing with energy and warmth.

The loss of his Spark and the gain of an Alpha spark.

There were a fox and a wolf inside his mind now. No, that wasn’t right. They weren’t really separate things from him, it wasn’t like with the Nogitsune, with a foreign presence forced into his mind. It was more like… it unlocked aspects of Stiles that were wholly his but new.

He wasn’t entirely sure and he felt too fuzzy to think more on it. Also, his stomach was rumbling. Change burned energy. Groaning, he tried to sit up, just to find it impossible. When he blinked his eyes open, he realized why. There was a kitsune curled together on his chest and a coyote squished against them both, her arms around them both. When Stiles tilted his head back some, he looked up into Peter’s wide-awake face.

The sun shining in through the dusty, dirty windows told him that he must have been out for hours. Somehow he doubted that Peter had slept at all. Stiles tilted his head curiously as he regarded Peter, slowly inhaling and trying to make sense of all the scents. Lightning and tangerines were curled on his chest. Chili and moss were pressed against his side. Licorice and cherries sitting above him.

“I like your scents,” Stiles declared after a moment. “They are sharp and intense and nice.”

“Hello, sweetheart,” Peter huffed, eyes crinkling with his smile. “How do you feel?”

“Restless. Wired. Overwhelmed,” Stiles paused. “Strong. Powerful. Angry.”

His stomach growled and he blinked. “Also hungry. Really, really hungry, actually.”

“We can go to my place for breakfast. My parents should be at work,” Kira suggested with a yawn.

She sat up and stretched in a wide arch. Stiles’ eyes widened as he took in her aura. It was just… there. He turned to check with Malia and Peter, see if they were freaking out about it.

“Do you see it?” Stiles asked, motioning at Kira with wide eyes.

“…My girlfriend?” Malia asked confused.

“Her aura!” Stiles yelped and waved. “I’ve ever only seen it once before I think and it was when she was in the middle of a fight! And it’s weird, it looks like it… like it wants to go away.”

“Her aura isn’t showing, darling,” Peter said, then tilted his head thoughtfully. “Not for us, at least. Could this… be related to your… To what the Dread Doctors injected you with?”

Stiles frowned thoughtfully and sat up properly. It could be. They were kin now, after all.

“Maybe it’s the combination,” Stiles hummed softly. “Scott can see it too, after all.”

“…What combination?” Peter’s eyes were so intense and hungry as he looked at Stiles. “What, precisely, are you now, sweetheart?”

“Wolf,” Stiles paused for a moment and then amended. “And kitsune.”

He tried to focus on the beast sides of his, wondering if he could summon them. By the gasps his three pack-mates gave, he did. He wondered which part.

“Your aura is pitch-black,” Kira whispered. “I… I think you…”

“I’m a void kitsune,” Stiles hummed and nodded. “I think that’s why it’s… taking. Because the kitsune DNA latched onto the… memory, I guess… that my body has of being possessed by one.”

Stiles blinked curiously at Peter, sniffing the deliciously sweet and spicy scent rolling off the wolf in waves. His tongue darted out and he licked his lips in hunger. He wanted to devour that scent, sink his teeth in, claim it, keep it, roll around in it. Before he was even consciously aware of it, he was suddenly straddling Peter’s lap and nosing along the man’s neck, inhaling deeply. The most startling part was probably the way the werewolf was baring his throat and letting it happen.

“Why do you smell so good all of a sudden?” Stiles barely kept from nibbling at Peter’s neck.

“Well,” Peter cleared his throat seeming a bit flustered. “It seems that the red Alpha eyes and fangs… are a stunning look on you, darling. Especially combined with the kitsune aura.”

It took a moment for Stiles to register the words and put them into context, before he jerked back, wide-eyed in surprise. Arousal. That yummy scent was arousal . A blush lit up Stiles’ face. That was what that smelt like? Did it always smell so good, or was that just a Peter thing?

“You… uhm… Okay,” Stiles nodded and carefully climbed off Peter’s lap. “I don’t have the capacity to deal with that right now. Alpha eyes, huh? So… that worked.”

“What worked?” Kira asked, a little flustered and decidedly looking away from Peter and Stiles.

Stiles took a moment to figure out how to best put into words what he had done. “I’m a Spark. And I took my Spark and… concentrated it. It used to be my magic running through my veins, but now it’s kind of… manifested in an Alpha spark? I traded my magic for being an Alpha, basically.”

Peter sucked in a breath, his brows furrowed. Stiles offered him a small, sad smile. It was okay. It really was. His magic had been weakened already, and he had never really learned to use it. But this? Being an actual Alpha, so his little pack would be able to survive. He paused at that and looked up at Peter, Malia and Kira warily. Worried. Would they accept him as their Alpha…?

That Peter and Stiles were pack, and that Peter wanted Stiles in his pack, weren’t a secret. Stiles was the only thing keeping Peter from becoming a feral wolf, had been for… longer than Stiles was comfortable admitting. But then again, Peter had always wanted to be an Alpha – it was what had landed him in Eichen House too. What if that was the only way Peter wanted their dynamic? Him the Alpha, Stiles the Beta. The way Peter had wanted it from the beginning, with Stiles being the only one he actively sought out as a Beta.

Malia was uncomfortably much like her father. Stiles knew he’d been her only pack for a very long time. Even when they went to Mexico to find and free Derek, even when she had already been around Kira, Lydia and Scott for months, she hadn’t given a damn about them, had been ready to leave Lydia behind, because she hadn’t considered Lydia pack. She had only considered Stiles pack.

Kira was a wild card. She was a kitsune, she didn’t really need pack, and before Stiles, she had been close to Scott and Lydia first. Her loyalty may lay more with them than with him, even if that thought made his heart clench a little.

“What are you thinking about so hard, sweetheart?” Peter murmured, gently running his fingers through Stiles’ hair. “I can practically hear the cogs working in that clever mind of yours.”

“I’m an Alpha,” Stiles looked up at him. “I just… don’t know… if I have a pack.”

Peter reached for Stiles’ hand and interlaced their fingers. When Stiles looked up to meet the wolf’s eyes, he was taken aback by how… genuine the look on his face was. There was always some snark and sarcasm there with Peter, an exasperated eye-roll, a smarmy smirk. But this was the most open and vulnerable he had ever seen Peter, his eyes warm and soft. It took Stiles’ breath away.

“Alpha Mieczysław Stilinski, will you accept me in your pack as your Beta and your Left Hand?”

So much to unpack or maybe to just leave in the box there. Like the way Peter said his name – knew his name and knew how to pronounce his name – or the tingle that went through Stiles at being called Alpha like that, and also the way Peter offered himself not just as Stiles’ Beta but his Left Hand. It was more instinct than conscious decision when his body moved, he knew his eyes were glowing red when he sank blunt human teeth into Peter’s willingly offered neck.

Stiles had known there was a pack-bond between them, but to feel it properly snap into place and be cemented and strengthened by Stiles’ new status not just as an Alpha who claimed his Beta, but also generally by the fact that Stiles was now a wolf and could feel the pack-bond? That was different.

“Damn it,” Stiles huffed against Peter’s neck. “I should have dramatically taken your wrist and asked you ‘Do you want the Bite’?”

“Oh, please feel free to still do that, darling,” Peter’s voice was rough and dark and positively purring at that, his eyes flashing blue at Stiles.

For a long moment, Stiles got lost in Peter’s eyes, in the moment and in the warm, safe feeling of the pack-bond between them. Until Kira awkwardly cleared her throat and drew his attention to her and Malia. Malia flashed her eyes at Stiles and bared her throat at him.

“It feels unnecessary because you’ve always been my Alpha. But… Alpha Stilinski, do you accept me into your pack as your Beta?”

Grinning, Stiles bit the offered neck in a symbolic claim, feeling a rush as a second pack-bond snapped into place. Malia gasped softly. Even though she had seen him as her Alpha before, it was different to have an actual Alpha wolf claim her into his pack.

“It’s okay,” Stiles’ eyes were soft. “You don’t have to. I know you’re close with Scott and Lydia.”

“I want to be a part of your pack, Stiles,” Kira frowned. “Scott is… Scott is keeping things from me, keeping things about me from me. Even though he knows how much it messed with me that my mother kept my fox from me for so long. And I don’t… I may still be doubtful about your suspicion of Theo, but I still don’t agree with Scott letting him help and tag along. Did you know that while you, me, Lydia and Scott were in Eichen House, Theo was doing research with Malia? Because Scott invited him. I think… I may not be a wolf, but I think that in a pack, we have to trust each other and if someone doesn’t like an outsider, then that outsider shouldn’t be invited into the pack.”

A sad smile twisted Stiles’ lips and before he had a chance to reply, Kira bared her throat and continued. “Alpha Stilinski, do you accept me into your skulk as your Beta?”

Her eyes glowed orange and her aura flickered to life around her. Stiles could feel the change in himself as she called forth his own fox, and not his wolf. He bit her offered neck and he could see the black flicker of his tails at his side.

“We’re going with pack,” Malia decided with a frown. “Skulk is a weird word. And there are more wolves than foxes in this pack.”

“Really only by technicality,” Stiles snorted. “Two and a half wolves and one and a half foxes.”

“Five and a half wolves. Maybe six or seven,” Malia corrected. “It’s time you call Derek back home. And I know how close you still are to Boyd and Erica.”

Stiles tensed at that and tilted his head. His gaze landed on Peter doubtfully. Should he call them? Tell them that he was an Alpha now? Offer them a place in his pack? He knew Derek was only there because of Cora, he still hadn’t found true pack there. The same went for Boyd and Erica. Isaac was only there for Boyd, Erica, Cora and Derek. Stiles knew the former Hale Pack were essentially doing what Peter and Malia had done here in Beacon Hills, tethering themselves to other Betas and being in loose relations with the local Alpha, enough to not be packless and go feral. But would they want him as their Alpha…? He hadn’t seen them all in months.

“Don’t overthink it, darling,” Peter whispered gently, giving Stiles’ neck a squeeze as he drew him close. “You’ve had a very… eventful day. How about you rest some more, for now?”

Stiles gave a soft grunt and nuzzled against Peter’s chest once he collided with it. That sounded like a great plan, actually. Mh. Rich like cherries, dark and spicy like licorice, but with an undertone of the forest and there was also still that lingering sweet-spicy scent of arousal. Stiles really liked the way Peter smelled. Closing his eyes, he relaxed against Peter’s chest. His Beta. His Left Hand.

/break\

Peter couldn’t breath. He felt the cold, sluggish feeling of the wolfsbane slowing down his steps, his thoughts, tranquilizing his wolf. Peter was alone, isolated. No pack, nobody, not even his wolf. He was a born wolf, it was a part of who he was, and now it was muted. This was worse than the coma, because even in the coma he at least had had his wolf. He was all alone this time. And he wasn’t going to heal on his own, not like he had been able to after the fire, because the orderlies kept injecting him with more wolfsbane whenever he started feeling a little clearer. Nobody was going to come for him either. He’d alienated the few people he had and cared about. He was alone. He--

There was a roar, an Alpha’s roar. His Alpha’s roar. “Peter. Peter. Snap out of it.”

Peter jolted awake, gasping for breath. Cold sweat covered his skin, his eyes were wide and frantic as he looked around. Foreign room. No, room he had… seen. Yesterday. Memories were like molasses as they poured back in. Stiles. Eichen House. Escape. Malia. Little store. Kira. Alpha. Pack. Not alone. With pack. Peter took quick, hard breaths, trying to calm down.

“It’s okay. You’re okay,” Stiles voice was firm and his hands were soft as they cupped Peter’s face.

Peter looked at the boy, looked into blazing red Alpha eyes, and he felt himself relax. It was real. It had happened. Stiles had gotten him out, they had gotten away together. Peter was free. Peter had a pack again. He sagged forward against Stiles, with the Alpha wrapping his arms around him.

“You’re okay,” Stiles murmured softly. “You’re okay, Peter. You’re out. You’re safe.”

Peter took slow, shaky breaths as he came down from the panic of his nightmare. Memory. Fear. He turned his head so he could bury his nose in Stiles’ neck, inhaling the new wolf’s soothing scent. His Alpha. He had a pack again, a real, proper pack, with… with people who cared about him. His fingers clawed at Stiles’ shirt, holding the boy close with a near desperate need.

“Malia and Kira went home,” Stiles whispered softly. “Well… Malia went to my place, I guess. Since she’s been practically living at our house after Eichen. I told them to wash up, sleep, get… ready for school again. We need… things need to look… normal. For now, at least.”

“You’re not ready to let others know that you’re an Alpha now,” Peter whispered back.

Stiles’ fingers were curled loosely into Peter’s hair, caressing. Soothing. His other arm was near possessively wrapped around Peter’s shoulders, which only helped ease the wolf further. Peter had one arm around Stiles’ waist, only now really noticing that the boy was on his lap.

“I’m not ready for the outfall of all of this yet, Peter,” Stiles heaved a sigh, sounding exhausted. “I nearly died two days ago. I killed someone two days ago. And now I’m… something else. Something unnatural. No chimera we know of has survived so far. I’m… I’m afraid.”

The last word was whispered so low, if not for his werewolf hearing, Peter wouldn’t have caught it. He tightened his own grip on the boy, pulling Stiles even closer. Stiles allowed it, holding on just as tight. It nearly felt like Peter could no longer tell where one of them started and the other ended.

“You will be fine,” Peter whispered, with more certainty than he should have, considering he’d only learned about chimeras yesterday. “You gave your Spark to stabilize yourself, didn’t you?”

There was a pause and then Stiles hummed softly. “I… suppose so. I hope it worked.”

It had to work. Because Peter was done losing. He could not lose Stiles. Not Stiles.

“Hey. Easy there. May now be a werewolf but am still squishy,” Stiles pointed out. “It’ll be okay.”

He smoothed down Peter’s hair, trying to calm the wolf. Peter needed it to be okay. Slowly, the two of them laid back down onto the couch, with Stiles sprawled on top of Peter, both relaxing. There was a lot to consider. The suggestion that Derek and the former Hale Pack Betas could be a part of this pack too. Stiles’ change, in general. The implications of what it meant for Beacon Hills that Stiles and Scott were both Alphas now. Chimeras, Dread Doctors, Theo and Donovan. But for now, Peter just wanted to hold his boy, safe in the knowledge that right at this moment, they were safe, they were together, they were pack. All other things could follow later.

/break\

Stiles was the Alpha of his own pack. And he needed to hide that, at least for now. He wanted to give Scott the benefit of the doubt, even in his certainty that he was not a part of Scott’s pack. A part of him wanted to believe they could share territory, live together.

Stiles knew that wasn’t going to happen, deep down. As much as he hated it and wanted to ignore it, he knew that. Their world view was too different – had grown further and further apart over the past two years, like a cliff that Stiles could no longer bridge. Stiles watched, quietly, from the sidelines, how Scott kept letting Theo closer and closer, trusting him more. Ignoring Stiles’ warnings.

Stiles didn’t speak up about it anymore, swallowed his anger for now. Feeling safe in the knowledge that his own pack had his back. He sought out Kira and Malia more during school, touched them more too. Scent-marking, seeking comfort in hugs and casual touches with his Betas.

They started renovating the loft. Peter lived there now, still regaining his strength and also trying to settle with his experiences in Eichen House. They put some paint on the walls, cleaned up, added more furniture, more personal touches – things that had always been missing.

It took Stiles four days, after he was turned, when he felt more sure in what he was, before he called Derek. He held his breath after blurting out what had happened, or at least the short version of it. That he was an Alpha now. That he thought of Derek as pack. Of Boyd, Erica, Isaac and Cora. Because they had been. The first pack he’d ever joined had been the Hale Pack, with them. And then that had been ripped away from them. He wanted it back. Wanted them back.

But he was also afraid. So afraid of rejection. There was a reason they’d left, after all. And why would they trust the rambly, hyperactive teen to lead them as an Alpha? Boyd, Erica and Cora had been gone for so long now, so many months since Derek had lost his Alpha spark. And Stiles had only known Cora for such a short time. And Isaac? He’d shifted alliances from the Hale Pack to the McCall Pack, so if he came back, surely he would come back to rejoin the McCall Pack.

Three days after his phone call with them, he opened his door to the grinning, cheeky face of Erica, one arm slung around Boyd, a broody Derek next to them and behind them, Isaac and Cora.

“Hey, Batman. We’re home,” Erica declared.

Stiles had no chance to react before he was hugged. It turned into more of a hug-pile. Puppy-pile maybe? They ended up on the floor in a heap, Stiles laughing wetly as he was being scent-marked and as he scent-marked them back. The hole in his chest started to fill with warmth and hope.

“Are you sure about this?” Stiles asked worried.

“I mean, Boyd and I do have our families here too. They… weren’t exactly thrilled when we told them about the supernatural and about wanting to leave. I’m telling you my parents will probably try to adopt you when they learn that I’m back home because you’re offering us a better pack.”

“It was good, getting away for a while,” Boyd added, one arm around Erica’s waist and the blonde leaning comfortably against him. “It helped… get over the trauma, at least… some. And we were safe. But the pack… it didn’t feel right. We felt right, together and the pack was welcoming, but…”

“It wasn’t home,” Isaac added softly. “I… losing Allison was hard… and I felt like I kept… bouncing around, between Derek, the McCalls, the Argents, I didn’t really… have a place. I think that all of us living together, it had… helped me, feel more… like part of this.”

“But I mean are you guys sure with accepting me as your Alpha?” Stiles clarified.

“You can’t be worse at it than Peter and I were,” Derek offered dryly, but his eyes were soft. “You have the most important part an Alpha needs. You’ve always been loyal to those you care about. Being your Beta means having that loyalty. You’re… You’ll do fine, Stiles.”

“I’m only taking you on on a trial base because of them,” Cora grunted, motioning at the others. “My foster pack, they… Returning, after what had happened here, felt different. Felt wrong. And I know Derek only came because of me, he has deep ties to this place. After the time he spent in Mexico for me, I am back for him. And uncle Peter. And to meet my new cousin, I guess. And you… I like you, Stiles. You’re the only one in the McCall Pack who was trying to make me a part of things, you tried to make me get closer to Lydia, help with things. Scott never did. I never had anything to do with Allison either. But you did. You cared. So yeah, I’m much more willing to join your pack than Scott’s. I want a second chance, with my family, in our home.”

Stiles smiled, feeling an odd sense of pride in his chest at the trust. Second chance. He liked that.

/break\

Peter loathed how long it took him to feel more like himself again. It helped, when their pack got stronger. When Derek, Cora and the three other Betas joined them. Every pack-bond strengthened the pack as a whole and each wolf individually. The pack-bonds also served as a tether for Peter, to make him feel less unmoored, less like the feral lone wolf, or the abandoned wolf in Eichen House.

While resting and recovering, Peter did his research. On Donovan Donati and his father. On Theodore Raeken. On Dr. Valack and the Dread Doctors. Kira helped him, while Peter was on strict bed-rest – ordered by a fiercely glaring Alpha and enforced by his fussing daughter, niece and nephew (and Peter tried not to think about the warmth he had felt at being taken care of by pack) – Kira sneaked him books and records and whatever else he needed. The kitsune was a trickster at heart, as good at breaking and entering as their Alpha.

“Hello, Theodore. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”

Peter smiled when the boy turned on the lights and stood frozen in the doorway, staring at Peter.

“Who… are you? Why are you in my house?” Theo asked with a growl.

“You made a mistake,” Peter said simply, still idly sitting at the kitchen table. “You threatened and hurt someone I care about very dearly. Me? I’m his Left Hand.”

Slowly, he got up and flexed his claws. He let his eyes glow blue and they had the wanted effect. The boy tried to run. Foolish. Peter gladly chased after him. He could have done this differently, could have gone for a quick and silent kill. But after what this boy had done to Stiles? Making him doubt himself, feel abandoned by his pack, having him threatened and nearly killed? And oh yes, Peter’s research had been thorough and he had found all the proof he needed. No, Theo Raeken was going to take his last breath today and it was not going to be quick.

As they ran through the preserve, Peter felt himself shift, slipping from his human skin into that of a predator. This was… new. He had never achieved a full-shift before. Yet motivated by protecting his Alpha and chosen mate, his wolf fully took over. He chased Theo deep into the preserve, until they reached the Nemeton. Tackling Theo onto the tree, Peter did quick work by tearing out his throat and spilling Theo’s blood over the Nemeton, a sacrifice to strengthen her.

For a moment, Peter tilted his head. Considering what to do with the body, before he decided to leave it where it was for now. Excitement thrummed through the wolf as quick paws carried him toward the sheriff’s house. By the time he reached the back-porch, Stiles already stood there. His worried frown melted into a look of surprise.

“You… holy shit,” Stiles whispered as he knelt down. “I could feel something off about you through the bond. I was about to track you down, but… Wow. You… Wow.”

“Stiles. Why is there a wolf on our porch. And why is it covered in blood.”

Peter, busy nuzzling into Stiles’ belly, growled lowly, just to have Stiles growl back at him in warning. Right. Stiles’ father. Still, someone was imposing on his Stiles-time. Stiles huffed and started scratching Peter behind the ear, causing Peter to whine and flop over.

“It’s Peter. And, um, yeah, the blood is…” Stiles trailed off and looked at his father. “I’m just gonna hope he caught deer for himself and Malia for dinner, dad.”

“Let’s go with that,” Noah heaved a sigh. “You’re gonna clean up this mess though, Stiles. Your wolves, your responsibility, you hear me, son?”

He rested a hand on Stiles’ head, patting it gently to ease the edge off his words. The man had taken it much, much better than anticipated. That Stiles was a chimera now, that he was an Alpha. Quite frankly, the thing that got to the sheriff the most had been the truth about Donovan – the fact that his son had nearly died. Noah Stilinski was ready to tear down the world for his son and that was a trait Peter respected and valued. Stiles grinned up at Noah before he curled up to Peter, burying himself in the wolf’s fur and ruffling him, giving him belly-rubs.

/break\

While Peter had gone to Theo alone, because that had been his business as Stiles’ Left Hand, he did take some backup for the second visit on his agenda. When Scott got home, while Melissa was still out on shift, Peter was already waiting on the couch in the living room, a box in front of him.

“Peter,” Scott growled, eyes flashing red. “You should have left town.”

“Mh,” Peter smiled lazily. “I know that’s how you prefer to handle your threats. Have them leave. But you see, I don’t plan on leaving. And I’m done dealing with you.”

“You stood no chance against me last time. What do you think will be different now?”

“Well,” Erica drawled as she entered the room, leaning against the doorway. “He’s not alone.”

Erica wickedly and twirling her hair. Oh, that pup was fierce and wicked and Peter would love to take her on as his apprentice. Her mate stepped up next to her, a large, solid wall of defense. Boyd was more quiet, less violent than his mate, but he was smart and his calm would make him an excellent Right Hand one day. Peter made a note to discuss this with Stiles later on, that Peter and Derek should take the mated pair on as their apprentices for the position.

Isaac stood behind the mated pair, a bit subdued. Kira stood by his side, seeming mostly sad.

Malia, Cora and Derek joined them from the other room and came to stand on Peter’s other side, though Derek kept his arms crossed, not looking at Scott. He’d come back to Beacon Hills the second time around to mentor the boy, after all. The feeling of failure must leave a lingering taste behind. Malia’s eyes however were hard and she stood firmly behind her father.

“W… What is this?” Scott looked startled and, when looking at Derek, Isaac, Kira and Malia, with a note of betrayal and anger. “Why would you side with him? After what he’s done-”

“You’ve been lying to me! About me!” Kira blurted out angrily. “After how my mother had lied to me, kept my nature from me! You were supposed to be my Alpha and I should have been able to trust you. Peter may not be your definition of a good person, but he has never, not once, lied to me.”

Peter’s heart warmed at the vote of confidence from the young kitsune, their pack-bond thrumming strong in his chest. He aimed a smile at her before turning toward Scott. He pushed the box closer. Scott was wary, but by now he was surrounded by the Stilinski Pack. No way out. He may be a True Alpha, but what chance would he stand against seven weres and a kitsune? Scott made an outraged sound and slipped into Beta-shift when he opened the box and saw the torn-out heart.

“What have you done,” Scott spat, claws out and ready to attack.

“He’s done what you refused to do. What you would have never done.”

Everything got very quiet as the gathered group turned toward the door in surprise. Stiles looked subdued as he entered the house. He closed the door behind himself, not seeming the least bit surprised to find his pack gathered in the McCall residence. Peter wondered if they were in trouble.

“Stiles! You knew he was out? You know what’s… What’s going on here?” Scott asked. “He killed someone! We need to send him back to Ei-”

Stiles growled, the deep, dark warning growl of a challenged Alpha wolf and the sound abruptly cut Scott off. The sound also sent a thrill of arousal through Peter. The others had by now left the kitchen and come to join them properly in the living room.

“You have no authority over Peter. And I will not let you do anything to him,” Stiles warned. “He’s my Left Hand, he acted to protect me, my pack and my territory.”

He approached and put himself between his pack and Scott. Peter stood and found his place to Stiles’ left, a few steps behind his Alpha. Derek approached them to take his rightful place as Stiles’ Right Hand, mirroring Peter. The rest of the Betas fell in line behind the three of them. Scott sucked in a sharp breath when Stiles let his own Beta-shift take over, eyes a blazing red.

“W… What have you done?” Scott asked, sounding terrified and judgmental.

Peter sneered and flexed his claws. Stiles gave him a low warning growl and Peter took a deep breath. Right. His Alpha didn’t need him to fight his battles for him. Not this one, at least.

“Doesn’t matter. You wouldn’t believe me anyway,” Stiles sighed and shook his head before he straightened to his full height and glared Scott down. “I’m an Alpha now. This is my pack. And this territory? It’s been Hale land for centuries. Seeing as all four living Hales are part of my pack, I claim this territory on their behalf, Scott.”

“So what? Are you…” Scott frowned and took a step back. “Do you want to fight over this? Stiles. Don’t… We’re brothers. I’m not fighting you. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but-”

“I’m not going to fight you either. Unless you make me,” Stiles interrupted him with a shake of his head. “Here’s what’s going to happen: You can stay in Beacon Hills until graduation and then you’re going to leave. Because you were always going to leave anyway. All year, I’ve been worrying about college, wanting to keep our pack together and you kept dismissing my concerns, you never… You never understood that it’s important for pack to be together. You never cared about keeping the pack together. So you’ll do what you were going to do anyway. You leave and me, Kira, Malia and Peter are going to stay behind and protect the territory. Only that now, we have backup.”

Stiles turned to look at his Betas briefly before returning his attention to Scott. “You can come back to visit, I’m not banishing you from the territory. But you are conceding this territory. News of your True Alpha status spread so startlingly fast – I mean, truly, even faster than you even became an Alpha – so have your Druid spread the news that Beacon Hills is no longer your territory. That it’s the territory of the Stilinski Hale Pack.”

Scott growled, the Alpha in him not liking that he was being told what would happen. Stiles didn’t flinch, he stood tall and proud as he stepped up to Scott, all red eyes and Beta-shift. He was stunning. Peter so loved to be right. Stiles was a magnificent wolf.

“You’re getting what you wanted, Scott,” Stiles declared with a low growl to his voice. “You wanted to leave, you want to become a vet. You’ll be gone for at least eight years, probably more like a decade. How did you imagine this to go? Beacon Hills will keep attracting dangerous creatures and it would have been unprotected without an Alpha, without a pack.”

Scott averted his eyes at that, something akin to guilt passing over his face. “I’m not putting my life plans on hold for… for this. Of course I’m leaving. Lydia is going too, to MIT.”

“Yes. I know,” Stiles looked away into the other direction, sadness on his face, before he sighed and looked up again. “Liam can stay, he can either join my pack or stay on the fringes under my protection to keep him from turning feral as a packless wolf. He’ll have two more years of school after you graduate and leave, Scott. I’ll take care of him. And of the territory.”

At that, Scott looked surprised in a way that indicated he hadn’t really considered how him abandoning the territory for years would affect the only Beta wolf he had. Peter breathed slow and deep to keep calm as his own inner wolf raged at the carelessness and thoughtlessness.

“You expect me to just… look away and ignore this?” Scott asked, pointing at the box.

Stiles heaved a very exasperated sigh as he picked up the box. “Yeah, actually. I am. You… You have become too damn self-righteous lately, you know? When we first faced Peter, you wanted to kill him, because you thought if you killed him, it would cure you of being a werewolf. You are the one who poisoned Gerard, left him to rot, slow and painful as that death is. Stop being a hypocrite, Scotty, it’s not a good look on you. Sometimes, we kill.”

Stiles let the Beta-shift slip, only the human boy remaining as he looked at Scott one last time before turning around to head out, though he paused in the doorway. “We will take care of the Dread Doctors. Don’t worry about it. Focus on AP Biology and graduation. My pack got this covered.”

When he left, Peter and the others followed him as one united front, leaving Scott behind.

/break\

With an actually willing and competent pack at his side, willing to do whatever it took, they found the Dread Doctors faster than Stiles had anticipated and though it was messy, they took care of the threat quite successfully. Scott won’t meet his eyes in the hallway anymore, but Stiles had made his peace with it. Especially now that he would sit with Erica, Boyd, Isaac, Cora, Malia and Kira during lunch and in class. The ache that loss usually caused in him was lessened by the warmth of his pack-bonds, by the support of his pack. He knew he would be alright, because he had them.

Graduation came and went and, as promised, Scott and Lydia left for college. There was something mournful in Lydia’s gaze when she hugged him goodbye. But it was alright. They had grown apart, they had different things they wanted out of life. And Stiles? He finally had it all.

Him, Cora, Isaac and Kira signed up for Silver Lake University, just two hours from Beacon Hills, so they would be able to come by every weekend and make a spontaneous trip when needed. Erica and Malia decided to stay in Beacon Hills, Erica started working at her family’s diner while Malia started working at a local mechanic’s shop, having picked up an interest for it with how often she had helped Stiles with his Jeep. Boyd decided to go to culinary school in Fox Creek, about an hour away from Beacon Hills into the other direction than Silver Lake. Stiles could go to class without having to worry, because he knew that Peter, Derek, Malia, Erica, Liam and Hayden – who had turned out to also be a chimera experiment from the Dread Doctors and, after accepting the Bite from Stiles, survived the transformation into a full werewolf – would protect the territory. He also knew that his dad and Parrish would help them, if they needed the backup. And Stiles and the others were one phone-call and a drive away too. They would manage. Together.

“You seem much more at ease than I expected, sweetheart,” Peter teased as he carried the last box into the dorm-room Stiles was sharing with Isaac. “I thought you’d fret more, with the four of you at college, Hayden and Liam still in high school, Vernon in Fox Creek…”

Stiles shook his head minutely. “We’re close enough. I never… I never meant to stop anyone from achieving what they want in life, Peter. Myself included. But Beacon Hills… it needs protection. I trust you, Derek, and the others to have things covered enough so we can focus on our studies. If there’s a real emergency, we’re still close enough to come help.”

Peter stepped up to him, crowding into his space. Ever since Stiles had become a wolf months ago, Peter had gotten much more affectionate with him. In fact, his Left Hand barely managed to keep his hands to himself whenever Stiles was close-by. Stiles didn’t mind. The contrary, really. His inner wolf rumbled pleased at it. Stiles flashed his eyes red at Peter before taking the man’s right hand. He slowly lifted it up toward his face, a teasing grin curling his lips.

“What do you say, Peter?” Stiles asked softly. “Do you want the bite? Yes or no?”

Peter stared at him with wide, surprised eyes, his pulse picking up and his eyes flashing blue. Arousal and want rolled off of him in waves and Stiles was really glad that Isaac was currently helping the girls get set up in their own dorm-room. It was just Peter and him, right now.

“You shouldn’t tease like that, darling,” Peter cleared his throat and twisted his hand out of Stiles’ hold. “You don’t know what you’re offering there.”

“Peter, I’m the clever one, remember? You really think I don’t know what a bite on the wrist means?” Stiles cocked one eyebrow, mildly amused. “And you really think I didn’t notice that, over the past months since I became Alpha, you’ve been courting me?”

After Stiles’ awkward excuse for the bloody wolf, Peter had actually taken to hunting deer. Not even alone though, he took Derek and Malia with him, all three Hales hunting in full-shift. It filled his heart with eagerness to see his pack like that, together. And they were damn beautiful. Cora was currently trying to master full-shift too, feeling left behind by her family. Stiles was fairly sure that if she didn’t try so hard, she would be more successful.

The Hales hunted deer, for the whole pack. But Peter always saved the best cuts for Stiles, and only for Stiles. Not even in the ‘Alpha eats first’ sense – that they actually did do, which still flustered Stiles – but he gave those to Stiles separately. Theo’s torn-out heart in the box had been the first though. Yes, Peter had brought it to Scott to provoke the Alpha, but in the end, he had given it to Stiles. A sign not just that Peter was his Left Hand and willing to do what it took, but also very specifically a declaration that Peter would kill anyone who’d threaten Stiles.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’ve been courting you for months longer than that,” Peter huffed amused.

“Oh,” Stiles blinked surprised up at Peter. “Okay. So… do you want the bite, then?”

Peter’s breath hitched and his pupils were wide. “Are you asking me to become the Alpha mate?”

Stiles grinned amused and wrapped one arm around Peter’s neck. “Well, it’s the Stilinski Hale Pack, feels only appropriate, doesn’t it, Pretty Wolf?”

Peter laid his own arm around Stiles’ waist and drew him into a kiss. “Yes.”

The kiss started soft and gentle, with a note of disbelief, before it turned hot and heated, filled with all the desire that had been building up between them for – for years, if Stiles was being honest. He had wanted Peter for longer than he should have. But then, depending on who one asked, Stiles shouldn’t want Peter at all. Ruthless killer with hands covered in blood. Stiles took Peter’s free hand and interlaced their fingers. He didn’t mind the blood. His own hands weren’t clean, and they had only become bloodier as they took the Dread Doctors down together. Killing Valack had been a personal highlight for Stiles, because he knew that bastard and his damn third eye had tormented Stiles’ mate for months. And yes, Stiles’ inner wolf was quite possessive of Peter. And protective, but Stiles supposed those were also his instincts as the Alpha.

“Why offer it now?” Peter asked when their kiss broke, both pressed against each other.

“I wanted things to be… sorted out first,” Stiles admitted. “The Dread Doctors. Things in Beacon Hills. Graduation too. Now… I… It feels like we finally got the hang of things. We got a plan. The pack is more stable and settled, I’m glad we had that time before graduation, to let everyone really bond with each other, since Cora never even met Kira or Malia before, and Liam and Hayden basically didn’t know any of the others. Things feel…”

Stiles paused for a moment and tilted his head to rest his cheek against Peter’s shoulder. “Settled? It feels… I feel settled. In my role as Alpha, as a wolf, with my pack, with the… idea of a future ahead of me. When the Alpha Pack and Darach attacked, I kind of… stopped fully believing in that. It felt like one threat was just chasing the next. Kate, the kanima, Gerard, now that. It felt like it’d never stop. And I kept… losing people. Everyone kept leaving and I felt like each one took a part of me with them and I was… cracking and coming apart at the seams.”

Taking a shaky breath, Stiles buried deeper into the safe embrace. “Now… Now they’re back and I can feel them in my soul. We’re stronger than we ever were and we’re together. We feel stable.”

They were a proper pack now. A big and strong pack. A pack Stiles was proud of. And yes, he had needed all of that, needed for them to establish their pack, their territory. Take care of the Dread Doctors, graduate, get college sorted out. All of those were things with a higher priority than romance, even as the need to just kiss Peter grew stronger with every passing day.

It was more than that though. What Peter had been through in Eichen House – hell, even the things before that, the coma, the loss, death, all of those were things Peter had never really dealt with – what Peter had needed was a stable pack, proper pack-bonds to anchor him. And Stiles just the same. He’d never had the time to actually deal with the trauma of the possession, he’d just been pushed into the deep end with assassins and Dread Doctors, it was always one thing after the next. They both needed to heal at least some first before they could attempt this. Because this? Stiles knew it was going to be big and good, he knew this thing between them was more than just a maybe, it was going to be a definite. So it deserved for them to be in the right space of mind.

“I’ll be in Beacon Hills every weekend,” Stiles promised, voice muffled because he was kind of nibbling on Peter’s neck. “We’ll see each other all the time and text and call and-”

“Yes, we will,” Peter cut in, with unwavering certainty, pressing a kiss to Stiles’ temple.

Stiles, who had mostly tried to reassure himself and his own nerves with that ramble, took a slow breath and nodded. They were going to be fine. More than fine. They were going to be magnificent.

~*~ The End ~*~