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All Is Fair In Love & War

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Today was the day. Today was the day―the day he's been waiting for since he learned how to tell between they're, their, and there. He'd be anticipating this day for years, training for this day both mentally and physically, getting on everyone's good side so that the promise of The Day would be smooth sailing. And it has. His good behavior, excellent grades, remarkable show in combat had earned him The Day. So when he had gotten the confirmation the day before, he was beyond excited―to excited to sleep apparently as he laid in bed and stared up at the ceiling with a big, stupid grin on his face.

He was ready.

He was so, so ready.

"Happy Birthday, Stiles!" Melissa cheered as she walked into his room, chocolate cake lit up with several candles in her hands. Several other hunters were in tow behind her; including his two friends Scott and Allison. With a smile, Stiles climbed off of his bed and allowed the group to approach them as they bursted into song, clapping along the way. A little flustered―he didn't expect for his birthday to be a some what big deal―Stiles smiled more and leaned forward to blow out his candles.

"Okay, what did you wish for?" Allison pestered as she hopped to his side. She was smiling so wide that her cute dimples were showing.

Stiles tutted a little and wagged his finger. "Now now, Ali. If I say my wish, it won't come true."

The huntress pouted a little. "Oh, don't be so tacky, Stiles. You don't honestly believe in that crap, do you?" She grumbled. Scott laughed a little as he joined her side, sliding his arm around her waist.

"You don't need to tell us if you don't want to, Stiles. It's not that big of a deal. It's your wish and you're entitled to it." He assured. Allison squinted her eyes at him in return. "Besides, I'm pretty sure we all know what his wish was anyways. Is it about tonight?"

"Hell yeah." Stiles boasted with a wide grin. "I just have to wait for further instructions."

"And you will get your further instructions, my child." A voice joined in. Stiles looked up and immediately straightened at the sight of Gerard walking in, the aura of authority and order following him as he did so. Gerard is the leader of the Argents, the biggest and most influential hunting group known. Stiles' hunting group (the Sealgairs; which is Scottish Gaelic for hunter) is basically the biggest brotherhood to the Argents, hence why both hunting families are joined together in one big institute.

"I see you've grown eager for this day." Gerard observed, crinkly skin lifting a little as he smirked a bit. "I like your enthusiasm. We could use your energy out on the field."

"So I will be able to do on my first hunt today?" Stiles asked eagerly.

Gerard hummed a little before he lifted his hand, a woman with long blonde hair approaching him with a long, narrow gift box; Kate Argent. "I have given you a gift, Stiles. I hope you like it." With a small bow of his head, Stiles tore open the wrap and lifted the lid. Even his friends gasped at the sight of a high-tech looking bow, complete with an entire set of other equipment with it.

"Whoa.. what―what is it?" Stiles gaped as he set the box down to carefully pull the bow out of it.

"Well, I had asked around to find out your preference in combat. Everyone said you've been very mighty with the bow and arrow, much like Allison." Gerard began as he stepped closer. Stiles and Allison shared small smiles. "This bow is the highest level of bow you could ever be rewarded in the Argent family. We call it the Predator. It has an auto-loading and detachable box magazine and can easily equip a variety of compound arrows. It can be folded so you can easily hide it in your back-pack and be discreet with it. Now, the arrows--some of them have been custom-made. You have the basic steel arrows, an electro-arrow which will electrocute your enemy upon hitting them, the famous flash bomb arrow that Allison specializes in, and then there's these ones." Gerard stepped forward and held up a single black arrow with a silver arrowhead. "This one is obvious; it's silver. While your ordinary arrow is just plain metal, this silver one had a jaw-like webs along the blades of it; making it harder to pull out but when they do, it makes the wound bigger. The second one is also a silver arrow but it is attached with an infusion of wolfsbane. With either arrows, you could also cover it with mountain ash or mistletoe, whichever fits your choosing. They're pretty much endless designing traits you could equip with your arrows. Also, you have a variety of attachments for the bow as well. Laser sight, sniper scope, tech scope which is a heat-seaking scope, and the suppressor to help muffle the sound of your arrows. I trust that the bow will be in good hands?"

"Y-Yes, of course!" Stiles looked up, eyes huge and smile big. "This is so awesome! Thank you so much, sir!"

"He's really good with the bow and arrow." Allison complimented. "With my advice and special training, he's pretty much on the same level as me - if not, better."

Gerard seemed pleased. "That is good to hear. Stiles, your instructions are to travel with Allison and Scott later tonight. The time of gathering will be at dusk, so get ready at least 30 minutes before and go with them to the preserve." He instructed. Stiles nodded eagerly and watched him leave before he spun around to show off his new weapon to his friends with his mouth agape.

"You're going to rock tonight." Scott avowed. "You are so ready for this."

"Not to be cliche, my friend, but," Stiles looked up and smirked. "I was born ready for this."

However, he was not ready for this.

The feral alpha and its pack were a lot faster, a lot stronger than any of them had anticipated―so much so that they were even ordered to only have Allison, Scott, and Stiles go by themselves. Originally, the feral alpha only had 2 other pack members. The amount of pack members had doubled over the hours. While Stiles liked to believe that he was ready for this, ready to kill an alpha that had killed many other innocent people―he wasn't ready at the same time.

"Scott, we need a new plan." Stiles muttered into his earpiece. "This one's not gonna work. The alpha got more pack members and it's made him stronger and faster. I'm almost out of arrows. I managed to take down one."

There was a pained howl the next second before Allison chirped into the intercom. "I took down another one." She breathed. "But Stiles is right, Scott. I've only got a few arrows left. Should we call for back-up?"

"No!" Stiles barked. "No―we can't call for backup. It'll make us look weak, like we can't handle a feral alpha and it's remaining pack members!"

"But we honestly can't, Stiles. We underestimated the circumstances today." Scott sighed.

"Don't ruin this for me, Scott, please." Stiles begged softly. "This is my one chance, okay? If I do well today then it's 100% guaranteed that I'll be put on other hunts! If we fail, I won't be able to join another hunt until the year is over! That's months away!"

Allison sighed quietly. "Alright... Alright, we got this, okay? We can figure this out. We can figure out - we always figure it out." She encouraged. "First... Stiles, do you spot the feral alpha?"

Stiles pushed a button so that his attachment switched to the tech scope and he looked around the area. "No, I don't. I do see one of his pack members. Hang on." Stiles reached and grabbed a silver arrow and aimed it at the feral wolf charged angrily at him. Stiles took a second to steady his aim before he shot the arrow. The wolf staggered, eyes wide as the arrow lodged itself in the middle of its forehead, before it grudgingly collapsed to the ground. "Down and out."

"Okay, so that makes 3 of its pack members down." Scott hummed softly. "Which leaves the feral alpha and one more pack member, correct?"

There was a second of silence before Allison spoke. "Make that just the alpha." She grunted, the sound of something slicing cutting (pun intended) into the background as she spoke. "I ran out of arrows but I had my silver dagger with me."

"Stiles, what's your location?" Scott asked.

"I've climbed a tree." Stiles shifted on the branch and grabbed something in his pocket; a small, beacon-like device with two different buttons on it. He pressed one button and Stiles could hear the beeping through their intercoms; it was a location device, where if he pressed one of the buttons, it would give the other hunters around him within a 100 mile radius his exact location.

"You're just five clicks north of me." Scott panted. "I'll be there in a few moments."

With a soft sigh, Stiles leaned back in the tree with his back against the trunk; he could feel the roughness of the bark scuffling against the soft fabric of his shirt. He observed his surroundings for a couple of seconds, listening to the nature that was around him before he decided to cautiously climb down from the tree; he needed to make sure he was still alone until Scott and Allison joined him. He pressed his back against the tree once he was down on the ground, bow gripped tight in his hands.

He didn't trust having his back to the wide open.

There was rustling noise that caught his attention and Stiles had the mere opportunity to raise his head in the direction of the sound before he was hurtled to the ground by a solid force. He exclaimed in surprise as he crumbled easily to the weight and the sheer force, bow slipping out of his grasp and knocking a ways away. He grunted as he hit the ground and gasped quietly as the feral alpha snarled at him, long white canines dripping slightly with drool as its blood red eyes pierced down angrily at him. As Stiles' heart pounded in his chest, he reached into his pocket and grabbed his hand-knife―a hand-crafted silver blade with the motto of the Argents carved into it―and made a quick jab to the alpha's ribs. The wolf howled in pain and Stiles took the moment to kick the beast off of him as he yanked the knife out. Stiles got up to his feet and twirled the knife around his fingers as he stared the feral alpha down. The beast growled a little, blood seeping through its teeth as it stared back at him. Stiles could hear footsteps as his friends closed in, hearing Scott yelling his name and he could see Allison aim an arrow in the corner of his eye. The alpha barked loudly at him before it made a beeline to Stiles, who immediately prepared for the impact as he gripped his blade tighter. The wolf collided with him and Stiles sunk the blade deep into its chest, making the beast let out whimper as its body jerked. Stiles pulled the blade out and was able to scoot back a little just in time for Allison to lodge an arrow through the beast's head. The wolf jerked, its body going rigid before it slowly crumbled to the ground. Stiles was panting heavily as he slowly made his way up to his feet.

"Well... that's taken care of." He muttered and made his way over to where his bow lay. As he reached down to grab it, he hissed as paid shot through his shoulder.

"Uh, Stiles?" Scott called out in an uneasy manner. Stiles raised his head to look up at his friends, frowning at their horrified expressions.

"What? What's wrong? Is the feral alpha still alive?" He asked.

Scott slowly shook his hand and raised his hand to point at Stiles' shoulder. "Worse." He choked out. With a confused expression, he looked down at his shoulder and felt the blood leave his face and the air leave his lungs. "It bit you."

Stiles was mortified to say the least. A hunter being bitten? That's more than just taboo, that goes against all of their code―even if it was a forced or accidental bite. Either you were a hunter or you were a werewolf, there was no in between and there certainly weren't no ifs, ands, or buts about it. If you were bitten, you only had one outcome; you have no choice in the matter, no opinion, not even a minute to actually speak for yourself.

Execution.

Maybe it was cruel punishment; you had to pay with your life if you ever got bitten? It was ridiculous―the life of a hunter, and the consequences of it all, was ludicrous. Especially the part where you had no say and no choice.

You got bit? Well, congrats! Now die.

Scott and Allison were distraught. When they had gotten back to the institute, the huntress couldn't stop sobbing and Scott was barely holding it together. Stiles was told to stay in the car for now as they went inside and he assumed his friends would try to convince their leaders to spare him, to try to find another way around this. But when they returned with crest-fallen expressions and even more tears, Stiles had managed a weak smile as he tried to accept what was about to happen. So he embraced his friends. For the last time.

"Take care of each other." Stiles murmured into Scott's shoulder. His best friend―his brother―practically refused to let him go as he sobbed quietly against Stiles' neck. "You gotta promise me at least that."

"I do." Scott sniffled. "I do, Stiles―I―I promise."

"I'm sorry." Stiles murmured. He could feel tears prickling his eyes as he clutched onto Scott's shirt. "I'm so sorry..." He raised his eyes as he saw movement and watched as Gerard walked over with the rest of the leaders behind him.

"Scott." Allison spoke as she gripped his sleeve, giving it a tug. "We―we gotta go. Scott. Scott, let him go. Scott!"

"No!" Scott shouted and clutched on to his friend tighter. "No no no―Stiles―no no―oh god, please, no!"

"Scott, don't make this harder." Stiles begged in a whisper. "Please, you gotta go―you can't be here to watch."

Scott shook his head and clutched Stiles to his chest, built arms wrapping around him protectively as he glared at Gerard. "No! N-No no―you can't―you won't kill him! I―I won't let you! I won't let you kill my brother!" He yelled.

"Scott―" Stiles let out a breathe as he squirmed a little but it only made Scott hold tighter.

"He's the only family I've got left." Scott drawled, tears eyes hardening in anger. "I won't let him die." Stiles' body went limp as he sobbed into Scott's shoulder. One of the leaders stepped forward but it was Allison who made a move, aiming an arrow at him faster than lightening and the leader froze in shock.

"We won't let him die." She hissed. "Lay on hand on him and see what happens." There was a few minutes of a tense stare-off. Scott was still crying a little bit as he held his emotional friend to his chest. Allison had dried her tears, the only thing in her eyes were fierce determination as she kept her arrow posed and ready to fire. The other leaders shared hesitant looks before they looked at Gerard, who was studying the situation with a stoic expression.

"He is not going to die." Gerard spoke, breaking the silence. "We will not kill him." Stiles slowly lifted his head a little to peek over at the Argent, who held his hand up to Allison as he walked over. Scott growled in warning but the Argent paid no attention as he lifted Stiles' hoodie a little bit, pulling the collar of his shirt a little so he could examine the bite mark.

"Then... what are we going to do?" One of the leaders asked hesitantly.

"Stiles," Gerard leaned back a little and looked into his eyes. "are you loyal to us? Will you forever be loyal to us?"

"Of course―you know that." Stiles didn't waste a second to respond back as he straightened a little in Scott's arms. "I've been to loyal to you since the start."

Gerard smiled a little at that. "Which is why I'm giving you the only exception, son." He stayed silent for a moment before he stuffed his hands into his pockets. "You will not be executed." Scott let out a breathe of relief and buried his face into Stiles' hair. "Instead, you will allow you to shift into a wolf and still be a hunter." Gerard held up his hand as the other leaders stepped forward to protest. "Because I, son, have a very special task that only you can do."

Stiles exhaled a little and lifted his head from Scott's chest, looking up at the man warily. "Okay... what―what is it?"

"You are familiar with the Hale pack, correct?" Gerard inquired. Stiles' stiffly nodded in response. "We have been trying to take down the pack for years now. They're an old enemy of ours that tore their way into our history pages. And I think I know how we can finally take them down. You see, Stiles," he stepped forward and put his hand on Stiles' lower back. "all we've ever been trying to do is break them from the outside. But it never works. So we need to work our way inside."

The boy paused a little. "So... you want me to... 'join' the Hale pack and earn their trust?" He asked, puzzled.

"Not just that." Gerard shook his head with a smile. "I'm tasking you with another special mission. Think you can do it?" He challenged. Stiles reached up and rubbed his eyes with his fists before nodding firmly. "That's my boy. Now, yes I want you to work your way into their pack and earn their trust. But what I also want you to do is kill the alpha." Stiles blinked up at him, eyes widening. "I want you to kill Talia Hale. Do you accept this mission, Stiles? Are you going to prove your loyalty to Argents, to the Sealgairs, by breaking the Hale pack up from the inside and kill their alpha?"

Stiles lifted his head to looked up at his friends, both of them looking relieved at the outcome but also speechless by it, before he looked back at Gerard with a determined look. "When do I start?"

Starting was pretty much asap. With the instructions and the special task burned into the back of his head, the bite mark lazily patched up, Stiles was set off to the preserve after a good 5 minute group-hug with his friends. To make it a bit more believable, he was instructed to make his way to the preserve on his own and he agreed; the Hale pack could be anywhere in Beacon Hills and the last thing they need is to see Stiles being dropped off by hunters, hugging them in a cheerful kind of manner, before he set out calmly into the preserve. So he was dropped off just at the start of Beacon Hills, duffle-bag containing his clothes in hand as he walked down the street. Cars zoomed past him and he could see curious faces in the windows of them staring at him as they passed by (Stiles was not ashamed to admit that he made faces at them in return for their unwelcome staring). There were several shops outlining the roads in beginning of Beacon Hills; a few restaurants, two barber shops, a clothing store, and a car dealership. But as he walked deeper into Beacon Hills, the business buildings began to thin down slowly and houses began to appear; varying between those that need a good TLC session, those that were in tip-top shape, and those that looked like they could crumble even if he just poked it.

Stiles was actually tempted to poke one of them just to see if it did crumble.

His shoulder was hurting pretty bad and he could feel the sweat rolling down his temple but he continued to push forward, the direction to the preserve imprinted in his brain as he turned corners and crossed streets. As he turned down a certain road and walked a ways down it, the outlines of houses began to get replaced with the thickness of the woods. He eventually found himself on a slightly beat up road before he spotted a small parking lot just in front of an entrance; topped off a sign at the side.

Beacon Hills Preserve. No entry after dark.

With a small snort, Stiles easily walked into the entrance but the more he walked in, the more his skin crawled. He felt as if he was being watched and it made the anxiety claw up his spine. His pace got quicker and he found himself looking behind his shoulder more often than usual. It had gotten to the point where he was practically running for what he felt like was his life.

Stiles had his head turned to look behind him just as he collided into something. He let out a unmanly shriek as he hit the ground.

"What are you doing here?" A voice demanded and Stiles looked up in surprise. A tall male stood before him; broad shoulders, even broader chest and biceps, his sharp jaw defined with a well-trimmed scruff and his eyes were intense―boring into Stiles' and giving off the 'fuck with me I dare you' vibe―but he also had thick eyebrows. Grumpy eyebrows.

"This is private property." The male hissed angrily.

Stiles gulped. "W-Well.. if this is private property, then what are you doing here?" He retorted. The male's eyes narrowed at him. Grumpy eyebrows: 0. Stiles: 1.

With a small growl, the male reached down and grabbed Stiles by his shoulder before freezing as Stiles let out a cry of pain. The male's eyes widened a fraction as he sensed pain radiating off of the human and his eyes raked him head to toe to check for any injury before they bored back into his eyes questioningly. Stiles let out a breathe as he lightly touched his shoulder, feeling faint and queasy.

"Hang on," the male raised his hand as he observed Stiles. "I recognize you. You're a hunter!"

"Was." Stiles corrected with a small chuckle, his eyes fluttering closed a little. "I was.. I was told they reside here."

Grumpy Eyebrows scowled and immediately went on the defense side. "You're not getting nowhere near―"

"I was bitten." Stiles whispered and opened his eyes to look up at him. Grumpy Eyebrows paused and squinted, as if he doesn't believe him. "Rogue alpha.. We.. We were trying to kill it before it killed.. more and it.. it bit me as its last resort.." Grumpy Eyebrows studied him for a moment and the next, Stiles found himself with his back against the nearest tree as the nameless stranger yanked Stiles' jacket and collar out of the way to examine the lazily patched up bite. Grumpy Eyebrows let out a breathe as if he had been holding it, eyes wide in shock.

"Normally.. it's code to execute.. those who are bitten.." Stiles exhaled and leaned his head back against the trunk. Grumpy Eyebrows raised his eyes to look up at him. "But.. I bet they were hoping―they were hoping it'd kill me.." There was a few moments of stilled silence before the unnamed male quickly dashed over to where Stiles had dropped his bag, putting the strap on his shoulder before he rushed over to Stiles.

"Well," he huffed as he lifted Stiles into his arms bridal saddle. "let's just hope you don't turn into a kanima."

Stiles let out a small laugh and let his head loll on to his muscular shoulder. "Wouldn't that be a trip." He had blocked out seconds after that and began to slip in and out of consciousness. He had woken up briefly when the male was running through the forest with him in his arms. He had then woke up again as the male jogged up the porch steps. And once again, he awoke to him laying down on a table with voices all around him; some shouting confused, angry questions and a familiar voice trying to calm them down and explain. Everything went black after that and Stiles wasn't sure how long he was out until he woke again. This time, he wasn't on a table and he was instead laying in a bed. His eyes had fluttered openly slowly, the sun beaming down at him through an open window. As he slowly lifted himself off of the bed, he looked around groggily. He was obviously in a room of some sort; it was very neat but didn't have much to offer when it came to decoration. Just a simple bed, nightstand, dresser, closet, desk, and a large shelf that had more than enough books on it. With a soft groan, he placed his feet on the ground and discovered that he was in new clothes; his bloody and torn shirt and jacket were replaced with a new shirt and he was instead wearing a pair of light grey sweats. He hummed in appreciation and walked towards the door, slowly opening it--thankfully it did so without a sound--and peeked down both ways of the hallway. To his right, where there were a more couple of doors, was a staircase leading down; he could hear people talking. Curious, he slowly walked his way closer to the stairs and the voices, the words, became more distinct.

"How do we know it's not a trap?" A female hissed. "He's a hunter."

"What part of him getting bit by the rogue and being kicked out of the hunting business did you not catch?"

"Enough." A voice barked. Now that voice Stiles knew. Grumpy Eyebrows. "He said earlier that the hunters have a code to execute those who got bitten."

"So then why wasn't he executed?"

"Well, I did a little picking around. Turned out the pipsqueak―" Stiles was offended. "―was basically Gerard's son. Gerard took him under his wing and trained him to be a hunter when his parents died."

"So the guy had a soft spot him?"

"Maybe." Grumpy Eyebrows exhaled. Stiles was halfway down the stairs by now. "Maybe he didn't want to watch him die so he spared him in hopes of the bite killing him."

"Or maybe so that he could turn into a wolf and the other hunters could do the job for him."

"First off," Apparently Stiles' presence had alarmed everyone and he watched in amusement as they all jolted in alarm. "My name is not pipsqueak." He shot a look to Grumpy Eyebrows. "It's Stiles. Stiles Stilinski."

"What the hell is a 'Stiles'?"

Grumpy Eyebrows held his hand up to silence them as he stepped forward. "Is that actually your name?" He questioned.

"Well, no. Kind of? Stiles is more like a nickname." Stiles shrugged, rubbing the side of his neck. "My real name is Polish and it's too hard for anyone to pronounce so.. Stiles it is." He explained. Grumpy Eyebrows got closer to him to lift his collar, examining the neat cotton patch on his shoulder before letting out a hum; Stiles couldn't tell if he was relieved or surprised.

"The bite has healed completely. Guess his body accepted it." He announced and ripped the cotton patch off, eyes glinting amusement at Stiles' shriek.

"Wait, wait. Hold up." A female stepped forward, her stoic expression and the 'bitch' aura she had around her made Stiles think she was Grumpy Eyebrows' sister. "Did you say... did you say Stilinski?"

Stiles slowly nodded warily. "Yeah? I'm a Stilinski. Why? Name sound familiar?" He taunted with narrowed eyes. Grumpy Eyebrows paused and looked up at him before he looked at the rest of his pack. There was a moment of hesitation, eye contact being shared between all of them seemingly a newfound conversation going on that didn't include Stiles. The same female stepped forward with a small sigh.

"Let's take a small step back, shall we?" She proposed, voice toned down with a lot less bite and more confused exhaustion than anything else. "My name is Cora. This," she gestured to Grumpy Eyebrows. "is Derek, my older brother."

"Derek?" Stiles echoed and looked at him. "Well, thank fuck I know your name now. I was just gonna call you Grumpy Eyebrows." There was a few disguised snickers from among the pack but Derek seemed unamused, simply glaring at him. "See? Grumpy eyebrows―oh my god, you know what else you remind me of?!" He shrieked and flailed his arms a little before gesturing to him excitedly. "The Grumpy Cat! Oh my god, you're a living breathing meme!" Even Cora's lips perked up in an amused grin as she lowered her head, others snickering even louder as Derek glared harder at him.

"I like this kid." One of the pack members laughed as he walked over to Stiles. "'Sup, man. Welcome the pack. Name's Isaac." He greeted with a smile. Stiles returned the smile and shook his hand. "But, yeah. You're right. He does resemble The Grumpy Cat all too well, doesn't he?"

"Isaac." Derek groaned, rolling his eyes. "Stop encouraging him."

"Oh don't be such a sourwolf." Stiles scoffed with a wave of his hand. Derek's eye twitched. Grumpy Eyebrows: 0. Stiles: 2.

The other pack members approached to greet Stiles, some reluctantly while others were curious and excited to meet him. Cora and Laura were both Derek's sisters. Then there was Boyd, Isaac, and Erica that didn't have the Hale name but earned it when they got bitten by Derek a couple months back. Then was Peter Hale ("You look like pedophile type―are you the pedophile type?" "I dunno, wanna find out?" "...Security!"). There were other members of the pack that didn't have the Hale name but were still welcomed in it; Julie, Veronica, Damien, Ian, and Dan (Julie and Damien were married and had a couple pups running around while Veronica and Ian together with Veronica expecting). Talia reeked of alpha-ness. She held her head up high, shoulders squared, voice firm but she spoke softly when it came to her pack members. She bore the title of the pack alpha with pride.

As he was introduced to everyone, he also learned their ranks. Erica, Boyd, Isaac, and Cora were all betas. Laura was the female alpha, obviously a slightly lower rank compared to Talia, and Peter was the male alpha. However Derek, holy shitballs, Derek―was pretty much second in line for being the pack alpha. His rank of alpha-ness surpassed Peter's and Laura's, so much so that when Talia isn't around, Derek is assigned the pack alpha role.

Not only is he severely and unfortunately attractive, but he's also a major badass.

"The full moon is tomorrow night." Derek informed as he showed Stiles towards his room. "To prevent you from lashing at all of us, we'll have to take precautions."

"Is that so? Do you have like―a secret sex dungeon? Gonna tie me up 50 Shade of Grey style?" Stiles cheekily chimed.

Derek sighed, like he was at his breaking point of patience, and rolled his eyes. "How you're not murdered every second is beyond me." He groaned and folded his arms across his chest. "We will have to restrain you. I've been assigned to train you and learn control. If you survive tomorrow night, then we will start you training the next day. That's an if, Stiles."

Stiles looked up as he set his duffle bag on his bed. "Has there been times where some haven't survived their first full moon?" He asked. Derek fell silent for a moment before he nodded.

"The first full moon is always the hardest for newly turned werewolves." He sighed and walked forward, further into Stiles' room, and watched him with flaked interest as Stiles began unpacking. "It's not uncommon for those to die or be killed."

"Do you think I'll die?" Stiles asked after a moment.

"I hope you will." Derek grunted.

"Oh, please. And who will keep you on your toes with their sarcastic wit and unbelievable charm?" Stiles cooed, laughing as Derek looked torn between shredding him to pieces or kicking him across the house.

"You are unbelievable." Derek deadpanned.

Stiles grinned at him. "Unbelievably attractive, I know. Thank you." He curtsied for dramatic affect. Derek groaned with a roll of his eyes and turned to begin walking away. Stiles snickered to himself and grabbed one of his shirts, yanking it out of the bag and jolting a little as something clanked onto the ground. He looked down to his feet and noticed that it was a framed picture of his parents that he had packed with him. When he bent down to pick it up, a hand has slowly reached out to grab the frame instead. There was a pregnant silence as Stiles look up at Derek, who was staring at the picture with a look of―sorrow?

"...They're your parents?" Derek asked, though it more like a statement. Stiles nodded slowly and reached out to take the frame into his own hands.

"Yeah... Died when I was young... Too young..."

The silence grew and Derek shifted a little before stepping closer to him, reaching out to put his hand on Stiles' shoulder.

"Tomorrow morning. Meet me at the tire swing at 9am." He instructed. Stiles turned his head to look at him, eyebrows pinched together in confusion. Derek was too close, faces merely centimeters apart but neither seemed bothered by the proximity.

"Why? What for?" Stiles wondered.

"I need to show you something." Derek hesitated before he looked down at the framed picture. "...And I can tell you about your parents." Stiles' eyes widened as he opened his mouth to speak but Derek was already closing the door, calling out a reminder of the place and time for them to meet up. The newly turned werewolf looked back at the picture of his mother and father, both smiling wide and happy at the camera, and longingly touched the glass with the patch of his thumb. And as he carefully placed the photo on the dressed, he reached into his bag to pull out a cross pendant; the horizontal dash of the cross was streaked red while the diagonal dash was a shiny silver and in the middle of it was the Polish military eagle emblem, the emblem being Sealgairs' heirloom but also a symbol for Stiles' father's military history. Stiles carefully put the pendant down on to the dresser in front of the photo and let out a breathe. He heard some noises outside and turned his head, approaching his still opened window to discover Laura and Cora outside playing with Julie's and Damien's pups with Derek and Laura keeping watch. As he watched the pups squeal and scream happily as Laura chased after them, wide smile blooming on her face, Stiles' stomach churned.

Something was different. About this house, about this place, about them―about all of them, about all of this. For some reason, something was gnawing at his subconsciousness; like there's a missing puzzle piece, a very important, missing from his almost complete puzzle.

And as he looked over at Derek only to find the alpha looking up at him, Stiles had another feeling that the sourwolf knew exactly where that missing puzzle piece was.

Chapter Text

That night when he went to sleep, Stiles had a weird dream; a dream about his parents, about his family. And it was strange―it felt as if the dream was... real. Too real. Like they were memories above all.

He found himself in a dining room, standing in front of a small dining table and 2 chairs along with a kiddy-chair. He hear voices, a male and a female, speaking to each other in hushed tone; so he followed the sounds with careful, slow foot-steps. As he walked, realized that he didn't recognize the house, these walls, the portraits hanging up on them--but it felt like home. He felt like he was home, that this house is where he belonged.

"What are we supposed to do?" The female stressed. "If they find out, nothing good will come of this!" Stiles walked a little more forward and stepped into the archway that was leading into the living room. There they both stood, Stiles' parents, seemingly in a disturbing debate about something; seeing his mother was pacing around and his father was sitting on the couch with his eyebrows furrowed.

"But we can't just leave them out there to die, Claudia." His father reasoned as he too got to his feet. "They're just as innocent as our son." They? Who is they? Who are they talking about?

Claudia turned to face her husband in distraught and sighed, rubbing her face with both of her hands. "I know. I know that, but.. we can't- we can't pull our son into this." She sighed. "But you're right. They haven't done anything wrong. They don't deserve to die."

"So what are we going to do?" His father asked as he approached her, sliding his arm around her waist. Claudia looked defeated for a moment before she exhaled, raising her hands to cup his cheeks in her hands.

"We protect them. Like we planned to." She whispered. Stiles raised his head as someone knocked on the door before he looked back over to his parents, who wavered for a moment before his father stepped over to the window; his shoulders relaxing a little.

"They're here." He spoke and turned to face his wife. She nodded and went upstairs as she began to hear crying through the baby monitor. Stiles walked forward until he was able to peek over his father's shoulder when the male opened the door. "I'm glad you all could make it."

"We appreciate the hospitality." A different voice returned and Stiles paused. That voice. He knew that voice.

"Well, we couldn't just let you die out there." His father stepped aside to let the company into the home. "Our house is a little small, but I think the basement is roomy enough to fit all of you in it." He pondered. Stiles froze, his eyes widening. There, standing in the entrance hallway, stood Talia Hale and another male―he was the only one that Stiles didn't recognize. As Stiles observed the two people, he noticed that there was a third person with them; a young boy that hiding behind his mother's legs.

"We really appreciate this. But you do know the consequences if they find out..." The male spoke as he took the young boy into his arms, lifting him up to his chest. He must be the father. And if that's Talia Hale then that boy is...

Talia turned to look at the young boy with a small smile. "Derek." She spoke softly. "Say hello. We'll be staying here for a little while." Derek lifted his head shyly from his father's shoulder and looked up, big eyes staring at Stiles' father before he managed a small wave. Stiles turned around as he heard someone coming down from the stairs. Claudia appeared, cradling an infant in her arms, and smiled softly at Talia.

"Who is that?" Derek spoke. Claudia's smile grew and she approached the young boy. "Is that a baby?"

Claudia laughed softly. "Yes, it's a baby. You were like this once, too, Derek. Probably years ago because I'm sure you.. age differently." She glanced up awkwardly at Talia before she peered back down at Derek. "This is my son, Derek. You're a few years older than him, of course, but I hope you two will get along." Derek studied the infant for a moment before his eyes pulsed a golden yellow and he reached out with a small hand to touch the infant's chubby cheek.

"What's its name?" He asked quietly. Claudia's eyebrows furrowed a little in confusion as she watched Derek seemingly study, as if trying to memorize, the infant.

"Uh," she glanced up at Stiles' father, who shrugged, then looked back at the younger Derek. "his name is Mieczyslaw Stilinski." Derek's nose scrunched at the odd name, toddler vocabulary trying to work in his brain while he tried to pronounce the name. But Claudia only laughed and reached out to pat Derek's head. "You'll get it one day. Come on, I'll show you to where you all will be staying." Stiles' father shut the door behind the small family and they all turned to begin walking down the entrance way. Suddenly, they all stopped and stared ahead of them―straight at Stiles. Stiles frowned a little and looked at all of their faces in confusion. It's as if they all could see him. It's as if they knew he was staying there.

"Stiles." His father spoke and he couldn't help but flinch a little. "Stiles, you need to wake up."

"What?" Stiles muttered in shock.

"Wake. Up." Claudia hissed before she walked towards him. "You will get your answers soon. You will. You will learn everything. But right now, you need to wake up!"

When Stiles opened his eyes, he was staring up at the ceiling of his room. His head was pulsing with a dull ache and when he shifted, it pounded a little more. With a soft groan, he lifted his head and rubbed his temple with his fingertips and sighed. So he stayed seated on his bed with his head hung a little low to try to ease his migraine away. It took a couple of minutes but the raging in his head began to slowly dissipate away. With a sigh, he rubbed his face with his hands and got up to his feet.

The dream was weird. He recognized his parents immediately, since he had a picture or two of them but...the Hales? Talia Hale and her husband? Derek? What the hell―why would his parents even dare to shelter them? What was the reason behind it?

The endless questions made his head pulse and he let out a sharp breathe while he leaned against his dresser for stability. He raised his eyes and looked up at the framed picture of his parents; staring long and hard at the photo before his gaze hardened a little.

Something's up. Something is up and I will find out what it is.

Stiles snatched his father's pendant and put it around his neck before slipping his jacket on. When he went outside, the air was still crisp and he could smell the fresh rain in the air. Leaves and twigs crunched under his shoes as he walked around the house and into the backyard, where he soon spotted Derek leaning against a tree' standing next to the tire swing.

"You're a little late." Derek grunted with his firm arms across his chest.

"By like―what? 2 minutes?" Stiles scoffed and put his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, sorry, just... had a weird dream, that's all." Derek eyed Stiles for a moment before he sighed, shifting on his feet.

"Look," Derek hesitated momentarily; as if battling with something. "I know I told you that I will tell you about your parents... But another part of me is telling me not to."

"What?" Stiles exclaimed. "Why not?"

Derek exhaled and looked away. "Because I'm not entirely sure what Gerard fed you your entire life. Hell, I'm not even sure if you'd even believe a single word I'd say even if I did tell you." He slanted his gaze back over to Stiles. "Because... Stiles, it's a mess. The whole story―the history, how it happened, when it took place, the aftermath―everything―it's just a big fat mess and I'm not―I'm not sure if you're ready for that."

The newly turned wolf let out a small breathe before taking a firm step forward. "Listen, Mr. Grumpy Brow. I grew up with the idea that my parents were murdered, do you get that? That they were murdered. By you. By you and your entire fucking pack. Now if there is something that I don't know, something that Gerard hasn't told me―something about my parents―then I have a right to know!" He yelled. "I have a right to know!"

Derek fell silent for a moment. "They were murdered." He whispered. Stiles paused, facial expression twisting into confusion. "...But not in the way they told you... Come. Follow me, Stiles. I need to show you something." Stiles remained behind for a good second or two to try to wrap his head around all of this before he stumbled a little to try to catch up to Derek. The other male said nothing as he leads Stiles through the forest, deeper into the tree line where the path they were on began to narrow; trees closing in, branches hung lower. Stiles had to guard his face with his arms to prevent getting slapped in the face by the hands of the branches, ducking his head and swiveling around them. He was all too focused on ducking from the branches when his foot caught on a root and he nearly face planted into a rose bush. However, his fall was broken by a pair of firm arms holding up as his face pressed into a sturdy chest. Stiles froze for a seconds before he slowly lifted his head from Derek's chest. Derek was looking down at him with his normal stoic expression (though if Stiles looked close enough, his eyes looked softer than usual) as his grip was light and gentle on Stiles' wrists.

"You okay?" Derek whispered. Stiles held his breathe―faces merely centimeters apart―and stiffly nodded, licking his lips nervously. He caught Derek's eyes flicker down to watch the movement before he seemingly snapped out of whatever trance he was in, pulling his head back before snatching his hands away. Derek cleared his throat and looked around slowly before gesturing an arm out.

"Look around, Stiles. What do you see?" He queried. Stiles fixed his jacket before he lifted his head to begin looking around. His whisky eyes widened immediately at the sight of flower bushes―tons of them. Everywhere.

"Flowers... Flower bushes? But- I- what- how?" Stiles gaped. "The rest of the forest is―"

"―Dead or dying, yes." Derek sighed with a small nod. "But this part of the forest... is still alive. And you, as do I and my family, have to thank your mother for that." Stiles whipped his head around so fast he nearly got whiplash. "Your mother... really loved flowers, actually. Though she did plant an assortment of herbs and other trees as well. But she didn't just create this area for her 'love of gardening.' No―no there was a whole different reason." Derek glanced up at Stiles, who was looking at him with tears in his eyes and a look that told him to continue. "She planted all of these flowers for you, Stiles."

"...For―for me?"

"Yes."

"W-Why?"

"She wanted you to find this place."

"...I don't...I don't get it―I don't―I-I don't understand!"

Derek was quick to be by Stiles' side when he sensed the incoming panic attack. "Stiles. Stiles, breathe. Stiles!" He reached up and cupped Stiles' face in his hands. "Stiles. Stiles―look at me. Look at me, Stiles. Breathe, okay? Can you breathe for me? In and out. In and out―yes, there you go. Take a breathe―yes―and let it out slowly. Keep your eyes on me, okay? Focus on me and the sound of my voice and just―just keep breathing. In and out. In and out." After a few moments, Stiles eventually calmed down and Derek was able to guide him to a large boulder for him to sit on. "I know this all confusing, Stiles.. and I know this is a lot to take in."

"Why did you bring me here?" Stiles breathed and looked up at him, voice shaky with distraught as tears poured down his cheeks. "Why did my mother plant all these flowers?"

Derek studied him for a moment before he ran his fingers through Stiles' hair. "I want you to figure that out on your own... But I will give you a hint." He caved. "These flowers... All of them having their own meaning to them. Figure out their meaning, Stiles." Stiles barely felt the soft kiss that was placed on his forehead, barely watched Derek walk away and leave him alone in the garden. His body felt too numb to move and he just kept staring at one of the bushes with a blank stare; eyebrows pulled together and fat tears rolling slowly down the skin of his cheeks. The more he stared at the bush, the more the reality began to sink in.

Rose bush. White roses. The bush he was staring at―it was a white rose bush.

Shooting up to his feet in realization, he looked around frantically to look at the other flowers. White roses. Yellow roses. Coral roses. And so many, many more.

Without wasting a beat, he whipped out his phone and took a picture of every single plant, herb, and tree that was in the garden. He moved quickly with shaky fingers and jagged breathes.

His mother planted this garden for Stiles. She planted this as a message for him, for just him. Her messages were in each plant, each herb, each tree. She lived on in every single thing she planted and god―Stiles never felt so comfortable and so safe than he does now; standing in the garden of his mother.

Stiles raced back to the house, promptly ignoring the odd looks from everyone else―and Cora yelling his name questioningly before Derek had silenced her―and isolated himself in his room. He grabbed his lap top, a notebook, and a pen to immediately begin doing research on the photos he had took. The pen scribbled and scribbled and scribbled, laying out information about the flower as he taped a printed off photo of each plant next to its profile for easier identification. By the time he was done, he had a pulsing headache behind his eyes and a major urge to piss an ocean. And as he returned from the bathroom with a glass of water in his hands, he reviewed the information he had came across; starting off with the flowers.

White roses: purity, innocence, reverence, silence.
Yellow rose: joy, friendship, the promise of a new beginning.
Coral rose: friendship, modesty, sympathy.
Peach rose: gratefulness, gratitude.
Anemone: fading hope, forsaken however it also symbolizes anticipation.
Hydrangea: emotion, understanding.
Calendula: grief, sorrow, despair.
Cyclamen: farewell, resignation, goodbye.
Rhododendron: beware, caution, danger.
Bittersweet: truth.
Black-eyed Susan: justice.

But what had alarmed Stiles the most was this huge, beautiful Willow tree that stood in the middle of the garden. What does a Willow Tree symbolize? Sadness.

He didn't get it, but the more the searched in his brain for more answers―for more clues―the aching behind his eyes got worse. Stiles had figured out every item in the garden and their meaning behind them but what was his mother's message? On the contrary, Stiles feels as if his mother planted each item as if she planted one of her emotions whether it'd be fear, joy, sorrow, despair, etc. She planted them to serve as a message.

"A message for what?" Stiles muttered underneath his breathe as his eyes scanned the information he had written down. Yellow rose. Anemone. Calendula. Rhododendron. Bittersweet. Those flowers stuck out the most to Stiles. Claudia was clearly trying to tell him something by planting these specific flowers. But he didn't know where to begin looking―where to start.

And all these questions began to make his head pulse all over again.

With a groan, he slammed his laptop shut and ran his hands over his face before swiftly snatching his phone. He got to his feet and searched through his contacts before pressing the one he was looking for. It took two rings before Gerard answered.

"Stiles." Gerard hummed out. "I was looking forward to your call. How is everything going on your end?"

"Smooth, actually. Smoother than.. yeah, smoother than I thought." Stiles confessed as he glanced to his doorway to see if anyone was standing nearby. "Listen, Gerard. I actually called to ask you about something."

"Okay. What is it that you ask?"

"...What happened to my parents?"

"Stiles, didn't I already tell you everything that happened?"

Stiles swallowed. "Just tell me."

Gerard sighed on the other side of the phone. "I'll just be repeating the same thing I told you back when you were 10. Your parents, Claudia and Noah, were hunters. They were given the task to find the residence that the Hale pack was in and to kill the alpha, Talia, because Talia had killed one of our own. They got ambushed and overpowered and they were killed on the spot, Stiles. We found their bodies in pieces."

The hunter bites down on his bottom lip, hand gripping harder on the phone. "...Are you sure that that's what actually happened?"

"Are you doubting me? Do you honestly think I'd lie to you?"

"You have lied to me a couple of times, actually."

"Well, that's because you're a troublesome kid, Stiles. You have a knack for creating havoc―of course I have to lie a couple of times. But do you honestly think I'd lie to you about your parents? I thought you said you were loyal to me, Stiles."

"No―I―of course I am!" Stiles exclaimed. "I'm not doubting you. And I'm certainly not calling you a liar or anything."

"Then why do you sound so wary, son?"

Biting his bottom lip, Stiles turned to look at his notebook. "It's just... there's something else going on and I don't know exactly what but... it's bothering me."

The Argent exhaled and Stiles could basically hear his frustration. "Listen to me and listen close. Whatever the Hale pack is telling you or trying to tell you, don't listen. Do you not get the part where they tore your parents to shreds, Stiles? They're murderers, okay? Murderers. Whatever they're trying to say to you is a complete lie. Now, call me back tomorrow if you manage to make it out alive tonight."

"Tonight? what do you mean?"

Gerard chuckled. "Guess you've been distracted. Tonight is the full moon, son. Your first moon. I'm sure the Hales will have a method to teach you control. So if you survive your first full moon, call me tomorrow."

The call ended shortly after and Stiles was numbly staring down at his phone. When there was a knock on the door, he jolted a little and shot his head up.

"Oh, sorry." Laura apologized with a smile. "Didn't mean to scare you."

"Oh, uh―it's fine." Stiles sputtered and shoved his phone in to his pocket. "Anyways, what's up?"

"Well, we wanted to tell you what's going to happen tonight during the full moon, actually." Cora joined as she appeared by her sister's side. "So can you come with us for a couple of seconds?" Slowly, Stiles nodded and followed the girls downstairs. As they passed through the living room, Stiles glanced up and showed Derek a small smile before he followed the sisters downstairs into the basement.

"Unfortunately, the first full moon for a new werewolf is hard. It's even more difficult for a bitten werewolf. Because if you were born, like we were, you would've learned control long ago. So," Cora sighed and guided Stiles into a dungeon section of the basement; where there were ropes and chains and straps all over the place. "We'll have to go with... this method."

Stiles gulped. "Wow." He muttered. "This is, uh.. definitely not 50 Shades of Grey."

Laura snickered a little. "Derek said you said that when you two first met in the forest earlier." She giggled. Stiles paused and flicked his eyes up to her, eyes narrowing slightly at the memory of toddler Derek and infant Stiles meeting in his dream.

"Thankfully, it's still daylight and you won't start feeling the effects of the full moon until 3 more hours. It gives us time to cover the basics for control." Cora explained as she walked over to a shelf. "However, the one who is better at control would be Derek. I react mainly on impulses, so.. let's just say I didn't volunteer to help train you for this. But here. I think this might help." Stiles looked down as she handed him something. With confused hands, he took the talisman and ran his fingers over the swirls.

"The hell is this?" He grumbled.

"It's called a Triskelion Medallion." Stiles raised his head to watch Derek ascend down from the stairs and over towards them. "We use it to help new Betas to learn control over full moons. We also have a mantra to we chant to ensure focus." Derek explained as he walked to Stiles, pointing to each swirl as he listed off the 3 worded mantra. "Alpha. Beta. Omega."

Stiles looked down at the trinket then looked up at Derek. "Can an Omega become a Beta?" He asked. Derek nodded. "And a Beta can become an Alpha?" Derek nodded once more. "So... can an alpha become an omega?" The alpha seemed to hesitate for a moment before he nodded reluctantly with a long sigh.

"Yeah. They can." Derek reached up and curled Stiles' hand around the talisman. "Keep this with you tonight, okay? When you feel the full moon beginning to kick in, begin saying the mantra and grip on to the talisman as hard as you can. Focus on the words, focus on the texture of the talisman. I know that when I used it for the first time, I found it easier to focus on it if I ran my fingers along the swirls to imprint the image of the Triskelion into my head." He suggested.

Cora squeezed Stiles' shoulder. "I'm sure you'll survive tonight, kid. You're a fighter, both literally and figuratively." Stiles laughed softly and looked down at the talisman. "Besides... I'm not the only one hoping that you will survive tonight. There's so much more we can teach you about being a werewolf, about everything." She pauses briefly and gave his shoulder another squeeze. "It'd be a shame if you didn't make it." With that, she gave a small nod to Derek before she walked up the stairs.

"If you survive tonight, we can start sparring lessons? Though I'm not quite sure it'd be of use since you're already very well trained." Laura pointed out with a bashful chuckle. "But... you know how to fight like a hunter. Bet you don't know how to fight like a werewolf." Stiles watched her leave with a light scowl and only looked away from the stairs when he heard Derek chuckle.

"They're being kinda cryptic, aren't they?" He asked, a teasing tone to his voice that had Stiles smiling instead of scowling.

"More coy than cryptic." He corrected.

The alpha laughed softly. "But they are right, Stiles. There's a lot you still need to learn about being a werewolf, about your abilities, about it's consequences. What? You honestly thought you'd be given all of these powers and not have anything else biting your ass along the way?"

Stiles howled in laughter. "Wow!" He yelled. "Mr. Grumpy Eyebrowed Sourwolf using sarcasm! I need to mark this on the calendar." Derek joined him in the laughter as he pushed Stiles' shoulder.

"Not the point!" He criticized. "I'm serious, Stiles. There are things you need to watch out. Full moons being one of them but once you learn control, you eventually learn that the full moon is the least of your worries. Now, come on. Talia made a fucking feast for 50 and I know you have a stomach of 20."

The beta snorted. "More like 40 but whose keeping track?"


Stiles found himself forgetting about everything as he sat at the dinner table with them. He forgot about Gerard, about the mission, about Scott and Allison, and everything else. For some reason as he sat in the chair, eating the delicious home-cooked meal and joining the fits of laughter shared by the family or causing a useless debate about aliens and whether they'd 'fuck this shit I'm out' if they'd ever try to take the planet... he found himself feeling at home here. Like he belonged here. Like he always belonged here. Like this was meant to happen.

And even as he helped clean up, helping Talia clean the dishes despite her persists, he looked at the pack alpha and saw a bit of his own mother in her eyes. When Talia smiled gently at him and kissed his forehead, thanking him for the help, Stiles felt as if the notion was natural; as if he was looking right at his mother in the first place.

He had to turn his head away to fight off the tears stinging his eyes.

The full moon had began to peek out from the clouds an hour later and Stiles could begin to feel it; a gnawing in the back of his head as his hands shook, a deep rumble building and building in his chest. It was his wolf, trying to claw its way out.

The siblings brought Stiles down to the dungeon to chain him to the wall, raising his arms above his head before wrapping them completely in chain. Stiles could practically feel his eyes changing color as he growled and snarled at Derek, who didn't even flinch as he tightened the chains.

"Say the mantra, Stiles." Derek ordered as he held up the talisman in front of Stiles' face. "Say it. Stiles, say it."

"...Alpha... Beta..." Stiles growled menacingly and shook his head quickly, squeezing his eyes shut. "Omega..."

"Again."

"Alpha.. Beta.. Omega.."

"Again."

"Alpha.." Stiles panted and opened his eyes to look at the Triskelion. "Beta.." He raised his glowing eyes slowly to looked up at the barred window, which gave him a peek of the full moon. "..Omega.."

Derek reached up, grabbed Stiles' face, and whipped his head back. "Stiles, don't look at the moon." He hissed. "Look at the Triskelion." Stiles could feel his heart rate picking up and he snarled at the alpha, gold eyes hardening. Derek squinted and had one second to react before Stiles broke one of his arms free from the chains and reached up, choking Derek with a loud bark. Derek's eyes immediately turned red and he let out a louder bark in return, a warning, but Stiles didn't listen. His grip tightened on Derek's throat, claws pricking into his skin even as Derek gripped his wrist just as hard.

"Stiles!" He shouted, alpha voice bouncing off of the walls. The beta jolted a little and let out a small hiss as he squeezed his eyes shut. "Repeat the mantra!" Stiles' eyes snapped open and he let out a deep growl, yanking on the last restraints that was holding him back from completely launching himself at Derek.

"I don't think it's working!" Peter called out, hiding behind a concrete pillar (typical). "Try something else!"

"Well, do you know another mantra?!" Derek yelled.

"I know one!" Cora revealed as she rushed to Derek's side. "The hunters have a mantra they say to keep the hunters in check, to remind them of where their loyalty stands."

"And to remind them of who they kill." Peter drawled out before quickly ducking as a rock of concrete came hurling his way. Stiles let out a roar as he stepped forward; one arm still wrapped in the chain that was still locked into place... on a small slab of concrete that he managed to yank out from the wall.

Cora stepped forward a little. "Stiles! What is the―" She grunted as Stiles swung at her, hitting her in the head with the slab of concrete. Derek immediately launched forward to stand between his sister and the beta, eyes bleeding red as he let out a loud alpha roar; loud and powerful enough to shake the entire house. The reaction was immediate for Stiles as he cowered away and pressed himself into the wall face first, pressing his forehead against the concrete as he let out jagged breathes. Derek took long, quick strides over to him and slammed Stiles into the wall before pressing himself against the male's back.

"What is the hunter's mantra?" He hissed into Stiles' ear while holding Stiles' squirming arms behind his back. "Stiles! Focus! What is the hunter's mantra?!"

Stiles growled and squeezed his eyes shut. "..The sun.. the m-moon.. the truth.."

"Again!!" Derek barked. "Say it again!!"

"The sun.. the moon.. the truth.."

"Again!!"

"The sun! The moon! The truth!" Stiles yelled back. It took a few more seconds for Derek to finally release Stiles. His squirming had began to die down after the second repetition and the beta panted heavily against the wall before he slowly turned around.

"It's Buddhist. The mantra." Peter whispered as he walked out from behind the pillar. "What exactly does it mean?"

"All things.. can't long be hidden." Stiles answered as he stumbled forward. Derek was quick enough to catch him before the other had hit the ground. "Uh.. Is she gonna be okay..?"

"'m fine." Cora grunted as Laura lightly ebbed away the blood from her forehead. "But you've got a nice swing, Stilinski."

Stiles grinned a little as he straightened. "Bows and arrows weren't my only weapons, ya know."

Derek snorted a little and patted his shoulder. "Well, first full moon was with..." He looked up at the destroyed wall and raised his eyebrows. "Minimum damages."

"He destroyed an entire concrete wall." Peter deadpanned. "Just by giving the chains a light tug he practically ripped the wall out from its setting!"

"Wait, I did that?" Stiles gaped. He then looked over at Derek and grinned, wiggling his eyebrows a little. "Wanna arm-wrestle?" Derek gave him a look while Laura tried to hide her snickering.

"Anyways," Derek exhaled and gestured for Stiles to follow. "come on. We have this ritual that we do when a Beta survives their first full moon." Stiles perked up curiosity and immediately followed after Derek up the stairs and into the living-room.

"I was wondering what all that commotion was about." Talia huffed a laugh as she hugged Stiles. "I'm so glad you're alright, son. Now, we can officially perform the ceremony!"

"Derek said it was a ritual?" Stiles squeaked meekly, allowing the pack alpha to guide him into a chair.

"Well, it's an unofficial ritual but it's more like a ceremony." Talia explained as she went over to a dresser. "Each one of us have a tattoo on our bodies to represent something. We've earned these tattoos by surviving our first full moon."

Stiles nearly choked. "Wait, a―a tattoo?!" He squawked.

"Oh, hush now, child." She laughed. "It's not as bad as it sounds, okay? You earn the tattoo by learning control. By earning the tattoo," she walked over to Stiles with a blow torch in her hands. "you earn your official spot in the pack." Stiles pauses and looks up at the rest of the pack in silence, meeting all of their proud eyes before he landed on Derek's. "Are you up for this? I will warn you, it will be the most painful thing you'll experience."

With a small inhale, he looked at the woman. "Yeah.. Yeah, I'm ready for this." He grimaced.

She smiled at him. "Alright. Do you have anything in mind?" She pondered. Stiles licked his lips in thought before he reached up to pull the pendant out from under his shirt, holding it up to shower her. "The cross with the eagle or just the eagle?"

"Just the eagle." He answered. Talia studied the pendant before nodding, pulling up a stool before sitting down on it in front of him.

"Okay. Where exactly do you want it? Arm? Chest? Back? Leg?" She listed. Stiles paused briefly before shifted in the chair. He pulled the hem of his pants and boxers down a little to expose his hip bone. Talia's eyebrows shot up and she looked up at Stiles before looking over at Derek (whom she caught nonchalantly staring at the fairness of Stiles' skin before quickly looking away).

"It's where my dad had his tattoo placed." Stiles confessed softly. Talia's eyes searched Stiles' face before she smiled softly at him. She gave him a small nod before she lit the blow torch then glanced over at Derek. With a small sigh, Derek walked behind Stiles and held him down by his shoulders.

Talia was right. The pain was agonizing. Stiles kept screaming and squirming―it took both Derek, Peter, and Cora to hold him down. He eventually had passed out from the pain and woken up with a startled gasp, mind whirling and body numb. He could still feel the pain but it was a dull ache that he could easily ignore.

"Hey." Derek was the first to greet. "You're awake. How do you feel?"

"Peachy." Stiles responded sarcastically as he shifted to stand up. He pulled the hem of his pants down a little to look at his hip, pausing briefly in awe as he stared at the tattoo. "Wow, it came out great."

"Yeah, it did. You made a good choice." Derek complimented. He fell silent for a moment before leaning forward. "I was thinking, Stiles. I have something else to show you."

The beta paused briefly. "Is it about my mother?" He asked slowly.

Derek slowly shook his head. "No." Stiles nibbled on his bottom lip and looked down. "It's about your father, Stiles." He murmured. Stiles quickly raised his head and looked at him with furrowed brows. "Like your mother, your father created something. But this a little different, I suppose. Though I think it'll be easier to show you then explain it―"

"Show me." Stiles cut and leaned forward, eyes hard with determination. "Show me." Derek looked between Stiles' eyes then took his hand, guiding him out of the house and through the backyard; leading him on to a path.

"When me and my sisters were young, we always caused a lot of trouble with our parents." Derek began. "Whenever one of us would get into trouble, we'd kinda run away from the house for a couple of hours. We wouldn't stray far, close enough that they could still track us by scent and find us whenever they want to. But.. your father had built something in the woods not too far from the house and we took the place as our little... safe haven, as you'd call it. We'd go there whether we got into trouble or not and now, with the pups around, we take them here as well. The pups love it here, as much as me and my siblings did. And now, I think you'll love it too." Derek lifted his arm and pushed the thick branch of a pine tree out of the way and Stiles was able to spot a siting that nearly took his breathe away. A small, beautiful cottage was in front of him with a small garden attached to one side and a cute pond in front of it; flowing with ducks, swans, and other birds.

"My dad built a cottage?" Stiles gawked as he walked forward. "Why did he build a cottage?"

"I can't answer that." Derek clipped softly. "But I have a feeling he built this for you, Stiles. I don't entirely know what for, but.. here, lemme show you." Derek walked over to the cottage and opened the door, letting Stiles go in first. The entire interior was completely furbished, everything looking like it was well-maintained. "Look. Over here." Stiles looked over and quickly rushed over to Derek, who handed him a box with a 5-digit combination. "We found this sitting on the dresser when we first discovered the cottage."

"Then how do you know this was all left by my father?" Stiles countered.

Derek turned and grabbed a photo then handed it to Stiles. "Because this was laying on top of it." He replied. Stiles took the photo warily and studied it.

"This... This is a picture of me. When I just born in the hospital." He deadpanned. He was an infant, merely minutes old, in the photo as he lay sleeping in a blue blanket. The photo even had the time, date, and the hospital name in the corners of the photo. Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital. 04/08 11:21am. He turned the photo over and scribbled on the back, was a small note; for my only son, I love you. Love Always, dad.

Derek slowly walked over to Stiles as the atmosphere shifted and he could smell the sorrow off of the beta. He put his arm around Stiles' shoulders, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"I'll give you a little while to get familiar with all of this. I'll be back at the house with the others if you need me." Derek whispered before leaving. Stiles took a seat on to the couch and put the box on to the coffee table and stared. He just kept staring at the box, brows furrowed, as his eyes studied the 5-number combination.

He didn't have the combination. How the hell was he supposed to open the damn box?

Stiles ran his hands through his hair and let out a frustrated groan. He leaped to his feet and began to pace while trying to wrap his head around the possibilities of the combination. It could be anything, really. Any random combination of numbers but it could also be a specific set of numbers.

"They couldn't just leave me a hint?" He whined and rubbed his face repeatedly. With a defeated sigh, he plopped himself down on to the couch and leaned back. The beta stared at the box for a few more moments before he leaned forward to pluck the photo off of the table. He leaned back into the couch, let out a longing sigh, and stared at his infant self in the photo. Stiles smiled softly and held the photo a little higher as he leaned his head back against the cushions.

"I was so small..." He chuckled. "Guess that's not so surprising. I'm pretty much in a world of.." His voice trailed off and his eyebrows furrowed as he noticed something. Adjusting his position on the bed, he quickly sat up and lifted the photo up higher so that the light from the sun was hitting it. The light shone through the photo but he could see invisible markings on the photo. 95351. It took Stiles a solid second for realization to hit just before he pretty much scrambled face-first into the coffee table when he launched himself over to the box to enter the numbers in. The locks clicked open and he slowly lifted the lid up so he could peek into the box to see the contents. He slowly reached a hand out a hand and reached into the box to pull out a leather notebook that was tied closed when he noticed something glinting at the bottom of the box. Stiles reached back into the box and took out the last item in it; a badge. More importantly, it was the Sheriff of Beacon Hills' badge.

His stomach twisted a little. "So... my father... was the sheriff?" He muttered to himself then looked at the notebook. Pocketing the badge, he untied the straps and opened the notebook to begin reading the first entry.

03/21 10:36pm

Today we were ordered to kill the Hale pack. For years now, it's been the Argents main goal. It's a little tiresome, honestly. It's like their only focus; the end of the Hale pack.

There are more things than just the good old vendetta thing.

But the Argents are greedy. Too greedy.

At first, we were all pooled in to get the task done, naturally. Orders are orders. I should know, I'm the sheriff. Which I guess is kinda ironic seeing that I'm a hunter and a law enforcer. One should expect that I protect the citizens in both worlds. Right?

Sometimes, I just feel like a... killer. A walking weapon to do someone else' deed for them. To do their job for them so they don't get the blame, so they don't get their hands dirty.

Something else is going on. Something else is lying on the fine line between truth and reality. I need to find out everything. I need the truth. No matter how ugly.

03/23 5:58am

We just returned from what Gerard planned to be an 'advantage point'. What he wanted to do was have me and my team trail behind Talia Hale and see what she's up to. Gerard claims that he knows that she's up to something, as if she plotting something and he wants in on it. So he had us follow her.

She went to a fucking grocery store. For groceries.

I'm beginning to think Gerard is going a little insane.

I had asked around, trying to figure out the history between the Hale pack and the Argents. All I got was the same answer; the Hales killed one of his family members. It was vague, it lacked way too much detail. If the Hales did do it, how? When? Why? Where? Who?

Apparently, my digging around didn't go unnoticed. I think Gerard is suspecting something of me and Claudia. I need to be quieter. I need to be cautious. I can't risk my life and the safety of my wife, not when she's only months away from giving birth.

03/26 9:01pm

We decided on a name for our child. Seeing as it's going to be a boy, we wanted to name him after Claudia's late father. It's hard to pronounce but it reminds us of our normal, peaceful lives that we once had.

A lot has happened over the past 3 days. A lot of confusing things that tore us to shreds.

I dug a lot more but this time, I was more careful with doing it. Apparently, the Hales did kill one of the Argents. Some guy named Ian. I guess he was pretty close to Gerard despite not being family. Ian was 'a gifted hunter; killed without remorse; held a gun like a natural' and it.. kinda sickened me. It sounded like this Ian guy didn't have a soul.

And maybe that's why he and Gerard got along so chummy.

Anyways, what me and Claudia had found was.. disturbing. Ian have provoked the Hale pack. Done it without much of cause, really. He just did it because he had wanted to; he wanted to pick a fight with them. But the Hales stood their ground and try to weave their way around all of it; they knew that Ian was provoking them, doing all of this without orders meant two things. The guy's a total fucking idiot and.. if they attack a hunter who is 'supposedly minding his own business' then it'll end badly. And the Hales weren't exactly in fighting condition at the moment, so they tried to get him to leave the property. But Ian, persistent, arrogant Ian, refused. He fired a single shot at one of the Hale's and hit Talia Hale. Right in the shoulder. Peter Hale acted on instinct, not only to protect the pack alpha but to protect his sister--his family. So he charged and defended his territory against a schmuck who thought he could handle the claws and fangs of a werewolf. And it was his rightful death that sparked Gerard's insanity. Gerard was already crazy beforehand, it seemed Ian and he had the same kind of minds; wanting the Hale pack dead, code or not. So Gerard chose a new favorite, a new psychotic bitch that did his dirty work for him and LOVED the blood she spilled.

Kate Argent.

04/06 10:34pm

Gerard is planning something. I can see it in his eyes and it's not good. I think he knows. I think he knows that I dug into the past. He knows that I know what really happened; that the Hale pack didn't just attack an innocent hunter, they were defending their territory. Yet Gerard is feeding everyone lies.

Gerard knows that I know.

And he's coming for me.

We have to put as much space as we possibly can between the Argents and our son.

But I've also learned something else. Yesterday, there was an attack at the Hale house. Gerard had ordered Kate to kill every Hale and everyone associated with them. Luckily, the Hale's sensed the ambush in time and were able to flee before their house was burned to the ground. I can't just sit there and let the Argents go and kill a family like this. They're innocent, they haven't done ANY harm whatsoever yet Gerard is spewing bullshit about them killing hundreds.

I was the one to give the idea of sheltering the Hale pack in our home here in Beacon Hills. Claudia was, surprisingly, up for par with it. She agreed that they needed to be sheltered but neither of us really knew what to do once they get here. Because we all know it won't take long for Kate to find us.

04/08 11:30am

Claudia just gave birth! To a healthy baby boy. He's got my eyes. He's got her nose and her lips. He's got these cute little marks, beauty marks, all over his skin. Claudia was confused on why he had that, neither of us had any of those marks, but I think they make him unique. He's beautiful.

I won't let Kate touch him. Not now, not ever.

Talia has agreed to coming here to Beacon Hills. She's supposed to arrive within the upcoming days with the rest of the pack, which is small at the moment due to the other members of the pack fleeing (aka kicking themselves out of the pack aka having a death wish).

We need to come up with a plan. A back-up plan in case the one we have falls through.

04/12

The plan fell threw. The Hales arrived yesterday and we sheltered them into our basement. Their son, Derek, has seemingly taken an interest in our son. He seems very fond, very protective over him. I'm not entirely sure if it's because he's a newborn or.. something else. I tried asking about it but all I got was a glare (seriously, all this kid does is glare and it makes me wanna kick his supernatural ass out of the house and ground him).

But today, Kate came and the plan fell threw. It fell threw like we all knew it did.

Everyone is dead. Everyone around me is dead. So I need to write this with the last remaining strength I have.

This is for you, Stiles. If you ever find this journal, and I pray to God you do, I'm sorry. I'm sorry about not being better parents. They took you. They fucking took you, right out from underneath your mother's fingers as Kate put 3 bullets into her skull. You slipped out of my fingertips and they fucking TOOK YOU away from me, away from us. And as I lay here, holding my wife's dead body, I'm terrified for you. I'm not sure why Kate stopped when she saw you crying your mother's arms. I don't know why she took you. I don't know. What I do know is that I'm a horrible father. I should have fought harder, I should have stood my ground but instead.. I got my wife killed. Talia Hale lost her husband and nearly her son. And I am bleeding to my own demise in the middle of the floor. I don't know what's going to happen with you. I don't even know if you're going to be alive. But I wanted to say that I'm sorry. I didn't protect you or your mother or the Hale pack hard enough.

For reason, I feel like Claudia sensed that this was coming. She had made this huge garden a little ways away from the Hale house. It's big and it's beautiful. You should see it, kid. You'd have a trip in there. But I had built them something as well, a little cottage for them to enjoy. It was nothing really, I just needed to get my mind off of this weird feeling; dread. I guess I had a feeling that this was going to happen too.

That none of us would make it out alive. And I was right. Claudia is dead. Talia's husband is dead. You're gone. I'm dying. So really, what could a dying Sheriff say here? If I could apologize over and over, I'd write a song. I'd fucking write it in the sky for god's sake. Everything that has happened is my fault. It's my fault and mine alone. I got everyone killed. I'm the reason why you're about to be orphaned.

I don't have much strength left. I can barely hold the pen up.

I love you. I love you so much. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry.

The last entry page had smeared blood on it―his father's blood.

Slowly, Stiles shut the notebook with numb, shaky fingers. He couldn't feel himself crying but he knew he was downright sobbing at this point. Stiles had found himself stumbling through the door of the Hale house, barely able to keep himself upright and with the amount of emotions he was giving off―it was no wonder the entire pack was in front of him within seconds. Stiles had dropped the notebook just before he was engulfed into Derek's arms. There was a loud ringing in his ears and everything sounded like he was underwater. He was hyperventilating before he knew it and he could see Derek frantically trying to talk to him above him just seconds as after Stiles' knees gave out. But Stiles couldn't calm down. He couldn't subside the sorrow, the panic, the anxiety, like he normally could. And as Laura bent down to slowly pick up the notebook with hesitant hands, sharing apprehensive looks with Talia, Stiles finally let the darkness wrap itself around him.

Chapter Text

It took a while for Stiles to calm down from hysterics. Whether it was his biggest anxiety or panic attack, he knew it was his biggest meltdown.

Cora and Laura had tried to regulate Stiles' breathing but he didn't listen to them, couldn't focus on them. Talia was standing the background behind all of them, eyebrows knitting together and eyes fill with tears as she read through the journal he had found. Peter was beside his sister looking remorseful as he occasionally glanced at Stiles, Talia, and the journal. The pups were standing nearby looking anxious, not knowing what's going on or what they could do to help. Julie, Veronica, Damien, Ian, and Dan were trying to calm down some of the crying pups. Erica was seated in front of Stiles, holding his face in her hands as she tried to get Stiles to focus on something―whether it'd be the sound of her voice or not. Isaac was at his side, holding him in a firm side hug while Boyd was behind him trying to calm him by stroking his back. Derek was at his other side, holding Stiles' hand in both of his and looking torn, looking confused, looking broken.

But Stiles eventually calmed down. He was still distraught though and wouldn't mutter a single word as he buried himself into Isaac's chest to sob. The beta holding him tightened his arms around him then looked up at Talia, confused eyes wide and demanding answers. Talia remained silent as she slowly shut the journal and tilted her head in the direction of the staircase. Getting her message and with Derek's help, they were able to get Stiles to his feet. Stiles made it 5 steps toward the staircase before his knees gave out. Derek caught him by swooping down, sliding his arm underneath Stiles' knees and picking him him bridal saddle. Isaac guided Derek to Stiles' room and held the door open for him. Derek placed Stiles carefully on to the bed, like he was fragile porcelain, and sighed softly.

"What happened? What did you show him?" Isaac murmured softly as he watched Stiles stir in his sleep. When his knees gave out, he must have passed out.

Derek let his eyes linger on Stiles' tear-stained face. "Everything." He responded, turning his head to look at his beta. "I showed him everything." Isaac's eyes widened a little and he opened his mouth to say something. "He deserves to know. It's what they were hiding from him."

"So... you took him to... her garden and the... the cottage?" Isaac asked slowly. Derek nodded stiffly. "The journal... it was his father's wasn't it?" Derek nodded again, but slowly. "Damn... now what?"

"We give him some space. It's a lot to take in." Derek whispered. He nodded at Isaac then turned and left the room. The beta lingered for a moment, eyes studying the framed photo sitting on Stiles' dresser before he exhaled then followed his alpha out of the room. When they made it back into the living room, it was silent. A tense silent as Talia stood by the window, gripping the journal tightly in her hands. It was several moments before she was the one to break the silence.

"Did you tell him everything?" She asked.

"No." Derek answered. "I didn't... I didn't tell him anything. I wanted him to figure it all out on his own. I don't think he really knows why it all had happened but... he knows the truth about his parent's death."

"That Kate did it with Gerard's orders." Talia stated. Her son slowly nodded and lowered his gaze. "...This was bound to happen. He would have found the garden, he would have found the cottage by himself with given time."

Peter sighed. "He's not going to take this well. He's going to be distraught. I'm not entirely sure how I can handle distraught."

Derek shot his uncle a look. "He's with us now, uncle. Start taking a little responsibility over the situation." He criticized. Peter rolled his eyes a little and put his hands on his hips. "He will be distraught.. He will be confused.. So we just need to be there for him. But right now, we need to focus on something else." Talia turned around as she heard the familiar sound of an ultrasonic emitter. She frowned as Derek held one held.

"They're coming." She whispered.

The alpha nodded solemnly. "Yeah... I have a feeling it'll be soon. So we need to get ready. We need a plan. We especially need a place to hide the pups so they don't get hurt." He stabbed the emitter into the wooden table and exhaled. "I'm not sure who put it there, whether it'd be Gerard or another hunting group but we haven't had one of these placed on our property for years. Which means it can't be good."

"When was the last time you seen one of these?" Erica asked as she studied the emitter. Derek fell silent and he raised his eyes to look up at his mother, who sighed quietly and set the journal down on to the counter.

"The last time we saw one of these," she began as she joined Erica's side. "was years ago. The night of when Stiles' parents were murdered along with my husband."

"The night where I lost my alpha spark to save Cora's life." Laura added.

"The night where we lost our father." Cora choked, her hand reaching up to cover her mouth. "The night where we nearly lost... everything." Laura glanced over at her younger sister, frowned, and enveloped her into a tight hug. Talia put her hands on the table as she stared at the emitter.

"So... what do we do then?" Boyd asked hesitantly. "Do we run...?"

Talia straightened and whirled around, eyes blood red. "No!" She shouted. "No. No―I'm done running. I'm done hiding." She inhaled deeply through her nose and shook her head slightly, disappointed in herself. "I ran and I caused an innocent boy to be orphaned... I ran and I nearly got everyone here killed. I am done running and I am done hiding. So we fight. We remind the hunters just who they're dealing with. This is our territory. Our family, our home. They're trespassing and they think they can come on to our territory and threaten our family?! No. No I will kill every single one of them if they lay a hand on any of you." She paused briefly and looked up at the staircase. "I will slaughter all of them if they even try to put a hand on that boy. I made a promise to Claudia... I promised her that I'd protect him and I failed. I failed by fleeing that night, by listening to their shouts for us to get out of there when I could have stayed. I could have stayed, I could have helped, I could have saved them. I could have saved all of them. So I owe her this. I owe her at least the security of my home, of my love, of my family. I owe her this."

When they all straightened, stirred by her speech, and nodded firmly in agreement, they had failed to notice the presence of Stiles sitting down on a step of the stairs. He had his head hung a little as he ran his thumb along the badge that he had in his pocket before he lifted his head to look up at them, tears still water-falling down his cheeks. Slowly, he put his hand on the railing and got to his feet, making his way back up the stairs and into his room. Stiles grabbed his phone and dialed a number before pressing the device against his ear. It barely rung two times before the person answered the phone.

"Stiles?"

"Hey." Stiles let out a shaky breathe. "We need to talk."

After hanging up, Stiles smoothed his appearance and dried his tears. He put the badge into his pocket and made his way downstairs. Erica and Boyd were currently curled up on the couch watching TV with Isaac and the pups. He didn't see Julie, Veronica, Damien, Ian, or Dan so they must be elsewhere in the house. As he walked forward a little further, he could see Talia and Peter talking quietly in the kitchen with their backs at him. So he moved forward to grab the journal on the counter behind them and turned around towards the front door only to freeze at the sight of the ultrasonic emitter sticking into the wooden table.

"Are you going somewhere?" Derek asked softly. Stiles couldn't help but jump a little as he spun around.

"Jesus―you need to stop doing that." He hissed through gritted teeth.

Derek seemed mildly amused. "Sorry."

"But, yes, I'm going somewhere." Stiles sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I just.. I need to be alone for a little while if that's okay."

"Okay. Okay, I understand that. Just," Derek stepped forward and lightly touched his shoulder. "Don't go far or stay out long, okay? I found a couple of those on our property earlier. I don't know when the hunters are coming but.."

Stiles smiled softly at him and grabbed the hand that was on his shoulder. "I won't be gone long, don't worry. 30 minutes at most, alright? If I'm not back by then, then you can come find me." He compromised. Derek seemed pleased by this so he nodded softly. Stiles showed him another small smile before he turned and walked out of the house. He made his way through the preserve, weaving his way through the trees and heading on to the main trail that leads all the way to the entrance of the preserve. When he got there, there was already a blue car sitting in the parking lot waiting for him. Just as he noticed the car, the doors immediately opened and two people launched out of it. Tears flooded Stiles' eyes before he could stop them and he cried, sobbed, as he held he held Allison in his arms.

"I'm so glad you're alright." She wept into his shoulder. "I'm so, so glad. I was so worried about you―we both were. We weren't sure if you had made it through the full moon."

With the sudden reminder that he hadn't called Gerard yet, he'll try to remember to call him later but right now, he needs to talk to his friends.

"I know... I know. I was worried I wouldn't make it. But they taught me to control it." Stiles sniffled and let go of her. "They've been... really kind to me." He turned his head to look at Scott, who was looking as if he was barely holding it together.

"Stiles." He whimpered. The said male softened at the sight of his emotionally distraught friend―brother―and wrapped his arms around Scott's neck, hugging him the tightest he could manage; and Scott held him just as tight, sobbing into his shoulder.

"I missed you. I missed you so fucking much." Scott muttered against his shoulder, curling his fists into Stiles' jacket.

"I missed you too. I missed you too, buddy." Stiles replied and clutched onto Scott like he was a lifeline. Scott pulled away from the hug and pressed their foreheads together, hand cupping the back of Stiles' head. They just stared at each other in relieved silence before Scott lifted his head to press a kiss against Stiles' forehead, wrapped his arms back around Stiles and lifted him a good few inches off of the ground as he hugged him tightly once again.

Stiles pulled his head away from Scott's chest after a while. "There's―there's so much I need to tell you. I would show you all of it right now but I don't think it's safe, for you at least." He panted as he leaned against Scott's front. Scott, who allowed his friend to seek comfort in him, leaned back against the car with his arms around Stiles' waist. Allison was beside him, holding Stiles' hand in both of hers. "We uh.. we found ultrasonic emitters on the property and I'm not sure if they're looking around the preserve to find more or not, but.. I don't wanna take you guys in there just yet. They might just attack you on sight, but, uh.. uh.. Derek, uh.. he showed me things. He.. he showed me a garden a-and a cottage.." His friends were patient, looking at him with worried eyes, but they remained silent to let him talk. "The garden was uh.. left by my mother. She left.. she planted so many f-flowers and each one of them h-had a meaning to them.. I researched them f-for hours to find every one of their meaning.. a-and uh.. I feel like she planted t-them as a message.. to me! A message to me, okay? She planted the garden as a message a-and uh.. my dad―he built the cottage on the property, too. He didn't leave that as a message but he.. h-he did leave something else as a message for me." Stiles reached into his pocket and pulled out the Sheriff's badge. "Turned out my dad.. was the Sheriff of Beacon Hills. Cool, right..? My dad.. a cop." He laughed a little before extending the journal forward. "T-This was his journal.. he―he wrote entries in them." Allison took the journal and opened it, allowing Scott to peek a little as she began it. Stiles watched their expressions turned from guarded confusion to shocked horror.

"Oh my god..." Allison gasped, hand flying up to cover her mouth. "Your... Your parents..."

"Weren't murdered by the Hales." Stiles finished with a bitter smile. "They were killed by an Argent. Kate Argent."

Allison frowned and ran her fingers through her hair before looking at Stiles with a guilty expression. "Kate.. Kate is my aunt, Stiles. My dad's sister.. But that's not the only thing, uh.." She slowly closed the book and sniffled, rubbing her nose a little. "She's uh.. she's here, Stiles." Stiles froze, his eyes widened.

"It's true." Scott whispered. "She just arrived earlier this morning, probably last night actually. She's been in Gerard's study all day though." Stiles let out a shaky breathe and pressed a hand to his forehead.

"She's the one who put the ultrasonic emitters on the property?" He asked. Scott shrugged, eyebrows furrowed to a point.

"She might have. I mean.. I don't think she plans on doing anything any time soon but.. maybe it's a message." Allison suggested warily. "Maybe she's.. trying to let everyone know that she's back."

"But why the Hale pack?" Stiles pondered. "Why is she targeting the Hales?"

Scott shook his head. "I don't know, Stiles. We don't really know the history behind all of this. But you have the chance to find out. So ask about it, about why it all had happened. Maybe then you'd find more closure." He encouraged, rubbing Stiles' back. Stiles nodded softly in agreement. "But right now... with the thing about your father and the journal... is that what really happened?"

"I don't want to believe it happened." Stiles sobbed softly. "I don't, really.. Gerard raised me, Scott. He raised me and told me a whole bunch of things, things about what had happened with my parents. And I believed it all for several years b-but now... now this?! Was my entire life a big fat lie? I-I don't.. I don't know what to believe. I don't know what to do!" Scott scowled and hugged Stiles to his chest, burying his nose into the werewolf's hair.

"I know, bud. I know it's all really confusing and it's troublesome but you need answers. You need answers. You deserve the truth, okay? And I believe.. fuck, I can't believe I'm actually saying―I believe you can find the answers here." He advised with a sigh. Stiles lifted his head to look up at him with confusion written in his eyes. "Gerard has been.. acting a little fishy lately. I don't know exactly why but.. I overheard a conversation last night from one of the guard's. Supposedly someone has been sending Gerard letters in the mail. Some anonymous sender is sending Gerard threats... and they're mentioning you, Stiles. But it's not like―it's not the type of threat where they're like saying they will kill you or anything. They're saying things like.. if they hurt you, then there will be chaos."

"We don't think it's anyone from the Hale pack." Allison defused when Stiles opened his mouth. "I snuck into Gerard's officer before we came here and I saw one of the letters. There was some type of insignia on the bottom of the letter. It was like a stamp or something. It had the initials of J.S and an image of an eagle or something behind it."

"J.S?" Stiles snorted a little. "Who the hell is J.S?"

Allison shrugged numbly. "We don't know." She sighed. "But Scott is right, Stiles. There is something up and we all know it. Your mother leaving a garden as a message to you? Your father building the cottage and leaving things for you? They're breadcrumbs, Stiles. Your parents wanted to lead you to something, whether it'd be the truth or closure. It might just be both. But this," she held up the journal. "is not a coincidence. You need to find out what happened between the Hales and the Argents. If and when you know the truth behind that, then I think we can figure out what to do next." Stiles nodded softly and gave his friends one last hug before he watched them drive away. He looked down at the journal and the badge, biting down on to his bottom lip as Allison's words echoed in his head.

When he made it back to the Hale house, he was panting a little as he stared at all of them before his eyes landed on Talia.

"Tell me what happened between the Argents and the Hales." He demanded. Talia seemed reluctant and she glanced over at Peter, who looked like he was about to tell her not to before he looked at Stiles then sighed.

"Well," Peter spoke and gestured to the free spot on the couch beside Derek. "better sit down then. It's a long story."


"Stiles. I was expecting to hear from you a while ago. I thought I told you to call me in the morning."

"I know, I know. I got sidetracked." Stiles replied, voice a little rushed. "But I need to ask you something."

"Well, since you survived your first full moon, I suppose." Gerard sighed. "What is it that you ask, son?"

"...When were you going to tell me about Kate Argent?"

The line fell silent.

"Did you hope I wouldn't find out?"

"I was hoping that you wouldn't go to such lengths to find out. But, son, why are you asking about Kate Argent?"

Stiles shook his head and began to pace in place. "Because, I.. I found something, okay? I found a journal. My father's journal. He wrote in it that you ordered Kate to hunt and kill the Hale pack, right? And that my parents supposedly sheltered them when I was only a few days old. And you guys had found out and you had ordered Kate to kill my family, alright? My family―Kate killed my family under your orders."

"Stiles―"

"―Is is true?!" He shouted into his phone. "Is it true?!"

"Stiles." Gerard spoke in a firmer tone. "Are you really going to believe a journal over me? A journal that one of them could have easily wrote and left for you? This could all be a trap, Stiles. They could be the ones lying to you to deter you from us."

"But is it true?"

"Yes and no!" Gerard shouted. "Kate is... We found out that your parents had sheltered the Hale pack, yes. I had sent Kate to investigate not to kill. She killed on her own free will―that I had no control over. She came back to the institute with the infant, with you, in her arms, and claimed that the Hale pack had killed your parents and left you to die. Do you get it, Stiles? They're not on your side! We are! I am! I sheltered you. I gave you a home. I gave you food and clothes and a meaning to your life. I raised you like a son. I took you under my wing and trained you to defend yourself against all evil. And if you're honestly going to believe them over me, then I know where you loyalty stands."

"No, no." Stiles breathes and runs his fingers through his hair. "I-It's just.. this is all just so confusing.. I don't know what to do, what to believe. I don't know who to trust anymore."

"You can trust me, Stiles. You can believe me when I say that I wasn't the one who ordered the murders of your family."

If only Stiles was there in person to hear his heartbeat. "Okay... Okay, I... I believe you." Stiles whispered and plopped down on to his bed. "S-Sorry, I just.. this is all just.."

"I know, I know, son. But they're just trying to turn you against us." There was a pause on the other end and Stiles could another voice talking to him. "Well, I gotta go, son. Expect a call within the next couple of days, okay? We believe we have an opening for the attack."

Stiles frowned. He forgot about his mission, about the real reason why he was here. "...Right, yeah. Yeah." He replied. Gerard bid farewell before hanging up. Stiles slowly lowered his phone and let out a breathe. He put his phone down and rubbed his face with frustrated hands before he got to his feet. Stiles slowly made his way out of his room and down the stairs, eyes searching for one sole person before he found the male sitting on the couch talking to Isaac, Boyd, and Erica.

"Derek?" Stiles called out softly. The alpha raised his head and looked up at him. "Can we... can we talk?" Derek seemed a little apprehensive before he nodded then got to his feet. "At the uh.. at the cottage, though. It's kinda private." Derek nodded and glanced over at his betas before leading Stiles out of the house and into the forest. The sun had set an hour or so ago and the moon was barely in the sky, peeking slightly through a couple of clouds as stars dotted along the sky.

"What did you want to talk about?" Derek asked as they walked along the small, wooden dock that was connected to the pond. Stiles sat down on the dock, taking off his shoes, socks, then rolling up his pant legs.

"So.. everything that happened.. actually happened?" Stiles questioned after a beat of silence. He dipped his legs into the cool water and it made him shiver a little before he relaxed. Derek sighed as he sat down beside him, close enough that their shoulders bumped.

"Yeah." He replied slowly. "I, uh.. I was young when it had happened, when I had met Kate. Turned out she wasn't just a bitch, she was a psychotic bitch. She and my Uncle Peter kind of have a fling going on. It was good at first; she was nice to everyone, very accepting over our nature and seemed to find everything about us fascinating. They were dating for a couple of months before things took a down-turn and he real nature began to show. She lit our house on fire but we were able to flee to safety and luckily, none of us were hurt. But she tracked us and we had to split up. My sisters went with Uncle Peter. Veronica and the others went out of state. And I went with my parents to the Stilinski's house." He turned his head to look at Stiles, discovering that the beta was already looking at him. "And that's when I met you, Stiles. Just a 3 month of infant that's got his entire life ahead of him. But Kate showed up the next day, being the psychotic bitch she is, and killed your mother. My father rushed forward to defend my mother, to defend me and your father. But he was killed with a wolfsbane bullet to the forehead... Your father managed to pull the gun at 3 hunters, downing them easily but Kate shot him 3 times in the chest before he could even land a bullet in her. With his last breathe, he told me and my mother to run. To run and never look back. So my mother picked me up into her arms.. and ran. When we all reunited, I had realized that I was still covered in your mother's blood. You see, the bullets were aimed for me when your mother dove in front of me, shielding me from the bullets... It took hours for me to stop shaking." Derek bites down on his bottom lip. "Years later, I had no idea that they had took you. I didn't even know you were alive until I found you in the woods and you said your last name was Stilinski. None of us knew you were still alive."

"That explains why you all looked like you saw a ghost." Stiles chuckled.

Derek smiled a little and nodded. "Yeah, pretty much. We didn't really know how to react." Derek leaned back on his hands a little and looked up at the sky. "But I feel like this isn't a coincidence."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, like you showing up with the bite." Derek hummed. "I mean, yeah, you had gotten bitten and kicked out of the institute. But you came looking for us, for the Hales." He turned his head to look at him. "That wasn't a coincidence, was it?"

Stiles shifted a little and lowered his head. "Yeah... Yeah it wasn't." He murmured, eyebrows furrowing. If only you knew.

"It's like you were drawn here, weren't you?" Derek continued. "I mean.. I know you didn't want to die. You're a fighter, Stiles. So you came to us for help, to seek control and to learn." He paused briefly then added in a much softer tone, "You were meant to be here."

The beta turned his head to look at Derek. "You think so?" He replied softly. Derek nodded with a small smile, eyes darting between Stiles'. "I was meant to be here... with you?"

"Maybe. All of this isn't a coincidence." Derek licked his lips and shifted forward a little. "Have you heard of imprinting?" At Stiles' confused look, he continued. "Well, I'm pretty sure you've seen Twilight, right?"

Stiles barked out a laugh. "I swear, if a vampire jumps out and fucking sparkles, I might just loose faith in all that's good."

"No, no, hear me out." Derek laughed and nudged their shoulders together. "Remember when Jacob had imprinted on Bella's newborn daughter? That's basically what I did, what I had went through." Stiles looked up at Derek and noticed he was a little closer. "I had.. I imprinted you, Stiles. That's why I was so fascinated over you when we first met."

"I'm not entirely sure if I should be flattered or creeped out."

Derek snorted and lightly smacked his head. "I'm trying to be sentimental here!" He complained. The beta laughed and rubbed the spot where Derek smacked him.

"So basically," Stiles hummed and squinted his eyes at the alpha. "I'm your soulmate?"

"More than just that." Derek persisted. "You're more than just my soulmate, Stiles. You're my mate. My true mate." The alpha hesitated for a moment before he reached up to cup Stiles' cheek in his hand. "It's like.. it's like something was telling me that we would meet again, under different circumstances and I just.. I found myself waiting for you to return, to find your way back to me on your own." Expect I wasn't on my own. "And you did. And you're even more beautiful than I could've imagined." Stiles stared into Derek's eyes and smiled softly at him.

"You're such a sap." He teased. Derek chuckled and removed his hand from Stiles' cheek and instead took one of Stiles' hands to thread their fingers together.

"Believe it or not, but underneath all this Grumpy Eyebrows, I am a romantic." He teased back and Stiles couldn't help but laugh. And as Derek watched him laugh, giving his hand a squeeze before bringing their locked hands together to press a kiss against Stiles' knuckles, Stiles knew. Stiles knew right then and there that things needed to change, that things were about to change, that things were already changing. Derek had claimed that Stiles was his true mate, that he had imprinted on Stiles the second they met all those years ago. But Derek didn't know. He thought that this was all coincidence, that this was fate pulling them back together. That Stiles was meant to get the bite, that he was meant to be here with him, that he naturally sought out the Hales out for help. But he couldn't be so wrong. Even then, Stiles was conflicted. Gerard was clearly hiding something from him and even his friends had that hunch for a couple of days now. With the mysterious letters Gerard's been getting in the mail, the anonymous sender, the badge, the journal, the cottage, the garden―it was all a breadcrumb trail. Breadcrumbs that Stiles has been picking up and examining before finding the next one.

And as he sat there hand in hand with Derek, laughing as Derek tried to shoo a stubborn dragonfly away, he realized a couple of things. Maybe he was meant to be here. Maybe he was meant to get the bite in order to be here, in order to find those breadcrumbs. Maybe this was fate, maybe this was all meant to be happen and it was all laid out on the table. But most of all (Derek turned his head to look over at Stiles, who was laughing so hard he was about to tip into the water), Stiles realized something more unsettling (he lightly yanked on their joined hands and tugged Stiles closer, preventing him from falling into the water before pressing a kiss to Stiles' forehead). He had feelings for the man sitting next to him. Feelings that was causing him to question himself, to question his motives, to question everything. Feelings that Stiles didn't even know he still had, that he promised to bury deep into his heart along with the longing memory of his parents.

He was trained to be a killer, a warrior. He was trained to protect himself against werewolves, to kill werewolves. He was trained to be a warrior, a soldier; someone who strikes fear into those who dare to cross his path. But, growing up, Stiles began to wonder what it's like to be―normal. To be himself and not be some thing someone wanted him to be. He wanted to go to actual school instead of getting home-schooled. He wanted to have friends (he does have friends, Scott and Allison, but it's different for Stiles) and go to sleepovers, go bowling, sneak out at night, be a teenager. He wanted to go have fun, to run around and laugh without worry or without consequence.

He wanted to be free.

But maybe he never will be.

"Do you know what tomorrow is?" Derek asked softly as they made their way back to the house.

"Uh, Friday?" Stiles replied.

Derek scoffed. "No―I mean, yeah―ugh, you're an idiot." He groaned. Stiles snickered, finding amusement in making Derek confused. "Anyways, tomorrow.. It's uh.. your mother's birthday." Stiles pauses briefly and frowns down at the ground. "I was.. I was thinking we could do something special. Her garden―I was wondering if you wanted to plant a flower in her garden with me."

"A flower?" Stiles echoed then raised his head to look up at the alpha. "Why plant a flower?"

"Well, I have a feeling that you feel more connected to her in her garden. So if you add a little touch to it yourself, I feel like.. I feel like she'll know that you heard her, ya know? That you got her message." Derek explained and waited until Stiles entered the house before he walked in behind him, shutting and locking the door. "I went to the nearest market and found a flower that I thought was.. suitable for the occasion."

"What kind of flower did you pick?" Stiles asked. His eyes followed Derek as the male went into the kitchen and pulled out a small bag, reaching into it to grab a small pack of flower seeds. Derek glanced up at Stiles and silently handed him the packet. A small smile formed on Stiles' lips unconsciously as he read the name of the flower.

Forget-Me-Not.

"Yeah... Yeah, these are perfect."


"You called for us?" Scott spoke as he entered the office, Allison in tow behind him. Gerard glanced up from his paperwork and nodded at one of the guards that was standing beside the door. The guard nodded back and walked out of the room while shutting the door behind him.

"Yes, I did." Gerard hummed low and put his pen down, leaning back in his chair. "I was curious if you had heard from Stiles lately."

"Yeah, he called us earlier." Allison lied. "He said everything's going smoothly. Have you heard from him?"

Gerard nodded slowly, eyes studying the couple in front of him. "Yes, he did. Though he called later than I told him to." He sighed quietly and got to his feet. "Is that all he said?"

Scott shared a look with Allison before he looked back up at the Argent. "Yeah? Unless he told you something different." He replied cautiously.

"He did. He actually was bold enough to accuse me of ordering Kate to kill his family." Gerard drawled lazily as he studied a few frame photos; photos of his son (Allison's father) and daughter (Kate), of Allison as a child, of Allison, her mother and Chris. "I was a little surprised, actually. Stiles claimed that he had found his father's journal and that the journal said that they had sheltered the Hale family. That I had ordered Kate to kill them for doing so. That Kate had kidnapped him as an infant."

"That sounds absurd." Allison spat. Scott couldn't help but feel a little proud; Allison was playing her part well and it was seemingly good enough because Gerard seemed pleased at their reactions.

"Yes, I agree. We all know you wouldn't do that. It was the Hales that killed his family, not the other way around." Scott agreed, stuffing his hands into his pockets nonchalantly. "It seems as if the Hales are trying to twist into his mind to make him turn against us."

Gerard hummed in acknowledgement. "I completely agree with that, Scott." He grinned and made his way back to his chair. "But it makes me wonder why he would lie to his friends and say everything was 'running smoothly' while he turned to me and blamed me for something I didn't do."

"Maybe he wanted to make sure it wasn't true first before he spewed nonsense." Scott considered. "You know Stiles; he's gotta figure out the truth before he goes to really say things about something."

The Argent considered Scott's words and nodded, lifting his hand in dismissal. "I've known Stiles for years. I guess I shouldn't have been so offended. I'm glad he called me to personally ask instead of letting the Hales twist their way into his mind. He's too smart for that, too smart to be fooled so easily. But, yes, that is all―oh, before I forget. We are almost done with preparations. We estimate another couple of days before we attack. So you both better train until you get word from me, alright?" They both nodded and left the room with another wave of Gerard's hand. The male let out an exhale and leaned back in his chair, eyes squinting a little as he thought to himself. Gerard then leaned forward in order to open the top right drawer of his desk and pull out the newest letter from the anonymous sender. He began to re-read it for the umpteenth time.

 

 

Dear Gerard,

If you think I wouldn't have found out, you're mistaken. I know what you are. I know what you did. And I know what you will do. I know what's happened to Stiles. I know what you've done to him. And I know what you've made of him.

And I will not let this continue.

If you think you'll be getting away with murder, with everything that you've done, you're also wrong. You and Kate have another thing coming. Trust me, you won't see me coming. But when I do, I will avenge those who died from your hands. I will avenge everyone and most of all, I will avenge Stiles.

You will rue the day you've dared hurt the ones I love. That I promise you.

J.S.

With an angry scowl, Gerard crumbled the letter into a ball and threw it into the trash bin.

"Is that the newest hate mail you've received?" Kate chuckled as she sauntered her way into his office, her long wavy blonde hair flowing behind her. "How many have you gotten? Like 50?"

"23." Gerard corrected and leaned his elbows on his desk. "I can see that you're plotting something, Kate. Do tell me what you want to do."

"I want to launch an attack." She purred, tilting her head up a little with a small smirk. "I want to kill, Gerard, you know that."

He grinned and nodded in approval. "I know that very well. We have very similar mindsets. What do you plan on attacking and when?" He asked then leaned back in his chair.

"How about a little sneak peak before the real show?" She laughed. "Do you think that would be fun? I've been thinking about pulling a few bullets in Derek's forehead for a while now. But I wonder how far you'd let me go; with the kid being there and all."

Gerard rolled his jaw a little and hummed in thought. "He knows too much. I was hoping Stiles would've never found out." He tsked with a disappointed shake of his head. "He's disappointed me. I supposed your little surprise attack could be a message; to remind him where his loyalty stand, what his mission is, and why he's there. Why you should never dig up a grave."

With that, Kate walked down the hall with a small, victorious smirk on her face and dark glint in her eye.


"Have you found anything yet?" Scott exhaled and rubbed his hands against his face, trying to wake himself up. They had been sitting in front of their laptop for hours, munching junk food here and there and only getting up to use the restroom.

"I have, actually." She beamed, face blooming with a smile despite her tired eyes. Scott immediately got up to his feet and joined her side. "I've found out a few things, though I'm not sure if it's useful." Scott scanned his eyes along the screen to see what she found. "This is what his parents looked like? This is really Claudia and his father, John?" She nodded quickly and looked at the picture that was shown on the screen. Claudia was being back-hugged by a man named John and both were smiling wide at the camera.

"This photo was taken on their honeymoon, just a few weeks before Claudia discovered that she was pregnant with Stiles." She informed. Scott hummed a little and nodded.

"Good find. We actually got faces to work with names now." He complimented before returning back to his desk. But suddenly he froze. "Wait. Wait a minute―hold. The fuck. Up." He zoomed back over to her laptop and scrolled down a little, eyes wide as he read the information. Allison was looking back and forth between him and the screen in bewilderment. Scott leaned away from her laptop and opened a folder, fishing through the papers that they had kept and stacked away inside of it.

"What?" Allison called out slowly. "What did you find?"

"His name is John Stilinski, right?" Scott grumbled as he continued searching through the papers. Allison nodded slowly, still confused as she watched Scott apparently find what he was looking for. She leaned forward to take a peak of the paper that Scott plopped down on to the keyboard of her laptop. It was a copy of the letter that she had made earlier.

"The initials, Allison. The initials are J.S." He breathed. "John Stilinski."

Her eyes widened, lips parting in shock. "No way." She gaped. "That's... That's impossible, Scott! He's dead!"

"No, but look. Look!" Scott dug through the file again and it took him another moment to find the paper he was looking for. "The eagle behind the initials, okay? Check this out." He plopped the paper down on top of the photo-copied letter. She gasped and quickly separated the two papers to study the image of the initials and the other paper, which was an image of the pendant that Stiles wears―that Stiles claimed was his father's.

"It's the same exact image of the eagle. It's a symbol for John's role the military but it's also the heirloom for the Sealgairs." Scott pointed out. "This is not a coincidence, Allison." They both fell silent for several moments, trying their best to wrap their heads around all of it. Allison slowly put the papers down and leaned back in her chair, eyes wide and mouth open. She slowly looked up at her boyfriend and her bottom lip trembled, eyebrows furrowing as tears sparkled in her eyes.

"Scott," she whimpered. "do you know what this means?" Scott nodded, uneasy and just as troubled as she is. "...Stiles' father... He's alive."

Chapter Text

Everything was suffocating him, all at once. The truth about his parents, the truth about the Hale pack, the truth about Kate and Gerard—the truth about own existence—with the bonus of falling in love with the person he's supposed to hate. What a time to be alive.

It all had just crumbled down around him and he needed to be alone, he needed to be away from everyone. So he locked himself in his room and paced around for hours (probably days, he lost count); he wouldn't be surprised if there was marks in the floorboards in result. Occasionally, he would hear a knock on the door but all he would be able to croak out is a simple request to be left alone. He felt like he couldn't even look them in the eye. He felt like he couldn't even look at himself in the mirror. But after several hours and several panic attacks, he pulled out his phone to dial the number of the one sole person whom he knew he could trust.

"Scott, I mean it. I just... I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I don't know what I'm supposed to do." Stiles couldn't even recognize his own voice. It was so scratchy—like he swallowed glass—and he was gasping for breathe, still, and stuttering.

"Yeah, this is all so messed up." Scott replied. He sounded so defeated, so lost.

"What are you going to do?" Allison murmured. Of course she was with Scott, when is she not?

"I don't know. I-I don't know." Stiles exhaled and ran his fingers through his hair. "But I can't... Guys, I can't let them die! I don't.. I-I don't think I can do this anymore. I don't think I can do it."

"Stiles, I understand, trust me." Scott reassured. "But what are we going to do? It's not easy; if you decide to flee or let them leave, Gerard will come after you. And I don't think there will be anything we can do to stop him, especially with Kate at his hip."

Stiles inhaled through his nose. "I know, I know. I'll—I'll figure that part out soon. Right now, I just... God, this is so fucked up—I need to tell them, Scott. I need to tell them—I—I need to tell them!"

"Stiles, no!" Allison quickly exclaimed. "You can't! They could kill you themselves when you do! At least let us figure out a plan before you tell them!"

"I don't care!" Stiles raised his voice a little, hands shaking with desperation. "I don't care if they kill me! It's—it's the least I deserve, okay?! But they're coming, do you not get that?! We have a rogue group of hunters on our asses that keep leaving ultrasonic emitters all over the property and now we've got Kate in town all with the addition of Gerard giving me the mission to kill their pack alpha! If I don't tell them, what do you think will happen?! A massacre. A slaughter. Death! Lots of death, lots of killing. And I can't.. I can't just sit here and live with that, Scott. I can't sit here and live with the fact that I led 18 innocent people to their deaths! 4 of which, in case you didn't know, are barely 7 years old with the last one about to be birthed into the world any day now!"

"Stiles—"

"No." He cut in and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm going to tell them. I'm not going to let any of them die. I don't care whether you're going to have my back or not—"

"—There's no way in hell we'll just abandon you." Scott hissed. Stiles couldn't help but smile a little. "And there's no way we'll just leave you out there on your own. Of course we're going to have your back."

"That's what friends are for." Allison agreed.

"Brothers." Scott and Stiles said in unison.

"We're brothers. Not friends." Stiles continued with a small chuckle before he wiped his nose with his sleeve.

"We're brothers." Scott echoed. His voice tight and firm. "I'm not going to abandon my brother."

"Whatever you do, we got your back." Allison whispered. "Just... call us, okay? When you get a plan, when you think of something—call us. We don't know when Gerard plans on attacking, so you gotta think of something fast."

There was a brief pause. "Shit, I just remembered something!" Scott exclaimed. "I guess Gerard gave Kate permission to do a 'special task' or something. I saw her in the weaponry a little while ago talking to a group of hunters. She was telling them—something about showing no mercy, that she will do what she was originally set to do."

Stiles felt the air leave his lungs. "She still plans on killing them."

"And it doesn't look like she's going to hesitate when she sees you. In fact, you may be right - she could be the one leaving the emitters on the property." Allison sighed. "Stiles, you need to do something and you need to do it fast. I think they're leaving tonight or tomorrow morning, I'm not entirely sure."

The werewolf groaned and rubbed his face with his free hand while he began to pace back and forth once again. "Okay. Okay, well, fuck—that was one hell of a kick to the balls. Alright, I'll—I'll call you tonight, okay? In the meantime, try to figure out when Kate is leaving and if Gerard is up to anything. I'll do what I can with them. Maybe I can convince them to run and get out of here before everything goes south..."

"Good luck." Scott whispered.

"Yeah... Yeah, we'll need a lot of that."

Stiles hung up not too long after that and collapsed on to his bed. He buried his face into his hands and sobbed quietly into them. He didn't know how long he had cried but he soon willed himself to stop when his head pounded so hard, he felt like a bomb had exploded in it. Rubbing his temples to ease the excruciating pulses of pain, he groaned quietly and staggered to his feet as he heard a hesitant knock at his door.

"I know you guys are worried but, really... I just need to be alone." Stiles pleaded meekly. "Just for a little while longer."

"Open the door, Stiles." It was Peter. "Please just... open the door." Stiles was so used to Peter using a completely different tone to him. A very playful, almost predatory tone with a mischievous glint in his eye. But now, he was speaking with a soft, desperate voice—he was pleading, almost begging Stiles to open the door, to let him in. And it compelled Stiles to do just that.

Peter stood in the hallway, eyebrows scrunched together as he looked at Stiles with worried eyes and a small frown on his lips. He held in his hands a tray of food; delicious smelling and looking food. The older male watched the beta shift unsurely before he reached out to take the tray and walk away from the door, however leaving it open. Taking it as permission to come in, Peter glanced down the hallway to see Talia nod softly at him before disappearing quietly down the stairs before he walked slowly into Stiles' room.

"I'm not even going to bother asking if you're okay." Peter began as he shut the door behind him. "Because I'd be one hell of a moron if I assumed you were." Stiles snorted a little and glanced up at the male as he chewed on his cheeseburger. Peter let out a small sigh and sat down beside Stiles. "I know you're going through a lot right now, it's easy to see that. With the whole thing about Gerard and Kate and the truth... it's a lot to take in." Peter pauses briefly and reaches up to put his hand on Stiles' shoulder. "And I know about why you're here. About why you're really here."

Stiles choked. "What?" He sputtered. "How the—"

"I may or may not have been spying on your conversations when you're on the phone." Peter at least had the decency to look guilty. "But it was all without harm, I promise you. And no, before you ask, and I'm not mad at you. Well... not that mad. I'm more mad at the fact that they sent a boy here to do the dirty work. Gerard had no right to send you, who had just received the bite and had no control over anything, here to kill Talia. We would rip you to shreds in a heart beat." The alpha scoffed and shook his head before looking at Stiles, who was too busy gaping at him rather than eating the rest of his food. "Oh, don't look at me like that. Did you honestly think that none of us would find out?"

The beta swallowed thickly. "Well... I hoped that if you did, you'd kill me." At that, Peter's eyebrows shot up. "It's what I deserve, isn't it?" He squeaked out lamely.

Peter let out an amused ha! before he clamped his hand on Stiles' shoulder. "Stiles, you deserve a lot of things. But death is not one of them." He articulated. "At first, I was angry. I was in a fit of rage, I admit. I was about to rip you to shreds myself. But I observed first and I listened more. I listened to you beginning to doubt everything, I listened to you struggle with who you are and what they want you to be. I listened to you become more human than any werewolf could ever dream of, Stiles. I didn't tell anyone about my spying yet because I felt like I needed to get a grasp of everything going on. Of course, Talia thinks I'm only here right now to try to coax you out of your room and she's right; I am here to do that but I'm also here to let you know that I, along with your friends, will have your back no matter what." Stiles could feel the tears returning to his eyes as he looked between Peter's eyes, trying to search for any lie in them. But Peter merely smiled softly at him and fondly patted Stiles' head. "You're pack, Stiles. Remember that. However, you are right; they need to know. They all need to know. I will help you in any way possible and I won't tell them until you do. Right now, we could use your help."

"My help?" Stiles sniffled and frowned a little in confusion. "For what?"

"We've been knocking on your door for like nearly two days." Peter deadpanned. "I don't think you realize how long you've locked yourself in here. But that's besides the point, we have a huge problem." He alpha sighed and something in his eyes changed; the fondness that he had earlier hardened into anger. "A group of hunters had ambushed the pack yesterday..."

"No." Stiles whimpered softly and wanted to just curl up into a ball. "Oh god—no."

Peter's frown deepened and he nodded solemnly. "Ian died protecting Veronica while she returned to the house to get help. Ian managed to take down 2 of the hunters before he was shot with a silver bullet that was laced with wolfsbane... It reached his heart by the time we got there." He slides his arm across Stiles' shoulders as he heard the boy sob quietly. "Don't blame yourself for his death, Stiles. He died protecting the people that he loved. He died protecting his friends, protecting his pack. But do not let his death be in vein. We need a plan, Stiles. And we can't do it without you. You come up with really good ideas like it's nothing and right now, we're not exactly smart enough like you are. Now, will you pull yourself together just enough to come down and help us?"

After wiping his eyes with his sleeves, Stiles nodded firmly. "Of course I will." He muttered. Peter grinned at him and guided him downstairs, into the living-room. Everyone was gathered at the table, all too immersed in their debate to notice the two new additions in the room. They were all throwing in ideas on what they could do, some ideas being shot down by a good point that someone else threw out. Stiles watched quietly from the wall he was leaning on, finishing up the food that was on his plate.

"Well, why can't we just bait them like they keep baiting us?" Stiles spoke up while cutting off Cora. They all whipped their heads around in alarm and immediately straightened at the sight of Stiles. "I mean, it makes sense right?"

"Stiles." Derek breathed and walked around the table to approach him. "You look like you haven't slept in days."

"Because I haven't." Stiles chuckled and gently squeezed Derek's arm. "I'll be fine, though. I've been too... nerve-wrecked to sleep."

The alpha's frown deepened but he nodded anyways. "If you say so." He turned back to the others as he guided Stiles over to the table (Peter sent Stiles a knowing smirk when he noticed the spike in Stiles' heart-rate when Derek slipped his arm around his waist and Stiles wanted to smack his smug little smirk off his smug fucking face).

"That's a great idea." Talia seemed relieved and pleased that Stiles was here with them now. "So how do we bait them? So we take one of them?" She proposed.

But Stiles shook his head. "No, I highly doubt they would never come or even be threatened by that notion." He pauses briefly in thought and places his hands on the table. "Do you perhaps have any CCTV's on the property?" She nodded, a little perplexed. "Do you have an angle of the attack perhaps? If I can identify them, then I know what to do. I know all of the hunters, whether they're Argents or Sealgairs. So if they're from either of them, I'll be able to know their weaknesses. Everyone has a weakness and if we use their weakness against them, bait them in, and teach them a lesson meanwhile sending a message to Kate or whomever sent them, it'll show them that we're a force to be reckoned with." He declared. Talia's eyebrows shot up and she glanced at Derek, who seemed a little impressed, then back to Stiles.

"Alright. Then, follow me." She waved her hand and Stiles quickly followed in step beside her, the rest of the pack following from behind. "We ended up placing CCTV's all around the property a couple of days ago. We figured with the random ultrasonic emitters being placed on the property, an attack would be happening. We wanted to be prepared. But I do think we have an angle of the attack." She explained as she made her way down into the basement. As soon as Stiles took his foot off of the last step, he looked around the room. The room was huge and right in front of him was a single chair that was seated in front of a desk. On the desk sat a few keyboards and a mouse or two. However, on the wall in front of the desk was several TV screens that showed images of different places in the preserve. All of the TVs surrounded a larger one that was in the middle. On the walls to his sides were tons of shelves containing weapons of sorts, random boxes of herbs and medicines, and books.

Talia approached the desk, pushing the chair out of the way to begin typing away on the keyboard and soon, the TV in the middle showed an image. Stiles approached her side as she turned to look at him in questionable silence. It was a still image of 3 figures; one Ian with his back at the camera and the other two hunters. Stiles' eyes narrowed as he studied the image.

"Can you zoom in?" He asked. She nodded and pressed a few more buttons on the keyboard to zoom in on the faces of the hunters. It took a couple of seconds before recognition flitted into Stiles' eyes.

"I know who they are." He gasped and scrambled forward. Talia's eyes widened a little in alarm as she watched him print out the photo of the image before rushing upstairs. She looked at Derek before they all followed him upstairs and back into the living-room, where he stood at the table accessing the other papers that were laid out on the table.

"What is it?" Laura spoke as she went to his side. "Who are they?"

Stiles raised his head and nibbled on his bottom lip. "They're pretty much the weakest group in the Sealgairs. And at first, I wondered why the hell they even bothered." He wondered before lifting his hand to do vague hand motions. "But then I thought about it—really thought about it, ya know? Why send the weakest links out to do this kind of a job?"

"To test our strength?" Cora offered.

"To test their strength, to test our strength, to see whether we're prepared--to see what kind of a fight it'll be." Stiles made more hand motions then pointed to the printed photo of the hunters. "This one is Damien and this one is Joseph. They're snobbish, really over their heads and think they're above everyone but they're also major ass kissers. They really love to kill. It's like they even do it in their dreams, it's disturbing. Anyways, we all knew that they weren't exactly strong; they always blew right into attack mode without even so much of a plan. They solely relied on the guns in their hands and thought they were skilled enough to take down anyone. Hell, this is the first match that they've won! I think they sent both of them not as a message—well, maybe as a message—but more of a test."

"I see what you're getting at." Peter muttered as he braced himself on the table, eyes scanning the papers on the table. "They sent these tools to kill Ian as a message to us but as a test for them; they're testing the hunters to see if they could properly hunt and kill a werewolf. Give or take, 3 of them died, but they still succeeded."

"Okay, but now what? It just means that there's more nitwits out there that could possibly be better than them." Isaac pointed out.

Stiles narrowed his eyes. "Positivity just isn't in your vocabulary, is it?"

The other beta shot him a look. "My father locked me in a freezer for basically the entirety of my childhood. So helping out is still pretty much new to me."

"Guys." Erica groaned. "Isaac, stop milking the past. Focus."

"Sorry." Isaac shrugged. "It's just that I don't entirely see what we can do. Crazy Bitch Kate is making a come back and we don't stand a chance against her and her army." He muttered.

"Again, with the not helping. What is the point of him?" Stiles gestured to him as he looked over at Derek. "I've never met someone so negative. Well, besides you, Sourwolf."

Derek looked like he was ready to leap across the table and strangle him. "Stiles." He growled. Cora nudged Stiles, a small smirk on her lips, and motioned for him to continue despite the clear amusement in her eye. She really enjoyed seeing Derek reach his peek of patience when it came to Stiles and his smart mouth.

"Back to the point." Stiles laughed softly before clearing his throat. "My point is, they're weak and not strong enough to defend themselves when we're ready, alright? Joseph's weakness is his right knee, courtesy of moi." He did a small, mock bow. "I may or may not have accidentally fired an arrow at him and it may or may not have ran straight his knee. Accidentally. So, thanks to that, he walks with a clear limp. He basically has no nerves, so muscle left in his knee; one hit and he down and out for the count. Now when it comes to Damien, it's a little more complex. Like Isaac," he shot the other beta a look. "he's got some... unresolved childhood trauma." Isaac nodded in approval to Stiles' choice of words. "His father was abusive and all that jazz. So he has a lot of pent up anger, anger that he uses to kill werewolves. His father had killed his mother and his 4 year old sister and every time we mention that, he snaps. He gets an angry kind of shaky where he looses focus to what's at hand and he's then hell-bent to seek out whomever so-boldly mocked him by mentioning their deaths. He's a bit of a sensitive little bitch." Derek snorted a little. "Also, I know where they're hiding."

Even Boyd looked confused. "And how the hell do you know that? Are you psychic or something?" He exasperated.

"I don't need to be a psychic to be able to read how predictable these nimrods are." Stiles scoffed and folded his arms across his chest. "Like I said, they don't think about what they're doing; only in it for the kill. I guarantee you they're hiding out in a shitty motel just down the road from the preserve; not being real subtle 'n shit."

"Should we at least scope out the motel just to see if it's true?" Isaac asked. "We can't just lead a group of us into a place based off of a guess."

Stiles shot him a look. "Okay, Mr. Negative, if you think it's 'just a guess' why don't you go out there yourself and scope it out?" He mocked. Isaac squawked a little and looked around at Derek for help. But the alpha just smirked a little in amusement and folded his arms across his chest, giving his beta a challenging look. The beta grumbled angrily under his breathe then stomped out of the house, ignoring the small snickers from Cora and Erica.

"And if they're there, what do we do next?" Talia spoke after a moment of silence.

"We send a message of our own." Stiles exhaled and glanced over at the ultrasonic emitters that were still lodged into the wooden table.

Approximately 35 minutes later, Isaac came into the house in a sulk-ish manner soaked to the bone from the pissing rain before confirming that Stiles was indeed right about them hiding at the motel.


They were all getting ready for their own little vendetta event when Stiles had managed to pull Derek aside.

"Hey, we gotta talk. Not right now, though, but I was wondering if you could possibly meet me at the cottage at midnight?" He requested. Derek looked confused but he nodded anyways.

"Is something wrong?" He asked in worry.

Stiles swallowed. "You have no idea." He muttered. "But I'll tell you everything tonight, I promise." Derek's eyebrows deepened in their bow and he frowned, worried and confused eyes scanning Stiles head to toe before slowly nodding.

"Alright. Cottage. At midnight. I'll be there." He reiterated. Stiles let out a breathe and patted his shoulder before jogging past him. Derek's gaze followed him before he caught sight of Peter watching him. Peter motioned his hand for him to follow and the other alpha obliged. Their plan was for Stiles to go in first with Talia, serving as a mere distraction at first; Stiles was curious to see how they would react upon seeing him, but most of all, seeing Talia. Then when given the signal, the others would enter the room and surround the hunters. It was an easy task and even Isaac said it'd be 'a breeze' to do ("that's the first positive thing I've heard you say since meeting you"). But Stiles had his own message to lay out, knowing that the other hunters would find the crime scene anyways.

Stiles glanced over at Talia, who nodded at him, and knocked on the door. It took a few moments before the door finally opened and Joseph was standing in front of them. The hunter paused, eyes slowly widening as he took in the sight of the two werewolves grinning at them.

"Hey, Thing 1. Where's Thing 2?" Stiles purred mockingly. Joseph narrowed his eyes at him before opening the door slightly to reveal Damien looking over at the door from the couch. At the sight of Talia, Damien immediately shot up to his feet and grabbed his dagger.

"Oh, now now—there's no need to be so rash." Talia tutted and walked into the room, easily nudging Joseph aside. "We just came to talk."

"Talk?" Joseph echoed in a tone that said he didn't quite believe her. "A werewolf coming to just talk with a werewolf hunter?"

The alpha female tutted again, in amusement this time. "Get that little brain of yours working, pup." She teased. The hunter growled a little and charged forward only to be stopped by Stiles.

"You always needed to work on that short fuse of yours." Stiles hummed. "Guess all those anger management classes haven't worked, huh?"

"Why the hell are you here, Stilinski?" Damien hissed. "When you're supposed to be the one—"

"I am here to other reasons." Stiles deliberately cut him off from finishing his sentence. "Reasons that you two will soon find out. Tell me, Joseph," he walked forward casually, folding his hands behind his back. "how's that knee goin'?" Joseph made a noise of confusion and looked down at his knee just seconds before he was on the ground, screaming in pain as an arrow was shot straight through his knee.

"Not again!" He wailed.

Stiles laughed. "I'm pleased you remember." He turned his head and looked over at Damian, who raised his dagger and threw it at Stiles. But Stiles didn't even have to raise his hand to catch the dagger, for someone else had beat him to it. "Ah. Right. The reasons I mentioned." He intoned playfully. Damien's eyes slowly widened as he watched Derek toss his dagger to the ground, eyes bleeding into an angry red as he snarled at him. Stiles' grin grew as he smelt the terror rolling off of the hunter as the rest of the Hale pack emerged, piling in through the doorway and through the windows.

"Meet the rest of the Hale pack."

The hunter let out a scream just seconds before some of the werewolves pounced on him. Stiles turned his head away from the scene, still not a fan of blood and the sound of flesh being torn, and grabbed the bag that Peter handed to him. He unzipped the bag and took out the ultrasonic emitter before walking over to the door and stabbing it into the wood. He let out a breathe and looked over at Joseph, who was horrified from his position on the floor. With a small grin, he bent down in front of Joseph and looked him dead in the eye.

"Have you heard what happened to me, Joseph?" He asked. The male slowly nodded and Stiles let his eyes bleed into the shimmering gold color for emphasis. "Good. Then you know what I'm capable of. I've got the Hale pack at my side." As if on cue, Derek appeared beside him, one hand reaching out to claim a spot on the back of Stiles' shoulder. "So, am I correct to assume that Kate had sent you?" Joseph whimpered in fear and nodded, sinking lower into the corner. "Man, it feels good to right. Listen, pup, can do me a little favor? Mind sending Kate and them a message?"

Joseph slowly looked at Stiles and gulped. "W-What kind of a message?" He said shakily. Stiles' expression hardened and in a flash, he stabbed a second ultrasonic emitter into the wall. Right next to Joseph's head. The hunter let out a yelp of fear and flinched, covering his head with his arms.

"My message to them is that I am a Stilinski." He hissed. Joseph slowly looked up at him, shaking in fear. "I am a Stilinski that is hellbent on getting revenge for the death of his parents, for the deaths of all the innocents. Tell them that Stiles Stilinski is coming with a storm on his back." The hunter could only watch in apprehension as they all left before he slowly looked over at the ultrasonic emitter that was lodged into the wall.


 

He knew what this was entitling. He knew what would happen after this all blows through. That he would be considered a traitor, not that he already is because--werewolf. But he'd be even more so; falling in love with a Hale, befriending all of them, helping them kill a hunter. And let's not forget that lovely little message Stiles entrusted in to Joseph. Most of all, he knew what he was doing. He knew what it meant, what it'll bring, and what the aftermath will be.

He just declared war.

Not only did he declare war, he broke every single rule he was embedded with. He broke the code (but then again, the code was broken 2 weeks ago when he got bitten and was spared). But rules and codes don't matter to him. What matters to Stiles is the lives of the people he holds most dear. He will do everything and anything he can to make sure each and every single one of them makes it out alive.

Even if it means that he's the one that doesn't.

It was getting close to midnight and Stiles was trying to figure out how exactly he should explain everything. Should he just jump right out and say it? Be blunt, honest, and truthful? Give Derek the cold hard truth?

Yeah, hi, Derek. Yeah, I just wanted to tell you that this was actually not a coincidence. I was supposed to be executed—bitten and all that cute shit—but Gerard decided to spare me so that I could infiltrate your pack from the inside, earn your trust, so it could be like 10x easier to kill your mother, Talia.

Yeah, let's not go with that.

He'd had to start slow and start explaining everything from the very beginning. And if Derek doesn't believe him, Stiles has two choices; make Derek listen to his heart beat or... let him rip him limb from limb.

Positive thoughts, Stiles. Positive thoughts—oh who am I kidding, they're gonna slaughter me.

Stiles groaned and rubbed his face with his hands and ruffled his hair in frustration. This was going to end well and he knew that. But he hopes it will at the same time. He needs them to hate him, he needs them to go away--to run as far and as fast as they can. To not look back, to not hesitate and just run.

A ringtone suddenly jerked him out of his frantic thoughts and he flailed around (let's not talk about the girly squeal, shall we?) before tumbling out of his bed, smacking into the carpet with a heavy thunk. Letting out a huff, he straightened himself up and snatched his phone.

"You have the worst timing." He grumbled. "Scared the bejeezus outta me."

"Lost in your own thoughts?" The voice drawled back, slightly amused. Stiles immediately straightened.

"Gerard." He stated.

"You sound surprised to me."

"...That's an understatement." Did he not know about what happened? How did he not know? That was like 6 hours ago—surely Joseph is not a nitwit and actually delivered the fucking message.

Gerard lightly chuckled. "I have some good news, Stiles! We've finished the final touches on the plan." His stomach dropped. Oh no. "The attack will happen tomorrow. We would've done it tonight, however, we're still waiting for a good portion of our hunters to return back from New York City. Their flight got delayed until tomorrow morning. I will call you when the time is right. Do you understand?"

Swallowing, Stiles looked over at the framed photo of his parents. "Understood." He answered.

"Good." Gerard practically purred in pleasured. "Rest well, Stiles. You'll need your energy for tomorrow." Gerard hung up a second after that but Stiles' eyes remained glued on the photo. He turned his head, finally breaking his eyes away from it, when he heard a small creak. Peter was standing in the doorway with a small crease of his eyebrow.

"I'll explain the phone-call later." Stiles exhaled and tossed his phone on to the bed. "Right now, I just... I'm just trying to figure out how to tell him, ya know?"

With a small sigh, the alpha walked into the room and silently shut the door. "I know it ain't easy, kid. Life is never easy. But Derek... he's a very understanding person. He sees the good in people; the type of good that even they don't see in themselves." He sat down next to Stiles and offered a small smile. "He'll forgive you."

"No!" Stiles shrieked and hopped up to his feet. "He won't! And he shouldn't, either!" Peter frowned in confusion. "Peter—I did this! Ian would still be alive if it wasn't for me, none of you wouldn't be walking on broken glass right now because of Kate if it wasn't for me. No, no I'm not asking for anyone's forgiveness. My acts are far beyond forgiveness." He let out a shaky breathe and covered his mouth and nose with both hands, his thumbs resting underneath his jaw. "Peter, promise me something?"

"Yes—of course, what is it?" Peter quickly asked as he got to his feet.

Stiles removed his hands from his face and sent the older male a defeated look. "When I tell you and the others to run, you run. You run as fast and as far as you can. You gotta promise me this, okay? You gotta promise me that you won't turn back, that you won't look back, and that you won't come back for me. No matter what. Got me?" Peter paused in shock and opened his mouth to protest but Stiles jolted forward, grabbing him by his shoulders with a shaky determination in his eyes. "Promise me, Peter!! Promise me!" He demanded.

"Stiles." Peter gasped brokenly.

"Promise me." Stiles hissed as his eyes hardened. The other male fell silent for a moment and he felt Peter's shoulders slump underneath his palms.

"I... I promise." Peter complied quietly.

"Good." Stiles nodded and slowly removed his hands. "I can't have any more of you dying because of me. This needs to end now and if it means I declare war on the very people that raised me, then so be it. I'm the only one that can end this. Me. Just me." He articulated and licked his lips before glancing over at the clock. 11:59pm. "I have to go to Derek now." Peter stepped aside slowly and let the beta stalk past him, eyes downcast. He sighed dejectedly and looked around Stiles' room before his eyes landed on the framed photo.

It was silent for the most part until he spoke quietly in such a lamented tone, "I'm sorry we failed you."

Stiles made his way out of the house and shuddered slightly as the crisp night blew gently, fallen leaves dancing around his Converses as he walked. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and popped his hoodie up over his head as he easily maneuvered his way into the path that leads to the cottage. Assuming that Derek was there already (he's always at least 5 minutes early, mainly to criticize Stiles on being late even if it's by 30 seconds), Stiles found himself just leisurely strolling through the trail. He was taking his time, or more like trying to avoid the inevitable.

This was something Stiles never wanted to do; break the heart of the person he loved. But it's the only way. It's the only way for him to survive.

Recognizing the fallen Ash tree, Stiles knew he was about halfway through the cottage when he heard rustling. He at first brushed the sound off, thinking it was maybe a little fox or a raccoon or even a bunny. So he just kept walking. However, the sound happened again; more distinct, more thick, and definitely a whole lot closer. It made Stiles freeze and immediately activate his werewolf senses. His eyes flashed the shimmering yellow, a contract so the darkness surrounding him, as he slowly looked around. But he couldn't see anything. So he smelled the air. Fresh rain. A sharp smell of pine. A little smoke from the bonfires downtown. And--

With a startled gasp, Stiles booked it and ducked just in time as an arrow zoomed past his head. As soon as he began running, all hell broke loose. He could hear arrows zipping by him as he bolted, doing etch-a-sketches through the trees. He could smell the wolfsbane on the arrows and he didn't even have to whiff the air to know who it was.

Kate Argent.

Do you ever just listen to a song that immediately reminds you of someone? Like the whole vibe and the lyrics just makes you picture someone? Bitch Came Back by Theory of A Deadman. Totally the epitome of her.

With a small shout of surprise, Stiles raised his arms to protect his head as an arrow fly by his head and he swore his felt some of his hair tug out of his scalp. Honestly, he didn't really know where he was going. He just took off in a random direction, what the hell else was he supposed to do? Raise a Batman signal in the air?

Shooting pain hit his thigh and he cried out, easily stumbling to the ground. The pain intensified with the passing second and he let out a small scream as he realized it was a wolfsbane arrow lodged into his thigh. He turned around as he heard more rustling, this time voices laying in with the noise, and his eyes widened in fear. He immediately began crawling backwards and had nearly gotten backed up to his feet if it wasn't for another arrow shooting out from the darkness and hitting him square in the stomach. The breathe left him immediately and he felt his throat constricting as he collapsed on to his back. He groaned quietly and winced as he felt the wolfsbane spreading through him, eyes pulsing between yellow and his normal eye color. Suddenly, the voices and the noises stopped. He was relieved at first; thinking that they figured they had killed him before leaving. But then he saw a red dot from somewhere up in the trees. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he squinted, trying to make sense of the random red dot. But then another popped up near it. And another one and another and another--and suddenly, Stiles knew exactly what the hell those dots were. They were lasers aiming right at him. They were in the god damn fucking trees.

Pushing aside the Hunger Games reference, he scrambled backwards as he looked down at himself; letting out a horrified sob as he saw a million red dots all over him. He twisted around and cried out as the arrow in his stomach moved with him so he yanked the arrow out with gritted teeth. The wound didn't heal as he crawled in vein; he could feel more red dots landing on him. There was a small whoosh sound and it sent chills down his spine. The arrow that was just shot through the air landed into his back; eliciting a piercing scream. Stiles leaned on to his side and reached behind him to try to yank the arrow out.

"If you wanna declare war," a voice suddenly broke through the night and Stiles froze. Kate. "then fine. War is what you'll have." Hand still on the arrow in his back, he slowly raised his eyes up into the trees and tried to use his werewolf vision to locate her up in the trees. However, the wolfsbane was already beginning to make his head spin. He gripped his hand around the arrow in his back and let out a sharp hiss as he yanked it out. He tried to remain his crawling but then that's when he heard it. The whooshing of arrows zipping through the air as a rain of them came down from the trees on to him. And all Stiles could do was cover his head with his arms.

Chapter Text

Blood. It was hanging thick in the air mixed in with fear and a brisk new scent, but he already knew that scent. Hunters. The blood alone was enough to put them all on high alert but it was the screaming that got them to sprint out of the house at full speed. And Stiles knew that his screaming would alert them, the scent of his own blood making his head spin. The pain had made it worse; his wounds still not healing because of the wolfsbane and he could feel the sticky, warm liquid roll across his skin. But when he heard the wave of arrows rain down at him from high up in the trees, he had suspected to feel the impact of several of them before everything had went black. So he didn't really know why he even bothered to cover his head―he knew he was dead anyways. However, what he didn't suspect, was not feeling a damn thing. He heard the thuds of arrows hitting the ground around him but not once did he feel a single arrow hit him anywhere.

Either the hunters need glasses or Stiles is a living relic from the Matrix.

A small grunt caught his attention and he froze, head lifting from the confines of his arms slightly. Slowly, he turned his head to the side and noticed that there were a pair of arms beside his head; caging him. No. Oh god, no. Stiles let out a shaky breathe and turned around, eyes widening as he stared up at Derek. Derek, whom was shielding Stiles' body with his own, had his face twisted a little in pain. His entire back was embedded with more than enough arrows and as Derek slowly lifted his gaze to meet Stiles' teary eyes, his red eyes flashed a little.

"Derek?" Stiles gasped as Derek's elbows finally gave out and he collapsed on to Stiles. Instinctively, Stiles held Derek in his lap and slides his arms around Derek's shoulder. He looked up as he heard movement and stiffened at the sight of the hunters climbing down from their spots in the trees.

"How cute." Kate purred with a smirk. "Prince Charming saves the damsel in distress. How Disney."

"Derek. What the fuck―" Stiles reached up and began to pull the arrows out of his back, wincing with every groan the alpha emitted. "―are you doing here?!" He hissed in a whisper. He tried not to hurt Derek so much as he pulled the arrows out as fast as he could. With that many wolfsbane arrows in him, it surely could kill him if he wasn't fast enough.

"S-Smelt your blood.." Derek panted and shifted his gaze down to Stiles' thigh, which still had an arrow planted in it. "H-Heard your screams.."

"You shouldn't have come here." Stiles was able to yank the last arrow out before he let out a cry of his own when he was yanked away from Derek. He heard Derek call out for his name as he was dragged away from him by a hunter just before he was shoved on to the ground. "Fuck―you don't know when to stop, do you?" He hissed angrily as Kate kicked him in the thigh.

"Oh, honey, do you honestly think I'll stop because you were Gerard's protege?" She taunted. "But, if I were to be honest," The huntress bent down and touched Stiles' jaw. "you are pretty easy on the eyes." Stiles scowled and yanked away from her touch before spitting at her.

"Fuck you." He growled. Kate's smile went rigid before she slowly raised her hand to wipe his spit off of her cheek, tutting softly. Derek let out a yell of warning as Kate suddenly grabbed a fistful of Stiles' hair and aimed her pistol under his chin.

"You're playing with fire, kid." She warned and drew their faces together.

Stiles seemed unfazed. "As were you." He snarled. The huntress narrowed her eyes at him and chuckled darkly.

"So you know about the arson I committed? Mmh, you're a smart one." She tilted her head a little and grinned at him. "Too bad your wits won't convince me to not pull the trigger."

The beta laughed at this. "You think you're all high and mighty, don't you? Tell me, did you receive my message?" He asked mockingly. Kate's smiled faltered a little, confusion flickering in her eyes. "I'll take that as a yes. But, tell me, who do you think the message was really for? Gerard or you?"

"What I think is that you're awfully brave for a little boy to call war against grown-ups." Kate taunted with a small pout on her lips. "It's really noble of you. But I think you're gonna die as soon as I lodge this bullet through your skull."

"Is that so?" Stiles grinned as the woman gasped, her eyes widening. "I think you'll die as soon as I lodge this arrow through your chest." He shoved the arrow deeper into her and she sputtered, blood spotting between her lips. Stiles leaned forward until his lips were brushing against her ear and growled.

"What I think is that you're awfully brave for naive bitch to go and kill a boy's parents and make him an orphan. It's very noble of you. But that little message? It was for you, sweetheart." He gripped the arrow and gave it one finally shove. Kate gasped before letting out a cough, loosening her grip on her pistol until it slipped out of her hand. "Did you honestly think I wouldn't come and hunt you down once I found out that you murdered my parents? No, no. This is war, bitch. And my first target was you. So much for a little boy, huh?" She gave him a look of bewildered look of surprise before she crumbled to the ground beside him. The next second was a blur; he heard an angry roar just as he felt another arrow slam into his chest then that's when he supposed everything had hit the fan. As he lay there with his vision swimming in and out of focus, body completely numb, he managed to catch a glimpse of the Hale pack running full speed into the havoc. Cora and Laura dashing over to a very worried Derek (who was seemingly saying, shouting, something as he kept his eyes on Stiles; attempting to even crawl his way over to him but was soon stopped by Laura and the wounds on his back). Peter sliding on to his knees in front of him, successfully blocking the view of Derek, and holding his face in his hands. He remembered Peter's eyes flashing red in pure rage as his mouth moved, shouting things at him but Stiles couldn't hear him. He couldn't hear anything aside from a very loud, sharp ringing in his ear. Stiles doesn't remember anything else from that point; he must have blacked out at that point.

"What are gonna do?!" Isaac shouted. "His wounds aren't healing!! He's dying!!"

"You don't think I know that?!" Derek shouted back. "You think this is easy for me to watch?!"

"Boys, enough!" Cora pushed both of them back by their chests and stood between them. "This is not the time to argue! We have to think!"

"I know what we can do." Talia gasped softly and rushed forward to gather Stiles in her arms, cradling his limp and unconscious farm as his limbs and head dangle. "We have to visit someone. An old friend. He can help us." They all dog-piled (pun-intended) into their cars with Talia in Derek's Camaro, clambering into the back and putting the boy's head on her lap. She gave directions to her son as he sped through the town. Occasionally, Derek took his eyes off of the road and would look into the back-seat to see his mother leaching some of Stiles' pain away.

"We're here." She panted, clearly out of energy but that didn't stop her from trying to take his pain away. "Just.. right―take another right and pull into the parking lot." Derek did as he was told and soon parked the car, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he took on the building in front of them. He climbed out of the car and helped his mother climb out before he gathered Stiles into his arms. By the time he had raised his head and was practically kicking down the front door, the rest of the pack had pulled into the parking lot and were clambering behind him in a messy heap.

"I'm sorry we're a really busy right now. You'll have to come back another... time." A owner of the voice trailed off as he took in the sight of the pack standing in front of him, eyes wide, as he rounded the corner into the waiting room. Talia stepped forward and put her hands on the counter as she fixed her gaze on the male.

"Can you help us?" She asked. The male glanced at her, his frown deepening a little, before he fixed his posture.

"It's been a while, Talia." He pointed out. "Didn't think I'd be seeing you, but..." His eyes darted up to Stiles' paling form in Derek's arms. Derek took a second to look at the man his mother was speaking to and noticed his name tag. "I don't think I can―"

"Deaton." Derek cut off and stepped forward. "His name is Stiles Stilinski." At this, Deaton pauses briefly before he takes a second to collect himself then glancing at the receptionist.

"Cancel all appointments. Go home and flip the sign on the door." He ordered, leaving no room for discussion. The receptionist looked very alarm as she watched him approach the small door that separated them. Deaton opened it and looked up at Derek with a fierce gaze. "Bring him in." Derek wasted no second to rush past him and into the doorway that leads him into the examiner room. He laid Stiles down on to the table and touched his cheek briefly.

"We got attacked by hunters." Cora explained between heavy breathes. "It was―it was Kate." Deaton gritted his teeth in anger as he rushed over to Derek's side, sleeves shoved up to his elbows as he slipped on a pair of latex gloves.

"I'm not even a little surprised that she decided to make a grand entrance like this." Deaton clipped as he began to cut Stiles' shirt open. "I figured she'd be returning at some point. Derek, take the arrow out of his thigh but be careful with it. Then take off his pants for me, please." Derek nodded and wrapped his hand around the arrow in Stiles' thigh before gently pulling it out. "So, this―this is Stilinski's kid?"

"Yeah... He had gotten bitten by the rogue a couple weeks ago." Peter breathed and took a seat. "He's a hunter, actually. Well, was. When he got bitten he was exiled from them. He came to us for help because he.. pretty much had nowhere to go."

Deaton shook his head as he inspected Stiles' wounds. "I didn't even know the kid was still alive. After I had heard what happened, no one really knew answers about what happened with Stiles. I guess it's safe to assume that he had been kidnapped and was forced to live the life of a hunter?" He speculated and looked up to see Talia's slow nod. "Such a shame... Anyways, there's a lot of wolfsbane in his system. Did you try to trigger the pain process?"

"We did!" Erica pointed to Stiles' broken wrist. "But it won't work!" Deaton frowned in confusion before moving around the room as if he just had an epiphany. He returned back to the table with the basic first aid kit.

"Do any of you have a lighter with you?" He prompted as he searched through the kit. Boyd was the one to fish a lighter out of his pocket and hand it to Deaton. "If the wounds don't heal with the help of the pain process, then it's because his body isn't letting him heal."

Derek frowned. "Meaning what, exactly?"

"Meaning it's psychological; all in his head." Deaton began as he finally found what he was looking for; the basic equipment for stitches. "Maybe he blames himself for something or he feels he's at fault for something major. So, first; what we need to do is cure his body from the wolfsbane and that's why we need the lighter." They all watched with belated breathe as the vet began to burn the wounds on Stiles' body one by one before the black veins in his skin began to disappear. The wounds didn't heal but Deaton was quick to begin stitching them up.

"We just gotta make him think the wounds are healing." He concluded before rushing into the back. Deaton returned a moment later with a cast to begin working on patching Stiles' broken wrist up. "Check his pulse." Derek reached forward and pressed his fingers against Stiles' neck.

"I can't seem to find a pulse!" He exclaimed. Deaton nodded and went to the opposite side of the room, searching through a couple of cupboards before returning with a defibrillator in his hands.

"Hopefully, this should be enough to give him that push he needs." Deaton exhaled and glanced up at all of them unsurely before getting an approval nod from Talia. He glanced hesitantly at Derek before turning the machine on, rubbing the plates together to gather the electricity in them, and let out a breathe before inhaling. Without a fleeting though, he pressed the plates down on to Stiles' chest. Stiles' back arched off of the metal table as his body jolted in response to the electric current. As soon as Deaton pulled the plates away from his chest, Stiles awoke gasping for breathe and in a coughing fit. The entire room filled with relieved sighs and Derek stepped forward to put his hand on the back Stiles' head, leaning down to press their foreheads together.

"It's alright. You're alright―you're okay." He reassured. Stiles blinked rapidly up at him, whisky eyes glistening with tears because of the rough coughing fit.

"D'rk?" Stiles' voice slurred and he coughed softly.

"You're okay." Derek repeated and looked him in the eye. "I'm not gonna let anything else happen to you, okay? You're safe now." Stiles nodded stiffly and clutched on to Derek's shirt as he slowly eased himself up into a seated position.

"Stiles?" Deaton called out softly. The said male looked up at the vet. "I'm Doctor Alan Deaton."

Stiles took a moment to study him and the room he was in. "A veterinarian." He stated. Deaton smiled softly and nodded. "Why... am I at a vet office?"

"I used to be Talia's emissary." Deaton explained and began taking off his gloves. "But I was an old friend of your fathers, Stiles." At that, Stiles whipped his head around to look up at Deaton with wide eyes. "Yeah, that's right. I was there when he was pointed Sheriff and when he married Claudia; when she got pregnant with you." The doctor pauses briefly and assesses the boy with a fond, yet sad, look in his eye. "When I had heard what had happened, everyone was pretty much devastated. The Stilinski family was very well-known, very loved and admired. Your father was a noble man and an even nobler Sheriff. So when their deaths hit the town... we were all quite affected by it, more so since we were all under the impression that you were also killed. But, clearly, you're not... Goodness, you look just like her." As the doctor noticed how Stiles was beginning to tear up, he stalked forward and engulfed the boy into his arms; letting the beta cling onto him and cry softly into his shoulder. "Stiles, you gotta do me and your parents a very big favor, okay? You're the last remaining Stilinski. You've got to carry that name. Carry that name with pride and don't let anyone try to run you down. Got me?" Stiles sniffled and nodded quickly before pulling away from the hug. Deaton straightened his back, lips formed into a thin line, and looked up at Talia.

"Deaton, what do we do?" She fretted. "Kate's back... and she's a whole army with her, plus Gerard and his hunters. We were barely able get passed the group of hunters earlier when they attacked."

"Right now, your choices are slim. If you stay and fight, then most of you―if not all―won't survive. Running may be your only choice." He advised. Talia sighed at this and nibbled on her bottom lip as she weighed her options. Stiles snuck a glance over at Peter, who looked back at him with a small frown, before glancing up at Derek.

"Are you okay?" He whispered. The alpha tore his attention away from Talia and Deaton to glance down at him. "You... protect me. From all those arrows..."

"Yeah." Derek's eyes searched Stiles' as he spoke softly. "Yeah, I did."

"...Why?"

With a small sigh, Derek pulled Stiles close to him and held him to his chest. "Because that's what an alpha does, Stiles; he protects his pack even if that means he's the one who had to fall. But... that's not the only reason; it's what imprinting does." He held Stiles for a moment longer before he pulled him back to arms length. "You can sense when... when your mate is in distress or in danger. It's like a sixth sense, I suppose." He elaborated then let his lips form in a thin line. Stiles took a second to admire the male's stubble before looking down at himself. "Your wounds are healing." Derek looked around and found a pair of scissors to begin cutting the stitches out. Stiles watched in slight awe as his own wounds healed, new skin forming and closing the wound. He glanced up at Derek and gave him a stiff smile before he got to his feet.

"You need some clothes." Peter snorted in an attempting to break the tense silence. "I'm sure none of us, especially Derek, would allow you to walk around town in just your... briefs." Stiles let out a small noise of alarm as the realization of him being half-naked in front of him hit him and he quickly hid behind Derek's bulky form.

"Yeah, some clothes would be nice." He squeaked.

Deaton chuckled and began walking back out into the waiting room. "Hang on just a moment. I'll make a call to my other off-duty employee. They'll bring some clothes for you. Hang tight." Stiles nodded stiffly and sighed, pressing his forehead against Derek's back.

"In the mean time," Isaac pressed forward and put his hands on the table that Stiles was just laying on. "we need a plan. We can't just sit here idly and let Kate get even closer."

"He's right." Cora agreed. "And as much as I hate this, we have a very little chance against Kate and the other hunters she's got with her. So we have to run. We have to find a place that'll be safe for us. At least for the time being so we could figure out what the hell to do."

"But since she's basically biting us in the ass right now, we have to figure out a new place to go and we need to figure it out now." Erica stressed. "Because I don't know about you all, but I wanna live. I mean, I just turned 18 and I wouldn't mind getting my license for a change."

Peter groaned in annoyance and rolled his eyes. "This is not the time for you to worry about being a normal teenager." He drawled. Erica squinted at him. "The only thing all of us are trying to focus on is staying together and surviving."

"I have an idea." Stiles piped up softly, gathering their attention. "There's this... underground bunker near this loft downtown. The bunker is basically undetectable and the entrance to it is hidden. As a kid, we were all sent to the building to train and I stumbled upon it by accident one night..." He smiled softly at the fond memory. "Ended up giving everyone heart-attacks when I jumped out of nowhere. Swear I actually made Scott shit his pants. But, yeah, it's been years since we've stepped foot into the building. And as long as no one sees us going there, I think we'll be set." Talia seemed pleased by this and looked around for anyone who opposed. When she was meant with nothing, she looked over at Stiles and nodded.

"We got back to the loft after Deaton's employee arrives with clothes. You can show us the location of the loft on the map we have. We leave tomorrow morning." She instructed. Everyone nodded and the room was soon filled with idle chatter. Using this moment, Stiles managed to pull Peter aside and began to whisper to him.

"You guys go there with or without me, got it?" He murmured and raised his eyebrows. "I'll explain where the hidden entrance is. The phone-call I had gotten yesterday was from Gerard. He wants the attack to happen tomorrow but I don't know when―he's supposed to send me a text message to let me know when he wants me to make the first move." Peter frowned, a confused rage flaring in his eyes. "I honestly don't know how he doesn't know about us attacking the hunters. Kate knows, how the hell does he not know? Maybe he does, I don't know. He basically implied that he had no knowledge of it." Stiles sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Well," Peter drawled uneasily then folded his arms across his chest. "isn't this just one big ray of stress?"

"Yeah." Stiles agreed, nodded, and put his hands on his hips.

"Stiles?" Deaton called out. "My other employee is here with the clothes." Stiles gave on final look to Peter before following Deaton out into the waiting room. The beta gasped before bolting forward, practically leaping over the counter swing door at the counter before throwing himself into Scott's arms.

"Stiles?!" Scott exclaimed as he held his best friend. "How the- what the-"

"Long story." Stiles pulled back and held him at the shoulders. "Basically, Evil Bitch Kate attack and I got injured and my wounds weren't healing so they took me here―and tadah! I met Deaton, who was actually a close friend of my dad's―who knew―and as you can see, I'm half-naked so thank you for the clothes―oh! And you know that loft building we trained at when we were like 9? Yeah, that building―they have to go there to seek shelter from Evil Bitch Kate in order to note get killed and―" He blabbered only to get cut off.

"Stiles." Scott laughed and lightly shook his friend. "You need to breathe between your sentences, okay? Anyways, yes, I know what building you're talking about. That's a good idea; the hidden entrance and everything. It's been so long and even I don't remember where it is. I really don't think Kate would even think about looking there." Stiles panted softly and snatch the shirt from Scott's hold to begin putting it on.

"Exactly. That's pretty much their only option right now; to be in hiding." He grimaced. "'Cause, like, I get that they don't want to run anymore, ya know?" Stiles took the pants and begin to shimmy his way into them. "Running makes them feel weak and they wanna turn and fight but they don't have the man-power to do it."

Scott sighed and looked guilty. "Man, I wish I could help." He intoned. "But we're kind of in a tight spot right now."

"What do you mean?" Stiles scowled as he buttoned the jeans. "Did something happen at the institute?" He asked.

The other male nodded slowly and glanced at Deaton before leaning in closer to Stiles. "There was a small attack last night in Gerard's headquarters. Someone came in demanding to know where you were." At Stiles' confused expression, Scott continued. "Stiles... there's something you really need to know. About your father."

"The Sheriff?" Deaton exclaimed softly and took a step forward.

"What about him?" Stiles question in apprehension.

Scott hesitated briefly. "He's alive." He murmured. Stiles froze, eyes slowly widening. "Me and Allison cracked it the other night... Those anonymous notes that were being sent to Gerard? The initials were N.S. Noah Stilinski, your father. And the symbol that was used with it is the same one." He pointed down to Stiles' pendant and Stiles followed his gaze. "He showed up last night, Stiles... He showed up demanding to know where his son is, why he wasn't here and what had happened." Stiles opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out except with a small whimper and he looked over at Deaton, who seemed just as shocked and emotional as he was. "Gerard didn't answer him from what I hear... and he wounded Gerard pretty badly; got him good in the leg with a couple bullets. Allison was ordered to help guard him in his chambers."

"My dad... is... he's... he's..."

"Alive." Deaton confirmed with a wavering voice. "He's alive..."

"He's alive." Stiles echoed in disbelief. Scott immediately pulled Stiles into his arms and hugged him tightly.

"Stiles?" A voice called out and Stiles lifted his head to see a very confused Derek looking at him, the rest of the pack peeking out from the doorway.

"Who is he?" Cora hissed. She took a step forward and sniffed the air a little before growling, her eyes flashing gold. "Hunter."

"No, no―wait!" Stiles shrieked and jolted forward in front of Scott, arms flailing out. "Wait!! He's a friend!! He's a friend!"

Derek growled in warning. "We can't take any risks, Stiles. He could be siding with Kate―"

"―Siding with Kate?" Scott sputtered. "Are you―look, I don't know who you think I am, but I am not with Kate." Derek and Cora both seemed a little surprised, staring at him in silence but with their claws still out. "After we had found out about the truth, with everything, I've been trying to help Stiles as much as I can. Both me and my girlfriend, Allison."

"So that's who you've been speaking on the phone with?" Laura questioned.

Stiles paused. "Occasionally, yes." He answered. "We've grown up together; we're basically brothers. Guys, seriously―he means no harm. He's just trying to help. That's all he's been doing; helping." Derek seemed hesitant but he took the claws and fangs away while standing up straighter.

"I sensed your distress." He pointed out after a beat of silence. "Something about someone being alive?"

"Ah, that." Stiles muttered. He shifted on his feet uneasily and glanced over at the vet. Deaton sighed quietly and turned to the pack members.

"Scott had just broke the news to Stiles that his father is alive." He revealed. They all gasped and Stiles swore he never saw Talia look so shocked before. Derek whipped his head around to look at his mother in disbelief before he looked back at Scott, eyes demanding an explanation.

"Gerard was getting these anonymous letters lately." Scott began. "Letters mentioning Stiles, but no in a threatening way. More like in a protective way. The writer was basically saying 'if you hurt Stiles, then I hurt you.' The letters would have the initials of N.S on it along with a stamp of the symbol that mirrors the pendant Stiles wears. Last night, there was an attack at the institute and someone attack Gerard in his quarters; demanding to know where Stiles was, why he wasn't there, and what had happened. Gerard didn't answer him and he's injured from 4 shots to the thigh." Derek listened for a blip in Scott's heartbeat but found that his heart was beating steady. He glanced over at his mother before giving her a slight nod.

"Where is he then?" Talia asked. "Where's Noah?"

Scott shrugged. "I don't know. No one does. He just.. disappeared after that. The hunters that tried following him ended up loosing his trail not too long after. Oh, I forgot to mention something." He turned to Stiles, mouth in a firm line. "Your father was with the FBI." He deadpanned. Stiles' jaw dropped. "And the guy leading the FBI? My father."

There was a beat of silence. "So... your father, who used to be a serious alcoholic, somehow is now a FBI agent and is back in town after how many years?" Stiles drawled awkwardly. Scott nodded slowly with his mouth still in a firm line and a look of discomfort in his eye. "And my dad... who is... who is supposed to be dead is somehow not dead and was apart of the attack that happened at the institute last night?" Another nod. "Well fuck me side ways and call me Sally."


 

They had decided to head back to the house to begin preparations for tomorrow morning. It had taken Stiles a little while for him to gain some strength though; his body still a little battered from earlier. Stiles was sitting on the porch swing about an hour later, staring off at the scenery and occasionally watching Erica and Isaac play with the pups; lost in his own thoughts that he hadn't noticed Talia joining in him on the swing until she had said something. He pretty much pinwheeled off of the swing, arms flaying as he let out a surprised shriek before crumbling in a heap on the ground.

"Christ―I'm beginning to feel the need to buy each of you bells." He grumbled. Talia chuckled and helped the boy back on to the swing.

"I didn't mean to startle you. I was just checking up on you. You've been awfully quiet since we've gotten back." She commented.

Stiles glanced at her with his eyebrows slightly raised. "I thought everyone liked it when I'm quiet?"

"You do have a habit of talking non-stop, yes. But usually, you're quiet when you're thinking." She tilted her head and observed him. "You're thinking about your father, aren't you?" She guessed.

Letting out a small sigh, he turned his head and looked back up at the sunset. "Yeah... My dad's alive and, uh.. I guess it's just another thing that I'm trying to let sink in, ya know? I mean―I have so many questions!"

"How did he survive the attack? Where has he been? Why was he sending the anonymous letters? Did he know that you were alive? And why wait until now to make himself known? Yes, Stiles, I get it." She exhaled and reached up to squeeze his shoulder. "I'm pretty much drowning in your confusion and stress right now. Even I want to know the answers to your questions because I'm just as perplexed as you are."

Stiles fell silent for a moment before shifting his entire body around to face the alpha. "Tell me about what happened that night." He requested softly. "I want to know what happened."

Talia seemed a little surprised but nodded anyways. "It was only a few days after Claudia had given birth to you; we were all by her side in the hospital room. Me and my husband were announced to be your godparents, actually, and Claudia gave Peter a special task; to protect you with every ounce in him. Of course, we were all given that task but she specifically pointed out Peter to be your... well, guardian in simplest terms." Stiles' eyebrows shot up in surprise. "So the night when Kate showed up... none of us were suspecting it but at the same time, we knew that this day was bound to happen. Kate shot Claudia once in the stomach when she made her entrance and the group of hunters were behind her, so she had complete control over the situation. Kate was going on and on about how she was 'so happy to be able to do something she's wanted to do for years.' Apparently, killing the Hales was the top of her bucket list." She chuckled sadly and looked down into her hands. "She shot down my husband first with a single bullet; hitting him directly in the heart. Derek shot forward for his father when she aimed the gun at him and that's... that's when Claudia jumped in to shield him from the rain of bullets. I was so consumed with distraught as I watched the life leave her eyes and heard her heart stop beating that I didn't hear anything; didn't hear you crying from upstairs, didn't hear your father yelling for us to run. I had seemingly snapped out of my daze as Peter was pretty much dragging me out of the house with my son in his arms. I had dared to look back and I saw Kate ordering her hunters to go after us but your father suddenly pulled out a shotgun and gunned all of them down before he was hit with Kate's bullet. He was hit in the chest and I saw him look at me―I saw him shout at me to keep running―so I turned my head... and ran." Talia pauses briefly and shook her head in disappointment. "I'm so disgusted with myself. I should have stopped running. I should have turned around. Maybe if I did, then.. then everything would have been different; you'd be living a completely different life if I had stopped running."

"Talia, you had Derek and the rest of the pact to protect." Stiles reasoned as tears poured down his cheeks. "I know you wanted to help, but.. if you had turned around, you probably would have been killed."

"Maybe that's what would been for the best." Talia murmured and raised her eyes to look up at him. "Derek would have been... fine eventually. He'd have his sisters, Peter, and the rest of the pack. But you? No, you were orphaned, Stiles. You were kidnapped by Kate and placed into a life where you didn't belong; where the truth about who you are was locked away."

The beta sighed and looked down briefly before looking back up at her. "Laura had mentioned that she lost her alpha spark that night? How did that happen?" He asked, suddenly reminding that detail when he first met everyone.

"Oh―yeah, she did end up loosing her alpha spark. To Cora." Talia exhaled and leaned back. "When I was reunited with the rest of the pack, some hunters had ambushed the others and Cora was gravely injured. Her wounds weren't healing and she was coughing up black blood. So Laura did what she thought was the only option; take her pain away. She gave up the alpha spark, her alpha status, to save her sister's life. During that time, she was originally in line to be the next pack alpha but since she had lost her alpha spark, she was no longer in that line; Derek was."

"How did Derek become an alpha?" Stiles asked.

Talia smiled fondly at him. "He went through a lot." She hummed. "Truth be told, I don't really know how he had become alpha... He was a beta for the longest time. But I think after an incident happened, he became an alpha."

"Did he kill one and become an alpha?"

"No." She denied, her smile growing a bit bigger. "He didn't. He hasn't killed a single person. In fact, whenever we're in a pinch, he's always against the idea of murder. He wants to work around it, he wants to use his wit to get everyone out of the situation. But... a couple years ago, there was this powerful alpha that kept trying to hunt me down; he wanted to kill me in hopes of getting the ability to shape-shift completely into a full-fledged alpha form. Derek was nearly killed protecting me. In fact, we were all about to bury him when Peter exclaimed that he could feel a heart beat. We rushed him to Deaton to help with his injuries, but... they weren't healing. I mean, they were but they weren't healing at a werewolf pace. They were healing at a normal human's pace. When Derek awake later that night, he seemed fine so we all just assumed that it was just because he had fought an alpha. However, Derek started saying that his senses were depleting; he couldn't smell anything, his strength was withering. He was loosing his powers and getting weaker. In a rush of panic, we brought him back to Deaton hoping he'd give us some answers. He thought that during the fight with the alpha, he had stolen Derek's werewolf powers and made him human."

"But he's clearly not a human. So that means that somehow he had gotten his powers back." Stiles marveled.

Talia shook her head. "His powers were never gone in the first place." She deflected. Stiles gave her a look of confusion. "He was changing. You see, the power to shape shift into an alpha form is extremely rare. But when you're that kind of a shape-shifter, you're very dangerous. I'm the only shape-shifter like that in the pack. Laura was as well but she, unfortunately, lost that ability when she gave her alpha spark away. So Derek's body was undergoing changes in preparation to become a full shape-shifter. A week later, some hunters ambushed the house. One of us was killed and Derek was shot. It looked like he was going to die and the hunters just kept shooting at us. We really had no way out and honestly, we were accepting our deaths at that point. That's when I saw him; completely shifted into a huge black wolf and I saw his yellow eyes bleed into red as he knocked down a hunter, ripping their shotgun into shreds by a single bite alone. He was terrifying but so beautiful. We only know of one occurrence that we were able to come to about it. Have you ever heard of a True Alpha?"

"Yeah, uh.. they're even more rare than a fully-shifted alpha. A True Alpha occurs like once century. They don't steal their power from alpha, they earn it." Stiles paused in realization, his eyes widening, and spun around to face her. "Derek is a True Alpha?!" He exclaimed. Pride bloomed on the woman's face and she smiled so wide while she nodded quickly.

"He's a True Alpha." She confirmed.

"Holy guacamole." He breathed. "Derek is a True Alpha. Wow―that's so freaking awesome!"

Talia laughed and looked up at the sky. "His father would have been proud." She lamented softly.

Stiles pauses then looks at her with a frown before leaning in a little bit. "He is proud." He corrected. Talia turned her head to him and gave him a sad smile, eyes glistening with tears. He returned her smile and allowed her to bring him into her arms for a consoling hug.

"You're so much like your father." Talia laughed. "So head-strong and fierce. However, he was gentle and caring. He always had this fire in his eye; he explained it as his will to protect. You know, he always said this―Deaton believed him to be some sort of spark. The spark is basically a power used by Druids or emissary's. However, Deaton was my emissary a long time ago and he was never a spark. The spark's man power is belief."

Stiles scoffed a little. "Belief? So if he really thought about it and really believed it, he could have used The Force?"

She shot him a look. "No." She deadpanned. Stiles was actually a little disappointed.

"So then... what can they do?" He drawled in confusion.

She eyed him for a moment. "I don't really know. We don't know a lot of details about sparks and their powers. All I know is that they were a threat to others for some reason." She muttered. Silence fell after that; Stiles debating with himself about what sparks were capable of while Talia observed him, smiling softly to herself as she realized more things about him that reminded her of his father.

"Stiles?" Derek spoke as he walked up the steps. "Sorry if I was interrupting anything but I just remembered something. Did you still wanna talk?"

"Talk?" Stiles parroted, face scrunched up, then gasped in realization. "Oh! Right! Yeah―yeah, we can! Shit―sorry, I had completely forgotten! Uh," he whipped around to face Talia as he stood to his feet. "good talk! Thanks a whole lot! Derek, yeah, let's go to the cottage?" Derek nodded slowly and nodded at his mother before he joined Stiles' side.

"What did you and my mother talk about?" Derek questioned.

"Oh, uh, I asked her about what happened when my parents were killed and stuff. Obviously, my dad somehow survived but you know what I mean." Stiles explained and ducked under a low branch. "I also found out how Laura lost her alpha spark and how you, Mr. Grumpy Cat―"

"―How many times do I have to tell you to not call me that―"

"―became a True Alpha." Stiles finished with a shit-eating grin. Derek paused before letting out a loud sigh.

"She told you?" He whined softly.

"Yeah! It's bad-ass!" Stiles boasted before launching forward to walk ahead of Derek, turning around so he was walking back-wards and facing the alpha as he began to make wild hand gestures. "Think about! You're not only a walking meme but you're also a badass shape-shifting walking meme with wolfiness!!"

Derek squinted at him. "I sometimes wonder why the hell my wolf decided to imprint on you."

"Yeah, I honestly don't see what your wolf sees in me." Stiles laughed. "I'm literally the energizer bunny from hell."

"On steroids." Derek grunted. Stiles snickered and turned around to tug Derek through the rough remainder of the forest before they stumbled upon the cottage. He let go of the alpha and dashed forward to open the door.

"I see you've recovered from earlier." Derek commented as he shut the door behind him.

Stiles sent him a small smirk. "Yeah, a good power nap and I was fine." He replied. Derek made a small hum in return and watched Stiles lean against the wall.

"So what did you want to talk about?" The alpha asked after a beat of silence.

Stiles sighed and folded his arms across his chest. "I just, uh.. I was thinking. About everything. About you imprinting on me when I was young and I―I was wondering if there would.. if there would be a way to undo it."

The reaction was immediate; Derek taking a second to look offended and hurt before he stomped forward. "Undo it?!" He exclaimed. "You want to undo it?!"

The beta gulped. "Yeah." He croaked and quickly looked away from the fuming and hurt alpha standing in front of him. "I just.. Look, Derek, it was a mistake, okay? Your wolf―it clearly needs a whole reality check. I'm not someone you should be with. I'm not a good person. I'm not ideal to anyone and―and your wolf made a mistake when it decided to imprint on me."

Derek made a noise of frustration and paced for a second before shooting forward to grab Stiles' shoulders. "Stiles, what the hell are you even saying right now?! I can't undo this! It's not something to be undone! I have no control over this!"

"How do you know it's something that can't be undone?!" Stiles shouted and squirmed out of his hold. "Derek, I can't be with you! This is not gonna work out―I'm―I'm sorry but I can't!" Derek stared at him for a moment and took a small step back, the hurt fleeting back into his eyes.

"Stiles, you... if you're afraid because of Kate―"

"―That's exactly what I'm afraid of." Stiles hissed and walked past him, running his fingers through his hair. "Kate is coming and she's gonna try to kill all of you, for the umpteenth time I'm assuming, all because of me."

Derek whipped around and eyed him in bewilderment. "Because of you? Stiles, what are you talking about?" When Stiles fell silent, Derek continued. "Stiles, do you actually think she's back because of you? Do you honestly think that since she knows that you're with us, she's gonna come for us and kill you?"

Stiles groaned and buried his face into his hands. "Derek, you don't understand, that's not―"

"―Stiles." Derek growled and stepped forward. "None of this is because of you."

"Yes it is!" Stiles yelled against his hands. "It is. It's my fault. Everything's my fault. You're all gonna die because of me." Derek softened as Stiles' voice cracked and sighed. He slowly made his way over to Stiles and gently turned him around before reaching up to pull Stiles' hands away.

"Stiles." He warned when the other wouldn't let him take his hands away. "Stiles, stop it."

"You don't understand." Stiles whispered. "This is.. this is all because of me."

"No, it's not." Derek insisted and managed to pull Stiles' hands away. "It's not because of you so will you stop it?" Stiles didn't respond, keeping his eyes on the ground as he felt a tear roll down his cheek. "Stiles, look at me. Look at me." Derek lifted his hand to gently grab the boy's chin, lifting his head so that he could look into his whiskey eyes. "My wolf chose you. You get that? It chose you―I chose you." Stiles' lower lip trembled and he opened his mouth to persist but Derek didn't let him. "So whatever you're thinking, whatever you're trying to blame yourself for, stop it. Just knock it off, alright? I know you're scared, Stiles, but.. none of this is your fault. None of it is. Kate and Gerard are psychotic, they have been for a while and that is not your fault. They've been hell-bent since before I was even born. You had nothing to do with that, with any of this."

"Derek." Stiles whispered shakily. Derek lifted his hands and held Stiles' face in them while his thumb gently wiped a stray tear away.

"My wolf chose you." Derek whispered back and looked directly into his eyes. "It chose you, Stiles. It chose you as my life-long mate, my soulmate, my anchor, my everything. So let me, Stiles."

"Let you..?" Stiles trailed off.

Derek walked forward, slowly closing the gap between them. "Love you. Stiles, let me love you." He begged softly. Stiles' eyes widened a little and he opened his mouth to say something. However nothing came out. Nothing but a small noise as Derek dove in and closed the gap between their lips. Stiles furrowed his eyebrows and with shaky hands, he tried to push at the alpha's chest.

I'm not a good person. I'm not, really.

Derek lightly growled against his lips and grabbed Stiles' wrists while backing him up. Stiles let out a soft gasp as he felt his back hit the wall but the gasp was soon swallowed by Derek. The beta couldn't help but whimper a little as Derek slipped his tongue into his mouth. As Derek's tongue brushed against his, he could feel his body slowly stop its fighting. His eyebrows remained furrowed to a firm point as his eyes slowly began to close. His hands fisted the front of Derek's shirt, knuckles turning white, and pulled him closer until he was sandwiched between a warm, built body and the wall. Derek let go of his wrists and let his hands wander down and around Stiles' sides, his hips, and his waist just before he slides them under his thighs. Stiles made a noise of surprise as he was hoisted off of his feet and instinctively wrapped his legs around Derek's waist.

"Let me love you." Derek repeated against Stiles' lips. He carried Stiles over to the bed and laid him down on it before sitting back on his knees. Stiles watched in hesitant admiration as the alpha took off his shirt and tossed it to the side, his eyes scanning the expanse of Derek's firm chest and tight abs.

"And Stiles," Derek spoke and grabbed Stiles' hand just to press it against his stomach. "let yourself love." Stiles looked up at Derek and stared into his eyes while the alpha leaned down to tower over him. Derek cupped Stiles' cheek and leaned down to press their lips together in a soft kiss. It ended a second later and Stiles knew that Derek was giving him a choice in this matter. The hell with it. Stiles shoved his hands into Derek's hair and pulled him into a heated kiss. He couldn't help but moan as their tongues danced, as Derek's hands wondered down his chest and underneath his shirt. Derek pulled back from the kiss only to take a brief second to take off Stiles' shirt. He tossed it to the side and didn't hesitate to begin marking Stiles' neck, liking the sounds that was coming out of the beta's mouth as he nibbled down on to the patch of skin just above his pulse. Stiles squirmed a little and bites down on his bottom lip while his fingers raked through Derek's hair, gripping and pulling gently as he felt the alpha begin to leave a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down his chest.

"Fuck!" He gasped out and threw his head back when Derek latched on to one of his nipples. His breathe hitched loudly and he gasped for air, fingers tightening in their hold on his dark locks and back arching off of the mattress. Derek growled in response and his hands were able to find the zipper of Stiles' jeans. As Stiles could feel his jeans getting tugged, he lifted his hips and his head to watch Derek yank the offending piece of clothing off then toss it behind him. He watched Derek's head move lower down his body, his large hands sliding up and down his thighs, and couldn't help but notice the Triskelion tattoo in the middle of Derek's shoulder blades. He propped himself up on his elbow and reached forward to begin tracing it with his fingertip. The response was almost instant; the way Derek paused in his actions, shuddering breathe hitting Stiles' slightly toned stomach. Derek's back dipped a little as Stiles continued to trace it and the alpha shifted, his back muscles rippling a little while he moaned quietly.

It was his soft spot.

"I don't deserve you." Stiles murmured. Derek said nothing in return and instead dipped his head down. Stiles had no idea what his boxers was left his body―the sneak must have taken them off along with his pants in one single swoop―but he could care less. Derek's palm was wrapped around the back of his already rock hard cock and Stiles keened. He fell back on to the mattress with an embarrassingly loud whine of pleasure as his hand found purchase back into Derek's hair. Derek watched in both fascination and amusement as Stiles writhed and moaned underneath him, his legs parting a little unconsciously. But then he glanced down and eyed the detailed tattoo on Stiles' hipbone. While he kept moving his hand, Derek couldn't help but lean down and begin to make a mark just above the tattoo.

"Derek―oh god! Derek! Fuck!" Stiles babbled between heavy pants, lewd moans, and soft whimpers. All of his noises were driving Derek's wolf crazy. The need to mark, the need to take Stiles' innocence was so strong that Derek was having a hard time controlling himself. Derek pulled back a little bit to admire the dark mark that he had made before going back up and connect their lips once again. Stiles' hands kept switching from clutching on to his biceps versus clutching on to his hair. So Stiles settled with one hand in Derek's hair and the other gripping on to his thick bicep as their lips glided and molded together.

And even as their hands continued to explore throughout the night, the sounds of pleasure floating through the cottage, Stiles found himself enjoying this way too much. Way more than he knew he should be. The fleeting thought of resisting, of stopping all of this came into his head but soon disappeared when their bodies had become one. Stiles knew he couldn't stay away from Derek. It was hard in the beginning but he knew it'd be even harder after this. He just couldn't find the strength to resist him anymore. He wanted this as badly as Derek wanted it. His wolf was naturally drawn to the alpha and he just couldn't stay away.


Stiles awoke the next morning and stared up at the ceiling for a good 10 minutes before deciding to make an effort on actually getting up. His hips and back ached like hell from last night and he could feel it as he dragged himself into the little bathroom they had installed in the cottage. He stared at himself in the mirror, studying all of the hickey's that Derek had left on his body. With a small sigh, he limped his way into the shower and let the warm water hit his skin. Derek was still sound asleep in the bed when he had climbed out of it moments ago and he was quite thankful for that. Stiles didn't want to see him at this particular moment.

"Good talk." Stiles muttered to himself as he lightly banged his forehead against the shower wall. "Good talk, Stiles. You were supposed to tell him, not have sex with him. Good job." Letting out a small groan, he continued to wash his hair then his body before turning off the water. He had just wrapped a towel around his waist when Derek appeared in the bathroom doorway; half-awake and voice a little deeper than usual.

"Did you just wake up?" Derek asked as he approached Stiles, kissing his forehead before he grabbed a toothbrush.

"Yeah." Stiles replied and licked his lips. "Yeah, I just woke up and decided to take a shower." Derek nodded silent and continued brushing his teeth. Stiles walked past him and began get dressed in the clothes that were still laying hap-haphazardly on the floor. As he dressed, his mind wandered and he couldn't help but shake his head in shame.

"Are you doing okay?" Derek asked softly once he exited the bathroom. "You smell... off. Something's bugging you." There was a pause. "Was it because of last night? You regret it, don't you?"

"What?" Stiles exclaimed and lifted his head to look at him. "No! No, of course not!" He quickly put his pants on then rushed over to him. "I don't regret what happened last night." Derek seemed relieved at this and smiled softly at him. "But I do regret one thing."

"Which is?" Derek asked slowly.

The beta sighed softly. "Not telling you what I originally needed to tell you." He nibbled on his bottom lip in thought and glanced up at Derek's confused expression. "You distracted me, okay? Don't give me that look. Anyways, let's get back to the house. I guess I'll have to say it in front of everyone." Derek nodded warily and walked past him to begin getting dressed. "Before it's too late." He muttered the last part to himself. When they had gotten to the house, everyone was already awake; either sitting at the dining table or on the couch in the living-room eating breakfast.

"There you two are!" Peter exclaimed in irritation. "Where did you two wander off to this time?"

"Uh... we were in the cottage." Stiles answered awkwardly.

"The cottage?" Isaac echoed in confusion. "Why were you in the cottage?"

"We were... talking."

"Talking?" Cora snorted around her food. "As if. You two reek of each other."

"You two totally boned, didn't you?" Erica teased with a wide grin as she leaned across the counter.

Stiles squinted. "First off, nice pun. Second off, stop being so observant."

"Anyways," Talia cut in. "there's still plenty of food. So dig in." Derek smiled softly at his mother and walked further into the kitchen to grab his plate. "Stiles?"

"Hm? Oh, I'm, uh.. not hungry." Stiles said. That earned looks of confusion and concern.

"Dude," Boyd grunted. "I can smell the anxiety off of you. What the hell is wrong?"

The beta bites his bottom lip and glanced over at Peter, who looked solemn but nodded anyways. "There's.. something I have to tell you. And it's important, so please don't speak or say anything until I'm done talking." He began. They all shared looks with each other before returning their attention back to Stiles. "Derek had told me a while ago that he thinks it's a coincidence, that it's fate, that I'm here. That this all happened by chance; me getting the bite and showing up at your front door. While, yes, the bite was an accident. I had no plan on turning into a werewolf.. but it's not a coincidence or fate or an accident that I'm here. You see, the hunters have this part in their code; where if a hunter is bitten, they either kill themselves or be executed. When I had gotten bitten, I was supposed to be executed, yes―that is true. But Gerard didn't kill me. He chose to spare me because.. because he wanted me to do something. Because he had a sudden idea.. He wanted me to come here, to come to you all, and.. he wanted me to gain your guys' trust just so that I could get close enough to kill the pack alpha." There was a long beat of silence and before Stiles knew it, he was across the house with a severe pain in his right side. He cried out in pain and covered the wound, feeling his hand fill with his own blood.

"You little―" Derek growled, eyes blood red. His fangs and claws were out, he was half-shifted and charging angrily at Stiles. "I let you in my home!!"

"Derek.. Derek, wait―" Stiles breathed, holding one of his hands up.

"I knew I should have fucking killed you!" Derek was now standing in front of him. "Why did you do this?!" He yelled. Stiles grunted in pain as he shifted and looked up at the alpha, who reached down to grab Stiles' throat when Peter suddenly appeared between them. He grabbed Derek's wrist, twisted it until he heard a crack and let out a loud warning roar into his nephew's face before tossing him back. Derek crashed into the wall behind him with a grunt and took a few seconds to gather himself before he looked down at his wrist. He got to his feet and snapped his wrist back into place and glared at his uncle.

"You're with him?" He snarled. "You dare betray your own family?!"

Peter stepped forward and snarled back. "If you shut the hell up for 5 fucking minutes, then maybe you'd know what the hell is actually going on here!" Derek fell silent and eyed his uncle warily. Peter let out a small huff in annoyance before rushing over to Stiles' side as he heard the beta whimper. He gently lifted Stiles until his back was leaning against the wall and pressed his hands into the deep claw marks that were embedded into his side. Stiles' blood automatically coated his hands and Peter cursed softly under his breathe. The wound was deep.

"Jesus Christ." Isaac exhaled. Derek watched his own beta stalk past him, take off his own shirt, and smack Peter's hands away before pressing the shirt on to the wound. "Fuck―I know it hurts, Stiles. Sorry, bud."

"It's okay. It's okay." Stiles groaned and leaned his head back against the wall as he squeezed one of his eyes shut. Derek took a small step forward as his claws and fangs disappeared and Stiles could smell the different emotions off of him; confusion, hurt, anger, and guilt. He basically wore the emotion guilt right now as he took a hesitant glance at his wound.

"It's alright, Grumpy Cat." Stiles reassured. Derek flicked his eyes back up at him as Erica and Laura also joined Isaac's and Peter's side; Laura grabbing Stiles' hand to try to leech his pain away while Erica offered a towel instead of a shirt. Peter took the shirt away and helped Isaac press it down on to the wound. "I uh.. I deserved that."

"...Stiles―"

"No, no. Let me―let me talk. Please." Stiles muttered and closed his eyes. "When I had arrived here... and I met all of you. And it was completely different from what they all drilled into me at the institute. They all told me you guys were savages. That you were killers. That you were the ones who killed my family during an ambush. That's the kind of lies that I lived with growing up; I was trained to hate you. All of you. But the more.. ah- fuck- the more time I spent with you, the more time I began to disbelieve all of those lies.. Especially when Derek showed me the- the garden and the- the cottage. The flowers my mother planted.. they were all m-messages for me. The journal my dad left behind.. they were all breadcrumbs and I kept.. I kept following the path of breadcrumbs.. Gerard.. Gerard was the one who ordered Kate to kill my parents when he discovered they helped shelter you. My parents, who were under the belief that none of you deserved to die because of something you didn't do, sheltered you knowing that it would be risking their lives." Stiles panted and opened his eyes only to discover that Talia was now bent down in front of him, eyebrows furrowed and looking at him with a heart-broken expression. "Talia.. you and my mother were close.. It's not your fault. So please stop blaming yourself for her death.. She went down willingly. She went down protecting your son. Peter... Peter knew for a while and he was angry, like you all are. But he listened to my phone-calls. He listened to me.. t-to me talking to Scott and he listened to me beginning to doubt. He listened to all of it.."

"I listened and I watched him switch sides." Peter spoke up. "I watched his loyalty switch from Gerard to us." He was about to continue when Stiles' phone went off. With a small grunt, Stiles dug his hand into his pocket and reads the text message. He squeezed his eyes shut and sighed in regret before shoving his phone back into his pocket.

"Help me up." He said softly. Peter seemed hesitant but the 4 of them helped Stiles back up to his feet. Isaac held his arm with one hand and the other was placed on his back to keep him balanced while Erica kept the towel against his wound.

"That was Gerard." Stiles announced and everyone stiffened. "He wants me to kill Talia. Right now." He turned his head and looked out of the window. "The hunters.. they're all not that far from here. And I'm sure Gerard has a bone to pick with me for killing his daughter.."

"So.. what do we do?" Erica whispered in fear.

Stiles looked at the blonde beta with a small smile. "Run. Like planned." He replied. Erica looked up at him with wide eyes. "To the loft, to the secret bunker. You all have to- you all have to run. Now."

"What about you?" Isaac asked hesitantly. "Stiles, we can't just―"

"Peter." Stiles called out and looked up at the alpha. Peter stared at him before sighing then tugging Erica and Isaac away. Both betas immediately began to protest but the alpha continued to drag them away, barking orders for everyone to haul their asses out of the house and to the loft.

"Go." Stiles said when Derek remained. "Derek, you need to go."

"Stiles―"

"Go!!" Stiles yelled and tears pooled into his eyes. "Derek, I.. I'm so sorry. Last night.. I didn't mean for it happen but I don't regret it. I don't regret it. But don't- don't make this harder. You need to go. You need to go and be with your pack. You all need to live. Growing up.. I was told stories about the Hale pack and what they did to the hunters. I was manipulated.. I was told lie after lie after lie as I grow up and now? Now I feel like my entire life has been a lie.. They're coming, Derek.. they're coming and they'll be launching a all-out attack on this place. It's not just my group of hunters, it's the entire institution. There's going to be way too many of them against way too few of you guys and I can't- I can't let you guys die. I can't let them kill any more of you. I'm sorry- god I'm so fucking sorry. But you- you all need to go. You all need to leave right now and get out of here, go to the loft and get into the secret bunker. Peter knows where it is, he'll lead you to it. Don't worry about me, I'll handle it. I'll distract them for as long as I can and I won't give them any answers, I promise. Just let me do this.. let me redeem myself." Derek stared for a moment longer before he looked over at Peter, who was yelling at him to get going from outside. He turned back to look at Stiles and then he was gone. Stiles let out a couple sobs as he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. He looked down at the towel against his wound and let out a breathe; using his hand to balance himself against the wall as he walked towards the door. They were all long-gone by the time he got outside and collapsed on to the stairs. As he sat there, he glanced down at the towel again before tossing it to the side. Stiles then leaned back against the stairs and let out a deep breathe. He didn't know how long he was laying there waiting but he eventually saw a couple vans making their way over. He watched the hunters close in on him from pretty much all directions, guns aimed directly at him.

"Glad you all showed up for the party." Stiles cheered sarcastically. "Sadly, I forgot the balloons." Gerard stepped out from one of the vans, looking angry beyond belief. "Oh, look. The guest of honor."

"You think you're slick?" Gerard growled as he made his way over to him. "Killing a hunter then killing my daughter?!"

"You think you're slick by ordering your daughter to kill my family?" Stiles shot back heatedly. "It's pay back, asshole. Deal with it."

Gerard growled in anger. "Where are they?!" He yelled. "Where are the Hales?!"

"Long gone." Stiles drawled and eyed him with a small smirk. "I sent them away to a location you'll never know of."

"We'll see about that. Restrain him. He's coming with us." Gerard ordered and a few hunters stepped forward. Stiles allowed himself to be restrained and grabbed roughly before getting shoved into the back of a van. He gave a small, experimental tug on the chains and chuckled a little.

"I see you upgraded your stuff with wolfsbane. Smart." He commented and leaned back. Gerard glared as Stiles stared him down in triumph. "But no matter how much you torture me, I won't even give you the liberty of hearing my screams. You won't get anywhere near them. That I promise you."

Chapter Text

"I admire your determination but we'll get you to talk eventually." Gerard warned as he leaned back in his chair. "I got all night for this."

Stiles let out a small chuckle that was mixed in with his ragged and heavy pants. "Yeah? Well, so do I. Don't get your hopes up." He mocked. Gerard narrowed his eyes at the wolf. "Besides, you and I both know that no matter what method you use and no matter what you say to me... I'll never talk. You won't get shit from me."

They had been doing this hours. Maybe days, he's not sure. He's lost track of time. But ever since Gerard restrained him and hauled him into that van, he's been demanding answers; demanding the whereabouts of the Hale pack. However, Stiles stuck true to his word and hasn't said a single thing to them. He won't even give Gerard the pleasure of hearing his screams as they tortured him in the basement. Even though Stiles had a hunch that he might die because of this. The wound on his side from Derek wasn't showing signs of healing and they had placed a patch on to the entirety of the wound and the patch had wires sewn into it; wires leading all the way to a small machine that had two knobs on it. It was a typical electricity torture device that the Argents use. Currently, Stiles had his arms chained above him from his place against a firmly holding fence that also channeled the electricity. He was bloody and dirty from new wounds and from the dirt that he was dragged along. However despite Gerard being seriously demanding about an answer, Stiles can see right through him.

"You're threatened by me." Stiles observed with a small smirk. "You're threatened by what I've become.. by what's going to happen."

"They're not going to come back for you." Gerard jabbed.

But Stiles merely laughed despite his ribs aching. "Oh, I don't doubt that. Especially since I told them not to." He hummed softly and leaned his head back against the wall as he eyed the Argent. "You're usually two steps ahead of us, Gerard. You usually predict things like this to happen. But I can see you slipping. You're afraid."

Gerard growled in anger and shot up so fast from his chair that he knocked it over. "You shut your mouth!" He raged. "I raised you! I gave you life—"

"—Your psychotic bitch of a daughter killed my parents and kidnapped me!!" Stiles' shout cut the older male off. "You didn't 'give me life'! You took it from me! The Hales may not come but you know who will?! What, did you not think I knew about the fact that you've got incurable cancer and that my dad is alive and is hunting your old ass down?!" The beta shot forward and let the chains hold him back but he felt a sense of pride run through him at Gerard's jolt. "He's coming for you, you piece of shit. You'll get what you deserve." Gerard inhaled through his nose and lightly shook his head.

"You know, Stiles, you're right. The cancer has spread throughout my body and God knows how long I've got left. But you," he pointed at the wolf and hissed angrily. "you will not get the liberty of getting to watch me die. Because you will be dead before then." Gerard stomped forward and got into Stiles' face. "You killed my daughter."

"She had it comin'." Stiles gritted out. "The bitch killed my mother." Gerard raised his hand and strikes Stiles across the face. His head turned at the impact but he chuckled softly, spit out some blood, before turning his head to look at him smugly.

"Guess you should never underestimate your enemies." He taunted.

Gerard let out a small hum and leaned back. "You put 20 of my hunters in the hospital." He pointed out. "5 of them are now in their graves."

"Guess your goal of training me into a killer worked." Stiles continued to taunt and it was seemingly working as he saw Gerard grit his teeth a little at him. "Did you honestly not expect me to find out about everything? Given with the stuff that happened in the past between our families—come on, Gerard, I thought you'd be smarter than this but really, you're just severely dumb. I mean, you literally placed me into the hands of the people that my family sheltered, the same people who were under the assumption that I had been killed as well. Then they show me and tell me about a whole bunch of things and you know what? I believe them. I believe every single word they say. You? Not so much."

"Will you believe me if I said that you will die at my hands?" Gerard hissed.

Stiles' grin widened a little. "Now that I believe." He replied. Gerard seemed a little puzzled at his response. "If I have to die to seal the safety of the people I care about, then so be it. But I will die with dignity and I will die knowing that you still had no idea where they are. I will die knowing that I've done the right thing."

"You know what," a hunter who was busy standing guard had seemingly gotten tired of this and began advancing towards him. "I'm getting seriously sick of this guy. You think you're so smug and all that, don't ya? You think you're gonna win this round? Let me tell you this; I watched your whore of a mother die in a pool of her own blood." Stiles narrowed his eyes at the hunter and felt his muscles tense. "Yeah, that's right. I was there with Kate the night she died. I watched Kate put bullet after bullet after bullet into your mother's chest. I watched how she choked on her own blood and I watched—" With a sharp yell, Stiles launched forward and broke free from his restraints. The hunter's eyes widened as Stiles slammed into him and landed a mean right swing straight to his jaw. Stiles whipped his head up as he saw more hunters rushing towards him and growled, his eyes flashing a vibrant yellow color. He grabbed one of their shotguns by the barrel and slammed it back, hearing the handle of the gun break the hunter's nose, before ducking down as another hunter swung at him with a sword. He raised a leg and kicked the hunter down before yanked the shotgun out of their hold. Stiles cocked the shotgun and shot it twice at two advancing hunters before he ran out of ammo. With a small groan of irritation, he spun the shotgun around his trigger finger and used it to land a harsh undercut to different hunter. He stood panting with the empty shotgun in his hand as he glared a visibly shaken Gerard. Stiles went to step forward but then a sharp pain flared up his thigh. He hissed in pain as the blow sent him down to his knee but before he could even react or turn around, he was restrained by some other hunters that had rushed into the room upon hearing the commotion.

"You're one ruthless son of a bitch." One of the hunters growled into his hair before they hauled him up to his feet. The pain was still radiating his thigh and Stiles knew had gotten shot but paid no mind to it as he was slammed against the wall that he was originally held against. Some of the hunters focused on holding him still while the others worked on putting the restraints back on him.

"We will get you to talk." Gerard spoke as he straightened himself. "One way or another." With one final click, the restraints were back on him, tighter than last time, and they all turned to begin leaving the room or pick up the fallen hunters.

"One more thing." Stiles called out just before Gerard could leave the threshold and smirked down at the bodies of the hunters. "Make that 25." Gerard glared at him before he quickly turned and left the room.


 With a small sigh, he leaned back in his chair just as he placed a packet off to the side for it to join another big pile of paperwork. He had only a small stack to go but even so, he'd been doing this for hours. His neck, his back, his eyes, his wrists and fingers, even his ass hurt from sitting in the already uncomfortable chair for hours on end. To do what? Paperwork. Of course. Of course he'd be assigned to do paperwork as the rookie of the station.

"You need some more coffee?" A fellow officer offered and he glanced up before sending a small, grateful smile over to this fellow colleague.

"Thanks but no thanks. If I have another cup of coffee, I might just throw up." He replied. The female officer smiled at him from her desk and laughed quietly.

"Then you need some food, Parrish." She teased lightheartedly. Parrish couldn't help but smile a little before he rubbed his face.

"A good burger sounds great right now." He hummed. "But I doubt the Sheriff will let me leave for my break."

She gave him a look and leaned forward a little, her name-tag glinting. Deputy Smith. "Parrish, we have vending machines in the lounge. I can go grab you something." She offered.

But Parrish shook his head. "No, it's fine. I need to get up for a second and stretch before I go to the Sheriff." At his reply, she narrowed her eyes at him. "What?"

"You think you can convince him to take you off paperwork duty?" She asked.

"I hope I can." Parrish whined slightly as he got to his feet; joints letting out noises and muscles screeching a little as he stretched. "Besides, I do have to talk to him about something anyways. Kept putting it off but I'm tired of it." Smith gave him a confused look but he just smiled slightly at her before he made his way over to the Sheriff's office. He knocked on the door before opening it once he got the okay.

"Parrish?" The Sheriff exclaimed a little. "Are you done with the paperwork already?"

Parrish shot him a look. "Not even close." He deadpanned. "I just needed a break, sir." He shuts the door behind him and lets out a long sigh. "Look, boss, I just needed to talk to you about something."

The Sheriff sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Parrish, we already talked about it. My answer is no."

"I'm not taking a no as answer." Parrish growled and slammed his hands down on to the Sheriff's desk. "You need me out there, Sheriff. You need me by your side. You need my help. That's what partners do."

"I can't risk having this go side-ways—"

"—So you decide to go in there alone?!" Parrish whisper-yelled. "No offense, boss, but are you stupid?!" The Sheriff gave him an offended look. "Do you not realize who and what you're dealing with?!"

"Parrish, I get that you're still trying to settle in." His boss exhaled. "Romulus is a very small town compared to New York City."

"This has nothing to do with where I came from." Parrish leaned back and eyed the Sheriff. "It's about your son." The Sheriff stiffened. "I know what you're planning. I know what you've been doing. And I know why you're angry. But you can't go in there alone. If Gerard is capable enough to do all of this and then some, then you need some major help when you go in there."

Sheriff Stilinski shook his head and leaned back in his chair as he observed his partner. "And what help could you possibly loan me, Parrish? Gerard is a Argent, a very skilled hunter, and he's got the Sealgairs with him. I have Chris as an ally but what could you possibly do?" He badgered. Parrish narrowed his eyes at him before folding his arms across his chest. Stilinski gasped quietly and sat up in his chair as he watched Parrish's eyes glow the color of fire.

"Have you ever heard of a Hellhound, Sheriff?" Parrish began. "According the bestiary and similarly to the banshee, I am the Harbinger of Death, the Bearer of Death and Guardian of the Supernatural. You need me out there with you. Chris is a mighty hunter, I'll give him that. But you need a little bit of... something else to win this fight."

Stilinski was silent for a while. "So you're telling me that you're a... hellhound?" He spoke slowly. Parrish nodded. "And you want to help me get my son back? My son who is.. in Beacon Hills, on the other side of the U.S.?" His partner nodded again and Stilinski groaned quietly, rubbing his face before shooting up out of his chair. "Fine. Alright, ya happy?"

Parrish grinned at him. "Delighted." He basically purred. "So, when do we all head out?" Stilinski bites down on his bottom lip in thought. "The sooner the better, right?"

"Tonight. We can leave tonight. I'll book the flights. You," Stilinski pointed a finger at him. "go home and pack. I'll give you the time and place for you to meet me and Christ at." He ordered. Parrish nodded and turned to leave the office. As he made his way back over to his desk, he saw Smith giving him a bewildered look.

"Oh my god." She gasped. "Did you seriously get off of paperwork duty?!"

Parrish smiled and gathered his things. "More or less." He replied. She let out a shocked noise, mouth agape, as she sunk in her chair.

"Which means... as the second newest recruit, I have to finish it." she spoke after a moment of self-loathing. Parrish barked out a laugh, sent her a good luck wink (in which she flipped him off for), before leaving the station.

2 weeks earlier

It was a cold night today. It had rained all day and no one really seemed to be in a jolly mood, especially Sheriff Stilinski. He was just clocking out for the day and making his way out of the station, giving everyone a soft, sad smile as he made his way out. He never spoke much about it but he knew that they all knew. They knew what today was, what the day April 8th meant to him. It was Stiles' birthday. The kid would have been 18 today if it wasn't for—

The Sheriff let out a small groan and lightly smacked himself on his cheek in an effort to get his shit together. He shook his head a little and decided to just focus on the road, focus on getting home.

Ever since the incident that happened 18 years ago, Noah has been very firm on trying to suppress the memory of it into the back of his head. He had lost of his wife. He had lost his son. All because of Kate fucking Argent and her equally as psychotic father Gerard. All because he and Claudia had taken the risk to shelter the Hale pack. It was repulsing that the Argents were so willing to kill innocent lives to get their way. It was maddening, it was sickening. He had lost his family, for God's sake—everyone he loved so dearly were just... taken from him so easily. And to be honest, he didn't quite know how he himself had survived. He remembered getting shot in the chest and it burning a whole lot more than it should have. He remembered the love of his life dying in front of him. He remembered the last thing he heard before everything had went back; Stiles sobbing bloody murder from his room upstairs. Most of all, he remembered waking up in a god damn hospital room. The nurses had to nearly sedate him when he went into panic mode; demanding to know where he was, how he had gotten there, and how the ever-loving fuck did he survive a gun-shot to the chest.

His neighbors. Of course they heard the gunshots and called 911.

John slowed down and took a right turn into the driveway of home. Romulus was a very small town in upstate New York. Small enough that 'if you blinked, you'd miss it'. It didn't even have a gas station or even a working grocery shop. Both of those were in the next town over and thankfully, it was only about 15 minutes away, but still. It was a small town. Which meant everyone knew each other. So the Sheriff was adamant on keeping to himself. Barely saying hello to his neighbors, refusing to make friends or even get close to that cute woman that works at the grocery market.

But then was Parrish, his assigned partner at the station. He remembered the first day he laid eyes on the kid when he first walked through the doors last week. Parrish was tall, broad, and a little sheepish and shy but confident in the line of duty. He had served, just like John did, so he naturally felt like he could get along with the fellow. But with his goal to not get close with anyone, he had given Parrish the cold shoulder for the first few days. But then an incident had happened and he found himself unbearably protective over his partner. For some reason, one of the deputies went rogue and set Parrish's cruiser on fire. With him still in it. John remembered that day so clearly; when Parrish strolled into the station covered in soot and dirt, his entire uniform burnt except for his pants (which more looked like jagged capris). Parrish had charged the deputy who was responsible for trying to kill him and it took 5 other officers to get the vet off of him. When questioned about the incident, Parrish said he had no idea how he had even survived the fire but John had gotten a strange vibe from him; it seemed that Parrish knew why he survived and he knew what he was but wasn't about to go out and say it.

If he was a supernatural creature, then John could handle it. The reality of werewolves had shaken him up a little when he was young but he always had known that there was more than just werewolves out in the world.

John had barely just settled down at the kitchen table with a bottle of Jack Daniel's in hand when someone knocked on the door. At first he ignored it and poured himself a small glass of whiskey. He had chugged it down when a second, more urgent knock sounded through the home.

"Can't you leave a man in peace?" John called out solemnly. "Let me mourn by myself." There was silence for the next minute and Noah had figured that whomever came had left. So he poured himself another glass and chugged it down only to startle with there was another pound on the door. With a confused and irritated frown, he shot up out of his chair and stomped over to his door.

"Are you deaf?" He snarled before swinging open the door. "I said to..." His voice trailed off as he took in the sight of Parrish and a bearded male standing in front porch. "...who the fuck are you? Parrish, what the hell?"

"Sorry, sir. He came to the station looking for you earlier." Parrish seemed a little sheepish at this. "He wanted me to take him to you." He explained quietly. John gave him a 'we'll talk about this later' look before shifting his attention back to the bearded, stern-looking male.

"Who the fuck are you?" He repeated. "How do you know about me?"

The male didn't waver by the tone John was using. "My name is Chris. Chris Argent." He spoke. Silence. John shifted to shut the door in the bastard's face but then a foot stuck out, stopping the door before it could close.

"Boss, he said something about your son." Parrish reasoned.

Pausing, John frowned before swinging the door open. "My son is 6 foot under. Buried in Beacon Hill's cemetery along with his mother. His 18th birthday is today and he barely lived to be a week old. What could you possibly tell me about my son?" He spat.

"Your son is still alive." Chris retaliated. John looked back and forth between Parrish and Chris before stepping aside to let them in. They walked in, took off their shoes and coats in silence before following John into the kitchen.

"Alright, Argent," John gritted and sat himself down into a chair at the table. "you have some explaining to do."

Chris sighed quietly and pulled out a large envelope then slides it across the table towards John. "He's been alive all this time, Sheriff. Hidden from view." He began. With a hesitant glance at Parrish, John reached for the envelope and opened it. Pictures. There were pictures in the envelope of his son. "When my sister, Kate, invaded your home that one night, she hadn't realized that there was a newborn upstairs until she heard loud crying. Originally, she went up to kill your son but when she realized that he was merely an infant, she took him." John's frown deepened and tears flooded his eyes as he flipped through the pictures of his son all grown up; tall with a fair complexion, whiskey brown eyes, dark hair with bangs that was spiked up a little, and moles dotting along his skin. He seemed... lively and beautiful. "He's been living at the institute after she kidnapped him, home-schooled that no one else knew about him. He was trained to be a hunter for several years. But today, something happened. We always have a Coming of Age hunt for those who just turn 18. They're allowed to go for their first hunt and Gerard assigned Stiles to go hunt a rogue alpha that was killing a lot of people in Beacon Hills. He went with Scott, another hunter and his close friend, and Allison, my daughter and Scott's girlfriend. Stiles had been bitten by the rogue alpha before he killed it." John shot his head up and looked up at Chris with wide-eyes. "When he had went to the institute, Gerard spared him and gave him the mission of earning the Hale's trust and to kill their pack alpha."

"Talia." John murmured. Chris nodded slowly with a quiet sigh. "So... then why are you here?"

"Because this is bullshit." Chris deadpanned. John's eyebrows shot up and he looked at Parrish, who seemed equally as surprised by his bluntness. "This whole thing is bullshit. I can't stand the audacity my family has."

"Yeah, from what I hear," Parrish walked around Chris and towards John so he could see the photos of Stiles. "they're not exactly friendly people. If they have enough balls to pull this kind of stuff off, then I imagine they have a lot of enemies." He scoffed.

Chris nodded. "Indeed, we do have a lot of enemies." The Argent pauses briefly before stepping forward, placing his hand on the table. "I came forward to offer my help, Sheriff. Your son is alive. We can go there now and get him out of there."

"How do you know that my son will even want to see me?" John dared to ask. "How do you know what they've been telling him all of his life? They could be telling him a completely different story on what had happened."

"You're right, they did tell him a different story on what had happened." Chris admitted. "The story they told him was that you, your wife, and some other hunters were ambushed by the Hale pack. That they had killed you and your wife."

"They're psychotic." Parrish huffed in disbelief. "And then there's Kate."

"Then there's Kate." Chris echoed in exhausted agreement before folding his arms across his chest. "I figured out about her treachery a couple of days ago. She was acting... off. She had called me and asked about what was going on in the institute, like she knew something was about to happen... She had mentioned something about the Stilinski's—something about them being weak-minded and a nuisance. She's always been arrogant like this but her words threw me off. Later, I investigated into the incident that happened at your home. I had gotten into touch with your old neighbors and asked if they had recalled what had happened on that night. Most of them don't remember. But then again most of them have been laid to rest since then. But there was one who recalled the incident; Matt, a boy that's a few years older than Stiles. He was around 5 when he saw the incident happen. Matt said that he was playing with his friend up in his room when they began hearing all of the gunshots and the screams. They had looked out of the window and saw a woman with blonde hair carrying a hysteric infant in her arms." John clenched his fists, crumbling the photo of Stiles in his hands. "When I confronted her about it the next day, she claimed she had no idea what she was talking about. But when I brought up the evidence, photo and video evidence of her being there, she hung up on me. When I tried calling her back, she had blocked me completely."

Parrish tossed one of the photos down on to the table and gave him a small look. "So you're telling us that Stiles is now a werewolf and he's out there with the task of killing the pack alpha?" He questioned.

"It's not just that." Chris countered. "Kate is going to be coming back to Beacon Hills." It was silent for a moment and Chris watched the realization hit the two officers, who both exchanged shocked expressions before whipping their heads back to face Chris.

"She still plans on killing the Hales." Parrish gasped.

The Argent nodded sadly. "Exactly. And I really don't think she'll hesitate when she sees Stiles. Actually, I think it might just fuel her to do it. I mean, he is a werewolf now and she's very, uh... thrilled about killing werewolves."

John turned his attention away and looked at a framed photo of Claudia. "Yeah, I know that all too well." He lamented.

Parrish frowned and gently squeezed the Sheriff's shoulder. "What do you suppose we do then?" He asked and looked up at the hunter. "There's no way we can't do nothing."

"I know that. I was hoping I could be of some help." Chris stepped forward and pulled out a chair, sitting down in it across from John. "We have to go back to Beacon Hills. We have to stop Gerard and we have to stop Kate. We have to save your son, save Stiles, and we have to protect the Hale pack." He declared.

"I thought you were a hunter." John pointed out, wary if he could trust the man. "How I could I know you're not here on Gerard's behalf?"

"You have every right to be suspicious over me. But your son? Claudia? The members of the Hale pack that had fallen? All of those innocent people who were killed just because they crossed paths with them even if it was just briefly? It's not right. Kate stopped obeying by the code, Gerard is starting to abandon the code. This is all too maddening, it's crazy." Chris groaned and rubbed his chin, fingers lightly gripping his beard. "They're family... but this has gotten way out of control. I don't even know if I can even look at Kate the same way anymore. Not after what she's done."

"Sir," Parrish whispered. "if I had ever been told that my son was still alive after being presumably dead, I'd go to heaven, hell and back just to get to him." John nibbled on his bottom lip and looked down at the last photo of Stiles. Stiles was sitting at a desk, pencil in hand and black-rimmed glasses sitting neatly on the bridge of his nose. He was wearing a simple white t-shirt and grey sweats but it was the pendant around his neck that made John's heart lurch. It was the same pendant that John had worn all those years. His black bangs were spiked away from his forehead and John could practically play connect-the-dots with his moles that dotted along his cheek, jaw, and neck. Stiles was seemingly studying; with a few books, a notebook, and a Redbull can sitting on the desk with him. Behind him sat Stiles' dresser. A framed photo of John and Claudia was sitting on top of it.

John licked his lips and reached up to wipe away the tears. "Alright, Chris Argent. I accept your help." He complied and looked up at the male. "But we need a plan and man power if we decide to go storming into that place."

"I couldn't agree more." Chris answered with a small smile on his lips. "I'll take some time to gather some allies or anyone who would be willing to help. I'll keep you updated with anything and everything that I find." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small business card before handing it to Noah. He patted Noah's shoulder, shared looks with Parrish, before he slipped on his shoes and coat then left the home.

It was silent before Parrish spoke up. "He looks just like her." He pointed out.

And John smiled through the tears as he touched the photo. "Damn right he does."

Present

By the time John had reached his home, there was already a care waiting in his driveway. He groaned as he realized it was Parrish and Chris Argent but welcomed both of them into his home anyways.

"I found out about something." Chris began and John knew this wasn't going to be good. "After we had raided the institute a couple of days ago, Kate had returned to Beacon Hills just like I predicted."

Parrish groaned as he plopped his dufflebag on to the table. "Great. Now we have to deal with her then." He complained before opening the bag.

"Actually, we don't." Chris deflected. Both males stopped what they were doing to look at him. "She had led an ambush on the Hale pack yesterday and attacked Stiles and Derek... She died at Stiles' hands." The officers shared looks.

"Well, personally, I don't know whether to grab a celebratory shot of whiskey or tell you me condolences." John commented awkwardly with a small wince. Chris' lips formed a thin line and he nodded slowly.

"While she's a psychotic killer, in the end, she's still family. She's still someone you grew up with. So, I'm sorry for your loss." Parrish quietly spoke and squeezed his shoulder. Chris nodded gratefully at him then sighed, running his hand along his head anxiously.

"But; more bad news." Chris continued hesitantly and flicked his eyes up to John. "I had to rush here to get to you as fast as possible. The flight nearly had gotten cancelled but—John—Gerard's got your son. He wanted Stiles to kill Talia but apparently, Stiles had grown very close to the Hales and is even a confirmed mate to Derek. So when Gerard reached out to him for him to continue with the mission, Stiles refused and told them about everything. He had managed to get the Hale pack out of there to a location that no one knows about and Gerard kidnapped him to torture him for answers."

"Fuck." John breathed, eyes slightly wide. "We need to get there. And we need to get there now."

Chris nodded eagerly. "Yeah, I got some help. I ran into an old friend of yours on my way back. He should be here any moment." He announced. John's eyebrows furrowed in confusion and they all looked up when the front door opened. John immediately reached for his pistol as he quietly walked over to the entrance.

"Hello." Deaton greeted once John came into view. "It's been a while, old friend." John let out a breathe and quickly put his gun back into the holster before rushing forward. Deaton laughed as they embraced tightly.

"It's so good to see you!" John exclaimed and pulled back to hold him at arms length. "How've you been?!"

"I've been good." Deaton leaned in a little to speak softer to him, smiling widely. "Got that job I always wanted. I'm now my own boss at my own vet clinic." He boasted. John smiled so wide it hurt and clapped his friend on the back. "And John? I even saw your son. Yeah! Yeah, I know right? I had the same reaction you did! I was so startled when I saw him on the examiners table. When Kate had ambushed him, he had gotten gravely injured and his wounds weren't healing so Talia took him to me for help. He looks just like her, John. Just like her."

John smiled through the tears and reached up to hug his best friend once more. "Yeah, he does, doesn't he?" He chuckled.

"He's got such fire in him, you should have seen it." Deaton continued as they separated again, John leading him to Parrish and Chris. "So much sass, so much resilience in him. He was strong-willed and stubborn, just like you Noah!"

"He's very remarkable." Chris joined with a small smile. "I had the liberty of meeting him a couple of times. He's very skilled when it comes to combat but even more so with a bow and arrow. Deaton's right; he's got a lot of sass on him. The kid's lethal."

The Sheriff laughed. "Makes me wanna meet him even more."

"So what do we do now that Gerard's got him?" Parrish questioned. "Oh, where are my manners? I'm Parrish. Jordan Parrish. I'm John's partner." At this, Deaton's eyebrows sky-rocketed and Parrish could feel the tips of his ears turn beat red.

"My partner at the station." John clarified. Deaton's lips formed an 'o' shape and he nodded curtly. Parrish remained embarrassed while Chris let out a small, amused chuckle.

"Anyways," John deterred them from the embarrassment. "I booked flights to Beacon Hills and if we head out now to New York City, we'll make it in time for the next flight at JFK." Chris nodded and Parrish immediately zipped his dufflebag back up.

"Let's go save your son."


 

Derek didn't know how long he'd been standing there, staring at the door like he was expecting something. Like he was expecting someone to just stroll up and knock on it. They'd been in the secret bunker that Stiles had given Peter knowledge about for at least 2 days now, he's not sure. The only thing he's sure about is the fact that he misses Stiles. His wolf has been pacing ever since Stiles had sent them away but he was still angry, still hurt over what Stiles had done. He wasn't sure if he should even believe Peter when his uncle stood up to protect and defend Stiles every time of the angered pack members spoke up about him. Peter would get so angry every time someone spoke against Stiles. Talia had eventually explained that Peter was only protective over him because Claudia had given him the godparent position; that Peter felt it was his responsibility to protect the kid even with his parents long-gone. That Peter is just angry at himself for failing to keep that promise.

"You're staring at the door like you're expecting him to show up." Laura lightly teased as she walked over to him. Derek didn't spare her a glance and remained silent. His sister sighed. "Derek, come on. You know he was just trying to—"

"To what?" Derek cut in. "Kill us? That's exactly what he was trying to do. He had a mission to earn our trust and kill Talia—our mother, Laura. He was sent here on purpose."
                                                                                                          
"And they were a fool to send him." Laura declared firmly. Derek turned his head and gave her a confused look. "Did they honestly think we wouldn't tell him about all of this? About the truth? They were dumb and blind. Clearly, Gerard didn't think this through." Derek made a face and nodded in agreement. "But if really was trying to kill us, don't you think he would have done it by now?"

Derek sighed deeply. "You have too much faith in people. What makes you think he's still not on Gerard's side? That he's not over there plotting against us right at this moment—ow!" He yelped when Laura smacked his head. "What the-" He halted his words as he noticed her angry glare.

"Derek Hale." She hissed. Derek couldn't help but flinch a little. "I could murder you right now. Do you have such little faith in Stiles?! In your mate?!" He opened his mouth to speak but she didn't let him. "If you stopped being such a fucking asshole, then you would have actually taken a second to listen to his heartbeat and smell the chemo-signals! His heart was beating really fast and he smelled of anxiety, of guilt, of sorrow, of regret. But most of all? He smelt of love. To you, Derek. Stiles is as true as he can be and you attacked him." She reached up and pushed him hard, making him stumble back. "I get that you're angry—I admit, I am too. But he was true in his words, you prick. If you got your head out of your ass, you would have understood his situation, his confusion. He just found out about Kate, about Gerard, about the truth that happened, about his father still being alive, and you were the first one to lay a hand on him. As his mate, I thought you would have known better than that. I thought you would have had more respect to listen and pay attention instead of going back to the way our father used to be."

Derek gave her a withered look. "He killed practically everything that moved, Laura." He deadpanned.

"And if you weren't a True Alpha, I know damn well you'd be just like him. In fact, you really are just like him." She growled. Derek actually felt a little offended by that. "Sure, he was our father and he raised us, but you know how he was. He didn't exactly treat mom right and he would often say that he wanted to kill humans 'just for the fun of it'. He launched at any opportunity and didn't care about consequences, didn't care about stopping to think or stopping to really look at the situation. I saw him in you the moment you launched at Stiles without a second of hesitation. I get you're pissed off. We all are. But you know what we're mad at? Not Stiles. Er, well, some of us are but the rest of us aren't. Veronica and Ian never really liked Stiles anyways and they're the only ones talking shit..."

"He'll die out there." Cora joined. They both turned to look at her. "Stiles. He's going to die." Derek felt his heart plummet at this. "I've been... focusing on his heart beat even though he's all the way at the institute. It'll spike every now and then but I'm assuming that it's just with adrenaline." She pauses and her frown deepens. "But a little while ago it started to get... weaker. Slower." Derek immediately straightened as his eyes widened a little. Cora swallowed thickly and looked down. "It's getting slower, Derek..."

"What are we supposed to do?!" Derek called out desperately. "Storm into the institute with just—just fangs and claws?! There are way too many hunters in that big of a place! We won't stand a chance!"

"Not by ourselves, we won't." Peter tutted. "But, I think we won't be alone for much longer." Derek shot his uncle a look of confusion before they all turned when the secret door began to open. In stumbled a desperate looking Allison, a distraught looking Scott and 4 other males in tow behind them. The Hales immediately straightened at the sight of the hunters and the 3 unfamiliar faces.

"So," John began as he looked around at all of there faces. "I heard you guys need some help to rescue my son."

Chapter Text

Derek didn't expect to see Stiles' father in such a long time - and apparently, his mother was equally as stunned as he was. But then everything got really tense really quickly―everyone drawing out their claws and growling―at the sight of hunters and the unfamiliar faces. Everybody was already on edge and on guard now that Gerard is even more hellbent than he was a while ago, but for some ballsy hunters to show up at the door with some unfamiliar faces in tow behind them? Clearly, it's a death wish.

"What the hell do you think you're doing here?" Derek hissed out angrily as he stomped forward, half-shifted and eyes piercing red as he glared at the young couple in front of him. "You have a lot of balls coming here, especially with strangers."

"We mean no harm." John insisted as he stood between the raging alpha and the couple. "You and Scott had met briefly at Deaton's vet clinic, yes? We had managed to get a hold of each other a little while ago and told him to bring us here. To you guys."

"It's so good to see you." Peter gasped out as he walked forward with open arms. John perked up at the familiar face and hugged him before accepting another hug from Talia. "But why would you come here, John? I mean, I know why but.. why?"

John pauses briefly and the shift in the air was palpable. "Well, Scott and Allison.. they had contacted me first with really bad news." He explained and glanced over at Scott. The dam broke at that point and Allison began to down-right sob her heart out, nearly collapsing as her knees gave out if it wasn't for a stern looking bearded man to hold her up and hug her to his chest. Scott could no longer fight the tears as he stepped slowly towards Derek.

"It's Stiles." Scott started. There was a hush silence. "I... there's... there's nothing we could have done to stop it. We t-tried to stop Gerard b-but.." Scott inhaled through his nose and closed his eyes briefly, as if attempting to gather himself before reopened his eyes. "They're going to execute Stiles."

"What?!" Isaac barked in shock. "Execute him?!"

The hunter shifted on his feet and hung his head. "G-Gerard.. he's been torturing Stiles non-stop.. But Stiles won't give him any answers on your guys' whereabouts. B-But it seems that Gerard has finally run out of patience." Scott laughed bitterly and runs his fingers harshly through his hair. "So he's setting up an execution in front of the entire institute to make up for his crime of not only b-being a werewolf but killing Kate and some other hunters.. We t-tried to talk him out of it.. But Gerard kicked us out of the institute for our betrayal."

Talia frowned and glanced at a very tense Derek before looking back at Scott. "And when is the execution?" She asked tentatively.

"That's the thing." Deaton spoke. "We don't know. Gerard made a point to never tell them when the execution would take place. It could have already happened, it could be happening right now, or it could be happening in the next hour―we just don't know."

"So that's why I'm here." John piped as his eyes scanned the many faces in front of him. "To ask for your guys' help... I already lost my wife. I can't loose my son." The man pauses briefly and lingers before continuing. "He's all I got left and I've been missing in his life for 18 god-damn years. I'd be damned if I let him die at the hands of that maniac."

"Of course I'll help." Peter was quick to reassure. "But, if you don't mind, who are.. they?" He gestured to the unfamiliar faces.

The tall and built male stepped forward wearing a sheepish expression. "Forgive me for my lack of manners. I am Jordan Parrish. Deputy Jordan Parrish. I am John's partner down at the station in upstate New York." He introduced. Peter took a second to sniff the air and lightly scrunched his nose a little.

"Your scent.. it smells a little bit of smoke and soot. It's a little bothersome." He pointed out.

Parrish laughed. "That's because I'm a hellhound." He deadpanned. "Of course I'd smell of fire when I'm the epitome of hell." Peter's jaw dropped a little in awe. For dramatic effect, Jordan let his eyes flash the color of fire and heard Isaac let out a few noises, both impressed, amused, and in awe as he nudged Boyd.

"My name is Chris Argent." The bearded man spoke after a moment. "I am Allison's father."

"Well, now that we got all chummy," John snorted and Derek couldn't help but smile a little. Now he knew where Stiles got his sass from. "What about the rest of you? Will you help us rescue my son or not? I'm only going to ask once and I don't entirely have patience on my side so.. better make up your minds nor or forever hold your peace."

Isaac was the first to make a move. "Stiles is like the younger brother I never had and he's pack, too." He hummed softly and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "There's no way in hell I'd abandon pack." Erica and Boyd shared looks before they both nodded at each other.

"We're in too. He's my Batman." Erica chirped with a grin. "Guess I gotta play my role as his Catwoman."

"He's a little annoying." Boyd grunted. "But like Isaac said; he's pack. We don't turn our back on pack."

"We're out. There's no way in hell we're risking our lives for the sake of his." Veronica hissed. "He's the one that started all of this mess anyways. Why should we be entitled to save his sorry ass?" John stepped forward but was quickly stopped by Deaton.

"Because if it wasn't for his sorry ass, you'd all be dead!" John shouted.

Laura glanced over at her sister and nibbled on her bottom lip. "I'm in as well." She nodded and glanced up at Talia before looking at John with a small smile. "Stiles is a good kid. He deserves many things." She assured. Laura then turned her attention over to Cora, who grunted a little and folded her arms across her chest.

"The kid's pretty much a ball of Satan." She huffed. "I'm in."

"For Claudia." Talia spoke after an uneasy silence. "I will help. For Claudia." John shot her a grateful smile. "And you? Derek?" The alpha glanced up at his mother, finally had shifted back moments ago and was remaining silence throughout the entire debate. His eyes scanned their faces until he landed on John. The height and pair of hefty shoulders. Laugh lines, tired and emotionally drained eyes. His wardrobe was put together and holding well but even Derek knew that he, mentally and emotionally wise, wasn't. The man standing in front of him, looking at him with hopeful eyes, was Stiles' father. Stiles. His mate. His soulmate. His mate who was dying. His mate who was sentenced to a public execution. His mate who was just trying to do the right thing in the end.

The silence was heavy and tense as everyone awaited Derek's answer. When, finally, the alpha shifted slightly on his feet and inhaled through his nose; his shoulders rolling a little before they tensed. His fingers uncoiled from the tight confines of a fist, flexed a little before curling back into a fist once more.

"He's my mate." Derek clarified and snuck a glance at John to see his reaction. "And right now, my mate needs me. Whether he admits it or not, he needs all of us. I will help. John, I won't let him die. I promise you." John let out a small breathe and his shoulders seemed to relax a little.

"Thank you. All of you. We need to move, though. We have to get to the institute as fast as we can. We can't risk lollygagging. So, grab anything you need and meet us out at the cars in 5." He ordered. They all nodded and watched the group leave, the door remaining open. Laura and Cora turned and rushed over to their bags to begin pulling out things that they needed. Erica only needed to fix her blonde curls up into a messy bun and she was done. Boyd and Isaac went to go change out of their nice clothes into a different outfit, knowing that it'd get a bit bloody later on. Peter and Talia were on their way out of the institute, talking among each other about strategies and such. Derek was still frozen in his place, eyes staring down at a bag that was placed on a bench. Slowly, he approached the bag and unzipped it. He searched through the bag―most of it was bits of clothing and books--before he found what he was looking for. Derek pulled out a necklace that had a wooden ring hanging from it. Stiles had taken the time out of his day last week to make all of the pack members a ring to signify their 'pack-ness' as he explained. The ring was simple with smooth curves and a wolf's paw engraved into it. Each ring was a little different because of the word that was engraved into the inside of the ring; basically Stiles' nickname for them. For example, Erica had Catwoman engraved into hers. Derek's ring had Grumpy Cat engraved into his.

Derek unhooked the silver chain and took the ring off of it to examine it closer. He glanced up as he heard a throat clear and saw his pack standing in front of them with smiles. Each one of them had Stiles' ring on their fingers.

"We'll find him, Derek." Boyd reassured. "We'll find him." Nodding slowly, Derek put the ring on to his finger and gestured at the door with a simple tilt of his head before his pack followed him out of the building. They had all climbed into the awaiting cars outside and Derek found himself, along with his two sisters and Isaac in the John's vehicle.

"So," John began and Derek already knew where this was going. "Derek Hale, huh? You said back there that Stiles.. is your mate?"

Derek dared to side-glance the male. Despite being a werewolf, he couldn't help but be intimidated. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, we're mates." He spoke and nervously shifted in his seat. "The imprinting happens involuntarily."

"And what happens when you do imprint?"

"I see memories. Memories of.. of Stiles. But it's not just memories. When I imprint, my wolf sets a connection, a bond, but that can only happen when we.. when we, uh, when we bed. Sir." He finished and cleared his throat a little. He could hear his sisters and Isaac snicker from the back.

"Bed?" John echoed slowly. "When you.. when you two have sex, you mean?" The werewolf nodded slowly and rubbed the side of his neck. "Well... did you at least use protection?"

Derek turned his head and looked at the male with slightly wide eyes. "Werewolves are immune to disease... But, yes, I used a condom." He reassured. John seemed pleased by this but Derek was still a little cautious. "You're not gonna show up one night at my doorstep with your shotgun, are you?"

"Oh, damn right I will!" John barked. Derek let out a small, defeated huff and looked out of my window. "That's my son, Derek. My only child. The only reminisce of Claudia. My son, whom was thought out to be dead. You damn right I'm gonna show up at your doorstep with a shotgun. Every damn night if I have to."

"Well," Isaac chuckled. "At least we know where Stiles gets that fire in his eye from." John pauses briefly and addresses Isaac with a brief glance over his shoulder.

"Yeah, he's just like you." Cora continued. "He's got that... stubborn spark about him that you have as well."

"Great kid." Laura added then made a face. "Got a serious case of sarcasm, though."

John laughed. "Yeah, I don't know where he gets that from."


When Stiles opened his eyes, he knew something was coming. He knew something was about to happen and he could already sense it. The guards standing in the room were making it pretty obvious with their smug smirks and their over-all evilness. Point is, they seemed much more smug and energized than they were 5 hours ago when their arms were like jelly are hitting him for so long. And with a small sigh out of his nose, lips formed into a thin line, he mentally began to prepare for the upcoming event. His own execution. He wasn't going to fight it; he was going to welcome it. Call him a martyr all you want but if Stiles is going to die, he knows he's going to do for something. And if that something is the Hale pack living to see another day, then so be it. He'll gladly die at the hands of the Ol' Bastard any day.

So Stiles did was any normal person would do once they've accepted their upcoming fatality; bask in the good times and wrote mental notes to the ones he loved.

Allison. One of the first and few friends he's ever made at the institute. She's been there for him for several years, to the point where Stiles considers her his sister. She's funky, witty, and head-strong. She's also almost motherly. But she's not as strong as she claims or perceives to be; she struggles with her own weaknesses and has to repeatedly snap herself out of an emotional episode. Stiles remembers catching her for the first time as she forced herself not to cry, as she yelled at herself to not show weakness. Stiles had questioned her for it, almost tempted to ridicule her for it because they were at her mother's funeral for god's sake. It's okay to cry, Stiles said, it's okay to be sad. But Allison just looked at him and said, my enemies feed off of my sadness. I have to act like I have no emotion for them to not strike a point with me. Stiles was so shocked that he couldn't find any other word to say to her. He hasn't seen her even shed a tear since then, claiming she doesn't want to be seen as weak ever again. Though years ago, Stiles and Allison had made a promise; that if Stiles dies one day, then she can openly weep as much as she wanted over his grave. It was considered a joke back then but Stiles can't help but think if she's actually crying right now or not. So to you, my beloved sister, it's okay to cry and it's okay to be sad.

Then there's her father. Chris. Very strong-willed and wearing a poker-face pretty much 24/7. He's protective over Allison, more so ever since his wife was killed by a rogue omega a couple years back. But ever since he met Scott's mother, Melissa, Stiles swore that he saw a part of that stone-cold exterior soften. Chris is blunt and very straight to the point. He plays no need to bullshit and will shoot down a motherfucker that dares to aim a gun at the people he loves. Stiles doesn't know how or why―seriously, this is Stiles here―ever managed to worm his way on to the list of people Chris cares about. Maybe it was the time when Allison and Stiles were playing outside one day and a seriously pissed off dog came out of butt-fuck-nowhere and nearly went for Allison's jugular if it wasn't for Stiles; Stiles, who had to get 12 stitches in his forearm because of the massive bite wound. Everyone had originally thought that the dog was a werewolf and Stiles remembers, crystal clear, what it was like to stare down a barrel of a 45. Point is; Chris' attitude towards Stiles had significantly changed that day. Chris was more protective over him, softer when it came to handling him. He gave Stiles advice and Stiles even looked up at the guy as a father figure. So to you, my bad-ass father figure, keep up with the bad-assery. Melissa is a great woman so you'll find your happiness once again with her, there's no doubt about that.

Scott. Oh god, Scott. Scott will be a wreck once he finds out that Stiles is dead. Or if he's lucky, he'll be one of the people to find Stiles' corpse. Scott and Stiles have been pretty much glued to the hip since day one. Sassy and sarcastic Stiles Stilinski teaming up with the severe asthmatic Scott McCall. Perfect combo. They were like brothers―they are brothers, even in death. Stiles recalls the time where Scott and him were having a serious conversation about death; where they promised each other they would become ghosts together in the afterlife and haunt the shit out of Theo Raeken. Theo was a hunter until he was sent to Echo House 3 years ago after a 'psychotic meltdown', in which he had nearly killed Stiles. Scott had laughed at Stiles' idea of haunting Theo in his cell but had quickly agreed to it. Scott would take a bullet for Stiles and Stiles would do the same. Allison had even groaned and whined about how much of a bromance they have going on. It's bad enough they throw innuendos all over the place and constantly compliment each other about how firm yours biceps are in that shirt or how well that ass looks in those jeans. She had even complained that when she first saw them, she figured they were dating because there wasn't a waking moment where their hands weren't on each other. Scott had laughed while Stiles nearly choked on his own spit at the idea of them. Us? Us dating? Scott laughed. No way! We got a pretty good bromance going that you're convinced we're sucking each other off in the closet? In which Stiles just sends him a cheesy look and responds with; I'd suck your cock any day, big boy. Allison was about 1000% done with both of them that day. Scott is Stiles' brother and he knows that his own death will wreck Scott. So to you, my brother from anotha motha, refill your fucking inhaler and put a ring on the damn girl's finger for fuck's sake.

Stiles inhales through his nose and squeezed his eyes shut as another name flooded into his mind. Derek.

There's no doubt in his mind that Derek's still pissed at him. But Stiles hopes he's long gone by now, with the rest of the pack with him. He hopes that Derek gets the chance to move on with not only his life, but with someone else. If Derek had the chance to imprint on someone else, Stiles hopes that he will take that chance. He doesn't want Derek to dwell on the past, to dwell on him and on the what if's. He just wants Derek to run. Fast and far. But god―what Stiles would give just to see his face one last time. To kiss his lips one last time. To feel his scruff against his skin and to look into his blue-grey eyes. Stiles just wanted to hold him in his arms one last time, for life to give him that final wish of dying his arms. It would made him feel at peace. But more than that, Stiles also kinda wishes that he could have gotten more chances with him. Derek had imprinted on him and when they had sex, Stiles could feel the bond forming. He could sense Derek's movements before he made them, basically read his thoughts and sense his emotions. And Stiles hadn't even noticed it when he woke up after that night but there was a mark on the inside of his wrist; a simple little tattoo of a crescent moon. He had read somewhere that if a wolf finds its true mate, then a mark will appear somewhere on their body to signify the mate bond and to bind their souls together. In simpler terms, not only was Stiles his soulmate, but he was also his true mate and a true mate only occurs as often as a True Alpha does. Marvelous.

Stiles reopened his eyes and glanced up as he heard one of the hunters whisper something to another one before leaving the room. He knew his time was coming up so he took another breathe and braced himself. He closed his eyes and focused on the bond, feeling the energy of it surge through his weak and numb body. It was just enough for him to be able to do this.

Derek. If you can hear me... if you love me... let me die.

The energy from the bond withered away as fast as it appeared and he slumped in his restraints. Stiles let out a few heavy breathes before he reopened his eyes and looked around blearily. The door opened and a few more hunters walked into the room, approaching him with little smirks playing on their faces. Stiles sighed and closed his eyes briefly then glared up at Gerard while the other hunters unchained him from the wall before chaining his wrists behind him. Gerard grinned at him just before turning around and guiding the group out of the chamber with the hunters basically dragging Stiles' limp body along.

He was caked in dried blood, a lot of it, and none of his wounds were healing. Even if it wasn't for his execution, Stiles knew it was only a matter of time until he had died down there on his own. He was dying already and the execution was just the icing on the cake. The fact that Gerard would be the one to kill him was the cherry on top.

And as Stiles was dragged through corridor after corridor, he couldn't help but think about his parents. He wished he had gotten the time to visit his mother's grave like he was supposed to. He wished he had gotten the time to get a hold of his father, somehow, and arrange a place where they could meet officially. He had very many wishes and very little regrets in his life―not being enough for Derek was one of them. But at least he could go down without the regret of having anyone die because of him.

A pair of double doors opened in front of them and Stiles had to squint at the bright light. They were outdoors at this point; the hunters dragging him to a medium-sized wooden stage that was set up in front of rows and rows of benches. Benches that were occupied with every hunter in the institute, all of them watching with mixed emotions as he was tossed roughly on to the stage. His body smacked on to the wood with a dull thump and he grunted quietly but made no move to try to sit up.

"Do you know who this is?" Gerard asked their 'audience' as he gestured back to Stiles. "This is Stiles Stilinski. He was one of us, a dedicated hunter. But he had gotten bitten by a rogue alpha. He was spared with the mission of killing Talia Hale and letting us end our feud with the Hale pack for good. But he couldn't even do one simple task."

Stiles grunted as he forced up on to his knees by his hair, hissing softly in pain. "If you're done with your AA meeting intro," he taunted sarcastically. "you can go and get the show on the road. Or are you going to tell them what really happened?"

Gerard turned to him with a triumphant grin. "I doubt they'd believe a traitor, Stiles." He purred.

Stiles barred his fangs angrily at him. "You're the traitor!" He shouted. "You're the one who ordered Kate to kill my family!! You're the one responsible for all of this, for everything!! My parents sheltered the Hales. Why? Because your bloodthirsty ass wouldn't stop kicking their door down with an axe like heeeeeere's Johnny! They had done nothing wrong to deserve your target on them!"

"They killed a hunter!" Gerard growled.

"Because you had sent out a barely trained hunter who was just as bloodthirsty and as cocky as you were to go see his first werewolf." Stiles growled back. "You sent a boy 3 years younger than me to go and kill an entire pack, by himself, and you honestly expected him to come out alive? For him to come out victorious? Are you insane? No, wait, don't answer that."

"Are you honestly going to believe any of this?" Gerard scoffed and looked out at the other hunters. "Are you going to believe a traitor? Remember everyone; he killed many of us already, one of them being my beloved daughter."

"Oh, you mean Psycho Bitch Kate?" Stiles chirped. Gerard turned slowly with a glare. "Yeah, that was bound to happen but honestly―what did you expect? She ambushed me with an entire squadron of hunters all because you gave her the green light to present the Hales with a sneak peak. I killed her self-defense. She had a gun to my jaw for god's sake―what? Do you think I'd just let her shoot me? You'd be both dumb and insane. And besides, it doesn't matter if none of you believe me. I'm not looking for that." He watched some of the hunters shift and look at each other.

"You talk a lot for someone who is about to die." Gerard huffed and reached up to take the shotgun that was offered to him. "You see this, Stiles? These bullets are made of silver. Laced with wolfsbane and dipped in mistletoe." He loaded the two-barreled shotgun and cocked it, fixing his hardening gaze on to the weakened wolf. "This.. this is my vendetta." Stiles watched Gerard aim the shotgun at him and he closed his eyes, waiting for the sound of the shotgun going off and waiting for the impact to hit him. He could basically hear Gerard putting his finger on the trigger so he held his breathe and―

"Stiles!!"

Startling a little, Stiles shot his head up and looked up with wide-eyes. His breathe caught in his throat as he watched familiar faces run into the courtyard. Scott. Allison. Chris, who was standing beside an unfamiliar face and Melissa on his other side. Talia and Peter. Cora and Laura. Isaac, Boyd, and Erica. And..

"Derek?" Stiles whispered in disbelief. "D-Dad..?"

John smiled softly and took a step forward. "This is a very long, out-dated reunion, son." He breathed.

Gerard couldn't contain his angered shock. "You're still alive?!" He exclaimed. The hunters seated on the benches began to slowly sit up in alarm, looking back and forth between the group and Gerard.

"Yeah, I'm still alive." John growled and cocked his shotgun. "You're gonna have to try a whole lot harder than your crazy daughter to bring me down." That's when the hunters in the crowd either began running back into the institute or murmuring to each other as they stood off to the sides.

"I.. I told you guys not to come here." Stiles muttered with a small shake of his head. "You.. you shouldn't have come.."

"Did you honestly think we'd listen to you?" Isaac scoffed. "You're pack, Stiles. No way in hell we'd not come back for you."

John swung his shotgun up and aimed at Gerard. "You should put that gun down." He advised. "Unless you want a bullet in your forehead." Gerard chuckled low and tutted at the male.

"You should know better than that, John. Basic threats don't work on me." He mocked. John's eyes narrowed and the loud bang of his shotgun going off rang through the air. Gerard let out a sharp yell as he went down to one knee, blood staining his pant leg. John cocked his shotgun again and began walking forward with the others, still aiming his gun.

"How's that for a basic threat?" He retaliated. Gerard snapped his head up and growled angrily at John before reaching into his pocket.

"You know, John.. I was kinda hoping you'd all come back for him." He confessed before throwing mountain ash into the air. Derek's eyes widened and he stepped forward as he watched the ash form a circle around Stiles and him. "Just so that you could watch me do this." Stiles turned his head and found himself in a sense of deja vu as he looked down the barrel of a shotgun. John let out a yell and shot his gun, hitting Gerard just as Gerard pulled the trigger. Stiles' ears began ringing at the sounds of both guns going off and he couldn't hear anything else but the loud ringing. His world spun as his chest began to feel heavier than usual. Stiles slowly lowered his head to look down at himself before letting out a small cough.

"STILES!" Stiles could hear Derek's yell on top of the loud ringing but it sounded as if he was underwater. The bullet had hit him directly in his chest and as he collapsed on to his side, his lungs began to squeeze and it began to hurt to breathe. He looked up and saw his friends, his pack, running towards them but at that point, the blackness had already swallowed him.