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Wolf Pack

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It was already passed four years without any signal. Stiles it was missing for all this long and it no matter where they are looking for, he just was despaired in the air.
Nothing had missing in his room. All his clothes was still in his closet, his things was in their right places, his phone and laptop was forgotten above his desk where their normally stay, any money was taken, his jeep was still in the garage, keys left in the kitchen; Any trace of fighting or break-in, nothing that could showed then it was a kidnapping or murdered. No body, no calls asking for payment, nothing that could showed what was happened. All it was left it was a little note with the words:
“I’m leaving, I will be good, don’t worry, I’ll not be back. Thank you for everything.”
Stiles just... gone. Like he never was been there in the first place.
It was one of the most reasons that made then think it was a supernatural activate. That was one of the reasons that made the sheriff ran to the pack for help when the cops said he was probably dead and end the case. He ran to Scott didn’t knowing what more to do and realized that the conventional means do not helped to find his son. He needed something supernatural to solve all this mess.
Scott didn’t refuse. No one did. After all, they lost so much with the Alpha Pack, Darach and the Nogitsune, with all this madness, they just couldn’t lose anything else. It was started to be complicated to solves all the shit that was happening without Stiles to said what it was, without him to showed the way, without him to screamed to them a “I warned you” every single time that he was right how is the villain. The Pack it is small yet, dysfunctional and with an instable territory. A supernatural beacon. With a Nemeton. No existed light spirit anymore, because the sarcasm and the jokes were over. No one for filled the silence with a incessant babbling with any coherent line of thinking, no one for screamed at them for something had begun and none of them had notice yet.
Moreover, Stiles was his best friend, his brother. Scott just have to find him.
But still with supernatural help, nothing was found. His smell it was weaker around the house, disappearing, like he had not been in there for days. No trail to follow, no footprint. Had a soft trace of magic in Stiles’s room and this it was all they can found. And even that was lucky. Deaton had to really search for it, and just because he guessed it could be a spell. He said it was old, wormed and could be just a residue of the spell that had used, what just indicated that who took Stiles really was an supernatural person and a powerful one. Not enough to determinate which spell was used, just to said that something happened.
They guess a witch. What made must part of them shaking, old memories of Darach appear in their minds, made them imagine the worst. But what they want with Stiles? It’ll not batter do more sacrifices or something similar? To where they took him? After all this time without signal, means that Stiles was really dead? They are looking for a body?
Just the think made all the members blood’s pack freezing. For a so young age they all saw enough friend’s bodies. Enough bodies, in fact, not just friends even if the friends marked more. The sheriff almost fainted just with the supposition; his blood pressure dangerous high. Melissa had to interview.
Deaton suggested that it could’ve be because of Stiles’s spark. All the concept was confused, and even Deaton wasn’t having sure what it means. Exist very few sparks in the world and less material about them, but they are easy to identify. Their potential still extremely unexplored, to the point that he didn’t know what Stiles it was capable to do, even if his capacity to manipulate the Mountain Ash it was clear since the Kanima’s incident.
Anyway, that means Stiles is not necessary dead. Whoever it was the magic user, he will have to cultivate the magic inside Stiles until it reaches all its potential before they could take it, if it was his objective. But for that it will take time and to a lot of work. So, the chances that Stiles is still alive is very cheerful.
The years passed slowly, and they still don’t get any closer. They barely keep the hope to find their friend. Alive or in one piece at least.
Looked like he wasn’t wanting to be found. Melissa and Lydia suggesting this many times before, appointing the little note that he left for them. They said that maybe, just maybe, doesn’t have any dark thing behind, just Stiles running away. But they insist, refusing to give up, refusing to believe that Stiles could’ve really agreed with just go. Searching deeper, and deeper, looking in other packs around for any piece of information that they could get. Anything.
After all, why he wanted to leave? Left his father? Scott? The pack? They couldn’t think in any reasons to him do that. Scott, more determinate than anyone but the sheriff, affirmed with teeth and claws that his brother never would abandon him. That Stiles ever would have his back, ever would be that for anything that he need. Because, after all, it always been like that. Stiles ever was Scott’s shadow. Glue together by their hips since they met in kindergartener.
They are keeping looking as long as they can, keeping the contacts that they made with anyone that maybe could find something.
Until, finally, something showed.
It was a simple call of one of their contacts who lives in Los Angeles’s surroundings. They said that they were listening some rumors about an incredible magic user that could be a spark. Nothing right really and without any description. Other rumors say that the local pack knew about the magician, but made nothing in respect, living in harmony with the magic and never said or confirmed about his existence. But, as their contacts said, it’s just rumors and could be wrong.
The pack in question is not the must popular in the area. Self-centered and extremely reserved, they made few alliances and kept their territory close in most part of the time.
They were a very good allies with the Hale pack, but it was just and extra information that no one payed attention.
That made them travel to there. Or, at least, Scott and the Sheriff went, each of them for their own reasons.
The Sheriff couldn’t keep himself apart of all of this when finally they found a clue about what happened with his son, while Scott was the only one in the pack that passed enough time with Stiles to knew his smell and could know what exactly he have to search.
The travel was made in silence, full of tension and anxiety. Made the distance longer and eternal, full of ferocious imagination that always was creating the worst scenery, even when it’s hard to think something wort than what they lived in Beacon Hills.
When they arrived, they sooner notice that the place it was nothing more than a simple and peaceful village. Small and suburban, with identical houses with big gardens and small white fence with beautiful roses or even fruit trees sometimes, clear streets and simple people. Nothing supernatural, nothing scary.
A small wood surrounded the place, just like Beacon Hills, but denser, with more species of trees full of leaves. According with the plates exist a small stream and caves scattered for all the place to shelter the extensive and varied wildlife that living around. It was a tourist attraction, with even the possibility to see a wolf, foxes, cougars and to much more crossing the streets or simply lazing somewhere in the gardens searching for the sun light, a rare fact in the actual times with the urbanization. According with the information that they gotten all this is because of the strong motived of the local preservation, thinking of it, all of it could be explained with the pack who commanded the area. They are the defenders of the place, it’s logical that they try to preserve the nature.
Of course, other groups lived in here too. Scott have sure he could smell the ozone coming of the magic and quickly found that the houses which was more self-sustaining is the home of witches who lived peacefully. He swears that could hear little wings, like butterfly but faster, flapping around. He thinks about fairies, but never saw one, so he couldn’t have sure. The light atmosphere and harmony make him think if have some humans in the city or if all the population it’s supernatural.
It’s surprisingly stable, different of Beacon Hills.
Scott had had to present himself to the local pack, the governates and protectors of the territory, asking for permission to stay and search for their friend at who maybe could be around. He try to explain the situation the best as he can and miraculously the alpha, a small woman with a strong and strict aspect, allowed his stayed until he solve the problem, wishing them lucky with their search with the warning to not perturbed the others habitant. Troublemakers are not welcome, and the local militia will keep on eye for any problem that could be happened.
There was no big trade, any more things, any growls or strange tradition, just two persons talking, even if tow of the woman’s betas stayed by her side all the moment, guaranteeing that him do not anything. Scott already met other alphas, but none of them was so cold than this one. He had been warned that it could be possible, this pack like to keep their things for their selves and not appreciated other wolfs in their territory. A few ones even speculated that they hide dangerous secrets, obscure, and because of that they are so closed, so isolate. Coming here, without asked before or said something maybe be an insult for them, but he not knew about that before or a way to do something about that, so… Yeah, nothing to do about that.
Maybe Stiles knew better. He always has known about that type of things. Always searching and going for new information that Scott never ever could imagine where he could got that. But he is not here now, and Scott feel lost.
It’s taken two days to finally found some smell trail around the woods. A familiar smell, even if it’s passed a good time since the last time that he could sense it.
The hope gets bigger and they pass the most part of their morning and afternoon searching around the woods, take careful to not get lost.
Scott had noticed a little difference in the smell. Most animal, most powerful, like the wind before the rain, full of electricity. He can’t tell exactly what it was, seeing that the essence still the same, still being Stiles. When he finally found the origin of the smell, he could understand why is so strange and different, even when he doesn’t believe in his eyes.
- You have sure Scott? – asked the Sheriff, his eyes stuck in the creature walking carefully not so distance that where they are. They are moving with grace and confidence, so pretty and magnificent, snout up, look like it notices some smell that could get their attention, but can’t identify where it is. Don’t look like it noticed they yet and they will be glad to stayed like this.
- Yes, sir. It’s where come the smell. – before they eyes it’s not the slim figure of their friend, but a beautiful spotted white wolf, painted with little stains of brown in different and irregular parts, with a warm honey golden eyes that shining in the light that illuminated the forest. It was a magnificent big animal, bigger than a normal wolf used to be, with delicate paws touching the forest’s ground, so silence, ears over head moving for any sounds that could get. – I can’t understand. How it could be Stiles? He is not a wolf, he never would accepted the bite.
Scott never wanted the bite. He never wanted to be a werewolf and knew that Stiles understand that, Stiles always understand him. He sees too, see how it could ruin someone life, how could be a curse. So why…
The big white spotted wolf raised their head, their eyes going right in their direction, the honey golden eyes shine, more than the natural light around, a supernatural light, pure golden, the beta werewolf type of color, but a little scarlet, as if little by little their turning to red. So, with a deep breath, throw their head up and howl. A loud howl of alert that resounded for all the forest and Scott could recognize, weirdly. His animal sense translate that as a signal of warning, indicating invaders. Not so long after other howls could be listened around the forest, ricocheting between the trees, along whit the wind, answer the Stiles’s howls… Or what they guess it be Stiles.
Scott identify at least eight howls before Stiles disappear again among the trees. So fast that they couldn’t think even in follow him.
Back to the hotel where they are staying the first thing that they do it was calling the pack, call Deaton. They need to talk about that situation and what it means.
It was the bigger progress that they do in so many years, but of all they expected, that was not in the list. Even with the constancy supernatural occurrence, Stiles being a wolf, being bite and probably being feral it was the last they thought they could find. They… They don’t know what to do with that new information.
- You have sure that it’s not a spell, Scott? – Lydia ask during the call, her voice a little distant, maybe because the call it’s put in the vivavoz for all them can hear and talk. She was dedicated to considering all their options before go to the more obviously, after all, nothing is obvious in this days. – It would be to much easy justify an animal than a kidnapped human who couldn’t shut up, principally if that human was Stiles. We know how he could be annoying. The witch that could take him could do that. Going with the principle that it was really a witch that take him or even it was a kidnapping.
- No, Lydia, it’s not looks like a spell. His eyes shine just like a beta. And his smell… I don’t know how explain, but smelled animal, like a wolf, like a werewolf used to smell but with something more. I don’t know. It was different, still Stiles, but different.
- A complete form it’s rare to get, Scott, even for born wolfs, imagine saying to the transformed ones. You have sure about what you saw? – Deaton ask this time, his voice it’s calm as usual, patient and quiet, even if has a little interesting behind.
The Sheriff doesn’t like much the man. Never appreciated people that refuse give all the information, people like he had to deal all the time in his work. For that reason, he has had so much problem with his son in the past. And even if he doesn’t deny his necessity of the knowledge or help that the veterinary could give, he wouldn’t say that he wasn’t uncomfortable with the way which he is showing interesting in the new information about his son.
Until this moment he looked hesitated to help, doing just for Scott, his alpha. It would have a reason to him suddenly demonstrate so much interest.
- He was a wolf. A real wolf. Bigger than you would expect, maybe the same high of a pony or something like this, white with brown spots. But his eyes do not look like all golden like Liam, they are more… Red, like the copper. – the Sheriff grumbled. Hands passing over the exhausted eyes, asking himself how this is could be his life now. God, he needs a drink, he is to much sober to deal with things like this.
But it’s not a surprise came from his son.
- Interesting. I believe that the better option to what to do now is take him back here to I could examined him. If he is feral and can’t come back to normal it would be suitable take some exams to see if his heath still good, seeing that we do not know which much time he is like that or how condition he was until now. Moreover, he probable will need an alpha so much for come back to normal as for to take care of him.
- Scott said that he heard others howls responded his own, not means that he already has a pack? – Lydia, scary smart Lydia, raised an eyebrow suspicious to the doctor, crossing the arms with a demandant posture. She is one of the only ones that not seen Deaton’s theories as the only ones, she is a genius, she would see the loose ends, the other possibilities that could work when everyone refuse to believe. – To not saying that he is in a pack territory. Other pack. I don’t know if it will be a good choice kidnapping him to take him here. To not mention the detail that it’s not easy to transport a wild animal across the state. Maybe it should be better ask help to the local pack.
- I don’t know if we should trust them, Lydia. – the alpha interrupted, his eyes on the phone like he really could stare the redhead – They have a good territory and take care of it well, I give you it, but they are cold, closed, I don’t know if they would be glad to help us. Besides, Stiles is part of our pack, he is our responsibility, it’s fair that we take him back were his belong and fix it.
- You are the one who said that heard wolves, Scott. It was four years, what make you so sure that him not moving on and find a new pack?
- He is my best friend, my brother, he never would do that.
- We don’t know what happened to him. We don’t know what made him disappear or what happened in these four years. And what if he is not feral? What if he wanted the bite? He knew that you wouldn’t give it to him, Scott. He knew that you don’t like it, what you think about it, so maybe he went to another alpha. Maybe he found other people. Scott, I know that you don’t like to hear it, but what if he was not kidnapping, but just left?
- What if it’s not that, Lydia? What if we are right and he was taken away and feral now?
- I’m just saying that we can’t get ahead of ourselves and do something wrong. Assuming that he still there against his will without proves and just drag him here look to much more kike a kidnapping than a rescue. Principally when he already has a pack.
- I guess you attached yourself to much on that, Miss Martin. – Deaton carefully started, his tom it’s like he is talk with a child, what definably not help to calm down the redhead nerves. – But I think I have to let you know that a werewolf, especially the feral ones, have instincts that make them search for a pack, even if this pack is a real pack of wolves. Werewolf in this type of circumstance could be hard to recover. The Hall-Mateev pack it’s more old and traditional than the Hales and maybe more reputable, I will not deny that they have resources that maybe we don’t have, but their reputation is around obscure secrets and even the involvement with questionable fonts in the supernatural world. Their methods are known as cruel in the better situation. Trust in them in this type of situation, with an omega of ours in their territory could be a risk, as to us as to Mr.Stilinski himself.
- We already have established, doctor Deaton, that we don’t have sure if he is in fact an omega or not, so stop take conclusions of which you do not know. And don’t speak to me as I was stupid.
- I wouldn’t dare.
- Enough! It’s doesn’t matter nothing of that now. – the Sheriff interrupted, exhaust again. Exhaust of all this discussion that constantly happen in the group that name themselves pack. The Sheriff had his own part of search, or better, he had what he take of Stiles’s search in his computer, and know that pack means family, maybe even more than that, and this dysfunctional group looked to most more as a disorganized club of children than a family itself, that support and help each other.
He asks himself sometimes, in the pass of the years that Stiles was missing, if it wasn’t the reason that made him left. If Lydia and Melissa were right and Stiles left for his own free will because he deserves to much more than all this. Too much more than a group that called themselves family but couldn’t came with a consensus even it’s for salve their lives, that always have problems, always disputing, so broken and ripped. If he not gone to find something better and now, they are forcing him to come back, separating him of what probable he gained for his own and grab him back to the hell it is Beacon Hills.
But they had already gotten that far, they are not coming back.
- We will get Stiles and take him back home, in a place that he knows, that he has friends. That will made easier to him tomr human again and we will be there for him if he needs. If Lydia was right and we made a mistake, he will leave for his own and don’t want to stay with us, so we will let him go after explain everything.
No one said anything after that and, in the morning, Scott and the Sheriff it’s back to the woods, a tranquilizing bullet in the gun because Scott just refuse to get any wolfsbane in someone’s territory. In fact, he refused anything that could possible kill someone, even if they didn’t know the pack or if they are dangerous. Deaton was the one who offer the choice, saying that it could be the better option to guarantee a fast scape if something goes wrong.
In the end it will be useful.
Scott discovered that follow Stiles’s smell to find him again could be more a challenge than he thought at first. The smell was very common in the area, always marked with a only emotion, one intention, Scott doesn’t know how describe this exactly, he never was good at this, but it’s like an alert, a warning, like it’s telling to everyone that he was here, proudly marking the place as their own.
Its like he is marking the place as it was his territory, warning the invaders that the land it’s taken. But that not make sense, why Stiles would do something like this? He is so immersed in his primal instincts that he doesn’t notice how it’s weird?
Besides it’s already had a werewolf pack in the city. They don’t care that has a strange smell around their territory?
Before he could think more about it, finally they found the right trail, footprints are marking the ground under the dried leaves and broken branches. He noticed that have more than two pair of footprints, more trails, but he doesn’t think to much about it, his mind just in Stiles. Focusing in find him again and take him home.
The sound was soft, the crack of leaves under footsteps, smooth paws walking slowly, carefully, a fast heartbeat, like a bunny, even if the comparison was ironic. All this attracting all his senses.
Pulling the sheriff to hiding behind some trees, they stare at the magnificent spotted white wolf walking again cautious around, this time with more attention, more prepared, more hesitant. He looked defensive, prepared to attack, so prepared to fight that Scott could feel the hairs on the back of his neck creeping up in challenge, his alpha’s instincts screaming to make the wolf submit.
An exchange of glances with the Sheriff was enough to him appointed the gun to the wolf, searching for the perfect view, the right moment to shoot. All the forest it seemed in a deadly silence while prepare itself for the next step, like it was holding the breath, waiting to see what it ends with all this scheme.
Scott could said perfectly, after this, when was the exactly the moment that Stiles discovered that their was there, roar prepared to scape of his mouth, grunts reverberating in his chest while his claws scratched the ground, sharp fangs showing in their direction while his eyes shining with the copper gold like they remember to saw the last time. His body get down, ready to jump to them, ready to rip all the parts of their bodies apart, when the sheriff finally shoot, scared, it’s just to be eluded with a gracious and fast movement that it not typical of Stiles, left the beast even more furious.
She run in they direction and Scott have to little time to put himself in front of the sheriff before the claws hit his body and perforated his fresh. So deeper that Scott swear that he hear scrape a bone.
The fight still in the ground. Rolling among the dirt and the earth, hitting fangs against fangs, claws against claws, both healing so fast as was expected from a werewolf. But even when it is an alpha sore and it have to healing more slowly, when the alpha is stronger and faster, more capable, Stiles still looked like could keep himself perfectly equal by equal against Scott, maybe even have a advantage.
- Stiles! – the white wolf raised up his eyes, almost surprise, his eyes turn back to the natural color of whisky while he staring at the sheriff, hesitating for a only instant when saw the man, like he has seen a ghost, if a wolf could even make a look like this.
Everything stopped, the forest still in a suspense state while father and son staring each other for the first time in years. In the meddle of this, Scott swear hear a soft whining, and maybe it was not be all his imagination, seeing how Stiles turn his head abruptly in the direction where the whining came, distracting him enough to the sheriff could shoot him, hitting the big white wolf right on the shoulder.
Stiles staggered, like he was drunk, his head shaking, trying to keep wake, his eyes staring at the two men again while try to move away from them with a instable paws. He is losing the fight, the tranquilizing it’s to much strong, made for wolves from Deaton, but he still insist, fighting against the drugs.
Before he falls, though, he raised his head to the sky, howling one more time and, just so, falling to the ground, asleep.
Scott took a deep breath, rising from the ground, staring at the animal not so far, thinking that finally they made it. They got Stiles.