After The Special Night, as Stiles liked to call it, it was PeterandStiles. No matter where he went in the house, Peter was glued to his side, whining and purring. At first Stiles thought it would be a hassle, but with the fake ‘wolf spell still in place, it made him feel happycontentmorelove. No matter what Peter did, whether it be accidentally scratching to fights, Stiles couldn’t stay mad at him. One look into those electric blue eyes and Stiles was done. If Peter asked Stiles to lasso the moon, he’d take the whole damn galaxy.
After three days endless touching and constant ‘wolf spells, Stiles knew he needed to leave. He still had to get food, grab clothes, and buy toiletries to let him stay at Peter’s house. The only problem was no matter what happens, the Pack will try to find him. Even if he erased his scent, lived in the Himalayas for the rest of his life, the McCall pack would still find him. Of course, changing your scent is a different story. It’d confuse any ‘wolf who saw their ‘best friend’, but smelled a stranger. So, Stiles set off to work.
First he made a semi-permanent ‘wolf spell, that would allow him to smell, act, and know any ‘wolf etiquette that he’d need to know. He’d have to find a way to reverse the spell, in case something goes wrong or it confuses Peter.
That was the problem with old magic, though. There was no reversal unless you read in between the lines, no ‘whoops I’m not gonna kill your daughter anymore’ take backs.
After the first spell he arranged to have his scent ‘changed’. To anyone outside of the McCall Pack, he’d smell like himself. To the Pack, however, he’d smell like a random person on the street. This spell was reversible too, but less strict with instructions and ingredients.
After completing both rituals, he had to face the crowd. More specifically, Peter. He had tried leaving before, and everytime Peter would whimper, whine, and/or grab at his clothes.
And everytime, Stiles would give into those beautiful eyes. Although his resolve always broke, he was determined to keep Peter safe. If they didn’t have enough food or supplies, Peter could get hungry or upset. Because of these new instincts, all Stiles wanted to do was wrap Peter in thousands of blankets and coddle him. Protect him from the rest of the world, from the hunters and cruel glares.
Stiles took a deep breath in, turning towards a very dejected Peter.
“I’m not gonna be long, okay?” Stiles started, “I just want to make sure we have enough food and supplies. I’ll be right back, I promise.” At the end of the sentence, Peter looked close to crying. Note: new Betas often felt higher emotions with stable/new Alphas; Stiles was both.
“Promise you’ll come back?” Peter said, whimpering. Oh no no no. If Peter did that he was going to cave in, stay with Peter until they were out of everything, just to make his ‘wolf feel loved.
“I promise, pup. And when I get back we can watch the oringinal Frankenstein, okay?” Stiles desperately said, fighting the feedwarmprotectmate that bubbles up with fire in his chest. Peter didn’t respond, just nodded and started to walk away. Before Peter could go far, Stiles grabbed him around the waist, Peter’s back against his chest.
“My lovely ‘wolf. I promise not even death can take me away.” The promise spoke volumes. It said how much he loved Peter, how he would protect him no matter what. How he wouldn’t let Peter fizzle out again.
Stiles took ten minutes to get to the store, speeding because he knew exactly where traffic cams and speed detectors where. He took another thirty to grab any kind of food that he or Peter needed. Of course, he got a long text from his ‘wolf including everything he wanted. Why the fuck does Peter eat burbon chicken? What even dude.
Really, Stiles should’ve known the Pack was following him, but his mind was filled with Petermineprovide so really he wasn’t to be blamed.
“What are you doing?” Stiles heard Derek say, right behind him. Stiles turned around, full cart of food forgotten, to tell Derek off.
“Getting food, you should try it sometime.” Stiles responded shortly, trying (but failing) to hide the venom in his tone.
”Why are you with Peter?”
“Because he’s mine.”
“What do you mean?”
”My mate, my Beta.” This started a war, apparently.
”He’s insane! He killed Laura and tried to kill Scott! He doesn’t care about anyone but-“ Stiles stopped him while he was talking. “No, he’s not insane anymore. He hasn’t killed anyone in years, and from my knowledge, he cares more than you do. He never, and I mean never, left you. You left him to rot, to heal without a pack, without his family. You were the one who didn’t care about anyone but himself.”
Stiles’ words dripped with wolfsbane and mistletoe, burning Derek to the core. The Beta was incompetent, filled with selfishness that burned him and his family to ash. No matter what Derek did, he never tried to make up for what happened to his Pack, to Peter.
Stiles wanted to forgive him for leaving his ‘wolf, he desperately did, but it was still burning in his mind. No matter what happened, they could’ve transferred Peter or stayed in BH. They could’ve helped his ‘wolf somehow, but instead they left him to rot. To die one of the most painful deaths, filled with burns and scars that are still healing.
”Watch your mouth.” Said Man Of Many Words, taking a threating step towards him. Like Stiles would still be scared of him.
“Watch what you do.” Stiles quipped back quickly, dismissing Derek to look for pasta. Maybe he could make some agnolotti? But Peter wanted some sort of noodles, so maybe rigatoni? But what if Peter wanted spaghetti? Maybe buy then all?
Apparently Stiles’ dissmissal was ignored, because the ‘wolf grabbed him by the shoulder, turning him to face Derek. “I’m not done.”
”Yeah? Well I am. This conversation was trivial and irrelevant, proving that I shouldve ignored you from the start.” Derek’s eyes flashed a disgusting blue after Stiles was done talking. Suddenly, the color only looked good on his ‘wolf. He was biased, okay?
”You’ll listen to me, Stiles.” Wow, a whole damn sentence. What an accomplishment. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll let go.” Stiles remarked back with pure anger and disgust.
Stiles decided now was the time to out himself, flashing his eyes. The iris was a smokey at the top, like a cataract, and a brilliant red at the bottom, like an Alpha. They swirled together, both colors fighting for dominance. Once Derek saw the shifting eye color, he stumbled back, staring at Stiles in shock. And, okay, Stiles is a piece of shit, but he had to say it, okay?
”I’m the Alpha now.” And Derek actually scowled more, if that was even possible. But, c’mon! Stiles really couldn’t miss the opportunity to throw Derek’s idiotic words back at his scowly face.
Stiles dismissed Derek for the final time, grabbing four different pastas, including lasagna, before throwing them in his cart and heading out. He was already gone long enough, and he really didn’t want to wait longer to see his ‘wolf.
When Stiles was driving back home, he felt his wards around Peter’s house bending, being pushed, breaking. Stiles could feel that they were the McCall puppies, and he may have driven faster than he should have to get home.
After pulling into the small parking lot, he raced up the stairs, getting to Peter’s apartment as fast as he could. He used his almost new senses, smelling smokebitterfear in the air, making him go faster. He unlocked the door quickly, slamming it shut to see Erica, Scott, and Isaac all surrounding the bedroom door. He could hear Peter inside the room, the sound of bed sheets shuffling and small, barely concealed whimpers.
Stiles took a deep breath in, scenting the stupid pups. They all smelled of fire, of burnt wood and paper. Seriously, Stiles was going to kill them. Stiles grabbed Erica and Scott by the napes of their neck’s, throwing them into the living room. He did the same for Isaac, hearing oomphs of pain and thuds of their bodies hitting the brown area rug.
“What,” Stiles seethed out, “Are you doing here, smelling of smoke?” The meanless pups actually looked scared, except for Scott. Stupid, asshole Scott. He looked determined, fire raging in his eyes as he stared Stiles down. Stiles just quirked an eyebrow in return.
”He’s manipulating you, Stiles! He doesn’t care about anything but the Alpha Power! You shouldn’t even be near him, let alone comforting him!” Scott said, more like bellowed, into the empty space.
“Are you done?” Stiles started, “Cause last time I checked, he deserved the Alpha power more than you.”
Scott’s face shifted from upset, angry, to enraged. He looked like he was going to blow a gasket. Stiles saw his jaw clench, his eyes turn a bloody red, saw pure and unfiltered rage cross his features. There was no going back to how it used to be, and Stiles was fine with that. He loved Scott, but every since he got his crimson eyes, his title, he didn’t think anyone was more import than him. He was self righteous, filled with a need to be better than anyone else.
“I am a True Alpha! I am better than you will ever be! You need me!” Scott roared out, fangs dropping, slurring his words. Stiles used to be scared of that; Stiles thought he needed Scott, and that everything would be fine if Stiles stayed with the Alpha. Now, though, now he realized how wrong he was.
“No, you are just an Alpha who didn’t kill to get his power. I am better than you because the power got to your head, corrupted your mind. And I never needed you. I wanted someone who would stay by my side no matter what, and now I have that with Peter.”
Scott charged after him after he finish, claws reaching for his chest. Stiles side stepped him, slamming his foot into the back of Scott’s knees. The ‘Alpha’ went down hard, the clanking Of bones smacking together filling the void of noise. Stiles put two finger to Scott’s forehead, a hand on his chest.
“You were never meant to be an Alpha.” With that, Stiles started searching McCall’s spark, his Alpha spark, trying to find where it was raveled. Stiles didn’t notice Peter walking into the room, standing in the corner.
He finally found it and pulled. When Stiles was in college, he learned from a less cryptic Druid that you could take a ‘wolf’s power away, or their whole ‘wolf. The only problem is, if you weren’t strong enough, the ‘wolf’s power could consume you.
While he was pulling, both their bodies lit up in color. Scott’s a crimson red, Stiles’ a fluorescent blue. The powers fought against each over, trying the devour each of the people in their hold. Slowly, Stiles spark spread over the boy, both eye, noses, and mouthes letting out a beautiful blue.
Scott’s body was filled with colbalt now, sloshing around lazily inside both of their bodies. The color slowly died out, letting what was remaining of the boys back into the light.
Scott came out as a Beta, and Stiles came out holding a True Alpha’s Spark. It shone in his hands, demanding a new, worthy host.
Stiles looked around the room, and finally noticed Peter. His beautiful Peter.
“Do you want to be an Alpha again?” Stiles asked his ‘wolf, looking at him expectantly. The ‘wolf shook his head, but walked over to him. His ‘wolf grabbed his hand, the one holding the Alpha spark, and held it up to Stiles’ chest.
“You take it.” His magnificent ‘wolf said, stepping away. Stiles looked over to the fuming Beta’s and their tear soaked faces, before nodding. He loosened his grip on the Spark, slamming it into his chest.
His magic and spark fought for dominance, swirling around in a constant battle. Slowly, the colors mergered, creating a remarkable violet.
“I’m the Alpha now.” Stiles said for the final timing, smirking at the shocked faces of ‘his’ betas.
”You now have two choices. One, you could join my pack, or two, I can call Satomi or the Hesignburg pack to let you become their betas. You have until the full moon to choose.” With that, Stiles circled his hand, teleporting the pups to Derek. He’d tell them what to do.
After what had happened, everything (kinda) went back to normal. The McCall pack still had two weeks to choose their fate, so Stiles had all the time in the world. He mostly spent it reassuring his ‘wolf that he would never leave him.
“Hush.” Stiles rumbled, pulling Peter closer to his chest. His Beta whined the most amazing noise, burying his face in Stiles’ neck and tangling their legs together. Peter’s arms were pressing against his chest, Stiles arms wrapped around his ‘wolf. That’s how they spent most of their days. Wrapped around each other, laying anywhere and everywhere. When Stiles and Peter were cooking, one was always right against the others back.
Hands always tangled together, chests always connect, always scenting each other. No matter what happened, Peter was always by Stiles’ side.
Stiles could totally live like this forever.