Chapter 1
Notes:
Thank you, Electroclan17 for the amazing cover!
Chapter Text
Once, there had been a time when Scott had his pack, the people he loved and cherished above all else, with their quirks and weaknesses and troubled history that left them all scarred, fractured - but never broken. But they had been his. His to love and to protect, even though in the end, he had failed at this, and failed miserably. He'd had this one duty, and he hadn't even been able to fulfil it.
After the supernatural creatures had been revealed to the world, the hunters, and a lot of ordinary people had all rallied against them in their crusade against all things unnatural. Werewolves, wendigos, banshees, even druids had been hunted down and killed without mercy. They had become nearly extinct, and those who survived needed to hide on the outskirts of civilization, banned from human towns and cities.
The emissaries (or what was left of them) had not been able to advise why the universe failed to regain its balance. So many deaths, so many lives lost, and all too soon, the supernatural community had been too decimated to defend itself. And it had seemed that nothing could tip the scales back to their favor anymore.
At least, that was what Scott had thought until Alan found Scott after years of not seeing each other, and told him why the world was so out of balance without any signs of getting better.
“After a massacre of this scale, this world-wide wipe out of supernatural beings - to regain a state of equilibrium after something like that, the universe would need to reset itself so much it could no longer be done in this timeline. So, in order to save the world which is already lost, one must actually prevent this all from happening in the first place,” the druid said, his face scarred and one eye missing from its socket, a black patch hiding it from the view.
Scott would have wept seeing that, if he wasn’t so relieved at the mere fact that Deaton was alive . Even if his words were as vague as ever.
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” he stammered. “Time travel is actually possible?”
“It’s not only possible, it’s a necessity. The balance must be maintained at all costs. All other laws this world has ever known are secondary to that. It is the balance that rules and trumples all.”
So the only question remaining was…
“Why me?” Scott asked, feeling the all-too familiar doubt settling in his stomach. He had failed this world once. What made Alan so sure he won’t do it again?
“Because you’re you. Because you’re a True Alpha. And because you are even more than that, and your journey is not over yet.”
Vague was not enough of a word to describe Deaton’s way of speaking, Scott realized. This whole idea, it was madness. A pure, lock-me-in-Eichen-House madness.
But despite that, he decided to go with Alan’s harebrained scheme this one last time. After all, he had nothing to lose, and the whole world to gain. Or regain.
* * *
Waking up in his younger body left Scott gasping for breath from the shock of the transition. With shaking hands and sweat dripping down his torso, he sat up gingerly, feeling weak and dizzy. His teenage room looked faintly familiar, with clothes and school notes scattered everywhere which had always infuriated his mom to no end.
Scott hid his face in still shaking hands. He will do it. He will gather his pack again and do his best to protect them from harm. Oh, he was certain he couldn't save everyone and be everywhere at all times. But with his foreknowledge, he could actually make well-informed decisions, avoid traps he knew would be there and use his experience to overcome the new ones.
He could do it. Because this time he actually knew what was at stake if he failed.
The first thing he did was to check the date on his phone. It was a few days after he was bitten (and he knew that since Stiles in his past? future? had insisted on celebrating his Becoming-Werewolf Day each year). So, he should have already met Allison, and talked with Stiles about his changes such as heightened senses. Probably, they had already met with Derek in the woods while searching for his inhalator, but not much else.
Derek. Even the mere reminder of him was painful to think about. Grumpy, sullen Derek with his big heart and protective streak a mile long. Sharp on the edges, always keeping his distance Derek who somehow wormed his way to Scott's heart and his life without him noticing until it was a done deed.
His mentor, not an alpha or beta, but simply a friend. And part of the pack, as much as Derek had always protested against that.
Well, he will not be doing much protesting any longer, if Scott had his say in this. But for now, the school. This was the easy part, right? He had already graduated once. Doing it again should be like a walk in the park, surely.
* * *
School was at the same time the best thing and the worst thing that happened to him, and for exactly the same reason. Because most of the people he cared about were there, alive, carefree and acting as teenagers they were. Lydia and Jackson with their dysfunctional relationship which covered the fact that they truly cared for each other, but actually hated being a couple, Allison which was still trying to find her footing in a new school, and nerdy, loyal Stiles who never shut up and Scott actually loved it about him. Hell, he even caught a glimpse of Isaac, shy and isolated, trying to disappear from everyone's notice.
It was painful and heart-wrenching to see it.
Of course, Stiles noticed that something was off, because well, he was Stiles. It was his job to know things.
"Hey dude, you nervous about lacrosse tryouts? Or is it about, you know, the strange wolfy thing that happened to you in the woods?"
Scott sighed. "None. Both. I don't know, Stiles. As much as you have joked the other day about me being a werewolf and howling to the moon, it hits too close to the truth for it to be funny."
The playful grin on the other boy's face turned more serious.
"You're not pulling my leg here, Scotty, right?"
"Not about something like this, no," the werewolf assured. "I'm changing and I feel it. I'm nervous about our lacrosse training because I'm much stronger now. What if I bump into someone and accidentally hurt them?"
"Well, me thinks that if your super powers are here to stay, you really should focus on mastering them. And what is a better way to do that than playing lacrosse? It's a sport, Scott, accidents and minor injuries are in the job description, y' know. Whatever happens on the field, it will be easier to cover up than anywhere else."
That actually… made a lot of sense. And Scott already had the right mindset to control his transformations, as his mind was already used to being a werewolf for many years now. It was just his teenage body that was struggling to adjust, and body could be easily trained with a bit of time and effort.
"You know what, Stiles? You're absolutely right."
The other boy grinned cheekily at that, his chest puffing with pride.
"Of course I am. I'm Stiles ."
Scott, not surprisingly, made the team's first squad without much effort. He also managed to avoid any supernatural slip ups while doing so, and made sure not to do anything that would be outside of normal human abilities. He was relieved that his mind was clear and his focus as sharp as in his future/past. Afterwards, as everyone started gathering their equipment, Scott slipped into the woods outside the field, sensing a familiar scent. He was not really surprised to find Derek there.
"Why were you watching me?" he asked the older werewolf calmly, looking at his tense shoulders and unreadable eyes.
"What made you so sure it was you I was watching and not anyone else?"
Scott snorted at that. "Because I got the bite and not them, that's why. Could we please skip to the point where you tell me I'm a werewolf now?"
Derek seemed taken back at his straightforwardness. "You know?"
"I know," Scott confirmed. "And as you can see, I'm good. I managed to control myself just fine."
"So, after one successful lacrosse game you just decided that you don't need any help?", don't need me was left unsaid but Scott could almost hear those words, hurt and insecure. And he marvelled at how young Derek looked now. He was just a man who lost everything and everyone and was desperately struggling to connect, while at the same time hunting a feral Alpha and trying to protect everyone, while being barely a couple years older than Scott.
"Of course I need you!" the teenager assured the other werewolf with vehemence that surprised even himself. "But I also need you to trust me when I say that I'll be fine."
He took a couple of steps toward Derek, wanting to get closer to his packmate. "Look, I know that this may sound crazy, but the whole werewolf thing? It feels natural to me. Like I was always meant to become one. So just… try not to worry too much, OK?"
Some of the tension left Derek's shoulders but his stance didn't change.
"Most young werewolves struggle for weeks to gain even a semblance of control. So forgive me if I'm not going to just take your word for it. I'll be watching you," the older man warned.
Scott smiled at that, it was such a Derek's thing to say. "That's fine," he agreed easily. "Just remember that you don't have to be so secretive about it, it looks highly suspicious from the outside. So, we're good?"
Derek's mouth twitched a bit, a barely-there smile. It vanished in a blink of an eye, but Scott had seen it, and it was enough. He beamed. "Great! See you later!" he waved cheerfully at the older man and jogged back to the school.
* * *
Once he was alone, Derek's shoulders slumped a bit and he sighed heavily. He was tired to the bone, and grieving so much he wanted to howl in misery. But he couldn't allow himself to show weakness in front of anyone, much less a young werewolf which he wanted to make a good impression on.
Oh, he knew that he was not the most approachable or easy to talk to person on his best days, and the last few days were certainly one of his worst. He was also painfully aware that he came across as cold and unfeeling, and trying to connect with this kid, Scott, was surely doomed to be a total disaster.
But somehow, this conversation that they just had, actually went well. No tears, shouting matches, no accusations. Overall, a total success.
Of course I need you, the boy had said, and Derek was totally unprepared for that. He built walls around his heart against rejection, fear and disgust, but the warm acceptance and kindness that kid projected? Derek was defenseless against them.
"I need you too," he admitted quietly, when he was certain that Scott wouldn't hear him, even with his werewolf senses.
Chapter Text
Before going to Lydia's party that evening, Scott had been thinking. While he needed to pretend to be a teenager, deep down he knew that he was not, not in the ways that counted. While stuck in a sixteen year old body, his mind was still that of an adult. So the question over which he mulled over and over again, was if it was a moral thing to do, to keep seeing Allison.
She was a teenage girl, looking for a boyfriend who would be head over heels in love for her. And while Scott could honestly say that he cared for Allison, loved her even, he was not in love with her. Not anymore, and certainly not with this young version of her rather than the fierce and fearless woman he remembered. Their bond had been forged in blood and fire, and if Scott's plan to change the timeline will be successful, she may never become that person ever again.
It was a bittersweet realization, to know that changing the events to prevent countless deaths in the future will inevitably lead to pain and loss that hadn't happened before. That's why he arrived at the party somewhat distraught and disconnected from the drunken and carefree partying that took place around him, which didn't go unnoticed.
"What's wrong, Scott?" asked Allison worriedly, taking his hand in hers. "Are you feelling okay?"
"I need to talk with you," he admitted. "Would you mind if we went somewhere more private?"
"Sure, I mean, I don't mind. It is a bit crowded here."
They went outside and walked for a moment in silence. Finally, Scott gathered the courage to start what he knew would be a very awkward and painful conversation.
"Allison, the moment I saw you for the first time, I instantly felt a connection to you. You're smart, and kind, and clever. In some other circumstances I would already be head over heels in love for you. But right now, I just can't focus on a romantic relationship in a way a girl like you deserves."
"What are you saying, Scott?" asked Allison, her voice shaking a bit.
"I would never forgive myself if I were dishonest with you on this. I'm not looking for a girlfriend, not right now, and not in a foreseeable future either. So, a friendship is really all I can offer you. Would it be enough for you? If you'd rather not see me at all, I'll understand."
The girl took a step back, her lips wobbling. "I thought…" she whispered. "You seemed interested in me before…"
"I'm sorry", he murmured helplessly, not knowing what else to say.
"Don't… Just don't," she said, gathering her dignity around her like a shield, then she marched back to Lydia's house, not looking back at him.
Scott sighed, losing any interest in going back to the party himself. Also, he wasn't even slightly surprised to see Derek emerging from the shadows.
"You heard everything, didn't you?" he asked, not knowing whether to feel annoyed or just resigned to the fact that the older werewolf took his self-appointed task of watching him this seriously.
The man nodded, but seemed hesitant to speak.
"I know it wasn't easy for you, but you did the right thing," he finally said.
"It pains me to see her so lost and hurt," admitted Scott. "All I ever wanted is to keep her safe."
Derek came closer and slowly, as if afraid to spook him, put a hand on Scott's shoulder and squeezed it gently. "Are you alright?"
Scott rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Right now, I feel awful. But with time, it will pass. She will move on, and I'll have other things to worry about."
The older werewolf squeezed Scott's shoulder one last time and took a step back, as if to give the boy more space.
"You're really good at this, you know?" blurted Scott.
Derek just quirked an eyebrow at him.
"You know, this whole mentoring young werewolf thing," explained Scott. "You're looking out for me, you comfort me when I need it, even though I'm probably barely more than a stranger to you. I just wanted you to know that I appreciate it."
The man dropped his gaze, a faint blush appearing on his cheeks.
"You're not really used to receiving compliments, are you?" teased Scott with a gentle smile.
"No one… I mean, I'm not…" Derek muttered, looking entirely out of his element.
"It's okay. I'm sorry, it wasn't my intention to make you uncomfortable."
"You're a menace. I don't know why I even bother," grumbled Derek, but without any true hostility.
The boy smiled, relieved that he didn't manage to sabotage their still fresh rapport. "I'm growing on you, that's why. Anyway, I think I will get my car and go back home. I don't feel like partying anymore."
"That might be best," agreed Derek, but he looked somewhat reluctant.
"Hey, what is it? Is something bothering you?" asked Scott worriedly.
"I just thought that since your mom already thinks you will be staying at the party for a couple of hours longer, it might be a good opportunity to…" the older werewolf hesitated for a moment, "to give you some training on how to control your transformations."
That sounded like a reasonable offer, but the hesitancy with which it was spoken caused Scott to furrow his brows in confusion. The older werewolf seemed to catch at his unease but somehow jumped to the wrong conclusion and a hurt wince appeared on his face. It disappeared quickly, but it was enough for Scott to see it.
"You know what, never mind that. I know that strolling through the woods is not any teenager's idea of having a good time, so I'll just make myself scarce," said Derek coldly, and turned to leave.
Wait, was the older werewolf afraid of being rejected? But that was the complete opposite of the truth!
"I would love to spend more time with you, training or otherwise," said Scott with conviction. He missed his pack, the easy banter that they'd had, the feeling of closeness, of belonging. He couldn't imagine a universe in which he would rather be alone than with the people he cared about, Derek included. "So if the offer still stands, I'd like to take you up on it."
The man turned around to face him and asked, bewildered: "Training or otherwise? Why?"
"Because I enjoy being in your presence, it's as simple as that. I don't know if it's a werewolf thing, or something else entirely, but I do,” Scott explained calmly. “If you don't feel the same and just want to train me out of a sense of obligation so that I don't hurt anyone, just tell me. I would rather know where we stand with each other than allow any misunderstandings to fester and bite us in the ass later."
Derek shook his head in disbelief. "Are you always so open with your feelings? How does it even work, to wear your heart on your sleeve so transparently? Don't you get hurt because of it?" he asked incredulously.
"Even if I do get hurt sometimes, it's worth it," Scott assured the other man. "So what will it be, a training time? A bonding time? Or both?"
The older werewolf gave him a long, piercing look, gauging his honesty.
Scott smiled at him crookedly. "Heart on my sleeve, remember? Your words, not mine."
When Derek returned his smile, Scott felt almost faint with relief.
"I know I should probably focus on your training but you seem so in control of your emotions… Would it be alright with you if I wanted to do both?" the man asked hesitantly.
"It's not only alright, it's perfect!" Scott assured him enthusiastically. "I really think I'm not in any danger of losing control anytime soon, so please stop worrying, but I would actually like to hear more about what being a werewolf entails. You know, our history, all the strengths and weaknesses, things to avoid, these kinds of things."
And if it meant killing two birds with one stone, meaning that he would have a chance to spend some quality time with his packmate AND he would no longer need to hide some of his knowledge once Derek reveals all the finer details of lycanthropy, that was even better.
Once they went back to the parking lot, Scott realized that leaving the party without notifying Stiles was not such a good idea, after all.
"Wait, I realized that I'm just ditching my best friend and he's bound to be unhappy with me. Let me text him first."
"Does your friend know about you being a werewolf?" inquired Derek suspiciously.
"He's… coming around I guess. Getting used to the idea that werewolves might be real, after all," explained Scott absentmindedly while sending a message to Stiles. "He hasn't seen me with teeth and claws yet, though, so I would say that's still work in progress."
"Do you want him to come with us as well?" asked Derek, his face unreadable.
"While I appreciate the gesture, I really do, it's not much of a bonding time if there's three of us, right? Besides, Stiles may be… a lot to get used to," Scott explained awkwardly. "I don't want you to succumb to a temptation of hitting or maiming him, and believe me, you will be tempted to do so, like, each time he opens his mouth. So, I need to figure out the best way to introduce the two of you without worrying about such a meeting ending in a complete disaster."
Of course, because it was just his luck, that was the exact moment when Stiles found them.
"Hey man, what is this with you breaking up with Allison even if you weren’t a couple in the first place, and then you texting me about running away with Derek Hale of all people? You remeber that he's under suspicion of being involved in that girl's murder, right?" Stiles blurted, looking suspiciously at the two of them standing close to each other.
Scott only shrugged helplessly as if conveying a 'you see what I meant' message with his body and then said to Derek: "Don't maim him, please? It's just the way he is, but he's a good guy, I promise."
The older werewolf just looked at him, unimpressed, and crossed his arms.
"Just give me a moment and I'll sort it out," Scott assured.
"Fine. You have 3 minutes," the man said and went to his car, leaving the two teenagers behind him.
"Dude? What's happening and why did you just have a weird silent communication with this guy? You’re allowed to have any kind of silent communication only with me, your best friend!" Stiles protested.
Scott sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling an impending headache. "Derek is a werewolf just like me, no, he didn't bite me, another werewolf did it, and no, he didn't kill that girl either. I'm going with him so that I can learn more about being a werewolf and yes, you'll get the full report on that tomorrow morning, I promise."
Stiles looked stupefied. “Man, I thought you didn’t believe me when I suggested that you might be a werewolf! And now you’re saying that this Derek guy is one of them too?”
One look at the impatient frown on Derek’s face while he was sitting in his car made Scott wince.
“Yes, and I don’t want to have an angry werewolf on my hands right now. So please, could we just agree to talk tomorrow morning? I really have to go, Stiles,” he urged.
“OK fine, go, but if he murders you after all, don’t you dare coming back as a ghost to haunt me, because I will have only one thing to say to you: ‘I told you so’!” Stiles huffed.
“You’re the best friend ever!” Scott beamed at him and kissed him playfully on the cheek, laughing at the bright red blush momentarily appearing on his face.
It was good to be among friends.
Chapter Text
Once they arrived at the Hale residency, Scott's good mood vanished instantly. This place was so full of bad memories he was sure he was bound to have some nightmares afterwards.
Derek was solemn, too, as he led Scott inside.
"I'm sorry I don't have a better place to take you to. I don't… entertain guests often, lately," the man explained awkwardly as they sat on an old couch covered in dust and cobwebs.
"Don't worry about it," Scott assured him. "If this is your family house, you must have lots of memories connected to this place. If it helps you remember your loved ones, then I don't care how this place looks like, I'm happy that you trusted me enough to bring me here."
Derek looked at him thoughtfully.
"Sometimes when I'm talking to you, I feel like you're an adult in a teenager's body. And then you're back to your cheerful, carefree self and the feeling's gone. This is very… disconcerting, to be honest."
Scott shivered, as these words came almost too close to the truth. Coming here, he had hoped that Derek would open up to him enough to tell him about the fire that killed most of his family, about Laura, and about the vendetta spiral that the Alpha was leaving near his murders. Instead, he felt like a cheater, trying to reveal Derek's secrets while pretending to be a teenager while he was anything but.
"Derek, before you tell me anything, anything at all, I want you to know that I have been keeping some secrets of my own", he admitted hesitantly. "Like, why I have so good control over myself. Why I accepted being a werewolf so quickly. In fact, I have so many secrets it's maddening to act like a normal teenager."
Derek momentarily stiffened beside him.
"No, don't do that, don't shut me out, please," begged Scott. "I want to reveal all of them to you, I swear, but I don't know if I can, not yet. But I will trust you with one of them, one of the biggest, to show you that I trust you and that I wish that you would be able to trust me in return. No one else knows about this yet, you will be the first to know."
"What is it, then?" the older werewolf demanded coldly, impatiently, and Scott despaired to have lost his trust so quickly.
He got up from the couch and closed his eyes for a moment, letting his memories overcome him, memories of his pack from a no longer existing timeline, and how he would literally do anything and everything to protect them from harm. Because that was what being a True Alpha really meant: being a protector.
When he opened his eyes, he knew that his transformation was complete, down to every detail… including ruby red irises.
Derek let out a strangled noise and visibly shivered as Scott came closer. "You're the Alpha?! You… you killed Laura!"
In a second, Derek transformed and he was attacking Scott with a fury that was a sight to behold, claws ready to rip the teenager to shreds.
Too bad Scott was having none of it. He did not intend to fight with his packmate, not now, not ever. Batting Derek's hands away from himself, he pinned him to the ground, grabbed the man's throat in a vice-like grip and roared.
It was the Alpha Roar, infused with a command that could not be refused. Transform back.
Derek's eyes flashed blue and his body was turned back to that of a human, which was no match for an Alpha. The man struggled for a moment, tears leaking from his eyes, before he stopped fighting, going still.
Scott let him go then and returned to the coach, watching as the man panted and shivered on the ground. Once he was certain that Derek was not going to attack him again, he changed back to his teenage body.
"I did not kill your sister," he said tiredly. "It was the other Alpha who did this, not me. Next time I would appreciate being asked rather than assaulted, thank you very much."
Derek got up from the ground and looked at him wearily, massaging his bruised throat. "What do you want from me?" he croaked.
"I wanted you to be a part of my pack, but right now… nothing. It was a mistake to come here, and under false pretenses no less. I won't bother you again." Scott got up from the couch and went to the door, Derek visibly flinching when he moved. "For what it's worth… I'm sorry for deceiving you," he said gently, hoping to convey his regret, but the man said nothing, his posture hunched and stance defensive.
Scott left, closing the doors behind him, his eyes burning with unshed tears.
***
Once the sound of Scott's car driving away turned to silence, Derek unfroze and dropped to his knees, curling to a tight ball of muscles, tears and bitter regret.
Scott was an Alpha. This kind, warm, sympathetic kid was an Alpha, and a strong one no less, so fucking strong that Derek's teeth still rattled from fright at the mere reminder of the powerful roar that had rendered him helpless in a second.
Scott was an Alpha, and he was not Laura's killer. He had wanted Derek to be a part of his pack, but instead Derek had attacked him like he was a foolish, emotions-driven kid, and not the other way around. And Derek just might have irreparably destroyed any chance at getting into Scott's pack.
Derek acutely remembered all the kind words the teenager had said to him before everything went down to hell.
I would love to spend more time with you.
I enjoy being in your presence, it's as simple as that.
I don't care how this place looks like, I'm happy that you trusted me enough to bring me here.
Don't shut me out, please!
For what it's worth… I'm sorry for deceiving you.
The human in Derek was hurt and angry at being lied to, his pride bruised and his trust - which he didn't give easily - thrown to his face like it was garbage.
But the wolf in Derek howled with despair, he was alone, alone, no family, no pack, no one who cared, only pain and darkness. The wolf didn't care for pride, it was a foreign concept which he had no understanding of. He had only ever wanted to be a part of the pack, to be near his Alpha.
Those two sides of Derek battled with each other for what seemed like the longest time in his life. Never before had his two natures been so at odds with each other, and it was tearing him apart.
Finally, all muscles in his body gave in under the pressure and Derek went limp on the floor, exhausted to the bone. Almost disconnected from his own self, he wondered what was left of him, if anything, after such a battle.
After a moment of soul-searching he realized that there was no anger, hurt or pride left. There was only yearning.
He got up shakily, first to his knees, then to all fours, before he was able to stand straight. He tried to transform into his werewolf form but for the first time in his entire life he felt a resistance there.
'Alpha forbid. Need to gain Alpha's approval first', the wolf inside him growled lowly.
He was tired, so tired. But he needed to see Scott. He needed Scott. Slowly, dragging his feet tiredly, he went to his car. He was thankful it was still the middle of the night, and he managed not to cause any car crushes while driving in such a state.
Once he parked outside of the boy's house, he almost cried at his own stupidity. How was he supposed to get into Scott's room if he no longer had the werewolf strength or agility? He couldn't just knock to the front door as that would surely awake his mother, instead. Should he just wait 'till morning when Scott will be going to school, then? He didn't think he was able to wait that long.
Involuntarily, he whined lowly in despair, not like a wolf, but like a beaten dog pleading for his master's mercy.
And it seemed that the Alpha heard his distress call, as after a moment the window to Scott's room opened and the boy jumped from the roof to the ground effortlessly. At the mere thought of facing the teen, Derek felt his body shaking, and he got out of the car while he still had the courage to do so.
"Derek, is that you? What are you doing here?" asked Scott quietly, coming closer but stopping a couple of steps from the shaking werewolf.
"I needed to see you," croaked Derek, leaning heavily on his car and trying desperately not to fall and make a fool out of himself.
"What's wrong?” inquired Scott. “Are you hurt?"
“Yes. No. I mean, it’s nothing physical,” Derek tried to explain but then his strength left him and he would have fallen onto the street gracelessly if it weren’t for Scott’s quick reflexes when the boy grabbed him and supported his weight with his own body.
“Derek, you’re scaring me. Please, tell me what’s wrong,” the teen pleaded. “I don’t care if you’ll go back to hating me afterwards, just tell me what I can do to help you, and I will.”
“I don’t… hate you. I think I did, for a moment, but I was hurt and angry then. But I’m not, not anymore. Would you please consider accepting me into your pack? Please,” since he had no pride left, not in this, he wasn’t ashamed to plead and beg if needed.
“Derek, you will always have a place in my pack,” the boy assured him. “I just thought you weren't interested since I kept secrets from you, and I still do.”
The older werewolf shook his head. “I don’t care about your secrets. You will tell me about them when you decide it's the right moment, or never. What I want is being a part of a pack, and it means family, care, and protection. I don’t think I want to live any longer without it.”
The teen gently cradled Derek’s face in his palms and asked solemnly: “Are you sure about this?”
“I don’t think I have ever wanted anything this much,” the older wolf admitted, looking into brown eyes which suddenly started glowing with a pure red sheen.
“Very well,” the Alpha murmured, and then he bit Derek at the nape of the man’s neck just with his canine teeth. It was not even a true bite, more like a puncture, but it caused the encompassing warmth to flow through the Beta’s entire body, through muscles, bones, and veins, like a wave of light that ignited his entire being.
Derek straightened, feeling his strength returning. He wasn’t ashamed of his wet cheeks and for the slight tremor that still shook his hands. He had nothing to be ashamed of.
“Come on, let’s get you into the house,” said Scott. “If my mom sees you, just pretend to be drunk and in need of a place to sleep. I’m not letting you out of my sight until you have slept and rested.”
The older werewolf just nodded. He was still in that drunk-like state caused by being accepted into the pack, so pretending it to be alcohol-induced likely won’t be an issue.
When they entered the house, Scott’s mom indeed woke up but the teenager just told her through the door to her bedroom: “My friend is staying for a sleepover since he cannot drive home after drinking too much alcohol. Go back to sleep, mom. Love you,” and that was it.
The younger werewolf led them to his room and then yawned widely. “I don’t know how about you, but I’m knackered. Come on, let’s get you out of these dirty clothes.”
Not feeling even remotely self-conscious, Derek took off his clothes, leaving only his boxers on, and dived straight under the quilt. Scott smiled, or would have smiled if he didn’t yawn again. Laughing quietly, the boy lay down next to his Beta and circled him with his arms.
“This OK?” he murmured sleepily, halfway asleep already.
“It’s perfect,” Derek assured him, closing his eyes and feeling his body relaxing to the steady beat of his Alpha’s heart.
He was home.
Chapter Text
Once he woke up, the warmth and the comforting scent surrounding Derek made him want to purr, as if he was a werecat instead of a werewolf. He opened his eyes and blinked, trying to get his eyes to focus.
Scott was already awake, lying beside him and watching him with an indulgent smile. “You know you’re looking like a mess, right?” the boy teased him good-naturedly, winking at him.
And Derek marveled at that, since he couldn’t remember when was the last time someone had winked at him, if ever. It made him both self-conscious and happy to know that he just might have found someone who accepted him for who he was.
“‘m sorry,” he murmured finally.
“Don’t be. You can go shower, and I’ll try to find you some fresh clothes in the meantime. They might be a little bit tight on you, though.”
The older werewolf just nodded, still not saying anything and just looking at the teen.
“Hey, everything’s alright?” Scott asked worriedly.
“I’m fine. I’m just… Not used to all of this, I guess,” Derek admitted, feeling embarrassed at his own inability to deal with kindness like a normal human being.
Scott looked worried for a moment, then said warmly: “Hey, don’t do that. Don’t doubt yourself, or us. I know that it will take time to get used to, but I want you to know that I’m with you every step of the way.”
"Is giving motivational speeches an acquired skill, or a natural talent of yours?" teased Derek.
"It's as easy as breathing, you know, with me being a True Alpha? I'm a natural at this," Scott smiled widely, while Derek froze like a statue.
A True Alpha?...
The teen must have realized that something was amiss, as he explained: "Did you really think I murdered some other Alpha to become what I am? I would never kill anyone for power, you know."
Derek swallowed heavily. Yesterday, when he had seen Scott's red eyes, he hadn't stopped to think twice before attacking him, he had been so furious and mad with grief. Now, though, as he thought about it, it made perfect sense. The boy didn't strike him as a killer, but he was a natural leader. If anyone was a True Alpha material, it would be Scott.
"I'm sorry I attacked you yesterday," the older werewolf said hoarsely, but the boy just shook his head.
"What's done is done, I don't want to hear any more apologies from you today, alright? Now, get up before my mom starts wondering what we're up to."
The boy gave him a set of fresh towels and a new toothbrush, then shooed him to the bathroom. In the shower, Derek allowed his thoughts to wander. He really needed to get his shit together. He was a part of the pack now, and he had his responsibilities. He wanted to show his Alpha that he was strong and trustworthy, and that Scott could count on him in every aspect. So, as much as it was liberating to allow himself to be vulnerable and insecure for a while, he needed to regain his confidence and strength, now.
With that resolve, he stepped out from the bathroom, a towel around his hips, only to almost barge into Scott's mother, whose eyes turned wide as saucers at the sight of him, bare torso and all.
"Good morning, Mrs McCall," he said after a moment of awkward staring at each other, and promptly fled to Scott's room.
It seemed it was just not his day.
***
Scott looked up from his drawer when Derek entered the room in a hurry and closed the doors behind him, looking as if he was running away from the Wild Hunt, at the very least.
"... I just ran into your mother," the older werewolf said, as if it explained everything.
And somehow, it did. Scott laughed aloud at his Beta's discomfited posture.
"Come on, try these on. I don't think I've ever seen you in sweatpants before, but I don't have anything else that will fit you. Unless you would rather wear your own clothes? They are not the cleanest, but I want you to feel comfortable."
In the end, Derek decided to wear his own jeans but Scott's t-shirt, a plain grey one which suited him just fine, even if it was slightly tight on his arms.
They went downstairs together, where Scott's mother was already waiting for them.
"Hi mom! This is Derek, thank you for letting him stay for the night," the boy introduced his friend.
Mrs McCall looked at their guest with a slight blush on her cheeks, it was barely there, but to Scott's keen eyes it was pretty obvious.
"Hi Derek, nice to meet you, just call me Melissa, please. Are you Scott's friend from the school?"
"I… no, I've already finished school," said Derek stiffly, not knowing how to explain their relationship to her without revealing anything supernatural.
He was saved from saying anything else, as Stiles barged into the house. "Scott! You won't believe whose car is parked outside your house!..." the boy exclaimed, then realized who else was in the room with them. "What the hell? What is he doing here?"
"Hello, Stiles, nice to see you too," said Melissa with emphasis, raising her eyebrows at his lack of manners. "You and Derek, you know each other?" she looked at the two of them, both staring daggers at one another.
"We've met," Derek said, being the first one to break the silence.
Scott just rolled his eyes at their antics. "They don't like each other much," he said to his mom in a stage whisper.
"And that's OK with you?" the woman asked incredulously. "You know what, I don't want to know. I need to get going or I'll be late to work. The perks of working at the hospital, the weekend shifts and all. Boys, try not to break anything while I'm gone." And with that, she grabbed her bag and left.
“I didn’t realize it’s Saturday already. But in hindsight, it makes sense. I doubt your mom would allow you to go to the party yesterday if you had school today,” said Derek to Scott, ignoring the third boy altogether.
“You had a lot on his mind, lately. I’m not surprised you didn’t keep track of what day it is,” the teen answered.
“Whoa, Scott, I need a word with you,” said Stiles and he dragged the young werewolf to the kitchen. “What is happening here, hm? Why are you suddenly so… chummy with this guy? You barely even know him!"
Scott looked at him with calmness and patience, which infuriated Stiles to no end. "You know that I love you, Stiles, right? You're my brother in every way that matters. And Derek, he's my family too, because he's a part of my pack now. So believe me when I say that I would trust him with my life."
Stiles gaped at him. "You're serious...? You're actually serious about this?"
"Deadly serious," the young werewolf confirmed.
"Okay, then."
"That's it?" asked Scott disbelievingly.
"Look, man, I can't promise to like him, but I will try to tolerate him for your sake," Stiles explained.
The young werewolf beamed at him.
***
All things considered, breakfast was quite a calm affair. After the previous day's emotional rollercoaster, neither Scott nor Derek wanted to discuss any sensitive subjects. However, both werewolves agreed to show Stiles their claws and fangs, and the boy yelped loudly the first time he saw them. He quickly managed to overcome his fear, though, and actually wanted to touch said body parts, to which Scott readily agreed and Derek threatened to rip the boy in half if he so much as looked at his claws with too much interest.
Thankfully, Sheriff Stilinski chose that moment to call his wayward son back home, and Scott breathed deeply in relief at another crisis averted.
Once they were alone, Scott finally found the courage to ask Derek about his lodging arrangements.
"I know that you're staying at your family house, but it just doesn't seem safe to me," he explained. "That location would be the first one on the list to check if anyone wanted to catch you. I would feel much better if you bought or rented something in a more populated area, you know?"
The older werewolf didn't look too happy at the suggestion, and answered noncommittally that he'll think about it.
Scott didn't try to force the issue, as he knew it would only make the matter worse. Some decisions just needed more time than others, and he had the feeling that he needed to be patient with this one. However, he did insist on exchanging phone numbers and asked Derek not to do anything reckless, like attacking the other Alpha or the hunters on his own.
Saying goodbye to Derek and watching him leave was surprisingly hard, but he knew he couldn't just smother his Beta with overprotectiveness. The older werewolf had his own life, and he didn't need Scott to be such a mother-hen, right?
And last but not least, Scott had his own affairs to take care of, such as going to work to the animal clinic for his afternoon shift and meeting Alan for the first time since he had traveled to the past. He needed to go there soon and he still didn't know how to approach Deaton and how many details to reveal to him.
This wasn't going to be an easy conversation, he just knew that.
Chapter Text
Scott stepped inside the animal clinic and turned the sign at the door to “CLOSED”, but stopped before the counter, feeling a magical barrier there. Ah, he forgot about the mountain ash tree. Clever move, dr Deaton, very clever.
"Scott, is everything alright? Why are you just standing there?"
The werewolf looked at his boss and couldn't help but feel a bit of resentment. First time around, Deaton hadn’t revealed his true role as a druid and an emissary until much later. How easier would it have been to accept being a werewolf if the man had offered to Scott his guidance earlier?
"I would need to receive your invitation first in order to cross the mountain ash barrier and you are well aware of it, emissary. Or aren’t you an emissary anymore? It looks to me you’ve done a poor job of it, anyway.”
The man blanched, hearing that. "You’re not Scott. Who are you? Why are you disguising yourself as him?”
“Oh, I am Scott, doctor, no need to fret about that,” he assured the man, trying to rein in his anger. “I’m just an Alpha werewolf who does not look kindly at an emissary shirking his duties for years now.”
Deaton’s face was unreadable as he said: “There is no pack for me to provide guidance to.”
“That’s a lie and you know it. Derek Hale is alive! Hell, Peter’s alive too, even if he's insane at the moment. They are the people you were sworn to protect!” Scott growled. “You have failed them, and you keep failing them still.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. This doesn’t concern you, and frankly speaking, I don’t appreciate you casting aspersions on my decisions,” said Alan coldly.
Scott sighed heavily. This conversation was definitely not going the way he wanted. “Look, I didn’t come here to argue. May I come in?” he inquired.
“And if I say no?” asked Deaton, looking at him wearily, arms crossed over his chest defensively.
“Then the discussion that we’re going to have we’ll be extremely uncomfortable with both of us standing like that,” answered Scott with a nervous smile.
“Come in, then,” allowed Deaton after a long moment of weighing his options.
Once they were both seated they fell into uncomfortable silence.
“Look, doctor, I’m not here to fight with you,” Scott broke the silence finally. “I’m an Alpha now, Derek’s my Beta and I’ll be taking care of him to the best of my abilities. I’m also working on Peter’s case but that’s still work in progress. I can handle a feral Alpha and hunters bent on killing werewolves, so I don’t need any help with that.”
With Scott’s each word Alan’s eyebrows raised higher and higher. “Aren’t you overestimating your abilities, Scott? How long have you been an Alpha? This surely is still a new experience for you, so please try to remember that Alphas are not indestructible. You’re not indestructible,” the man warned.
“With everything else that is going on behind the scenes? Hunters are the least of my problems,” said Scott, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “Tell me, what do you know of the Beacon Hills’ Nemeton?”
Seeing the guarded expression on the druid’s face, this was certainly the last question he had expected to hear, and certainly not the one he wanted to answer.
“Why? What’s it to you?” the man asked suspiciously.
“I’m asking because as long as the Nemeton remains… crippled, for lack of a better term, Beacon Hills cannot be a safe haven for all the supernatural beings as it is supposed to be. That’s why I need to find a way to regrow it, to reinstate it to its former power. And the only way I know of to achieve that is through human sacrifice, which I’m not too keen on,” explained Scott with a grimace. “So, I need you to research the topic and find out if there are any other ways to do that, no matter how incredulous or hard to accomplish.”
Deaton looked at him thoughtfully for a long moment.
“I believe that you are Scott McCall, but your knowledge of arcane matters known only to druids cannot be explained by you being turned into a werewolf,” he finally said. “So, I guess you’re also someone or something else, and to be frank, I’m not sure I can trust you. So no, I’m not going to help you until I discover who you really are.”
Scott closed his eyes for a moment, trying to rein in his frustration with the man.
“Well, I’m not sure I can fully trust you, either, so I guess we’re even on that. But take this into consideration: your past inaction and reluctance to fully dedicate yourself to a cause has already caused more harm than good. By doing nothing, you’re already making a decision, and sooner or later we will all reap the consequences,” he said harshly.
The werewolf stood up and turned to leave, but Deaton called out after him: “You didn’t really expect me to just trust you on your word, did you?”
Scott turned around to face the man. “I expected you to be able to distinguish friend from foe, but you made it perfectly clear that’s not the case.”
He left without a word, not looking back. This part of his past, the safe spot that the animal clinic had always been to him, it was lost to him now. He was on his own.
***
Derek trailed around his house, trying to remember all the good things that had happened here, but only managing to ignite the pain of his family’s deaths. He didn’t know why he clinged to this place with such desperation; it wasn’t as if he found any kind of solace here. Maybe he was simply reluctant to let go of yet another link to his past, to his heritage?
Sitting on the couch he managed to catch his Alpha’s smell and relaxed marginally. Trying not to feel too self-conscious, he lay down, trying to bury himself in the comforting scent and forget everything else.
He missed Scott already, and he hated himself for being so clingy. He knew that it was simply a side effect of being accepted to the Alpha’s pack, since such a fresh link usually required more care and physical closeness than a fully matured bond. But Scott had his own life to live and Derek didn’t want to burden the teen with his needs.
When his phone rang, Derek almost fell from the coach from the sheer surprise. Since Laura’s death he had no one to receive phone calls from. That is, until he remembered that he and Scott had exchanged numbers earlier that day and he felt his heart beating excitedly at the thought. He struggled a bit to take out the phone from his pocket, his fingers suddenly clumsy.
“Hi Scott,” he answered the phone, trying not to sound like an emotional wreck that he actually was.
“Hey, Derek, am I interrupting anything?”
“No, nothing at all,” he assured the younger werewolf.
“I just had a row with my boss and I kind of need to blow off some steam, you know? So I thought that maybe we could spar a bit? If you feel up to it, of course,” the teen sounded embarrassed at his own request.
“Sounds good. My place?”
“Perfect! I’ll be there in half an hour. See you!” the boy said then disconnected.
Needless to say, the next thirty minutes Derek spent pacing around the house in both nervousness and excitement. Finally, he heard the steps and he opened the door before Scott even had the chance to knock.
The boy looked surprised but pleased at that and asked jokingly: “Are you that eager to have your ass kicked, or are you just happy to see me?”
In response Derek pulled him to a full body embrace and buried his nose in his Alpha’s neck, inhaling deeply. A small part of him was still afraid of being rejected, but the teen immediately returned his hug without any hesitation or even a hint of embarrassment.
After a moment, Derek released the teen from his arms, but not before breathing in another lungful of his warm, comforting scent.
Scott smiled at him happily, then said: “I missed you too, you know. Being apart from each other so soon after forming the bond is tougher than I thought.”
“I’m glad that you came,” admitted Derek. “Now, what is this about me getting my ass kicked? I’ll have you know that I’ll be doing the kicking, not the other way around.”
“I’m pretty confident I can defeat an old man like you with my eyes closed,” teased Scott.
“Old man, huh? We’ll see about that.”
Saying that, Derek lunged at the teen, aiming at his throat. The boy sidestepped easily, and threw a punch of his own which Derek averted without any problems. They grinned at each other - this was going to be fun.
***
After an hour of intense sparring they were both lying on the floor, panting with extortion.
“Remind me please, whose brilliant idea was that?” mumbled Scott.
“I’m afraid this one’s on you.” Derek groaned as he got up. He needed to get back into shape, and fast, if he wanted to keep up with a younger Alpha. “I’d say this counts as a draw. Agreed?”
Scott just hummed in acceptance, too tired to respond.
Derek smiled indulgently and offered him an arm to help him stand, which the teen happily took.
“Thanks. I think my muscles just turned into liquid. How can you even stand?” Scott asked, impressed. “I’m not calling you old again, like, for the next fifty years or so, You’re body is like a bloody war machine, it would be impressive if it weren’t so scary. Remind me not to piss you off, ever.”
Derek couldn’t help it and he preened at his Alpha’s compliments. Scott actually giggled at seeing his chest puff up with pride.
“Wow, now I can add ‘vain’ to the list of your features,” the boy teased good-naturedly and the older werewolf punched him playfully on the arm in response.
“Aw!” Scott yelped with exaggeration. “I think I’ll also add ‘vengeful’ to that list.”
Derek just rolled his eyes at his antics. “Come on, kid, I better drive you home lest your mother kills me next time she sees me.”
“Hey! Don’t call me kid! I’m sixteen, I’ll have you know.”
“I think you just proved my point, here,” the older werewolf deadpanned and Scott actually pouted.
“I’m taking back every good thing I’ve ever said about you. You’re a mean, mean werewolf,” the teen grumbled, but his eyes were bright with happiness at their easy-going banter.
“I may be a mean werewolf but you know that you love me,” teased Derek but then he realized what he just said and froze momentarily.
Scott looked at him, the playful smirk slowly disappearing from his face as his expression turned serious.
“Of course I love you,” the teen said gently. “And I’m not afraid to say it, you know? You’re my Beta. We’re a pack now, a family, and it means everything to me.”
The older werewolf just stared at him, his throat constricted painfully.
“Don’t feel pressured to say it back, OK? You will once you’re ready,” the teen assured him. “Now, I’ll take you up on your offer, as I don’t think I’ll be able to ride a bike after such an intense workout.”
Derek just nodded, numbly, and allowed himself to be steered outside the house, Scott’s hand feeling impossibly warm on his back.
Chapter Text
The ride home was silent, but not uncomfortably so, and Scott was glad that Derek appeared lost in thought rather than stressed out or depressed. All too soon, they arrived at Scott’s house and it was time to say goodbye. The teen hugged the older werewolf tightly and was happy that Derek returned his embrace.
“Are we good?” the teen asked, just to be sure.
“Of course,” said Derek easily, and the boy couldn’t help the relieved smile at hearing that.
Once he was back home, it took Scott one look at his mother’s serious face to know that he was in trouble. He gulped nervously. “What is it, mom?”
Melissa looked at him sternly, her arms crossed over her chest.
“I need to know what is between you and Derek,” she demanded. “Don’t think I didn’t notice how you two look at each other, and that hug between the two of you? It didn’t look casual, it looked intimate.”
“Mom…”
“Don’t you ‘mom’ me now, Scott McCall. I need you to answer me: are you two involved? Is he using you?”
The teen looked at her, horrified. “No, of course not! It’s… it’s not like that!”
“Then tell me what’s this about, because I’m this close to forbid you from seeing him again,” the woman stressed, incensed.
Scott groaned, tiredly. Just bloody brilliant, he didn’t need another difficult conversation today, but it seemed he had run out of luck, since his mother seemed determined to grill him on this right here and now.
“How about we just sit down, drink some tea and talk, rather than snap at each other? I know that you're just concerned for me, mom, but I don’t need you to scold me right now, I need you to listen."
The woman seemed taken aback at his serious, almost adult-like tone, and nodded wordlessly.
Scott went to the kitchen and waited for the water to boil. Once done, he quickly prepared two mugs of herbal tea, feeling too much under pressure to his liking and hoping that the herbs will help alleviate it at least to some extent. Putting the mugs down on the table and sitting down, he couldn’t help but feel guilty at seeing his mother so stressed out and worried. She didn’t deserve it, neither of them did, to be honest.
“Don’t worry, mom, I’m fine. I just need you to listen to me and be open about what I'm trying to say to you, alright?”
“I’ll try,” the woman said, looking tense.
“Look, mom, do you remember when I was a kid, I used to bring home all the hurt animals I could find, tending to their wounds and driving you crazy with all the cats and hedgehogs running around the house?”
“Of course I remember, thank God Dr Deaton allowed you to help him in his animal clinic, it finally put an end to our house being filled with stray dogs and wild animals,” his mom smiled wistfully at the memories.
“But that’s the point, I’m the same person I was back then, it’s just that this time, I don’t find hurt animals, I find hurt people,” admitted Scott, scratching his neck awkwardly. “Derek’s the first one, but certainly not the last. There’s a boy in my lacrosse team, he’s badly abused by his dad and I want to do everything in my power to help him. And I will, because that’s who I am. I help people. There’s nothing… nefarious, or sexual in nature going on between me and Derek. He’s grieving, and I’m helping him get better. That’s all there is to it.”
His mom looked at him with a worried look on her face. “That’s the thing, Scott, you're a sixteen year old boy, it’s not your job to help and protect other people, that’s what the adults are for. I know that you have a big heart, but you need to stop caring so much or you’ll get hurt, sweetie,” she said mournfully. “Try to remember that Derek’s a couple of years older than you. He’s an adult, he shouldn’t have put his problems on teenager’s shoulders like he did. It’s not right, and he should’ve known better.”
Scott knew that his mother was right. If he were an actual teenager, and a human one at that, rather than a werewolf, it would be unhealthy for him to be so close to Derek. But he was an adult in mind, even if not in body, and he was a werewolf, with animal instincts and needs. He needed his pack.
“Mom, I know that you’re worried about me, but me helping Derek and other people as well, it’s the single, most important thing in my life. Not my school, not my future plans of becoming a vet, nothing compares to this. This is my… call, and I need you to understand and accept it.”
The woman tightened her mouth into a thin line, visibly trying to control her anger. “You know that I could just forbid you from seeing him ever again,” she said tensely.
“I know that. But that would only hurt me deeply, and it would solve precisely nothing. This is who I am, there’s no changing it. So the question is: will you accept me as I am?”
“Fine, but I have two conditions,” his mom finally relented.
“Name them,” said Scott.
“Firstly, you said that you don’t have sexual relations with Derek, and I want you to keep it that way. I wouldn’t mind if you were into boys your age, but someone older than you? That just doesn’t sit well with me,” the grimace on her face was a testament to how truly distasteful she found the idea.
“Mom, please believe me that sex, no matter if it's with a boy or girl, is the last thing on my mind at the moment,” he assured her, and he wasn't even lying; after all, she didn’t say anything about cuddling with his packmates, right? That’s the normal werewolf-ish behaviour in his opinion, and he didn’t think that a hug here or there would hurt anyone, human or supernatural. “But I get you point, no sex with Derek, noted.”
“Secondly, you said that you didn’t care for school anymore. Well, I do care what happens to you in the future and I will not let you throw your life away by helping others but not having the time to take care of yourself,” she warned. “So, the deal is: you keep your grades at least at average level, the ones that you’ll need to become a vet need to be grade B and higher, and all others at least C. If you fail on that, you'll be grounded, and not allowed to see anyone outside of school until your grades get better. Is that clear?”
“Crystal!” Scott smiled and took a sip of his tea, feeling his muscles relax at last.
His mom was awesome, he always knew that, but this just confirmed it. He was lucky to have her.
***
Sunday morning he was helping his mom tending to the backyard when Derek called him.
“Hi Scott, are you free? I wanted to talk with you about something.”
“Sure, what is it?”
“Do you recall your suggestion that I should find a new lodging in the town, since my family house is basically compromised?”
“Yeah, and I didn’t want to pressure you into something you’re not ready for,” he reminded the man while swiping the sweat away from his forehead absentmindedly.
“While I appreciate the sentiment, I think you’re right on that, so I decided to get an apartment near the city centre.”
Knowing how filthy rich the Hale family truly was, Scott supposed that “getting” an apartment might actually mean buying it, or better, buying the whole building while Derek was at it. The older werewolf never did anything by halves and the boy wouldn’t really be surprised if Derek actually went overboard with the whole thing.
“Wow, that’s fantastic! I’m very happy to hear that,” he assured his Beta instead, feeling that such a prompt decision required positive reinforcement, after all.
“I wanted to give you heads up that during the next few days I might be harder to catch since I will be taking care of all the formalities. But still, call me if you need anything, alright?” the man sounded worried and Scott rolled his eyes at that.
“Derek, I’ll be fine, don’t be such a worrywart. Have fun with the apartment-hunting! And please consider finding a place with an actual kitchen, I heard that healthy eating is a thing, you know,” he teased the man.
“Fine, but I’m not cooking anything. You really don’t want to test my cooking skills unless you want to be poisoned.”
Scott snickered at that. “Well, at least you have warned me. Have fun and let me know once you’ve found something nice.”
“Will do. Bye, Scott.”
“Bye, Derek.”
They disconnected and Scott realized that he had been smiling like a loon for the whole time. He couldn’t help it, really, how else was he supposed to act when talking to his packmate? However, his mom apparently didn’t think it was his normal behaviour, as she kept eying him suspiciously.
“Mom, don’t give me that look, we were just talking! Derek’s getting an apartment in town, so he wanted to give me heads up that he might be unavailable for a few days or so.”
"Good," she murmured and went back to gardening.
Scott sighed. Sooner or later she'll come around, he was sure of it.
***
Later that day Scott prepared a list of things to do in the nearest future. He really should've done this earlier, but he had never been much of a planner, he had always preferred to go with his guts and trust his instinct rather than overthink things too much. He'd always had Stiles to do all the strategizing, after all. But since Scott was the time-traveller, surely he could manage doing some planning on his own?
So, the list.
- Help Isaac, the sooner, the better. The poor guy didn't deserve being abused even a day longer than necessary.
- Have a serious talk with Jackson about being a jerk. If that doesn't help, smack him on the head until he gets it.
- Get Lydia and Allison on the board. That might be even harder than teaching Jackson how to be a decent human being.
- Try to prevent Peter from killing anyone without Scott risking his life in the process.
- Capture Peter without killing him. Then, figure out what to do with him once he's actually captured.
- Prevent Kate Argent from ever laying her hands on Derek. Kill her if she so much as tries.
- Try not to antagonize the Argents. Might be difficult to accomplish if he's forced to kill Kate, though.
Scott looked at his list critically. Having a good plan was a start, right?
On the second thought, maybe he might use Stiles' help with it, after all.
Chapter Text
All things considered, Stiles' idea on how to save the men that Peter was so bent on killing had been brilliant in its simplicity. Since they weren’t innocent in the first place, all it took was Scott and Stiles acting like gossiping teenagers and whispering excitedly about a serial killer looking for vengeance for the Hale house fire, in close vicinity of said men. Needless to say, they had been gone from Beacon Hills within 24 hours and no one was the wiser that the two teenagers had even been involved in their disappearance.
Good riddance to them, as Scott hadn’t really wanted to be forced to choose between saving their lives (which he wouldn’t be thrilled about since they were actually guilty) and letting them be killed (which was against his very nature). Allowing them to run away had saved him from making that decision, and he was thankful for that. Going back to school after that allowed him to focus on his pack, which had been and always will be his priority.
During the lunchtime, Lydia marched up to him and Stiles, with Allison trailing reluctantly behind her.
"I don't know what exactly happened at my party, but I'm done with you two gazing at each other mournfully when you think the other is not looking. You need to make up, now, so I can go back to focusing on more important things," announced Lydia bossily.
"And those are...?" inquired Stiles.
Lydia looked at him like he was a bug under her shoe and answered snappily: "Fashion and good looks, what do you think I meant?"
Scott ignored their bickering and looked Allison in the eyes, noticing how flustered and embarrassed she looked at all the attention.
"Girls, maybe you could sit with us?" he suggested mildly.
Whatever Lydia had expected to hear, this wasn't it. She opened her mouth and finding no retort, she sat down on the chair stiffly, Allison following her lead.
"Lydia, while I appreciate what you're trying to do, what happened between Allison and I is private. Unless she's comfortable with me talking about it openly, I won't break her trust like that," Scott said sternly to her and then looked at Allison expectantly.
"I don't mind," the girl said quietly. "Lydia is my friend and I will tell her everything either way."
"Fair enough," he murmured. "Allison, do you know what I see when I look at you?" as the girl shook her head, he continued: "Beauty, fairness and courage. If I was looking for a girlfriend, I would be in heaven if you so much as looked at me. But I'm not. I wish to be your friend, though, the kind of friend who you could count on, no matter what. Would you like that?"
Allison's eyes turned glossy. "Do you really think I'm all that? Beautiful, courageous, fair?"
"Of course you are. And if you don't hear it often enough, I'm going to say this every day until you believe it," promised Scott, then he took the girl's hand with his own and squeezed it lightly.
Allison only smiled at him widely in response.
"Well, it seems that my task is done here," Lydia said with false cheerfulness and started to get up from her chair when Scott took her hand as well.
"Lydia, do you also wish to know what I see when I look at you?" he asked solemnly, changing his focus from Allison to the red-haired girl, who froze at hearing that.
"I don’t particularly care, but let’s pretend for a moment that I do. Tell me, then," she demanded challengingly, her shoulders painfully tense.
"I see a fierce, loyal, intelligent young woman who is trying to hide all that is good in her underneath a mask of bossiness and popularity. But you don’t need to do that, you’re great as you are. So I wanted you to know that I'm here for you, just as I am for Allison. You're both equally special and I don't want you to ever doubt it."
The girl looked open and vulnerable for a moment, before she dropped his hand and scoffed dismissively.
"I'm Lydia Martin, I don't ever doubt myself," with these words, she flipped her hair over her shoulders and left.
"Dude, what was that?!" exclaimed Stiles in shock.
Scott just shrugged, not bothered at all.
"I told her what she needed to hear. It doesn't matter if she dismissed it now. In times of doubt she'll remember it, and that's all that matters," he said calmly.
Allison looked at him with wide eyes. "You take friendship very seriously, don't you?"
"I do. I hope you do too, because I'm not letting you go until you ask me to," he promised.
"It's a deal, then," she said firmly, a familiar glint appearing in her eyes, the kind of fierce fire that he recalled from Allison that he had known in the previous timeline. He was glad to see it again.
“I don’t want to force you to choose between Lydia and us, you know. You can go after her, if you wish. We can always hang out together later,” he offered.
“No, she probably just went to find Jackson to snog him. She always does that when she’s stressed or wants to prove a point.”
Stiles choked on his drink hearing that, spraying the water droplets all around him, and Scott needed to thump him repeatedly on the back. Allison just laughed at them.
***
Feeling good at mending bridges with Allison, Scott went to lacrosse training that day hoping for some nice, relaxing game, no struggles, no savings lives, just a simple pleasure of allowing himself to have fun like a regular teenager (even if technically he was not). He even went to the training slightly earlier, as he couldn’t contain his enthusiasm at the upcoming game. Too bad that the first thing he saw when he entered the locker room was Isaac being held in a vice-like grip by Jackson and being pushed hard against the wall.
“I’m sick of hearing your rows with the daddy dearest, next time he hits you just shut up and take it like a man. I don’t want to hear you bawling your eyes out ever again,” Jackson hissed lowly into Isaac’s ear, as the boy struggled in his grip.
Hearing that, Scott saw red and needed to muster all his control not to lash out.
“What’s going on here?” he called out, instead, balling his hands into fists.
“Piss off, McCall, this doesn’t concern you,” spat Jackson dismissively.
“Like hell it doesn’t,” Scott muttered, before grabbing Jackson from behind and throwing him onto the floor.
“I’m going to say this only once. Don’t hit Isaac ever again, don’t speak to him, don’t even touch him. I won’t ask again. Consider yourself warned,” Scott growled menacingly.
“What are you, his boyfriend? Or a baby-sitter? You’re pathetic, the both of you,” sneered Jackson, getting up.
“It’s none of your business, but if you ever do this kind of shit ever again, I’m going to make you regret it,” promised Scott with conviction.
“Fine, whatever,” Jackson shrugged dismissively, then backed off and left the room in a huff.
Scott released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He turned to Isaac, who was looking at him, shocked, tears still glimmering in his eyes.
“Are you okay?” inquired Scott quietly.
The teen just nodded, shaking slightly on his feet. Scott took his arm and gently steered him onto the bench.
“I’ll be fine,” Isaac muttered finally, his cheeks red and his eyes downcast.
“You know that he’s a jerk, right? Don’t sell yourself short because of what he said.”
“Why do you even care?” Isaac asked defensively.
“Look, I’m not going to just stand by and watch someone being bullied, not on my watch, not if I can help it,” assured Scott.
“What if it’s not your watch?” the boy murmured quietly, dejectedly.
Scott frowned worriedly, but since the players would soon start to gather around for the training, he didn’t have much time to convince Isaac of his sincerity. He dived into his backpack and quickly scribbled his phone number on a loose piece of paper.
“Here’s my number,” he said, placing it on Isaac’s palm and gently closing the boy’s fingers around it. “If you need anything, anything at all, no matter the hour, just text or call me.”
He didn’t wait for the teen to answer as he went to change into his training gear. He only hoped that Isaac will take him up on his offer. He didn’t know what he would do if the boy rejected it.
***
Isaac glanced incredulously at the small piece of paper lying innocuously on the palm of his hand. He couldn’t believe that not only someone had noticed that he was being bullied, but had actually offered their help. With trembling hands, he carefully hid the piece of paper into the pocket of his jeans, and started to change into his training gear, trying and failing miserably not to look at the other boy, Scott, every now and then.
Later, during the lacrosse training, Isaac went through the motions like an automa, and he was fairly sure that his performance was quite dreadful. He was tired and weary, and he knew that he still had to go to the graveyard to work tonight. Usually, his job served to calm him as it was a safe place in contrast to going back home when he never knew what mood he would find his father in.
But today he was too sore on the inside, he felt battered, confused and strangely hopeful, and he didn’t know what to do with himself. Arriving at the graveyard, he toyed with Scott’s phone number for a moment before tearing the piece of paper in half, once, twice, threw what was left of the paper away and then he hid his face in his hands, ashamed of his own cowardice. Not only was he too afraid to defend himself, he was also too much of a coward to actually take up on an offer of help!
Sniffing miserably, he knelt on the ground and gingerly picked up the pieces of the paper he had carelessly thrown away the moment before. Feeling totally useless and inadequate, he tried to put the paper back together in the dim light of the graveyard lamps.
Was it 6 or 9? And this digit, was it supposed to be 7 or 1?...
Finally, when he was fairly sure he got the number right, he picked up the phone and pushed the call button, afraid to lose his resolve if he waited any longer.
The next three signals were one of the longest in his life, but finally he heard: “Hello, it’s Scott, who is this?”
“Hi… It’s Isaac,” the teen said hesitantly. “Earlier, you said that I may call you...”
“Hi Isaac, sure! I’m glad you’ve taken me up on that offer. Is everything alright?”
“I know that it’s late and everything, I just wanted to talk with someone and I thought that… maybe, you wouldn't mind?” Isaac finished awkwardly.
“Of course I don’t mind. Do you wish to talk over the phone or would you rather we met in person?”
Isaac stopped breathing for a moment, then swallowed with difficulty. Phone conversation was easier, more detached, safer. Meeting in person, though… How many times had he dreamt of someone who would be there for him? Who would be willing to spend time with him?
But did he dare to risk it?
“Isaac? Are you still there?” he heard the other teen calling him with worry.
“I’m here. I wish we could meet, but I’m working at the moment,” there, he found a valid excuse not to meet, and a truthful one at that.
“You work at the graveyard, right? I could meet you there and keep you company. Don’t feel pressured, though. I won’t mind if you say no.”
What was with this boy, Scott, that he knew all the right buttons to push, to break down Isaac's walls?
“That would be great,” he finally said, and was surprised that he actually meant it.
Chapter Text
Isaac tried to focus on doing his job, he really did, but somehow digging graves was the last thing on his mind while he waited for Scott to arrive. He was nervous that he’ll only make a fool out of himself, or that he’ll reveal too much and scare the other boy away.
How did one actually mention having an abusive father in a casual conversation, anyway? Should he just say it up front and hope that Scott will not be disgusted with him, or should he skirt around the subject, trying to gauge the other boy’s reaction first?
By the time Scott’s bike appeared at the graveyard’s gate, Isaac was already a nervous wreck and considered calling the whole meeting off, then hiding in one of the freshly made grave holes just to wither and die out of sheer misery.
“Hi Isaac,” Scott greeted him with a bright smile which looked almost otherworldly compared to the graveyard’s somber, gloomy atmosphere. “I thought you might be hungry, so I brought some tea and my mom’s apple pie. Do you think we will both fit into your digger?”
Isaac just looked at him, shocked, confused and secretly pleased. He didn’t know what to say, so he just led the boy to the excavator, trying not to have an emotional breakdown here and now. He was shook out of his stupor only once a warm mug was pushed into his hands and Scott looked at him expectantly. Almost instinctively, he took a sip of the hot lemon tea and Scott smiled again, seeing that.
“Look, Isaac, I understand that we don’t know each other that well and that I might be coming on too strongly with this friendship attempt, so I just want you to tell me if I’m becoming too much for you to handle, alright? Can you do that for me?”
Seeing the genuine care on Scott’s open face, Isaac nodded mutely. He took another sip of tea just to clear his throat, and then asked hesitantly: “Do you hear this often? That you’re too much, I mean?”
“Not recently, no. Not since I found friends who accept me as I am. But before, yes, I've heard it all the time. That I’m too emotional, too sensitive, too needy. Too everything, to be honest,” Scott smiled mournfully.
“I think I might be like that, too,” Isaac admitted hesitantly. “But since I’ve no one to be open about it, I guess I just tend to… bottle up things inside me all the time.”
“I’m glad you’ve let me come here tonight, then. I don’t want you to bottle up your emotions anymore. I’ve been there, and it’s not a great place to be, you know? I wouldn’t wish it on anyone,” Scott said quietly, emphatically.
Isaac felt his eyes water, so he focused hard on not falling apart in front of the other teen.
After a moment of silence, Scott resumed speaking: “I heard what Jackson said to you earlier, and I’m good at reading between the lines, so I just wanted you to know that I probably have a good idea of what you’re going through. So if you don’t want to, we don’t need to talk about it. I’m fine with just sticking to getting to know each other, but if you wish to open up about the difficult stuff as well, I’m here.”
Scott’s genuine understanding and unassuming helpfulness was Isaac’s undoing. He felt his body shuddering involuntarily and he let out a quiet sob. He closed his eyes hard, desperately trying to stop it, to contain his pain and hurt, but he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t breathe.
Gentle hands took the mug away from him and he felt an arm circling him, pulling him close to a warm body, another hand buried itself in his hair and started to caress it soothingly. Isaac cried harder, because it felt so good, so unbearably good he almost couldn’t take it but a steady voice kept telling him repeatedly that it was okay, that he wasn’t weak, that it was alright to cry, so cry he did.
After what felt like an eternity, the sobs subsided and Isaac slowly came back to his senses. His head throbbed painfully, his face was a mess and he realized that he had just fallen apart in the arms of a near stranger. It would be mortifying if Isaac wasn’t feeling so void and empty from all the crying.
After a moment Scott moved, not entirely releasing him from his embrace, but keeping it loose and unthreatening, just an arm swung around his shoulders. Isaac blinked, trying to get his eyes to focus, when a handkerchief appeared before him. He took it and blew his nose, apologizing quietly.
“It’s alright, don’t apologize,” Scott whispered back, caressing his back with gentle strokes. “Please tell me if I should stop. I’m a rather affectionate guy, but if it makes you uncomfortable, just tell me.”
It did make Isaac feel slightly awkward, but most of all, it made him feel safe. Cared for. He couldn’t remember when was the last time he had felt this way.
“Don’t stop,” he murmured, sighing and leaning closer to the other teen, feeling his eyes closing again.
“Hey, don’t fall asleep on me,” Scott protested with a crooked smile. “The digger can’t be the most comfortable place to sleep.”
Isaac blinked, remembering where they were. What he was supposed to be doing. “Oh God, I really need to get back to work.”
Scott released him from his arms entirely and told him sternly: “For now, you will eat and drink to get some of your energy back. You will feel better afterwards, trust me on this.”
“Do you need to go home, already?” asked Isaac, hating himself for how desperate he sounded.
“Not yet, but eventually, yes. But don’t think about it now, just try to focus on the here and now. And no more difficult topics for today, okay?”
Isaac nodded and bit into his piece of the apple pie. It was deliciously sweet, and the sugar actually did make him feel slightly better, just as the other teen had predicted.
After they finished eating, Isaac focused on completing his job for today, while Scott kept talking in a soft, steady voice about his mom, his friends, and his work at the animal clinic. Before they knew it, it was time to leave, and Isaac realized that he felt more relaxed than he’d had for a very long time.
***
The next day, Scott went to school wondering how he was supposed to treat Isaac now. The werewolf inside him told him to hold on to this boy, his future packmate, and not to leave his side for a second. From the very moment his Alpha’s protective instincts had been triggered the other day in the locker room, staying detached and giving the other teen the space he probably needed was going to be hard.
Thankfully, the human side of Scott was more reasonable and was of a mind to just let Isaac set up the pace and the direction their relationship was going.
Yesterday, he had let Isaac to break apart, encouraged him to cry and comforted him to the best of his abilities, because the boy needed to let go of all the emotions he had been bottling up inside him for so long now. But now, he wanted to help Isaac feel strong again, to gain self-confidence he was sorely in need of, and it couldn’t be done if Scott just smothered him with overprotectiveness. So, he decided that today he would let Isaac come to him if he so wished, and accept it if the boy would rather keep his distance, instead... Even if it would make Scott totally miserable.
The two of them didn’t have a chance to speak until the break. Scott had seen Isaac shooting uncertain looks at him throughout the day, and he made sure to smile at the other boy, but that was it. Finally, when it was the time for lunch, Isaac hovered uncertainly for a moment, before steeling his resolve and coming to the table where Scott was already seating with Stiles.
“Um, hi, would you mind if I joined you?” the teen asked shyly.
“Sure we don’t mind!” Scott smiled at him widely and scooted over to make him some room, then turned to his friend who was watching the two of them, confused. “Stiles, you know Isaac, right? He’s in our lacrosse team, but I don’t know if you've had the chance to meet each other properly.”
“Not yet, no,” Stiles admitted. “So, you two know each other well?” he asked suspiciously.
Isaac sat down next to Scott and explained to Stiles: “I was working late yesterday evening and Scott dropped by to bring me some snacks. We started to talk, and I guess that things just… progressed from there.”
Scott hid his smile by taking a bite of his lunch. That was so vague he had a feeling that he should never introduce Isaac to Deaton; the two of them would be insufferable together.
He felt his smile drop in an instant as he remembered his last conversation with the emissary. “Oh shit, Stiles, I forgot to tell you. Last weekend I had a row with my boss and I just left. I don’t know if I’m still working there after all that. What am I supposed to do, now?”
Stiles looked at him, flabbergasted. “You had a row with dr Deaton? About what?”
Scott groaned and hid his face in his hands.
“I might have… told him he was doing a shitty job,” he mumbled.
Stiles almost choked on his food. “Man, what were you thinking? And how did that happen, anyway? You were always saying that the doc is like a vet genius or something. You loved working with him!”
“I know,” said Scott miserably.
Isaac looked at them, then said uncertainly: “Scott, maybe you could just try to talk to him and apologize? Tell him that you didn’t mean it.”
“That’s the point, I meant it. Because I wasn’t referring to his job as a vet, I know that he has this second job and he’s been really failing at it lately. So I just told him to stop shirking his responsibilities, or something like that,” Scott said awkwardly. Explaining his row with Deaton without referring to anything supernatural was difficult as hell.
“But was it your place to tell him that? And even if you meant it, that doesn’t mean that you can’t apologise for the way you acted, right?” said Isaac, biting his lip.
Scott perked up at that suggestion. “You’re right, I can do that! While I meant everything that I said to him, I was a real jerk about it, and I know I could’ve handled it better. Thanks for the advice!” he beamed at the teen, who blushed at the attention.
Stiles kept shooting them weird looks but Scott mouthed to him ‘later’ and Stiles just rolled his eyes at him.
That’s what he loved about Stiles: Scott could throw everything at him, supernatural or not, and Stiles just shrugged and went along with it, just because he trusted Scott.
***
Alan jumped slightly when his phone rang, but seeing that the number belonged to Scott, he hesitated a bit too long and the phone stopped ringing before he made up his mind if he wanted to have a conversation with the teenager (or whoever he was) or not.
A moment later, he received an info that he’s got a voice message. Sighing heavily, he decided that the least he could do was to actually hear out what the boy had to say, and then decide if he wanted to ring him back or just text him not to contact him again.
He pushed the button to replay the message.
“Hi dr Deaton, I just wanted to apologise for how I acted on Saturday. I let my anger get the best of me and I’m sorry, I know that I could’ve handled our conversation better. I still stand by what I said, but no matter what happened in the past with the Hale pack, Beacon Hills needs its druid and emissary. Also, I enjoyed working with you in the animal clinic, so if you still want my help with that, just let me know.”
Despite himself, Alan was actually impressed by how adult and well-thought out the apology was, and how it made Scott’s true personality shine out. This wasn’t a doppelganger, or an imitation of the boy, it was pure Scott, with an open heart and a strong belief that with enough effort all wrongs can be made right.
But that still didn’t explain the boy’s knowledge of the Nemeton and all other things that he shouldn’t be aware of, even if he was a werewolf.
So, it appeared that Scott McCall was a riddle wrapped in mystery, and Deaton had never been a person to shy away from a puzzle that needed to be solved, and he especially didn’t intend to let go of this particular puzzle, either. Also, if he allowed Scott to keep working for him, he would have a better chance to observe the teen closely and look for more clues to figure out his secrets.
Making a decision, he texted the boy: “You’re forgiven. If you have a free afternoon, I could use your help at the clinic, today.”
After a moment, Scott messaged him back: “Brilliant, thanks boss! I’ll be there at five.”
Alan smiled to himself. The game was on.
Chapter Text
Going back to the animal clinic was a pure relief to Scott. The teen had been nervous that Deaton would insist on grilling him on the source of his knowledge, but the man seemed happy enough to just pretend like their argument had never happened. They quickly fell into a familiar rhythm, working side by side and gradually Scott felt his muscles relaxing. He even talked with Alan about Isaac and asked if he could bring the teen with him to work once in a while. The man agreed easily and Scott smiled at him with gratitude.
He had missed this for much too long, both in his future that was now lost to him, and here in the present. It was good to have the druid on his side back again, even if their truce was only temporary. But he already had too much on his plate, and he really needed to focus on all the things that he wanted to change, people he intended to save, starting from his friends. So yes, he could enjoy having a fragile peace with his boss, no matter how illusory or temporary it was.
***
This time around, Scott knew what to expect so he quickly spotted Matt Daehler's obsession with Allison. The teen often followed her from a distance, which made it harder for others to pinpoint just what, or who, he was taking the pictures of. Scott itched to take care of the unhinged boy the werewolf's way, with his own teeth and claws, but he knew that he couldn't indulge himself so. He needed to be smart about it.
So, first, he needed to pretend not to know the teen and “learn” who he is so that if he was asked about it later, he would have an alibi ready.
"Isaac, do you know this guy with a camera, by any chance?" he asked Isaac one day when they went outside to catch some sun.
"Who? Oh, that's Matt. We used to be friends, but one day we just… fell apart, I guess. I don't really know why," Isaac said, dejectly.
Scott briefly squeezed his shoulder in sympathy. "If he was so stupid to neglect your friendship, that's his loss and my gain."
Isaac blushed slightly, but a small, pleased smile appeared on his face. Scott just steered their conversation to another topic, to avoid embarrassing the shy teen even further.
Later, he managed to catch Allison between classes. "Hi, Allison, do you have a moment?" he asked her.
"Yes, of course. What is it?"
"Have I done something wrong? I couldn't help but notice that you're spending a majority of your time with Lydia and Jackson, and I… I guess I just missed you," he said sincerely, because he did miss the girl, a lot.
"I'm so sorry, Scott, I really am! It's just that Lydia is my best friend and she doesn't…" Allison hesitated for a moment, looking for the right words, "... like you that much," she finished awkwardly.
"I'm not her favourite person, I'm aware of that,” he agreed easily. “You know that I don't want you to feel pressured to divide your time between us, right? But I also don't want the two of us to grow apart, so I thought that maybe we could study together from time to time?" he asked her hopefully.
"That's a great idea!" she agreed enthusiastically. "I have a free afternoon tomorrow, what about you?"
"Same. So, your place?" he suggested.
"My parents will be home," she warned him.
"That's fine, I don't mind. I'm sure we'll get along," he assured her. Allison looked surprised but pleased at hearing that. "So, it's a deal?"
"Deal," she confirmed.
The first part of the plan was completed. Now, the second part will be much harder. He had some Argents to charm.
***
The next day when he stood in front of Allison's house, he couldn't help but feel slightly nervous. A part of it was due to the fact that he wasn't ready to reveal his lycanthropy to them just yet, and while he was completely in control, he couldn't be one hundred percent sure that they didn't have their own methods to recognize a werewolf. But the other reason why he was so nervous was that he missed Chris, his mentor, and he actually dreaded the thought that he would never again manage to have the same rapport with the man as he’d had previously.
Finally, he gathered his courage and knocked. When the door opened and he saw the familiar, but much younger face of Chris Argent than the one he remembered from his past, he felt as if he was punched in the stomach with a blunt, hard object.
"You must be Scott," the man's mild, steady voice was so familiar it almost hurt Scott to restrain himself from doing something stupid like actually attempting to hug the man.
"Hello, Mr Argent," he managed to say breathlessly.
"Now, before I allow you to come inside, I want us to be clear on one thing," the man said sternly. Scott blanched. Did he suspect him already?... "I expect the doors to Allison's room to be opened at all times, is that clear? I'm taking the well-being of my daughter very seriously and her making out with you is not something that I can allow. Do we understand each other?" the man asked deceptively calmly, his smooth voice hiding the steel beneath.
"Perfectly," Scott confirmed, feeling faint from sheer relief. So, no werewolf suspicions, just a regular parental stuff. He could handle that.
The man looked at him piercingly, before he gestured him inside. Scott took a step in, glad for the invitation, as the mountain ash tree line at the door wasn’t triggered by his presence thanks to it.
He was inside. So far, so good.
"Scott, you're here!" called Allison, appearing at the top of the stairs.
"Hi, Allison," he greeted her with an honest smile and allowed himself to be ushered to her room. "I just had a pleasant talk with your dad about the open doors policy."
"Really? But I already told him that you're not interested, well, in me," she said, embarrassed.
"We're teenagers, remember? There's no universe in existence in which parents would trust their teenage children when hormones are involved," he waggled his eyebrows suggestively at her and the girl giggled at his antics.
"That's so true! I have this feeling that they would prefer if I remained their little girl forever, but that's just not impossible."
"I'd hate to break it to you, but to your father you'll always be his little girl, even once you're married and have children of your own," he said teasingly and he laughed when she huffed in irritation. "So, how do you feel about starting with chemistry?"
***
After an hour of studying he asked the girl if she wanted something to drink.
"Oh my God, I'm a terrible hostess, I should be the one asking you that!" exclaimed Allison, horrified.
Scott just rolled his eyes. "Allison, you're a girl and I'm a man, being chivalrous is in my job description. Besides, I want your parents to see me around your house, since I hope it will become a normal occurrence. So, let me go downstairs and charm my way into their hearts, alright?"
"Fine. But be aware that they may be harder to charm than you think. They're not easily impressed," she warned.
"I think I'll manage. Just give me ten minutes and I'll have them wrapped around my little finger," he bragged jokingly, then went downstairs to look for Allison's parents.
"Scott, what are you doing here, alone?" asked Chris once the boy found both of them in the living room.
"Mr and Mrs Argent, I wanted to talk to you about something important which concerns Allison, but I didn't want to worry her, so I thought I will talk with you first," he started solemnly.
They looked at each other, worriedly.
"What is it?" asked Chris.
"I think Allison has a stalker," Scott bluntly, deciding not to beat around the bush. "There's this guy at the school who's always taking pictures of her from a distance. I can't be entirely sure since I haven't got a chance to confront him about it, but something feels just… off about him," Scott admitted, recalling the boy's mental issues.
Allison's parents blanched at hearing that.
"Is there a chance that you are wrong about this?" asked Victoria tensely.
"I could, but it didn’t feel right to me to just wait and let this progress even further without letting you know. I mean, you're Allison's parents, you would know best how to handle it."
"That's… surprisingly mature of you," said Chris. "Normally teenagers believe they know better than the adults."
"Not when Allison's safety is at stake," protested Scott. "I just wanted you to observe for yourself if it's not just my imagination, but if something's really happening. I would hate to accuse an innocent guy, but if my hunch is right, then something will need to be done before Allison gets hurt."
"Thank you for bringing this to our attention, Scott, we will take it from here," said Victoria, a steely glint appearing in her eyes.
Scott nodded agreeably. "Could you please show me the way to the kitchen? I left Allison in her room under the excuse that I will get us something to drink, and it would look suspicious if I went back to her empty-handed."
Chris got up from the sofa and put a hand on Scott's shoulder. "This way," he said and steered him to the kitchen.
The man started to fill two glasses with lemonade while observing Scott with those keen eyes of his. The teenager tried not to fidget too much under the scrutiny.
"You said that this Matt boy felt… off, to you. Would you mind describing the feeling in more detail?" the man asked quietly.
Scott looked at him incomprehensibly for a moment. Wait, did he think that Matt was a werewolf? There was no chance of that happening, ever, at least if Scott had any say in this. Beacon Hills did not need another deranged werewolf, thank you very much.
"He seemed… disturbed to me. Unhinged, even, like he had some serious mental health issues. He masks himself very well, though, so it's not easily spotted," he admitted. "I know it's nothing tangible, just a general impression. I'm sorry I can't be of more help."
"You helped enough by telling us of the problem. But don't tell anyone else about it, even Allison. Let me and Victoria handle this," the man stressed, pushing the full glasses in his direction.
"Yes, Mr Argent," he agreed obediently, then took the drinks and went back to Allison's room.
She raised her eyebrows questioningly. "Was the mission successful? Were you able to impress my parents?"
"I think I did pretty well, yeah," he said. "But let me tell you, that was one hell of an experience. Charming an enraged dragon would have been easier."
The girl laughed openly at that. "What else did you expect? They're my parents."
Chapter Text
Chris Argent thought of himself as a mild-mannered man, all things considered. He didn’t believe in blunt force and he thought violence should always be used as a last resort. What differentiates humans from animals, after all, was that humans could be reasoned with, and should be in charge of their actions, rather than let their urges be in charge of them.
Hearing that his only daughter might have a stalker made his blood boil, but he wasn’t going to act rashly simply because one teenager accused another. However, seeing that Daehler boy actually following Allison and taking her pictures without her knowledge or consent made him consider murder in ways that made him shudder from how intense the temptation was... He wanted to tear that boy apart, bit by bit, for simply looking at his daughter the wrong way.
These were dangerous, delightful thoughts to be toying with, especially for a hunter who dealt with dealing weapons on a daily basis and who was no stranger to taking lives. He knew that he needed to talk to Victoria about how to approach the stalker issue, but he spotted Scott talking with his friends, and decided that it was as good time as any to approach the boy and thank him for letting them know what was happening.
He came closer to the group of boys and called: “Hi Scott, may I borrow you for a moment?”
For a second, the boy looked surprised to see him, but then he smiled easily and said: “Sure, Mr Argent! Guys, I’ll be back in a moment.”
When the boy approached him, Chris steered him to his car in order to create some distance between them and the rest of the teenagers. When he was sure that no one would be able to overhear them, Chris said: “I just wanted you to know that your hunch was right and that I spotted the same boy as you did, taking pictures of Allison without her knowing.”
The boy grimaced at his words. “I’m sorry to hear that, I would really be happy to be in the wrong on this, you know.”
“As would I,” admitted Chris, then continued: “I just wanted to thank you for being vigilant and for not ignoring the issue, but letting us know about it.”
The boy appeared slightly uncomfortable at his gratitude. “I consider Allison my friend, Mr Argent, and I would really hate it if someone happened to her,” he said gravely. “I also promise that I’m not looking to be anything more than a friend to her, either. I know how protective you are of Allison, so I wanted to come clean about it. We’re just friends and that’s all we’ll ever be,” the boy assured him.
Chris was taken aback at hearing those words spoken so solemnly, almost as if the teen was making a vow. He looked the boy straight in the eyes, gauging his honesty, but Scott never wavered, and returned his gaze without flinching, which was remarkable for someone his age. Chris knew that his look often made adult men nervous, and to see a mere teenager being so resistant to it… Well, it was impressive, to say the least.
“I believe you,” he said finally, then asked, acting on an impulse: “I wonder, if you were me, how would you approach the stalker issue?”
Scott actually took a long moment to think about the matter, before he answered: “I think Allison’s safety is a priority here, not having Matt punished. So the question is: what would be the best way to assure her well-being? So, my suggestion would be to request that Matt's parents move him to another school. This, or going through official channels and petition for restraining order. Either way, this guy needs some serious counselling, so I would add obligatory sessions with a psychiatrist for good measure.”
If Chris wasn’t already impressed with the teen, hearing this would certainly do that. “This sounds very reasonable and well-thought out. Are you planning a career in counseling, yourself?" he asked the boy, genuinely interested.
“Me? No, not at all!” Scott laughed, surprised. “I’ll have you know, Mr Argent, that I intend to become the best veterinarian on this side of the coast,” he confessed, smiling widely.
“An admirable plan, indeed,” he said, then added: “Would you mind if we exchanged phone numbers? Until this issue with Daehler's boy is resolved, I would feel safer if you kept an eye on Allison and notified me if anything out of ordinary happened in the meantime.”
The boy looked surprised, but in a good way, and they promptly noted their respective numbers on their cell phones.
“I think I monopolized your time for long enough, you better go back to your friends before they start worrying,” Chris offered lightly.
“You’re right, they’re already looking as if they were preparing a rescue party. Bye, Mr Argent!” the boy called, then jogged back to his friends.
Chris felt his lips curling in a small, amused smile.
Usually, he found teenage boys irritating, uncouth and overall not a good company to spend time with. Scott McCall, though, might be one of the very few teenagers he might actually get along with. He was glad that Allison had such a good taste in friends, and maybe having him over dinner sometimes won’t be such a chore.
Feeling satisfied with himself, his mission accomplished, he drove back home to talk to Victoria. They had some unpleasant business to plan, after all.
***
When Scott went back to his friends, they accosted him at once.
“Dude, what was that? What Allison’s dad wanted from you?” Stiles asked worriedly, Isaac hovering beside him.
“I did him a small favor and he just wanted to thank me, I guess,” said Scott vaguely. “But it’s still work in progress so we exchanged numbers, you know, just in case we needed to contact each other.”
“That explanation was… not helpful at all,” grumbled Stiles, irritated.
Isaac bit his lips, then asked hesitantly: “Would you rather talk to Stiles alone? If that’s the case, just tell me, and I’ll leave.”
Scott sighed wearily, keeping track of what he could disclose to who was starting to get bothersome. “Look, Isaac, Stiles and I have some serious stuff going on that we haven’t told you about yet, that’s true. But my business with Mr Argent has nothing to do with that. It’s about Allison, and for now I’m not allowed to discuss this with anyone else, even with Stiles, alright?”
Isaac nodded, relieved. “And the other stuff?” he asked uncertainly. “Is it something that you could share with me, maybe?”
Scott shared a look with Stiles, who just shrugged. “It’s your secret, your decision, mate.”
“I will tell you, just not now, okay?” Scott promised, looking Isaac in the eye to convey his sincerity. “It’s big, and I need to wrap my head around on how to tell you.”
“I can handle it,” said Isaac. “You can trust me with your secrets, no matter how big or awful they are.”
“Soon,” assured Scott and squeezed the other teen’s shoulder to let him know that he was serious about it. “I promise.”
He knew that during his first timeline, Isaac had grasped the basics of being a werewolf quicker than Erica and Boyd, who had struggled to the very end with their nature and transformations. This was one of the reasons why Scott was hesitant to approach those two this time around, he knew that becoming a werewolf hadn’t been easy for them. The other reason was that, when things had gotten tough, Boyd and Erica had decided to leave Derek, and while Scott understood and even accepted their decision, abandoning one's Alpha just didn’t sit well with him.
In his own Betas, Scott sought trust and loyalty, and offered that, and much more, in return. That was why he wanted to have Isaac in his pack. The boy was loyal, compassionate and trustworthy, and Scott already cared for him deeply. And while he didn’t want to give Isaac the bite too soon, he certainly could disclose some truths to the teen to see how he would react.
So, decision made, he caught Isaac after classes and asked him if he had some free time.
“Sure, why?” asked Isaac.
“Earlier, you said that you wanted to know my secrets, right? Well, I think I’m ready to tell you,” said Scott. “But we'll need to find a place where no one can see or hear us, so I thought about a trip to the woods. We don’t need to go far, just enough so that we’re away from other people. Are you up for it?”
Isaac nodded enthusiastically.
As they walked, Scott asked Isaac about his situation at home.
“Nothing happened recently, if that’s what you mean,” said Isaac. “But, these periods of calm before the storm are so nerve-wracking! I never know how long the peace will last. I go home dreading my father’s mood and wondering if I should prepare for another row, or… something worse.”
“I get it, you’re always on your guard, you haven’t got any place to feel safe and relax,” Scott nodded with understanding.
Isaac just nodded dejectedly.
After a moment of silence, Isaac said quietly: “I’m sorry that I pressured you into telling me your secret, whatever it is. Now I feel awful for pestering you earlier about it.”
The boy looked flustered and guilty, and Scott was having none of it.
“Don’t be,” he protested. “I don’t want to enter into a friendship with you without you knowing the most important things about me. It wouldn’t be fair to you, and it could sour our relations in the long run. But I want you to know that it changes nothing. I’m still… me, and I want to be your friend, if you’ll let me.”
That said, Scott looked around him for a moment, then decided that they had walked far away for it to be safe to talk freely.
“So, this is it,” he said, feeling stressed all of a sudden. “What I’ll show you today, you can’t tell anyone who doesn’t already know, and those people are: Stiles, my boss, and my friend Derek. Even my mom doesn’t know, yet, though I plan on telling her soon.”
Isaac swallowed heavily. “So, it’s a big secret, right?” he asked with apprehension.
“It’s huge,” admitted Scott, then opened his hands in a way that he hoped was as non-threatening as possible, then allowed his claws to come forth.
Isaac’s eyes widened in a second and he jumped back in panic, losing his footing in the process and falling on his back. Even then, he scrambled back, breathing rapidly. The werewolf quickly retracted his claws, then slowly came closer to the boy with his now human hands held up.
“Please calm down, it's okay, just breathe," he tried to calm Isaac down. Slowly, the boy’s panic subsided, but he was still looking at Scott with fear.
“Are you going to hurt me?" Isaac asked in a small voice, and Scott felt his heart breaking at hearing that. “Is that why you wanted us to go into the woods, so that no one will hear me?”
“No, never!” he said vehemently. “I would never hurt you, not intentionally, at least. I may be a werewolf, but I'm still me."
“Werewolf?... The claws, they’re not all? There’s more?” the boy asked breathlessly.
“More werewolf body parts? Yes, there’s more,” he confirmed.
The teen swallowed with difficulty. “Show me, please?”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to terrify you even more than you already are.”
“Please, I need to see, I need to know if it’s real,” the boy said shakily.
Not being able to refuse him, and cursing himself for having such a soft spot for Isaac already, Scott allowed himself to do a full body change, red eyes, pointed ears and long canine teeth, all of it.
He looked at the boy before him, whose eyes once again grew huge. Terrified, Isaac curled into a ball, as if trying to protect himself from a strike.
Once his features turned back to normal, Scott realized that his cheeks were wet from tears. He started to walk away, feeling emotionally wrecked and not being able to look at Isaac being terrified of him for even a moment longer.
***
Isaac heard the footsteps and stiffened, stupefied with fear, but as they grew quieter with each step, he realized that the werewolf was leaving.
Scott was leaving.
He shook himself out from his stupor and looked at the other teen’s retreating form, and he thought to himself that if this had been a test of their friendship, he had failed at it.
Scott had warned him, had cautioned him, tried to prepare him for the truth. And Isaac had been so sure of himself, that he could take everything, that he could handle whatever secret Scott was hiding, that he hadn’t even considered what would happen if he was not ready for the truth, after all.
He always froze at the mere possibility of getting hurt. His father's methods of character building had left him vulnerable to pain, and he hated himself for being so weak. But now it seemed that his cowardice had cost him the one person who had been there for him, who had cared for him and accepted him.
Shakily, he got up to his feet and followed Scott. When he managed to catch up with the werewolf, he called weakly: "Scott, wait, please."
The teen turned and looked at him, his face closed off and almost unreadable, which made Isaac wince guiltily. It was his fault. He had done this.
At seeing the honest regret on Isaac’s face, the coldness on Scott's face thawed a little, but he still shook his head. "I'm sorry, Isaac. The wolf is an integral part of me, this is who I am and it will never change. Can you accept it?"
Isaac bit his lower lip. "Just, give me another chance, please?" he asked.
The teen stared at him for a long, tense moment, then once again his eyes started glowing red. Isaac focused hard on looking past the long claws and teeth, and instead looked at Scott, who had always been the very embodiment of gentle care and protection.
Slowly, ever so slowly, Isaac came closer, until he could touch the werewolf. Feeling strangely nervous and self-conscious, he took Scott's hand into his, and trailed his fingertips down the calloused palm, feeling the clawed fingers tremble slightly.
"I'm sorry if my fear hurt you," Isaac whispered, mournfully. "And I may not be brave, but I want you to know that I'm trying. Can you be patient with me?"
After a moment, all the animalistic features disappeared and Scott was looking at him with an impossibly gentle expression. "Always, for as long as you need," he said and Isaac's throat constricted painfully.
"You won't leave me?"
"Only if you'll ask me to," Scott promised.
Isaac released the breath he wasn't aware he had been holding in the first place. Feeling bold, he circled the other boy with his arms, drawing him into an embrace that they both needed. He marveled at that, because it was the first time he was the one who initiated their physical contact, not the other way around.
Before today, he might have been reluctant to give in to the urge to be close to Scott. He would have doubted himself and remembered all his father's comments about pansies and nancy boys. But after all that had happened, all of this suddenly ceased to matter. He didn't have to wonder if his longing for physical closeness was appropriate for a friendship, or if it was too intimate to be considered normal.
Scott was a werewolf. Normal was never again going to be part of the equation. They needed to find their own way of being near each other, even if it didn’t fit what was considered socially acceptable. But they could do it. They had each other, and that’s all that mattered.
Chapter 11
Notes:
Warning: some domestic violence, not graphic, but it's there, so I wanted to give a fair warning if it's a trigger for any of you.
Chapter Text
Scott went back home with a goofy smile on his face, he was so ecstatic that Isaac had accepted him being a werewolf. His mother kept shooting him suspicious glances over dinner and finally asked him if he saw Derek, again.
The teen frowned, worriedly, and he realized that he hadn't heard from his Beta for several days now. He knew that the man was probably busy with the apartment hunting, but the complete and utter lack of contact was concerning.
"No, mom, I haven't, I just spent some time with my other friends, that's all. But thank you for reminding me, I need to check on Derek and see how he's doing."
He grabbed his phone and quickly typed a message to his Beta: Hi, how's the search for an apartment going? Is everything alright?
He tried not to fidget worriedly too much and look at his phone every other minute or so, but it wasn't easy. He couldn't believe that he hadn't had the forethought to ask Derek to give him regular 'I'm OK' messages every now and then. There were hunters roaming around the city, and while he trusted Chris Argent's integrity, he was the only decent hunter he knew and Scott trusted the rest of them as far as he could throw them. They were too trigger-happy and unreliable with their policy of 'shoot first, ask questions later'.
Finally, after an agonizing ten minutes of wondering if he should already start preparing a rescue mission, Scott's phone rang. He excused himself from the table and picked up the phone hurriedly.
"Hi Derek!" he greeted breathlessly while taking two stairs at a time to get to his room more quicker.
"Hi Scott, I'm sorry for not contacting you earlier, I've been busy lately," the older werewolf's calm voice was like a balm on Scott's heart.
"That's fine, I'm just happy that you're doing alright," he assured the man. "How's the search for a flat going?"
"I bought a loft already, but it's in a dreadful state. I also might need some help with decorating. Would you mind lending me a hand?"
"I'd love to!" Scott assured him enthusiastically. Spending time with his Beta wasn't something that he could refuse, ever.
"I'm glad. I'll pick you up tomorrow after school, is that alright?"
"Sounds great, I can't wait," agreed Scott.
"See you tomorrow, then. Good night."
"Good night, Derek."
Feeling excited, almost giddy at the thought of meeting with the older werewolf, Scott went downstairs to help his mom cleaning after dinner. Then, still feeling an excess of energy, he started to clean up his room, just to make the time pass quicker. His mom was observing him with a bemused expression on her face, but he just laughed her off.
Slowly, step by tiny step, he was actually on the way to rebuild his pack. Derek had become his Beta which Scott hadn't even dreamed of before, he had a tentative truce with Deaton, he had been working on building a rapport with Chris and Allison, and Isaac had been coming around too.
Life was good.
***
The next day at school he was bubbling with excitement so much that everyone, teachers included, had started to take notice. He couldn't concentrate properly, and it had shown.
During the lunch break, his friends gathered around him to check up on him and ask what was going on. Even Allison came to join them, not able to curb her curiosity.
"Guys, it's nothing, I'm just meeting with Derek today," he tried to explain, but somehow his words fell flat, judging by the expressions on his friends' faces.
"And that's a good thing?" asked Stiles incredulously. "This guy still scares the hell out of me!"
"Who's Derek?" asked Allison curiously.
"He's my friend, and he just bought a loft in the town. I'm going to help him renovate it after classes," Scott said happily, digging into his lunch.
Stiles just shrugged. "Whatever makes you happy, mate."
Scott promptly hugged him which caused his friend to splutter.
"Dude, just keep your weird touchy urges to yourself," Stiles protested. "You're my best friend but men need to keep their distance, y'know?"
Allison looked at Scott with a strange gleam in her eyes, but the boy was too excited to worry about it. Whatever the girl was thinking about, it couldn't be all that bad, surely?
***
The moment he saw Derek waiting for him outside his car, Scott felt his heart jump at the sight of him. The older werewolf spotted their group and started to walk in their direction, and Scott just couldn't help himself. He left Stiles and Isaac behind and just flung himself at the man, hugging him tightly and sighing happily. Derek shuddered, and returned his embrace with a sigh of his own, his arms tightening around Scott.
"I've missed you," whispered the teen.
The older werewolf just nuzzled his neck in response, and the bond between them pulsed with warmth and happiness.
Their moment was interrupted by Stiles clearing his voice. "Guys, I think you're making a scene."
Scott looked around and realized that their reunion attracted some curious stares. He tried to release Derek from his embrace, but in response the older werewolf circled his waist with his arm, as if making a statement.
Stiles whistled at that. "Possessive much, aren't you? What is this, some weird ritual territory marking?"
"If I hear one more word from you, I'll make ripping out your tongue my own private ritual," the werewolf growled.
"Guys, stop it," protested Scott, wriggling free of the man's grip. "Derek, you haven't met Isaac yet. Isaac, this is Derek, he's the same as me," he said suggestively and the boy's eyes widened.
"Um, hi," he said timidly.
The older werewolf looked at the blond boy, as if judging his worth, then finally nodded in lieu of a greeting.
"Right. We should probably be going," said Scott awkwardly. "See you tomorrow, guys!"
He just started to realize that getting all of them to like each other was going to be one hell of a challenge.
***
Isaac looked at the retreating pair and couldn't help but feel utterly miserable. He knew that he liked Scott, a lot, but since he hadn’t got any sexual or romantic experience to compare it to, he couldn’t be entirely sure if his feelings were friendly and platonic in nature, or if he was starting to fall for the other teen.
But now, seeing first-handedly how intimate Scott and Derek had acted with one another, Isaac felt a painful stab in his chest and he rubbed it instinctively, trying to sooth the pain, despite knowing perfectly well that he was hurting on the inside.
He was jealous, and in love, unrequited one at that.
“It’s hard, isn’t it?” asked Stiles suddenly, his face unusually grave.
Isaac looked at him, surprised. He didn’t know the other boy that well, Stiles was more of a Scott’s friend and Isaac just hung out with him by association, but most of the time Stiles seemed content to just joke and fool around. This sudden seriousness was quite unlike him.
“What do you mean?” asked Isaac.
“Watching Scott light up like a christmas tree at the sight of another, to see how his whole focus shifts to another person while you’re being left on the sidelines. It’s hard, not feeling jealous,” said Stiles, his eyes not leaving Scott’s silhouette, sitting on the front passenger seat while he and Derek drove away.
Isaac said nothing, and Stiles finally looked at him.
“I’ve been Scott’s friend for years, but in a span of a few weeks, he gets bitten, finds new friends and on top of that, he starts to form a wolfpack. And I’m still plain old Stiles, no super powers, nothing,” the nerdy boy admits with a hint of self-depreciation.
“Stiles, you’re his best friend. He’s not going to abandon you,” said Isaac consolingly.
“Oh, I know that. It’s not Scott’s style, you know, to abandon anyone. His friendship is for life,” Stiles smiled wistfully. “But what I meant is that his focus shifts, and I’m not at the centre of it, not anymore. He’s still my friend, but I am one of the many people he now cares for. And I have to accept this, because it’s not going to change.”
Isaac swallowed heavily. “Why are you telling me this?”
The other boy patted him on the arm with compassion. “Because I see how you look at Scott when he’s not watching, and how you looked pained at the sight of him and Derek, together. A word of friendly advice: don’t get jealous, or you’ll get hurt a lot. I speak from experience, even though I’m only his friend, and not in love with him.”
Stiles patted his shoulders one last time and left.
***
When Isaac got back home, his father was already vibrating from pent-up aggression and started to beat him for some silly reason that Isaac knew had nothing to do with the real cause of his anger.
The truth was always the same: Isaac was weak, and a disappointment, and his father would rather have Camden alive and Isaac dead and buried, rather than the other way around.
Isaac just couldn’t compete with a dead brother, who in their father’s eyes was nothing short of a war hero, even though Isaac remembered that when Camden was still alive, he had been arguing with their father on a regular basis. But time and grief had turned Camden into a saint in their father’s eyes, and Isaac was only a poor substitute which was simply not good enough, and he had to suffer because of this.
During the past beatings, Isaac had always cried and pleaded with his father to stop. But today, today in his mind’s eyes he saw Scott with Derek, smiling and touching, so close and intimate, that he welcomed the physical pain as a reprieve from the turmoil he felt on the inside.
His father, confused and furious at him taking the beating in silence, kept hitting harder and harder, just to extract a cry or a scream out of him. When Isaac finally gave in and started to whimper, he was already bruised and bleeding, his face, arms and torso a battered mess. His father just left him without a word, leaving him beaten and humiliated on the floor, crying helplessly.
Chapter Text
When the next day Scott realized that Isaac had missed his classes, he was instantly worried. He texted the boy but received a standard response of "just caught a minor case of flu, I'll be fine". His instincts were screaming at him that something wasn't adding up. Just a day before the boy had been perfectly fine, no sign of illness whatsoever.
Come to think of it, Scott wouldn't be surprised if Isaac's dad actually monitored his phone just to make sure that the boy didn't confess to anyone that he was hurt. Which meant that there was a very real possibility of Isaac being hurt, and alone with the very man who abused him.
This was unacceptable.
So, the question was: what could Scott actually do about this? Unfortunately, no matter how tempting the idea was, he couldn’t just barge into the Laheys’ house and beat the shit out of Isaac’s father for daring to lay a hand on his son. That would be utterly satisfying, but not good enough in the long run.
No, he needed to come up with a full-proof, permanent solution which would allow Isaac to be separated from his father for good. And since Isaac was a minor, and taking into account the fact that, as a parent, his dad still had legal rights to him, the solution that Scott needed to come up with must be based on the law, which he knew nothing about.
He needed some assistance on this, and fast, but the question was: whom he could trust with Isaac’s well-being? Health-wise, Scott’s mom, definitely. If Isaac was hurt, Melissa could take care of his wounds. But what about the legal issues?
In the previous timeline, Isaac had gotten close to Chris Argent, but only after a series of events that hadn’t taken place in this timeline yet, if they ever would. On the other hand, Chris had always been very parental, and Scott couldn’t imagine a universe in which the man would condone child abuse.
He sighed, wearily. If Chris didn’t agree, he could always ask Stiles’ dad for help. It wasn’t ideal, since Sheriff Stilinski would be forced to act in his official capacity and the last thing Scott wanted was to have the police involved without consulting this with Isaac first. If things went that route, Isaac might need to testify against his father, and that could be almost as traumatic as the abuse itself. So no, involving the Sheriff was definitely a plan B.
Ugh, how he hated being a teenager still! If only he was an adult already, he could offer to take care of Isaac himself. But that wasn’t happening, so asking an adult for an assistance was the only way to go with this.
He picked up his phone and selected Chris’ number.
“Hi Scott, I didn’t expect your call, is something the matter?”
“Hi Mr Argent, I know that this may sound weird but I don’t know who else to ask… Do you know, by any chance, how to legally approach a case of child abuse and domestic violence?” Scott asked hurriedly.
The silence that followed was long and filled with tension.
“Scott, are you asking for yourself or someone else?”
The teen released the breath he didn’t know he'd been holding. God bless Chris Argent for being a parent and actually caring.
“It’s for a friend, I know that his father abuses him and I’m worried about him since he didn’t come to school today,” answered Scott.
“Do you know for sure that he’s being abused, or do you merely suspect it? This is important, so think carefully.”
“I know for sure. And there’s a proof of it. His father often closes him in an unplugged fridge in the basement which led to Isaac developing a severe case of claustrophobia,” said Scott, hating to reveal the details of Isaac’s home life, but he needed Chris to believe him.
“Oh my God,” breathed the man, horrified. “Scott, where are you? This isn’t a case to be discussed over the phone.”
“I’m going home. I actually wanted to ask my mother for help since she’s a nurse so if Isaac’s hurt, she’ll know what to do.”
“A wise decision. Listen, talk to your mother and if she agrees to meet, text me your address and I’ll be there in half an hour.”
“Thank you,” Scott said sincerely. “And I’m sorry, Mr Argent, I know that you have probably better things to do than rescuing teenagers that you don’t even know.”
“This may surprise you, but no, I don’t have more important things to do at the moment. Now, talk to your mother. I’ll be waiting for your message if you need me.”
“I will. Thank you."
Once they hung up, Scott closed his eyes for a moment. This was Chris Argent that he loved and trusted, always willing to go above and beyond to help people. He dreaded the moment when he would inevitably lose the man's trust when his werewolf status finally comes to light, but it wasn't the good time to be distracted from what needed to be done.
He got on his bike and rode home in a hurry. He had to convince his mother that organizing a rescue party was a good idea, and he didn’t look forward to that particular conversation.
***
“No, absolutely not! This is completely out of question,” his mom protested once he explained the situation to her. “Call the police, if you will, but we’re not getting involved.”
“Mom, I can’t just abandon Isaac!”
“I said no, and I don’t want to hear another word from you,” said Melissa.
“What if I was hurt, beaten, or locked in a basement by an abusive father? Would you say the same, let someone else take care of this, mom?” he asked bitterly.
“That’s a low blow and you know it,” she said quietly.
“It’s only a low blow because it strikes home, doesn’t it?” he pushed, hating himself for doing this to his mother. “I already called Allison’s dad and he’s willing to help, because he’s a parent and he actually cares enough to stop child abuse. Why aren’t you?”
The strike that followed his words shocked him to the core. His mother had never, ever hit him, and now he had provoked her into backhanding him. He took a hold of his cheek, looking at her with wide eyes.
But if he was shocked, his mother was horrified.
“Scott, I’m so sorry…” she said, devastated. “I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s fine, mom. It’s nothing,” he said, and meant it. “I just want you to understand how important Isaac is to me. If he gets hurt when I could’ve done something to prevent it, I will be devastated. So, I need your help, not because he’s some random kid, but because he matters to me.”
His mom looked at him gravely. "And you said that Mr Argent offered to help?” she asked finally.
“Yes, mom,” confirmed Scott, allowing himself to feel a spark of hope.
“Very well, ask him to come here,” Melissa relented, albeit reluctantly. “But you will let us handle it, is that understood?”
Scott nodded and just hugged her tightly, not ashamed of the tears gathering in his eyes. He loved his mom, so very, very much.
***
The discussion that took place next was nothing short of a war council. The three of them sat down at the table, and the teen cleared his throat to break the sudden silence.
“I’m worried that Isaac might be hurt, since he admitted to me recently that he was abused by his dad, both physically and emotionally," he admitted. "Mr Lahey often hits him and confines him in small spaces, he also tells Isaac that he’s worthless, and weak."
“But, why? Why would he do that, to his own child no less?” Melissa asked, horrified.
Scott rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Isaac had a brother, once. He died in combat, and Mr Lahey never really got over that. He started to take out his hurt and grief on Isaac, and it just… progressed from there, I guess,” he explained, awkwardly.
His mom just shook her head. “But grief is not an excuse to abuse the remaining child! He should’ve found other ways to cope with his loss.”
“I know that, and I’m not making excuses for him. I just wanted you to understand that despite everything, Isaac might still love his father, or at least feel sorry for him. I would happily let Mr Lahey rot in prison for what he’s done, but Isaac might not feel the same. And Isaac is my first priority in this,” Scott said sternly.
Once he finished speaking he realized that his mom was looking at him as if she was seeing him for the first time.
“What? What did I just say?” he asked, confused.
Chris just smiled knowingly and answered for her, instead: “I think your mom just realized how remarkably mature you are, and wonders when did that happen.”
Melissa just nodded, wordlessly.
Scott blushed at the attention. “Guys, it’s not about me, it’s about Isaac,” he reminded them. “That's why I called you, Mr Argent. Do you know if there’s any way for a parent to lose custody over his child, that would not involve bringing criminal charges for child abuse?”
Chris sighed heavily. “I called my lawyer before coming here. There are ways to transfer parental rights, both voluntarily or involuntarily, but it needs to go through court. But please remember that Isaac is a minor, so he would need to be adopted by someone. Do you know anyone willing to take him in?”
Scott just looked at his mom with a pleading look on his face.
“You’re serious? Scott, I don’t even know this boy!” she protested.
“That’s true, but you know me. I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t completely serious about it,” he assured her. “I care for Isaac very much and I would do everything in my power to keep him safe. This isn’t just a spur of the moment kind of decision, this is me telling you that if only I was an adult, I would offer to take care of him myself. But I’m not, so I need your help. Just, think about this, okay?”
His mom just nodded, speechless.
“So, now we need to plan what to do once we’re there,” said Scott, that wouldn’t end up in a bloodshed, he didn’t add.
He had a feeling that it was going to be a long evening.
Chapter Text
They drove to the Laheys' house in tense silence. Scott was so nervous that his body was almost rigid from the tension. His mom kept shooting him worried looks, but thankfully didn't try to calm him down; he knew it would be useless. He was going to relax only once Isaac was in their house, safe and protected. Also, it was a good thing that Melissa had her first aid kit ready in case Isaac required medical attention, as he had a feeling it would be needed.
As they had planned earlier, his mother stayed in the car, while Chris and Scott walked up to the house. Chris knocked on the door loudly.
They heard muffled cursing, then the door opened, revealing Isaac's father who grimaced at their sight.
"What's your business here?" the man grumbled.
"Good evening, Mr Lahey," greeted Chris calmly. "Scott here is Isaac's friend, he was very anxious to check up on your son, since we heard that he's sick."
"My son is not allowed to have visitors. And frankly speaking, I don't know you, so get the hell out of my property."
The man attempted to close the door, but Chris blocked it with his body and pushed the door hard, causing the man to stumble back.
"What do you think you're doing?! I'll have you arrested for an assault!" the man shouted.
"I'm just a citizen concerned for a child's well-being, but you, Mr Lahey, will soon find yourself in jail for domestic violence, if you don't start cooperating with us," said Chris steely.
"That's preposterous!" the man spluttered.
Scott closed the door behind him. His concerns doubled when he smelt blood in the air, so he ran to the stairs, the scent of blood getting stronger with each step. Mr Lahey lunged in Scott's direction, but Chris tripped him without any effort, which resulted in the man losing his footing and bumping hard into the wooden cupboard.
"Oi, kid, where do you think you're going?!" the man bellowed.
Scott followed his senses and went upstairs, seeing one of the doors closed from the outside, a key hanging in the keyhole. He felt his throat constricting, his fear doubling by the second.
He knocked on the door and asked with a trembling voice: "Isaac, are you there?" he called.
He heard a faint groan and then- "Scott?"
Scott turned the key and opened the door with trembling hands. What he saw inside made his body freeze and his blood boil, both at the same time.
Isaac was lying down on the bed, the sheets bloodied and in disarray. His face and neck was covered in bruises, some of them still oozing blood, he had a black eye and his lips were cut and swollen. His skin had an unhealthy sheen which worried Scott, but the worse… the worse were Isaac's eyes, glazed over from the pain, with tears gathering in the corners.
Scott entered the room and sat beside him, saying quietly: "Don't try to speak, Mr Argent is with me, we'll take you away from here."
The boy trembled and nodded.
After a moment, Chris came in and stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of Isaac's state. He controlled himself quickly, and said: "Let's get him out of here."
They helped Isaac get up, and the teen moaned loudly as his wounds were aggravated in the process.
"My father...?" he asked.
"In the basement, immobilised, so don't worry, he's not going to hurt you. Once you're safe, I will come back and release him," Mr Argent assured the teen.
They moved Isaac to the car, Melissa at the back with the hurt boy and Scott on the front passenger seat. When Chris started to drive, Isaac cried out quietly in pain, his eyes unfocused.
Suddenly, Scott couldn't take it anymore, and he turned to Chris. "Mr Argent, stop, please. Mom, I need you to change seats with me."
"What? Why?" his mother asked, confused by the request.
"Please, mom, I'll explain everything later, just trust me. I can ease his pain, but I need to be close to him."
"What are you-?"
Scott didn't let her finish, as he stepped out of the car already. His mother pressed her lips into a thin line, but moved to the front seat without further arguing.
"Mr Argent, you're free to hate me now, but please, just take us home," pleaded Scott, then took Isaac's palm in his. He closed his eyes, then allowed the pain to flow through him freely and without reservations, as black lines twirled across his hands and arms.
***
Chris Argent was hardly ever surprised, not anymore. In his line of work, where he had contact with all kinds of supernatural creatures on a regular basis, he was used to anything and everything that life threw at him.
But realizing that Scott, this kind, compassionate, selfless boy was a werewolf… It astounded him. He would have never guessed that it was the case if he hadn't seen the evidence presented so blatantly before his eyes. The werewolves he had previously encountered had always been vicious, animalistic, full of hatred. But he had seen none of it in Scott.
So what did that say about Chris' knowledge of the werewolves in general?
"What is Scott doing?" Melissa McCall asked in shock at the black lines appearing on her son's body.
Chris opened his mouth, trying to come up with some plausible lie, when Isaac said quietly: "I almost don't hurt anymore. Is he making the pain go away?"
"He's absorbing it by himself, yes," admitted Chris, driving fast to the McCalls' house. He so didn't want to have this conversation in a car of all places.
"But how is he doing this?" Scott's mom asked disbelievingly. "And how come the both of you are so calm about this? Am I the only sane person here?"
"Melissa, please, Scott is not in any imminent danger and he promised to tell you everything soon. But right now, you need to stay calm," Chris tried to reason with her.
"Mrs McCall, if it helps, I know Scott's secret, and it didn't change how I feel about him. It's huge, but it's alright, because he's still Scott," Isaac said slowly through his swollen lips.
Chris' heart clenched suddenly at hearing that. He's still Scott.
He swallowed, then forced himself to remain calm. He needed to regain control over his emotions, and fast, this was not the moment to have an identity crisis, of all things.
Once they arrived, they helped Isaac out of the car and brought him inside, slowly easing him on the sofa. Scott was at his side at once, holding his hand again, which made the teen sigh from sheer relief.
"Scott, you need to stop," Chris said gravely. "You can't be doing this for too long."
"I can handle pain. I won't let him suffer needlessly, not if I can help it," Scott replied, his eyes gleaming.
Chris let the matter go, then sat on the other side of the sofa and said gently to the bruised boy: "Isaac, you need to know that we have a plan to remove you from your father's custody. However, in order to do that, we need to document your wounds so that we can use it as evidence in court. Will you allow us to take pictures of you?"
"I don't know… he's still my father," Isaac said quietly.
"We won't present the photos in court without your permission. If you tell us later to destroy them, we will," Scott assured him. "But would you allow us to take pictures now, so that you can decide later on how you wish us to handle this?"
"Alright. I trust you," Isaac whispered.
They tried to remove the clothing from Isaac's torso, but as it was stuck to the boy's wounds with dried up blood, they realized that it would only cause him more pain.
"Let's get him into the tub and let him soak for a bit, it will make the cloth soften so that it will come off more easily," Melissa suggested.
"I'll go with him," offered Scott.
"Alright, but keep the water at his body temperature," his mom cautioned. "It can't be too warm since it would increase his bleeding, but neither can it be too cold, or he will go into a shock."
Scott nodded, then steered the other boy to the bathroom. He helped him take off his shoes, socks and jeans, leaving him only in boxers and a t-shirt.
Once Isaac was soaking in the lukewarm water, Scott asked him quietly: "Do you wish me to stay with you?"
Isaac shook his head. "No need. Go, talk to your mom. She must be going crazy."
"Okay, I'll be back soon."
On an impulse, Scott kissed the top of the boy's head, not minding the matted hair. He left the bathroom, quietly closing the door behind him. Isaac was safe. It was the only thing that mattered.
His mom and Mr Argent waited downstairs in a tense silence.
"He's in the tub, I'll go check on him in a moment," Scott said, then sat on the sofa, rubbing his eyes tiredly.
"I think that this is the moment when you explain to me what happened earlier in the car," said his mom with a deceptive calmness, hiding the raging storm underneath.
Chris was watching them both, arms crossed over his chest, his face unreadable, and Scott almost felt physical pain at the sight of it. But right now, his mother was a priority.
"Mom, I have some… supernatural abilities. I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier, I was afraid that you would be scared of me because of them. That you would… reject me," he admitted.
Hearing that, his mom sat next to him and hugged him tightly. "Scott, you're my son. How could you even think that I would reject you, just because you have some… weird powers? This changes nothing," she assured him.
"Taking Isaac's pain away from him? This is just a tip of an iceberg, mom," he warned. "And most of it is not pleasant."
"Then tell me more," she demanded.
"I'm a werewolf," said Scott, "I have a wolfpack, the people I love, and I'll probably be involved in a lot of things you wouldn't understand. We're from completely different worlds now, mom."
His mother looked at him, disbelievingly. Scott had a feeling that she didn't hear anything past the 'werewolf' part, judging by her shocked expression.
He sighed, then willed his fangs and claws to appear, and she jumped away from him. It pained him, but he had already gone through this, once. He could do this again.
"You have a remarkable control for someone so young," Mr Argent murmured idly and Scott was glad for the distraction, as it made his mom focus on the man instead of him.
"Chris, you knew about this?" Melissa asked.
"That werewolves exist? Yes. That Scott is one? No, I didn't," the man said, seemingly unperturbed.
"This… this is too much," said Melissa, appearing to be on the brink of a crisis. "I can't deal with all of this at once. Could we just check up on Isaac and deal with the supernatural later?"
"Probably a good idea," muttered Scott, then got up from the sofa. When he was walking past Chris, the man grabbed his arm, stopping him.
"When this is all done, I want a word with you," the hunter demanded.
"I'm not going anywhere," said Scott, grimly. "If you want to talk, we'll talk."
Chapter Text
Scott grabbed fresh towels and some underwear for Isaac to wear, then went to the bathroom. Isaac was lying in the tub with his eyes closed, but hearing Scott come in, his eyelashes fluttered and the boy straightened up groggily.
“Let’s get you out of these wet clothes,” said Scott. “I know it’s going to be awkward, since I don’t think you’re in a state to do this on your own, so just remember that I don’t mind helping you with this. Alright?”
The other teen bit his lips nervously but nodded.
Scott tried to be as careful as possible when removing the wet shirt from Isaac’s torso. Since he didn’t want for Isaac to move too much, he cut the shirt with scissors and removed it gently, piece by piece, trying not to touch the bruised body. He then patted the unhurt parts of Isaac’s body with a towel, drying him as best as he could, and helped him getting into fresh boxers.
By the time they were done, Isaac was swaying on his feet from pain and exhaustion. Scott led him to a guest bedroom, then called for Mr Argent to take the pictures of the boy’s injuries. Once done, Melissa came with a first aid kit and proceeded to disinfect the wounds and put an ointment on them, then wrapped Isaac’s arms and torso with a bandage. During the whole process, Scott kept his hand on the boy, absorbing his pain to the best of his abilities.
“Isaac, I’m now going to give you a shot which will make you fall asleep, alright? Your body needs time to heal and regenerate, and I don’t want you to move during the night,” Melissa explained as she made the injection. She didn’t mention that she was afraid he was going to have night terrors otherwise.
In a matter of minutes, the teen was fast asleep. Scott couldn’t help but run his fingers through Isaac’s hair, calming himself in the process.
“You really care about him, don’t you?” his mother asked quietly, and Scott just nodded, suddenly unable to put his feelings into words.
His mom rubbed his shoulder comfortingly, then said: “Come on, Chris said that he wanted to talk to you before he went to confront Isaac’s father. Is this about the supernatural stuff?” she asked hesitantly.
“Yes, mom.”
“Is he... a werewolf, like you?” inquired Melissa curiously, as they went downstairs.
“No, mom. He’s a werewolf hunter, which basically means that he captures the werewolves who are dangerous to the society, you know, by attacking people and stuff,” explained Scott awkwardly. “So he’s just probably going to give me the talk that I should be careful, responsible, and avoid any dangerous situations at all costs.”
“Indeed I am,” said Chris, who was already waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs. “I’ll borrow Scott for a while, if you don’t mind, Melissa. And don’t worry, I’ll return him in one piece,” he added with a smile which didn’t quite reach his eyes, then put his hand on Scott’s shoulders and led him outside.
“Get into the car,” the hunter ordered sternly and Scott complied. While he was a bit apprehensive, he knew that he had the advantage of knowing the man better than Chris knew him. It was easy to underestimate a teen wolf, after all.
They drove in silence, which not perturbed Scott in the least. He knew these kinds of power plays that the hunters preferred. Keep silent, make the captives sweat, make them talk just to fill the silence. Well, he was not going to play his part.
Finally, Chris asked: “Aren’t you going to ask when I’m taking you?”
“No,” said Scott camly, looking at the road ahead.
“Aren’t you curious?” afraid, the man’s tone implied.
Scott shrugged. “You have your agenda, whatever it is. I’m just giving you a benefit of doubt that it's nothing harmful.”
“And if it is?” the man asked.
“Then I’m going to face it when the time comes, not earlier. I’ve had enough stress for today, to be honest,” Scott answered, then closed his eyes, and allowed the car’s movements to relax him.
***
Chris looked at Scott in something akin to amazement. The young werewolf just started to doze off, here, in the car with a hunter who was taking him to a place unknown. Was he that trusting? Or merely naive? Whatever it was, Chris had already started to regret applying his usual intimidation tactics to this particular teen. Not only had it not worked, but also it made him question the very purpose of this impromptu trip.
Initially, he had wanted to take the young werewolf into the woods and scare him a little, maybe point a gun at him just to show him what was going to happen to him, if he so much as looked at innocent people the wrong way, much less hurt them.
But this… boy, just seemed incapable of having a normal reaction to hunters’ intimidation tactics so far. There was no trace of anger in him, no fear or nervousness, he didn’t even try claiming innocence and asking to be released.
Frustrated and entirely out of his depth, Chris decided to just forego the usual hunter methods while dealing with werewolves, and instead do what his guts were telling him to do... And that was feeding the boy and later making sure that he was back at home, safe and sound.
He changed direction to a drive-through restaurant, then ordered some take-away chicken, french fries and soft drinks. Not the perfect meal for a growing boy, but it would have to do. He then drove to a nearby lake that he knew of, which was remote enough that hardly anyone ever came there during the week. Once there, he parked and looked at the teen’s sleeping form, looking younger and more defenseless than ever before. He gently shook him to wake him up.
The boy opened his eyes, which were sleepy and unfocused. “Mr Argent?” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.
“Come on, Scott, I’ve got us some food and drinks, let’s go outside and eat.”
At the word ‘food’ Scott smiled widely, his sleepiness already forgotten. “Brilliant!” he exclaimed and got out of the car. Chris just shook his head at him, indulgently.
They sat on the bench and ate their dinner, but this time the silence between them was more relaxed and comfortable than before. Once or twice, Scott’s arm bumped into Chris’, and the man decided that he did not mind. This strange camaraderie, whatever it was, it felt good, like he was finally doing something good in his life. The sad fact was that he didn't remember when it was the last time he had felt that way.
“I know what you’re going to say, you know,” Scott said after a moment, looking at him with a calm acceptance. “That I need to be really careful, because I now have the capacity to seriously harm or kill people. That I need to be always in control, because otherwise the wolf will control me. And that if I ever cross the line, you will be forced to capture or kill me, because that’s your job. Am I close to the target?”
Chris swallowed with difficulty then took a gulp of his drink to hide his discomfort. “In a nutshell, yes,” he confirmed. “But I also wanted to know more about you. When you were bitten, who did it, which pack do you belong to, these kinds of details.”
“Then we’re going to cross into a dangerous territory, Mr Argent, because these are exactly the details that I’m not comfortable with disclosing, to you or anyone else,” said the teen seriously, putting away his drink and turning a bit so that they were face to face.
“Why?” asked Chris.
“That’s an easy one. Because I’m protective of my pack. Because I would do anything and everything to keep them from harm.”
“And if I were to insist?” pressed the hunter.
“Then I would need to tell you that there is a blood feud between my pack and your family, and that I’m not obliged to tell anything to my sworn enemy,” Scott said mildly, his open face belying the hard truths lurking underneath.
For the first time since he had known this boy, Chris felt that he was truly talking to a dangerous creature. There was a strength hidden under the soft exterior, and he felt a shudder going down his spine at the reminder.
As if reading his mind, the teen said: “Easy, Mr Argent, it’s not you that we have a vendetta with. But there are some members of your family who are guilty of killing innocent people, and I’d rather you did not get caught in the crossfire.”
Chris shook his head. These were lies. He didn’t believe it for a second… Or did he?
How many times had he insisted on sticking to the Code and then it was clear that his family had been simply indulging him, rather than truly believing in it? How many times had he felt that they were not telling him everything, that he had been barely scratching at the surface?
“Who?” he croaked finally, his voice almost unrecognizable.
“Mr Argent, this knowledge will only hurt you. I don’t-”
“Who?!” Chris pressed.
Scott sighed heavily, and relented. “Alright, then. There is no way to soften this blow, I guess. Your sister, Kate, had orchestrated the Hale House fire, which resulted in the death of almost the entire Hale family.”
Chris stood up suddenly and started to pace, restlessly. “Do you have any proof of that?” he asked, finally.
“Our chemistry teacher, who inadvertently told a blond woman how to make an arson look like an accident, remembered one particular detail of her. She had a silver pendant with a wolf, a heirloom of sorts,” the teen said, looking at him worriedly as Chris stopped dead in his tracks.
“It’s not enough,” the hunter said finally after a long moment of silence.
“I know that it seems insignificant. But remember that the truth always has a way to reveal itself. Maybe you should start to wonder when your sister stopped shooting to stun, and started to use bullets stuffed with enough wolfsbane to kill a grownup werewolf, instead. And then you will have your truth revealed,” the boy said sadly. “Come on, let’s go home. We’re both tired, and stressed, and I really don’t want to fight with you.”
The boy started to clean the bench, throwing the boxes and cups away. Chris clenched his fists repeatedly, feeling an urge to release his pent-up anger and frustration at something, or someone. He reined in that urge and drove the young werewolf home, because he wasn’t going to harm anyone because of their words, no matter how painful they were.
On the other hand, he still had one last task to do before he could call it a night. And releasing his ire on a child abuser seemed like a consolation prize after a day such as this.
Chapter Text
Waking up wasn’t the most pleasant feeling for Isaac, his body throbbing and hurting still. However, the pain seemed dulled compared to the day before, so he wasn’t complaining. Opening his eyes, he realized that he wasn’t in his room anymore and remembered-
He remembered everything.
It wasn’t a fevered dream, he really had been rescued by Scott and Mr Argent, and brought to the McCalls. He also recalled the most awkward bath he had ever had in his entire life and how he somehow wasn’t bothered by it, since it was Scott who had helped him through it.
Scott, who was currently snoring quietly on the chair beside Isaac’s bed.
Stifling a laugh, Isaac gently poked the other teen on the leg, which caused him to wake up instantly, eyes blinking blearily. When Scott realized that Isaac was awake as well, he perked up instantly.
“Hi there, I almost thought you were going to sleep ‘till noon,” Scott teased with a smile. “Falling asleep in a chair was definitely not my best idea. I feel like an old man,” the boy complained and started to stretch, which caused his t-shirt to reveal a bit of his flat stomach.
The sight made Isaac flustered and he looked away, feeling hot all of a sudden. He was almost thankful that his face was probably red due to the bruises, otherwise he would be forced to explain to Scott why he was blushing at the sight of him.
Which was not a conversation he was looking forward to having anytime soon. Or ever, now that he thought of it. Maybe he could just… admire the other teen from afar, acting aloof and not in the least interested in anything physical, like touching that unfairly tempting stomach with his fingertips. Or mouth, if he felt particularly daring.
In an attempt to take his mind off his treacherous thoughts, Isaac asked: "What time is it? And shouldn't you be at the school?"
"Mom gave me a one-time approval to stay at home with you. She has a morning shift at work today and she didn't want you to wake up alone and disoriented," Scott explained, then asked: "Are you hungry?"
"Starving," admitted Isaac.
"Then breakfast is in order. I'll whip us some pancakes and then I'll fill you in on what's happened so far. No serious thoughts until then, deal?"
"Deal," agreed Isaac.
Scott ruffled his hair playfully, then left the room, leaving Isaac in a peculiar state of want and confusion, with a smidge of apprehension.
Realizing that he needed to go to the toilet, Isaac stood up wobbly. He was feeling light-headed and slightly dizzy, but managed to slowly get to the bathroom without any problems.
However, once he looked at himself in the mirror, he instantly regretted it. He looked terrible, there was no other way to describe it. While he wasn't so swollen as before, and there were no open wounds that he could see, his skin was a mixture of angry red and vicious pink bruises which looked awful on his pale complexion.
And to think that he had just entertained some mildly sexual thoughts while looking like that!
Feeling self-conscious and ashamed of himself, he decided that he needed to focus on more important things, like what was going to happen to him. And what his father would do to him once Isaac got back home, which was the very thought he had been trying very hard to push away from himself since the moment he had awoken, not wanting to fall into a full mode panic attack.
Realizing that being in the dark and not knowing all the facts wasn't doing him any good, he went downstairs. He found Scott in the kitchen, a pan in hand, flipping pancakes to the other side.
The teen smiled at seeing Isaac and asked: "What would you like to drink? Coffee, milk, juice?"
"Milk, please," said Isaac, because eating pancakes with milk was his favourite combination since he had been a small kid, and he couldn't resist the temptation, no matter how childish it might make him look.
"Sit down, breakfast will be ready in a moment," Scott shooed him away, and Isaac complied, sitting at the table and looking wistfully at the domestic sight the other teen made.
He could get used to it, he thought once he was given a plate full of fluffy pancakes with sour cream and warm maple syrup.
"Eat, and I will fill you in on the situation," said Scott then started to summarize what had happened yesterday evening.
Apparently, Mr Argent was some kind of a master of interrogation, manipulation and intimidation, since he had somehow managed to convince Isaac's father to sign voluntary termination of parental rights papers as well as adoption documents, so that Scott's mom could take Isaac in, not to mention a statement that during the period of the case awaiting the court's decision Isaac was free to stay with the McCalls.
He was astounded. While some part of him regretted the fact that his relationship with his father got to the point where they were no longer able to be under the same roof, he couldn't help but feel an overwhelming relief that his nightmare was finally over. That there will be no more rows, beatings, no more being locked in a basement…
He didn't realize that he was crying until Scott sat down beside him and took Isaac's hands in his, squeezing gently, calming him down with his mere presence.
"Do you really don’t mind that I'll be staying with you?" asked Isaac once he had calmed down a little, because an offer of friendship was one thing, but living together, as a family, was something different altogether.
But Scott assured him softly: "Mind? Isaac, it was my idea in the first place. I'd love to have you here."
And just like that, Isaac fell in love even deeper.
***
Later, Scott changed Isaac's bandages, applying a fresh salve on the bruised skin and making sure that there was no sign of infection or inflammation. While feeling better, generally, Isaac was still getting tired easily, so Scott tucked him in and told him to take a much needed nap.
The teen was cleaning the kitchen when Derek texted him.
"Scott, the full moon's within a couple of days, we really need to start looking for the Alpha, and quickly."
The boy frowned, he felt the impatience, the urge to act in the older werewolf, but he still didn't know how to tell him that the Alpha Derek was so insistent on catching was in fact his uncle. Who Scott didn't want to kill, not if there was any way to pacify him instead. No, he needed time to think, to reflect on how he was going to approach the issue. Acting in a rush had never done him any good in the past, and he didn’t intend to do so now.
I can't, not today, but we'll meet tomorrow and talk about this, alright? he sent the message, then busied himself with his tasks.
He didn't think twice about the fact that Derek hadn't texted him back.
***
Derek was restless. The new loft, no matter how spacious it was, still felt like a cage. He hated being confined, as the wolf in him despised cages of all shapes and forms. And today, even his bond with Scott felt like shackles upon his wrists. He hated doing nothing while the rabid Alpha was still out there, roaming through the woods and maybe planning his next move, his next kill.
Derek itched to hunt the bastard down and rip him apart piece by piece for killing Laura, who had been his anchor ever since their house had been burned and the rest of their family killed. He had found a new anchor, his own anger and pain, to control his transformations, but at the same time, the same anger now burned through his insides like an acid.
He needed to avenge his sister, and if Scott wasn't willing to help him, then he hadn't been a particular good Alpha in the first place, had he?
The whole bonding with a much younger Alpha started to become a burden, a liability which Derek didn't need. While it had served its purpose of giving him a feeling of family, a sense of belonging, Derek just started to realize that maybe it wasn't enough in the long run.
Oh, he cared for Scott, of course he did. How could he not? Not loving that boy was nearly impossible. But Scott had yet to prove himself as a leader, and so Derek thought to himself that he must step up and seek his vengeance by his own. And if he managed to kill the Alpha who had murdered his sister and become one himself, well, that would be just an additional boon, right?
He remembered the triskelion and the mantra: Alpha, Beta, Omega. Alphas could become Betas. Betas could become Alphas. It was the way of the universe, the constant shift, the evolution, the power of change, of transformation.
Quelling the small voice inside him that begged him not to do this, not to act behind Scott’s back, Derek decided that come nightfall, he was going to finally do what he came to Beacon Hills for: hunt.
Chapter Text
Derek strolled through the woods, fully transformed and showing his animal traits, enjoying the feeling of how his fangs grazed his lips lightly, and how his claws digged into his palms. He had been born a werewolf and he couldn’t imagine not being one.
When he caught the scent of a foreign Alpha, his whole demeanor changed from relaxed into a fully alert one, his eyes flashing cold blue. This was it. This was his chance. He followed the scent which led him out of the woods and onto the streets. He forced himself to turn back into a human, because no matter how much he enjoyed being in his werewolf form, he couldn’t allow other people to get a sight of him.
Looking around, he finally caught a sight of a huge black silhouette, standing in quite a distance from Derek but still perfectly visible in the yellowish light of the city lamps. Suddenly, the Alpha jumped onto a car driving the street, and Derek sprinted in that direction, afraid that he won’t be able to get there in time to save the driver’s life. And then the sound of a gun being fired thundered through the air and the Alpha staggered, wounded, then jumped off the car and retreated into the shadows.
A blond-haired woman got out of the car, holding a shotgun in a tight grip, and Derek realized that he was almost foolish enough to try to rescue a bloody fully-armed huntress, and not a random one, either. It was that Argent bitch who had manipulated him, used him and had caused him to unknowingly aid her in her quest to obliterate his family from existence.
Derek gritted his teeth, torn between following the Alpha and attacking the woman on the spot. After a moment of hesitation, he decided that the huntress was a known enemy, and the Alpha was very much an unknown entity still. Derek could get Kate Argent later, but that feral werewolf… He needed to follow him, and he needed to do so now, while the trail was still fresh.
Decision made, he climbed to the roof where the Alpha had gone a minute earlier, only to hear a sound of another shot. In a split second he felt his shoulder being hit, causing him to lose his balance. Gritting his teeth, Derek ran, trying to get out of the shooting distance as fast as possible. Once the shock and adrenaline faded, he noticed that he was breathing harshly and that his heart was beating irregularly.
Which made him realize that this wasn’t a standard bullet. He had just been hit with a wolfsbane, and on the shoulder no less. Unless he got his hands on exactly the same kind of bullet, and fast, he was already a dead man walking. Since he got shot on his shoulder, there was no option for him to cut off the poisoned limb, no last resort available. It was either get cured, or die.
He heard quick footsteps coming into his direction and he quickly hid in a dark alley, praying that it wasn’t Kate Argent or another hunter trying to finish her job. Though why they would feel the need to do so, since Derek had already been hit with a poisoned bullet, he had no idea. Unless they wanted to play their cruel games with him until he died, that is. He wouldn’t put it past them if that was their plan.
Tense, he waited as the footsteps got closer and closer to him, when he heard a familiar voice calling him: “Derek? Is that you?”
The wounded werewolf almost staggered on his feet from sheer relief. His Alpha had come for him.
“I’m here,” he answered quietly, but knowing that with his keen senses, Scott would hear him.
The teen came into view, worry evident on his face. He ran up to Derek and quickly examined his wound.
“Wolfsbane,” Scott said, his tone grave. “We need to get you out of here, and fast, before you’re too weakened to walk on your own. Come on, your loft is the closest. Just focus on moving, and I’ll have your back.”
Derek closed his eyes, gathering his strength, and followed his Alpha’s orders, focusing on getting back to his apartment, trusting Scott to protect him if there were any hunters still on their trail.
Around a hundred yards remaining to the flat Derek felt his strengths leaving him, and he swayed on his feet. Scott immediately caught him, curled an arm around his waist and supported his weight. Together, they managed to stumble their way into the apartment, and Scott gently lowered him onto the sofa.
For a moment, the only sound that could be heard in the room was their harsh breathing.
“Why aren’t you scolding me? Why aren’t you cursing me for being reckless, and a fool?” asked Derek finally.
“Believe me, I want to scream at you until my throat hurts. But I don’t see how that’s going to help anything, so I reserve the right to do that once you’re healed,” answered Scott, sitting beside him.
“If you recognized the wolfsbane in my wound, then you must know that I’m as good as dead already,” said Derek bitterly. “A shot on the shoulder, and so close to the heart at that… I have maybe a few hours left before the poison kills me.”
“Don’t say that,” protested Scott. “I won’t give up on you just yet, there’s still time to act. I just need to figure out how to get my hands on the same bullet that hit you.”
“It’s the Argents. How are you going to get into their house in the middle of the night? If it was a day, you could weasel your way inside under some false pretense, but now? Their house is literally fortified with the mountain ash. You won’t be able to get in, not without an invitation,” Derek tried to reason with the teen.
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” murmured Scott. “Listen, just keep laying still and don’t move around too much, hopefully it will slow the wolfsbane down and stop it from spreading too fast. I’m going to get that bullet and save your sorry ass, so don’t you die on me, do you understand?”
Derek swallowed with difficulty and just nodded, not trusting his voice at the moment. He watched as the boy left and closed the doors behind him.
Once he was alone, Derek allowed himself to weep and curse himself for his own stupidity. How could he have gone after the Alpha alone, when he had Scott to have his back? How could he have ever thought that Scott had no leadership qualities, that he wasn’t a good enough Alpha, when it was blatantly obvious that the boy was a natural-born leader and a protector at heart?
He could only hope that Scott would be back soon, with or without the cure, because Derek wanted to at least have the chance to apologize to him before it was too late.
***
Chris was incensed when he saw his sister prowling the street with a shotgun in hand for all the world to see. While it had been the middle of the night, that didn’t necessarily mean there was no one watching them. And Chris would hate if their family lost their licence to deal weapons just because his wayward sister was too trigger-happy and not knowing the meaning of the word ‘discretion’.
Then he heard her bragging about using a wolfsbane bullet on that Beta, and he felt numb inside in an instant. He clearly recalled Scott’s words from their trip to the lake, that Kate no longer shoots to stun but to kill, and that she has no qualms about using wolfsbane-laced bullets. Which, as per the Code, should be used as a last resort, and only on werewolves convicted of committing a crime.
“Kate, you know that you can’t just use wolfsbane bullets on all the werewolves that you come across. This is not how we should conduct ourselves,” he scolded her gently.
“Well, forgive me for defending myself,” she protested.
“That Beta that you just shot was on the roof, nowhere near you and already running away. This was no self-defense, Kate, this was you being overzealous,” he pressed, trying to get her to admit that she was in the wrong.
She just rolled her eyes at him. “Don’t be such a spoilsport! It was just one pesky wolf,” she laughed. “Come on, let’s go home, I need to rest. That werewolf will be dead soon, which means one monster less to worry about. I’m definitely not going to lose sleep over this.”
With those words she returned to her car and Chris had no choice but to go back to his. Driving back home, he wondered what he should do, now.
He prided himself on being an effective, sometimes even ruthless killer if the situation called for it, but he also liked to think that he was unprejudiced and just in his dealings with the werewolves. After all, the hunters were supposed to be the supernatural equivalent of law-enforcement, right?... So why did he have this feeling that his family had long since stopped following the law, themselves?
When they arrived, Chris smiled at Kate and told her to take a shower and go to sleep. She seemed relieved that their conflict was over, so she left her bags in her room before going to the bathroom. Hearing the water being turned on, Chris entered her bedroom and quickly went through her bags, immediately recognizing the wooden box with wolfsbane bullets. He grabbed the whole set and left quickly, going to his car in quick strides.
What was he supposed to do, now? Was he truly changing sides, now, and over a wounded werewolf that he didn’t even know? But this wasn’t about that, he knew that. He was picking doing what he felt was right over the loyalty to his family. This wasn’t an easy choice, but he had a feeling that if he didn’t do something, this death would be on his hands. He had managed to be a hunter for almost two decades with his conscience clear, and he didn’t intend to change it now.
Wait, Scott was a werewolf, and had earlier mentioned a pack. Maybe he would know who had been shot by Kate? However, calling the teenager at three in the morning seemed like an overkill. Chris bit his lip, then decided to go for it. Since it was to save a life, Scott would surely understand the urgency.
He took the phone out his pocket and called the teen.
“Mr Argent, what is it?” the boy answered quickly, sounding alert and not in the least like someone who just woke up.
“Hi Scott, sorry for calling you at his hour, but a werewolf just got shot and I wanted to make sure you’re alright.”
“I’m not hurt, but my packmate is currently dying of wolfsbane poisoning, so I’m far from being alright, ” said the teen tersely.
“I have the same bullet with me and I want to give it to you,” Chris decided to get straight to the point. “Where are you? I’ll meet you there.”
There was a long moment of silence, then the boy replied: “Is this some kind of elaborate trap? If that’s the case, I’m not in the mood for hunters' mind games, tonight.”
“Neither am I. Listen, this is not exactly easy for me either, so can we just meet and get this over with?” asked Chris, losing his patience.
"I'm sorry I just snapped at you," the boy sounded contrite. "I'm stressed out, but I didn't mean to take it out on you. Let’s meet at the petrol station, alright? I’ll be there in five minutes,” the young werewolf proposed.
"It's fine, and apology accepted," Chris said before disconnecting.
When he arrived at the station, the teen was already there, waiting for him. Chris parked nearby, then got out of the car. It took Scott one look at the wooden box in his hands, and it was like a switch was suddenly turned on, as the whole myriad of emotions appeared on his face all at once: relief, hope, gratitude, joy.
“You really have it,” the boy said, breathlessly, disbelievingly. "And you're going to give me the bullet, so that I can save my friend?"
“I said I will, didn’t I?” teased Chris with a small smile.
What he didn't expect was for the boy to hug him enthusiastically, murmuring his thanks. For a moment Chris was too stupefied to react, but then gladly returned the embrace. He knew that he sometimes came off as aloof and unfeeling, but the truth was that once he started caring about someone, which didn't happen often, he did it without reservations.
Scott released him from his hold with a slight blush, looking quite apologetic for his outburst.
"I'm so sorry, it's the werewolf thing, you know, being so physical. So, next time I attempt to do something crazy like embracing you again, just feel free to smack me on the head or something, alright? I'll get the hint," the boy offered, and Chris rolled his eyes.
"Scott, it's fine. It's not like hugging you is a chore. Just, don't attempt to do this when people are around? I don't want to give them wrong ideas about the nature of our relationship."
"You're a private person, got it," the boy nodded.
Chris opened the box and took out one bullet, then handed it to the teen. "Here, take it. Do you know what to do with it?"
The boy nodded. "I do. Thank you again, Mr Argent, I owe you one. But, won't you get in trouble for helping us?" he asked worriedly, and Chris was acutely reminded of one of the reasons why he had come to like Scott in the first place. And that was because, for someone who was supposed to be a monster, Scott had more empathy than most people that Chris had met.
"I'm a grown-up hunter, remember? Don't worry, I'll be fine. Besides, my family and I are going to have a long, nice discussion about what are the appropriate ways of dealing with the werewolves. I'm just going to remind them that using wolfsbane-laced bullets is not one of them," Chris stated and said his goodbyes.
Driving back home, he thought about what he had said to Scott, and how he'd downplayed the consequences of his actions today. There was a fair chance that he would be cast out of the hunters society for aiding a werewolf, but he couldn't bring himself to feel any regret.
Chapter Text
Scott gripped the wolfsbane bullet in his hand and marvelled how similar, and yet profoundly different this timeline was comparing to the previous one. He already loved so many people here, and wasn't afraid to show it. And somehow, it made all the difference.
First time around, he had feared Derek and trusted him as far as he could throw him, and had been deeply apprehensive of Chris Argent as well, ever since the man had shot him with a crossbow. Now, though, he couldn't imagine not having both of them at his side.
And there were so many people out there that he needed to bring together still. Peter, Deucalion, Aidan and Ethan, Malia, Liam, Theo… So many, many people that he had missed so. But he could do it, one packmate after another. He needed to believe in it.
Going back to Derek's loft, he let go of his anger at the man, his hurt and disappointment that the older werewolf had decided to hunt the other Alpha alone and without telling him. All of these emotions, they were nothing compared to the gripping fear that he had felt at the mere thought of losing Derek. It was as simple as that; his anchor, it had always been love.
He opened the door to Derek's apartment, went inside and smiled at the older werewolf.
"I've got the bullet," he said simply, which caused Derek to sag bonelessly on the sofa from relief.
Scott opened the bullet with his teeth, a reminiscence of a similar scene a lifetime ago, when Derek had been shot on the arm and not on his shoulder. After burning down the wolfsbane, he gathered the remaining ashes and asked the older werewolf: "Ready?"
"Do it," Derek grumbled, bracing himself, and Scott promptly pressed the ashes to his wound.
The man howled, writhing in pain. Scott pressed even harder, pushing his fingers deep into the wound to make sure that no trace of the poison remained in his Beta's body. Slowly, all traces of the infection disappeared and the tremors wracking Derek's body finally subsided.
After a moment, the older werewolf looked at him with gratitude mixed with regret. "Scott, you have every right to be mad at me. I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have-"
Scott put his finger above his Beta's mouth, silencing him. "Derek, you need never, ever apologize to me. It is I that should be apologizing to you. I downplayed your feelings and your needs for far too long, which caused you to doubt me in the process. I will not do so again," he promised.
"No, you don't understand it, I wanted to hunt down the Alpha so that I could…" The man looked away in shame, but Scott took a hold of his chin and gently turned his face so that they were looking at each other.
"So that you could become an Alpha yourself, I know," Scott said simply. "And it's alright, I'm not mad at you. If being an Alpha is so important to you, then I'm not going to hold you back." He sighed, knowing all too well that he needed to tell Derek what was at stake here. He couldn't keep him in the dark, not anymore. "Derek, you wanting to be an Alpha isn't an issue here, but that you want to kill someone in order to become one, that is a different thing altogether.”
"Well, we can't be all True Alphas, so how else am I supposed to become one, if not through killing?" asked Derek bitterly, sitting up and crossing his arms over his chest defensively.
Scott closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his courage. "Your uncle Peter is the Alpha. That's why we can't kill him. He's family," he said finally.
Seeing the shocked disbelief appearing on the man's face was painful to watch.
"How do you know about Peter? I can’t… I don't believe you, my uncle, he wouldn't have killed Laura. He loved her, loved all of us, " Derek protested vehemently.
Scott knelt before him and tried to take the man's hands in his own, but the man wouldn’t let him.
"Derek, I swear to you, it's the truth. Peter killed Laura in order to become an Alpha, because he is mad with pain and thirst for revenge. He believed that being an Alpha of the Hale pack was his right, not hers. But remember, his mind is in a very dark place right now. If he was sane, he wouldn't ever kill a member of his own family. And neither can we," Scott stressed, trying to convey how strongly he felt about this.
"Let's say I believe you. What can we do, then?" Derek asked, almost aggressively. "We can't let him remain an Alpha, because he's turned rabid. So what other option do we have other than killing him?"
"Do you trust me?" asked Scott in return. "Do you trust me to find a way out of this without killing Peter in the process?"
The man looked at him, clenching his jaw. "I thought that I was going to die today, but you somehow managed to get that bullet required to save me. I'm not sure if there is a way to stop Peter without killing him, but if it is, I trust you to figure it out," he said finally.
“That’s all I ask,” Scott squeezed Derek’s hands and this time the man didn’t fight the gesture. “Now, get some rest. I’ve got to go to school in the morning, but meet me there around three-thirty, and we’ll go visit your uncle.”
***
When Scott got back home, sneaking in through the window, the sun was already rising on the horizon. He was exhausted, both physically and emotionally, but even though he tried, he couldn't fall asleep, his mind was so alert that it made him unable to relax for what seemed like an eternity. When he had finally fallen into a fitful sleep, he was awoken shortly after by the alarm in his phone.
Right, school. The joy of being an adolescent. At this moment, he envied Isaac that he was staying at home, as his bruises were still too fresh to risk aggravating them by accident.
The entire day Scott went through the motions, and ignored the troubled looks his friends gave him. When Stiles poked him in the ribs, he just mumbled "werewolf business, tell you later".
Finally, the classes were over and he went to the parking space, quickly locating Derek's car. He stepped inside, taking a seat beside him, and a single look at his packmate was enough for Scott to feel his strengths returning, all traces of weariness gone in a second. Whatever happens later today, he was grateful to have Derek by his side.
However, judging by the grim face and shadows under his eyes, the older werewolf hadn't had the best day, either.
"It will be alright, you know," Scott assured him.
"I don't need empty platitudes," the man snapped at him.
"They're not empty if I believe in them," said Scott simply.
Derek said nothing but started the car and drove in the direction of the nursing home in which Peter resided in.
They drove there in tense, uncomfortable silence which worried Scott, but when they got out of the car, Derek gripped his arm hard.
"Scott, I'm sorry. If this is the last time we're a pack, I don't… I don't want us to be angry with each other," the man admitted, looking vulnerable.
"Derek, I don't care if after today you're an Alpha or a Beta. We'll always be a pack," the boy assured him.
"You know that's not how it works,” said Derek sceptically.
"This is how it works for me,” countered Scott. “For once, forget the rules drilled into your head since birth. Being a True Alpha, it means that I operate on pure belief and the strength of my conviction. That's why I said that it will be alright. If I didn't believe in it, there wouldn't be any sense in doing this at all," the teen explained. "Now, come here."
Scott pulled the older werewolf into a tight embrace, sending a myriad of feelings through their bond: love, acceptance, trust, care. An endless source of warmth that would not fade with time, a solemn vow that he had taken long before even agreeing to travel back into his past.
The pack remains forever.
In return, he was able to sense Derek's feelings as well, his awe, gratitude, hope. Scott squeezed him hard one last time before letting go.
"Remember, Peter is not our enemy, his state of mind is," he reminded his packmate. "That's why I will dive into his mind in an attempt to cure his madness. If I fail at this, we will need to restrain him and force him into submission. If he goes feral and transforms into his wolf form… We might be forced to kill him, though I would rather avoid it at all costs, if possible. Alright?"
The man nodded grimly and they entered the nursing home together, the older werewolf leading them straight to Peter's room. Once inside, Derek sat in a chair opposite to Peter's unmoving form, trying to appear as if he was merely visiting.
"Hi, uncle," he said quietly.
Meanwhile, Scott circled Peter, as if moving idly, in boredom. Once he was directly behind the man, he moved quickly as lightning, one hand closing on Peter's mouth to silence him, and the other digging his claws into the man's spine.
And then he dived.
***
The fire, it was everywhere, a fiery whirlwind, a universe of pain. It was unimaginable, like a step into hell which no one believed in anymore, yet it was there, a real, scorching nightmare, burning with ease through skin, muscles, through bone and marrow, invading, violating, obliterating.
Scott shuddered, his entire being protesting against being here, trying to run away, to get back to safety. But deep inside, in a place not yet burned to ashes, Scott remembered. Somewhere among the firestorm there was his packmate, whom he had already lost once, and he didn't intend to lose ever again, not if he could do anything about it.
Because no matter how unbearable and encompassing the pain of being burned was, losing his whole pack - one by one by one - and being helpless to stop it had hurt harder and deeper than even a hellfire ever could. Scott knew the true soul-pain and this - these hot white flames obscenely licking at him, they were nothing in comparison.
Scott closed his eyes and rather than flinching away from the fire, he embraced it, allowing it to cauterize all the gaping wounds inside his soul, each hole left by the bonds broken by death in a life that had once been his own, and he finally felt whole again. This time rather than hurt, the flames were healing, cleansing, invigorating, a holy fire, the purest of lights. And once the fire dissipated, so did the pain.
***
Scott withdrew his claws and released Peter from his hold. The man slumped and would have slid down from the chair if it wasn't for Derek's quick reflexes, as he caught him just in time.
Peter groaned, his eyes blazing with a bright red light for a split second, before they returned back to normal. The man gripped his head, murmuring: "Who drove that car which just hit me? I'm going to sue them."
Derek looked at Scott with confusion, but the teen just laughed, not ashamed in the slightest at the tear that trickled down his cheek.
"Hello, Peter," the boy greeted him. "It's good to have you back with us."
Chapter Text
Peter looked at the teenager, confused. “Sorry, kid, but I don’t recall us ever being introduced, much less being on a first name basis.”
The happy, carefree look on Scott’s face disappeared in an instant. This was not his Peter, he needed to remember that. For all that this man had Peter’s mannerism, voice and looks, he didn’t have his experience, which had changed Scott’s Peter from a sociopathic megalomaniac into a decent human being, and a much loved, if somewhat irritating, member of his pack.
“I suggest we postpone the introductions until we’re out of here,” the boy proposed. “I don’t like this place.”
“Tell me about it. The service is terrible,” murmured Peter, then said in a more firm tone: “The problem is, I don’t know what’s just happened as my mind is a mess at the moment but I’m not sure if I can trust either of you, nephew or not. So no, I’m not going anywhere with you.”
The man acted as arrogantly as ever and Scott needed to suppress an urge to roll his eyes in exasperation. He didn’t get the chance to reply as the doors opened and a nurse came in, a viciously looking syringe gripped tightly in her hand.
“What’s going on here? It’s already past the visiting hours. This man needs to be sedated,” she said, her beady eyes glinting with malice, and Peter visibly gulped.
“On second thought, I’d rather take the chances with the two of you then stay here even a day longer,” he changed his mind suddenly, eying the syringe with apprehension.
Scott stifled a giggle at the thought that the big bad Alpha was afraid of needles. Who would have thought?
“As you can see, our uncle Peter has just awoken from his comatose state and we’re here to take him home,” he announced brightly, instead. “We would appreciate it if you showed us the way to the reception desk so that we can sign the papers for his discharge,” the teen said with a perfectly fake, wide smile.
“You can’t just take him! This man needs to take his medicine,” the nurse protested.
Scott took one look at the health card hanging on the bed’s grating and whistled, impressed. “Sister, I don’t know how this place operates but what is listed here? It would put a grizzly bear into sleep for half a year. So either you let us leave, or we will put an inquiry for a full audit, right, uncle?” the boy nudged Peter suggestively.
“Absolutely. I immensely enjoy digging deep into a case,” the man confirmed, smugly.
The nurse visibly deflated. “The reception desk is right at the entrance,” she growled almost animalistically, then left in a huff.
Scott shuddered. This place gave him creeps. The three werewolves looked at each other then left the room without delaying further.
At the reception, Derek demanded to be given the documents needed to have Peter discharged from the facility and glared at the poor receptionist until she finally relented. Since there were no doctors present at this hour who could give them green light, Peter had to sign a paper confirming that he demanded discharge against medical advice and he accepted the full responsibility for it. Needless to say, Peter signed the paper in a blink of an eye and then they were free to go.
They got into the car, the Hales at the front and Scott on the back seat. He didn't mind, though. He would rather have Peter in sight where he could observe him, than have the man at his back. He wouldn't put an actual, literal backstabbing past him. After all, he recalled that Peter had always been the most bloodthirsty of them all, even after his change of heart.
They drove for a while, when Peter decided to break the silence: "While this is quite a lovely reunion, I must insist on getting properly introduced. I'm not used to being addressed by my first name or called an uncle by strangers."
"Scott's my Alpha," Derek deadpanned, not the one to beat around the bush.
Peter's eyes widened and he turned around, looking at the teen sceptically. "Please, tell me you jest. This scrawny, unkempt kid, an Alpha? You've got the worst sense of humor, nephew."
Derek growled, a warning clear in his voice, but Scott just laughed.
"Derek, you don't need to defend me. I know my worth," he assured his Beta and sent his amusement via their bond which calmed the other werewolf instantly.
Peter observed their interactions with interest. "So it finally happened, someone has domesticated my dear nephew after all," he mused. "Pray tell, kid, how on earth did you manage to accomplish this?"
"I used my own triskelion mantra for this," said Scott vaguely, smiling secretly.
"You're not going to tell me, are you?"
"Nope," the teen said, relishing in Peter's frustration at not knowing something.
"Pity," the man murmured, shrugging, but Scott wasn't fooled. The other Alpha must have been itching to get his hands on Scott's secrets. Not that that was going to happen, but then again, Peter didn't know that.
Once they arrived, Scott asked his Beta: "I didn't see any neighbours around, so I was wondering, does anyone live here beside you?"
"I own the whole building," admitted Derek. "I don't like other people much."
Scott only smiled with amusement at hearing that. It's not like he hadn't been expecting this.
Once they entered the apartment, Peter looked around in interest. "The loft's a bit austere, perhaps, but quite in a good taste. Well, well, well, I'm actually impressed."
"Scott helped with redecorating," Derek offered and Peter looked at the teen with disbelief.
"What? I do have a taste, you know," protested Scott. "It's just that most of the time, I just don't care for it much."
"I can see that," Peter looked at the teen's jeans and oversized shirt with disdain.
"Enough!" growled Derek. "Scott, tell me what you have discovered in Peter's mind. Is he sane? Should we kill him, or let him live?"
Peter looked at the teen, his face incensed. "You were in my mind? That's why it's so disorganized now!" he said accusingly, his fangs and claws coming forth.
"Sorry to disappoint you, but the chaos? It's all your doing," Scott informed him. "I only calmed down the firestorm which was burning you from the inside and causing you to lash out mindlessly."
"Let's find out how long you'll last with my claws down your neck," Peter growled, his eyes burning frenzied red as he jumped at Scott, claws digging into the back of the boy's neck, who was still in his human form and seemingly defenseless.
But Scott was having none of it. His mind held memories of two lives, there was no way in hell he was going to let anyone near it. In an instant, Scott pushed the angry Alpha away from him, augmenting the shove with additional strength which came from within him, the True Alpha power that was at his disposal no matter his form, causing Peter to crash painfully into the wall with a loud thud.
Only then the teen allowed himself to transform into a werewolf, letting the ruby red of his Alpha eyes shine true. "Lesson number one, Peter Hale: my mind's a fortress to which you will never, ever have an access to."
The man groaned, laying on the floor in a heap. Scott came closer and stood above him, watching him dispassionately.
"Lesson number two: I am in charge here. I don't care if you're an Alpha right now, you killed your niece to obtain that power, and it's despicable. You might have been mad then, but you're not anymore, and you still attack people. So I declare you unfit to be an Alpha," the boy said gravely, looking for any sign of remorse on Peter's face. He saw none.
"You talk too much," hissed the man and started to transform into a giant black wolf, but Scott roared, a wave similar to a power of a thousands guns rolling through the air and Peter cried out, forced back to his human form, clenching his hands on his ears in a vain attempt to block the noise.
Scott focused on the other werewolf, saw the bright red Alpha spark inside the man, and then he took a hold of it and pulled hard. The experience was similar in nature to taking off the berserker's mask. Once he was able to perceive the thin border between the material and spiritual world, it was surprisingly easy to separate one from the other. It came natural to him.
He opened his palm, a twirling red globe lying there innocently. He beckoned Derek closer, and the man complied, awe and fear warring on his face.
"Derek, I told you that if it is your wish, I will not stand in your way of becoming an Alpha. Is this something that you still desire?"
"Yes," the man confirmed firmly.
"Then be one," Scott said simply and pushed the red spark into Derek's chest.
The werewolf growled loudly, tremors wracking his body as his cold blue eyes gradually changed into a brilliant red. After a moment, Derek stilled, then stated: "I'm an Alpha now."
Scott just smiled brilliantly at him.
***
Peter couldn't believe what had just happened. Ever since killing Laura and becoming an Alpha, he'd felt stronger, faster, more powerful than ever. While he hadn't enjoyed killing his niece, far from it, he felt it was justified, a necessary evil, for the better werewolf to take up the mantle of leading the pack. It had been that way for centuries, it was the way the werewolves operated, a universal law. It wasn’t nice, but it was unavoidable.
But today, just the moment before, he had been proven false by a mere teenager, who had no bloody right to ooze power such as he did. This kid, Scott, had thrown him into a wall while still being a human, stopped Peter’s transformation with a single roar and if that weren’t enough, he had also managed to take the Alpha spark away from Peter and transfer it into Derek. Three impossibilities, three unimaginable acts, all performed in a row like it was nothing, while for Peter, it meant everything.
Because it meant that all this time, he had been in the wrong. Not intentionally, no, but he hadn't had all the facts, he had acted on the wrong assumptions, and he had killed Laura for nothing. Her death, it hadn't been unavoidable or necessary. Apparently, there were other ways to obtain true power, he himself was a living proof of it, the absence of the Alpha spark inside him still painful and raw.
Peter curled on the cold floor, feeling disconnected from everything around him, his eyes unseeing, turned inwards as he lost himself in the darkness that was his soul.
Chapter Text
He was an Alpha now.
He was an Alpha.
Derek felt a hysterical laugh bubbling inside his chest and he suppressed it ruthlessly. This was not a moment to go into shock, of all things. They still need to figure out what to do with Peter, if he was still posing a danger to them and needed to be subdued.
He looked to where the man was lying on the floor. He was able to hear his heartbeat and Peter’s chest was moving slightly in the rhythm of his breathing, but other than that, the man didn't move a muscle.
“Let’s check up on him,” Derek said and Scott agreed readily.
Once they came closer and rolled Peter onto his back, they realized that he was, once again, in a comatose state.
"Do you know what could have caused that?" wondered Derek.
"I have no idea," admitted Scott, examining the lying man. "Physically he seems healthy, there's no sign of injury or concussion. Maybe losing the Alpha powers was too much of a shock to him? Or it might be something mentally or emotionally that is ailing him," guessed Scott.
"Could you dive into his mind again?"
"Let's wait a couple of hours to see if he gets better on his own," the younger werewolf suggested. "He didn't take kindly to having his privacy violated that way, so I'd rather avoid doing it again, unless we have no other choice."
“Probably a good idea,” muttered Derek.
“Come on, let’s move him to the sofa, lying on the floor like that can’t be comfortable."
While they were carrying Peter across the room, Derek kept shooting glances at the younger werewolf.
He owed the boy everything he had, including his life and his status as an Alpha. He was indebted to him so much, he didn't think he would ever be able to pay his debt off. And yet, he didn’t know how to act around him anymore. Just a couple of days before, it had been so easy, their closeness, both mental and physical, had been so natural, instinctual even, ingrained into a level deep beneath the conscious thought.
Now, though, without the Beta instincts to guide him, Derek felt confused and unsure of himself. Would the teen still want to have the same level of closeness with him? Or would they just… drift apart, until what they had used to share will be nothing more than a fond memory?
“Hey, what is it?” Scott asked, once they were done. “I can almost feel you frowning. Is something the matter?”
Derek didn’t reply at once. Talking about his feelings had never been his forte, and sometimes he felt as if he was emotionally deficient in a way, because deciphering and explaining his own feelings to others had always seemed daunting to him.
"While I’m glad for the chance to be an Alpha, I'm going to miss being your Beta almost as much," he said finally, hoping that Scott will understand the full meaning of his words. "I think I already do, to be honest."
The boy looked at him with a careful scrutiny, which made him fidget a bit. Seeing that, the teen hugged him, and Derek melted into his embrace. Earlier he had thought that his inner wolf might protest at being so close to another Alpha; after all, they were quite territorial in nature. However, once Derek buried his nose in the boy's hair and inhaled deeply, the wolf inside him calmed down instantly. There was no conflict, no struggle for power here, only tenderness.
"Don't worry, we'll always find a way back to each other," the younger werewolf said quietly. "Just because you're no longer my Beta it doesn't mean that I suddenly stopped caring for you."
Derek closed his eyes, relishing in the sweetness of that promise. Tomorrow, he will be the Alpha he had always wanted to be, strong and unmovable. But today he needed the comfort Scott offered so readily, he needed it so desperately that he might actually fall apart if Scott would leave him now.
“Stay for the night, please?” he asked, allowing himself to feel hopeful despite the vulnerability lurking underneath.
Scott’s gaze was impossibly gentle as he said: “Let me call my mom, first. Since it’s Friday, I don’t think she’s going to mind.”
***
Once Scott quoted 'official werewolf business', his mom relented and allowed him to stay at Derek’s. He also texted Isaac, just so that the boy knew he was going to be away until tomorrow.
He and Derek spent the evening quietly, making dinner, talking, enjoying the other’s presence and learning how to be near each other again without the Alpha-Beta link guiding them on the way. While Scott still felt the lingering bond between them that marked Derek as a member of his pack, his chosen family, it wasn’t nearly as strong or intense as before, when Derek had been his Beta.
Some part of Scott mourned the loss, but he didn’t regret his choice to help Derek become an Alpha he had so desperately wanted. Derek deserved the chance to grow into the strong, self-assured man that Scott had known from his previous timeline. The older werewolf needed to learn the duties that came with creating a pack of his own, he needed the challenges and responsibilities to grow and develop, and eventually become one of the strongest Alpha werewolves Scott had ever known.
Even if it hurt Scott to let him go.
Later that night they lay down together on Derek’s bed, feeling slightly awkward at first, as their packbond was not as intense as before. After the initial moment of awkwardness, they relaxed into each other’s embrace, enjoying the small touches, their shared body warmth, soothing and relaxing them into sleep.
***
When Peter regained his consciousness, it was already dark outside. The city lights allowed him to see well enough to know that he was still in Derek’s apartment, unharmed and unbound, and he wondered if it was a sign of trust or lack of thought, or both.
He focused on his senses and he heard two hearts beating calmly, slowly, steadily. He followed the sound and he entered a niche which apparently served as a bedroom, no doors available but away enough from the living area to give some sense of privacy.
He stood at the entrance for a moment, observing the two men sleeping on the bed. There was a closeness there, an intimacy which he had a problem to categorize. They were mostly clothed, so that ruled out the sexual attraction, but they were too close to each other for two heterosexual men, and Alpa werewolves at that. Whatever was between them, it was highly unusual and Peter couldn’t help but feel intrigued.
He wondered for a moment what he should do now. Should he attack them, counting on an element of surprise to give him the advantage needed to defeat two Alphas? Or should he leave quietly, disappearing into the night? But to what purpose, he wondered. He didn’t know what he wanted anymore. All his past decisions had turned out to have undesirable consequences, and had cost him more than he had anticipated.
He had once prided himself on being the clever one, the one with wits and superior intelligence. Now, he wasn’t so sure. If he was being entirely truthful with himself, he felt adrift, with no direction and with nothing to guide him. He was dangerously close to becoming an Omega, and he had felt the beginning of that process already, his werewolf strength waning slowly.
His turmoil must have caused his heart to beat faster, or maybe his breathing was too loud, because he heard both Alphas waking up.
“Peter, you’re awake,” said his nephew, turning on the bedside lamp and Peter rolled his eyes at him stating the obvious. “But why are you just standing there?”
Why, indeed?
“Maybe I just wanted to murder the both of you in your sleep?” Peter mused idly and he heard the other Alpha, Scott, sniggering loudly.
“And that required watching us sleep? Your murdering techniques leave a lot to be desired, you know,” the boy teased, then said: “Either come join us or go back to your sofa, Peter. Some of us still want to get some sleep.”
Wait, join them? Peter thought for a moment he must have misheard the teen, when Derek asked incredulously: “Why on earth would you want him to sleep with us?”
“The more, the merrier, you know? I like having all of my pack close to me,” said Scott simply.
“Did you forget the part where he attacked you?” protested Derek and for once Peter wanted to applaud him for being the rational one. What a day to be alive.
“I took away his Alpha spark in retaliation, so I guess that makes us even. Besides, if he really wanted to attack us he would’ve done so already,” argued Scott. “Now, scoot over, let’s make place for the guy, his hovering there just makes me nervous.”
Wondering idly if they all had just taken a leave from their senses, or if it was a very weird dream and he was asleep still, Peter took off his jacket and his shoes before lying on the bed beside the teenage Alpha with his back to the boy. He felt Scott’s arm circling his waist and he didn’t know whether to protest or to allow himself to enjoy the gesture.
“I’m not a part of your pack, you know,” he said finally. “I don’t know where you get these ridiculous ideas from.”
“Of course you are, you just haven’t realized it yet. But don’t worry, I have a way with people,” the boy assured him, tightening his hold and bringing their bodies closer.
“And that includes hugging them until they stop protesting?” asked Peter, exasperated.
“Damn right it does,” laughed Scott.
“Shut up, the both of you,” grumbled Derek, turning off the light.
In the darkness, Peter allowed himself to smile.
Chapter Text
Waking up sandwiched between the two of his packmates was a novel experience (at least in this timeline), but also one Scott dearly treasured. He couldn't believe that he had actually got Peter to agree to the arrangement. Yesterday, the man had surely not been feeling well if he fell asleep with them willingly, and without putting much of a fight.
Derek yawned and murmured barely audible "G'morning", then went to the kitchen. Scott stifled a laugh, since he knew that until the man got some caffeine into his system, he wasn't going to be of much use. The teen had no idea how that even worked, since the addictive substances weren't supposed to work on werewolves, but apparently Derek and his coffee addiction was an exception to that rule.
Peter awoke as well, as he sat up and was now facing Scott with an unreadable expression on his face.
"Whatever you want to say, just say it," Scott encouraged him, still lying contentedly on his pillow.
"Am I free to leave? Or am I a prisoner now?" the man asked.
"Generally speaking, you can leave."
"I sense a 'but' in that sentence," huffed Peter.
"We have some unfinished business to deal with so I would appreciate it if you stayed in Beacon Hills for now and gave us your contact details," stated Scott.
"That's it?"
"That's it. You're your own person, Peter. I may enjoy having you close, but a caged werewolf is a dangerous one. If you need space, that's fine with me," Scott shrugged, then left the bed and stretched lazily.
"Does Derek agree with you?" asked Peter, raising an eyebrow.
"Derek can hear the both of you just fine," the werewolf in question called out from the kitchen. "Get your asses in here, I'm not going to speak with you across the whole apartment."
"So, Peter, are you staying for breakfast?" asked Scott once they had joined Derek in the kitchen.
"I'm not if Derek's cooking," the man shuddered theaterically.
Scott laughed and assured the man: "Don't worry, I reserve that kind of torture for men much worse than yourself. What would you like, something sweet or savoury?"
"I'll have you know that I don't have a sweet tooth," said Peter with dignity.
"He lies," Derek stage-whispered to Scott. "Make him some sweet waffles or crepes, and he's yours forever."
"Traitor," hissed the man, but his eyes were shining with amusement. Scott needed to admit that he liked that look on him.
The teen was glad that he’d had the forethought to help Derek with grocery shopping while they were renovating the loft. He quickly prepared some waffles, with eggs and bacon for Derek and himself, and sweet ones for Peter, with berries and chocolate sauce.
"Now I know why my nephew keeps you around," the man said once he took a bite.
"I don't know, why do you keep me around, Derek?" Scott teased.
"If you're fishing for compliments, you're going to be disappointed," Derek grumbled, but his hand found Scott's and squeezed it lightly. The teen beamed at him in response.
Once they finished breakfast, Peter said: "As pleasant as the meal was, don't you think that it's time for us to talk about the elephant in the room, so to speak?"
"It is," said Derek and straightened in his chair. "You killed Laura, and I'm never going to forgive you for that. But as Scott said, we don't kill, especially not family. But if you step out of the line just once, we might reconsider that rule."
"My thoughts exactly," confirmed Scott. "Play nice, and we're going to get along just fine."
Peter inspected his nails, seemingly unbothered, but his subdued voice spoke volumes as he said quietly: "I do regret it, you know. I'm sorry that I killed her, and now I wish I didn't."
The man sounded unusually contrite, which Scott had barely seen him, if ever. Something in this timeline must have changed him to make him so apologetic.
"Why? You weren't sorry before," he asked.
Peter was silent for a long moment, before he looked up and gazed straight at Scott. "It's because of you. Call it… a paradigm shift, if you will. What you did to me yesterday was nothing short of an impossible, and yet, it happened. If I've known before that there are means to obtain an Alpha power other than through killing, I'd like to believe that I wouldn't stoop so low as to kill my own niece," he confessed.
They all sobered at the admission and sat there for a long moment in silence, which was the closest they could get to grieving together.
"If that's all, I'll take my leave," said Peter finally, standing up slowly.
"Peter, just… don't be a stranger, will you?" asked Scott. "And I do have some business to speak with you about, so ask Derek for my phone number once you've got your own affairs in order, alright?"
"Now you have me intrigued," admitted Peter, his eyes sparkling again with interest. "I'll let you know once I'm done with getting back on my feet after six years of being comatose. Take care of yourself, boys."
The two Alphas watched with mixed feelings as the man left.
***
Once they were alone, Derek looked at Scott, who was still deep in his thoughts.
Peter's words reminded him that they hadn't really talked about what had happened yesterday evening. What Scott had done with the transfer of the Alpha powers, it defied everything that Derek thought he knew about his own kind. And it made him feel vulnerable, because without solid foundations of the knowledge he had thought he possessed, he couldn't help but feel rootless and unsettled.
Finally, Derek decided that the best way to approach this was to actually ask Scott about the topic.
"How did you do that? How did you know that Alpha spark can be transferred? I've never heard of anything like this," admitted Derek, then added: "If you don't mind me asking, that is. I once promised you that I won't pry into your secrets, and I stand by my word."
Scott looked at him, as if weighing his options, then nodded in agreement.
"There was always something bugging me about the process of becoming an Alpha," he said. "Not counting True Alphas like me, there are only two known ways to become one: killing one, or being an heir of an Alpha who dies through other means. That's how Laura became an Alpha herself after your mother's death, right?"
"Yes, it happened naturally," Derek confirmed.
"But how? How did the spark 'know' who should be its next host? It doesn't have a consciousness or a will of its own. So I suspected for a while now that, just before her death, Talia extracted the Alpha spark from herself and sent it to Laura. If she was able to do that, I wanted to try something similar with Peter, since I didn't want to kill him, but leaving him roaming around as an Alpha was out of the question, either," explained Scott.
Derek wondered why hadn't he ever stopped to think about all of this. Why had he believed in everything that he was taught, just because it was drilled into him since childhood? That wasn't an excuse for thoughtlessness and blindly following everything he'd ever heard. Why hadn't he ever thought to dig deeper into the process of becoming an Alpha?
"Do you think that someone else would be able to replicate that?" he asked, horrified at the thought. It would cause total chaos in the supernatural world if it was true.
"I don't think so, transferring the spark between hosts requires a considerable amount of power, as well as the ability to actually see the spark in other Alphas in the first place," the boy mused. "Were you able to see it in Peter, or in me for that matter?"
Derek shook his head. "Only once you have offered it to me, but not before, and not after the transfer was completed," he admitted.
"I don’t know of any other werewolf having the ability to see the spiritual plane, either. So while it’s possible that there are others like me, I think that it’s rare enough that we shouldn’t worry about this too much. Also, it's not like we're going to advertise the possibility," Scott said and Derek couldn't help but agree. The less people knew about it, the better.
“Anyway, I wanted to talk with you about how we’re going to handle the fact that there will be two separate werewolf packs in Beacon Hills from now on,” Scott changed the subject.
Derek frowned at that. Indeed, having two packs on so small a territory was bound to be difficult to manage.
“I know that I want to enlarge my pack, which means turning more people into werewolves. Do you have any issues with that?” he asked the teen with a hint of a challenge in his voice. He wasn’t going to be dissuaded from this, not by anyone, not even Scott.
“As long as they’re willing and well informed about what they’re getting into, then no, I don’t,” said the younger werewolf, raising his eyebrow at Derek’s defensive pose. “But you need to know that I intend to do the same, just not right now, since I’ve got a couple of other things I need to take care of first. But, I have some people that I already consider my future pack, so consider them off limits,” the boy warned.
Derek growled lowly at his tone, sensing the threat.
“I mean it, Derek. They’re my pack, even though they haven’t been bitten yet,” pressed Scott. “And you know how protective I am when it comes to the people I consider family, including yourself.”
Hearing the possessiveness in Scott’s voice, Derek couldn’t help but feel pleased at the fact that the teenager still considered him a family, even if they were rivals now. But that was fine, they could learn to share. In fact, he realised suddenly, they might need to, if they wished to have a peaceful coexistence between their packs.
“Alright,” he said. “I can understand that, and I will respect your right to create your own pack if you’ll respect mine. I don’t want us to argue and lose time and strength to fight each other, when there are bound to be external threats that we will need to overcome. I'd rather us to be allies, so I’ll have your back if you’ll have mine,” Derek proposed and hoped that his offer wasn't going to be rejected.
He needn't have worried, though.
“Of course,” Scott assured him and gripped his arm in a silent promise. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Chapter Text
Going back home gave Scott the time to think. He had told Derek that he wasn't going to build his pack just now, that there were more important things to do. But he had to ask himself, what was truly important? If he was going to focus on the big events, preventing one crisis after another, wasn't he going to lose something precious in the process? The everyday life, enjoying time with his friends and family?
Was he acting too quickly with this second chance at life? He didn't regret saving Isaac from his abusive father, he knew that he couldn't have let the boy suffer for even a moment longer. Having Peter back was also important, and he was glad that it had happened. But he hadn't really had the chance to enjoy the life that he was given. He needed to breathe, he needed the time to just be himself.
No serious business for today, he decided. He was going to act like a normal teenager for once, do homework, help his mom around the house and watch some movies with Isaac in the evening. So, it was going to be a completely normal, ordinary, boring Saturday, which he was going to enjoy to the fullest.
***
Chris Argent knew that he was threading a very thin line between being loyal to his family and trying to remain true to his own values. When he had called Scott and offered him a wolfsbane-laced bullet, he had thought that he was prepared for it all, the doubts, the uncertainty, the feeling of being divided.
He had been wrong, he wasn't prepared, not in the slightest. He went through Friday as if on autopilot, but he knew that sooner or later he would finally crack, and it won't be pretty.
On Saturday morning, Kate and Allison were chatting happily during breakfast, glad to see each other again. Normally, a family reunion such as this would make him smile with joy at seeing them all together. But after everything that had happened, he couldn't help but feel disgusted at the lies, the falseness of it all.
None of it was real. Had it ever been real in the first place? They were a family of killers, and if Scott's words regarding Kate having been involved in the Hale house fire were true, they were also murderers. And on top of that, all this time they had been lying to Allison, keeping her in the dark in regards to their true occupation, and hiding the existence of supernatural creatures from her. The deceit made him sick to his stomach and he couldn't force himself to eat.
He knew that Victoria had noticed that something was amiss, but was giving him space and didn't try to pry. After eighteen years of being married to one another, they knew each other well enough. Or did they? If it was true that Kate had orchestrated the Hale family deaths, he wondered if Victoria had known about it, and if she had, if she approved of the murders. He didn't know what he would do if that was the case.
They needed to talk, he realized. And they needed to do it quickly, or else the secrets would destroy their family from the inside.
Once Allison went upstairs to her room, he looked at his wife and sister and told them sternly: "We need to talk."
"What's got your knickers in a twist, big brother?" asked Kate with a crooked smile which he had always loved about her. Now, he couldn't stand the sight of it.
"Is this the kind of conversation that Allison shouldn't hear?" his wife asked and he nodded. "Let's go to the garage, then. It'll be safest that way," she decided, taking charge, ever the decisive Argent matriarch.
Once they were in the garage, Chris said: "Kate, I need you to tell Victoria what you did on Thursday night."
His sister looked at him with unconcealed ire. "What I did? Maybe let's start from you going through my things without my permission, and stealing my stuff? What, did you really think I won't notice the whole freakin' box of bullets missing from my bag? You can't be that naive," she hissed.
"I took the bullets from you so that no one innocent gets hurt again," Chris explained, trying to remain calm.
"Innocent? You've got to be kidding me, we're talking about werewolves, not some cute puppies."
"Enough!" Victoria interrupted them. "I can't make heads or tails of your arguing. Chris, start from the beginning."
He crossed his arms across his chest. "Thursday night Kate was attacked by a rabid Alpha. She shot him, but he ran away. There was another werewolf there, a Beta, and he was on the roof, following the escaping Alpha. Kate shot him with a wolfsbane-laced bullet, even though he was neither close to her nor acting aggressive. Once we were home, I took the rest of the bullets from her bag so that she doesn't get the chance to shoot anyone else," he recounted the events of that night.
"That's all?" asked Victoria with disbelief. "You're making a fuss because she shot some werewolf, who was probably in league with that rabid Alpha?"
"Since when our assumption that someone might have bad intentions is suddenly a reason enough to murder them?" he asked coldly, looking at his wife as if he was first seeing her. "Tell me, Victoria, when have we stopped asking questions, and started taking lives? I never thought you would condone such behaviour."
She reddened at the accusation, but stood her ground. "I'm not condoning anything. I'm just putting this into the proper perspective. This was a fight, and Kate needed to make a quick decision whether to shoot or let a werewolf escape. She made it, as she had been trained to do, that's all. Call it collateral damage, if you want, but not a cold-blooded murder."
Kate was nodding to what Victoria was saying, looking every inch a falsely accused victim. It made his blood boil.
"What about the Hale house fire? How would you call it, if not murder of almost a dozen of trapped, defenseless people?" he asked, watching Kate closely. For a split second her mask slipped, revealing shock and fear underneath, and he would have missed it if he wasn't looking specifically for that kind of slip.
Oh, Kate. Chris wanted to crawl into a dark hole and cry at losing her little sister to her own bloodthirstiness.
"I don't know how that is relevant to our discussion," Victoria said, confused and irritated.
"Ask Kate. After all, she was the one who had orchestrated the arson," said Chris. "And Kate, before you start denying, know that there is a witness who will be able to confirm that you were the mastermind behind the whole thing."
"Who?" she asked through gritted teeth.
"It wouldn't be very wise of me to tell you just so that you can make sure that they are silenced forever, would it?" he taunted.
"Kate, is that true?" asked Victoria, her face ashen.
"Even if, what of it? They were werewolves. You should congratulate me on a job well done instead of scolding me like I was an errant child," Kate replied, tilting her chin up arrogantly. "Besides, it was six years ago. Who cares?" she shrugged.
Victoria closed her eyes for a moment, then she exhaled slowly. "Much as I hate to admit, she's right on that, Chris. No matter how… unfortunate, that event is already in the past. We need to protect our family, and for that purpose we need all the tools that we have at our disposal. So, you will give the remaining wolfsbane bullets to me, and I will decide if and when they can be used."
Chris felt sick at hearing his wife referring to a mass murder as an 'unfortunate event'. But, she was still the leader of their group. He needed to comply, or be ready to face the consequences.
"I’ve already taken one bullet from that box," he admitted finally. "I gave it to another werewolf whose packmate was shot by Kate, so that he could heal him."
"You did what?" Victoria whispered harshly, shocked. "Have you taken a leave of your senses? We're werewolf hunters, or have you forgotten that little fact? You're way out of line!"
Hearing that, Chris felt deathly tired, the discussion leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. "I don't see how Kate being a murderer gets called unfortunate, but me saving a life is treated like a criminal offence. If this is what being a werewolf hunter is all about, then I'm not sure I'm so keen on being one, anymore," he said, then went to the door in quick strides. He needed to get away from here, now. He couldn't stand being under the same roof with them for even a moment longer.
Closing the door behind him, he almost walked into Allison, who looked wrecked. Her eyes were blown wide open and glistening with tears, and she held a hand to her mouth as if stifling a cry, a shout, or both.
Realizing that she must have heard a part, if not all of their conversation, he felt a cold shudder running down his spine. This was not how he wanted her to get to know about their family secrets. Not speaking aloud, he put a finger to his own mouth, motioning to her to remain silent, then gestured outside. Taking her arm, he steered her outside the house, and quietly closed the front door behind them.
"I know that you're in shock, Allison, and I promise to answer all of your questions, but if you want to talk, we need to leave, now," he said, putting hands on her shoulders, trying to convey the seriousness and urgency of his request.
She bit her lips, visibly trying to control herself, then nodded. They went to his car, and Chris started to drive, no specific direction in mind, just a pure desire to get away.
"Dad, please tell me it's all just a very morbid joke. That there are no… werewolves out there," Allison pleaded, "that aunt Kate didn't kill anyone."
"I can't tell you that, because I don't want to lie to you, not any longer," he said sadly.
"Prove it, then," she demanded, some of her inner strength shining through. "Show me a werewolf, and I'll believe you."
Chris stopped his car, parking on the side of the road. “I need to call Scott for this, then,” he said and took out his phone.
“Scott? Like, my friend from school Scott?” she asked, confused. “What do you need him for? Wait, how do you have his phone number in the first place?”
“Explaining that would require quite a long conversation, sweetheart, and one better to be conducted with Scott present. Let me call him, first.”
Chris found the boy’s number and called him.
“Hi, Mr Argent."
“Hi Scott, apologies for disturbing you during the weekend, but I need your help with something," started Chris.
“It’s alright, I don’t mind, just tell me what you need.”
Chris felt his throat tightening. He didn’t know why, but the simple, calm acceptance in Scott’s voice, and his readiness to help amazed him to the point where he couldn’t speak for a moment. He didn’t know if it was the stress of the last few days, if he had been too much under the pressure lately, but for once he was glad to have someone to turn to for help.
“Mr Argent, are you still there?” the teen asked, worriedly.
Chris cleared his throat and answered: “Sorry. I just had a conversation with Victoria and Kate about both the recent events and the arson of the Hale house. It didn’t go well, and on top of that, Allison overheard us. So, now I need to explain to her that the werewolves are real and I thought…” he hesitated.
“Would you like to tell her about me? If that’s the case, I’m okay with that,” the boy agreed easily.
“While I’m grateful for that, I don’t think that words alone are going to be enough to convince her,” admitted Chris.
His statement was met with silence, and he wondered for a moment if he was asking for too much.
“You want me to show my werewolf form to her, don’t you?” the boy asked finally.
“I don’t want you to feel like some kind of a specimen on display, and I’m sorry for asking this of you-” he started to apologize, but Scott interrupted him.
“It’s okay. I’ll do it,” the boy agreed. “I’m not ashamed of myself, and telling Allison the truth won’t be a hardship, since I hated hiding it from her in the first place. Do you want to meet at my place?”
“Yes, that would be perfect,” Chris agreed. “And Scott? I want you to know that I really appreciate this.”
“Don’t mention it. You’ve gone above and beyond to help me so it’s only fair for me to start repaying that debt. Take care, and see you soon.”
***
Scott disconnected and wondered why he had ever entertained the thought of having a perfectly normal Saturday, when it was proven time and time again that normal doesn’t ever apply to him. Sighing, he went downstairs to tell his mom and Isaac that they were going to have guests soon, and a serious conversation of the supernatural world on top of that.
Chapter 22
Notes:
This chapter just didn't want to be written until it got enough fluff in it.
Meaning: be prepared for a lot of hugs and Chris Argent being an awesome father and friend.
Chapter Text
When Chris and Allison arrived, Scott was already waiting for them in front of the house and approached them to greet them. However, one look at Allison's father told him enough to know that the man was in bad shape. Maybe it wasn't obvious to a casual onlooker, but to Scott who had known him for years, it was pretty clear. The tense shoulders, the dark circles around his eyes, the tightness around his mouth, everything screamed at him that Chris had had a tough time recently.
So Scott did what he always does when one of his packmates is hurting, and that was drawing Chris to a tight, comforting embrace. He was fully prepared to be rebuffed or for the hug to be awkward and uncomfortable. That was why he was so surprised when the man returned his embrace with a strength that boarded on desperation. Scott didn't mind it, though. This was his mentor, his family, his friend. If Chris needed him, needed this, then Scott was happy to offer him what comfort he could.
After a moment, he let the man go, and asked with compassion: "Bad day?"
"You have no idea," Chris replied hoarsely.
"Hi Allison," Scott greeted the girl, who was looking at both of them with a mixture of shock, amazement and disbelief.
"How's that my father gets a hug and all I get is 'hi'?" she asked incredulously.
"Believe me, before this day is over, you'll either run away screaming, or join a big group hug with all of us," he promised the girl with a wink.
"Who do you mean by 'us'?" she asked with a suspicion.
"Me, my mom and Isaac," Scott explained. "Speaking of Isaac, please don't be put off by his bruises, his situation at home was pretty bad, but he's staying with us now."
"That's why he missed school this week? I'm so sorry, I didn't know. I promise I'll try not to make a fuss about it," she assured him.
"Thanks. Come on in, then," he led them to the house.
***
Allison trailed after Scott, something bugging her, but for a moment she couldn't put a finger on what it was. That is, until her father greeted Isaac and Scott's mother with a casualness that could only come from familiarity, when she finally realised: her father knew all the people in the room, and from the looks of it, he knew them better than she did. And he liked them, if the fact that he finally lost the haunted look that he'd had since this morning was any indication. He seemed more relaxed, now, less tense and not on his guard anymore.
It was a very weird realisation, to know that his father was friendly with people from her school, and not because they were her friends, but because he got to know them on his own. And that hug that he'd shared with Scott earlier, it spoke volumes about the level of closeness and trust that they shared, though how that had happened, she had no idea.
Suddenly, Allison felt very awkward and out of place once she realized that she was the outsider among them. She was the only piece of a puzzle which didn't fit into the picture that they made.
When they settled into the living room, she was already nervous and on edge. The uncomfortable silence that followed didn't help either.
"Don't… don't try to mince your words, or skirt around the subject. I can handle it," she said to Scott, because somehow everyone looked to him to start talking.
The boy sighed and ran his hand through his unruly hair.
"Well, it's going to be quite a long and unbelievable tale, so I want you to promise me that you'll be as open-minded about it as you can, alright?"
"I'll try," she promised.
"That's all I ask," Scott smiled softly at her. "It had all started with a dead girl whose body had been found in the woods…"
Allison listened to the story of two reckless teenagers who had thought that a mysterious death was an adventure rather than a reason for concern. How one of them had been assaulted as a result and found himself changing, morphing into something different, not a monster, but not entirely human either. She listened to the story of finding new friends in the most unexpected of places, of being lost first and then being found.
And throughout the whole tale, she could almost taste the sense of belonging that Scott was emanating, and she couldn't help but feel envious. She had been changing schools on a regular basis, never staying long enough to form friendships that would last. She had always been in this weird state of suspension, never knowing how long she’ll be staying in one town, and avoiding getting to people better since she had known she would be leaving them sooner rather than later.
She wondered absentmindedly what she would do in order to forge bonds as deep as those Scott had with his pack. Would she allow herself to be bitten and turned into a beast? She didn't know.
And speaking of beasts…
"Show me," she demanded. "I heard your story, and I can feel that you spoke the truth, or at least what you believe to be the truth, but I need to see it to believe it."
Hearing that, Scott nodded at her, his visage slowly transforming into something different as the very structure of his bones moved, the face almost unrecognizable once the changes settled, and the image of him with fangs and claws made her shudder instinctively.
"I'm still me, Allison," the boy, no, the werewolf said, as if pleading with her to accept, to understand .
As animalistic as he looked, she couldn't sense any aggression, any threat of violence from him. In another life, she might have been too terrified to really look at him, and rejected him for what he was. But she prided herself on being wise enough to know better than to judge someone by their looks and - all things considered - Scott couldn't be further from being a monster even if he tried.
"Alright, so you're a werewolf and apparently my family had been hunting your species for years now. I just learned that my whole life has been a lie but you know what? I'm glad that I know, now. Thank you for showing me," she said with a calm acceptance and immensely enjoyed seeing the amazed expressions on everyone's faces.
She was done with being the weak, fragile girl in their midst. She was stronger than that. Today she had heard his mother and aunt discussing murder and dismissing it as if it was nothing , and she hated it. She swore to herself that she will be better than that, that she’ll never hurt anyone only because of their race.
***
Once Scott finished his tale on how he had become a werewolf, he excused himself and escaped outside, looking haunted. Chris observed this with worry.
"I'll give him a couple of minutes and if he doesn't come back by then, I'll go talk to him," he said to Melissa.
"Thank you. These supernatural things are still new to me, and I wouldn't even know how to help him. I feel so powerless," the woman admitted, looking distressed at her own inability to help her son.
"I'll be there for him in this regard," Chris promised. "But at the end of the day, he's still a teenager who needs his mother. Don't underestimate your own worth."
Seeing her eyes watering, he patted her hand lightly in comfort. Then, wanting to give her some space, he walked to the sofa on which Allison and Isaac were sitting, and took an empty space between them which had been previously occupied by Scott.
"I know that this is a lot to take in, Allison, and I'm sorry that I didn't tell you all of this before."
"It's okay, dad. I'll be fine," she assured and hugged him, and he kissed the top of her head in response.
He saw Isaac trying, and failing, to hide his emotions at seeing them so close together, his raw envy obvious in the sudden clenching of his jaw. Chris knew that the boy was recovering from the beating his father gave him, but he was well aware that the wounds inside will take much longer to heal.
He knew that Isaac needed familial love, and Chris was glad that Melissa had taken him in, but the boy still needed a father figure to truly recuperate from his ordeal. However, Chris wondered if he was the right person to fill these shoes, since he had already formed a deep bond with Scott. Was he ready to start caring for yet another teenager? But, then again, he was already involved, having taken part in rescuing Isaac from his abusive father.
Decision made, he released Allison from his embrace and turned to the blond boy.
"With all that had happened, I didn't get the chance to really ask about you, Isaac. How are you feeling?"
"I'm good, Mr Argent, thank you for asking," the boy answered with unfailing politeness, and it hurt Chris to hear it. There were still some walls to break down here, it seemed. But that was fine with Chris, he understood that some things shouldn't be forced or rushed.
"It's alright to admit if you're not okay," he told the boy gently. "But if you need some space, that's fine as well."
The boy looked at his hands, avoiding eye contact, then confessed shyly: "I'm not okay, but I think I'm getting there, you know? Having Scott and Mrs McCall around helps a lot."
"I'm glad to hear it," said Chris honestly, and decided not to press furter. "Speaking of Scott, I'm going to see how he's doing, and if he wants to talk"
Finding the young werewolf was easy enough, the teen was sitting on the ground in the backyard, playing with strands of grass absentmindedly, twirling them between his fingers and looking deep in thought.
Chris sat down beside him, content with the silence, letting the teen know that he was there if he wanted to talk but not forcing him to.
"You probably know that I omitted some facts in my story," Scott said finally, still looking at the sky and not at Chris.
"I figured out that much," the man admitted. "Some things just don't add up. For example, you said that you've been a werewolf for barely a few weeks, but your control and your knowledge contradict this."
"I didn't lie, you know, I just didn't tell the whole truth," Scott assured, finally looking at him, and Chris was saddened to hear the defensive tone in his voice.
"I can understand the reasoning behind keeping secrets from the rest, since they're new to this world. But I thought that we have already learned to trust one another. Was I mistaken?" he asked gently, trying to get the teen to open up, but not to push hard enough to cause Scott to retreat further into his shell.
His question was met with silence, the teen avoiding his eyes once more, and he forced himself to be calm and patient.
Finally, Scott started speaking, his voice tired and resigned: "I'm afraid that once I tell you more about myself, that I'll lose your trust, that I'll lose you. But then again, hiding things is not a great basis to build a friendship with, so keeping secrets might cause me to lose you either way. So you see, it's a losing game, no matter what I'll do."
Chris thought for a moment what kind of dark, dangerous secrets Scott was hiding that would cause him this much fear and doubt. Did he kill anyone? Chris didn't think that was the case. He thought he knew the teen well enough to know that he wouldn't hurt anyone, not intentionally, at least.
Also, he marveled at the courage it took Scott to admit that he wanted Chris' friendship and trust, and that he didn't want to lose him. It had been a while since someone outside of his immediate family got this close to him. It was unprecedented, and yet, it had happened so quickly, so naturally, that the man realised that he didn't need to wonder about letting Scott in, since the boy was already there.
So for once he let go of his life-long mistrust and circled the teen's shoulders with his arm, hoping that he wasn't crossing any line with showing his care so openly.
"I hate being kept in the dark, but I care for you more. I'd be honoured if you trusted me with your secrets, but I can wait until you’re ready to share them with me," he said quietly.
Scott looked at him with gratitude so intense that it made Chris realise that he'd made a good decision by not prying further.
"Thank you, Mr Argent. I promise that we'll talk, maybe not today, but soon," the teen promised.
"I can wait," the man assured him. "And Scott? There's no need to be so formal with me. Call me Chris, please," he offered.
The teen's smile that he received in response was nothing but radiant and Chris felt that something raw and rugged in him smoothed and settled down at the sight, like a wound he wasn’t aware of having until it was already healed.
Chapter Text
When they got back inside, Allison was talking on the phone.
"Hi mom, I'm at Scott's, dad gave me a lift. I'm sorry I didn't give you heads up, but I just wanted to meet with my friends," she paused, listening to Victoria. "Yes, dad's still here, do you want to talk with him? Sure, wait a moment."
The girl passed the phone to Chris who went outside to have some privacy. This wasn't a conversation he wanted anyone to witness.
"Hello, Victoria," he greeted her calmly, even if a bit of coldness entered his voice. "I'm alone, so you may speak freely."
"Chris, I know that we don't see eye to eye in regards to… a lot of things, but I'd like to know if you'll be back home soon."
"I don't know," he admitted. "I'm not sure if I can stand being under the same roof with Kate and you, to be honest."
This hit her hard, he knew this by the way her breath hitched suddenly.
"Why? Why is this so important to you that you would abandon our family for some… monsters?" she finally asked with a genuine lack of understanding.
"The very fact that you need to ask tells me more about your morals than anything else. You see, Victoria, we have a very different understanding of what constitutes a monster and in my eyes, Kate is dangerously close to being one. So tell her to leave Beacon Hills, I don't care where she goes as long as she's away from here, and I'll come back," he told her his ultimatum.
"That's harsh, even for you," she stated.
"This is me being considerate," he corrected her. "She has blood on her hands, and her being here sooner or later is going to end in a disaster."
"Very well, you might have a point here. I'll tell her to leave. But don't think you're off the hook either. Helping a werewolf, Chris? What were you thinking?" she asked, incredulously.
"I was helping a friend," he confessed. "And given a chance, I would do it again. You won't get any remorse out of me because of this, Victoria."
"A friend, you say?" she inquired, surprised.
"Yes, someone important to me," he admitted. "Important enough that I don't care if they are a human, a werewolf, or something else entirely."
"This, I can understand. Alright, I'll make sure that Kate is gone in a few hours and you drive Allison back home before dinner."
"That's fine. Thank you," he said genuinely. He knew she could have made it a lot more difficult for him.
"I know that you may think that I'm cold blooded, even cruel, but never doubt that I care about our family, Chris," she said, then disconnected abruptly.
He sighed heavily. He knew that their argument had hurt her. And while he knew that she was in the wrong when it came to werewolves, he had never meant to cause her pain.
He went back inside and gave the phone back to Allison.
"Kate's leaving Beacon Hills and your mom expects us to be home before dinner," he said.
She smiled at him and he was glad that she wasn't forced to choose between her parents. If he can do anything to avoid this, he will.
***
After Chris and Allison left, Scott felt the need to salvage what was left of his "ordinary Saturday" plans, and he asked Isaac if he was up to watching some movies. The boy agreed easily and soon they were bundled together on Scott's bed, the movie playing on his laptop.
After a moment of trying to find a comfortable position, Scott ended up with his arm around Isaac, their bodies pressed close against one another.
"Is this okay?" he asked.
The blond boy only murmured approvingly.
By the time the movie ended, Isaac was fully snuggled against him, his head supported by Scott's chest, one of the boy's hands resting on Scott's stomach. He was already dozing off, his breath calm, his eyelashes fluttering from time to time in response to whatever he was dreaming about.
Scott was mesmerized. Objectively, he knew that the blond boy was good-looking, with his broad chest, well-defined physique, gorgeous blue eyes and perfect complexion. What he hadn't realised before, was that he found Isaac attractive, and not on an impersonal level, either, but with a level of intimacy that surprised him.
He didn't even care for the bruises still marring Isaac's skin, they didn't change the fact how perfectly the boy fit into Scott’s arms. He cared for Isaac so much it almost hurt, and any attraction he felt was far from being indifferent, though considering their mental age difference, it wasn't exactly ethical, either. Scott might have perfected the act of being a teenager, but deep inside he knew that he was anything but.
But Scott was only human, and Isaac was warm and already snuggled close to him, so he couldn't help himself. He ran his fingers through the wavy blond hair, marvelling at their softness, while his other hand caressed the boy's back with the gentlest of touches, a barely-there, featherlight caress, as if he was touching something infinitely precious. Because, he realized, he was.
Suddenly, Isaac blinked, and Scott froze, afraid to move a muscle, not wanting to scare the boy off. For all he knew, Isaac could be entirely straight and not care for anything other than a friendly hug here and there.
"Why did'y stop?" Isaac mumbled, looking at him confusedly.
Almost afraid to breath, Scott resumed his slow caresses, looking at Isaac closely.
"That's alright?" he asked quietly.
"It's nice. I like it," the other boy said sleepily still, sighing contentedly.
Feeling light-headed, Scott kissed Isaac's temple, and buried his nose in the silky blond hair, inhaling deeply. The boy's smell was enticing to his heightened senses, like a mix of salt and caramel, sweet and salty at the same time, and Scott couldn't get enough of it.
"Scott?" Isaac asked hesitantly, sounding more awake now. "What you're doing right now- does it mean that you like me?"
"And if I did, how would that make you feel?" Scott asked in return, looking at him closely. "I don't even know if you're into boys. So if I make you uncomfortable, just tell me, and I'll stop."
"I don't think I'm into boys, but I'm into you," Isaac said hesitantly. "I know it doesn't make any sense…"
"It does, actually. It means that you're attracted to a person, rather than their gender. It's a good thing," Scott assured him, placing soft kisses on Isaac's brow.
"Mmm, this feels really nice," Isaac murmured. "Would you mind if we don't do anything... advanced, though?" he asked self-consciously.
"We won't do anything that you don't want to and feel ready to do," Scott promised, resuming his gentle caresses and making sure that every touch was chaste and comforting, rather than arousing.
Before they fell asleep, Scott placed a gentle kiss on Isaac's mouth, a mere brush of lips, allowing himself to relish in the softness of the boy's mouth. It was too short to be considered a proper kiss, but it felt like a promise of all the kisses that would follow.
***
Peter sat on an old couch in the middle of his burned family house and felt strangely empty. What was he doing here, in this ruin of all places? Coming here, he had hoped to rekindle the burning feeling of hatred, the thirst for blood and vengeance which had driven him before. But it didn't work, and where before he had felt a firestorm raging inside of him, there were only ashes now.
Once, he had been so sure of who he was, of what he wanted to do with his life. Now, he felt bereft of his own identity. The fire which had taken away his family, also squashed his dreams and ambitions. Recently, the remnants of that fire which had driven his thirst for revenge had also been taken away from him, leaving Peter with nothing to fill the void within.
He thought for a moment of the strange, young Alpha which had put out the fire inside his mind. The teen was an anomaly, a contradiction, too strong and knowledgeable for someone so young. And yet, the boy had acted like an overgrown puppy, joyful and eager to smile and laugh, and more affectionate than anyone Peter had ever known.
The mere memory of the night spent with his nephew and that boy, Scott, on the same bed, was enough to make him feel deeply uncomfortable and out of his depth. Peter knew passion and lust, but this? He didn't know how to react to a closeness that wasn't neither familial nor sexual in nature. It was strange, and unfamiliar, and altogether bothersome.
And Peter was already missing that feeling with an intensity that surprised him. Because how could he yearn so deeply for something that wasn't anything special, just simply spending a night with someone who wanted him there, not for sex, but for the simple pleasure of being close?
But he needed to ask himself this: why had he left Derek's apartment, only to come to this ruin of the house that no longer meant anything to him? Why couldn't he have stayed with the two Alphas, even if for a little longer? While Derek was still apprehensive of him - and Peter couldn’t blame him, truly - Scott had asked him not to be a stranger, and for all intents and purposes, had invited him into his life.
And Peter might be tempted enough to take him on that invitation.
Chapter Text
On the Sunday morning Scott awoke to the feeling of feather-light touches on his skin. He blinked sleepily, thinking it had been just his imagination, but then he felt them again, fingertips trailing down his stomach, and after a moment also a warm mouth joining in, soft lips caressing Scott's skin and teasing him lightly. Involuntarily, he moaned quietly, and the touches stopped, mouth and fingers retreating in a hurry.
"Isaac…?" asked Scott, trying to shake off his sleepiness. "What's wrong?"
He blinked, trying to get his eyes to focus, and looked at the blond boy who radiated uneasiness, and looked almost ready to bolt.
"I'm sorry," Isaac apologized hurriedly.
"For touching me or for stopping?" asked Scott with a confused frown.
"I… I'm not sure," the other boy admitted, looking entirely out of his depth.
Scott sighed and thought it was definitely too early to have any kind of heavy conversation.
"This, us, it doesn't have to be so complicated, you know,” he said finally. “The last thing I want is for you to be stressed, or unhappy. So, whatever you want, or don't want, it's fine."
"What if I don't know what I want?" admitted Isaac, hesitantly.
"You were just touching me a moment before, so you must want something . Are you in love with me, or just attracted to me, or maybe do you simply want to... explore?" Scott asked, trying to make it easier for the boy to figure out his feelings.
Isaac blushed but said: "All of it at once, I think? I don't have any experience to compare this to," he admitted.
"I'm the first boy you'd like to be with, right?" asked Scott.
"My first… everything," the boy said, then looked away.
The realization was staggering, there was no other word for it. If Isaac was truly so innocent, if this was his very first try at intimate relationship, Scott needed to tread very carefully.
"Thank you for telling me, for trusting me with this," he said gently.
Isaac looked up at him, surprised. "You don't think that I'm… deficient? That there's something wrong with me?" he asked, looking self-conscious.
"There’s nothing wrong with you and don’t worry, I'm experienced enough for both of us," Scott assured him.
“You are?” asked Isaac, surprised. “I’m sorry, that came out wrongly. I didn’t mean to imply that it wasn’t true.”
“I’ve had my share of sexual encounters with boys and girls alike,” Scott confirmed, thinking of his first chance at life. “So whatever you would like us to do together, I’m fairly sure that I can lead the way, if you wish me to. But, for my own piece of mind, I need you to set up the pace and let me know immediately if I do anything that makes you uncomfortable, alright?"
At hearing that, Isaac relaxed a bit, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. Scott smiled, seeing that.
"You see? I like you and you like me, it's that simple. There's no reason to feel so stressed about it."
"Are we a couple now?" Isaac asked, almost coyly, and Scott stole a kiss from him in response.
"I'd be happy to be your boyfriend for as long as you'll have me."
Having said that, he drew the blond boy close to him, and they both relaxed. It was nice, and comforting, and it just felt right. On a whim, Scott kissed the nape of Isaac's neck and he felt the boy shuddering in response.
"This was a good shiver or a bad one?" he asked, just to be sure.
"The good one, definitely," Isaac said breathlessly and Scott smiled into his neck.
***
Later in the morning while they were downstairs preparing breakfast, at some point Scott kissed Isaac. He did it without thinking, just a chaste, quick touch of their mouths, more instictual than planned, but it caused his mom to double take.
"Boys, do you want to tell me something?" she asked, shocked.
"We're together, mom," Scott announced happily, stifling a giggle at seeing her almost with her jaw open.
"I think I need to stop being surprised by you anymore," she said faintly, then shook herself. "Do I need to have a talk about safe sex with the both of you?"
"Mom, we really don't need to have a talk with you about gay sex," Scott said, horrified. "Besides, I'm fairly sure you wouldn't tell me anything that I don't already know," he said confidently.
She blushed red at the insinuation that her teenage son was already sexually active and she made a quick escape, muttering about her going prematurely grey. Isaac actually snickered at hearing that.
Scott was just happy that the boy felt comfortable enough around his mom that he let himself act natural and not awkwardly polite as he had been just a couple of days before. So he kissed the blond boy again, for good measure.
***
Around lunch Scott received a call from an unknown number and he frowned slightly before picking up.
"Hello, who is this?"
"Hi, it's Peter," he heard the familiar voice.
"Wow, I didn't expect you to call me so quickly. You must be awfully efficient to get your things in order within 24 hours or so," Scott said, genuinely impressed.
"While I'd love nothing better than to brag about my own superiority, I realized that it's Sunday which means that there's nothing to be done until tomorrow," the man admitted, and Scott laughed good-naturedly at hearing that.
"Makes sense. Are you at Derek's?" the teen asked.
"Yes, though he's confused about how to act around me, like he's not sure if he's happy to see me or if he just want to stab me," Peter said, amusement lacing his voice. "Though that might be just because of the full moon tonight."
Scott almost face-palmed himself at the reminder. Full moon, right! How could he have forgotten about it? He must be really turning into a teenager, not only in body, but in mind as well, to be this dim-witted.
"Would you mind giving the phone to Derek for a moment?" he asked Peter, instead.
"No problem, wait a second."
There was a moment of silence, then he heard Derek's grumpy voice: "Hi Scott, what is it?"
"I'm sorry I didn't ask before, I totally forgot that there's a full moon tonight, but do you wish to spend the night together or would you prefer to be alone?" Scott asked.
"You know that you're no longer my Alpha, so there's no need to dote on me so much?" asked Derek with exasperation, but Scott knew him well enough to know that he was secretly pleased at the attention.
"Once a pack, always a pack, remember?" he reminded his former Beta. "So, would you prefer company tonight, or do you want me to give you some space?"
"As much as I appreciate the offer, I think I'd prefer to be alone," Derek replied. "I don't want to argue or snap at you, which is more than likely to happen tonight," the older werewolf explained almost apologetically.
"Short temper on a full moon, got it," said Scott easily. "That's fine, I just wanted you to know that I'm here for you, if you need it. Give the phone back to Peter, please?"
"Sure. And Scott? Thank you."
Once Peter had his phone back, Scott asked: "What about you, Peter, do you have any plans for tonight?"
"Why, are you asking me out?" the man teased.
"I have my lovely boyfriend right next to me, I'll have you know," Scott replied. "I'm not asking you out, I'm offering company to a fellow werewolf on a full-moon night, that's all."
"Well, in that case I might take you up on your offer," the man replied.
"Great! I'll text you back in a moment, I need to clear this with my mom first," Scott said then disconnected.
"Mom, how would you feel about having another werewolf at dinner tonight?"
The look on his mother's face was priceless.
“Another werewolf? And it’s not Derek?” she asked dubiously. “How many werewolves do you know, exactly?”
“Just Derek and Peter,” he assured her, careful not to add ‘at the moment’ since he was planning to add more werewolves into his weird, patchwork-like pack in the future. “And Peter is Derek’s uncle, you know. He’s family.”
“If that’s the case, why isn’t he spending the evening with Derek?” his mom drilled suspiciously.
“Derek’s quite short-tempered on a full-moon and doesn’t want any company,” Scott admitted. “But Peter’s more… cultured and well-mannered, I guess? You know, not counting the fact that he’s a werewolf.”
“Very well,” she relented. “But next time when you want to invite someone, just make sure to ask me earlier, alright? Your absolutely normal, human mom would appreciate being given some notice.”
“Sure, mom. Thanks!” he beamed at her in response, then started texting Peter.
They were all going to get along splendidly, he just knew that.
Notes:
How do you think the evening will go, will it be a fluffy bonding time, or a total disaster? ;)
Chapter 25
Notes:
Today's November 11th, it's a National Independence day here in Poland, but I know that there a lot of countries having a holiday today too, like Remembrance Day in the UK or Veterans Day in the US. So, wherever you are and whatever you're doing, I wish you all the best!
With such a solemn day, this chapter evolved from humorous to serious, but I hope you won't mind.
Chapter Text
When a knock sounded, Scott all but ran to the doors, excited to see Peter again. When he opened the doors, he couldn't help but look him over with appreciation.
"Wow, Peter, you sure clean up nicely!" he said, impressed.
The man apparently had had the chance to get a haircut, as his hair was shorter now, styled fashionably, and his clothes were as stylish and impeccable as Scott had remembered from his first timeline. Also, his burn scars disappeared completely from his face, now.
"I think you would look devilishly handsome with a stubble, though," Scott added as an afterthought.
"I don't know if I should feel flattered, or uncomfortable by receiving such praise from a teenager," Peter mused. "Now, do you wish to admire my good looks for a bit longer, or do you plan on inviting me in anytime soon?"
Scott had the grace to blush.
"Sorry," he apologised quickly. "Come in, please."
He led the man inside and introduced him to his mom and Isaac. Peter, seeing his mother, smiled a little secret smile which made Scott stare at him in bemusement.
"I'm very grateful for the invite, Melissa," Peter said, holding her hand in greeting for a moment too long than what was considered polite between strangers, "I must admit that meeting such a lovely woman as yourself already makes this evening special."
The flirting was so blatant that Scott thought that his mother would laugh at it, but to his surprise she actually blushed.
"Any friend of Scott's is welcome anytime," she answered graciously.
Isaac and Scott looked at each other incredulously, Isaac mouthing 'anytime?' and Scott shrugging helplessly in response.
As his mother and Peter continued to flirt, not minding the two teenagers still present in the room, Scott realised that maybe inviting Peter wasn't his best idea ever, after all.
"Come on, let's get the dinner ready," he murmured to Isaac, who nodded at once, eager to have an excuse to escape the living room.
***
During dinner Isaac kept shooting wary, bordering on unfriendly glances at the newcomer.
"So, you're a werewolf?" he asked, cutting his piece of steak viciously.
"Indeed I am, however since Scott is also one, I don't see how's that relevant, or a novelty," answered Peter calmly, but his eyebrows raised slightly in surprise at being addressed to in such a manner.
"I don't like you. In fact, I don't trust you, so that we're clear on that," said Isaac bluntly, still clutching his steak knife in a tight grip.
"Isaac!" protested Melissa. "This is no way to speak to a guest. Apologise to Peter, now."
"No, let the boy speak his mind. I'm curious what has triggered such an… intense reaction in him," the werewolf said, sounding politely curious, but a glint in his eyes was much less friendly.
"Isaac has great instincts, you know," interjected Scott calmly. "Peter, underneath the well-mannered exterior, you're a predator at heart. We both know it, and I think Isaac is able to sense that, too."
Peter nodded at that. "That's quite an apt description, yes," he admitted. "But if I'm a predator, then you're one as well. So how come he isn't distrustful of you?"
"Though human, Isaac belongs to my pack. He doesn't sense threat from me, only safety," explained Scott. "And since you don't consider yourself a part of my pack, I think Isaac might be feeling a bit… territorial."
"Damn right I do," said Isaac unfriendly. "He doesn't belong here."
"Isaac, look at me, please," asked Scott, and the boy complied, though his jaw was still clenched tightly. "Peter may not consider himself a part my pack, but from where I stand, he already is one. I don't ask you to like him all of a sudden, but please try to tolerate one another, for my sake?"
"Fine. But for the record, I don't think he should be trusted," the blond boy insisted. "There's something… shifty about him, which doesn't sit well with me."
"Though I protest at being included in your pack, I think that you’re right, Scott. It seems that Isaac does have great instincts," said Peter sardonically. "I wonder... have you considered biting him? He would make a splendid werewolf, if I may say so."
Isaac bristled, while Melissa protested loudly.
Scott gritted his teeth hard and forced himself to calm down. He focused on letting go of his anger and disappointment that his packmates were so at odds with each other and focused on simply being glad that they were alive.
He exhaled, and just like that, he felt in control again.
"You know what? Since talking your issues through doesn't seem to be working as expected, I'm going to try something else," he said calmly. "I'm going to show you what a pack means to me, and how all of you fit into it."
"And how, pray tell, are you going to do that?" asked Peter sceptically.
"Everyone, grab the hands of the person next to you," said Scott in response.
"Bonding by holding hands, really?" Peter asked, looking at him with poorly concealed pity.
"Humor me on this, please," said Scott firmly, unrelenting, and finally they complied.
Once they were holding each other's hands in a circle, Scott closed his eyes and allowed his bonds with them to be ignited, filled with love and recognition.
First, his mom, working hard to provide for him singlehandedly after his father bailed on them, trying to give him a childhood he deserved, while neglecting her own dreams and needs. Being there for him, no matter how hard it had become with time. And finally, accepting him without hesitation, no matter that he was a werewolf now, a completely different species.
For all of that, he loved her with a love filled with gratitude that he couldn't ever express with words, as she was his foundation on which he had built his life. She had given him roots that were buried deep into his very soul and no matter where his life would lead him to, he knew that he would never forget where he had come from.
Then, Isaac. The shy, uncertain, sometimes sarcastic boy who had a heart of a lion, even though he didn't know that of himself yet. But Scott knew Isaac's worth, his unyielding strength, the undying loyalty, and the loving heart that was so precious to him he would gladly lay his own life on the line just to save him from all harm.
That's why Scott loved him with a gentleness that knew no bounds, a love that was pure and true, born not from attraction or lust, since those came later and didn't change what he had already felt. Isaac was precious to him, and he would forever treasure his time with him, so he promised himself to love the boy for as long as he was allowed, and eventually let him go if Isaac ever wanted to move on. And Scott would let him go, gladly, if only to see Isaac reaching his full potential as a man.
And finally, Peter. This was the hardest love in his life, yet. His feelings for Peter had a source in deep understanding of the darkness within the man, of all the ugly, wretched, hideous thoughts and deeds the man had ever done or entertained doing. This love was born out of genuine awe and respect for how much the man had endured, how deeply he had been broken, only to come out victorious.
His love for Peter was that of a comrade in arms, in knowing his strengths and weaknesses, and accepting them all. It was in the knowledge that sometimes Peter needed to be saved from himself, and Scott was willing to be the one to do that. This love was hard as steel and bathed in blood, but at the same time, it meant accepting each other's darkness in order to bring forth their inner light, for one couldn't exist without the other.
Scott allowed himself to feel all of this, and ignited his own soul like a torch, a beacon for them to know and understand themselves and each other. They were his pack. There was no place for petty fights or mistrust here, because he needed them, all of them, by his side.
And then, he let go of their hands, and opened his eyes again.
Not surprisingly, his mom and Isaac were crying openly, moved to the core by the feelings they were able to sense through him. Peter, however, as soon as his hands were released, stood up and left the house in quick strides, the front door slamming behind him.
Scott was torn, he had three people to comfort, and for a moment he couldn't make himself to choose.
"Go after him," said Isaac with a hoarse voice. "We'll be fine, but he's in a bad place now. Help him."
Scott kissed Isaac with deep gratitude, whispering a heartfelt "Thank you."
He hugged his mom quickly, then went after Peter, following his trail easily. The full moon was already bright on the night sky, and Scott let his senses lead him to his packmate.
***
Peter ran as if he was followed by the Wild Hunt. His mind was numb, and he allowed himself to act on a pure instinct, which told him to run away, to escape, or else he gets hurt, again.
He didn't know how long he had run or how far he had gotten away. After what seemed like an eternity, he slowed down and looked around. He was alone in a small park, lit dimly by the city lights, and he sat wearily on one of the benches, then hid head in his hands.
What Scott had shown him, it was quite a bittersweet picture. He saw Melissa's and Isaac's hearts reflected in Scott's feelings for them, and they were all beautiful, pure, light. It was Peter who was the jaded and broken one, and a murderer. He was like a disease and he had to be careful not to get close to anyone lest he risked contaminating them.
But he couldn't help himself and felt a tiniest bit of tentative hope. Scott knew who he was, what he had done, and seemed ready to accept him regardless. This had never happened, before. People had always liked his company better if he was pretending to be less than himself. Less manipulative and controlling, his words less cutting, act less savage. But sometimes, he just wanted to be all of that, and relish in it.
Could Scott really accept that, he wondered. Or did the teen Alpha also want to have the weak, mellowed version of Peter around, and not the beast within?
As if on cue, he heard the footsteps coming his way, and saw Scott heading in his direction. For a moment, Peter entertained the thought of running away, again, but then he realised that it was useless. There just was no escaping an Alpha werewolf once he was on a trail.
The teen sat down beside him, not speaking for the longest time, just staring ahead at the desolated park. It was Peter who finally broke the silence.
"I don't belong to your pack," he insisted, not liking a bit how petulant and immature he sounded.
"I know," accepted Scott easily. "You would need to feel it, first, and you're not there, yet."
"Why do you keep insisting that this is only temporary and that you will finally get me to join your merry band of misfits?" he taunted. "Because I can't think of a reason why on earth would I ever want to."
"And I think you already do, but you're fighting your own desire, and it's causing you to lash out," said Scott, finally looking at him. "I know you, Peter Hale, maybe even better than you know yourself."
"You don't know a thing about me, or what I went through," Peter growled, his claws coming forth from his fingers on an instinct.
Scott kept looking at him, unimpressed. "I know enough. Even your mad idea of murdering all supernatural creatures in Beacon Hills. A death pool, really, Peter? What were you thinking?"
Peter blanched at hearing that. "How? How could you know about this? Did you muck around my mind without me knowing, again?" he accused, feeling hurt and betrayed.
"I didn't need to. I have my ways of knowing things, but that is neither here nor there."
Peter longed to have that calm, infuriating expression wiped out of the boy's face. The pleasure of it might even be enough for him to risk attacking an Alpha, and damn the consequences.
"I know what you're thinking right now. Come on, Peter, it's not like you to suppress your violent urges for so long. Give it a go," the boy encouraged him with a gentle smile, which was the last straw.
Peter lunged at him, his claws ready to strike, but Scott quickly stood up and avoided his attack. Peter threw a punch again, only to watch the boy almost coiling around his hand, moving behind him. For a couple of minutes, Peter tried to attack the teen, who avoided the hits almost effortlessly. It was infuriating, hitting Scott was like trying to catch water or take a handle on the air itself.
“Stop avoiding me and fight me!” Peter screamed.
“I am fighting you,” Scott with the same unruffled calmness. “I’m simply showing you the evasive nature of my fighting style, taught to me by my previous mentor. Do you want me to be more aggressive, then?”
“Yes!” growled Peter, almost animalistically.
Quick as lightning, Scott showered him with rapid-fire movements which Peter had no chance to block them all, and then he threw the last mighty punch right into his ribs, which caused Peter to stumble back and fall onto his knees. Clutching his torso, Peter breathed with difficulty, each inhale causing his chest to flare up in pain.
He didn’t know how to feel. He had just been bested, totally and without a shred of doubt, by the younger werewolf, but somehow he wasn’t feeling angry or frustrated anymore, just bruised and deathly tired. He didn’t want to fight anymore, either physically or verbally.
Scott knelt beside him and Peter stiffened.
“I think you’ve just broken my ribs,” he said with difficulty. “And you’re an Alpha, they won’t heal quickly.”
“Let me see,” the boy murmured and unbuttoned Peter’s shirt, revealing naked skin underneath. Then, Scott placed a hand on his chest and Peter felt an intense warmth emanating through his whole torso. The boy wasn’t just taking his pain away, he realised, as he could see no black lines trailing through Scott’s arm. No, this was something different.
“Alpha’s powers are a curious thing, you know,” mused Scott, still sending waves of heat to Peter’s chest. “Have you ever wondered why wounds caused by an Alpha take much longer to heal? It’s all a matter of will power, of intention behind the hit. That's why the wounds caused by an Alpha can heal exactly at the pace that he or she wishes them to... After all, it wouldn’t be very convenient if Alpha hurt his Betas during training by accident, and for them to heal slowly." Scott took his hand away, then said: “Try to breath, now.”
Peter took a tentative breath, expecting a sting of pain again, but he felt nothing.
“That’s… incredible,” he said, amazed. “How did you know it was even possible?”
“I am a True Alpha, and a strong one at that. I don’t think there was ever an Alpha like me before, and I’m not telling you this to brag. This power and knowledge that I have, it doesn’t come without a price, you know.”
Scott stood up and held his hand open. The older werewolf took it and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.
“There’s always a price,” Peter agreed, then confessed quietly: “I don’t feel like fighting anymore.”
“Good,” the boy smiled at him. “I've never wanted to fight with you in the first place."
Chapter 26
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Scott and Peter sat back on the bench, the older werewolf buttoning up his shirt absentmindedly.
"Are you sure that you're alright?" asked Scott worriedly.
"I'm fine, I've had worse. Besides, my chest feels completely healed by now," the man said, rolling his eyes with exasperation at all the fussing. "So, a True Alpha? I sense a story behind it."
"You're the one to blame, really. If you didn't bite me in the woods a couple of weeks ago, I wouldn't have become one," the teen said and Peter looked at him in shock.
"What did you just say?" he asked in a strangled tone. "I may have bitten a teenager, true, but the bite didn't take since I didn't feel any bond forming with the new Beta."
"There was no bond since I immediately evolved into an Alpha. But I did have your bite for a short time, you know, right above my hip bone," Scott said with a small smile, reminiscing. "But it awoke something more than my True Alpha status, it also gave me knowledge and power. I'm more than just a teen wolf, now."
Peter was speechless. Of all the people to bite, he had had to choose a True Alpha material, and not only that, but also the one with the ability to take his own Alpha powers away from him. It was ironic, really, how his own misdeeds had come back to bite him in the ass. He didn't believe in karma, but looking back at everything that had happened, he might be tempted to.
"Is this why you consider me a pack? Because I was the one to bite you?" he asked finally, because that would actually make sense.
But the boy shook his head and said: "It might be one of the many reasons, and the least important."
"Then why?" Peter asked, incredulously.
"Because I know you, and with knowledge comes understanding. And once you understand someone, it's easy to care for them," said Scott with a faraway look on his face, clearly lost in thoughts, and Peter understood with a sudden clarity that the Alpha wasn't talking about him, or at least, not only about him.
"There are more people out there whom you consider a pack even though they aren't, at least not yet, am I right?" he inquired curiously.
The teenager looked at him shrewdly. "You are the clever one, aren't you?" he said with a crooked smile. "Yes, there are more people out there who are or will be close to me. And I need to bring them all together."
And Peter finally understood what truly motivated the young Alpha. If Scott was able to sense his future packmates, if he already felt those bonds, even one-sided, then the need to create a pack must be overwhelming. He couldn't imagine how difficult it must be for Scott to meet the ones he felt bonded to and face their indifference, the lack of emotion or recognition.
Peter's own reluctance to join his pack must have truly stung Scott, he realised. He suddenly felt the need to apologize or to explain himself, but he squashed it ruthlessly.
Scott let him brood for a moment in silence, before he asked: "Are you ready to go back, now?"
"It's as good a time as any, I suppose," Peter answered noncommittally, but he stood up.
They started to walk back to Scott's house in silence, but Peter wasn't complaining. He was still reeling from the fact that he had been the one who bit Scott and he tried to wrap his head around the idea.
When he had been an Alpha, even through the haze of his hatred and thirst for revenge he'd still had the instinct to create a pack of his own. Biting a random teenager in the woods might have been reckless and completely unplanned, but the fact remained that even while being insane, he wished to have a pack, he didn’t want to be a lone wolf.
His musings were interrupted when a car driving past them braked suddenly. His demeanor went from relaxed to uneasy in a second, and he stopped at once, grabbing Scott's arm in a tight grip to stop him as well.
However, when the boy saw the man who got out of the car, he smiled and said: "Relax, Peter, Chris is a friend of mine."
"Scott, what are you doing here at this hour? And with a company, no less?" the stranger asked, looking at Peter with open suspicion.
"Hi Chris, Peter and I were just heading back home. But I guess you might not know each other, so let me introduce you: Peter Hale, Chris Argent."
"A Hale?", "An Argent?!" both men exclaimed at the same time and looked at each other with unconcealed hostility.
"Stop it, the both of you," chided Scott with a displeased frown. "I know that werewolves and hunters usually don't mix well, but may I trust the both of you to be civil around each other?"
Peter looked at him incredulously.
"This man's family murdered mine," he hissed. "Because of the Argents, I spent six years in a near comatose state, trying to heal from burns so severe that everyone expected me to die as well. And you want me to be civil to him ?"
Feeling furious and betrayed, Peter started to leave, ignoring Scott calling after him. When the teen grabbed his arm, he pushed him away, causing the boy to stumble, then he walked away without another word.
***
Chris was looking after the leaving man with mixed feelings. On one hand, the Hales were an old werewolf clan and all hunters were taught from the cradle to be wary of born weres such as them. However, hearing how much his sister had hurt the man was a bitter reminder that she was a murderer, and for years he had been unaware of it while Peter's family had paid the price of that ignorance.
Finally, he gazed at Scott who looked lost and pained, and Chris' heart went out to him. He stepped closer to the boy and laid his hand on his back comfortingly.
"I'm sorry that my presence caused you to lose his trust," he said with an honest regret. "He's important to you, isn't he?"
The boy nodded wordlessly, looking dejected.
"He will come around, or at least I hope so. But if he doesn't, if he's so quick to hate me without giving me a chance to explain myself, then I guess it's better to know that now rather than later," he said, rubbing his eyes tiredly with his hand. "Anyway, Chris, were you looking for me or is it just a chance meeting?"
"I've been assigned a patrol duty since it's a full moon tonight, and there's a rabid Alpha still roaming around the town," the hunter reminded him gently, but Scott actually looked sheepish at hearing that.
"Look, about that… I'm sorry that I didn't tell you before, with everything that has happened lately I just totally forgot about it, but that feral Alpha? He's not a problem anymore. Derek Hale is now the new Alpha in his stead."
Chris was astounded. "And you know this, how?" he asked, an awful suspicion coming to his mind.
"Because I was there when it happened," explained the teen, confirming that suspicion.
The hunter closed his eyes for a moment, trying to control himself. "And you thought that hunting him down and risking your life in the process was such a brilliant idea?" he asked finally with a low voice, trying to rein in his anger. "Why didn't you call me? I would've helped."
"I know that," said Scott gently. "But it was a werewolf business, and something we needed to care of on our own. But it's already done and over with, and I didn't get hurt, so could you please stop being so mad at me?"
"I'm driving you home, now," Chris said sternly. "And I'm going to have a talk with Melissa about grounding you until you promise not to endanger yourself again so recklessly."
"I can't promise you that," said Scott, straightening up and looking less like an errant boy and more like an adult.
Chris was about to drill him about it, when they realised that Peter was walking back in their direction, looking determined, if his clenched jaw and tense shoulders were any indication.
Once he joined them, he crossed his arms over his chest defensively and said: "I'm done with running away, and I will be damned if I do so again. But you have some explaining to do, Scott, and I really hope you have a solid enough reason for allying yourself with a hunter of all people."
"I do, I promise,” said the boy honestly. “And I'm really glad that you came back.”
***
In the end, they went back to the park, as Scott had a feeling that this was going to be a long talk. He was tired of having his friends not being on the same page.
“Peter, you wanted to know about Chris and I, so first you should know that I and his daughter attend the same school,” started Scott. “At some point I noticed that she has a stalker, so I decided to tell her parents about it, so that they could take care of it. Speaking of which,” he added, turning to the hunter, “how did that go, Chris? I never got the chance to ask you about it.”
“Last week I took some pictures of the boy as he was trailing after Allison in a distance, so that we have proof of his stalking in case he deletes the pictures of her in his own camera,” recounted Chris. “On Monday we're going with Victoria to confront his parents.”
“So, the hunter’s daughter has a stalker and you saved the day, as usual,” said Peter to Scott, rolling his eyes. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Then you shouldn't be surprised to hear that it was his first helping-people project, but certainly not the last,” mentioned Chris. “Soon after that I received a call from him saying that his friend needed to be saved from an abusive father and the next thing I knew, I was roped by Scott into joining the rescue team,” the hunter said with a fond smile.
Peter looked thoughtful for a moment, then asked: "It was Isaac, wasn't it?" at Scott's nod, he added: "I noticed his bruises but I didn't bring them up since it was none of my business. So, am I assuming correctly that the mission was successful?"
"Yup. He's now staying with us, and it's wonderful," the teen said happily.
"Was he your boyfriend before that, or is it a new thing?" asked Peter with a teasing glint in his eyes.
"Scott, is there something you wish to tell me?" asked Chris, surprised but happy at the development.
"Yes, we're a couple, but I am not discussing my love life with the two of you, so stop it with all the questions," Scott protested. "And Peter, don't think I didn't notice you flirting with my mom, so back off, or I'll start questioning you."
Peter raised his hands in mock surrender.
"So, first the girl, then Isaac, I sense a pattern here. Is that all, or are there more hurt boys and damsels in distress forever indebted to the two of you?" asked Peter sarcastically, only to be met with serious looks from the other two.
Definitely a pattern, then.
"Derek was shot by a wolfsbane-laced bullet, and Chris helped me to save his life by giving me the same bullet to heal him," confessed Scott. "So you see, I am indebted to Chris, and since he has proved himself time and time again to me, I would trust him with my life."
Peter was astonished. For the werewolf hunter to save a werewolf's life, it was practically unheard of. He looked at the other man and asked: "You helped to save my nephew's life? Why?"
"Because he's Scott's friend, and because it was the right thing to do," answered Chris simply. "And Scott, stop with this being indebted to me nonsense. I helped you and you helped me, it works both ways."
"Say what you want, but I still owe you for Derek," Scott protested stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest.
"You shouldn't argue with your elders, you know," Chris teased him and Scott playfully punched him on the arm in response.
While Peter was observing them, he saw their closeness, friendship and obvious care which they had for each other, and couldn't help but feel envious at the sight. How Scott was doing this, finding a way to people's hearts as if it was nothing? Argent was a werewolf hunter born and bred for shouting out loud, and yet here he was, sharing a close bond with a young Alpha wolf of all people.
Scott was dangerous, Peter realized suddenly, and not only because of the obvious reasons, like his unparalleled power and knowledge. No, he was also dangerous because of how strongly he bound people to himself, how easily he inspired their trust and loyalty. With all of these traits combined, he might soon become a force to be reckoned with, a true leader with an army of friends and allies to have his back.
Knowing that, there was no way in hell that Peter was going to stand on the sidelines. He was an opportunist at heart, and if he wasn't going to be an Alpha himself, he fully intended to join the strongest, most powerful Alpha he could find. Previously, he had thought that Scott was too soft and kind to meet that requirement. Now, he wasn't so sure anymore, since the boy wielded his care and kindness like a weapon. Unusual one, that's for sure, but a weapon nonetheless.
And Peter finally started to realize that joining Scott's pack might not be such a bad idea, after all.
Notes:
Peter meets Chris, finally!
Scott's pack is slowly forming, even though they are not quite there yet, it's finally happening. Yay!
Chapter Text
When Scott stifled a yawn, Chris decided that they had discussed enough for one day.
"Come on, Scott, I think it's high time for you to go home, I'll give you a lift," he said, patting the teen on the knee.
The boy blinked at him, sleepily. "That might not be a bad idea. But I still owe you an explanation on the whole Alpha mess," he said, looking worried.
"That can wait," Chris assured him. "For now it's enough for me to know that he's no longer a danger. With the frequency of our meetings lately, I'm sure that we'll have a chance to talk later in the week, alright?"
The teen nodded and stood up, stretching lazily.
"Peter, do you want me to give you a lift somewhere, too?" asked Chris, and he marveled at how easy it was for him to offer.
He didn't know when it had happened, but he started to see people rather than werewolves or humans, and it made all the difference. He was talking to Peter and Scott, not some half-human, half-animal breed. He couldn't say that he missed his old mindset, though. He only wished that his wife felt the same.
He stopped his musings and looked at the older werewolf expectantly, who looked undecided. Didn't he want Chris to know where he lived, or was it something else that made Peter hesitate to accept his offer?
"Actually, Peter, would you like to come to my place? I'm sure that mom won't mind," Scott offered.
"Isaac might," replied Peter with a wry smile. "That boy looked highly dangerous with a steak knife in hand. Are you sure he won't try to stab me to death in my sleep?"
Scott chuckled. "I'm going to make him occupied during the night, so you needn't worry," he teased.
Peter made a face at that. "Fine, but spare me the details of your nightly activities, please."
"Isaac actually threatened you?" Chris asked him disbelievingly as they were heading back to his car. "That boy is so shy and polite, what did you do to set him off like that?"
"Nothing, he just took a look at me and decided that he didn't like me," protested Peter, acting hurt at the accusation, though a small smirk appeared on his face. " And he had the balls to say it straight to my face."
Chris laughed out loud at that. "I would pay handsome money to be a fly on that wall."
***
Seeing Peter and Chris getting along made Scott want to hug them both in happiness, but he refrained from doing that. He knew that he needed to work on curbing his hugging people tendencies, as he was more affectionate than most people considered normal. He didn't want to make them uncomfortable, after all.
While they were driving, a sudden thought came to his mind.
"Chris, would you mind if I went with you and your wife to Matt's parents, to act as a witness?" he asked.
"I sense that there's more behind that request than just that," Chris answered with his eyebrow raised.
"You could use my werewolf senses there, you know. I can smell his emotions and hear his heartbeat to know if he's lying," offered Scott. "And I have a theory that something in his past might have caused him to be so disturbed, and I want to try to make him admit to it. If his parents see the truth behind his mask, they will be easier to convince that he needs some serious help."
"That's not a bad idea, actually," admitted Chris after a moment of thinking about the offer. "What do you think had happened in his past, though?"
"Matt had suddenly stopped talking to Isaac after one party at the Laheys'. I have a gut feeling that something had happened then, since boys their age usually don't cut ties so definitely without a reason."
"That sounds plausible. Alright, I'll talk to Victoria. If she agrees, we'll drop by after your classes to take you with us," the hunter agreed.
Once they arrived, Scott thanked Chris for a ride but the man just shooed him away. "Go home, Scott, and say hi to Isaac and Melissa from me," he said, then turned to the other werewolf. "It was nice meeting you, Peter."
"I've never thought that I would say this to a hunter, and an Argent no less, but the pleasure was all mine. Or, a half of it, at least," Peter corrected himself with a smirk.
They got out of the car and watched as Chris drove away.
"You have an uncanny ability of befriending the most unexpected people," said Peter, seemingly out of the blue.
"Yourself included?" asked Scott with a wry smile.
"Don't push it, kid."
Scott rolled his eyes at that.
Once they were inside, they saw that Melissa had dozed off on a sofa, with Isaac curled into a ball beside her. The boy must have been sleeping lightly as he woke up the moment they came in.
"That must have been one hell of a talk," he murmured standing up, trying not to wake up the sleeping woman.
"We met Mr Argent on our way home and talked with him as well. He says hi, by the way," explained Scott quietly.
Isaac visibly brightened at that, and Scott gave him a quick peck on the cheek.
"Come on, let's go to sleep. Peter's staying for the night, is that going to be a problem?" he asked the blond boy.
Isaac looked at Peter who met his gaze calmly, unperturbed.
"No, I think we're good," said Isaac finally.
"Perfect! I'll sleep in your room and Peter can have mine."
Scott busied himself with getting fresh sheets, towels and a toothbrush for their guest, happy to have his packmate close. He missed Derek, though, and he promised himself to let his former Beta know that he was welcome anytime.
***
Later that night, when Peter was settled in Scott's room, the two boys cuddled on Isaac's bed.
"What you showed me earlier, your feelings for me…" Isaac started, hesitantly. "Do you really see me that way? Because I don't think I'm strong, or brave."
"Maybe not at this moment, no, but I know that you have it in you," said Scott, running his fingers through the boy’s blond curls, the steady, repetetive movements soothing them both.
"Then why am I scared of going back to school with my bruises visible to everyone? I know that I can't miss more classes, but I just..." Isaac’s voice trembled as he spoke. "I can't stand the thought that all people will see me that way and they will judge me, or worse, pity me because of it."
Scott didn't know what to say, how to assure Isaac that he didn't have anything to fear, since he knew that his concerns were not unfounded. The boy's bruises were bound to attract stares and unwanted attention, and there would probably be some rumours circulating as well. If only they had the means to hide or get rid of the bruises, Isaac wouldn't have to worry about going back to school.
Suddenly, he remembered how he had healed Peter earlier that evening, and he wondered. If he was to hurt Isaac, even superficially, and then wish him to heal focusing on his Alpha power, would it even work on a non-werewolf? And even if, would Isaac's body heal only the new wound, or the old bruises as well?
"I think I might have an idea how to heal your bruises, but I don't know if it will work," he said finally, not wanting to get Isaac's hopes up.
"Really? How?" the boy perked up at once.
"It's a werewolf thing. Some of us can wish for the wounds caused by ourselves to either heal slower or faster than normal. I don't know if this works on a human, though, and I would need to inflict a small wound on you to verify it," explained Scott. Isaac stiffened at hearing that, so he added gently: "Don't feel pressured to agree to it. If you're uncomfortable with the idea, just let me know and I'll drop it. The last thing I want is for you to be weary of me."
"No, it's… It's fine. I trust you. If this is the only way to know if it works or not, let's try it," Isaac said, clenching his jaw.
"Okay, sit up and take off your t-shirt," said Scott and the other boy complied quickly.
Isaac's bruises were no longer viciously red, but changed shade to more purple and blue. In a couple of days they would become green in colour, but they were not quite at that healing stage, yet.
"Let's try with your arm," Scott decided. "I'm going to insert my claws into it, deep enough to draw blood, and try to wish for the wound to heal. If it doesn't work, then we'll stop. Alright?"
Isaac nodded, looking with a slight trepidation as Scott allowed his hands to change, sharp claws replacing the blunt human nails. Then he put them on Isaac's arm and tightened the hold, breaking the bruised skin easily. Isaac hissed from the pain, but didn't fight him, and Scott pleaded silently for the wounds to heal. He hated causing pain to anyone, much less someone he loved, but if it accelerated the healing process, it will be worth it.
Slowly, ever so slowly, the pierced skin began to patch itself, the wounds from his claws healing at an agonizingly slow speed. But it didn't matter how long it took, since both the new wounds and old bruises around it started to disappear from Isaac's skin.
"It worked!" exclaimed Isaac joyfully. "Could you repeat this for my whole upper body?"
"Are you fine with that? This must’ve hurt you,” asked Scott worriedly.
He needn’t have worried as the other boy just shrugged. “Scott, I’ll be fine. I can handle some physical pain, when it’s not caused with an intent to hurt, if you know what I mean.”
Scott nodded with understanding, then resumed the healing process, first clawing at Isaac’s skin, then focusing on having it healed. By the time they were done, both boys were weary and exhausted, but Isaac’s skin was finally free from all the bruises, and it was the only thing that mattered.
Once done, Scott hugged the other boy tightly and whispered into his ear: “And you thought that you’re not strong or brave enough? Well, think again. You’re absolutely freaking awesome.”
Isaac blushed at the compliment, but his shoulders straightened, a newfound confidence showing in his posture, and Scott couldn’t be more proud of him than he was now.
Chapter 28
Notes:
I am writing this story for a full month now and I realised that we're moving at a glacial pace with the plot, but I hope you don't mind. This story is going be long, like, extremely long, because I want to explore all the relationships and feelings between the characters.
So, happy monthly anniversary!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Peter woke up unusually relaxed and well rested. For a moment he couldn't pinpoint what was the reason for it, when he realized that it was this place, this room, that felt so calming to the wolf side of him. Even though he had been given fresh sheets, everything around him smelt like Scott, and he couldn't help but feel safe and comfortable here.
It would be all perfectly normal if he felt so about an older, experienced Alpha, but to be so at ease because of a teenager of all people… It was jarring, and humiliating. Or at least, his mind told him that he should feel that way, but his body refused to be anything but content and relaxed.
He was being betrayed by his own wolf instincts, it seemed.
Torn between frustration and amusement at his own expense, he decided to go to the bathroom before anyone else was up. Even with his heightened senses he could only hear deep, relaxed breaths which told him that everyone was still sound asleep yet. Good. He quite enjoyed long showers in the morning and he fully intended to indulge himself, today.
Grabbing a towel, he went to the bathroom. Yesterday he had been pleasantly surprised that while not being luxurious by any stretch of imagination, the bath was equipped with both a tub and a shower, which was quite nice once he thought about it. While being mostly a shower person, he did enjoy long soaks after a particular stressful or tiring day.
But today he had only a shower in mind, first warm, the slightly colder to wake up properly. After six years of living in a nursing home and being forced to be taken care of by disinterested, callous strangers, he felt that he had the right to enjoy simple pleasures such as these.
After what must have been fifteen, if not twenty minutes, he walked out of the shower feeling more like himself then he'd had in quite a long time. He touched the slight stubble on his chin and wondered if he should shave, but then he recalled Scott's words that he would handsome with a beard and decided not to. What could he say, he was vain like that.
Wearing only his boxers and drying his hair with a towel, he walked out of the bathroom, only to stop in his tracks at seeing Melissa in the hallway. The woman was still in her pajamas and a short sleep robe which did nothing to hide her nicely shaped legs. Peter looked at her with appreciation, a smile instantly appearing on his lips.
"Hello, Melissa, I hope I didn't hog the bathroom for too long."
"What is with you Hale men walking around with your chests bare?" she asked in reply, folding her arms and raising an eyebrow incredulously.
Which made him wonder how many bare chests she'd had a chance to ogle recently. Wait, she had said 'Hale men'...
"You saw Derek naked?" he asked, not knowing whether to feel surprised or affronted. Or jealous.
"With a towel around his hips, but otherwise, yes" she said, rolling her eyes at his not so subtle attempt to grill her about it. "You would need to do much more than that for me to be impressed."
He didn't know who was more surprised by the unexpected innuendo, Peter or she, but judging by her flushed cheeks, he would say both. But he was not the one to back down from a challenge.
"I think I might be tempted to take that as an offer to try and prove you wrong," he said, coming closer to her with a confident but not everbearing swagger. "I have much more to offer than my young nephew, after all."
He didn't get to say or do anything else, as the door to Isaac's room opened and Scott peered out, looking disgruntled at the sight of them.
"For God's sake, stop flirting so shamelessly where I can hear you," he moaned, looking pained. "And Peter, while I'm happy that you feel at home with us, put on your shirt, please. I want my mom to be able focus on breakfast and not on how good you look."
"At least you admit it," said Peter with an exaggerated sigh, then walked back to his - or rather Scott's - room, feeling strangely pleased with himself.
Flirting with Melissa, the friendly banter with Scott, it all came so easily to him. And he realized that the young Alpha did have a point by saying that Peter felt like home with them, because - will wonders never cease - he realized that was actually true.
***
Shaking his head, Scott went back to bed and started to place soft kisses on his boyfriend's gloriously naked, delicious chest. He was happy that after the healing last night Isaac didn't bother with putting on his t-shirt, and now Scott could reap the benefits.
"Come on, love, it's time to wake up and face the day."
Isaac sighed sleepily and whined: "Do we have to?"
"I'm going to pretend that I didn't hear that," murmured the young werewolf, curling his tongue into the boy's belly button and causing him to groan almost obscenely.
"After the day is over I'm going to finally show you how much I appreciate your gorgeous body, but right now we need to get up," said Scott, straightening up.
"Fine, I'm up, you won," said Isaac petulantly, sitting up on the bed. "But you're an awful tease, you know."
"Oh, I know it," said Scott brightly, not repentant in the least. "But I'm going to make it up to you tonight."
"You promise?" the boy asked coyly, looking at him through his lashes, and it was Scott’s time to groan, now.
"Who’s the tease, now?”
***
After they showered, changed into fresh clothes and went downstairs, Isaac's lack of bruises attracted immediate attention.
"How did that happen?" asked Melissa, shocked.
"Werewolf trick," Scott answered with no small amount of satisfaction. "It appears that I'm better at healing than I previously realized."
"We can see that," said Peter wryly. "I didn't know you could trigger an accelerated healing in a human, though," he added pensively.
"It wasn't anywhere near the speed of a werewolf regeneration", Scott admitted, grabbing a toast. "It took me a better part of an hour to have it all healed."
"Still, impressive. I wonder if the fact that you consider Isaac a part of your pack might have had an impact, here," the older werewolf theorized, putting a generous amount of jam on his own toast and Scott almost made a face at how sweet it must be.
"Your guess is as good as mine," he shrugged in response. "I'm not going to test it on some unsuspecting strangers, though, so we won't be able to prove or disprove it anytime soon."
"Pity."
Scott rolled his eyes at the older werewolf, because seriously. Not knowing all the facts had always been a sore spot for Peter, and apparently this new timeline hadn't changed him a bit.
"Now, as much as I enjoyed our time together, I must bid you all goodbye and take care of my own affairs," Peter said after a moment, standing up.
"It was our pleasure to have you," Scott's mom assured him.
"I'm sure Isaac wouldn't agree to that statement," Peter replied with a wry smile.
"You're not my favourite man on the planet, true, but Scott likes you, so that's enough for me," Isaac said simply. "If you hurt him, though, I'll make sure to put my knife to a good use," he added for a good measure.
"Isaac!" Melissa exclaimed, scandalized, but Peter only laughed it off.
"I like your attitude, kid. Keep it up, and you'll be fine."
"I'll walk you to the door," offered Scott. Once they were in the hall, he asked: "You're not going to disappear for too long, are you?"
"Would you miss me if I did?" asked Peter teasingly, but Scott grabbed his arm to stop him.
"You know that I would," he answered honestly, not a trace of amusement lacing his tone.
Peter looked at him seriously. "Scott, you don't even know me all that much," he protested.
"Look, Peter, what I showed you the other night, my feelings for you? They're all true," said the young Alpha. "You don't need to reciprocate them, but I want you to acknowledge that I care for you, and that I want you to be a part of my pack, or my extended family, however would you like to call it. So, please promise me that you'll keep in touch?" he asked tentatively, hopefully.
Peter looked conflicted for a moment, as if fighting his own demons, then circled him with his arm, pulling him close. Scott returned the embrace with relish, happy that the man felt comfortable with him enough to initiate a hug. For a moment he let himself be comforted by their closeness and shared warmth, feeling ecstatic at having his packmate so close to him.
"My inner wolf likes being close to you," the man admitted once they parted. "Which, considering the fact that you took away my Alpha powers, should be an exact opposite. But for some reason he enjoys being near you, so don't worry, I'll keep in touch," he promised.
"I'm glad," the teen said genuinely, opening the door. "Take care of yourself."
"You too, Scott."
The boy looked after him for a moment, feeling his bond with the man settling to a gentle hum, not yet a fully formed pack bond, but stronger than before. He rubbed his chest absentmindedly, allowing himself to just enjoy the feeling for a moment, then closed the door.
***
Seeing as it was late in the morning already, Scott’s mom offered to drive them both to school and the boys agreed readily.
“Isaac, are you sure you’re feeling well?” she asked the boy while driving.
“Yes, Mrs McCall,” Isaac confirmed.
“Scott, did you give Isaac your notes from the classes that he missed?”
“Yes, I did,” he assured her, rolling eyes at her fussing. “Mom, stop worrying so much. We'll be fine.”
“I’m a mother. Worrying is in my job description,” she deadpanned while parking the car.
He kissed her on the cheek in goodbye and both boys got out of the car, then watched her driving away.
“Isaac, I never got to ask you if you want us to be open with being together, or do you wish it to be, you know, a private affair,” Scott said awkwardly, trying to gauge the other teen’s feelings about the matter. “Because I’m totally fine with both scenarios. So, we’ll do whatever you’re comfortable with.”
Isaac looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. “You really don’t mind that the whole school will know that you like boys?” he asked finally.
“I don’t care what strangers would think about us, but I know that our friends will accept us regardless,” said Scott, unconcerned.
“Then I don’t want to hide either. In fact, I was thinking about putting on a show,” Isaac said with a wicked gleam in his eyes.
“I knew that I liked you for a reason,” stated Scott, impressed.
If his boyfriend wanted to flaunt him in front of the whole school, he was certainly not going to complain.
Notes:
Next: School time, and maybe we'll finally get to meet our favourite stalker, Matt!
Chapter 29
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Allison was sitting with Lydia, Jackson and Danny during lunch break when she saw Isaac heading in Scott's direction. She ogled the blond boy, surprised at the lack of bruises on his face and body. Must be a werewolf thing, she realised. But Isaac wasn't a werewolf, was he? She wasn't sure. She didn't know what she would do if he was, as having both boys that she found attractive so completely out of her reach would be rather depressing.
She had had a long talk with his dad over the weekend. No dating werewolves, he had said with an unusually grave look on his face. Friendship, yes, romance - no. Oh, she knew that he was only worried for her and had her best interests in mind. But that didn't mean she couldn't feel hurt at the unfair and discriminating rule. Why having a werewolf boyfriend was such a bad idea according to her dad, at least, she didn’t know. He had only said that she was forbidden to.
She hated being told what to do with her life. It wasn't enough that she had been forced to move from town to town for almost all her life due to their parents' job - which she now knew was not only dealing weapons but also being werewolf hunters - but now they had also started to make decisions about her love life, and she hated it with a passion. She was almost seventeen, surely she was adult enough to decide on her own whom she could date?
Her rebellious thoughts were suddenly stopped to a halt as Isaac grabbed Scott's t-shirt and drew the other teen close only to give him a long, searing kiss. There was nothing shy or uncertain about it, the boys kissed with a passion, deep and open-mouthed, as if making a statement for the whole school to see.
And people started to notice, she realized once she recovered from her shock enough to look around. Not everyone, no, but here and there the people were looking at the kissing teens, pointing, whispering, many of them giggling, some looking disgruntled, and some simply being pensieve.
"Wow, this is one hell of a coming out," she heard Danny's impressed words. "Too bad they seem to have only eyes for each other. I wouldn't mind making out with either of them."
"Don't be ridiculous," Jackson scoffed. "What they're doing, it's obscene."
"Why?" asked Danny, frowning. "Because they're gay? They are doing nothing more than I see heterosexual pairs doing in the hallways all the time."
Jackson didn't have any comeback to that and just gritted his teeth in response, his jaw clenched.
Allison looked back at the two boys who finally stopped kissing and sat at one of the tables, Scott's left arm curled around Isaac in a loose grip, Stiles sitting in front of them and looking as shocked as the rest of the school.
She didn't know how to feel about this new development. On one hand, she was disappointed, because how was it fair that both boys that she found attractive turned out to be together? She ignored a small pang of jealousy at that, because it was ridiculous, since she didn't have any right to be jealous, of either of them.
On the other hand, seeing them so unashamedly intimate with one another made her also strangely hot and she moved in her seat, trying to ignore her own arousal.
"I'm going to congratulate them on getting together," she announced suddenly, standing up. "Lydia, do you want to come with me?"
Lydia looked up, pleasantly surprised at the idea, but Jackson gripped her arm in a vice-like grip.
"Don't you dare," he hissed. "This is a farce, a travesty, and we're not congratulating them on that, for God's sake."
Lydia looked furious at that. "Let me go, Jackson Whittemore, and do not presume that you can tell me what I can and can't do," she said lowly, her anger almost palpable.
Once the teen released her arm, she stood up and walked up to Allison, both girls going to Scott's table without looking back at Jackson even once.
***
Even though he was suspecting it, Scott was surprised by the passion of Isaac's kiss. Not that he was complaining, far from it. He returned the kiss enthusiastically, deepening it and caressing Isaac's tongue with his own, tasting, claiming. After a moment of intense kissing he felt heat slowly pooling in his groin, so he let go, not wanting to get a hard on in the school of all places.
"Guys, you could have warned me," lamented Stiles once the boys parted.
"Now where would be the fun in that?" asked Isaac, smirking, though his cheeks were pink and he sounded slightly breathless.
"And to think that I actually started to like you," said Stiles, pouting. "Every good thing that I ever said about you? I take it all back."
Scott rolled his eyes at the both of them. "This is all quite new, we only got together maybe two, three days ago?" he explained to Stiles.
"And you didn't think to text or call me?" the boy asked, not joking anymore and sounding genuinely hurt.
Scott wanted to give him some excuse when he realised that he had none. He had forgotten about Stiles, and that was inexcusable. They were growing apart, and he didn't like it.
"I know, and I'm sorry," he said, contrite. "I've been a shitty friend recently but I'm going to try to do better, I promise."
Stiles' gaze turned gentle as he said: "Hey, it's alright. I know that you had some hard time recently. But next time, try to include me in whatever is going on with you, okay?"
"I will," Scott promised. "You won't believe how much happened over the last week or so, it's crazy. And it's not over yet, you recall that I was working with Allison's dad on something? It's getting resolved today, or at least I hope so, and then I'll be able to tell you and Isaac all about it."
Stiles didn't have a chance to reply, as Allison and Lydia came to their table.
"Hi guys," greeted Allison.
"That was quite a kiss that you just had, boys," said Lydia suggestively. "Are you together, or was that just a one-time thing?"
Scott looked at Isaac and they said "we're together" almost in unison.
"That's fantastic, congratulations!" said Allison.
"Shame," Lydia pouted.
"Why? The last time I checked you were with Jackson," Isaac asked Lydia, confused.
"We were, but if we are going to be together still, that remains to be seen," Lydia admitted, trying and failing to hide her hurt feelings.
"Come on, girls, sit with us," Scott offered, making some place beside him on the bench, which Lydia gladly took, while Allison sat down next to Stiles. "Is Jackson being a jerk?" he asked Lydia once they were all settled.
"You mean more than usual?" huffed Stiles.
"Stiles! Don't be insensitive," Allison chided, looking at her best friend worriedly.
"He is but I don't want to talk about it," Lydia stated defensively.
"That's fine," accepted Scott easily. "But if he ever hurts you, let us know and we will teach him that this is no way to treat a girl, especially a special one such as you."
This actually made Lydia blush, which was shocking, since Lydia Martin doesn't blush, of all things.
"Do you want to tell me something, Scott?" Isaac asked, trying to look indifferent.
Scott looked Isaac in the eye and pulled him to a gentle kiss, trying to sooth any jealousy the boy might have felt.
"I might be bisexual, but I only have my eyes for you," he said once they parted, and it was Isaac's turn to blush.
"Please, don't kiss when I can see you," moaned Stiles. "My poor, poor eyes."
It made everyone snicker, and just like that, the tension was broken.
"I think it's hot, the two of you being a couple," said Allison suddenly, and everyone looked at her, surprised. "What, it's true! You're both good looking, so seeing you two together is twice as hot, you know," she defended herself.
"Who are you and what did you do to our shy, timid Allison?" asked Lydia disbelievingly.
"I left her at home today," the girl replied with a smirk, clearly enjoying showing the unashamed, confident side of her for once.
***
After the classes, Scott hugged Isaac and said goodbye to his friends. Once they all parted, he went outside to meet with the Argents, since Chris had texted him earlier that day that Victoria agreed to have Scott going with them to meet the Daehlers. He also made sure to double check that Allison’s car was no longer in the parking, almost huffing at all the subterfuge, but respecting the fact that Chris and Victoria wanted to tell her about the whole mess once it’s been already dealt with.
“Hi Mr Argent, Mrs Argent,” he greeted them.
“Hi Scott,” said Chris with a welcoming smile.
“Scott, I have agreed to have you accompany us today since it was you that informed us about the issue in the first place, but I need you to be open with us about what your intentions are,” said Victoria sternly.
Scott almost gulped, having her no-nonsense look directed at him.
“I want to provoke Matt to a point when he shows his true face,” he said bluntly. “I don’t trust him, I sense a threat from him but he masks himself well. I want to crack that mask and see what’s beneath it, because I don’t think that the fact that he’s been taking Allison’s pictures is going to be enough for his parents to take any drastic measures to make him stop.”
The woman looked pensive at that.
“It’s a good but also highly risky plan. If it fails, you will come off as the aggressive one rather than he,” she warned. “You would need to tread very carefully.”
“If my plan fails, you can act angry and order me to leave and say something about me being a typical teenager,” he offered. “Because if I act rashly or aggressively, it could be easier explained than if you as adults would try to do the same. If the conversation goes wrong, you can always make me the scapegoat, I really won’t mind. I only want Allison to be safe from Matt, for good.”
Victoria looked impressed at hearing that. “Very well,” she said. “Let’s get this done.”
Notes:
There's going to be a lot of angst in the next chapter or two, just giving you folks a fair warning.
Chapter Text
At first the Daehlers were confused by their visit, but once Chris explained that Scott goes to the same school as Matt and that they wanted to talk about their son, they were invited in without any problems.
“Is Matt at home? I think that this discussion would be best conducted in his presence. We don’t want to talk behind his back, after all,” said Victoria with a deceptively mild smile.
“Yes, he is. I’ll go fetch him,” said Mrs Daehler, going upstairs.
“So, Scott, you’re the same year as our Matt?” asked Mr Daehler after a moment of silence.
“Yes, sir. I’m in my sophomore year, and playing on the school lacrosse team.”
“Good, good. I know that Matt recently got into the team during the last tryouts, but there haven't been any training sessions yet?” the man inquired.
“No, sir, not yet. I’m looking forward to them, though,” answered Scott, glad to see Matt going down the stairs and being saved from the further small talk. He had never been good at it, anyway.
“What’s going on, mom, dad?” asked Matt, surprised to see Scott and two unfamiliar adults sitting in the living room.
“Matt, dear, let’s sit down,” his mother told him.
Once they were all seated, Christ started: “Recently Scott came to us with his concerns regarding our daughter, Allison. It seems that your son, Matt, has been following her and taking pictures of her without her knowledge or consent. We thought it would be best if we addressed the matter with you directly.”
“Allison? That sweet brunette that Matt has pictures of in his room? He said that she was his girlfriend," said Mrs Daehler, looking confused.
"My daughter is probably not aware of Matt's existence, much less being in any kind of relationship with him," said Victoria coldly.
"Son? Can you explain this?" asked Mr Daehler, frowning.
"I want her to be my girlfriend, I just didn't gather the courage to ask her out, yet," answered Matt with a dreamy look on his face which caused Scott to shiver, it was so creepy.
"I'm sorry to break it to you, but your infatuation is not an excuse to take pictures of our daughter without her knowing," said Chris sternly. "Mr and Mrs Daehler, I would like to see those pictures, in his room and on his camera. Would one of you be so kind and accompany me to his room?" asked Chris.
"I'll take you there," Matt's mother offered and the hunter went after her, leaving the rest of them in uncomfortable silence which no one seemed inclined to break.
When they got back, Chris' face was stern and serious, his jaw clenched.
"There are dozens of our daughter's pictures there, it's highly disturbing, to say the least. This sort of an obsession, it can't be healthy and it needs to be treated," demanded Chris, a dark look on his face.
"Now wait a moment, I don't think that a couple of pictures deserves to be called an obsession," said Mr Daehler defensively. "Matt probably just needs more friends and another hobby besides photography, that's all."
"Maybe reconnecting with old friends would help Matt to take his mind off this love interest of his?" suggested Scott suddenly and they looked at him, surprised. "I'm friends with Isaac Lahey, I don't know if you remember him? He always speaks about Matt with fondness, he has many great memories of their time spent together when they were kids."
"I do recall Isaac, he was such a sweet child!" gushed Mrs. Daehler. "That might be a good idea, since Matt had been inconsolable after their fall out."
Scott observed the other boy closely and saw his clenched fists and the way his shoulders tensed at the suggestion. Good, they were getting close.
"I'm sure that if I just talked to Isaac's father he would allow Matt to visit more often. Maybe we could hang out with Matt at the Laheys? They have a splendid swimming pool," added Scott with a feigned nonchalance, watching the other teenager getting more and more riled up.
After hearing about the swimming pool, Matt jumped from his chair and yelled, clearly aggravated: "I'm not going there again, ever!"
"What's wrong, sweetheart? It's just visiting your childhood friend, it can't be that bad," Mrs Daehler asked, upset at his outburst.
"I heard that Mr Lahey also plans to reconnect with his old swimming team, so it's not like he minds guests," Scott lied through his teeth, wanting to rile Matt up. “I’m sure he will be delighted to have you there.”
And he succeeded, as the other boy jumped at him and grabbed his neck, squeezing and choking him.
"I'm not- I'm gonna kill anyone who even tries to- I'm going to kill them ALL!" Matt bellowed, shaking.
The next moment, Chris threw the boy off Scott. The young werewolf massaged his bruised throat for appearances sake, not taking his eyes off Matt who kept struggling in the hunter's strong grip, his teeth bared, growling like an animal despite being one hundred percent human. The sight of him was quite pitiful, and Scott couldn’t help but feel sad for the boy. But it didn’t mean that he regretted exposing him like that, since Matt would become a murderer should the opportunity arise.
"Oh my God," Mr Daehler exclaimed, horrified at his son's outburst, while his wife was deathly pale and clutching at her chest.
"I'm sorry to say this, but Matt is probably more disturbed than we have previously thought," said Victoria, not sounding sorry at all. "Because of this unprovoked attack and the death threats at that, we need to insist on you taking the steps to ensure that Matt is permanently removed from our daughter's vicinity."
"A therapy would also not be amiss," added Chris for good measure. "Or would you prefer us having this incident reported to the police and the school principal?"
"There's no need for that," Mr Daehler said gravely. "We'll take Matt off the school for the time being and find a good therapist for him. He won’t be getting back until he’s given the green light from the psychiatrist, that’s for sure."
Matt finally stopped struggling and Chris let the boy go, watching him wearily still.
"I'm not- I’m the victim here, you can't punish me!" the teenager protested.
"Young man, you'll soon find that we can, and we will," his father stated sternly, his wife nodding weakly. Then the man turned to the Argents and said: “I don’t want to come off as rude, but I need you to ask you to leave. I promise that we will handle this, and Matt won’t be going back to school anytime soon, but this is a family matter and we would appreciate being left alone now.”
“Understandable,” Chris said empathetically while standing up, Victoria following his lead. “I’m really sorry that it came to this.”
Mr Daehler just nodded, while Mrs Daehler walked them all out.
Once outside, they were all silent for a moment.
“That was a masterfully executed plan, Scott,” Victoria finally broke the silence. “I must admit that I’m impressed.”
“Um, thank you?” said the teen, not used to being complimented by the stern woman.
“Would you like to come with us to tell Allison all about it?” she asked.
“I’m not- I mean, I’d be glad to but I’m sure that you can handle this,” he answered, entirely out of his depth. Victoria Argent had never, ever, been kind to him and he wasn’t sure how to react to her sudden amicable behaviour.
“Nonsense, you deserve some recognition for your actions. What do you think, Chris?”
The man looked as surprised as Scott felt, as he answered: “I… Yes, of course.”
“Perfect! It’s decided, then,” said Victoria, satisfied. "I'll text Allison and check if she's home yet," she took out her phone and quickly wrote a message.
After a moment her phone beeped and she said: "She should be home soon. Let's go, then, we'll wait for her there."
***
Once they arrived, Victoria invited Scott inside and went to the kitchen to get some drinks. Chris sat down on the couch, sighing wearily, his posture hunched.
"It was emotionally draining, wasn't it? The visit at the Daehlers, I mean," Scott asked empathically.
"That's an understatement," the man said with a grimace. "How could someone so young be already so twisted, unhinged?"
"How indeed," Victoria said with a cold voice from behind Scott and before he knew it, the teen was electrocuted with a taser and he fell to his knees, moaning from the pain. Within seconds, the woman circled him with what looked to be a mountain ash line and she took a step back, a satisfied smirk appearing on her face.
"Victoria, what are you doing?" exclaimed Chris, jumping up from the couch, but she flared the taser again in response, signalling to him to stay away.
"Don't you dare to come closer, Chris," she warned. "The last time I checked, I was this family's matriarch and let me remind you that I'm still in charge here. I just want to question this werewolf, which is well within my rights."
The man hesitated, then backed down.
"How did you know?" asked Scott, wincing from the pain.
"Please, I'm not stupid," he woman rolled her eyes at him. "When my dear husband told me that he stole the wolfsbane-laced bullet to help a friend, I wondered who he was spending his time with recently. This apparently included you, your mother and that boy, Isaac. And when I saw your flawless performance today at the Daehlers, I just knew it was you. With the same perfect act you managed to weasel your way into our family and gain Chris' trust, but then my husband was always the more impressionable of us two."
"Victoria, please. I knew that Scott was a werewolf, he didn't hide it from me. He's harmless, I swear," Chris pleaded with her.
"Spare me, please, there is no such thing as a harmless beast," she said with derision. "But did he tell you that he was an Alpha werewolf as well? He doesn't act like a Beta, even though he masks himself well with the whole harmless teenager act."
"What? That's a ridiculous idea," said Chris, shaking his head. "Scott, tell her, show her that she's wrong."
The teenager got up from his knees and looked at the man sadly. "I can't, because she's right."
The man blanched, looking as if he was punched, hard.
"I'm sorry, Chris, I would have told you yesterday, I swear, but you said to me that it could wait, that we'll talk about it later," Scott tried to explain, but the man shook his head.
"You lied to me," he said, his voice cold and unforgiving, "You told me that Derek Hale was the Alpha. You made me trust you, and then you lied to me."
"No, that's-" Scott didn't manage to finish as the hunter took the taser from Victoria and electrocuted him himself.
The young werewolf screamed and fell to all fours. This time, the torture lasted longer and he was shaking by the time the man was done with him.
"I never lied to you, Chris Argent, and I never will," Scott said finally, panting, his voice breaking in the middle. "You may torture me, or hit me until I'm black and blue, but I will never admit to saying any falsehoods besides the lies of omission, and I told you that I was keeping secrets from you."
Chris squatted beside him and said coldly: "If you're an Alpha werewolf, this means that you have killed to gain your power. And I will never trust a word of a murderer."
"I am. not. a. murderer!" said Scott with a passion, standing up and straightening his shoulders.
"Why, because killing to become an Alpha doesn't count as a murder?" asked Victoria with a sneer. "I simply hate the double morality in werewolves."
"No, because I didn't need to kill anyone to become one in the first place," said Scott, allowing his eyes to shine a pure ruby red light. "I'm a True Alpha, and I am many things, a guardian, a protector, but never a murderer."
"Ridiculous! True Alphas are a myth, nothing more. Besides, you wouldn't meet the standards to become one in the first place," the woman said dismissively.
"What, the strength of character? The force of will? Pureness of convictions? Tell her, Chris, if I am lacking in any of these departments," Scott asked the hunter, looking him straight in the eye.
The man hesitated. "No, you're not," he admitted finally. "But Scott, we would need more than just your words to believe you."
Suddenly, the young Alpha felt a righteous anger burning in him. "So saving Isaac from abuse and protecting Allison from the threat you weren't even aware of isn't enough to convince you that I'm a good person, is this what you're trying to tell me?" he asked, hurt.
"What we need is proof," pressed Chris, unrelenting.
Victoria nodded to that and added: "And you're not going to deliver, werewolf, because it's just another one of your lies, designed to trick and deceive us into trusting you again."
Scott closed his eyes for a moment, gathering all of his strength of will, then said: "I'm going to prove myself to you, Chris, but after this? I'll consider my debt to you paid in full," he said calmly, then focused on the mountain ash barrier and pushed.
The pure blue light surrounded him, the barrier opposing him for a long moment, but Scott focused on his wish to save and protect, which was the very essence of him being a True Alpha, of his fierce love and care he felt even for those who had wronged him, and soon the barrier gave in with a tremor.
The Argents looked at him with incredulity, watching as he walked past the now smudged mountain ash line. Scott took a step closer to Chris and saw the man flinching away from him.
"Did you really think that I would attack you?" he asked brokenly, his throat clenching. "I would never, ever do anything to cause you harm. But this means that you never really knew me at all and I was wrong to think that a few weeks of companionship can override centuries of prejudice."
Scott turned away from the shocked hunters and he left their house, feeling drained and empty inside.
Chapter Text
Chris looked at Scott's retreating form feeling painfully ashamed of himself. He had deliberately, intentionally caused pain to a friend and forced him to reveal the truth about himself with brutal coercion that up until now he had reserved only for his enemies. Scott would have been perfectly justified if he wanted to hurt him in return, but he hadn't, and it shamed Chris even more.
“Why are you just standing here? Go after him!” his wife urged him suddenly.
He looked at her with apprehension at what was being asked of him. Did she want him to follow Scott and kill him, or bring him back for further interrogation, or maybe she wanted him to mend bridges with the teen?
“He’s a True Alpha, Chris,” Victoria explained with poorly hidden impatience. “Our family has never had the chance to observe such a specimen, and he seems to feel some kind of kinship with you, I have no clue why, but he does. So go after him and find a way back to his good graces,” she ordered.
The man suddenly felt furious. All of this wouldn’t have happened if Victoria hadn’t lured Scott to their house under false pretenses and tried to imprison him with the mountain ash. No matter how much guilt Chris felt at his own actions, it was Victoria who was responsible for orchestrating it all in the first place.
“I’m done with taking orders from you,” he said, clenching his fists angrily. “I’m going after Scott not to use him as a tool, but because I was in the wrong and he deserves to hear my apologies.”
He left the house in quick strides, not looking back at his wife. Maybe later he will have the chance to grieve and regret the deep discord that has taken root between them, but right now it was not the time for that.
He ran after the young Alpha, glad that he was still within the sighting distance. The teenager turned around at hearing his footsteps, his posture guarded and defensive.
“Scott, please, hear me out,” Chris pleaded. "What I did was wrong, and I want you to know that I’m sorry,” he said, feeling that his words were painfully inadequate compared to the gravity of his actions.
The young werewolf just kept watching him dispassionately, his face not giving anything away.
“If I could take it all back, I would, please believe me,” Chris begged.
“I’m glad that you can’t take it back,” Scott stated finally, “since this is a valuable lesson for me. Painful, true, but a lesson nonetheless.”
“On what, that hunters are not to be trusted? That I'm not to be trusted, because I make promises and then I break them at the slightest provocation? I wish I have never learned that about myself,” the man said bitterly.
“Stop with this self-hatred, it doesn’t suit you,” the young Alpha finally changed his unrelenting stance and took a step closer to Chris, his gaze losing its coldness from before. “It’s a lesson for me that I shouldn’t put the people close to me on a pedestal as I did with you. You may be one of the best men I know, but you’re still human. It wasn’t fair of me to expect you to never make a single mistake,” Scott admitted.
The man closed his eyes for a moment, fighting shame and despair. “How’s that I have hurt you and you’re the one comforting me?” he finally asked, his voice hoarse from the emotional turmoil he was in.
“Chris, look at me,” Scott ordered sternly but not unkindly.
The hunter felt compelled to listen and looked at the boy, no, young man, who put his hands on Chris' shoulders, the warmth of his strong grip feeling like an anchor, safe and reassuring.
“Your friendship, it’s important to me. You hurt me, that’s true, but I put you in that place by stalling and not coming clean about myself until it was too late. Can you forgive me for that?” asked Scott and Chris’ guilt doubled as he was reminded how kind and selfless the teen really was. How could he have ever accused him of murder?...
“I should be the one asking you for forgiveness,” he protested weakly.
“You have it,” Scott assured him simply, easily, squeezing his shoulders comfortingly. “But don’t ever doubt me again,” the young Alpha added quietly, looking hurt and resigned.
Chris was floored by such an easy acceptance. He knew perfectly well that he didn't deserve it, but he would take it nonetheless, because he desperately wanted to go back to their rapport from before, if it was even possible.
“I won’t, I swear,” Chris promised and pulled the teen into a desperate hug, trying to convey all of his sorrow and regret. Scott was startled at first, but after a moment of hesitation he returned the embrace. They both needed this, the reassurance that even after everything that had happened, they could still enjoy being close to one another.
After a moment, Chris pulled back and said: “You said that you shouldn't have put me on a pedestal since I'm not perfect… But I think you should know that I liked the man that you saw in me. I wanted to be that man, even though I know that I’m far from it,” he admitted.
“You’re closer to it than you think,” the teenager assured him kindly and Chris basked in the warmth of his words.
This was getting ridiculous, really. He was a grown up man, and a werewolf hunter at that, he shouldn't be getting mushy at the slightest sign of approval from the young Alpha. But much as he tried to fight it, the fact was that he yearned for Scott's trust and acceptance. This was the reason why he had reacted so badly at the thought that the teen had lied to him. Chris' reaction had been so volatile because he felt so invested in their friendship, and the mere thought of being manipulated had caused him to lash out blindly.
He promised to himself that he would not make the same mistake ever again.
"So, what happens next?" Chris asked finally, marvelling at how easy it was for him to look to Scott for guidance. If he was being completely honest with himself, he was never a leader material, he was perfectly at ease with obeying orders instead. He was just glad that he finally found someone who was actually worth following.
“We should both go to our respective homes, I’d say,” Scott decided. “I think you can handle the talk with Allison about Matt, since she should be back soon. And, frankly speaking, the only thing I want right now is getting some rest.”
Chris looked at him thoughtfully, noticing the slumped shoulders and deep shadows under his eyes which spoke volumes about the teen’s fatigue. He knew that a huge reason for that was probably an emotional duress, since the physical tiredness shouldn’t bother an Alpha werewolf as much.
“Do you want me to give you a ride home?” he offered, and saw that Scott hesitated for a moment before nodding.
In the car, the teen curled on his seat and closed his eyes, which made Chris remember a similar ride when he took the young werewolf on a trip to the lake. He smiled wistfully, as this was a good memory, a reminiscence of the easy camaraderie that they had built over the past few weeks.
While seeing the teen so tired again felt like a stab to his already guilty conscience, Chris was glad that Scott still felt safe enough around him to drop his guard in such a manner. Thanks to this the man knew that he had truly been forgiven, and it warmed him from the inside.
However, he might not get another chance if he ever betrays the young werewolf again, he knew that perfectly well and was determined not to let it happen.
***
Once they arrived, Scott opened his eyes and looked at Chris, whose scent was still laced with guilt and shame, but thankfully much less than before. The teen was glad for that. While feeling emotionally drained from today's events, he knew that he had forgiven much serious deeds in the past, taking Peter as a prime example.
If he had truly been a sixteen year old boy, he might've been less inclined to be so open and forgiving. However, having lived one life already, he had learned the hard way that keeping grudges never did anything good to anyone. There were more important things in life than clinging to one's hurts, either true or perceived.
After seeing first-handedly how thirst for revenge had destroyed Deucalion's life and had been the indirect cause of Jennifer Blake's death, he had a really good incentive not to follow in their footsteps. Besides, he knew that Chris had only hurt him because the man felt that he had been lied to. It hadn't been a cold blooded, deliberate betrayal on the hunter's part, and as such it was much easier to forgive.
Even if Chris' actions had hurt Scott, a lot.
"Thanks for the ride," he said quietly, putting aside his troubled thoughts.
He was about to get out of the car, when Chris grabbed his arm, stopping him. The teen looked at him questioningly.
"I'm really sorry for what I said and did today," the man said apologetically. "I feel like I haven't said it enough times yet."
"Chris, it's fine, you don't have to apologize to me anymore," Scott assured him, patting his hand consolingly. "But you might feel this way until you're ready to forgive yourself. Don't let the guilt put you down, I wouldn’t wish that on you."
"How do you even do it, act so mature and wise all the time?" the hunter asked disbelievingly. "Don't you ever get the urge to scream at someone or punch them in the face?"
"Sometimes, yes. But I'd rather hug people than hit them, you know," Scott replied with a crooked smile.
"I've never thought that I would be so glad for your hugging people tendencies, then," the man returned his smile. "Now go and get some rest."
"Good night, Chris."
Chapter 32
Notes:
Warnings for this chapter:
1. a mild sexual scene
2. homophobic language
Chapter Text
Isaac noticed immediately that something was wrong but Scott didn't feel like re-telling today's events. Thankfully, his boyfriend didn't press further and the both of them spent a nice, relaxing evening together, preparing dinner just for the two of them, since Scott's mom was on a night shift at the hospital.
After dinner, they cleaned up the kitchen and went upstairs. They were cuddling on the bed, when Isaac fidgeted for a bit before asking: "I know that you had a rough day, but do you still want to... spend a night together? Because if you don't feel like it, that's totally fine," the teen assured him hurriedly.
Scott looked at the beautiful boy snuggled close to him with his head propped on Scott's arm and couldn't believe how lucky he was to have him.
"Of course I want to," he assured the blond boy, then captured his lips in a slow, sensual kiss, leaving them both slightly breathless once they parted. "But after the whole day I could use a shower, first. Wait for me?"
"I don't know, maybe I should start without you," teased Isaac with a small smile, though a blush on his cheeks told Scott that the boy was nowhere near being that brazen, yet.
Under the shower, Scott wondered for a moment how far he would like to take things tonight, then realized that this was up to the other boy, really. Whatever he felt comfortable with, Scott would give to him without hesitation.
Going back to Isaac's room only in his briefs had an additional perk of seeing the other teen watch him with undisguised interest, attraction plain on his face.
"You're still in your T-shirt?" Scott asked with an eyebrow raised and Isaac quickly stood up and took it off, dumping it carelessly on the ground, then looked at him expectantly.
"Nice," murmured Scott approvingly, coming closer and allowing his hands to slide down that perfectly defined chest, all the way until the line of Isaac's jeans. "May I take these off of you?" he asked and Isaac nodded, his breath hitching as Scott unbuttoned his pants and opened the zipper, sliding the pants down the boy's thighs and onto the floor. Then, he pushed Isaac gently onto the bed and took his jeans and socks off, leaving the other teen only in his boxers.
He then climbed on top of Isaac, supporting some of his weight on his forearms, and showered the boy's face, neck and chest with kisses, licking and nipping gently at the delicious skin. After a moment, he started to rock his body slightly, making their still clothed groins grind against each other with small, deliberate movements, and he felt the boy harden beneath him in response.
Happy and relieved that Isaac was so receptive so far, Scott kissed him again, at the same time allowing one of his hands to drift lower and he palmed the boy through his boxers, massaging him gently. This gained him a breathless moan which encouraged him even further.
“We could touch each other," he whispered in Isaac’s ear. “Would you like that?"
Isaac nodded eagerly, but then he asked uncertainly: "Will you show me what to do?"
Scott smiled at him reassuringly. "Of course. But it's not that different from touching yourself, really."
Once they were naked, Scott pulled Isaac close and kissed him deeply.
"This is all for our pleasure, love. So, stop overthinking this and just let yourself feel," he murmured, determined to make Isaac feel so good tonight that he will forget being shy or uncertain in the first place.
***
The next day they woke up early because of the lacrosse morning training session, first this season. Both boys were excited and happy that they were going to be playing together, on a first line no less. Once at school, they went straight to the locker room, holding hands and sharing small, short kisses every now and then.
When Stiles saw them, he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and winked at them, and Scott was glad that his friend was alright with him dating Isaac.
It seemed that not everyone was equally supportive, though.
“Well, well, see who decided to show up: two dick-licking pansies,” Jackson walked up to them, an ungly sneer maring his otherwise handsome face. “If you had any shame you would quit the team and leave this sport free of dirty poofs.”
Suddenly, the whole locker room went quiet, all other boys looking tensely at the unfolding conflict.
“That’s all you’ve got to say? I confess myself disappointed in you, Jackson,” drawled Scott unconcernedly. “Such generic, unimaginative slurs are hardly impressive, I’ll let you know.”
Jackson grabbed his t-shirt in response with his fists and growled: “Shut up, you faggot, or I’ll-”
“What’s going on here?” Finstock’s loud voice interrupted him.
Jackson took a look at Scott’s calm face and released him with a disgusted huff.
“Nothing, coach,” he answered with an arrogant smirk, pretty sure that Scott will follow suit.
He was wrong.
“Since the captain just said that he doesn’t accept gay players in his team, I’m afraid I have to quit, coach,” said Scott.
“What?” Finstock asked, stupefied. “Since when are you gay, anyway, McCall?”
In response, Scott pulled Isaac to a quick kiss.
“Since now, coach,” he said unashamedly. “So you see, since Jackson doesn’t want us here, we’ve got to quit, right, Isaac?”
The blond boy looked at him with surprise but nodded nevertheless.
“That’s right, ” he confirmed, playing along. “It seems that you’re two players short, coach.”
The coach spluttered, disbelievingly, when Danny added all of a sudden:
“Three players, actually. I’m leaving the team, too.”
“What? No!” Jackson protested loudly. “Don’t be stupid, you don’t have to quit just because those two losers are.”
Danny snorted at that: “What, it’s okay if I’m gay because I’m your friend but everyone else deserve to be called a poof or a faggot? Well guess what, I’m a faggot too, and I’m done with taking this shit from you. I don’t know what bit you in the ass recently, but if I need to leave the team to show support to other homosexual guys, then guess what? I quit.”
There was a moment of silence, when Stiles started speaking: “I’ll quit, too. Not that I’m gay- well, there wouldn’t be anything wrong about that but I’m really not-”
“Shut up, Stilinski!” the coach bellowed. “No one’s leaving the team, and that’s final! Whittemore, you’re not a captain anymore, and if I hear a single homophobic word from you, you’ll be kicked out altogether!” he jabbed the now former captain on the chest with his finger for good measure. “McCall! You’re the captain now.”
At that, a lot of jaws dropped, Jackson’s most of all.
“What? Why?” asked Scott, genuinely surprised.
“If you can inspire and motivate the people on the field the same way that you did just now, we’re going to ace the championships this season. But if you fail me, I’ll bench you, is that clear?”
“Crystal,” Scott confirmed.
“Now, I expect the whole team to be ready to play within five minutes, or your captain career is going to be exceptionally short,” the man ordered, then walked away in a huff.
Scott looked at his friends, then at the other players and said loudly: “You heard the coach, guys! The show’s over, now move it!”
He wasn't a novice at this, he had been a captain once and he can be a captain again. His voice was confident as he encouraged the boys to hurry up, and if he clapped a couple of shoulders in the process and received similar gestures of support in return, that was only an added bonus.
This was his team, and it was a high time he proved that.
***
The practice was moderately successful, with the majority of the team playing reasonably well, though some of them - like Jackson and Danny - were clearly still reeling from the changes that just took place.
After the training, Scott walked up to Danny and thanked him for his support.
“I didn’t do this for you, McCall,” the other boy said to him harshly but without any true hostility.
“I know,” Scott confirmed. “We’re not friends, but I still appreciate the gesture. I hope that whatever bothers Jackson, he gets over it and starts acting like a decent human being again.”
Danny snorted at that. “Hardly. Acting like a decent human being was never his strong suit, but he was never so… spiteful, you know? I don’t recognize him anymore,” he admitted.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure that sooner or later he will stop acting like a jerk. And just so that we’re clear on that, fighting with him is not something I particularly enjoy. But until he gets his head out of his ass, this is how it’s going to be, because I won’t allow myself or my friends to be pushed around,” Scott said with blunt honesty.
Danny nodded. “Fair enough. I know that you’ll defend your friends, even if it causes me to lose mine. But if Jackson doesn’t change, then I guess he was never the friend I thought him to be, anyway.”
“He’ll come around, you’ll see. It’s just that…” Scott hesitated for a moment.
“It might take a while?” Danny finished, smiling wryly, though there was a sadness in his voice. “Believe me, I know. This guy holds grudges like nobody else I know. ”
They parted amicably, feeling that they understood each other well enough to know where the other stood.
Scott sighed heavily and went to look for Isaac and Stiles. Even though he had come to like and respect Jackson in the previous timeline, the arrogant, spiteful boy that was sixteen year old Jackson was far from the man that he had known. He had a lot of growing up to do before Scott deemed him even remotely trustworthy.
The young Alpha was also rather determined not to allow Jackson to get bitten, at least until he was fairly sure that the other teen will not turn into Kanima, again. No matter how useful the Kanima’s paralyzing venom might be in the future, Scott wasn’t going to risk anyone’s life for it.
Chapter 33
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Until the lunch break the rumours of the lacrosse captainship change and circumstances surrounding it had already circled throughout the school, to the point that Scott was approached several times by people he barely knew. They mostly wanted to thank him for being so open with his sexuality and for taking an active stand against the homophobic behaviour. It honestly astounded him how big an impact his actions had, as during his first chance at life he hadn't thought about these matters, not really. Sure, he was supportive of Mason and Corey but he hadn't had the forethought to ask them if they had ever been the victims of bullying because of their relationship or sexuality in general.
This time around, though, he wanted to do better and be an example not only for the supernatural beings (though this will always be his priority) but also for the completely ordinary people. Especially the teenagers who needed someone to look up to, someone open and unashamed of his sexuality, who could prove to everyone that all love was equal no matter the gender. And if that made him some kind of an accidental activist, well, he wasn't going to complain.
This was the reason why he spent the breaks between classes talking with various people, receiving congratulations, patting shoulders and having his own patted in return. He kept smiling and listened patiently when people talked about their troubles, and acted almost political about the whole thing. It was quite a novelty for him, because while he had been used to being a leader of his pack, at school he had always been the shy, withdrawn one.
However, all the attention that the morning training practice started to receive had its downsides as well, as after a couple of times of being accosted by complete strangers Isaac stated that it was not his thing and that he didn't feel all that good being in the limelight, so he hanged out with Stiles while Scott remained in the center of attention.
At the lunch break, Scott decided that enough was enough and he excused himself from yet another conversation, stating that he needed to spend some time with his boyfriend. This got him a wink and he was finally free to join Isaac and Stiles at their table.
"Sorry, guys," he apologized, patting Stiles' shoulder and then gave Isaac a quick peck on the cheek.
"If you want my forgiveness, better start from kissing me properly," Isaac said with a haughty pout and Scott was all too happy to comply, pulling him into a long, open-mouthed kiss, enjoying the way Isaac's heartbeat quickened in response.
"Now that's what I call an apology," murmured Isaac approvingly once they parted.
"Dude, you're already forgiven where I'm concerned," Stiles assured, looking slightly green.
Scott snorted at hearing that. "Don't worry, mate, I don't think my boyfriend would appreciate me apologizing to you in the same way."
But to his surprise, Isaac said with a smirk: "I don't know, it might be worth it just to see Stiles splutter and try to get away from you. I'm fairly sure that he would fall from the chair while attempting to bat your hands away from his virgin body."
"You're evil, that's what you are, Lahey," moaned Stiles exaggeratedly. "You've got such a devious mind, how everyone else is buying your innocent act, anyway?"
"Thanks to my pretty face, Stilinski, not that you would know," smirked Isaac.
Scott just shook his head at their bickering, almost sure it was all a friendly act. It was strange, this weird relationship between his best friend and boyfriend, but if it worked for them, Scott wasn't going to complain.
He looked around and saw Allison coming in their direction with an ugly scowl on her fair face, and he was instantly on alert. He rose from the chair and started saying a greeting, when the girl punched him - hard - on the arm, and then took his t-shirt in her fists and kissed him full on the mouth, a short, forceful press of lips, then let him go with a slight shove.
"Scott McCall, you're the most obnoxious, awful, lying bastard that I ever had the displeasure of meeting," she growled angrily, then added: "And I can't thank you enough for what you did yesterday."
"Have you just… punched and kissed my boyfriend?" asked Isaac incredulously. "What the actual fuck, Allison?"
"He deserved it, both of it," she said unapologetically, then asked Scott: "Did you tell them about Matt, or was I not the only one being kept in the dark?"
"I told no one except for your parents, I swear," assured Scott.
"Oh, is this about the mysterious business that you were taking care of for the Argents?" asked Stiles.
"Yup, it is," Scott confirmed. "Listen, I think that we should all meet after school so that we can talk about everything, both the werewolf stuff and the thing that I was involved with Allison's parents. I really don't want to tell everything twice. What do you say?"
"Finally!" exclaimed Stiles, throwing his hands up. "I was getting sick of all the secret stuff already."
"Count me in," said Isaac stoically. "But it better be good, or that kiss is not going to be so easily forgiven," he warned.
"Allison? What about you?" asked Scott. "How do you feel about getting inside knowledge of the supernatural stuff?"
The girl put hands on her hips. "Do you really need to ask? I wouldn't miss it, for anything."
"Even for the whole chocolate in the world?" the young werewolf teased, knowing about it being her secret guilty pleasure.
She hesitated for a moment. "You drive a hard bargain, you know. Yes , even for the chocolate."
***
After the classes they all met at Scott's house and bunked together on the sofa in the living room, as it was the only piece of furniture large enough to accomodate all four of them. Things were slightly tense at first, though, since Isaac absolutely refused to accept Allison sitting anywhere near Scott.
"After that kiss earlier? No fucking way I'm letting you sit beside him," he said stubbornly, ignoring Melissa's muffled "language!" coming from the kitchen.
"Fine, you're going to be the buffer between me and Scott," the girl huffed, exasperated. "Happy, now?"
"Fine," he said, folding his arms stubbornly.
Scott just sighed as he opened the sofa, making it into a giant bed to give them more space so that they could at least be comfortable.
They ended up half-sitting, half-lying on the pile of pillows, eating pizza that his mom ordered once she had heard of their impromptu gathering, Allison on the far left side, Isaac beside her, Scott pressed next to him, and Stiles on the far right side of the sofa.
After the meal Scott started to tell his tale, warning them in advance that it was going to be long, but his friends actually looked more excited at that. He told them about how he had been bitten by a rabid werewolf which - beside turning him into one as well - actually made him an Alpha wolf with more knowledge and power than freshly turned weres usually had. At that, he was showered with questions on werewolf hierarchy and he did his best to explain the Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics to them, giving Derek as an example of his own Beta.
Once that was out of the way, he admitted that he had known all along who had bitten him and that it was Derek's uncle, Peter, who had been mad with pain and thirst for revenge at that time. He recounted the events that had led to their confrontation, including Derek getting shot and being saved by Chris, and discovering that Derek wanted to be an Alpha himself in order to rebuild the Hale pack. Finally, he told them how he had taken Alpha spark away from Peter and given it to Derek, making him an Alpha in the process, and how the two of them had just started to find their way in having two packs on the same territory.
"Wow," breathed Stiles incredulously once Scott finished his tale. "You really don't do anything by halves, do you?"
Scott just shrugged and said: "Being a werewolf is unavoidable for me, since I've already been bitten, so the best thing I can do is to actually embrace all of it, you know? The good things, like enormous strength, enhanced senses and the deep bonds with my packmates, but also the darker parts, such as the constant danger, dealing with other werewolves and werewolf hunters. It's not easy, but it's worth it."
"Is it?" doubted Isaac with a frown. "It sounds to me like there are more downsides to being a werewolf than actual perks. Say, if you could go back to that night when you were bitten, knowing what you know now, would you actually choose to be a werewolf?"
Scott almost choked at the question, not liking how close it came to what had actually happened. The only difference was that he had returned to this time shortly after he had been bitten. But if he had gone back one day earlier, would he still go with Stiles to the forest and allow himself to be bitten by Peter?
"I would. It… defines me, in the ways that nothing else does," said Scott finally as he tried to put his feelings into words. "Being a werewolf comes so naturally to me that I don't think I could ever go back to not being one."
His statement was met with silence, the other teenagers clearly processing his statement.
“That’s just… incredible,” said Stiles. “But you can turn people into werewolves, right? Would you bite me if I asked you to?”
“Whoa, what?” asked Scott, shocked.
He tried to imagine a werewolf Stiles, and he couldn’t get his head around the idea. Stiles had always been so… normal, a surprisingly down-to-earth type of guy even despite all his nerdiness and fascination with the supernatural, he was the most human of them all. Even Allison - the one from his previous timeline - being the werewolf huntress herself was more tuned to the supernatural world than to the mundane one. But Stiles, he had joined the FBI for crying out loud, he was the ultimate human ally of their pack.
“Why are you so shocked?” Stiles asked with a mix of hurt and resentment. “Am I not cool enough to join your pack? Or do you think I’m too weak to handle it?”
“No, Stiles, I just… You’re already part of my pack, you’re like my brother!” he assured his friend. “But biting you, I don’t know, it just doesn’t seem right . Like, can you actually imagine me being your Alpha, with you following my lead?” he asked as he tried to explain. “I don’t need you to be my Beta, I need someone who won’t have qualms about criticizing me and calling my plan bullshit if it really is.”
“Now that you mention it… Having to listen to you would be weird ‘cause, you know, I’ve always been the one coming up with the coolest ideas,” admitted Stiles, perking up a little bit.
“So true!” Scott said with a smile and they bumped their fists in sync.
“What about me? I would make a splendid werewolf, if I may so myself,” said Allison with a wink. “Also, this supernatural world of yours desperately needs a woman's touch, you know.”
“I don’t think that’s such a great idea,” Scott said hesitatingly. “You would make an awesome werewolf, I know you would, but your family has very strict rules about one of theirs being bitten.”
“And what would they do to me, really? Slap me on the wrists? Chain me during the full moon?” she asked, shrugging unconcernedly.
“Allison, this is serious, they have a rule that each hunter that gets bitten by a werewolf needs to commit suicide before their first full moon,” Scott warned.
“What? You’re joking, right?” she asked worriedly, but he shook his head and she blanched.
“That’s it! From now on, no one’s talking about biting anyone or commiting suicide, is that understood?” asked Melissa sternly, coming from the kitchen with a cartoon of juice, a bottle of soda and a couple of glasses.
“Agreed,” said Scott, eager to change the topic. “Mom, why don’t you join us? I know that you’ve been eavesdropping from the kitchen, so you might as well get comfortable.”
“I’m your mother, I need to know what shenanigans my son is getting into. Of course I was eavesdropping.” The woman rolled his eyes and sat down in the old armchair, grabbing a glass for herself and filling it with orange juice.
“Okay, turning me into a werewolf is out of question, got it,” said Allison after a moment. “How about you tell us all about the stalker, then?”
“Stalker? What stalker?” asked Stiles, sharing confused glances with Isaac.
Scott groaned. He totally forgot that he had yet another long story to tell. He took a gulp of the soda to water his parched throat, then explained about Matt and his circumstances, how he had bad memories from his childhood which had made him unhinged. Isaac turned pensieve at hearing that and Scott gave him a small nod, discreetly confirming his suspicions.
“Thank you again for realizing what was happening and taking this to my parents,” said Allison heartfully. “But why didn’t you tell me anything?”
“I didn’t want you to act any different, as this would have tipped Matt off and he might have destroyed all the evidence and be on his guard,” explained Scott. “That way, we caught him unaware and showed his parents that he truly was dangerous and needed therapy.”
The girl nodded, not looking happy at being kept in the dark but understanding the rationale behind it.
“But Allison, no more kissing my boyfriend, no matter how grateful you are, alright?” asked Isaac, half-seriously, half-jokingly, trying to lighten up the mood.
“No kissing Scott, noted,” she deadpanned and they all laughed.
***
Later in the evening, once Stiles and Allison left and the two teenagers were alone in Isaac’s room, the blond boy asked hesitantly: "Scott, I need you to answer me honestly: did you befriend me in the hopes of turning me into a werewolf?"
"I would be lying if I said that I didn't consider it," Scott admitted, and saw how the other teen's shoulders tensed instantly. "But Isaac, this wasn't ever a requirement, not of our friendship or us being together. The bite will always be an option for you, but only if you want it too," he assured his boyfriend.
"Are you sure about this?" asked Isaac doubtfully. "Because I don't want to be a werewolf at the moment and I'm not sure if that will ever change. Would you still care for me if I decided to remain human?"
"Of course, that’s never going to change,” Scott assured him.
"Promise?" Isaac asked in a small voice, a reminiscence of the shy, lonely boy that he had been previously and not the confident, self-assured teen that he had started to act like recently.
"I swear," Scott gathered Isaac into his arms and caressed his back comfortingly. “I don’t care if you’re human, werewolf or something else entirely. Nothing will change how I feel about you.”
Even if it made him sad that Isaac probably will never be his Beta ever again, the boy’s well-being and happiness was much more important to him than this.
Notes:
What do you guys think, will Isaac warm up to the idea of being a werewolf?
And on the other hand, will Stiles truly accept that Scott is not going to make him into one?
Let me know your thoughts! :)
Chapter 34
Notes:
Hands up who missed Derek, I know that I did!
Scott did too, and he ain't going to hide it..
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Derek was brooding, there was no other word for it. He was lying on the lavish leather sofa in his spacious new loft, eyes looking unseeingly at the ceiling and feeling altogether miserable.
Which was ridiculous, really. He had everything he could ever want, money, independence, strength and he had recently become an Alpha werewolf which he had dreamed of for years. So why was he feeling so empty inside? Why did everything he had seemed so worthless to him all of a sudden, inconsequential and trivial and altogether useless?
He tried to ignore the possibility that it might be simply due to the fact that he was feeling lonely, because that would be pathetic. He was the ultimate introvert, he hated people, the noise that they made all the time, the meaningless small talk, the empty smiles. He had always preferred to be alone rather than in a crowd, as his own company had always been sufficient to him and he didn’t need anyone else’s. Until now, that is.
He gritted his teeth hard, cursing himself for being so damn needy, so fucking pathetic, but it didn’t change the fact that he needed someone. And not just anyone random, he needed his Alpha, which was ridiculous, since he didn’t have an Alpha anymore. Or did he?
He took out his phone and glared at it as if it offended him. He’s not going to call Scott, he told himself. He was stronger than that. He will prove to himself that he was fine on his own, that he didn’t-
“Fuck it,” he growled aloud, selected Scott’s number and pressed the ‘call’ button before he had the chance to change his mind.
Four signals rang without an answer and he was on the verge of cancelling the call, when Scott finally picked up the phone.
“Derek, is everything alright?” the teen asked worriedly.
“Hi Scott, yes, everything’s fine, why?” he frowned.
Did Scott expect to be called only in case of emergency? If that was the case, then Derek just made a stupid mistake of toying with the idea of hanging out with him as if they were still a pack, while Scott must have started to treat him as an ally only.
“Well, since you’re calling in the middle of my school time, I thought that it was something urgent, so I left the class,” Scott replied, bemused, and Derek felt royally, totally stupid.
“I didn’t think- I’m so sorry Scott, I’ll call you later.”
“No, that’s fine, since we’re already talking you might as well tell me the reason why you called in the first place. Besides, I’ve missed you awfully much, so it’s really good to hear you again,” Scott admitted.
This simple confession worked wonders for Derek as he felt a huge weight being taken from his shoulders once he realized that he was not the only one that didn’t like being apart.
“I wanted to ask you if you have a free afternoon today, so that we could meet and spend some time together, maybe?” he proposed awkwardly, tentatively.
“I’d love to!” Scott replied enthusiastically. “I’ll come to your place once my classes are over, how does that sound?”
“It’s perfect,” said Derek honestly.
“Great! Sorry, but I really need to go back, now. See you later!” the teen said his goodbyes then disconnected.
Derek smiled to himself and he realized that he didn’t feel like lying on the sofa, anymore. He probably needed to clean up the apartment, too, since it was a real mess and he didn’t want Scott to get the impression that he couldn’t take care of himself. So, a little cleaning up wouldn’t go amiss.
***
Three hours later and the loft was sparkling clean, while Derek paced near the door restlessly. When he heard the footsteps and then the quiet knocking, he almost tripped over himself trying to open the door as fast as possible. He was glad that no one was there to witness him acting like some kind of a lovesick teenager, since this was simply a meeting with a friend. No need to feel so nervous and on edge, right?
He opened the door and invited Scott in in what he hoped was a stoic, collected manner.
Once inside, the younger werewolf hugged him tightly and ordered almost incoherently: “You and me, cuddling, now.”
Derek was only happy to comply as they stumbled into the sofa and fell down onto it, which resulted in a chaotic mess of limbs, but that didn’t bother either of them in the slightest. Without hesitation, Derek buried his nose in Scott’s mop of unruly hair, smelling his familiar scent with relish, while Scott nuzzled his neck in response.
“God, I missed this,” the teen Alpha murmured. “We need to meet more often, or else I’m going to jump on you like this every time I see you, company present or not.”
“Oh yes, please,” said Derek unashamedly, both to meeting more often and to being hugged like this.
They spent a long moment like that, relaxing in each other’s embrace, enjoying their combined warmth, before Scott moved backwards a little bit so that they could look at each other while still being close enough to share small touches every now and then.
“How have you been, lately?” asked Scott.
“Fine,” Derek replied automatically, but sighed when he saw Scott looking at him with his eyebrows raised in disbelief. “Honestly? Miserable. I know that I'm not your Beta anymore but it surely feels like it. The need to be close to you, it's overwhelming sometimes," he admitted reluctantly.
“You may not be my Beta anymore, but you're still mine ," said Scott possessively and Derek felt strangely warm at hearing that. He should protest at such a blatant claim, at the mere suggestion of being owned by anyone, but it was nothing but the truth, he realized with a sudden clarity.
"I'm yours," he confirmed in a daze, a hint of wonder entering his voice.
"I know that this may not be the same for other werewolves, but for me the pack lasts forever, Derek. I'll always be your Alpha, even if you're one as well. I know that you have the ability to create your own pack, now, but it doesn't make our bond any less true."
Derek looked at Scott with amazement, moved by the level of commitment and support the younger werewolf was showing consistently during the whole time that they had known each other.
"Would you help me build and train my own pack?" he asked out of the blue, surprising both of them. "All that I can teach them is how to find an anchor in their anger. But what if I bite someone with a different background, whose anger is not strong enough?" he asked with a not so small amount of self-doubt.
Scott gave him a small, indulgent smile, as if he knew a secret that Derek wasn't privy to. "Of course I'll help you, there was never any doubt about that," he assured him.
"I’ve never asked what your anchor is, if you don't mind me knowing," Derek inquired hesitantly, knowing how private and sensitive this topic could be.
But Scott answered readily: "For me, it has always been love, to my mom, my pack, my friends. Oh, I actuallyI forgot to tell you, with so many things happening lately... Isaac and I are together, now, so please cut my boyfriend some slack when it comes to your intimidation techniques, would you?"
Derek looked at him, surprised.
"I'm happy for you," he said honestly. "But won't he mind us being so close to each other?"
He gestured to their close proximity, their arms wrapped around each other loosely, Derek's hands caressing Scott's sides and hips absentmindedly while the boy's palms rested on his own chest.
"I hope he won't, since this has nothing to do with sex and everything with our pack bond," said Scott easily. "I'm going to love and care for many more people, besides, so there's no point in getting jealous about every one of them."
Derek didn't know if he should be ecstatic at being considered one of Scott's loved ones, or disappointed that he wasn't the only one, petty as the thought might be. In the end he decided to just enjoy Scott's presence for as long as he could, and pulled the teen closer to himself, tightening his embrace.
Before today he had thought that as an Alpha he needed to be self-sufficient and do everything on his own, to prove his strength and skills. But with Scott there was no need for any kind of posturing or proving anything, he could simply be himself and not worry about what the younger werewolf would think of him. It felt… liberating.
At some point, their impromptu hugging session was interrupted by Scott’s stomach growling loudly. Derek snickered at hearing it and the younger werewolf punched him lightly on the arm in retaliation.
“Don’t laugh at me, you should have thought about feeding me in the first place, what with you being the host.”
“You know that I can’t cook to save my life,” Derek reminded him, releasing him from his embrace and standing up.
“Okay, let’s see what you’ve got in that fridge of yours,” said Scott, following him into the kitchen. “Eggs and milk only, really? When was the last time you went shopping for groceries?” he asked, dismayed.
“Um… with you?” said Derek, wincing at the sharp look he received from the teen in response.
“We’re going to have a serious talk about a balanced diet and living healthily, but for now let me just whip up an omelette or two. Want some?” Scott offered.
“Sure, I haven’t had an omelette in... “ he thought about it for a moment, then finished awkwardly: “a really long time.”
“Then you’re in for a treat. Now, go search this cupboard- no, the left bottom one-” Scott pointed, “and look for some vegetables. I’m fairly sure I bought some red onions and tomatoes, so if you haven’t eaten them yet we could use them, now.”
Derek let himself be roped into preparing a tomato salsa under Scott’s watchful eye, and he would deny crying over cutting the onions to his last dying breath. Of course, it didn’t stop the teen Alpha from teasing him mercilessly about it, and Derek growled at him, annoyed, though his heart wasn’t in it.
In fact, he felt more centered and relaxed than he had in quite a long time, and he allowed himself to enjoy the feeling.
Notes:
To all who hoped for Derek/Scott relationship, I'm afraid that's not going to happen, these two will have a lot of bromance going on but nothing else...
Chapter 35
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“So, have you thought already about who you are going to turn into a werewolf?” asked Scott once they had finished their meal. “If it’s someone from my school I might be able to give you some insight, though of course I don’t know everyone there.”
Derek frowned at that. “I haven’t thought about this yet, to be honest. Any ideas?”
“Actually, I was thinking about two people, I think they would fit in nicely with you.”
“Go on, I’m all ears,” Derek sat up straight, looking genuinely interested.
“The first person that I have in mind is Erica Reyes. She’s suffering from epilepsy and takes a lot of medication for it, which often makes her feel tired and dizzy. She’s somewhat of a pariah at the school, so she’s got nothing to lose and everything to gain, so you’ve got a high chance of her agreeing to the bite,” said Scott, not liking how cold and calculated he sounded, even if it was the truth. “But if she doesn’t, she won’t be telling anyone about us since she has no close friends to talk to, anyway.”
Apparently, his words surprised Derek, as his eyebrows rose in astonishment. “That's quite pragmatic, especially coming from you. Still, will she handle being a werewolf and everything that entails, including the full moons? From what you’re saying, she seems rather weak.”
Scott thought about it for a moment. True, Erica had decided to run away when the things got tough, but he reckoned that with everything that had been happening at that time, including rivalry between Scott and Derek’s pack, as well as fending off Kanima and the hunters, it wasn’t all that surprising. She hadn’t got the chance to learn how to be a werewolf since she had been bumped right in the middle of a conflict between various factions. However, this time Scott was determined to stop most of it from happening in the first place.
“She desperately wants to prove herself, to show everyone that she’s strong and proud. And she’s a warrior at heart, since she didn’t let her illness break her spirit,” he said finally. “I think she would make a fierce werewolf, but she’ll need a lot of help and guidance to get there. But since we’re in this together, I think that we’ll manage.”
Derek nodded and said: “I’ll think about it. And the second person?”
Scott hesitated for a moment. At first, he thought about suggesting Boyd as the most obvious choice since it had already happened once, but now he wasn’t so sure. Boyd’s weakness was his loneliness but he didn’t need additional strength to feel better about himself, as he wasn’t lacking in this regard even as a human. No, what Boyd needed more than the bite was a true friendship, to connect with someone and form a bond with them. With Derek being rather emotionally guarded most of the time, he didn’t seem like the best choice.
But if not Boyd, then who?
And then Scott remembered how he had talked with his friends the other night about being a werewolf and it gave him an idea.
“Stiles,” he blurted. “I want you to consider biting Stiles.”
This time, Derek’s jaw actually dropped for a moment. “Your best friend, the one who suspected me of murdering my own sister? The irritating, nosy, back-talking teen, that Stiles? How would you think this is even remotely a good idea?” he asked incredulously.
Scott winced, as the way Derek painted the picture, him biting Stiles truly sounded like a recipe for disaster.
But he knew that in the previous timeline, Stiles had been ready to risk his life several times to save Derek’s, including keeping the paralyzed werewolf afloat in the swimming pool to keep him from drowning and from being killed by the Kanima. The lengths that he would go to protect Derek even when they had still despised each other spoke volumes of Stiles’ integrity and strength of will.
“Look, I know how it sounds, but think about this. Stiles may be the most annoying, irritating teen you’ll ever meet and I’m sure that you’ll want to murder him multiple times if you decide to go with this route, but at the end of the day, Stiles is the most loyal and trustworthy person I’ve ever known. He won’t betray or abandon you just because the things get rough,” Scott argued his standpoint.
“So why don’t you bite him yourself?” asked Derek matter-of-factly.
“I told him this already, that I need him to be my friend, free to criticize and challenge me in ways only a friend can,” explained Scott. “And he might not be comfortable doing that if he becomes my Beta, since his instincts won’t make it easy for him to act in a way that might be perceived as challenging the Alpha.”
The older werewolf nodded pensievely, looking deep in thoughts.
“Look, it’s just a thought, but in the end, it’s your decision,” Scott said after a moment. “You might choose to bite both Erica and Stiles or neither of them, that’s all up to you, and then it’s up to them if they accept or not. But I also wanted to talk with you about who I don’t want you to turn into a werewolf, for various reasons.”
Derek made a ‘go on’ gesture and Scott started to list people, including Isaac, Allison, Lydia and Jackson.
“Why them?” asked Derek, surprised. “This Jackson guy, I recall you mentioning that you hate his guts and that you both argue all the time. Surely you don’t plan on getting him into your pack?”
“Not right now, no, since he’s a spiteful, miserable little bastard at the moment, and he’s got a lot of growing up to do. But in a year or two, who knows? He might surprise us yet,” predicted Scott.
Judging by Derek’s sceptical, unimpressed look, he wasn’t convinced.
***
Overall, the afternoon was exactly what they both needed, especially considering the fact that Scott could feel his link with the other werewolf gaining in strength with every conversation and every hug shared. He was glad that they had managed to salvage their bond, weakened after Derek had become an Alpha, as it was all that Scott really cared about.
Thinking about their pack bond, he was reminded of yet another thing that was important to him.
"Derek, I need a favour to ask of you," he said as they were cleaning up the kitchen.
"Sure, what is it?"
"I want to have a tattoo and since I know that the normal method doesn't work on werewolves, I want you to burn it into my skin," Scott revealed.
"It will hurt, you know that, right?" asked Derek, looking concerned.
"Oh, I know it will hurt like hell, but I don't care. The tattoo, it will be my pack's symbol, so I need to have it done," Scott explained.
"This, I can understand. Alright, I'll do it," the older werewolf agreed. "When do you want this to be done?"
"No time like the present, right?" suggested Scott lightly.
"We will need someone to hold you down," said Derek, folding his arms stubbornly as he saw Scott opening his mouth to protest. "Scott, this is non-negotiable. Tattoos are a precise work, I can't have you moving freely."
"Fine, I'll call Peter then, maybe he's available."
It turned out that Peter was free and agreed to assist them, though he wasn't thrilled by the idea, especially once he saw the blowtorch.
"You didn't mention that there will be fire involved," he said then, looking faintly ill.
"God, I'm such an insensitive dick sometimes!" moaned Scott. "I'm so sorry, Peter, I haven't thought that you might be uncomfortable with this, considering your experiences. If you want to call it off, I'll understand."
Thankfully, the man wasn’t offended and he shrugged his apology off.
"Don't worry, as long as the torch is not getting anywhere near me, I'm going to be fine," Peter assured. "Though I must ask you to never mention to Melissa that I helped you with this. I would really prefer to remain in her good graces."
"Duly noted," confirmed Scott.
"Now since that’s decided, draw me that tattoo of yours," said Derek, giving him a loose piece of paper and a black marker.
Scott quickly made a picture of a single circle with an infinity symbol inside of it.
"The circle is my pack, and the infinity symbol… well, it shows that for me, the bonds are unbreakable, the pack is forever," he explained, and both Hales looked at him with identical, unreadable expressions on their faces. Which was scary, since normally they didn't look even remotely alike, despite being related.
"This is quite a bold and strong statement to make," Peter said finally.
"I know, but I mean it, and I believe in it. This tattoo, it will be only an external reminder of what I already know deep inside," Scott assured him.
Derek said nothing but nodded, knowing first-handedly how serious and truthful Scott was about this. He then took the marker and painted the picture on the teen’s arm, figuring out that it would be easier to have the shape already visible on the skin, and then just burn it in the flesh.
"Ready?" he asked, lightening the blowtorch.
Scott felt Peter's strong grip on his shoulders, keeping him still, and he nodded. The next thing he knew, the skin on his arm burned and despite knowing what to expect, he still screamed.
The scorching pain, it was as much awful as the first time around. He forced himself to be still but was truly grateful for Peter’s assistance, as the werewolf’s strength helped to keep him grounded. By the time Derek was finished, Scott’s body shook with tremors and he felt faint. Thankfully, he managed to keep his consciousness throughout the whole ordeal, as the tattoo was really important to him and he wanted to be aware during the whole process, no matter how unpleasant.
“It’s done,” Derek said softly, patting him on the unhurt arm. “Everything’s alright?”
“That hurt like a bitch,” said Scott hoarsely. “But it was worth it.”
He looked at the tattoo, surrounded by blisters and reddened skin, which thankfully already started to heal.
“Thanks, guys, I really appreciate your help,” he said sincerely. “I know that it couldn’t have been pleasant for you.”
Peter rolled his eyes at him. “What, you mean seeing you writhing in pain? Consider this a small payback for taking away my Alpha powers.”
But Scott saw how ashen his face had been just a moment before, only now regaining its normal look, and he wasn’t fooled by the whole ‘nothing moves me’ posturing.
“Peter, I mean it. Your help is valued, and appreciated,” he said pointedly.
“Well, if you'll ever again feel the need to experience agonizing pain for no apparent reason, feel free to contact me,” Peter offered nonchalantly, though a faint blush appeared on his cheeks which told Scott that the man was pleased by his gratitude.
“Actually, Peter, would you mind staying for a moment longer?” asked Derek suddenly, and his uncle looked at him questioningly. “I’d like to have the same tattoo made on my arm, if Scott doesn’t mind.”
“But wasn’t it supposed to be his pack’s symbol?” asked Peter, confused.
“That’s exactly what it is, and Derek is welcome to bear my mark if he wishes to,” approved Scott instantly. “But Derek, are you sure you’d like to do this? I mean, I’d be honoured if you did, but this … it’s like a vow. There’s no taking it back.”
“I’m sure,” Derek confirmed stoically. “As you said, it’s an external sign of something that’s already there. We’re bonded, and I think that in a way I’ll always be your Beta, my own status as an Alpha notwithstanding.”
“Okay, let’s do it,” breathed Scott, changing places with Derek and taking the blowtorch from him. “Ready?”
“Just do it,” huffed Derek impatiently as Peter placed hands on his shoulders.
And so Scott made his first, upgraded pack mark to his (former? current?) Beta. If it wasn’t a milestone, he didn’t know what was.
Notes:
What do you think about Stiles joining Derek's pack? :D
Also, how do you like the idea of the upgraded pack symbol? I think it really hits the mark with it's limitless, boundary-less meaning.
Chapter 36
Notes:
Sooo, I see from the comments that the new pack symbol received mixed feelings, but I really thought that Scott's got to do things differently this time, and his understanding of pack and what it signifies has already evolved. Also, I wanted the tattoo to reflect how for Scott, the pack bonds transcend the time itself. So, for the sake of time-travelling, the infinity symbol stays :)
On another note, I have a surprise chapter for you, it's been written for weeks already but I waited for the perfect moment to introduce another - and I hope also very much missed - character into the story.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
As expected, Melissa was furious when she saw Scott’s new mark on his arm and wanted to ground him, but he reminded her that he was sixteen already and as such was of legal age to get a tattoo if he so desired. Which he had, considering the fact that he wanted to start building his own pack soon, and so he explained to her the pack symbols and their meaning. She wasn’t thrilled, but she - very reluctantly - accepted it, and Scott was glad that he had used the old method of doing things first rather than asking for permission. The tattoo was already a done deal, after all, and there was nothing his mom could do about it, much less forbid it, which was exactly how he had planned it.
Speaking of packs, it reminded him that ever since he had dived into Peter’s mind and quelled the firestorm there, he was able to feel a gentle tug in the back of his mind where he had used to feel all the bonds with his packmates. The bonds which - in the previous timeline - had allowed him to know how they felt, where they were, if they were in danger. Since their deaths he had felt a void inside, a deep silence which was an absence of feeling where once there had been an abundance of it.
But now he was sensing something akin to an imprint there, which was nowhere near the fully developed link, but not quite the total emptiness either. It felt like… a possibility, a hope where once there had been none. And he decided to follow it, to see if his instincts were right, and if he was truly able to sense his future packmates now.
On Saturday morning, he went on a walk alone, not wanting to have anything or anyone distracting him, since the tug was so weak and faint that if he wasn’t fully focused on it, he wouldn’t be able to follow it. From several strings pointing him in various directions, he chose to follow the most insistent one. He was so concentrated on it that he almost walked into a car, not looking where he was going.
Finally, the tug led him to a local playing field where he noticed two young boys throwing balls with their lacrosse sticks. Scott smiled widely at the sight of them, feeling his heart swell in recognition. It was Liam, because who else could Scott’s gut instincts consider the most important bond, if not with his first true bitten Beta?
As if on cue, one of the balls flew past the gate and into Scott, who caught it almost as an afterthought. Liam ran towards him, red from embarrassment.
“I’m so sorry! You almost got hit because of us,” he apologised.
“Relax, kid. I wouldn’t be worth my title of a lacrosse team captain if I didn’t manage to catch one meagre ball,” Scott smiled at him and gave the ball back to the boy.
Who was currently looking at him with eyes wide as saucers.
“You’re a captain?” he asked disbelievingly.
“That’s right, of the Beacon Hills Cyclones,” he explained, then offered the younger boy a hand in greeting, “Scott McCall, but please call me Scott.”
The boy looked at his hand as if he didn’t know what to do with it, then shook it enthusiastically.
“I’m Liam, and this is my friend, Mason,” he introduced his friend who just joined them. “We're in our last year in middle school.”
“So, boys, I see that you were playing lacrosse. Would you like me to give you some tips?” Scott offered.
Liam lit up like a christmas tree but Mason cut him short: “Thank you for the offer, but we’re fine.”
Liam looked at his friend, incredulously. “Mason, he’s the Cyclones’ captain!”
“Or so he says,” Mason whispered to his friend’s ear and looked at Scott with clear distrust.
“Listen, boys, let me prove myself to you,” Scott suggested. “Let’s play, myself against either of you, and I guarantee you that I’ll be able to score ten goals in a row, no misses. If I fail, I’ll admit that I’m a shitty player and I’ll leave. How’s that sound?”
“You’re on,” Liam accepted the challenge, an excited gleam appearing in his eyes. “Mason, give him your stick and gloves.”
The other boy didn’t look happy at the prospect, but gave the gear to Scott who thanked him, ignoring his glower.
The next couple of minutes proved exactly why Scott made the first line in his team. Even without transformation, he was quick on his feet and had great reflexes, an enormous strength, and a keen eye. Despite Liam being a great player for someone so young, he wasn’t any match for Scott who trampled his efforts without breaking a sweat. The werewolf scored ten goals in no time and after the last one he turned to Liam with a smile on his face, only to be hit with the boy’s fist straight in the face, twice, in quick succession.
“Liam, what are you doing?! Stop it!” Mason screamed, horrified.
Scott caught Liam’s fist in a tight grip before the boy was able to land another hit. He looked at the blond boy closely and saw tears of anger and frustration in his eyes, then realised that while he was so focused on proving himself to Liam, the other boy must have felt that he was being humiliated, which triggered his episode.
Suddenly Liam realized that he just hit an older, stronger teen without any provocation, and horror replaced his earlier fury. He stumbled back, his lips trembling in fear of retaliation as he held up his hands in surrender.
“I’m so sorry, please don’t-” the boy said weakly, his voice shaking.
“Kid, calm down. It’s okay. It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have flaunted my skills so much,” said Scott gently, taking off the gloves and giving them back to Mason. “Are you alright, Liam?”
“I apologize, I didn’t mean to…” the blond boy hid his face in his hands, ashamed.
His sheer misery caused Scott’s protective instincts to be triggered, so he came closer to the boy and squeezed his shoulder comfortingly for a short moment, then stepped back.
“Don’t worry, I’m fine. Come on, let’s sit down and talk about it.”
The three of them sat down on the bench, Mason patting Liam’s back comfortingly. Scott longed to do the same, but he knew that he was still a stranger to them, and didn’t attempt to offer any physical contact himself.
“Liam, if my hunch is correct, you suffer from some kind of behavioral disorder, am I right?” he asked, instead.
The boy nodded, ashamed, not looking him in the eye.
“It’s called the intermittent explosive disorder,” offered Mason. “But how did you know?”
“It’s because I suffered from something similar a while ago,” Scott said vaguely, recalling his fits of anger after he had been turned into a werewolf the first time around. “I mean, I still have the affliction, but I don’t have the episodes anymore. I managed to learn how to suppress them, how to be always in control of my actions. That’s why I didn’t hit Liam back, you know. I never lose my cool anymore.”
“Really? You can learn to do that?” Liam asked with a wonder in his voice, finally looking at Scott.
“It’s not easy,” the werewolf admitted. “And it takes a lot of time and effort to get to the point where I am now. But yes, with the correct mindset, you can overcome this.”
“Could you teach me, how? Please?” Liam asked with desperation.
“You can’t just ask this from a total stranger,” said Mason, shocked. “You don’t know him and he doesn’t know you! It just isn’t done.”
“Mason’s right, you know,” said Scott, and his heart clenched painfully at the sight of how Liam visibly deflated at hearing that. “I’m not saying no, Liam. I’m just saying that if we’re going to do this, we need to go through official channels.”
Liam looked at him without understanding. “What official channels?”
“I need to ask your parents for permission, first,” answered Scott lightly and laughed at the flabbergasted look on the blond’s face.
“But why?” asked Mason, looking at the older teen inquiringly.
“Why would I need to talk to his parents?”
“No, why would you even consider doing this in the first place,” Mason clarified.
“Because I know how it feels, to be out of control, how good it is to let the primal urges come forth, and how painfully awful is the guilt afterwards,” Scott explained truthfully.
“So, Liam, are your parents at home?” he asked and the boy nodded in response. “So the question is: are you serious about it? Do you want me to help you with managing your emotions? It’s okay if you want to call it off, or if you need some time to think about it,” he assured the younger teen.
Liam clenched his jaw. “I want it,” he confirmed.
“Good, let’s go then. Mason, you might want to go home. This is going to be a private conversation, I’m afraid,” Scott said apologetically, but Mason just nodded and started to gather his equipment.
***
Liam couldn’t believe how strange his day had become. He had met a captain of a high school lacrosse team, accepted his challenge, somehow managed to lose miserably and attacked him in response. And that older boy, Scott, had never batted an eyelash, never shown even a sign of anger or disgust with Liam he must have surely felt after such an outburst.
Scott was so composed and in control that Liam felt both envy and admiration, seeing that. He wanted to be like that, too, he realised. To be never fazed by anything, to be so calm and strong and self-assured, and Liam couldn’t help but want to be the same.
That’s why he had pleaded with the older teenager to help him. He didn’t care if it had made him look weak or needy, if it would make Scott think less of him in the process. With each year, his episodes had gotten worse and more frequent and Liam hated it, hated himself, hated that his anger had always managed to get the best of him... He just wanted it to end.
And just like that, Scott had agreed to help him. No questions asked, no strings attached. Had even offered to do this the right way, with Liam’s parents permission, which meant that Scott was serious and committed to helping Liam. No one besides his family had ever come close to show this level of support to him, and Liam couldn’t believe that it was actually happening.
He led the older boy to his house, shooting him nervous looks every now and then. Which Scott had apparently noticed, as he asked worriedly:
“Is everything alright? Are you having second thoughts?”
Liam bit his lips, nervously. “I’m rather worried that you will have second thoughts about this, about helping me. I was told I’m rather… difficult to deal with,” he admitted, shamefully.
“Whoever said that to you was a douchebag and I’ll have words with them if you ever tell me who they were,” the older teen said, then added: “Look, Liam, you’re a good kid. I know that I’ve known you for a short time, but I enjoyed spending time with you. So, chin up, alright?”
Liam nodded, strangely moved by the honest liking the older teen projected.
“Okay, this is it. It’s my home,” Liam said, pulling nervously at the hem of his t-shirt.
“Ready?” asked Scott with a calming smile.
“Ready,” Liam breathed, feeling almost faint from all the various emotions battling inside of him.
Scott knocked on the door and waited.
“You know it’s my house, we may just come in,” said Liam, dubiously.
“Trust me, I know what I’m doing. I’m not here as a friend coming to spend time with you. I’m here to do business. Hence, I knock,” answered Scott.
The door opened, revealing Liam’s mother, surprised to see them.
“Honey, what’s going on?” she asked worriedly.
“Mrs Dunbar, my name is Scott McCall and I’m here to talk with you about your son. May we come in?” asked Scott, and Liam marvelled how composed and mature he sounded. He would give almost everything to be like that, too.
Judging by the darkening look on his mother’s face, she had already had a suspicion that Liam had caused trouble, again, and wasn’t happy because of it. But she smiled stiffly and answered:
“Of course, come in.”
She led them to the living room, where Liam’s stepfather was reading a newspaper. He looked up when they came in and Scott quickly took an initiative.
“Hello, dr Geyer, it’s nice to see you again,” he greeted the man who looked confused for a moment, evidently trying to remember him, before his eyes lit with recognition.
“Hello, Scott, what a surprise to see you here.”
“You two know each other?” asked Liam, surprised.
“My mom works as a nurse in the hospital,” explained Scott. “Dr Geyer is her supervisor. I guess I just didn’t connect the dots that his son Liam is actually you.”
Liam’s parents looked at both of them, then his mom said diplomatically:
“David, dear, Scott came here to talk about Liam ,” she said with emphasis.
Liam’s stepdad looked tired and disheartened at hearing that, and gestured for all of them to sit down. Without hesitation, Scott sat down beside Liam, with the boy’s parents sitting opposite of them. It strangely made Liam think about battle lines being drawn, and he couldn’t help but be glad that for once, he had someone on his side.
“Mrs Dunbar, dr Geyer, I wanted to inform you about an incident that took place today when Liam was playing lacrosse,” Scott started.
“Whatever Liam did, you have our sincere apologies,” Liam’s mother assured him hastily. “We are aware of his… anger management problems, and we will address it with him in a suitable manner."
Liam felt his face turn bright red from shame and embarrassment.
Scott looked at the woman before him and raised his brow. “That’s an interesting statement. And I think that I’m starting to realise that there is more than one problem to solve here. You see, I haven’t said that anything that happened was Liam’s fault. You just automatically assumed that he’s the guilty party.”
“But… he usually is guilty,” said Liam’s mother, as if defending herself.
“Look, you’re his parents. You’re supposed to be on his side, let him tell his side of the story, allow him a chance to defend himself,” said Scott, driving the point home.
The adults blanched at hearing that and Liam shook in hurt and anger. He felt his chest tightening, which usually led to his outbursts and he desperately tried to control himself. He stood up violently, knocking his chair over, and his parents jumped in fright.
But Scott didn’t. In unthreatening, but sure movements, he came closer and put hands on his shoulders, keeping him in place.
“You can do it, Liam, you can control this. But even if you fail this time, even if you hit me or lash out at me, I want you to know that I can handle it, and I’m not going to be angry with you, and I’m still going to help you,” the teen said with conviction.
Liam struggled in his grip, his eyes wild and hurt, but Scott said quietly to him: “I’m not giving up on you.”
There was a truth in this statement, a truth Liam could almost taste. As if making a vow, the older teenager promised him everything that the boy had ever wanted: an unwavering, unshakeable support, which wouldn’t end even if Liam failed time and time again. It was almost like an anchor.
Slowly, ever so slowly, the tremors subsided, and Liam felt empty and weak, and he swayed on his feet. Scott helped him sit on his own chair, and he grabbed the one that had been knocked over for himself.
“How did you do that?” asked Liam’s stepfather with wonder. “How did you know what to do, what to say?”
“I’ve been in a similar place, so I can relate to him. But I also said nothing that I didn’t mean, he heard the truth, and he responded to it,” said Scott simply. “That’s why I would like you to allow me to work with Liam on his issues. And please don’t call them anger management problems, as you just saw he could also respond violently to being hurt, and the anger is just a conduit for him to release his emotions. But the root cause is deeper, and this is what I intend to work with.”
Liam’s stepdad said dubiously: “No matter how helpful, you’re not a person qualified for the job. I’m not that eager to allow a teenager to experiment on my son’s mind health.”
“I know that it’s a lot to ask of you, to entrust your son’s well-being to a stranger, and a teenager at that. I know that you care about Liam, but you see, I care about him too,” admitted Scott. “You probably don’t know this, but I have an… affliction of my own, which requires me to be in total control at all times. And I am. I don’t get angry anymore.”
“I don’t believe you. Everyone feels anger,” stated David sceptically.
The teenager shook his head. “I didn’t say that I don’t feel it. I said that I don’t get angry. Which means that the emotion is there, but it never gets released. I calm down, and eventually it dissipates,” Scott explained. “This is what I want to teach to Liam. You saw how well he managed to rein in his anger when he had me to help him through it. At first, he will need my presence to calm down. With time, the mere memory will suffice.”
“It sounds like a perfect solution to Liam’s problem, but I need to ask this: where’s the catch? It can’t be that easy,” dr Gayor said.
“Because it’s not easy at all, it takes a lot of time, effort, and guidance,” said Scott. “But we’ve got time, Liam said he’s committed to it, and I can provide guidance since I was in his place, once. It certainly can’t harm him and there’s a high chance it would help him. So, why not give it a try?”
Dr Geyer just looked at him in thoughtful silence. Why indeed?
***
After some discussion on the finer details of their arrangement, Liam’s parents agreed to let Scott keep seeing Liam to teach him how to stay in control. Not wanting to overstay his welcome, Scott said his goodbyes and asked the younger boy to walk him out.
Liam looked at him shyly. “Thank you for, you know, calming me back there. It was incredible,” he said honestly.
“No, Liam, you were incredible. I’m proud of you, that you managed to control yourself so well,” Scott said with an honest smile.
Caving in to the temptation, he gave the boy a one-armed hug, trying not to spook him by it, ready to retreat at any sign of discomfort. Apparently, he was worried for nothing, as the boy returned his hug readily, soaking up the attention.
“Take care of yourself, kid,” Scott said, stepping back and messing the boy’s hair in goodbye.
Liam scrunched his nose at that and Scott left, smiling.
Notes:
Yes, Liam and Mason are back in the game! They're young though, I think that Liam's 14 at this point, so biting him is out of question for the foreseeable future. Still, he's back, and I'm happy, because that means that Scott's pack/family is slowly but steadily growing in numbers.
FYI, I'm not sure if Liam's mother changed her name to Geyer or if she kept the old surname, but let's say it's the latter and she's Mrs Dunbar.
Chapter Text
Scott was ecstatic that he had managed to befriend Liam once more. In fact, he was probably smiling like a lunatic all the way back home, since people kept looking at him with bemusement. Some more extroverted ones even smiled back at him, while some shot him distrustful looks as if being happy for no apparent reason was a highly suspicious activity. But the only thing that mattered to him was that his inner wolf was content at having met his packmate again, and he didn't care what anyone else thought.
Once he was back home he kissed his mom and Isaac on their cheeks, then gathered them in a tight embrace as he murmured: "I love you both so much, you know that, right?"
Isaac only gripped him tighter, almost desperately, but Scott didn't mind. He knew that his boyfriend was very cautious with his feelings and would rather act to show them than speak of them openly. But that was alright since it was just how he was, and Scott accepted that, because he accepted Isaac as a whole.
"I love you too, honey, but what prompted such a heartfelt greeting?" his mom asked gently.
"Can't I just say that I love you for no apparent reason?" asked Scott with a fake offence, stepping back and grasping at his chest theatrically. "You wound me, oh mother of mine."
His mom laughed and said: "Nice try, but I know you better than that. So, spill it out, what got you so emotional today?"
"I just met a special someone… not like that!" he protested, seeing Isaac's raised eyebrow and affronted look. "I meant in a brotherly way! Just so you know, Liam's fourteen at the moment, so get your head out of the gutter."
"Well, how did you expect me to react to the 'special someone' comment?" asked Isaac indignantly. "I get that you’ve befriended some kid, but how's that important?"
"He's going to become my packmate, though admittedly he's 100% human at the moment," Scott scratched his neck awkwardly, because he realized that a majority of his pack was human, which meant that he really needed to think about enlarging the werewolf part of his pack. "And I even met his parents! Mom, you should know them, it's dr Geyer and Mrs Dunbar."
She looked at him, surprised. "You met my boss and his family? How?"
"I met Liam when he was playing lacrosse with his friend Mason, and we decided to have a one on one game," recounted Scott. "Let's just say that Liam's not good with accepting defeat… He hit me twice on the face before I got him to calm down. And before you say something," he added quickly, seeing her enraged look, "he's got a behaviour disorder which makes it difficult for him to control his emotions. Long story short, I went to Liam's parents to talk about his problems, because he's a great kid and he deserves to have someone to help him with his issues."
"Let me guess, you offered to help him," said Isaac, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Of course I did," confirmed Scott as if it was the most obvious thing to do, and for him, it was. "As a werewolf, I know more about controlling my anger and other negative emotions than most people. Who'd be better suited to teach him control than I?"
Isaac just shook his head and sighed, resigned.
"Disorder or not, he shouldn't have hit you!" Melissa protested.
"Mom, I've had worse," he tried to get to calm her down. "It's not like getting punched in the face is even comparable to being electrocuted with a stun baton, right?"
The astonished, and then thunderous expression on her face told him that bringing this up was a particularly bad idea, especially since he didn't tell anyone yet about what had happened at the Argent's house.
"What did you just say?" she asked, her voice low and dangerous.
"Could we just pretend that I haven't said that?" asked Scott, doing his best attempt at puppy eyes, hoping against reason that his mother would agree.
No such luck, though.
"You got electrocuted? Why? By whom?" she pressed mercilessly.
"Mom, it was simply a misunderstanding, all's fine now," he tried to reason with her, but she didn't budge, her expression stubborn. "Fine, it was the Argents, but only because they thought I was a murderer, and Chris apologized afterwards!"
If the furious muttering "I'm gonna kill that man" was any indication, his mother wasn't appeased by his words in the slightest.
"Mr Argent did that to you? Why?" asked Isaac in a small voice.
Scott looked at him sadly, because he knew that his boyfriend felt indebted to the man for his help in having him rescued from the abusive household. Also, Isaac had just recently started to open up to Chris, and to have his trust tested like that, it must be difficult for the teen.
He gave his boyfriend a quick hug then took a small step back to look him in the eyes, his hands still placed comfortingly on the teen's arms as he said with conviction: "Isaac, he's a good man who made a mistake and honestly apologized for it. It hurt, yes, but it's in the past, I've forgiven him and I'm not going to hold it against him. Please tell me that you won't do either."
"Fine. But if he hurts you again…" said Isaac darkly.
"Then he won't be so easily forgiven, I promise," confirmed Scott, pretty confident that it won't happen again, especially since he had warned Chris against breaching his trust like that again.
***
The next day Scott went to Liam's house, as agreed previously with the boy's parents. He greeted them with a smile when a smaller body collided with him at full speed and he was embraced - though almost tackled to the ground would be a more apt description - by an excited teenage boy.
"Scott, you came!"
"Liam was nervous the whole morning that you won't be showing up," dr Geyer explained, smiling indulgently at his son, who hugged Scott enthusiastically then quickly let go, blushing from embarrassment.
"Sorry," the boy murmured.
The older teen just laughed and ruffled his hair. "No worries, kiddo, I'm glad to see you, too. So, how's your homework, did you manage to do all of it?"
Liam hesitated, then said: "Um, not exactly?"
"Sweetie, you remember that completing your homework on time was our condition of Scott's visits, right?" Mrs Dunbar asked, disappointment clear in her tone. “If you won’t keep your part of the deal, we’ll have to end this arrangement.”
Scott saw how Liam curled his hands into fists, his face getting red with hurt and anger, and he reacted instinctively, placing his hand on the boy's back and caressing it calmingly.
"Let me guess, you tried to do it but you couldn't?" he asked gently, without judgement.
Liam looked at him with gratitude. "Yeah, my thoughts were all over the place and I couldn't focus no matter how hard I tried. I'm really sorry," he said sincerely.
"Don't apologize for doing your best, even if it turned up being not enough," said Scott. "In fact, I think that this will be our first lesson: how to focus on the task at hand. Come on, let's get to your room."
At that, Liam sprinted upstairs and Scott turned to his parents, saying: "Don't worry, we'll get his homework finished," he assured them, then followed the younger boy at a more sedate pace.
Once upstairs, he peered into Liam's room, his eyes opening wide with shock.
"Kid, it looks more like a war zone than a bedroom!" he said, half horrified, half impressed, as the room was literally buried under a pile of clothes, toys, school notes, pencils, empty candy packaging and various other trinkets. "No wonder you had problems with focusing on anything. Come on, let's get it cleaned all up," he said decisively, rolling up his sleeves.
"You're going to help me with this?" asked Liam, shocked.
"Well, I certainly am not going to just watch you trying to clean up this mess, of course I'm going to help," Scott said, placing his hands on his hips and looking around critically. "What we need is a trash bin for everything that can be thrown out, a box for everything school-related, and a plastic garbage bag for the clothes. We're just going to assume that they're all dirty and your mom's just going to do a huge laundry tomorrow," he decided.
Liam took one look at his determined face and just went to search for everything that the older teen listed. Inside, he was strangely happy to just follow instructions, while normally he would get rebellious at the mere thought of someone trying to command him. But Scott didn’t just try to order him around, he was ready to get his hands dirty as well, even though he was a guest and no one really expected him to do any physical work around the house.
But here he was, offering to do just that, and Liam realized that he would gladly follow Scott orders, no questions asked.
***
"Are they…?" Jenna Dunbar asked his husband in a shocked tone, watching the two boys working tirelessly, and on a Sunday no less.
"Cleaning up Liam's room? It looks like it," David replied, his voice full of wonder.
"I couldn't get him to do it for ages! I don't understand how a teenage boy, barely a stranger, could persuade Liam so easily when I struggled to do so for weeks... I'm a horrible mother!" she lamented, tears in her eyes.
David patted her shoulder comfortingly. "That's not true and you know it. Maybe Scott just sees some things better than us because he's an outsider and his view isn't biased?"
"I'm not biased," protested Jenna weakly.
"We both are, love,” he countered gently. “We are so shocked at seeing Liam cleaning up because we're too used to him avoiding it like a plague. And his angry outbursts? We've seen them so many times that we actually stopped trying to calm him down when they occur. Maybe meeting a helpful stranger was exactly what Liam needed.”
He hugged his upset wife and kissed her softly on her lovely blond hair, relishing in her presence.
"Maybe we should stop beating ourselves up about what we did wrong, and try to do better, instead?" he suggested after a moment, releasing her from his embrace.
The woman straightened her shoulders, a determined look appearing on her face.
"Alright," she agreed, "We'll do better, because he's our son and he deserves it."
He smiled at hearing that, this was the woman that he had fallen in love with. He knew that she wasn't perfect, but she would do everything for their family, and so would he.
David knew that Liam struggled with his disorder as it got tougher for him to control himself as the years went by, growing up and being a hormone-driven teenager probably didn’t help either. He didn’t believe in fate or anything of that sort, but this strangely mature teenager, Scott, had truly appeared out of nowhere and offered them help just exactly when it was needed. He tried not to get his expectations too high - after all, how probable was that a mere teenager will accomplish what various specialists already failed at - but he couldn’t help but feel hopeful about the future.
Chapter 38
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The next time Peter called Scott, it was to announce that he had his apartment set up and ready for a housewarming party, if a meeting consisting of them both plus Derek might be even called such. For a moment Peter mused aloud about inviting Chris along, considering the fact that a party of four sounded way better than a party of three, but Scott asked him not to.
"Do you remember that I mentioned having some things which I needed to talk with you about? Well, these are Hale family matters and I don't want any outsider included in that discussion, even one I consider a friend," Scott explained.
"Fine, have it your way," even over the phone Peter somehow managed to sound petulant. "But I still insist on having a manly night later in the month, since these family matters that you speak of sound awfully dull and dreadful. Something tells me that my housewarming party will be anything but."
"You’re probably right," admitted Scott. "But this is important, and I don't want to stall any longer."
"Well, as that sounds quite ominous, you've managed to catch my attention. Let's meet at my place at eight, and bring my grumpy nephew along."
"Will do," Scott agreed. "Text me your address and we'll meet you there."
***
Peter's apartment was exactly what Scott imagined it to be: spacious - even overly so for a single man, - insanely luxurious and looking as if it was taken straight from a catalogue for overly rich people. It was so very Peter-like that Scott had to hide a snicker behind his hand, faking a cough, though he knew that he convinced no one with it. Derek on the other hand looked around with a polite disinterest.
"I confess myself disappointed, as I was aiming for more awed and wide-eyed expressions," Peter said with an exaggerated pout.
"You won't get that from me even if you bought yourself a mansion," Scott teased. "I'm not so easily impressed."
"A palace, then?" suggested Peter innocently, though his eyes were filled with mischief. "Or better yet, a fortress, that would be a more suitable lair for a werewolf, don't you think?
Scott rolled his eyes at him while Derek muttered "bloody show-off" under his breath.
"Which leads me to the topic which I wanted to touch on with you today," said Scott, getting serious. "What in the world were you thinking by keeping a majority of your fortune in one vault, and in bearer bonds, no less? Are you asking to be robbed, or what?"
Peter blanched and he asked Derek accusatoringly: "Did you tell him about our vaults?"
"No, I didn't!" protested Derek.
"Let me remind you, Peter, that I'm not the only one who knows, either," Scott interjected before they could continue to accuse one another. "It was you who revealed your family secrets to that girl in the hospital, Meredith, who also happens to be an unstable, half-mad Banshee with too much power at her disposal to make her even remotely trustworthy. So let me ask again: do you purposefully invite trouble? You know perfectly well that even though only a Hale can open the vault, that doesn't mean that you cannot be tricked, blackmailed or even kidnapped. There are many people out there who would happily cut off your hand for a hundred millions of dollars."
"You told our family secret to a crazy Banshee?" Derek asked Peter incredulously.
"I was mad with pain then, so please excuse me for not acting all reasonably at that time!" snapped Peter and turned to the teen. "Alright, Scott, I see your point, the vault has been compromised so I need to move the money elsewhere."
"Not just move it. You need to split it, and even better, diversify it," the young Alpha advised.
"What would you have me do, then, if you're so all-knowing?" growled Peter, clearly irritated. "Go on, let's hear what a piss-poor sixteen year old boy knows about managing money."
Derek drew a breath loudly in shock, looking at Scott with apprehension to see how he would react. But the teen kept looking at Peter calmly, refusing to be riled up by the obvious jab at his family’s financial standing.
"Look, bearer bonds are only good if the banks are up and running, and only as long as you're not fugitives from law. And believe me that this may not always be the case," he argued his point with a serious expression. "You should consider exchanging some bonds into cash, in various currencies, not only US dollars but also sterling pounds and japanese yens, for example. Acquiring some gold might not be amiss, either. Also, buy some real estate so that you have additional hideouts in case things go ugly here, under fake IDs if you can. And finally, since money loses its worth over time, invest at least some of it! There are so many options to choose from, treasury and corporate bonds, stock market, forex, precious metals, commodities… Hell, you could even invest in cryptocurrencies if you wish to go into an unregulated market. But whatever you do, diversify your portfolio of assets to mitigate the risks involved."
He finished his empassioned speech only to see both Hales looking at him with an obvious shock. He almost scoffed at that. He had lived a couple of years hiding and running away from authorities, he knew what could come in handy, so he was almost painfully aware how much having cash at his disposal AND some hideuts registered on different names would help enormously with that.
"I believe that I've just been given a lesson in wealth management from a boy half my age," said Peter, shaking his head in disbelief.
"Stop thinking about my physical age and start actually paying attention to what I do and say," said Scott sternly. "I'm not simply playing at being an Alpha werewolf, I'm the real thing, even if I am piss-poor, as you didn't hesitate to point out."
"I… shouldn't have said that," said Peter in lieu of an apology.
"You shouldn't have," confirmed Scott coldly. "I was not born into a wealthy family and I don't appreciate being judged for it. Please also consider the fact that when I took your Alpha powers away from you, I had the chance to drag your unconscious body to the vault, so I could have emptied it completely if I wanted to."
"Why didn't you?" asked Peter, folding his arms and looking at him with obvious apprehension.
"Because it's your and Derek's money, not mine. And you may laugh all you want at my morals, but I'm not a thief," explained Scott and he realized that his eyes were glowing with an angry red light, so he focused on letting go of his anger and disappointment. After all, in the grand scheme of things, Peter's pettiness and lack of trust were the least of his worries.
Derek, obviously having had enough of watching both of them arguing, came closer and put his hand on Scott's shoulder, caressing it lightly.
"You know that I would give you any money that you needed, right?" he asked. "Whatever I own, it's yours as well."
Scott looked at his bonded packmate in the eyes and sent a warm acknowledgement through their link, then embraced him tightly. "I would never ask anything of you unless I had no other option. It's your family legacy, after all," he murmured into the man's ear and hugged him one last time before stepping back.
"It's not like I have anyone else to leave the money to," said Derek bitterly, glowering at Peter, obviously remembering him murdering Laura. The older werewolf flinched at that, but didn't say anything in his defense.
"That is… not entirely true," Scott corrected him hesitantly.
"What do you mean?" asked Derek, then pressed when the teen remained silent: "Scott, what are you talking about?"
The young Alpha sighed heavily and admitted: "I know of two family members closely related to you both that are still alive."
Derek turned white as a sheet and swayed on his feet, so Scott helped him sit down on the closest piece of furniture, which happened to be a huge beige sofa. He knelt in front of the man, looking at him closely.
"I'm sorry Derek, I know that I should've said something sooner, but since it's also Peter's family… Both of you deserved to know, but I needed to make sure first that he's trustworthy enough to be told the truth," Scott explained.
Peter came closer to them and hesitantly sat down beside Derek. "Well, it's a miracle then that you're saying anything at all, since I only managed to belittle you today," he said to Scott, his tone regretful.
"Peter, it's fine, it's just words," Scott shrugged off his apology. "And before both of you shower me with questions, let me tell you that Cora is alive and to the best of my knowledge she's fine and healthy."
"My little sister Cora?" said Derek disbelievingly and Scott nodded. Seeing that, Derek turned to Peter and growled: "Don't you even think of hurting her as you did Laura."
"Believe me, it's the last thing on my mind," the man assured, putting his hands up. "I have no intention of hurting our family, well any further than I already did."
Derek growled at him one more time, for good measure, then turned to the young Alpha: “Do you know where she is?"
"Only that she’s left the country after the fire," admitted Scott. "I would advise against searching for her, though, and instead focus on growing the Hale pack again, so that the word of it spreads through the other packs. My guess is that as soon as she hears of it, she'll come looking for you herself. But it's your choice."
Derek closed his eyes for a moment, and Scott took his hands in his and squeezed them comfortingly, then asked in a small voice: "Will you forgive me for not telling you sooner?"
Derek opened his eyes and was silent for a moment, before he said: "I accepted your authority as an Alpha. You obviously have more knowledge about many things than I do, so I need to trust that you make the most informed decisions possible. So it seems to me that there's nothing to forgive."
Scott swallowed hard, humbled by the man's trust in him.
"Loath as I am to break your moment, you said that there are two alive family members that you know of. Who is the other one?" asked Peter.
The young Alpha stood up and started to pace nervously around the room. He wasn't entirely sure how many details he should disclose to the other werewolf. What if Peter wouldn't care for Malia, or even worse, what if he treated her as a possession rather than a living, feeling person with a difficult childhood no less? Was Peter ready for that kind of responsibility? He wasn't sure.
After a moment, he turned to Peter and asked: "What would you do if I told you that you're a father?..."
The other man laughed out loud, before realizing that Scott was serious. "I think I would have known that, thank you very much," he said, lifting his chin arrogantly. "Besides, the last six years were quite short on any kind of romance on my part, weren't they?"
"I'm not talking about the recent years, I'm talking about you having a teenage daughter, roughly about my age, maybe slightly younger."
Peter raised an eyebrow at that. "Well, it's not improbable, as I did have quite an adventurous past when it comes to women, but how in the world would you know about my kid if even I am not aware of it? And while we're at it, who is my alleged daughter's mother?"
"The Desert Wolf," Scott answered simply, watching various emotions flickering through the man's face. Whatever went through his head, it surely wasn't pretty, or easy.
***
He was a father.
He was a father .
It was inconceivable. Unthinkable.
He usually preferred to think about himself as someone capable of taking lives, not giving life to another living being. Having a child was such a foreign concept to him that he felt like he was surely being had, except for the fact that everything matched. The identity of his past lover, the timeframe provided by Scott, it all fell into place.
He had a teenage daughter of whom he knew nearly nothing about.
He quickly stood up and walked up to Scott, then asked him forcefully: "Who is she?"
But the young Alpha got this stubborn look on him which Peter had already learned to hate, as it signified something as stupid as the boy's morals and conscience getting the best of him.
"I'm not telling you anything until I'm sure that you have her best interest in mind," the teen said, and Peter instantly saw red. He gripped the boy's neck and squeezed it warningly, not choking him yet, but close enough. He didn't care if the whelp was an Alpha or even a God almighty, he was going to get his answers, and he was going to get them now .
His foolish nephew jumped up from the sofa but one gesture from Scott stopped him from interfering.
"Don't, Derek. This is between me and him," the teen croaked with an obvious difficulty. "If she back-talks to you, are you going to choke your daughter too, Peter?"
For a moment, Peter gripped the teen's neck tighter, almost crushing his throat, before through the haze of his anger he realized what Scott was trying to show him. He was volatile and aggressive, as he had just attacked the teen without any provocation whatsoever besides being denied the answers that he sought.
He let go of Scott's neck as if it burned him, and he looked at his own hands as if they weren't his own.
"I… No, I wouldn't… Would I?" he asked faintly.
Scott massaged his throat and looked at him with an unreadable expression on his face.
"I think that you have either lost or forgotten your anchor," he said, his voice harsh, but if it was due to being choked, or if he was simply being angry, Peter didn't know. "I already suspected it when you reacted so volatile to meeting Chris, but this confirms it. You first need to re-learn controlling yourself before I tell you anything about your kid. Is that understood?"
This was the Alpha speaking, as the voice held quiet authority that couldn’t be denied, and the wolf inside Peter finally submitted to it. Ever so slightly, he bared his throat to Scott and answered quietly: "Yes, Alpha."
Notes:
So, I thought about Liam's struggles with his temper, and realized that Peter's got some anger management issues of his own that he needs to work through. Hence, this chapter.
And yes, Cora being alive and Malia's existence finally get revealed! I'm super excited! :)
Chapter 39
Notes:
Some angst, a lot of fluff, because honestly? I can't write anything without fluff to save my life, truly.
Enjoy!
Chapter Text
Seeing Peter baring his throat caused Scott's pulse to quicken. While his human self was discomfited by the sight, the wolf inside him was pleased by the open submission shown by the older man. He might be in complete, total control of himself but he did have an animal spirit inside of him, and nothing could change that.
He came closer to the man and put his fingers on Peter's chin to tilt it up and look him in the eyes.
"While it's a pleasing sight, I don't really need such gestures from you," he said calmly but sternly. "I'd rather you worked on your erratic behaviour instead, because it's quite worrying to see you switching from amicable to aggressive in a blink of an eye."
Peter just nodded, strangely silent. It was quite unlike him not to offer any sarcastic comment in reply, so Scott was instantly worried.
"Hey, everything’s alright? Do you need anything?" he asked, concerned.
Peter looked away from him for a moment, then asked quietly, almost timidly: "Is becoming a part of your pack still on offer?"
"Of course," Scott assured him calmly. "Us having an argument is not going to change that. Why, are you considering it?" he asked, hopefully. Peter might be a complete and utter bastard at times, but he was also family and Scott couldn't imagine his pack without him.
"I… I might be closer to becoming an Omega than I suspected," the older werewolf admitted with a frown on his face. "These mood swings, they're not normal and it worries me that I didn't even notice that something was amiss. It turns out that I might need a pack bond, after all," the man said with a hint of shame in his voice, as if needing anyone other than himself was a major character flaw.
"I don't want you to make a rash decision which you will come to regret later. Just, think about it for a couple of days and let me know what you’ve decided, alright?" Scott suggested.
He didn't want Peter to become a part of the pack just as a means to an end, he wanted him to be invested in it, to truly belong to their group. Any other motivation wouldn't last long and sooner or later will become an issue, which he would like to avoid at all costs.
The man nodded, then asked: "How's your throat?"
Scott smiled wryly and asked: "Is this your roundabout way of apologizing for nearly strangling me?"
"… It might be," Peter admitted after a moment.
"It's alright," the teen assured him. "Now, I'm going to ask Derek to drive me home, because frankly speaking, this was not the easiest conversation and right now I just wish to go home. Will you be fine by yourself?"
"I'll try not to go into a homicidal rage the moment you're gone, if that's what you mean," the man said with a sardonic smile and Scott couldn't help it, he beamed at him, glad that his sarcastic, self-assured Peter was back, as he hated seeing him subdued or unsure of himself.
"That's the spirit!" he said approvingly.
They said their goodbyes, or rather Scott and Peter did, while Derek kept looking at his uncle frostily but thankfully not to the point of attacking him.
When they were in Derek's car, his former Beta finally broke the silence and asked him with disbelief: "You can't be seriously considering this! He just attacked you, do you really want to welcome him into the pack as if nothing happened?"
The young Alpha sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Derek, if it was you who made a mistake, would you rather I was forgiving and wanted you to be my packmate still, or do you think I should have rejected you?"
Derek gritted his teeth and muttered almost petulantly: "It's not the same."
"But it is," Scott disagreed. "I know that Peter has the potential to be both a backstabbing traitor, as well as a loyal friend. I'd like to believe that with a strong pack bond helping to ground him, he will become the latter rather than the former."
In his previous life Peter had proved to be both, at the end settling at being a somewhat reluctant packmate and a valuable ally, but not before causing so much pain and chaos that most of their pack had still been distrustful of him for a long time afterwards. This time around, he would rather avoid having Peter as an enemy if possible, not because he was afraid of him, but because an internal conflict was the last thing that they needed.
"Fine. But if it all blows down in your face later, don't tell me that I didn't warn you," Derek said, folding his arms stubbornly.
"If it will, it's going to be my own fault, no one else's," Scott confirmed. "But please remember that ultimately, Peter's family. If he needs this, if he needs being a part of the pack to get better, then I'm not going to refuse him."
Derek just shook his head, exasperated. However, when they arrived at Scott’s home, he got out of the car and gave the teen a heartfelt, almost desperate hug as he murmured into his ear: "Thank you for not giving up on him, on us."
"Never," Scott promised, hugging him back, their bond vibrating with warmth, gratitude and acceptance.
***
That evening, Allison was eating dinner with her parents when her mother decided to drop a bomb on her.
"What do you mean, I can't go to the Winter Formal?" the girl asked disbelievingly.
"Exactly what I said, you're not going to the ball," Victoria said, pressing her lips into a thin line.
Allison couldn't understand it. Just yesterday she had been gossiping with Lydia about who was going with whom, and the girls fantasized about the dress they intended to buy for the occasion. Now, it felt as if all her teenage dreams were crushed just because her mother said so, not even providing a valid reason for it.
"But, why?..." Allison asked, not certain if she felt angry or miserable, or both.
Victoria looked at Chris for help, and the man said reluctantly: "Because there's going to be a full moon on the night of the ball."
This was obviously not the type of assistance Victoria expected, as she protested, enraged: "Chris, you can't just-"
"What, say the truth? Reveal anything about our occupation?" he said coldly, with an equal fury. "Too bad Allison already knows about it and I'm sick and tired of us lying to her all the time. If you want to forbid her to go to the ball then at least have the guts to come clean to her about your reasons."
Victoria looked at them both, her mouth agape in shock. "You told her? You go too far…!"
"Mom, it's not his fault, I overheard your conversation with aunt Kate," Allison interjected, hating to see her dad being falsely blamed. "He only explained what I already heard. But I don't understand what that's got to do with the ball?"
Her mother frowned at her. "I know that this may come off as a shock to you, but one of your classmates is a werewolf," she explained, trying to come off as patient but looking anything but.
"I know," Allison said simply. "But I'm not going with him, so what's the problem?"
Victoria looked at her, astounded. "You know about Scott? And you're still friends with him?"
"Of course I am, he's been a great friend so far," Allison confirmed with a steely glint in her eyes. "Why would I stop liking him just because he's a werewolf? I'm not a racist. Are you?"
Her mother blanched at hearing the accusation, then snapped: "I will not tolerate back-talk from you. He's a dangerous beast and if he's going to be at that ball, you're staying at home. Is that clear?"
"Everything's clear, mother. You think that you're protecting me, while in reality you're just nursing your own prejudice and bigotry. Now please excuse me, I need to call Lydia and tell her that I'll not be going to Macy's this weekend to buy a new dress," Allison said in a shaking voice, standing abruptly and going to her room without waiting for her parents' approval.
Once she closed the door behind her, she lay down on her bed, curling into a tight ball and hugging her pillow in misery.
She had always had a hard time adjusting to new schools since she was changing them on a regular basis, but here in Beacon Hills she had finally found people who liked her and wanted to be friends with her. From the very first day she had been instantly welcomed and invited first to Lydia's group, and then to Scott's. Maybe too soon she had allowed herself to feel hopeful that maybe this time she could be just a regular teenage girl, enjoying going out with her friends and dancing at the ball with handsome boys. But clearly, her mother didn't agree with that.
She heard knocking and her father calling her name worriedly.
"Come in," she said, her voice uneven due to emotional turmoil and the suppressed tears.
Her dad came in and pulled her into a hug, kissing her temple.
"It'll be alright, sweetheart," he said to her. "You're going to that ball, even if I'll have to go with you to guard you."
She giggled despite herself, imagining trying to dance with a boy with her dad looming above them.
"Dad, the whole point of the ball is to be there without parental supervision," she said, rolling her eyes. "But thank you for offering."
"I mean it,” her father said seriously. “I know how important it is to you, so we're going to find a way for you to attend the ball, despite it being a full moon."
And just like that, she was reminded why she didn’t get to be a regular teenage girl, after all.
"Dad, do you really believe that Scott would attack anyone?" she asked, wiggling out of his arms and looking at him seriously.
He sighed and said: "No, I don't. I truly think that he's trustworthy and that he wouldn't ever knowingly hurt anyone. But accidents happen, especially when hormone-driven teenagers are involved and I don’t want you to be anywhere near if that happens."
Allison frowned but couldn't find any argument to counter that.
Chapter 40
Notes:
Since Peter's pondering over his place in Scott's pack, for a moment we'll change POV to Liam.
Enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Liam was sitting in the principal's office, and realized that he was in Deep Trouble, capital letters fully intended. He was already on probation due to various fights and arguments he had recently gotten into, and he was aware that his next offense might lead to suspension, or if it was serious enough, even expulsion.
The problem was, this time he wasn't the one who had started the fight. In fact, he had tried to avoid it altogether, knowing perfectly well that if he stepped out of the line there would be serious consequences. He had mostly managed to keep his cool until that girl's older brother had thrown himself at him, and then he had no choice but to fight back.
But of course, knowing his temper and his previous offences, the headmistress had automatically assumed that he was the instigator.
"I'm sorry, but it appears that your mother has a business meeting at the moment, and your stepfather is in the middle of surgery,” she said. “Is there anyone else you would like me to call before we start discussing your punishment?"
Liam swallowed heavily, fighting tears of frustration. It wasn't fair to be the scapegoat just because of his less than stellar reputation. His parents will be disappointed with him, and might even decide that his meetings with Scott must come to an end, and he would hate that.
Wait, Scott would surely believe him! Feeling his hope rising, Liam asked the principal: "Could you call Scott McCall, please?"
The woman frowned and asked: "Is he a family member of yours?"
"No ma'am, but he's a really close family friend, and if I could name anyone a guardian beside my parents, it would be him," said Liam honestly.
"Very well. Give me his phone number and I'll ask him to come."
"Thank you!" Liam said with gratitude, happy that he will have someone at his side, supporting him.
The next half an hour was the most excruciating time he recalled in a very long time. He pulled nervously at the hem of his t-shirt and fidgeted in his seat every couple of minutes, so when the door opened and Scott came in, he couldn't help but to launch himself at him, clinging to the older teen in desperation.
"Hey kid, it's alright, I've got you," Scott murmured into his hair, embracing him for a moment then stepped away, looking at the headmistress.
"Thank you for calling me, I appreciate it," he said in lieu of a greeting.
"You're welcome, but aren't you too young to be acting as a guardian for Liam?" the woman asked sceptically.
"I assure you, Liam's parents trust me with their son's well-being, so since both of them are unavailable, I'm going to be acting in loco parentis for the time being. However, if you have any doubts about my qualifications, I'll be happy to wait here until either David or Jenna are available. But I won't allow Liam to have no support during any kind of a disciplinary discussion," Scott said sternly, straightening his back, his whole posture screaming self-confidence which immediately made him look older than just a moment before.
This seemed to do the trick, as the headmistress nodded. "Very well, please sit down, both of you. It's not going to be a long discussion, as we just need to agree on terms of Liam's suspension due to his fight with another student."
Liam started to protest, but one look from Scott silenced him. He deflated, despairing that the teen didn't even want to hear his side of the story, but then Scott placed his hand on his shoulders, rubbing it comfortingly. Liam immediately relaxed, trusting that no matter what happens, Scott would have his back.
"I don't see anyone else here, though. Were they punished already?" asked Scott sitting down and gesturing to Liam to do the same.
"Mr Talbot was only defending his sister so he's obviously not going to be punished in the same manner, but we will have a talk with his guardian, of course," the principal said dismissively, obviously thinking that was the end of it, but Scott shook his head.
"I would like to hear from them what has actually happened. In fact, I insist on it," he said, then seeing as the woman hesitated, he added: "Surely this is not an unusual or unfair request?"
The woman grimaced, obviously not happy with how the discussion progressed but not finding any reason to deny his request. As she went to fetch the siblings, Scott turned to Liam and asked quietly: "You know that you can tell me anything, right? I won't be angry, as long as you’re truthful. So tell me please, did you instigate the fight?"
"I didn't, I swear! I did the breathing exercises that you taught me and I was doing well until Brett threw the first punch. I really was trying to avoid getting into trouble," Liam assured the older teen, feeling his lips wobbling and hating himself for being so weak and emotional.
Scott took his hand in his and squeezed it gently. "Hey, I believe you, so don't worry. I won't let them suspend you for defending yourself."
Liam sniffled, feeling overwhelmed by the sheer relief he felt at hearing that. Scott held his hand tighter, only letting go once they heard the footsteps outside the room.
When Brett and Lori came in, they immediately stiffened at seeing an unfamiliar person sitting next to Liam, and they looked at each other with a strange look which Liam couldn't quite decipher. There was an apprehension there, an uncertainty, and was it...fear? No, he was surely mistaken, since that would make little to no sense. Scott was the last person anyone would be afraid of, right?
"Brett, Lorilee, this young man here is acting on behalf of Liam's parents and wants to hear from you what happened," the headmistress stated, looking at the siblings.
Brett launched into a tale how he had witnessed Liam threatening his sister and how he had been viciously attacked once he came to her rescue. He looked every inch an innocent victim, but Lori kept shooting him uncertain glances, biting her lower lip nervously every now and then.
"Now that everything has been explained, let us…" the headmistress started, but Scott raised his hand, interrupting her.
"May I address Brett directly, please? I have one request for him."
The woman pressed her lips into a thin line but nodded.
"Brett, I know the meaning of your… family motto. In the spirit of Satomi's teachings, I'll pretend that I didn't hear the previous version of the events and I'll allow you to tell your tale again, this time the truth, please," Scott said calmly, looking at the boy expectantly.
The boy blanched and his sister said pleadingly: "Brett, please, just tell them what really happened."
"Lorilee, are you suggesting that your brother's version of events isn't accurate?" the headmistress asked disbelievingly.
The girl nodded, then started speaking quietly, her voice breaking every now and then. "I was playing lacrosse with Liam and we were having a great time, but my brother doesn't- well, they don't get along, so he came to us and demanded that Liam left the field. When Liam didn't agree, insisting that anyone could be on the field when there was no match or practice scheduled, Brett… hit him," Lori admitted in a small voice. "I know that he shouldn't have done that, he was just overly protective of me…"
"Is that true, Brett?" the woman asked sternly.
"Yes, headmistress," the boy mumbled, looking at his shoes. "I'm sorry."
"I can't believe that you lied to me about this! Are you aware that Liam almost got suspended because of it?" the woman pressed.
That caused Brett to look up in shock as he said: "I didn't- I thought that he was only going to be lectured, or get detention at most, I swear!"
The headmistress just shook her head in obvious disappointment, then turned to Scott and Liam.
"Liam, you have my sincere apologies for believing in the false accusations against you. Mr McCall, thank you for insisting on getting to the bottom of this. I assure you that Mr Talbot will be suitably punished for starting a fight and for lying about it to my face twice," the woman assured, looking livid.
The siblings looked at each other in terror, and Liam didn't understand why. Surely they didn't expect their punishment to be that harsh?
"If I may, would it be out of place of me to ask for a bit of leniency on Brett's behalf?" Scott asked suddenly, surprising everyone in the room. "I don't mean for him to be let go without any punishment, just that it's nothing excessive."
The headmistress looked moved by the request and nodded. "Of course, Mr McCall, though I admit that most guardians would actually insist on the punishment being harsher if their ward was the victim."
"I strongly believe that escalation of conflict should always be avoided, if possible," the teen explained. "I know that Liam had some behavioral issues in the past but I'm trying to teach him that aggression is never a good solution to any problem, so I simply try to practice what I preach."
"Well said! Liam's parents certainly chose their replacement well. It was a pleasure meeting you," the headmistress offered her hand which Scott shook without hesitation.
Liam was amazed. The woman was well-known for her unrelenting stance and zero tolerance for any kind of unwarranted familiarity. She was even called a doberman behind her back, and here she was, talking amicably with a man much younger than herself, and treating him as an equal. It was unheard of, and yet Liam knew that if anyone could soften her so, it was Scott.
"Likewise. Feel free to call me anytime they're unavailable," the teen offered with an easy-going smile as he stood up, Liam following his lead.
"Brett, Lori, I hope that next time we'll meet under better circumstances," Scott said and the siblings clutched at each other, not saying anything, just nodding timidly.
The moment they left the principal's office, Liam hugged Scott tightly. "Thank you for coming, and for believing in me.”
“Of course,” the older teen said, hugging him back. “Just please, be always honest with me, alright? I’ll always prefer the truth, no matter how harsh, to lies.”
“I promise,” Liam murmured.
He knew that with Scott, he didn’t have to lie. He had the feeling that the older teen would still like him no matter what, that he was the only person in the whole world who just accepted him as he was.
Even his parents put their expectations on him, and while they were doing it out of love and concern, it was still emotionally draining for Liam to be always expected to do better. With Scott, he got the impression that while the older teen wanted him to learn dealing with his emotions better, any slip happening along the way would be perceived by him as a part of the learning process rather than a complete failure. It was liberating, to be allowed to make mistakes without feeling guilty at the mere possibility of it.
“Do you have any lessons left today?” Scott asked as he stepped back from their embrace and Liam shook his head in response. “OK then, I believe that after everything that happened today, you deserve a treat. If you’re hungry, we can order some pizza. Or if you don’t feel like eating, we could get some ice cream, instead.”
“Could we have both?” Liam asked, blushing with embarrassment.
“Oh yes, I forgot that boys your age could eat everything and anything,” Scott moaned exaggeratedly.
Liam wanted to protest against such an accusation when he realized that it was actually true, so he only grumbled petulantly: “No need to rub it in.”
Scott’s only response to that was a good-natured chuckle.
As they left the school, Liam felt completely at ease, any hurt and anger from the fight with Brett already forgotten.
Notes:
Yessss, first meeting with Satomi's pack (though she herself will enter the story a couple of chapters later).
Also, I used 'principal' and 'headmistress' interchangeably since I don't know if there's a female version of 'principal' and I needed to use some synonyms to avoid repeating myself. Hope you don't mind.
Chapter 41
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Dr Geyer cleaned his hands methodically, the chirurgical routine drilled into him to the point that he didn't need to focus on the movements and he could allow his thoughts to wander. He had just performed a long, complicated surgery that while successful as far he could tell, had taken its toll both on the patient who was still being kept in a pharmacological coma, and also on the whole team assisting with the operation.
He was already drained and tired to the bone, so when he was told that Liam's school had called when he had been performing the surgery he almost groaned in frustration. He didn't have the strength or patience to deal with whatever trouble his son had probably gotten into, but if something bad had actually happened to his boy, he needed to know. Also, Jenna had an important meeting with her company board members this afternoon, so he knew that she would have been unavailable as well.
Once he took off his medical uniform and was ready to finish his shift, he took out his phone and called the principal. They had been in contact with each other so often due to various troubles Liam had gotten into over the years, that he had her number saved on his mobile phone already.
"Hello Mrs Gale, I apologize for not being able to call you back sooner," he greeted, hoping that he sounded better than he actually felt.
"Dr Geyer, a pleasure to hear back from you," the headmistress greeted back, her voice unusually warm and pleasant, so David breathed with relief that whatever the reason for her calling him was, it couldn't be that bad. "Please don't apologize, I know that in your line of work it's not always possible to answer the phone. Also, Scott was able to come in your stead so I'm happy to say that the issue has already been dealt with."
David was astonished, to say the least. The school had called Scott? How had they managed to get his phone number, and even more importantly, how had they known about his existence in the first place?
"You mean Scott McCall?" he asked, just to avoid any misunderstandings.
"That's right, Liam asked me to call Scott when you and your wife couldn't be reached. He told me that he was a family friend. Is it not the case?" the woman asked, worriedly.
"No, that's fine, Scott is really close to Liam so I'm not really surprised that Liam asked for him to be present," David admitted.
Even though it was surprising that the school had called a minor rather than an adult but David had a suspicion that Liam wasn't forthcoming about that little fact.
"I'm glad to hear it. I must admit that Scott managed to impress me greatly, he's really astute and composed for someone looking so young!" the woman gushed and David almost couldn't believe that he was talking to the same austere woman that he was used to. "And he's been a good influence on Liam, I can tell that already, seeing as your son didn't lose his temper even though he was falsely accused of attacking a fellow student. But please, rest assured that with Scott's assistance we managed to have it all clarified in no time."
"That's… good," David finally managed to say, he was so dumbfounded. "Do you need my presence for anything?"
"There's no need for that, but thank you for offering. However, if after talking with Liam and Scott you would still have any questions, please feel free to call me," the headmistress offered and said her goodbyes.
David disconnected absentmindedly, trying to wrap his head around the fact that his son's principal had called a teenager to act in capacity of Liam's guardian, and even so, it not only hadn't resulted in a complete disaster, but was a total success from what he was able to discern from their short conversation.
As he was leaving the hospital, he saw Melissa McCall talking over the phone with the same flabbergasted expression that he was sporting just a few minutes ago. He came up to her just as she finished the conversation.
"Were you talking with Scott, by any chance?" he asked, a knowing look on his face.
"Yes, he told me that he just had some kind of a parent-teacher meeting at Liam's school. How's that even possible?" she asked incredulously.
"Apparently, Liam asked for him when the school couldn't reach neither myself nor Jenna," David admitted. "Do you know if Scott is still with Liam at the moment?" He hoped that they were, since he would like to talk with both of them at the same time.
"Yes, they're both at your place," Melissa confirmed.
"Do you wish to drive to my house to fetch him or are you alright with me giving him a lift later?" he suggested. "I'd like to hear what they discussed with Liam's principal."
"That's understandable, so feel free to drive him home once you're done talking. But, aren't you angry at Scott for taking over something that's clearly a parent's responsibility? I can forbid him from seeing Liam if that's what you wish," the woman said, clearly uncomfortable with the whole situation.
David shook his head. "I don't know what to feel, but please believe me that anger at Scott is definitely the last on that list. From what I understood, he managed to save my son from being falsely accused of attacking another student and charmed Liam's headmistress in the process, and let me tell you, before today I would have sworn that that woman couldn't be charmed by anything or anyone. So if you don't mind it yourself, please allow the boys to remain friends.”
If he was being honest with himself, he was feeling a myriad of emotions at the moment, the most notable was confusion, gratitude and… shame. He was Liam's stepfather, for crying out loud, he was supposed to be the one being there for him, protecting him and offering support in situations such as these. That someone else had had to fill these shoes because he had been unable to, it was jarring, to say the least. But if that meant that Liam was safe, then David was going to swallow his bitterness and the feeling of inadequacy, and not show anything of it to the boys.
"As long as you're fine with their friendship, then so am I," Melissa stated. "Well, it's definitely the time for me to leave. Take care, and bring my son home once you're done talking with him, alright?"
"Will do. Bye, Melissa."
He drove in a daze, thankfully not causing any accidents. When he entered the house, he saw the boys in the kitchen, Scott taking pizza out from the oven and Liam maneuvering the plates in one hand while grabbing ketchup from the fridge.
"Try not to drop anything, kiddo," he heard Scott's warning, and then the teen turned around to say to him: "Hi Dr Geyer, we've just heated up the pizza for you, do you want some?"
"Gladly, I'm starving," he admitted, taking off his coat and shoes then going to the bathroom to wash his hands. When he finally sat down in his favourite armchair, a plate in his hand, he felt his emotional turmoil from before fading away. This scene, the boys busing themselves in the kitchen and acting so comfortable around him and each other, it was such a domestic sight that remaining stressed was nearly impossible.
"I heard that you two have quite a tale to tell," he said once they finished eating.
While the boys were talking about what had happened, he observed them closely, the way Liam looked up at Scott for approval and how the older teen showed his support by patting his son's shoulders or ruffling his hair playfully, immediately causing Liam to relax. Seeing all that made him slightly jealous of the closeness they shared, but he wasn't going to begrudge them that.
"So, how did you know that this kid, Brett, was lying?" he asked Scott at some point.
"Liam told me that he didn't instigate the fight, and I knew that he wouldn't lie to me," the teen said as if it explained everything, and in a way, it did. Scott apparently trusted Liam's word, and if the obvious adoration in his son’s eyes was any indication, not without reason.
“And how did you manage to get them to actually tell the truth?” he asked, honestly curious.
“When I heard their surnames, it reminded me that I know their guardian, well not in person, but I heard about her a lot,” Scott explained. “Satomi Ito is a Buddhist and her family motto is a Buddhist quote: Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon and the truth. I knew that she must have instilled the same values in her wards and that either Brett or Lori would admit to the truth sooner or later.”
David was amazed at the teen’s unexpected knowledge, when a sudden suspicion arose in his mind. “Scott, you’re not a part of any sect, are you?” he asked.
It would actually explain a lot of things, including Scott’s unusual engagement and willingness to go above and beyond to help Liam. This could be just a recruitment technique, and the mere thought caused him to be instantly on alert.
The teen sobered instantly as he answered carefully: “No, I mean, not in the religious sense. I am a part of a group of people from various backgrounds who support each other, but it doesn’t have anything to do with cult, religion, or anything of that sort.”
David straightened, his concerns at least partially confirmed. “And did you approach Liam to get him into this… group of yours, as you said?” he asked cautiously.
“I- gosh, it’s complicated. I hope that he will, but my friendship or offer of help was never in any way dependent on that. I’m here for Liam, everything else is secondary to that,” Scott assured him, his arm still curled protectively around the smaller boy’s shoulders. “Besides, the day I met Liam, I told him that I need your approval if we were to become friends, and I stand by it. I never wanted to do anything behind your and your wife’s backs, you know. So if you no longer feel comfortable with having me around, I’ll understand and won’t bother you again.”
“What? No, you can’t!” Liam protested vehemently. “So what, you have a group of friends who I haven’t even met, how’s that important?”
“I know that to you, it seems ludicrous, but your dad’s right in being vigilant about this kind of a threat. Cults and sects are really dangerous and they usually target people who are stressed or emotionally vulnerable,” Scott explained calmly. “So you see, the fact that he’s suspicious actually proves that he’s a good parent.”
David felt touched by the fact that the teen thought so highly of him. If Scott’s openness and honesty was an elaborate recruiting method, then it was working amazingly well, even on him.
“Dad, tell him that we can still meet!” Liam demanded, his voice breaking in the middle. “I really feel that I can control myself better since he’s started helping me.”
David frowned. That was the undeniable truth, Liam did seem more calm and centered since Scott had started mentoring him. However, what worried him the most was that Liam seemed unusually dependent on the older teen, to the point that the mere thought of being separated from him caused him stress and anxiety, the current discussion being a prime example of that.
“Liam, don’t pressure your dad on this, he needs to make a decision on his own,” Scott chided Liam, squeezing his shoulder gently to soften his words. “Come on, let’s open that ice cream bucket that I promised you and leave your dad to his thoughts without us pestering him.”
“But-” Liam instantly stopped protesting at seeing Scott raising his eyebrow at him. “Alright, alright, going.”
The boys went to the kitchen, Liam still visibly stressed, but gradually relaxing in Scott’s presence as they mockingly fought over who was going to eat which flavour. Liam grumbled that vanilla was his, had always been his, and his parents knew better than to come between him and vanilla ice cream as he was ready to fight to death to have it. Scott just laughed at that and said that if he had any doubts that Liam was spoiled rotten, this would just prove it. Liam protested that no way, he was not spoiled, how could Scott even think that?...
David sighed. As he started to realize, Scott was right, again. Liam was spoiled, him being an only child didn’t help any. But at the same time, he didn’t have that many friends, Mason being a notable exception, and he knew that his son often felt lonely and disconnected from other kids. Was this why Liam had taken so quickly to Scott, he wondered, was this his roundabout way of gaining an older brother, unusual as the method was? If that was the case, then breaking their bond would be cruel, and David didn’t feel like causing his son undue stress, not if he could avoid it.
Decision made, he joined the boys in the kitchen and told them to budge over as he grabbed a spoon of his own.
“Does it mean that Scott can stay?” asked Liam hopefully, looking at him with his best attempt at puppy eyes.
“He may,” allowed David with an indulgent smile.
“Thanks, dad!” the boy beamed at him with happiness. “You know, you can eat my vanilla ice cream if you want to, I won’t mind.”
And will wonders never cease, his son just learned to share , even though it took him a mere fourteen years instead of the usual four.
Notes:
I had so much fun writing this chapter, especially David thinking that Scott was a cultist on a recruitment mission. I mean, it would make sense, wouldn't it?
Thankfully, we know that Scott's only a werewolf trying to form his pack, nothing nefarious about that ;)
Chapter Text
The next day Liam went to school feeling calmer than he'd had in quite a long time, probably due to the fact that he felt that the headmistress would be now more inclined to hear his side of the story if anything happened. It would be good to be heard and not to be judged by his past actions, he realized.
As he met with Mason, he greeted him with a quick, one-armed hug, which caused his friend to look at him with surprise. Uh-huh, apparently Scott's habit to offer physical contact whenever possible had rubbed off of him without him noticing.
"Are you alright? How did that meeting with the principal go?" Mason asked, adjusting the backpack on his shoulders.
"Better than expected, actually," Liam answered. "My parents were unavailable, but I asked the headmistress if Scott could come instead, and she agreed."
"But isn't he underage still?" Mason asked dubiously.
"Well, she didn't ask about his age so it's not like I had to tell her that, right?" Liam said with a wink.
His friend shook his head incredulously. "It seems that this guy can wiggle his way in wherever he wants to. Was he of any help?"
Liam sighed as he was reminded that Mason was still mistrustful of Scott’s motives. "Look, I know that you don't like Scott, but he managed to convince Mrs Gale to get Brett and Lori to repeat their story to him and he called them out on their lies. Lori quickly caved in and admitted that it was her brother who hit me, not the other way around. Speaking of the devil…" he muttered under his breath as he saw the siblings walking in their direction.
"Dunbar, Hewitt," Brett greeted them coldly, his sister trailing after him hesitantly.
Liam folded his arms and said: "Look Talbot, I don't want to get into trouble, so just leave us alone."
"I'm not- I just meant to ask how do you know Scott McCall?" Brett asked with a frown on his face. "I can tell that you're not a member of his pack."
His pack? That sounded ominous. Liam wondered if they meant the mysterious group that Scott belonged to, and if that was the case, how could they tell that he wasn't in it? Were there any signs or secret gestures that he was supposed to know if he was an insider?
"I'm not in his pack yet but Scott told me that he wanted me to be. I haven't decided yet, though," he bluffed, trying to sound as if he knew what he was talking about.
"I'm sorry, we didn't know," said Lori apologetically.
"We don't want to get into trouble with another pack, especially since Beacon Hills is not our territory," Brett added. "We're going to leave you be from now on."
Once the siblings left, Mason gripped his arm and hissed: "What on earth was that?"
"I have no idea," Liam answered honestly, scratching his neck in confusion. "I know that Scott is a part of some group, so it appears that they are as well? Do you think that they meant street gangs, or something like that? They sounded awfully territorial," he speculated with an excited gleam in his eyes.
"That's just our luck, getting involved with gangsters!" moaned Mason. "If I die because of this, I'm never going to forgive you for getting me into trouble in the first place!"
Liam just patted his arm consolingly. "Don't worry, I'm sure that our imagination is just running wild and that the truth is actually quite boring. They're probably just sport fans or members of LARP communities, nothing more."
Mason didn't look convinced, so Liam let him mope a little bit and decided to text Scott after classes to see if the teen would shed some light on this secret group of his. Whatever it was, it couldn't be worse than their speculations, right?
***
Scott was just gathering his things from the desk after the last class when he received a message from Liam. When he read it, he dropped his open backpack to the floor from the shock, causing all his things to fall out with a loud clatter.
"McCall, have you lost your wits or what? Get your things and get out, some of us want to leave," Finstock grumbled, watching him impatiently as he gathered his stuff from the floor.
Isaac rolled his eyes and knelt down to help him while Stiles guffawed loudly.
Once they were done and they left the classroom, Isaac asked: "What in the world was that? I thought that werewolves were supposed to have great reflexes."
"... Liam just texted me asking if I was a mobster," explained Scott in a strangled voice.
Isaac sniggered at that, as Stiles asked, confused: "Who's Liam and why would he think that?"
"He's the son of my mom's colleague, dr Geyer," Scott explained. "I befriended the kid recently, but I don't know where he got this ridiculous idea from."
"Well, it's not as stupid as it sounds," Stiles said after a moment. "Think about this: if you're a leader of your pack, doesn't that make you a werewolf equivalent of mafia boss?"
Scott looked at him speechless, while Isaac sniggered even louder, wiping tears of amusement from his eyes.
"Both of you, you're horrible, awful friends. I don't know why I even keep you around," Scott grumbled.
"For my great physique and charming personality?" suggested Isaac.
"As for me, I'm guessing it's due to my unparalleled intelligence and unmatched skills at deduction and investigation," piqued Stiles, puffing out his chest proudly.
Scott just shook his head, exasperated.
"I could also add great sex to the list," Isaac said with a wink and Scott pulled him into a kiss, enjoying seeing the playful side of his boyfriend. It quickly turned heated and he barely heard Stiles saying goodbye and making a hasty retreat, obviously not wanting to witness them making out.
Scott buried his fingers in Isaac's hair and deepened the kiss, feeling the boy's tremble as he pressed into him with his whole body. "You're so hot I could do you right here and now," he whispered into Isaac's ear, then sucked on his neck, causing him to moan quietly.
"Scott, stop it, people are watching," Isaac protested weakly, even though his whole body arched into the touch.
“Damn, you’re right,” murmured Scott, then kissed him again, but this time it was gentle, aimed to soothe and calm down rather than entice.
When they pulled away from each other, they were both breathless and looking slightly ruffled, but seeing the pleased smile on Isaac’s face made Scott ridiculously happy. He circled his boyfriend loosely with one arm, and kissed him on the cheek for good measure.
“I feel that with everything that’s been happening lately, you know, the werewolf stuff and all, I haven't been spending as much time with you as I would like to,” he admitted softly. “And since it’s doubtful that’s going to change anytime soon, I just want you to know that being together means a lot to me, even though I probably don’t show it as often as you deserve.”
Isaac blushed and ducked his head, slightly embarrassed at the attention.
“It’s alright, I knew what I was getting into, especially you having to divide your attention between everything and everyone who needs you,” the boy assured, though there was a hint of underlying sadness beneath his acceptance.
Scott shook his head in protest, because that wasn’t alright at all. It wasn’t fair to Isaac that he had to accept that the pack would always be the first priority to Scott. That’s why he wanted him to become a werewolf in the first place, but he wasn’t going to pressure his boyfriend into anything he wasn’t comfortable with.
“I promise I’ll always try to make it up to you afterwards if I ever need to spend more time with my pack, deal?” he offered, instead.
“Deal,” Isaac confirmed, taking hold of his hand possessively and intertwining their fingers together.
***
Later in the evening, when they were both at home, Scott sent a message to Liam: I'm not a mobster, but the idea has some merit. Maybe I need to rethink my life choices ;)
Liam quickly wrote back: Scott, I'm serious here! Brett asked me today if I was a part of your pack. What does that even mean?
Well, there went all the secrecy. Scott bit his lip for a moment, wondering how much to reveal. On one hand, he didn't want to tell Liam about the supernatural world so soon. On the other, it was bound to happen sooner or later, and he preferred being the one to reveal his werewolf status to the boy rather than allow someone else to do it.
He decided to talk with LIam over the phone instead of writing him back.
“Hey kiddo, I thought it would be better to call rather than write back and forth,” he explained.
“Hi Scott! That’s fine, ” the boy answered, sounding slightly nervous.
“I know that I’ve been kinda mysterious lately, but it’s nothing illegal, alright?” he assured Liam. “Hell, I’ve known Sheriff Stilinski for half of my life since he’s my best friend’s dad, so getting involved with the mafia is definitely out of the question.”
“Okay, I believe you. But you’re not going to tell me more, are you?” the boy asked, disappointed.
“Not yet, and certainly not over the phone, but I will tell you all about it, eventually,” he promised. “I know that within a few months you’ll have to pick a high school, and I wouldn’t want you to do that without knowing everything that’s been going on.”
“Does it mean that you’d like me to go to the same school as you?” Liam asked, sounding tentatively hopeful.
“Of course I would!” Scott assured wholeheartedly. “But I know that your parents want you to go to a private school, so that’s a discussion for another time.”
“I know, they’ve been singing praises about Devenford Prep all the time,” Liam grumbled, obviously not convinced.
“They care about your future, that’s what parents do, you know,” Scott reminded him gently. “So, we’re good?”
“We’re good. And thank you for calling me. I… I think I needed it,” Liam admitted.
“Kid, feel free to text or call me anytime you want,” Scott offered. “I may not always answer straight away, but I’ll always call you back.”
He must’ve embarrassed Liam, because the boy said good night with a slight stutter and disconnected abruptly. After a moment Scott received a message, though.
Thank you, Liam texted simply.
Chapter 43
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Walking the line had never been Peter's forte, he was perfectly aware of that. He knew well enough what was socially acceptable, he just didn't care to adhere to it. His actions had been often called immoral, but he'd rather say that he had his own set of ethics, and if it had nothing to do with what was widely considered moral, well, he certainly wasn't going to lose his sleep over it, right?
At least, that's what he had thought until he had finally crossed the line that should have never been crossed, and that was killing one of his blood, his pack, his family, for something so pointless and fleeting as power. He knew that he was power hungry at heart, but he had never realized how much until that very moment, but even then he would be fine with it if it was actually worth the sacrifice. It was a painful realization that it hadn't been worth it at all.
And now, when he had lost everything that ever held meaning to him, including the sense of who he was, he felt disappointed with himself, disgusted even. This was a new experience for him, and not a pleasant one either, and he felt himself spiraling downwards as he desperately clutched at anything that could stop him from falling down all the way to the bottom. To his surprise, it was the promise of a new start that was the only thing keeping him from breaking down completely.
The other day, he had felt Scott’s hidden strength, which had nothing to do with blunt force and everything with steel resolve and wisdom. It was uncanny how that young werewolf, a teenager still, could at the same time appear to be so strong and knowledgeable. It should be impossible but Peter had already learned the hard way that where Scott McCall was concerned, nothing was truly impossible. It was as if the young Alpha made his life's mission to defy every assumption and prove himself better than what others expected of him due to his age and lack of experience.
It would irk Peter to no end if it weren't for the fact that Scott wanted him to become his Beta. However, the mere idea of becoming someone’s subordinate did nothing to nurse his already damaged pride. He felt conflicted, because at the same time he yearned for someone stronger than himself to help him when he was feeling down, he wanted to be able to lay down his burden, this feeling of inadequacy and powerlessness on someone else's shoulders.
It was so very tempting, and he was never good at resisting temptation. Before he lost his resolve, he picked up his phone and called Scott, feeling strangely nervous.
"Hi Peter, what's up?" he heard, and breathed with relief at the teen's warm tone.
"Hi Scott, I wonder if you have a free evening this weekend? I wanted to meet to discuss the terms of becoming a part of your pack," he cringed inwardly at how awfully formal he sounded.
"Sure, we could meet on Saturday. But, are you sure that you're alright?" there was a genuine worry in Scott's voice as he asked.
"Don't worry, I can wait two days," he said, not wanting to outright lie to his prospective Alpha but not feeling comfortable to admit to his weakness.
"Let's meet tomorrow, then," Scott decided at once. "I'll come to your place at seven, alright?"
"Sounds good to me," Peter agreed, trying not to sound too eager.
"Perfect! See you tomorrow, then."
After the conversation, Peter carefully put the phone away, seeing his hands shaking uncontrollably. He felt as if he was falling apart, and there was nothing that he could do about it.
Friday couldn’t come soon enough, he thought to himself as he tried to get himself together, and failed.
***
When Scott walked into Peter’s apartment on Friday, he instantly realized that something was wrong. The man was tense and on alert as if he was a wounded animal, ready to snap at the hand reaching out to him, no matter if it was a friend or foe, and barely even responded to his greeting.
“Peter, when you asked me to come, you mentioned that you wanted to discuss the terms of you joining the pack. But to me, it awfully sounded like terms of… surrender,” Scott said hesitantly, knowing that he had to tread carefully, but at the same time wanting to get to the bottom of the problem.
Peter turned his back to him, seemingly to look out the window, and his shoulders tensed visibly. “What if it is? What if I’m feeling like I’m waving a white flag, hoping that the victor will show mercy?” he asked in a strangled voice.
Scott came closer and gently put his hands on the man’s shoulders, not wanting to spook him as Peter looked almost ready to bolt.
“I hoped to gain a packmate today, not a prisoner,” he said quietly. “And I’m definitely not here to cage you, but to help you.”
Peter turned around abruptly with an ugly sneer on his face. “That’s what you like to think, isn’t it? That you’re helping people? Well, you wouldn’t need to if you hadn’t stripped me of my power in the first place!”
“It wasn’t your power to begin with,” Scott said solemnly. “Am I really the one to blame for what happened to you ever since you awoke from the coma?”
“Well, who else there is to blame?” Peter snarled viciously.
“Yourself,” said Scott simply. “And I think that deep inside you know it. But it’s easier to lash out at me than admit that you made a mistake that has cost you so dearly. After all, it’s easier to hate someone rather than deal with self-hatred that you so desperately try to deny.”
Peter looked at him with outrage. “I don’t- You’re wrong- ”
“There’s no one else here but you and I, so you might as well admit to it,” Scott challenged him, hoping that pressing the man’s buttons will not turn out to be a huge mistake.
“I know that it’s all my fault!” Peter cried out with a shattered expression. “I am perfectly aware of it, as I need to live with it every fucking day! It’s I who murdered Laura, I who bit you, I who deserved to have the Alpha power taken away! Is this what you wanted to hear? That I hate what I have become and that it’s killing me?!”
He stopped shouting, breathing heavily, his eyes wild and desperate.
“Yes, that’s exactly what I wanted you to admit,” said Scott calmly. “Because now you can start working on forgiving yourself.”
The older werewolf shuddered and hid his face in his hands. “I don’t deserve it,” he mumbled, his words barely audible.
“But you do. You deserve to be forgiven, to start anew, to live again,” Scott assured him, then finally came closer to the man and embraced him. He honestly expected a violent reaction or some resistance at the very least, but Peter immediately went limp in his arms, as if all his bones in his body suddenly disappeared. Scott supported his weight as the man shook, breathing unevenly.
“Come on, you need to lie down, you’re barely standing,” Scott murmured, helping Peter to lie down on the sofa and then spooning him with his own body, holding him tightly. The older werewolf’s body seemed too thin to him, almost frail, and it made him frown worriedly. He knew that six years spent in a comatose-like state couldn’t have been good for Peter's health, but to know it on an abstract level and to be able to feel it was a different thing altogether. He really needed to ensure that the man took better care of himself.
But for now, his mental and emotional well-being was a priority, so Scott focused on comforting Peter to the best of his abilities as the man broke apart with violent trembling and quiet, suppressed sobs. All the while, Scott held him close to his own body, letting him know that he was not alone. Gradually, Peter’s tremors subsided, his breathing slowly calming down and his heart no longer beating frantically against his chest, so Scott loosened his hold, wanting to give the man the space he probably needed.
After a long moment of silence Scott said tentatively: “If you need anything, just tell me. I’m here for you.”
Peter laughed weakly in response, turning around and sitting up, facing him. “I need a lot of things but I doubt you'd give it to me,” he said in a hoarse voice.
“Try me,” Scott offered, sitting up himself. “If I can, I will.”
“That’s the thing, you can’t,” Peter countered, shaking his head. “You don’t know what it’s like to lose everyone you ever cared about, how does it feel to lose your whole pack, leaving only a void inside. No matter how much knowledgeable you might be, I need true understanding , and you can’t give it to me,”
Scott swallowed heavily, Peter’s words touching a vulnerable string in his own soul as it echoed with a remembered suffering. “You think I don’t know the pain of losing my entire pack, my whole family?” he asked finally, voice breaking in the middle. “That I don’t know how it is, watching them fall one by one by one... having to close their unseeing eyes and bury them in the cold, hard ground because there was no one left who could do it?”
It was his time to shake as he remembered each death, each loss with agonizing details, and he fought with his grief which he had thought was long since buried.
“How? How could you possibly know how it feels?” he heard Peter’s question and bit his lip, conflicted.
He didn’t mean to give away that much, he never planned to reveal that he had lived through experiences that he wasn’t supposed to have. But now that he had… he couldn’t take it back, because that would mean lying to Peter, and while he was used to omitting the truth by now, outright lying was a line he swore never to cross.
Three things cannot be long hidden…
the sun, the moon and the truth.
How ironically fitting.
Decision made, he straightened and looked at Peter, saying: “Because this is not my first life. I have already lived through one lifetime, created my pack and lost each and every one of them to fire, knives, guns… I know this pain intimately, because it was the very reason why I travelled back in time, to not let it happen again.”
Notes:
... and the truth is finally revealed.
Chapter 44
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Though embarrassing, it felt unbelievingly good to finally let go of his guilt, pain and grief and to let himself be comforted by another person. A small part of Peter chided him mercilessly for showing his weakness, but he shushed it ruthlessly. Releasing his pent-up emotions felt similar to pulling out an aching tooth; though painful, it eventually left him with a pleasant feeling of relief afterwards.
But then Scott revealed the truth about himself and for a moment Peter forgot about his own feelings and looked at the other werewolf with disbelief. Time travel, what a ridiculous idea! He wanted to laugh but at the same time, his mind was working overtime to figure out the puzzle that was Scott McCall, and with this final piece everything suddenly fell into place.
This… revelation, it would actually explain all the inconsistencies in the persona that the teen projected to the world, like his unusually mature behaviour, the knowledge that he shouldn't possess and which couldn't even be explained by him being a True Alpha, or even the fact that he had become one straight after being bitten. If he had been an Alpha back in his own time, it would make sense that he remained one after appearing here.
Still, it was exactly the kind of insanity that would land anyone straight in the Eichen House if someone overheard them spouting such an incredulous story. But then again, so were the werewolves and the supernatural world in general, so since Peter was one and he knew that some of the legends and myths were actually true, why couldn't time travel be possible as well?
"This isn't a jest, is it?" he asked finally. "You're actually serious about it?"
"Absolutely," the young Alpha confirmed. "I'm aware that it's a lot to take in, but I didn't want to lie to you, you know? Also, there's so much I still need to do, especially getting my packmates back, that sooner or later the truth would be revealed either way."
Peter looked at him with a sudden understanding. Previously, Scott had mentioned that he was able to feel the bonds with his future pack members, which while it sounded quite improbable at the time Peter had first heard about it, he had accepted it at face value back then. But with this new perspective, he realized that the young Alpha hadn't meant future packmates, but the past ones which he had already lost and hoped to gain once more. It all made much more sense now.
But if it really was the truth, then why did Peter feel as if the ground shifted underneath him? Why was he feeling... hurt and disappointed all of a sudden?
"Is this why you want me in your pack so much? Because the other Peter had been one as well?" he asked, not even trying to hide the fact that he was offended by the mere thought. Was he simply a replacement to Scott for a man that he had known in his other life?
"Well, yes," the young Alpha confirmed, then added hurriedly: "But Peter, I know that you're not him, and that's totally fine. You could never be him, since your paths have already started to diverge and I wouldn't even want you to be. That's why I haven't told anyone about it all, well up until now. I don't want a replica of my first life, I want a real pack with real people in it, not merely shadows of my own memories."
Scott finished his speech with a slight flush on his cheeks, for the first time this evening actually looking his physical age.
"It must have been tough, seeing all of us again," said Peter with a sudden bout of empathy, which surprised him. He usually didn't do empathy, as he didn’t see any benefit in it.
"You have no idea," Scott murmured. "It was thrilling and heart-wrenching at the same time. You're all so much younger than I remember!" the teen exclaimed, shaking his head in disbelief.
"Speaking of which, what is your true age, I mean mental age, regardless of how old your body is currently?" Peter asked, his curious nature getting the best of him.
"Twenty six? Twenty seven?" Scott wondered, then explained sheepishly: "I kind of lost count since it was hard to keep track of birthdays while running for my life."
And that was another thing that intrigued Peter, that this other timeline didn't end well for Scott's pack, if his previous words about burying his loved ones were any indication. But he wasn't that cruel to actually ask Scott for all the gruesome details, no matter how tempted he was to inquire more about that other lifeline.
"So, does it mean that you believe me?" the young Alpha asked quietly.
"It appears that I do, as incredulous as it is," Peter admitted. "But I need to ask… If you care about Derek and I so much, why didn't you go back far enough to prevent our family's deaths?" he asked, his throat constricting with grief.
"Oh, Peter, I would have if it was possible, please believe me," Scott assured him, taking his hands in his and holding them tightly. "The ritual that I used was bound to the wolf side of me, so I couldn't go further than when I became a werewolf. But I would have done everything in my power to spare you that pain, if only I could."
Peter looked at their joint hands, Scott's being darker than his own, and warm, so very warm. He realized with a sudden clarity that the time traveller truly cared for him, and even if a part of that was influenced by the memories from his previous life, that didn't change the fact that here and now, he was offering Peter a place in his pack, as well as care and protection that came with it. And in that very moment, Peter wanted, wanted it so very badly that he almost felt a physical pressure of it.
"If I wanted you to be my Alpha, what would you ask for in return?" he asked suddenly, visibly surprising Scott.
"Loyalty and honesty, I guess. I wouldn't want us to argue just because we failed to communicate properly," the younger werewolf said after a moment of thinking about it. "There would also be some ground rules like no attacking anyone unless in self-defence. But your life is a priority, so if anyone is a fool enough to attempt to kill you, you're free to give them hell," Scott said with a crooked smile.
"That's it? No requirements of obedience or subservience?" Peter asked, just to be sure.
"What? Of course not!" Scott protested vehemently. "Where do you even get these ideas from?"
Peter shrugged in response. "I've met a lot of Alpha werewolves in my life and rarely they were the mother hen types as you are. More often than not they were power-hungry, vicious predators instead."
Scott made a face at hearing that. "Well, I'm not, and I hope that you don't expect me to be that kind of an Alpha. The pack is supposed to be a safe haven, so there will be no place for sick power plays in our pack."
Our pack . Those two words finally broke Peter's waning resistance and he said: "I want in, then."
He tried not to feel too self-conscious as Scott's eyes glowed with a red light, his fangs appearing out from his mouth as the young Alpha leaned down to bite him on the forearm. While this wasn't the usual method of accepting a new pack member, it wasn't totally unheard of, either. Nowadays a verbal confirmation sufficed, and a pack bond would be formed gradually over time, so Peter was a little bit surprised that Scott chose the more traditional method of actually biting his Betas.
He shuddered as he felt the sharp fangs piercing his skin and he felt the blood rushing through his body, the wolf inside him ecstatic at being accepted into the pack. Peter closed his eyes, focusing on the bond that started to form between him and Scott, and he marvelled at the strength of it. At the other end of their link he felt the pure power that was his Alpha, an endless source of care and compassion, and a mere brush of it was enough to make him feel better than he'd had in a very long time. This was it, this was what he had been missing for so long now, and the aching, bleeding wound inside him finally started to heal itself.
In a daze, he allowed Scott to take off their clothes, leaving them only in underwear. "Skin on skin contact helps the bond to settle, you know," his Alpha explained as he covered them both with blankets, then circled Peter with his arms, their chests and legs touching lightly.
"I know that I should probably be mortified by our position, but I'm really not," Peter admitted, burying his face in Scott's neck and inhaling his scent deeply. Home, he was finally home.
His Alpha caressed his back in response and said: "This is our bonding time, so think of it as a wedding night, just without the sex part."
"That's a relief, as I'm definitely a ladies' man, you know," Peter murmured, pressing himself even further into his Alpha's warm body. The feeling was truly exquisite, and he wanted to be buried in that comforting embrace for as long as possible.
"Well, I'm both, so if I get aroused by you being so close to me, I apologize in advance," Scott said honestly. "I promise I'll move away if that happens."
Peter just shrugged dismissively. "Don't worry, it wouldn't be your fault, since I know that I'm temptingly attractive."
"You mean that you were, as now you’re definitely too thin. I need to fatten you up a little bit,” Scott murmured, his fingers tracing the lines of Peter's ribs as if to make a point that he didn't have enough meat on his bones.
"You're welcome to feed me with waffles or pancakes in the morning," muttered Peter, letting himself be lulled into sleep by the steady rhythm of his Alpha's heartbeat.
***
Even once Peter fell asleep, Scott continued to caress his skin in slow, gentle strokes, knowing how important that first night was in helping their bond to settle in. Every now and then, he allowed himself to inhale the man's scent deeply, his inner werewolf finally satisfied with having another packmate bonded to him properly.
He knew that there were a lot of topics that they needed to discuss still, like Peter's anchor or Malia's identity, but for now he only wanted to enjoy having the man pressed close to him. He was thankful that Peter was a born werewolf and that physical closeness within the pack wasn't anything new to him, even though Scott knew that he was more affectionate than most Alphas out there. Peter didn't seem to mind their closeness, though, so he wasn't worried much.
He was also aware that he needed to talk with Derek and reveal the truth about himself to him, since keeping it a secret from him when the man's uncle already knew about it would feel too much like a betrayal. Still, this evening was for Peter and Peter only, so he will worry about conversation with Derek later.
Notes:
Sooo, Peter is Scott's Beta now, tadadadam! Finally ;)
Did you hope for it to happen or would you have rather prefer for Peter to remain independent? Let me know your thoughts!
Chapter 45
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Peter woke up to the feeling of a warm body pressed to him and he tensed abruptly, since after six years spent in a comatose-like state this was quite an unusual occurrence for him. Thankfully, his senses quickly picked up the distinct scent of his Alpha, so even half asleep he immediately relaxed with a pleased sigh.
It was nothing short of a wonder how good, how right it felt to be so close to Scott. He couldn't recall ever feeling this way, not with Laura or Talia, not even with his parents, though admittedly he barely remembered that part of his early childhood. He wondered if it was due to the fact that the Alpha bonds in werewolf families were hereditary, while the link with Scott was something that he had chosen for himself. Or maybe it was because Scott was a True Alpha? But no matter what the reason was, the bond that he shared with his current Alpha amazed him with its depth and intensity.
It felt so good that he wanted to bury himself into Scott's embrace and never leave it. Which was quite a nuisance, since he was perfectly aware that he couldn't live his life glued to the teen's side like some kind of an overgrown leech.
"You're thinkin' too much," he heard Scott's sleepy mumble, and he opened his eyes to look at the younger werewolf.
"There's no such thing," protested Peter indignantly. "You can never think too much, it's what the mind is for."
"Well, my mind is refusing to operate this early in the day, so stop it," muttered Scott, then tightened his hold around Peter, bringing them even closer. Peter just let out a pleased sounding "Mmmm" in response.
And while it would have been pleasant to just laze about the whole morning, they finally got out of the bed, Peter claiming the shower first while Scott went to the kitchen to make them breakfast. When Peter finally joined him drying his hair with a towel, the teen was already in his element, having already familiarized himself with all the cupboards in record time, looking as if he was a force of nature and the kitchen was his domain. Which was probably the case, now that Peter had a chance to observe him undisturbed.
For a moment he was overwhelmed with a sudden bout of homesickness, the domestic look that Scott presented making him painfully aware how empty and soulless his apartment was when the young Alpha was not here. While Peter appreciated being alone from time to time as much as anyone, in reality he longed to have a home full of people, same as the one he had grown up in. Then he reminded himself that his wish might not be that improbable after all, taking into account that he was a part of a pack now (small as it was at the moment) and he had a daughter.
"Everything's alright?" Scott asked with concern, having sensed the change in Peter's mood.
"Yes, just thinking about family," he said, "and my daughter, strange as it is to have a kid I never knew about. Would you tell me more about her?" he asked hopefully. Scott looked conflicted and uncomfortable at hearing his request, so Peter added, contrite: "I'm sorry, it wasn't my intention to put a pressure on you, I was just curious. I know that you said you won’t be telling me anything until I got myself fully in control.”
He had already accepted that his Alpha knew better than him how to handle this, that he would know when Peter was ready to be told. Instinctively, he bared his throat to Scott in submission, even though he knew that the teen didn't appreciate the gesture as most Alphas did. But it wasn't a calculated move, he did it without thinking, hoping that Scott won't reject it. The teen took the pan off the hob so that the pancakes didn't burn, and walked up to him. Then, he placed his hand on the back of Peter's neck, making him breathe in relief at the acceptance the gesture conveyed.
"I'm not withholding this knowledge as a leverage or punishment, just out of precaution," the Alpha assured him, caressing his neck gently. "While not in any imminent danger, Malia is not in the best place right now, and I don't want you to act rashly without being certain that you're ready to be a parent to a troubled teenager."
Peter looked up at him, surprised. "Malia? Her name is... Malia?" he asked with a hint of wonder in his voice.
"Yup," Scott confirmed, smiling at him warmly.
Later, Peter ate his breakfast in a daze, barely registering what was happening around him. His daughter was no longer an unknown, nameless kid; he finally realized that she was a real, living person, with around fifteen years of experience which had already shaped her, for better or for worse. He couldn't just force himself into her life with a mindset that she had waited all these years for him to appear. Once, maybe she had hoped for it to happen. But now, so close to adulthood she might no longer even care about a man who had fathered her.
When he finally accepted this, his internal turmoil calmed down, and he looked at Scott with gratitude. "Thank you," he said genuinely.
"What for?" his Alpha asked, surprised.
"For making me think before I act. I'll wait as long as you deem necessary to meet her," he said, and this promise he fully intended to keep. He will have only a single chance to make a first impression on his daughter and he hoped that with his knowledge, Scott would know best when the time was right for that to happen.
“You don’t need to thank me, it’s my job as your Alpha to do that,” Scott said, reaching across the table to pat his hand. “But in this I must consider both your and Malia’s needs at the same time, I hope you understand that. After all, she’ll be a part of the pack as well.”
Peter only nodded in response, accepting the rationale behind Scott’s decision. Once they finished eating and cleaned up the kitchen, they bundled on the sofa, Scott propped against the pile of pillows and Peter’s back pressed to the teen’s chest.
“Do you feel ready to tell me what your anchor was?” the Alpha asked gently. “If you don’t, that’s fine. It’s just that knowing this might allow me to help you regain it.”
“This might sound conceited, but I had always been my own anchor,” Peter admitted. “It’s quite difficult to explain... I had always known who I was, my strengths and weaknesses, my fears and desires, it was all so clear to me. I was intelligent and ambitious, but also manipulative and power-hungry. I was a brother, and an uncle, and I loved my family, though admittedly I often disagreed with Talia’s choices.”
“It sounds as if your anchor was a mix of self-awareness and self-acceptance, right?” asked Scott.
“Yes, exactly,” Peter agreed, glad that the teen understood his standpoint, then added bitterly: “I imagined myself as the ultimate Alpha material, I believed that given the chance, I would do a much better job than Talia did. So I waited, hoping for the opportunity to present itself to prove to her and all other werewolves my true value… But when I finally fulfiled my life-long dream, I did it through murder, and I was a violent brute rather than the Alpha that I wanted to be. So how can I be my own anchor any longer, if all that I’ve known about myself proved to be false?”
Scott circled him with his arms and Peter almost protested at being comforted. He was a failure, and a murderer, he didn’t deserve any of the kindness and comfort that his Alpha offered so readily.
“How can you even stand being near me?” he asked with anguish, instead.
“Because while you did horrible things and made some awful choices, you’re not an evil person,” Scott said quietly into his ear. “And I believe that if anyone deserves another chance, it is you.” His words caused Peter to tremble, so the young werewolf tightened his hold on him and added: “And while you feel that you can no longer be your own anchor, I don’t think that’s all true. You might need to do a lot of soul-searching and re-defining the image that you have of yourself, but in the end, I believe that you could become your own anchor once more.”
“But that could take ages!” Peter protested weakly.
“Yeah, it probably will,” Scott said calmly. “So what you need is to find something else that will be your anchor until you feel confident about yourself once more.”
Peter pondered on the thought. He didn’t know of that many werewolves whose anchors changed during their lifetime. Usually it was a result of a horrible experience or severe trauma… Oh.
Oh .
He hated to think of himself as a victim, as that would imply that he was weak. That he needed help, as if he was some damsel in distress who needed someone else to come to the rescue. But maybe, just in the privacy of his own mind, he could admit that he was a victim, after all. That a truly horrible thing had happened to him, to his whole family, which would justify the need for another anchor until he could truly stand on his feet back again.
… And could it be that he had already found one?
He had never been so open with anyone as he had with Scott. He trusted him to an extent that surprised even him, told him details about himself that he hadn’t revealed to anyone, even to his family. He had let himself fall apart in front of the teen, showing him his deepest emotions without any reservations. And so far, Scott had only offered him warmth, comfort and understanding, and not a hint of scorn and derision that Peter had expected. And he felt truly safe in his Alpha’s presence, cared for even, as he trusted the younger werewolf to always have his well-being in mind. If that wasn’t a sign of an anchor, he didn’t know what was.
The realization settling deep inside him, Peter moved away from Scott’s embrace and turned around so that he could look at him.
“I think that you, our bond, might be my new anchor,” he admitted softly.
The younger werewolf looked surprised for a moment before he smiled widely. “I’m glad, and I hope I won’t ever disappoint you,” he said, then added: “My own anchor is the love that I feel to my pack and family. So in part you’re my own anchor as well.”
His words caused Peter to feel pleased, flustered and honoured all at once. “We really need to stop being so emotional,” he grumbled after a moment, hoping that he wasn’t blushing too much.
“Why? Because men aren’t supposed to show any deeper feelings?” asked Scott with an eyebrow raised in a challenge. “Everything that we’ve said since yesterday was important, and we both deserved to hear it and be heard. I’m not ashamed, and you shouldn’t be either.”
Peter swallowed with difficulty, because nowadays it was easier for him to feel shame rather than pride. To be told that it needn’t be so… it overwhelmed him for a moment.
Scott must have realized that, as he added in a lighter tone: “But you’re right, our talks don’t always have to be deep and meaningful. So, if you feel that we’ve exhausted the limit of emotional conversation for the time being, we can just enjoy ourselves from now on. Deal?” the teen offered him a hand to shake on it, which Peter gladly took.
“Deal,” he confirmed with a small, honest smile.
Notes:
Yup, we've definitely exhausted that limit, no more doom and gloom at least for the next few chapters!
Chapter 46
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Derek moped around his loft but for once in his life, he felt that he was perfectly justified in that.
While he had known on some abstract level that Scott would be building his pack soon, the mere fact the teen was now bonding with his own uncle caused jealousy to flare in him unexpectedly. He didn't want Peter to take his own place as Scott's Beta. He knew that it was childish of him and if he was completely honest with himself, also quite hypocritical as he was planning to expand his own pack as well, but it was the truth. He wanted to be the one to hold Scott's undivided attention, but now he was starting to realize that it wasn't going to happen.
He had two choices now: accept that Scott wasn't exclusively his Alpha any longer and come to terms with the fact that the teen would have to divide time between both of their packs, or let his jealousy sour their relationship and possibly cause him to lose Scott's friendship in the process. And that wasn't a true choice at all, since the second option was unacceptable to him. So that left curbing his possessiveness and letting go of this jarring jealousy which made him lose his cool to the point that he was pacing around his apartment with his claws and fangs revealed, growling lowly.
Finally, he decided to just call Scott and discuss it like adults, which probably he should’ve done in the first place.
"Hi Derek!" the teen greeted warmly.
"Hi, I wondered how bonding with Peter went?" he asked, the jealous part of him hoping that Scott would reply that it went horribly and that the whole thing was a complete disaster.
"It went great, even better than I hoped for as the link between us is really strong, so I'm really satisfied with the result," Scott answered enthusiastically.
Derek gritted his teeth and clenched his jaw tightly, barely stopping himself from growling into the phone.
"Hey, is everything alright?" the teen asked worriedly when he had failed to say anything for the long moment.
"No it's not, I'm terribly jealous, which I know is ridiculous, but it doesn’t change the fact that I am," said Derek snappily, angry at himself.
"Oh my," Scott sighed. "Derek, you know that I care for you, and nothing's ever going to change that, right?"
"... I think I might've needed to hear that," admitted Derek sheepishly.
"You were my first Beta, and that will always make you special," Scott assured him. "But Peter is also important to me, so could you just accept that and not treat him as some kind of a rival, please?"
"I'll try," he promised reluctantly.
"Please do. Because I revealed some truths about myself to Peter, so you deserve to hear it as well."
"You told him first?" grumbled Derek indignantly.
"What did I just say about this not being a competition?" Scott asked impatiently and Derek could almost imagine his frown.
"I'll try harder, then," he promised, this time more honestly. "And feel free to visit, you're welcome anytime."
"Great, I'll let you know once I talked with mom and Isaac about what their plans for the next few days are. But I'll definitely drop by soon, is that okay?"
It was more than okay and Derek told him so before saying goodbye.
Somehow, admitting to Scott that he was miserable because of him bonding with Peter made him feel slightly better. The dynamics between them might be changing, but not necessarily for the worst, and the core of their relationship remained unchanged, which was reassuring in itself.
***
Scott sighed with exasperation after Derek disconnected. He had just started to build his pack and managing his packmates' conflicting expectations was already turning out to be a challenge. But then, he would gladly choose all these minor troubles over not having a pack at all.
He opened the door to the animal clinic, as he had an afternoon shift today, only to be greeted by the sight of Deaton and his sister discussing something quietly. They stopped abruptly when they saw him, and he huffed half in annoyance, half in amusement.
"You could have told me that you were hosting a secret emissary gathering, boss, so I might've come late rather than early," he suggested lightly while taking off his jacket, his eyes never leaving the woman's face, observing her reactions.
"Actually, we were just waiting for you. My sister wanted to finally meet you," Deaton explained awkwardly, sensing the tension in the room.
"I'm Morin Morrell, but please call me Morin," the woman offered with a patronizing smile and he snorted at hearing that.
"I don't think so. I know who you are, Ms Morrell, and as long as Deucalion's still hell bent on murdering other werewolves and you're gathering intelligence for him, we're not going to be anything other than adversaries," he said coldly, crossing his arms across his chest.
Instead of replying to him, she said to his brother: "Now I know what you meant. Intriguing, indeed," she admitted, then added: "But no matter, I think that I now know what I wanted to."
Scott rolled his eyes at her. "If you meant to gauge if I was an Alpha worth Deucalion's attention, let me tell you that he's welcome to visit Beacon Hills as long as he keeps his pack's murdering tendencies in check. The moment he steps out of the line and threatens my pack or my family and friends, I'll rain hell on him."
"You really think that you can go against an Alpha Pack, boy?" she raised her eyebrows in surprise, looking incredulously at him.
"For my pack? I'll go against the whole world if need be, werewolves, hunters, druids, I don't really care," he shrugged. "So feel free to let Deucalion know that his practice of making an Alpha murder his Betas won't ever work on me. Still, I would gladly talk with him, as I heard that he was a true visionary, once. It would be a shame to waste such a potential."
If the woman had been treating him patronizingly before, now she was gazing at him more carefully. "Do you believe that something of the man that he once was could be salvaged still?" she asked, her interest piqued.
"Why don’t you tell me that, you're his confidante, after all," he said with a slight mockery to his voice. "I wonder, how could you have watched him spiral down this destructive path and do nothing to stop it?"
"He's so far gone that he can no longer be reasoned with," she defended herself.
"Maybe reason is no longer the way to get to him, then," Scott said, then added firmly: "Go back to Deucalion, Ms Morrell, and convey my invitation to him. I'm always open to meet fellow werewolves, as long as they don't threaten me and mine."
She scoffed at hearing that. "If you believe that Deucalion's not a threat, then you don't know him at all."
"I know how dangerous he can be," he assured her. "But it will be his decision whether to act on it or not and I won't rob him of that choice."
She nodded, looking at him with a newfound respect. "You would have made a fine druid if you weren't already a werewolf," she said, gathering her things.
"You would make quite a menacing werewolf, yourself," he said honestly. The playful twinkle in her eyes told him that she quite agreed with him on that, and he couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit less adverse to her.
Once he was alone with Deaton, Scott asked him while trying to keep his anger in check: "Do I get to know what you have told her about me?"
The man just shrugged. "I don't know all that much about you, do I? I just told her that there's more to you than meets the eye, and that she shouldn’t underestimate you, nothing more."
"I would have been more forthcoming if I was certain where your loyalties lie. As it is now, I'm not certain if I could trust you with any of my secrets, especially since I now know that you could reveal them to a rival pack," Scott pointed out.
The man was still looking unbothered as he said: “I've never promised that I would be your pack’s emissary, have I? I might have been the Hale’s Pack advisor once, and I might become one again, but I never agreed to be an emissary to two packs at once. That would result in me having a divided loyalty, after all.”
“For someone so wise you could be surprisingly blind to what should have been obvious to you from the start,” Scott told him. “The Hale Pack and my pack? They’re basically one and the same. Peter’s my current Beta and Derek’s a former one but I still consider him mine. The distinction between our packs is nothing more than a technicality by this point.”
Deaton looked speechless for a moment, and then asked: “How? How did you manage to gain their loyalty so quickly?”
“That’s easy, doc. I cared for them when no one else seemed inclined to,” said Scott simply. “So before you talk with your sister next, please consider whom you want to be loyal to, as you cannot claim ignorance from now on.”
Deaton’s gaze turned pensieve as he asked: “You’re not exactly going by the book with this pack merging, you know that, right?”
Scott snorted at the question. While he strongly believed in doing what’s right, he couldn’t care less about what others expected of him, or what was widely considered acceptable. The supernatural world could use some evolution - or even revolution - in many departments, starting from the rivalry between the werewolf packs which was harmful and disruptive to their entire society. And don’t let him start on the Omega’s treatment, which was scandalous and barbaric... If he had only time to change it all, he would. But as far as priorities went, he really needed to focus on his own pack for the time being.
“Me, going by the book, now where would be the fun in that?” he asked with a wink, hoping to lighten the man’s mood, as the last thing that they needed was yet another fight. “Come on, boss, let’s get to work. The animals won’t take care of themselves, you know.”
Deaton looked relieved that they weren’t going to argue, after all.
As they worked, Scott remembered one thing that he meant to discuss with the man. He wanted Peter to bear their pack’s symbol, but he didn’t want to force him to go through the whole process if it meant using fire on him, so he wondered if Deaton as a druid would know about other ways to do that.
“You wouldn’t happen to know how to make a tattoo stay on a werewolf’s body other than burning it into their skin, would you?” he asked hopefully.
Alan raised his eyebrow at him, surprised by being asked about it seemingly out of the blue, and said noncommittally: “I might know such a method.”
Scott waited a bit for the man to provide more info, but Deaton was stubbornly silent, busing himself with cleaning up the shelves.
“And? Would you mind sharing your knowledge, or do you require some grovelling first?” Scott asked with a roll of his eyes. The pettiness of that man truly knew no bounds, sometimes.
“I might be inclined to tell you if you show me your pack’s mark in return and explain its meaning,” Deaton offered finally.
“Quid pro quo, how fitting for a druid,” Scott commented, inwardly breathing in relief. “I shouldn’t be surprised, your kind never lets the chance to gain more knowledge pass by, after all.”
“Quite right,” Alan confirmed with a sly smile. “Do we have an agreement, then?”
“We do,” Scott confirmed.
While the man often irritated him to no end, he needed to remind himself that he wasn’t an enemy, and that deep inside Deaton was a good man. Maybe slightly misguided and confused about his allegiance, but a good man nonetheless.
Notes:
Yes, Deaton's back! And Scott meets Morin for the first time (in this timeline).
I don't know how about you, but every time I write chapters including Deaton I get irritated with him for keeping his knowledge so close to his chest, and for acting so aloof. But anyway, he's a good guy, so I guess I'll just have to bear with him.
Aaaand, the time for meating the Alpha Pack is getting closer and closer! It might take me several chapters still, but we're slowly getting there!
Chapter 47
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
When Scott went home, Alan stayed a moment longer to gather his thoughts. The mark that Scott had showed him - an infinity symbol within a circle which was supposed to reflect the pack - had a deep meaning, and he wondered if the teen was fully aware of that. Scott had explained that for him it meant that the pack was for life and that once someone became his packmate they would always remain so. And while it was quite a heartfelt notion on Scott's part, Alan could tell that much, it didn't necessarily mean that it was the whole truth.
Being a druid, he knew that a circle symbolized endlessness and the never-ending cycle of life and death, and rebirth. Augmented with an infinity symbol, it was powerful indeed, almost worryingly so. And while once he might've thought that he had seen all that there was to see in the supernatural world, now he wasn't so sure anymore. It seemed to him that a new power had started to rise in Beacon Hills without no one being the wiser, and that was a reason for concern.
Still, he hadn't revealed anything of his suspicions to his sister. While he loved her, he truly did, he was fully aware how cunning, manipulative and unscrupulous she sometimes was. After all, that's why she remained Deucalion's emissary even after the man had started his murderous crusade, and it wasn't for her knowledge and skills only.
He went home with his heart heavy and thoughts clouded, trying to figure out the pieces of the puzzle that he was handed while feeling that his efforts were falling short of the mark, and by a truly wide margin.
***
Scott planned to stay at home for the remainder of the weekend, fully aware that Isaac was jealous of the time he had spent with Peter. True, the boy tried to hide his feelings at first by bottling them inside, but that only resulted in him being irritable and snapping at everything and everyone around him. Even Melissa was surprised by his sour mood and when Isaac back-talked to her (which astounded all of them since he had never acted like that before), the woman said that she had enough of his cheek and that she was going for a walk, expecting them to have talked over their issues before she was back.
"I thought that we have talked about this already," Scott reminded the boy once they were alone. "Don't ask me to choose between you and my pack, please."
"I won't, because I know exactly who you would choose, and it isn't me."
"Isaac…" Scott started, but his boyfriend interrupted him.
"No, that's the truth, isn't it? I'm tired of always being the second choice," Isaac said, bitterly.
"And I'm tired of people trying to force me to pick them over others!" Scott snapped, his patience finally running thin. "Everyone just wants a bigger piece of me, as if it was some kind of a contest! Why can't you just accept that I'm only one person and I'm giving as much of myself as I can?"
Feeling hurt and riled up at the same time, Scott turned away from his boyfriend and went to grab his shoes and jacket.
"Where are you going?" Isaac asked, his voice trembling slightly.
"Away," he answered darkly, putting on his shoes.
"You mean away from me ," the boy said quietly.
Scott didn't say anything as he put on his jacket and opened the door.
"Stay, please," he heard the quiet plea, and he stilled, torn between his own hurt and the need to comfort Isaac.
"What for? To hear more reproaches, or demands?" he asked finally, looking at his boyfriend sharply.
"No, I… I'm sorry," Isaac said, looking pained and miserable. "Just, stay with me?"
His anger dissolving in an instant, Scott closed the door quietly and came closer to the boy, placing his hands on Isaac's cheeks to brush away a few stray tears.
"I promised that I'd never leave you, and I won't. But Isaac, I don’t want to feel guilty each time I wish to spend some time with my packmates. Please don't make me feel this way," he pleaded with the boy. "I stayed at home today because I wanted to be with you . Why can't you see that?"
Isaac trembled and started to mumble barely audible apologies, so Scott hugged him tightly to his chest. God, the boy was only sixteen, and in love. Was it any wonder that he wanted to spend all of their time together?
"Hush, love," he murmured into his ear. "I'm sorry too, that I'm not enough for you."
"But, you are," Isaac protested weakly, his voice breaking in the middle.
Scott kissed his temple tenderly in response, loving him even for that sweet lie.
***
On Monday morning Isaac woke up first and he just kept lying silently, observing Scott’s face as he slept. When awake, his boyfriend created such an intense presence around him that he seemed several years older than he really was, and only when asleep he truly looked like a sixteen year old.
Isaac knew that he had hurt, and constantly kept hurting Scott with his possessiveness. However, yesterday had been truly an eye opener in just how close he came to pushing the teen away. Scott had been so determined to leave as if being close to Isaac was more than he could take in that moment, and Isaac couldn’t forgive himself for causing that.
It was a painful realization, that his presence had been a source of pain and stress to the only person he never intended to hurt. Scott had given him everything, was everything to him, and the mere thought of losing him… No, it was unthinkable.
Giving in to the temptation, he kissed Scott’s naked chest, caressing the silky skin with his fingertips. No matter how many times they had been intimate with each other, he couldn’t help but feel amazed each time he simply got to touch and enjoy Scott's body as he did now.
"Mornin', love," his boyfriend murmured sleepily.
Isaac blushed, as he did every time he was called so endearingly.
"Hi," he greeted almost shyly, hoping that Scott wasn't angry with him any longer and that everything was good between them. As if sensing his uncertainty, Scott pulled him closer to himself, and Isaac melted into his embrace, breathing in relief.
They'll be alright, he told himself. He couldn’t imagine what he would do if that wasn't the case.
***
During breakfast Scott received a text message from Stiles that he caught some nasty bug and that he won't be at school today. While feeling sorry for Stiles' predicament, Isaac was ecstatic that for once he would have Scott all to himself.
However, that clearly wasn't meant to be, as Scott saw that Allison looked quite miserable for some reason and invited her to their table during the lunch break if she wanted to talk. Isaac just gritted his teeth, forcibly swallowed his disappointment and tried to look sympathetic.
Looking at the girl closely, he saw heavy bags under her eyes which couldn't be even fully covered by her make-up. Realizing just how much conceited it was of him to ignore everyone else's problems and focusing on his own issues only, he asked her honestly: "Is everything alright?"
"I argued with my mother the whole weekend," she admitted, rubbing her eyes tiredly. "I hate that she won't let me go to the prom. She's just so… unreasonable."
"Why would she forbid you from going?" Scott asked, surprised.
Allison bit her lip for a moment, looking at both of them uncertainly. "Because- Well, it's a full moon that night. And since she's now aware that there would be a werewolf attending, she’s determined to keep me at home… But I don't care what she thinks, Scott, I know that you're perfectly safe."
Isaac looked closely at Scott and saw the moment when the realization dawned on him. The full moon was the ultimate bonding time for the pack, Isaac knew that much, but up until now they had somehow never connected the dots that the Winter Formal would be on a full moon night. Isaac's heart clenched painfully when he saw how torn Scott was, and he instantly knew what he needed to do.
"Scott's not going to the prom," he said steadily. "This is the pack time, right, Scott?"
"Isaac, no, I can't- I won't do that to you," his boyfriend said with visible anguish. "I know how much you wanted to go, I won't rob you of that," he promised, but Isaac shook his head.
"I've learned my lesson from yesterday. There’s the time for us, and there's the time for you to meet with your pack," he argued calmly, then in an attempt to redirect the focus from himself, he asked the girl: "Would your mother allow you to go if Scott won't be there?"
She looked at both of them, shocked but pleased. "Well, yes, I think so. But I hope that you're not doing this only for my benefit. I'd hate to come between you," she added honestly, looking concerned.
Scott took Isaac's hand in his and asked gently: "Are you absolutely sure about this? If you want me to go with you, I will."
Isaac wanted so badly to say please go with me, take me to the ball as a boyfriend should . But at the same time, he saw the gratefulness in Scott's eyes, the way the lines around his mouth relaxed at Isaac's acceptance of his werewolf needs, and he knew that there was only one response that he could give him.
"I'm sure,” he said warmly, reassuringly. “I love you, and if you need to spend time with your packmates, I'm totally fine with that."
And if his heart bled a little as he said this, well, no one but himself needed to know that.
Notes:
Poor Scott, and ever poorer Isaac! I love them so much...
Okay, I admit that I cried a bit as I was writing this chapter. I wanted so much to give you a happy, fluffy chapter for Christmas, but of all times for that to happen, my fluff-writing abilities have deserted me. I'm truly, truly sorry.
Chapter 48
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The dinner at the Argents was a tense affair, same as it had been the last a couple of days ever since the Winter Formal topic came up. Chris kept shooting worried looks at his daughter who played with her food absentmindedly. He knew that his wife's decision to forbid her from going to the ball had hurt her a lot, and he wondered what he could do to make it better, as he hated to see her so dejected.
Finally, Allison put down her fork. "I talked with Scott and he said that he won't be going to the prom. Does it mean that I may go, after all?" she asked, looking at her mother.
Chris was amazed, because that would make all his wife's reservations about Allison going to the ball null and void, right? He realized that he should've known better when Victoria frowned and asked: "And how would we know that he’s saying the truth? Or that he won't change his plans at the last minute?"
For Chris, that was the last straw. He was sick and tired of her being permanently dissatisfied and always finding a reason, no matter how far-fetched, to criticize werewolves in general and Scott in particular. Not to mention, her irrational behaviour started to impact their family negatively, and he wasn’t going to just stand and watch how she shattered Allison’s dreams without a valid reason.
"Oh, for the sake of…!" he snapped and gritted his teeth to stop himself from swearing. "So far I went along with this, Victoria, even though I wasn't truly convinced that Scott's a danger, but this is absurd. I'll call Scott and if he confirms, Allison's going, and that's final."
"And why should you be the one to make that decision?" the woman asked angrily.
"Because the last time I checked, a school ball is not a hunters' matter so you don't get to pull rank over me on this," he answered coldly, then cleaned his mouth with a napkin and stood up. "Now, I'm going to call Scott and have it resolved once and for all." He left the table in quick strides, trying to put as much distance between himself and Victoria as possible.
Nowadays, his marriage was strained so much that it was getting dangerously close to the breaking point. He had even started to sleep in a separate bedroom, just to allow himself some respite from the neverending arguments and to be able to sleep peacefully rather than tense up each time his wife opened her mouth. He hated this, hated the discord between them but for once, he wasn't going to relent. He knew Scott, he trusted him, and if Victoria wanted to make her life's mission to fight the young Alpha, he didn't intend to go along with it.
He selected Scott's number and hesitated for a moment. The last time they talked he had hurt the boy and even though Scott had assured him that he was forgiven, he didn't know if they truly were alright and if he was welcome to contact the boy still.
Well, no better way to check it than actually call him, right? Decision made, he pressed the ‘call’ button.
"Hi Chris!" the teen's voice was warm as he answered
"Hi Scott, I hope that I'm not interrupting anything," he started hesitantly.
"Not at all. I'm glad that you called, it's been too long since we talked. How have you been?"
Chris smiled, hearing the obvious care in Scott’s voice. "It's been a rough time for me lately but don't worry, I'll be fine," he assured him.
"I'm sorry to hear that," the young Alpha said, his voice concerned. "If you want to talk, or just spend some time together and take your mind off whatever's bothering you, just let me know, okay? I missed spending time with you."
Chris swallowed heavily, because when was the last time someone had openly said that they missed him? He honestly couldn't remember. He knew that moving houses so often made it difficult for him to form true friendships. Oh, he had a lot of acquaintances and business contacts, but true friends were few and far between, if he was being honest with himself. He guessed that was why he had accepted Scott’s presence in his life so readily, not to mention that it was very difficult not to fall under the boy’s charm of kindness mixed with helpfulness and understanding.
"I might take you up on your offer sometime," he said gratefully. "But, how are you ? I heard from Allison that you're not going to the Winter Formal."
"That's right, I want to spend time with my pack, especially since Peter's now my Beta," Scott admitted.
Chris laughed. "So, he finally caved in? That's fantastic, congratulations!"
"I wore down his reservations with pure stubbornness and persistence, I guess," the young Alpha said sheepishly, and Chris could easily imagine his embarrassed smile. "You're welcome to join us if you wish, and maybe I'll get Derek to agree to come as well so you two could finally meet."
Chris blinked, surprised at the invitation. The whole idea, a hunter spending time with werewolves on a full moon, it was preposterous. Unheard of. Outrageous, even. And he was very much tempted to agree.
"Thank you for the invitation," he said honestly. "I had a patrol duty during the last full moon, so I dare say I deserve a day off this time, but I'd need to confirm it, alright?"
"Sure, no problem. And please give my love to Allison, she very much deserves to go to the prom and enjoy herself."
"I will," Chris agreed, then added: "Thank you, for everything."
"Don't mention it, and take care."
"You too," Chris replied before disconnecting.
He went back to the dining room with a much lighter heart. Victoria was still frowning but Allison was looking up at him hopefully.
"Scott confirmed that he's not going to the prom," he announced with a smile, then kissed the top of his daughter's head. "I'll need to take you shopping, after all."
"Brilliant! Thanks, dad!" Allison beamed at him.
When he sat down, Victoria said with a haughty scowl: "I hope that you intend to ensure that the werewolf keeps his word."
Chris hated when she was talking about supernatural beings as if they were worth less than humans, as if they were nothing more than animals. In a split second he made the decision to accept Scott’s offer to join him during the full moon, partly because he honestly wanted to, but partly because he also wanted to spite Victoria.
"In fact, I am," he replied to his wife. "I plan to spend that night with Scott and his pack to make sure that they're not up to no good. Is such precaution satisfactory for you?" he asked sharply.
She looked at him speechless before nodding.
Quite satisfied with himself, he took his plate and went to the kitchen to warm up his dinner in a microwave. For the first time in several days he felt that his stomach wasn't tied up in knots and he felt excited rather than stressed up.
The full moon couldn't come soon enough.
***
Stiles knew that he may not be a werewolf, he may not have enhanced senses, supernatural strength or anything of that sort. Still, he prided himself of having one trait that his friend seemed to be sorely lacking, and that was Common Sense.
"How's that I'm away one single day and you still manage to undermine your relationship in that short period of time?" he asked Scott when the young werewolf admitted that he won't be going to the Winter Formal.
"I'm not undermining anything, it was Isaac who told me to spend the full moon with my pack," Scott replied.
Stiles shook his head, exasperated. For someone so mature, Scott could be awfully blind sometimes. Stiles knew that while Isaac might have made such an offer, it was rather obvious to anyone who was paying attention that he had wished for Scott to decline and put their relationship above everything else. Which apparently wasn't going to happen, as Stiles started to realize.
He wondered if he should urge Scott to try to salvage this while he still had time. But giving love advice was truly a tricky business since it could go completely wrong and he didn't want to be caught in the middle of a love drama as someone who advised Scott to act one way or another.
"Mark my words, man, this isn't going to end well, I just know it," he grumbled instead but Scott just called him sourpuss with a roll of his eyes.
Stiles just hoped that he won't have a chance to tell his best friend "I told you so" in the near future, and that he was worried for nothing.
***
Isaac was walking down the hall wondering if he should even bother going to the prom alone, or resign himself to spend that night at home. It seemed that all the people that he was even remotely friendly with - which weren't that many to begin with - had their dates picked up already. And he wasn’t going to ask Stiles of all people, that just wasn’t going to happen.
He was heading towards the classroom when Allison walked up to him.
"Hi Isaac!" she greeted happily, and Isaac was immediately struck by how radiant she looked in that moment.
"Hi Allison, how did the talk with your parents go?" he asked after a moment, realizing that he might have stared at her for a second too long than what was considered polite.
"I can go to the prom!" she exclaimed enthusiastically.
"That's great," he said when an idea struck him. "Do you have a date yet? I mean, would you go with me if you don't? As friends, that is," he stumbled over his words, going red from embarrassment at his inability to form a coherent sentence.
Thankfully, Allison didn't seem to mind as she replied with a small smile: "You're the first to ask me, so yes, I'll go with you."
He returned her smile with a shyness that he couldn't quite explain, because they were going out as friends, there was no reason to get nervous all of a sudden.
"You're sure that Scott won't mind?" the girl asked worriedly. "It's thanks to the both of you that I'm going to the prom in the first place, so I don't want him to regret his decision."
"It's not like we're going as a couple, so I'm sure that he'll be fine with it," Isaac assured her, opening the door to the classroom for her without even thinking about the gesture.
As she smiled at him showing off her dimples, he felt something fluttering in his stomach, but he chalked it up to the lunch that he had eaten not so long ago. There was no other reason for his stomach to act up weirdly, right?
Notes:
Yup, I've updated the tags, so Isaac/Allison will be a thing! If it's going to be serious and longlasting, or fleeting and short-lived that still remains to be seen... Do you have a preference? Or would you see those two with someone else? I'm curious to know your thoughts about this new development, so feel free to comment!
Chapter 49
Notes:
After the emotional rollercoaster that the last several chapters certainly were, and which still awaits us in the future, let me give you a chapter filled with friendship, bromance and lots of hurt/comfort. Enjoy!
Chapter Text
Allison didn't remember when was the last time she had felt so excited. She was going to the prom with a boy she had secretly had a crush on for quite some time now, so how could she not be over the moon with the prospect? She knew perfectly well that Isaac was Scott's boyfriend and he asked her to the ball as a friend only, but still, they will finally have the chance to talk and overall enjoy themselves in a different setting than a classroom. If that wasn't a chance for them to get to know each other better, she didn't know what was.
And while she would rather go shopping for her dress with Lydia, she knew that her friend already had plans for the weekend, so that left going with her dad, which while slightly embarrassing, was still way more acceptable than going with her mother.
It hadn't always been that way, though. She remembered that in San Francisco she had quite good relations with her mom, as both of them were frequently talking about the newest trends in fashion, and their shopping sprees were absolutely brilliant, though they had often caused her dad to comment on how expensive designer clothes were. She knew that he hadn't truly minded, though, since as his only daughter she was the apple of his eye and she was spoiled rotten, which she was acutely aware of.
So even if Lydia couldn't go shopping with her due to some kind of a family meeting, that didn't mean they couldn't meet after school and gossip a bit, right?
"Come on, spill it out," Lydia urged her once they were in Allison's room.
"Isaac asked me to the prom!" she gushed, unable to contain her enthusiasm.
The blond girl frowned at hearing that. "Isn't he going with Scott?"
"He would but Scott’s not going, so Isaac asked me instead, as friends of course, but still!"
Lydia tutted at her with disagreement. "Allison, dear, I hate to break it to you, but when at least one of the pair is interested in something more, 'just friends' is simply not going to be enough."
"Well, I like Isaac, but I really don't want to come between him and Scott," Allison said worriedly.
"I think you already did, whether you wanted it or not." His friend patted her on the arm consolingly.
"Lydia, what do I do?" Allison asked, biting her lip in distress.
The blond girl just shrugged in response. "Don't ask me, I'm not doing all that well with my own love life so how could I offer you any advice?"
Allison finally looked at her friend, really looked at her, and she realized that Lydia looked quite dreadful underneath all the make-up. It wasn't obvious at the first glance - Lydia was an expert in wearing concealer as armour - but if one looked close enough, it showed.
"What did Jackson do this time?" Allison asked.
Lydia shook her head. "It's not the question of what he did, but what he didn't do. He didn't ask me to the prom, and I don't even know if that's because he just assumes that I will go with him by default just because he's my boyfriend, if he wants to dump me and ask someone else instead, or if he simply doesn't want to go at all."
"But that's awful!” Allison said, outraged at the callous treatment. “Did you talk with him about this?"
"That's another issue, ever since Scott replaced him as the captain, I barely even see Jackson after school. He doesn't visit me all that often, and when he does, it's to have angry sex that doesn't even help him feel better, and then he leaves just as furious," Lydia said, looking away, frustrated and ashamed.
Allison took her hands and she squeezed them comfortingly. "Don't let yourself be treated in such a way, you deserve better. If you're unhappy with Jackson, don't wait for him to break up with you, do it yourself," she advised. "If he truly cares for you, he should fight tooth and nail to win you back. If he doesn’t, well that just means that he doesn't deserve you."
Having heard that, Lydia excused herself and left to the bathroom hurriedly, but Allison saw for a split second how her eyes got full of unshed tears, and her heart went to the girl. How’s that even the toughest women get defenseless and vulnerable when love is concerned? she wondered.
She sighed wearily, sitting on her bed and hugging her knees to her chest. It had been relatively easy to provide advice to Lydia because what Jackson had been doing was definitely not a way any boy should treat her girlfriend. However, when it came down to her own love life, it was much harder to decide on any kind of route which wouldn’t end up in a heartbreak for her or everyone involved.
She had used to think of love triangles as overused cliches and in the past she had scoffed each time she had heard a similar story. So it was quite ironic that she was experiencing exactly the same cliche, herself.
***
When Isaac told him that he was going to the prom with Allison, Scott felt strangely as if he just had a deja vu, even though the events were completely different than during his first life. Still, it seemed to him that no matter what he did or didn't do, sooner or later those two were meant to somehow gravitate towards each other. He also realized that Stiles was right, as always, in saying that not taking Isaac to the prom would end badly.
He knew that he should probably feel jealous, but he only felt bone-tired and resigned. Living his life for the second time, it inevitably led to heartbreaks, some of which were new, but some were exactly the same. He wondered for a moment if he should go with Isaac to the ball after all, but then he realized that it was much too late to change his mind like that.
So, not allowing any of his feelings to appear on the surface and promptly burying them deep inside himself, he kissed Isaac and told him that he was glad that the boy had found a date for the prom and that he was sure the both of them were going to have a great time together. Isaac kissed him back with a smile, his face glowing with happiness, and it soothed a bit of Scott's fear of losing him.
Still, he felt so at odds with his own conflicted feelings that he realized that for once he was the one who needed to be comforted. And the first person who came to his mind whom he wanted to be there for him when he was feeling down, was… Derek.
He didn't realize how much he needed his packmate until he actually stood in front of the man's loft and knocked on the door.
"Scott? I didn't expect-"
He didn't let Derek finish his sentence as he flung himself at him to hug him desperately, feeling both like the emotional teenager and world-weary veteran all at once, and realizing that in a way, he was both. Somehow, Derek knew immediately what he needed, as he returned his hug without a word, holding him in his arms, the link between them pulsing with love and concern.
After a moment, Scott let go and went inside, took off his shoes and outer clothes then went straight to Derek's bed, diving under the covers and breathing in his packmate's scent. Soon enough, Derek joined him and embraced him without a word.
"I love you, I hope you know that," Scott murmured into the man's chest.
"I know, I can feel it," Derek answered simply. "But why? I'm just a grumpy, moody werewolf."
"You just… get me,” Scott tried to explain. “I don't need to say anything, and you still know exactly what I need."
"I'm not the talkative sort. Most people find it off putting," the man admitted with a weird mix of self-depreciative acceptance.
"Most people are stupid," Scott said with a frown. "But no matter, that's their loss and my gain."
In response, Derek held him even tighter, pressing their bodies close. They stayed that way for what seemed like a blissful eternity, and at last Scott felt himself unwinding, his body relaxing in the comforting embrace.
"I feel that I'm losing Isaac, and I'd hate to go through this for the second time," he admitted quietly.
And then he told Derek about his first life, how he had been besotted with Allison, his first love, how they had broken up with each other, how the girl had started seeing Isaac and then how she had died, taking to her grave Isaac's will to live. He had never seen him again after the boy had left for France, at least not until he had received the chance to redo his life.
"I know that the whole story sounds outlandish, crazy even-" he said finally, but Derek interrupted him.
"Actually, it makes even too much sense," the man said. "I couldn't reconcile in my mind how young and old you seem at different times. This would explain it."
Scott looked at him, surprised. "You really believe me?"
"Of course I do. I trust my instincts, and they tell me that you're telling the truth," Derek confirmed stoically. "Besides, I trust you . I know that you wouldn't lie to me."
"I won't," Scott promised.
They went silent again, just holding each other, when Scott felt Derek kissing his brow gently, just a simple brush of dry lips against his skin, but it still made the teen feel warm inside.
“I’m rather awful at relationships, my own were all complete disasters so I can’t offer you any advice, but no matter what, I want you to know that I’ll be there for you. Even though I haven't said it before, I love you, too," Derek said quietly, almost timidly. "You don’t just… endure my presence as most everyone I meet tends to do, but instead you make me feel like I’m special to you, like I’m needed . And no matter what your relationship with the other me was like, I'm grateful to have you in my life now."
"Of course I need you!" Scott assured. "I can't imagine- I wouldn’t want to go through this without you. In my other life you were my enemy at first, then a reluctant ally, and finally my friend and mentor."
"I'm glad that this time we have skipped the first part, then," Derek said with a wry smile.
Scott returned his smile and buried himself deeper into his embrace, which had loosened a bit when he had been telling his story.
"How would you feel about spending the next full moon together, with me, Peter and Chris?" he asked after some time.
He almost felt Derek's confusion. "Chris?"
"Chris Argent, he's a friend of mine. He was the one that gave me the wolfsbane bullet to help treat your wound, so I thought it would be good for the both of you to finally meet," he explained.
"I'll think about it. But, an Argent? You have the weirdest taste in friends," Derek commented with disbelief.
Scott thought about druids, banshees, kitsunes, and a hell-hound for good measure, and realized that a werewolf hunter was the most ordinary of them all. So he simply said: "You have no idea," and left it at that.
Chapter Text
The days went by quickly and before he knew it, Scott realized that it was Saturday morning already and he hadn't seen Peter for a week now. He could already feel a persistent tug of their bond demanding his attention, and he sent a calming wave down their link. Soon , he promised.
"Mom, would you mind if Peter visited today?" he asked over breakfast.
"Of course not, he's welcome anytime," she answered easily. "Why, do you have something planned for today?"
"Nothing in particular, it's just that our pack bond is still fresh and normally I would spend more time with him to help it settle properly," Scott explained. "Also, since we haven't seen each other for a week, please don't be surprised if I'm really affectionate with him, alright?"
"Affectionate how?" Melissa asked suspiciously.
Uh-huh, he remembered that frown perfectly, his mom had had exactly the same expression when they had been discussing 'no sex with Derek' rule.
"Don't worry, I mean hugs and casual touches like patting his hand or shoulders, nothing more," he assured her and she nodded with obvious relief.
"Are you this close to all of your… packmates?" Isaac inquired.
"My pack is rather small at the moment, but generally speaking yes, especially during the first weeks after the bonding. Is this going to be a problem?" he asked, trying to keep his voice mild and calm. He didn't want to argue with his boyfriend yet again, but he wasn't going to fight his instinct to be close to his packmates just because Isaac couldn't accept it.
"No, not at all," Isaac answered quietly. "I'm alright with you being a werewolf but it's still all new to me, so could you please stop being so defensive each time I ask a question about it?"
Scott instantly felt guilty at seeing the hurt expression on his boyfriend's face, and he realized that he had immediately assumed that Isaac would argue with him over this.
"I'm sorry, I guess I'm just over sensitive about this," he admitted, kissing him softly on the cheek in apology. "Forgive me, please?"
Isaac relaxed at once and said with a wink: "Kiss me properly and I'll consider it."
"No kissing at the table!" Melissa protested sternly. "Go to your room if you want to make out, but leave your poor mother out of it."
The boys snickered at the order but complied nevertheless.
"Let me text Peter and ask if he wants to drop by," said Scott once he finished eating and he took out his phone.
"Hi Peter, do you want to spend the day with me and my family? Mom's given the green light already," he typed quickly.
"I don't know, is there going to be something sweet to eat?" Peter wrote back and Scott snorted.
"Are chocolate chip muffins enough to bribe you?" he asked.
"More than enough. Better start heating up the oven, I'll be at your place in 45 min."
Scott smiled widely and looked up when Isaac nudged him lightly. "What did he say?" the blond boy asked curiously.
"It's Peter, of course he couldn't just say yes, he demanded muffins as a payment," Scott rolled his eyes with a fond smile.
"A man who knows his worth, I like it," his mom said and blushed when both boys looked at her incredulously. "What? Am I not allowed to have an opinion on men?"
"There's a difference between an opinion and a preference… " said Scott, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and she swatted him lightly with a dishcloth in response.
"Young man, you better start preparing those muffins you promised to Peter since they won't magically bake themselves," she reminded him.
That was quite true so Scott stood up, stretching up lazily. "You wanna help?" he asked Isaac.
"If I get to eat a couple, sure," the blond boy agreed easily and they went to the kitchen together.
***
When the doorbell rang, Scott had his hands full of a hot baking tray and Isaac was washing the dishes, so Melissa went to open the door. When Scott finished placing the hot muffins on the plate, he looked up just in time to see his mother appearing in the kitchen with a bouquet of pale pink roses and peonies which she put into a vase. Or at least he thought that they were peonies but he certainly wasn’t a flower expert by any stretch of imagination, so he might be wrong.
"If my mom gets a bouquet, what do I get?" he asked with a pout once Peter entered the kitchen and greeted all.
"Do you have anything specific in mind?" Peter asked, raising an eyebrow.
"A hug wouldn't be amiss," suggested Scott and he went to embrace his Beta, the man returning his hug eagerly, the link between them pulsing with warmth and happiness.
"Thank you for coming," he murmured, but in truth he also meant: I missed you.
"Thank you for inviting me," Peter answered, and Scott was almost able to hear the underlying thought: I missed you too.
When they finally separated, Melissa said to Peter: "If Scott hasn't already explained how the pack works, I would be very much concerned about your relationship with him."
"What can I say? He's my Alpha," Peter said simply and Scott beamed at him. "Now, I believe that those muffins are calling my name, asking to be eaten. Shall we?"
They went to the table where Scott sat next to Isaac and Peter next to Melissa. Suddenly Scott felt an overwhelming feeling of being among his loved ones, his family, and he was so grateful for it that he had to blink hard as his eyes misted over with tears.
"Hey, is everything alright?" Isaac asked him quietly, taking his hand in his.
"I'm fine, I'm just happy," Scott said and kissed him softly on the lips.
"What did I say about kissing at the table?" Melissa asked sternly.
"Moooom, this one was completely chaste," complained Scott.
Peter snickered openly. "I really need to visit more often, it's not everyday that I get to see the big Alpha werewolf being chastised by his mother. Priceless!"
"Yes, have fun at my expense, why don't you?" grumbled Scott petulantly, folding his arms and making Peter snicker even louder. "You know that in revenge I'm going to ask Derek for all the blackmail material that he's got on you, right?"
That made Peter try to hide his amusement by grabbing a muffin. When he bit into it, he made an appreciative sounding "mmmm", his face showing a pure bliss which can only be induced by a chocolate goodness.
"That was delicious," he said once the muffin was a memory and the only proof of its existence were small crumbs on Peter's plate. "So, how was school, boys? Anything worth mentioning?"
Scott looked at Isaac and said: "Since I'm not going to the prom due to the full moon, Isaac invited Allison, you know, Chris' daughter?"
Peter looked surprised, but after a moment of thinking about the arrangement he said to Isaac: "Well, Chris is quite a decent man for a werewolf hunter, so if his daughter is anything like him, I'd say that it's quite a good choice."
Isaac looked slightly uncomfortable at the attention, but pleased nevertheless as he said: "Thank you, and yes, she's been great so far."
"So, do you have everything ready for the ball?" Peter asked absentmindedly while grabbing another muffin and he didn't notice at first how Isaac blanched at the sudden realization that he was, in fact, completely unprepared.
"That's still… work in progress, I guess?" Isaac said weakly.
"Well, I could take you shopping, if there's still something that you need," Peter offered easily.
"I beg your pardon?" asked Melissa, clearly offended.
Sensing an impending disaster, Scott realized that he needed to step in, and quickly. "Mom, stop whatever you're thinking right now, and let me assure you that Peter never intended to imply anything wrong."
"Well, it awfully sounded as if he thought that I couldn’t provide for my kids!" she huffed.
"What? I never said that," Peter protested.
"Let me act as a translator, mom," Scott said patiently. "I'm a part of Peter's pack, which means that by extension Isaac is as well, not as close, but definitely a family. And for werewolves, sharing among the pack is completely normal, expected even. Just so you know, Derek has already said that if I require anything I only need to ask. So Peter making an offer to take us shopping was as natural to him as, let's say, offering to buy us ice cream."
Melissa calmed down a bit and she asked Peter: "Is Scott right?"
"Of course he is," said Peter as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, then added gently: "I never wanted to offend you with my offer, Melissa. I'm perfectly aware how hard you work and how much effort it took to raise a kid on your own, and you did a splendid job of that. But Scott's my Alpha now which means that his loved ones are also mine, and I take care of the people close to me."
"Oh," she said weakly. "Welcome to the family, then?"
Peter rolled his eyes and said lightly: "I'm going to ignore the question mark at the end of that statement and just appreciate the sentiment. So, I hope you won't mind if I take the boys to the mall?"
She didn't mind.
***
While accompanying Allison in her search for the perfect dress, Chris was painfully reminded why he usually left this kind of activity to his wife, and that was because he was completely, utterly useless when it came to women's fashion. To him, each dress looked perfectly acceptable but this kind of an open mindset apparently wasn’t appreciated by his daughter who seemed to expect critical, objective advice from him... which just wasn’t going to happen.
He walked around the shop feeling useless and out of place as Allison kept browsing through clothes on the racks, when he heard a male voice saying: “That’s not your colour, dear. Sorry if that was intrusive but considering your skin tone, I’d go lighter.”
Recognizing the voice, Chris looked around and saw Peter standing next to Allison, so he walked up to them. “Hi Peter, fancy seeing you here,” he offered his hand in greeting and was glad that the werewolf shook it without a moment of hesitation.
“Hello Chris, is this young lady your daughter, by any chance?” Peter asked.
“That’s right, this is Allison,” he introduced. “Allison, meet Peter Hale from Scott’s pack.”
He was happy to see that his daughter immediately lost the spooked look about her and she smiled with a sudden recognition.
“You’re Derek’s uncle!” she exclaimed with enthusiasm, before she remembered her manners. “I mean, nice to meet you, sir.”
Peter tutted with displeasure. “Please do me a favour and don’t call me ‘sir’ or else I’d need to wonder when I have started to look so old. Please call me Peter, as all my friends do.”
In that moment Chris caught a sight of Scott and Isaac walking around the male section of the shop. “Would it be correct to assume that you’re with these two, hm?” he asked, pointing at the boys.
“That’s right, but when I saw a girl looking at a dress completely unsuitable to her fair complexion, I needed to step in, I just couldn’t help myself,” Peter admitted.
“Are you familiar with fashion?” Allison asked, her interest immediately piqued.
“Familiar? It’s my calling, beside being a werewolf of course,” Peter said, puffing his chest exaggeratedly and causing her to laugh.
“In that case, would you mind giving me some advice? My dad’s dreadful about this kind of stuff,” Allison said with a grimace and Chris would have protested if it wasn’t the complete and utter truth.
“My dear, you just got yourself a stylist,” Peter said with a delighted grin. “Chris, would you mind if we switched and you helped Isaac get his suit while I guide your daughter through the intricate meanders of matching colours to a skin type?”
Not waiting for his response, Peter started to explain to Allison that she was evidently a winter skin type and that she should consider icy pink and silver dresses. Not understanding even a half of what the man was saying - what seasons had to do with skin of all things? - but seeing the enraptured look on his daughter’s face, Chris decided that she’ll be fine and he left the two of them to their discussion.
“Hi Scott, Isaac,” he greeted the boys once he joined them in the men’s section.
“Hi Chris, it’s so good to see you!” Scott smiled warmly.
Isaac on the other hand looked conflicted and he frowned uncertainly.
“What’s the matter?” Chris asked worriedly.
“I don’t know, maybe I don’t feel all that comfortable around a man who has hurt my boyfriend?” the boy asked, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.
Chris nodded slowly as he was reminded of his wrong doings and he said carefully: “I’m sorry, I assure you that it won’t happen again.”
“Good, see that it won’t,” Isaac muttered rebelliously.
They were silent for a moment, so Chris added gently: “Since Peter made it his mission to help Allison pick up a dress, I thought that I could assist you with choosing a suit, but if you don’t want me around, I’ll understand.”
“No, I… I overreacted, and I was rude, I’m sorry,” Isaac said quietly, looking away.
Chris hated to see him so skittish and unsure of himself, so he put a hand on his shoulders comfortingly.
“It’s okay, it was an understandable reaction,” he assured him softly.
As the three of them started to browse through the suits again, Chris made sure to engage Scott and Isaac equally in the conversation, not wanting either of them to feel left out. Ever so slowly, Isaac started to relax around him and before they finished shopping, he was smiling again, which Chris counted as a success.
Chapter 51
Notes:
Hello, lovelies!
On this New Year's Eve I wish you everything beautiful and plentiful in your life, lots of love and care, and I hope that you're kind to yourself in these weird times.
This chapter is about self-discovery, about knowing oneself and how important it is. I hope you'll like it.
Take care!
Chapter Text
When it was finally the evening of the Winter Formal, Isaac was a mess of fear and excitement. What if he made a fool out of himself? He was far from being the life of the party, after all. Maybe once Allison realizes that he's socially awkward, she'll regret coming with him to the ball in the first place?
"You'll be fine," Scott said calmingly, helping him to tie his tie properly, since when Isaac tried to do this by himself, the results were quite pitiful. "You're handsome, and a good company once you stop being so self-conscious. Also, you have a wicked sense of humour, which is quite similar to Allison's, so I'm sure you'll find a common language in no time."
Isaac blushed at all the compliments so Scott gave him a quick peck on the lips, but when Isaac made a quiet noise conveying his disappointment, he pulled him into a long, sensual snog, leaving both of them breathless in the process.
"Now, you're ready to go," Scott said with a satisfied smirk, and Isaac swatted him on the arm playfully, before sobering a bit.
"Are you alright with me going without you?" he asked quietly even though they had discussed this already, and Scott embraced him for a moment.
"Don't worry, I'll be fine," Scott assured him. "I'm going to spend the evening with Peter, Derek, and Chris, and then I'm going to wait for you to come back so that you can tell me everything about the ball, alright?"
Isaac nodded wordlessly, and Scott handed him the suit jacket, whistling with appreciation once he pulled it on.
"You're made to wear suits, love. You look perfect like this," his boyfriend said, clearly impressed, and Isaac immediately stood up straighter, his self-confidence getting a huge boost.
Maybe this evening won't be such a disaster, after all.
***
Chris didn't think he had ever been this perplexed. He had thought that he knew everything there was to know about werewolves, but now he stood corrected. Apparently, besides being dangerous beasts if angered or provoked, werewolves were also incredibly cuddly and affectionate, which he wouldn't have ever believed if he didn't get to see it with his own eyes.
It started from Scott’s warm hug which he was greeted with the moment he entered Peter's apartment, but it only progressed from there. The way all three werewolves acted around each other, the small touches, the absentminded caresses, it was all very… domestic.
He was pulled out from his thoughts when Scott said to Peter: "How about we check your control, now? Are you up for some exercises?"
Chris was surprised, because why would a born werewolf, who had more years of experience than Scott was alive, need training in control? But to his amazement Peter only nodded and sat up straighter in his chair.
"Alright, let's start with something easy. Show me your claws, first," Scott instructed.
Peter's hands immediately changed shape, resembling paws now, and his nails lengthened into sharp, vicious claws.
"Brilliant!" the young Alpha beamed. "Now, change them back."
Peter focused for a moment but nothing happened. "I don't know why it's not working, I've done it hundreds times before," he said with a frown.
Scott patted his hand comfortingly. "Don't worry too much, let's check first if it's only you. Derek, would you mind doing the same exercise?"
"I'm not the one with control issues here," Derek muttered but he complied nevertheless, transforming his hands back and forth without any issues.
Peter frowned even harder, visibly trying to force his hands to his human look but without success. Seeing this, Scott suggested gently: "Try to focus on the sense of yourself and tell me what you feel when you're trying to change back. Is there anything unusual about your emotions then?"
"I feel… resistance. Like something is rejecting my efforts." Peter said slowly, his eyes unfocused as he looked into himself.
"What is the feeling behind the resistance? Is it hatred, anger, or maybe fear?" the young Alpha pressed.
"No, it's more like… frustration, apprehension and restlessness," Peter admitted, then blinked to get his eyes to focus.
"Alright, I think I have an idea what is causing your problems," Scott said finally, looking deeply in thought. "How would you describe your current relationship with the wolf inside of you?"
"His what?" Chris blurted, unable to contain his curiosity any longer.
"Every werewolf has an animal spirit inside of them," explained Scott patiently. "It's a part of us, a kind of a symbiotic being that when it's fully accepted, it's hardly distinguished from its human host. But when the human is neglecting or rejecting their animal counterpart, the wolf can resist the host, especially on the night of the full moon."
"The wolf doesn't like being caged for too long," Derek added, nodding approvingly at Scott's words.
"But I'm not rejecting my wolf," protested Peter. "How could I, since I've been a werewolf my entire life?"
Scott stood up from his chair and walked up to Peter, standing directly behind him.
"What are you doing?" Peter asked, and Chris was surprised to hear a hint of fear in his voice.
"Relax, I'm not entering your mind if that's what you're afraid of," Scott said, placing his palm on the back of Peter's neck. "How does your wolf react to my presence?"
"It's calmer, happier," Peter admitted.
"Try to change your hands back to their human form, now," Scott instructed, his voice calm and steady, almost hypnotic. "Don't try to force the transformation, just allow the wolf to fade away to the back of your mind. It will always be there when you need it, because you're just two sides of the same coin."
Slowly, Peter's hands lost their animalistic look and he breathed in relief. "Thank you, Alpha," he murmured quietly.
"You're welcome," Scott said with a small smile, caressing the back of the man's neck soothingly for a moment before he sat in his chair again.
"That was incredible," Chris said, honestly awed. "How did you know what was causing the issue?"
"Peter's wolf has been caged for six years, it's no wonder that it seems to be apprehensive about being imprisoned again, and it resists each attempt at containing it," Scott answered. "But it trusts its Alpha, and that's a good sign, showing that with enough time and patience it will settle down."
"So what do you suggest that I do for now?" Peter asked.
"It would be good if once in a while you transformed fully into your wolf form and allowed yourself to roam free through the woods," Scott said after a moment. "For safety measures I would advise doing this only with myself or Derek present, never alone, and preferably far from civilization. But once your wolf realizes that we're not imprisoning it, it should stop opposing you so much."
Chris was listening to their discussion fascinated, enraptured even. In the span of one afternoon he had learned more about werewolf nature than he thought possible. What's more, he had the unique possibility to observe their interactions closely and what he had learned astounded him.
"Why are you two following Scott’s lead?" he asked, then added quickly as he saw Peter and Derek bristling at his question: "I'm not trying to attack or insult you, I'm just curious how it came to be. It's unusual for such a young Alpha to gain followers so quickly."
"He's a perfect Alpha, you saw it yourself, he's really great at this," Derek explained simply. "My wolf knows this and follows him, and so do I."
Peter only nodded, for once being less talkative than his nephew.
"Peter, is everything alright?" asked Scott worryingly, seeing that.
The older werewolf said slowly, hesitantly: "I… have a lot to think about, but not in a bad sense. I just need time to figure it all out."
"Alright. Will you tell me when you're ready to talk?" Scott asked and Peter nodded. "Okay, I think that we all deserve some cuddle time, now."
Cuddle time? Chris' thoughts did a mental equivalent of a somersault at the suggestion. They were adult men, surely Scott was not having an actual cuddle in mind, right? But when the werewolves turned off the lights, leaving only one lamp on, and promptly heaped in one big pile on Peter's huge sofa, he looked at them in disbelief that yes, they meant cuddle time quite literally. Observing them, he couldn’t make up his mind if they looked childish or indecent, or both.
"Why are you still sitting there? Peter, scoot over and make some space for Chris," Scott nudged the older werewolf with his elbow. "Come on, Chris, stop dilly dallying and join us. It's nice, you'll see."
The whole idea was preposterous, outrageous, even. Adult people did not do cuddles, unless with their children, and only when they were small. It was ridiculous that he was even considering joining them. But… what was the worst thing that could happen, they'll hug him to death?
Shaking his head incredulously, he took off his shoes and squeezed himself into the small space between Scott and Peter. For a moment he just kept lying there stiffly, before deciding that if he was taking a leave of his senses, he might as well do it properly, and he hugged Scott to himself while Peter circled his waist with his arm.
It was warm and pleasant, and once he relaxed fully he couldn't recall why he had resisted in the first place. He liked the closeness, the casual intimacy between them, their soft laughs when Scott wiggled a bit, causing Derek to complain about his knobbly knees and sharp elbows. Finally, they all settled into comfortable positions, and the only sounds that could be heard was their calm breathing and soft rustling of the fabrics every now and then.
After an indefinite amount of time he started to doze off when he felt Scott shaking him slightly.
"Whatisit?" he mumbled, barely awake.
"It's after midnight already, would you give me a lift? I want to wait for Isaac at home," the teen said quietly.
He blinked, trying to shake off his sleepiness. "Sure, give me a moment."
They stood up, waking up Peter and Derek in the process, but Scott just murmured: "Go back to sleep, we'll see ourselves out," and he covered them with fluffy blankets.
"Yes, mother," said Derek with a roll of his eyes, but he tugged the blanket around himself so that only his head was sticking out, causing Scott to snicker with amusement.
Peter only blinked sleepily at them and went back to sleep once Scott ran his fingers through the man's hair calmingly.
"You're really their Alpha," Chris said with awe as they left the apartment, closing the door quietly behind them.
"I am," Scott confirmed with a small, shy smile. "And I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world."
***
Allison looked beautiful in her silver dress, there were no other words for it, and her make up was truly a work of art, the glitter on her eyelids causing her eyes to sparkle in a way that made Isaac weak in the knees.
Their first dance was awkward, as they didn't know how to act around each other and their moves were stiff and wooden. However, when Allison stepped on his toe by accident, they looked at each other and giggled uncontrollably, realizing how ridiculous they were, acting so skittish around each other.
Things progressed nicely from there, and soon they were dancing together as if they were doing it for years. Their bodies were a perfect fit when they moved around the dancefloor, and soon they were sweaty, flushed and brushing against each other in sync.
Suddenly, the music changed to a slow, romantic ballad and Isaac saw Allison's indecision if they should keep dancing or not. On an impulse he placed his arms around the girl's waist and pulled her closer to him.
"Is that alright?" he asked, his lips brushing slightly Allison's earlobe and he felt her shuddering in his arms as she nodded wordlessly.
Their shared body heat was intoxicating and Isaac felt light-headed at the softness of Allison's body, the feeling of her breasts pressed close to his chest made him hunger for more. Almost as if hypnotized, he started to place small kisses on her neck, causing her breath to quicken.
"Isaac…" she moaned quietly, breathlessly, and he gave in to the temptation, capturing her mouth in a hungry kiss.
There was nothing shy about it, he kissed her with fervour, and she kissed him back equally passionately, her tongue moving around his as if they were one body. He felt himself growing hard with desire and by the way she pressed her body closer to him, she wanted this, wanted him too.
He had never expected to desire someone that much, even with Scott it was the other teen who usually initiated their sexual encounters… His thoughts suddenly came to a full stop, his delight turning into a horrified panic. Scott, oh God, Scott.
He moved away from Allison, cursing his traitorous body who longed to be close to her, especially when she was so aroused, if her blushing cheeks and parted lips were any indication.
She blinked and looked at him for a long moment, then she said: "You're thinking about Scott." This wasn't even a question, but a statement, full of certainty.
"I'm sorry, you're gorgeous and perfect but I can't- Scott doesn't deserve this. I just- he means so much to me," Isaac stammered.
"He's a lucky guy, then," she said, her tone laced with sad acceptance. "Could you please drive me home? I don't feel like partying anymore."
***
After an awkward goodbye with Allison, Isaac drove home in a daze. He was glad that Melissa was already asleep, and he went straight upstairs. He opened the door to his room hesitantly, his legs trembling so hard that he barely kept himself from falling, knowing that Scott would be there, waiting for him. He dreaded looking him in the eye, admitting to what he had done, but he would hate lying to him even more.
"Isaac, you’re back- What is it? What happened?" Scott asked with concern and immediately gathered him into his arms, kissing, touching, soothing. It felt like coming home, and in that moment Isaac hated himself for ever betraying his boyfriend's trust.
"I'm sorry, so sorry," he mumbled into Scott's chest, shaking uncontrollably.
"You're not making any sense, love. Please, tell me what’s wrong," Scott said, gently brushing his tears away.
"I… I kissed Allison, I didn't mean to- please don't hate me," he begged.
Scott stiffened, and Isaac's breath hitched in fear. Is this it, he thought, is this the moment when everything starts to fall apart? But then Scott kissed him softly on the lips and he almost felt faint from relief. Maybe their relationship could be salvaged still, maybe not everything was lost, yet?
"I could never hate you," Scott assured him. "But we need to talk about this, alright?"
Isaac looked away in shame, but he nodded as he owed Scott that much, and more.
"So, you kissed Allison. If we weren't together, would you like to be with her?" Scott asked gently as they sat on the bed.
Isaac bit his lip in distress. "I'm not sure, I mean, probably?" he said hesitantly. "She's smart, and funny, and she's gorgeous. I don't know her all that much, though, so I'm not sure if that would even work. But it doesn't matter, since I'm with you, does it?"
Scott shook his head and said: "I need you to think carefully about this: are you in love with me, or do you care about me, love me even, but without any romantic feelings involved?"
Isaac opened his mouth to answer him, but then he wondered. How did he truly feel about the other boy? He owed Scott so much, if it wasn't for him, Isaac would still live with his abusive father. But it wasn't only a matter of gratefulness, Scott was kind and caring, and he made Isaac feel wanted, safe, and cared for, so it was impossible not to love him. His presence in Isaac's life was so important, crucial even, that he couldn't imagine losing him.
But, was Isaac in love with him on a romantic and sexual level? Before kissing Allison he would say yes, but now he wasn't so sure. That girl made him feel like he was on fire, his whole body responded to her with an intensity that surprised him, even frightened him a little. He wasn't used to his own body being ignited so much by a mere touch or kiss. He enjoyed having sex with Scott, true, but he had never hungered for it so much. Even his jealousy and possessiveness was mainly focused on Scott's time and attention, not his body.
"I love you," Isaac said in a small voice. "But I think I may not be in love with you, after all."
Scott closed his eyes for a moment, a grimace of pain appearing for a split second on his face before he opened his eyes, his expression smooth again. "Then I think that we shouldn't be together any longer, not as a couple," he said, and Isaac looked at him in distress.
"But… you promised me that you won't leave me!" he cried brokenly before he could stop himself, and he instantly felt ashamed, since after today he didn't have any right to demand anything from Scott. "I'm sorry, I basically cheated on you, so I don't get to-"
Scott interrupted him gently but firmly: "I'm not leaving you. I'm giving you back your freedom so that you have a chance to find out what you want, what you desire. Nothing needs to change between us except for the fact that we won't be sexually involved anymore."
Isaac looked at him, unsure what the other boy meant. In response, Scott pulled him close and kissed his temple with tenderness that made Isaac's heart sing and ache at the same time.
"This? It has nothing to do with sex and I'll gladly hug you even if you end up with Allison, and I hope that she won't mind that either," Scott said quietly, his strong embrace soothing Isaac fears.
"So, what you're saying is that even if we won't be together, you'll still care for me?" Isaac asked quietly.
"Always. That'll never change," Scott promised. "When I became your lover, I knew that even if I was your first, I probably won't be the last. I promised to myself then that I'll do right by you, and I intend to keep my word. You deserve the chance to explore your feelings, your preferences."
Isaac felt moved, humbled even by the honest, pure love that Scott was offering him so freely, the warm understanding which he wasn't sure he deserved but which he was grateful for.
Realizing that he was quite overwhelmed, Scott suggested lightly: "Come on, take off that suit and let's lie down. It's been a long night, for both of us, and we deserve to rest."
Isaac went to the bathroom to refresh himself and change into sleeping clothes. He went back to his room and looked at Scott shyly. "Can we still sleep in the same bed?"
"It would help us to get used to the changes if I started sleeping again in my own room, but not tonight. Tonight is for comfort and I fully intend to hold you in my arms all night long," Scott said, patting the bed near him invitingly.
Strangely shy, Isaac lay down beside him and pulled the duvet over them both, sighing with pleasure and relief when the other boy circled him with arms and pulled him closer.
"Thank you, for everything," he said quietly, placing his head on Scott's chest and listening to his calm heartbeat. "For not getting angry when you had every reason to. For being so understanding when all I did was to hurt and disappoint you."
"You could never disappoint me," Scott murmured and kissed the top of his head softly. "Remember that night at the graveyard when I came to visit you while you worked?"
Isaac smiled, thinking of the memory. "Of course, you brought me your mom’s cake! No one has ever done anything so nice for me before."
"We weren't a couple then, but it was the first time I realized how wonderful you are," Scott admitted with a soft smile. "So if you'll ever start to doubt how much you mean to me, please remember that night, since it proved that we don't need to be involved to care for each other."
Isaac realized that Scott was right, what they had together, it was beautiful and being a couple had nothing to do with it. In that moment, Isaac swore to himself that he won't ever neglect their bond, he won't allow their friendship to dwindle away no matter what the future would bring.
Chapter 52
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
When Allison got back from the ball with her eyes full of unshed tears, Chris was instantly worried. She didn't want to say why she was so devastated so he started to suspect the worst, that someone had hurt her and he was almost ready to go and snap that person's neck, when she admitted: "I'm ashamed of myself, alright? I was dancing with Isaac and then we just started kissing and now- Now I don’t know what to do anymore."
Chris felt faint. Maybe he shouldn't be so shocked, after all, since Allison and Isaac were both teenagers, and yet… Scott and Isaac had seemed to be so in love with each other. What could have happened to make Isaac kiss Allison, if he was already head over heels for someone else?
"Did you drink any alcohol? Did Isaac?" he asked his daughter sternly.
"No!" she protested. "Neither of us did, I swear. It was just… We were really close and it just… happened. But then Isaac said that he couldn't do this to Scott and we left the party. I know that Isaac is going to tell Scott everything, he won’t hide it from him. How can I look either of them in the eye when we meet on Monday?” she hid her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking.
His parental instincts finally kicked in and he embraced her tightly. "Hush, I know that right now it seems like the end of the world, but it's not. You'll get through this," he murmured, then asked softly: "Do you like Isaac?"
"I do, but if his heart belongs to Scott, then what difference does it make? I would be better off not liking him," she said bitterly.
Being a father to a teenage girl, in theory he knew that he would have to accept the fact that his little girl was bound to fall in love sooner or later. Still, he wasn't prepared for her to like the boy who was already dating someone, and that someone was Chris' friend. It made him feel divided, as he was acutely aware that someone was going to have their heart broken, and he hated the thought since he cared for all three of them. Still, Allison was his daughter, so no matter what his personal feelings on the matter were, he was going to be there for her.
"Sweetheart, it's the middle of the night so there's nothing that you can do right now. But tomorrow I'm going to call Scott and ask him how he feels about it all, alright?"
"You'd do that for me?" she asked him hopefully.
"I'm going to call him for his benefit as much as yours," he admitted. "He's my friend, I want to know how he's doing."
"I'm sorry I have put you in this position, dad," she said apologetically, but he shook his head.
"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. Try to get some sleep, and we'll face this together in the morning."
***
Scott woke up before Isaac and used that time to drink in the sight of his now former boyfriend. While asleep, he was looking even younger and more vulnerable than when he was awake, and Scott was once more reminded that his friends were only sixteen at the moment. They were all so young and focused on school, romance and everything in between that their presence was making Scott feel like a teenager too.
It had been nice to feel so young and carefree again, true, but he had this worrying feeling that the times of peace were about to come to an end and that he needed to get himself together. But he was sorely tempted to allow himself to have just one more day to be a teenager, and until Isaac was awake at least, to pretend for the last time that they were still together and that his heart was still unbroken.
With a slightly shaking hand, he ran his fingers through Isaac's hair, enjoying how smooth and silky it felt. Was this truly the last time he had the chance to do that? He hoped not. Would Isaac mind if he did that from time to time still, he wondered, or would Allison be against them staying so close to each other?
Apparently awoken by the touch, Isaac blinked sleepily at him and Scott kissed him chastely on the cheek.
"Hello, love," he greeted automatically before he could stop himself. "Sorry, I really need to stop saying that."
"No, don't apologize," said Isaac. "I know that it will take time to get used to not being together anymore, but it just feels so unreal, you know?"
Scott nodded and embraced him for a long moment before he pulled away reluctantly, saying: "I'll get my stuff and move them to my room."
Isaac sat up on the bed, hugging his knees to his chest and asked in a small voice: "Do you have to? It just seems so… final."
"I need to do this for myself," Scott said quietly. "It's painful, but I need to let you go, and this is my way of doing that."
Isaac swallowed and nodded wordlessly.
Scott picked up his clothes and went to his room, feeling like he was leaving half of his heart with Isaac, and mused morbidly if it was enough to keep living only with the remaining half.
***
When he told her about his and Isaac's break up, his mom looked worried and saddened all at once, but didn't try to interfere, which he was thankful for. He didn't need any advice or empty platitudes. What's done was done, after all, and the only thing left to do now was to allow the time to heal that wound. He wished werewolves' hearts healed as fast as their bodies, but apparently it didn’t work that way.
Scott started to prepare breakfast when Isaac came downstairs, hovering uncertainly at the door.
"Would you mind cutting the veggies?" asked Scott softly. "I have my hands full with the omelette."
"Yeah, sure," the boy answered, then grabbed a knife and cutting board and started to slice the peppers. They worked in silence for a couple of minutes, when Isaac suddenly hissed loudly as he cut his finger deep enough to cause it to bleed.
Scott was by his side in a split second, putting Isaac's wounded hand under running cold water while he grabbed the adhesive band-aid from the drawer. Once he dried the wound gently and put the plaster on, he finally looked at Isaac who was staring at him with a weird expression.
"What is it? Are you in pain?" he asked worriedly.
"What? No, it's just a cut, it only stings a little. I just… I was distracted because I was worried that you may not want me around after all, since you left the room so abruptly," Isaac explained hesitantly.
"That's the complete opposite of the truth," Scott assured him. “While we need to figure out how to act around each other now, shutting you out of my life is the last thing I want.”
"I don’t want to shut you out either," said Isaac quietly, before smiling shyly. "Let me finish cutting the veggies, I promise that I'll be more careful this time."
The breakfast had every potential to be tense and awkward, but to everyone's surprise, it wasn't. Seeing Isaac relaxed and acting more naturally helped Scott to deal with his own fears and uncertainties. He even asked the boy about the ball and smiled at all the details, from the crowded parking place and poor catering service to enjoyable music and awesome disco lights.
"I'm glad that you had fun," he said honestly, taking Isaac's hand in his for a moment, trying to convey through this gesture everything that he couldn't say aloud with his mom present.
Please be happy, because when you are, I'm happy too, he wanted to say. We still have each other and we'll get through this, together.
When Isaac squeezed his hand in response, his heart felt the tiniest bit lighter than just a moment before.
***
They were just finishing eating when Scott’s phone rang. Seeing that it was Chris calling, he excused himself from the table and went upstairs to his room.
"Hi Chris," he greeted him once he lay down on the bed, wanting to be comfortable for a conversation that was probably going to be anything but.
"Hi Scott," the man said then fell silent for a moment.
"Allison told you," Scott guessed.
"Yes, she did," Chris sighed heavily, obviously not knowing how to start their conversation.
"How is she?" Scott asked worriedly. "I had the chance to talk with Isaac, but she was left alone in all of this, it must have been difficult for her."
"Scott, just for one moment please stop putting everyone else above your own well-being and just tell me how you're feeling," Chris said, exasperated.
"What can I tell you? I broke up with Isaac and I feel hurt, and sad, but I'll live. And just for the record, I didn't do it out of anger, but because he needs the chance to explore his needs and preferences," he explained. "But I still care about him, and I'd do everything to see him happy, so if he and Allison will end up together, I'm not going to stand in their way."
"I don't know what to say. I'm not sure if I would say the same if I were in your place," Chris admitted.
"Chris, they're sixteen . They're not meant to commit to a life-long relationship at this age," Scott reminded him.
"You're saying it as if you were an old man, yourself," Chris scoffed as if the mere idea was silly to him and not knowing how close he actually came to the truth.
"Maybe deep inside I am an old soul, who knows?" Scott said lightly, then added more seriously: "I know who I am and what I want to do with my life, and that is staying in Beacon Hills and building my pack, while Isaac wants to go to college and see the world. We were never meant to last more than a few years, at most. It pains me that it happened too fast, and I wasn't prepared to let him go so soon, but I had to, so I did."
"I really need to stop being surprised each time you’re acting like an adult," Chris said and Scott blushed despite himself. "I know that you're an Alpha werewolf and all that, but if you need me, for anything, just let me know."
"Thank you, that means a lot to me," Scott said honestly. "And don't worry, if I wanted to talk with someone, you and Derek would be my first choice."
"What about Peter?" asked Chris, surprised.
"He's got a lot of his own stuff to deal with so the last thing I want is to burden him with mine," Scott admitted. "But don't worry, I know better than to bottle up my emotions, it's never a good idea, especially for a werewolf. I promise that I will reach out to you or Derek if things ever become too much."
"I'm glad. And thank you for not being angry at Allison, she was really nervous about your reaction," the man said.
"Please tell her to stop worrying, I'm not blaming Isaac for what happened, and I'm not blaming her either. And if I see on Monday that she's sad or stressed, then I'm going to be very angry indeed," he threatened jokingly.
"I'll tell her that. Thank you, for everything."
"No, Chris, thank you for calling and for caring. I really appreciate it," Scott said with feeling, and he meant it.
Notes:
Coming soon: Have you wondered what was happening with the other characters while Scott, Isaac and Allison had their relationship issues? Well, we're going see things through Stiles' perspective next, so stay tuned!
Chapter 53
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Stiles wanted to be a good friend, he really did. When Scott had been bitten and became a werewolf, he was being supportive. Scott needed to bond with his pack? Sure. Scott wanted to spend some time with Isaac? That was perfectly understandable as well. But somehow giving Scott the time and space that his friend needed had turned out to be a mistake, as it didn't leave much time and space in Scott’s life for Stiles. And that hurt, a lot.
So when Scott hadn't called him before or after the Winter Formal to ask him how it went, Stiles decided that enough was enough and he was either going to be heard, or he was finding himself a new best friend.
(He really wouldn't do that, he knew. But fantasizing about it gave him the energy required to write to Scott on Sunday and demand a bit of his time, or else.)
"I don't care what you're doing right now, I need my best friend, and I want to meet today, not just someday," he texted Scott, feeling rebellious.
Needless to say, Scott knocked on his door less than an hour later, looking contrite. Even though Stiles wanted to remain mad at him for a little bit longer, he just couldn’t force himself to.
"I come bearing gifts," Scott said with an apologetic smile, showing him a bag full of sweets, chips and other goodies.
"I’m not going to be so easily bribed," he protested stubbornly, though he almost bounced at seeing some of his favourite snacks.
They went to the kitchen to get some plates, where Stiles' father was reading a newspaper.
"Hi, Sheriff," Scott greeted with a smile.
"Hello Scott, I haven't seen you in quite a while. How's your mother doing?" Noah asked.
"Still complaining that I'm going to give her gray hair, so same old, same old," Scott said jokingly.
That caused the Sheriff to chuckle. "I can certainly understand that. Raising a teenage son is not a walk in the park, that's for sure."
"Scott, stop giving my dad excuses to complain about me," Stiles whined. "Grab these bowls and let's go to my room."
"Yessir," said Scott, saluting exaggeratedly, which earned him a friendly shove from Stiles.
Sheriff just shook his head at their antics and went back to reading his newspaper while the boys left the kitchen bickering good-naturedly.
When they were finally settled in Stiles' room, sprawled on the floor - because why would they use chairs if there was a perfectly comfortable floor available? - Stiles said finally: "I know that I didn't have a partner for the ball, but I still went, you know? I wanted to have some fun, I felt like I deserved it. But then I saw Lydia leaving the dance floor with Jackson and I... I just couldn't stay away."
"What happened?" Scott asked.
"They were arguing, apparently Jackson didn't ask her to go with him until the day before the Winter Formal. Also, he arrived at the ball slightly drunk and kept drinking still, so Lydia got mad, like seriously mad," Stiles said with an impressed look on his face. "Man, you should have seen it, she was like rage personified! Her eyes were blazing as she tore into him, telling him that he was a lousy boyfriend, and that she deserved the best of the best, not a failure like him."
Scott winced visibly, and Stiles couldn't agree more, because much as he despised that entitled, arrogant piece of shit, what Lydia had said to Jackson was harsh, and he wasn't sure that even he deserved that.
"So she broke up with him, and Jackson spat in response that she was not that good in bed either way and that there were tons of girls out there better than her. Then he left, and she started to cry, and I just- I hated to see her like that, you know?" Stiles said, running his hand through his hair nervously.
"Stiles, what did you do ?" Scott asked, looking apprehensive. Well, not without a reason…
"I walked up to her and told her that she's brilliant, and beautiful, and that Jackson is a jerk who doesn't realize what he's just lost," he admitted.
"Oh my," Scott breathed.
"Yeah, it just caused her to cry even harder, and I don't even know why!" Stiles said, frustrated.
"Buddy, I hate to break it to you, but when a girl breaks up with a guy, it's not always because she truly doesn't want him anymore. Lydia might have done that to motivate Jackson to do better," Scott said, patting him consolingly on the arm.
"Well, why didn't she say that to him, then? She insulted him, he insulted her back, and then when I tried to make it better it backfired on me," Stiles lamented. "I told her that I had a crush on her since third grade but then she just sneered at me and said that she needed a man, not an inexperienced boy like me."
Stiles went silent, trying to blink away his tears. It wasn't very manly of him and by crying he was actually proving Lydia right, that he just wasn't worthy of her. "I'm never going to be enough for her, am I?" he asked bitterly.
"If she doesn't realize your worth, maybe it's she who doesn't deserve you," said Scott finally.
"What are you talking about? She's the most wonderful girl who has ever walked this earth, she's perfect!" Stiles protested, but Scott shook his head.
"No, she's not. She's pretty and smart, true, but sometimes she's also petty and vindictive. You're not doing her or yourself any favour by idealizing her so. I think it's high time that you faced the truth."
"What truth?" asked Stiles, getting riled up.
"That you're not in love with Lydia, the living and breathing girl, you're in love with your own idea of her," said Scott seriously. "You've got this picture of a perfect girl in your mind, and that's not fair to her either. She wouldn't ever be able to live up to that image."
Stiles stiffened and said quietly: "Get out."
"What?" Scott asked, surprised.
"If you're only going to criticize me, then go back to your own perfect boyfriend and leave me alone!"
"Not my boyfriend anymore," Scott corrected him, but stood up and started to gather his things.
"What are you talking about?" Stiles asked, surprised.
"Isaac kissed Allison at the ball and we broke up," Scott said harshly, opening the door. "No one is perfect, I'm not, Isaac's not and Lydia's not either. I hope that someday you'll finally see that."
Having said that, Scott left, leaving Stiles alone in his room gaping after him in shock.
Stiles kept sitting as if rooted to the floor, even when he heard the front door closing after Scott, and he shook his head trying to clear his thoughts. Isaac had kissed Allison and Scott broke up with him because of that? When had that all happened?
Belatedly, he realized that maybe the fact that Scott hadn’t called him after the Winter Formal hadn’t been caused by the fact that he forgot about Stiles, or that he no longer cared about him. He apparently had his own drama to deal with, yet when Stiles had asked him to come, he had done so, no questions asked.
And Stiles had just told him to leave just because Scott had honestly told him what he thought about his issues...
After a moment, his dad came in and asked worriedly: "Everything's alright, son? Scott has left already?"
"I just got mad at him and told him to leave," Stiles admitted, feeling ashamed.
"Why? What did he do?" his dad asked him.
"He was just talking about how I idealize Lydia, but he doesn't know her like I do!" Stiles defended himself.
"Do you truly know her all that well, son? Have you been by her side when she's tired, or sick?" Sheriff asked gently.
"Well, no… But I know that she's perfect just the way she is," Stiles said, knowing that he probably had that besotted look about him, but he just couldn’t help it.
"Then I'm afraid that Scott might be right," his dad said and Stiles bristled, but his dad continued patiently: "How would you feel if a girl told you that she thought you are handsome and perfect in every way, and that she wanted to be with you because you're wonderful in her eyes?"
"Well, I would be flattered, of course, but I'd tell her that she's got the wrong guy. I'm nothing like that and if that's all that she knew about me, then she was in for a huge disappoin-" Stiles started to reply, then stilled abruptly.
Was this what he had been doing when it came to Lydia? Was he truly that infatuated that he was blind to everything else except for this image that he had of Lydia in his own mind?
Had Scott been right, after all?
"But I care for Lydia, I really do, it's not just a figment of my imagination," he said in a small voice.
"I know that, son," his dad said with compassion. "But maybe it's time to stop thinking of her like she's the girl of your dreams, and see the human being underneath?"
Stiles groaned. "You're right, and now I'd need to apologize to Scott. And he recently broke up with his boyfriend, so I feel like I'm an even bigger jerk, to treat him like that when he's probably heartbroken himself."
"Language," his dad chastised him as he sat beside him on the floor, his joints popping loudly. "He's been your friend for how many years now? He'll understand. Now, give me that bowl, there's no way I'm going to let you eat all that junk food by yourself."
As they munched on the chips, Stiles murmured: "Thanks, dad."
He had the most awesome father in the entire world, and he knew it.
***
Scott was feeling restless, like he had too much pent up energy, and it was a dark, suffocating feeling. He had this impression that he could explode at any moment, and he dearly wanted to smash something into tiny little pieces.
What does a man get to do when feeling like this? Scott texted his packmates, of course. "Hi, I broke up with Isaac and argued with Stiles and now I have this urge to destroy something. If you're up to it, meet me near your old house in the woods."
When Peter and Derek arrived, he was already pacing nervously. As they walked up to him, he said almost harshly: "I want you to attack me with everything that you've got. Can you do that?"
Derek looked worried and uncertain, but a hint of understanding appeared on Peter's face.
"I can," he offered, then asked, just to be sure what Scott expected of him: "No holding back?"
"No holding back," Scott confirmed, and Peter launched himself at him with his claws ready to strike.
The next few minutes were a blur of furious hits. At one point, Peter managed to overpower Scott causing him to drop to all fours, which Peter used to his advantage and kicked the teen hard in the ribs. Scott growled as he jumped up, grabbed him by the neck and threw him into the nearest tree with a mighty shove, a sound of broken bones resounding through the air. Peter moaned loudly as he slid onto the ground.
Scott blinked and was instantly by his side.
"Don't move," he said, already tearing Peter's shirt and revealing the bruised torso underneath. He quickly placed his hands on the naked skin, pushing his power into Peter and speeding up the healing process.
Derek joined them, a worried frown on his face. "Will he be alright?"
"Relax, nephew, it's not the first time that Scott has broken my bones," Peter wheezed with an obvious difficulty.
"Great, that sounded like I'm some kind of monster," Scott murmured, not stopping the steady flow of the energy which he was sending into Peter's body.
"Scott, dear, if you can fight like that with someone you care about, I'm much more confident about your ability to fight our enemies. As long as I'm able to heal, there's no harm done," Peter said lightly.
"Are you sure? I didn't mean to throw you that hard. I can grovel a bit, if you wish me to," Scott offered honestly.
"That sounds enticing, but no, no grovelling needed," Peter said with a small smile.
"Okay, your ribs should be fine now, tell me if something is hurting you still," Scott told him, wiping sweat from his forehead.
"I think I sprained my ankle during the fall," Peter admitted, grimacing with pain as he tried to move it.
Scott turned so that he had better access to the wounded leg and gently took Peter's boot and sock off.
"What are you doing?" Derek asked curiously, squatting beside him.
"I need skin on skin contact to be able to let my Alpha power heal the wounds," Scott explained, placing his hand on Peter's ankle.
"How does it feel?" Derek asked his uncle curiously.
"Warm, almost too hot but not quite," said Peter. "Maybe next time you'll be the one to fight Scott? I'm curious how he would fare against another Alpha."
Scott sobered instantly. "You're thinking about the Alpha Pack, aren't you?"
His packmates looked at him carefully.
"Have you met them in your first life?" asked Derek hesitantly.
"We both fought Deucalion and we won. It wasn't easy, but it can be done, and I wasn't even an Alpha werewolf then," Scott revealed and let go of Peter's ankle. "Go on, Peter, try to stand on it now."
"Do you know when he'll be coming to Beacon Hills?" his Beta asked, accepting Scott's hand and allowing himself to be pulled to his feet.
"Last time it was summer. Now, though? We should expect the Alpha Pack at any time now, since I talked with their emissary and it appears that Deucalion's really interested in me."
"You talked with his emissary? Why?" asked Derek.
"I wanted him to focus solely on me and forget that there’s another Alpha in Beacon Hills," Scott admitted.
"Scott… You put yourself in the spotlight, for me?" Derek shook his head incredulously. "I appreciate it, I really do, but you can't risk your life for me like that."
"I can, and I will," Scott said stubbornly. "I won't lose you, any of you. Deucalion's got another thing coming if he thinks that he can threaten the people I love."
Derek hugged him tightly in response, before he pulled back and said seriously: "Peter's right, next time you'll be fighting me, or even better, both of us at the same time. If you plan on facing Deucalion, we better be ready for it."
Scott nodded as he couldn't agree more.
Notes:
So, we met the Sheriff at last! And Alpha Pack's appearance is going to happen like very, very soon!
Are you excited? I know that I am!
Chapter 54
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Once Peter was completely healed, they went to Derek's loft since it was the closest. As it was starting to become their ritual, they bunked on the leather sofa, leaning comfortably against the pillows.
"So, spill. You and Isaac split up, how did that happen?" asked Peter.
"Stop being so insensitive!" Derek hissed at him. "Maybe he doesn’t want to talk about it?"
"It's alright," Scott assured the other Alpha, patting him on the hand. "I already talked with Chris about Isaac and the sparring before has helped as well, so I feel better now."
"You spoke with Chris first?" asked Peter with a pout. "Why him and not us?"
"Maybe because he called first to ask how am I feeling?" suggested Scott. "Seriously, guys, I care equally for all of you, just in different ways. And for the record, Chris doesn't know about the time travelling stuff, so you already have more insight on me than he has."
"Do you plan on telling him?" asked Derek curiously.
"I do, but he has let me down once, so I guess I'm waiting for him to prove himself that he’s fully on our side and that if he's forced to choose between being a hunter and my friend, he would pick me," Scott explained.
"That's… surprisingly pragmatic of you," said Peter approvingly.
"I'm not holding it against him, but a man cannot have divided loyalties for long," said Scott with a slight grimace, because it was a similar issue to the one he also had with Deaton. "Sooner or later, he will be forced to choose a side, and I need to make sure it is ours before I reveal anything of essence to him."
"Speaking of which… If you don't feel like talking about Isaac, how about you tell us something about that previous life of yours. I've been dying to know more and my curiosity is killing me," Peter said, almost vibrating with excitement.
Scott laughed, because that was the Peter he knew and loved, an endless source of energy, passion and thirst for knowledge. He much preferred to see this side of him, rather than the beaten down, depressed man which he had been recently.
"Alright, alright," he agreed with an indulgent smile. "So, what do you want to know?"
"Everything!" exclaimed Peter with a delighted gleam in his eyes.
"The Alpha Pack. Did we really beat them?" asked Derek curiously.
"Yup, we did. Though it would be more accurate to say that we only defeated Deucalion, as he himself killed Ennis as part of his nefarious plot, and Kali was killed by her former emissary which years ago she had mutilated and left to die," Scott admitted.
"Which obviously hadn't happened and Kali gained an enemy as a result," commented Peter tartly.
"Yes, exactly," confirmed Scott with a nod. "And that emissary, Julia Baccari, swore to kill the whole Alpha Pack in revenge, and actually came very close to succeed in her mission."
Scott shuddered at remembering exactly how close she came to taking down Deucalion’s pack.
Julia’s was a tragic story, she had been a victim traumatized to the point that she no longer cared for anything or anyone else besides revenge. Her life, and the lives of the people that she killed as life sacrifices were lost only because Kali had wanted to prove herself as worthy to join Ennis in the newly created Alpha Pack. If only Kali hadn’t been in love with Ennis… If only Deucalion hadn’t declared that he only accepted the Alphas who killed their packs… So many unnecessary deaths, so many lives lost, and Scott grieved them all.
Derek frowned and said: "Wait, if they were hell bent on killing each other, how have we become involved? Wouldn't it be better to just let them fight among themselves?"
Scott sobered instantly. "When a druid goes rogue, he or she gains power by animal and human sacrifices. Julia, later called Jennifer as she returned to Beacon Hills under an alias, murdered almost a dozen people to enact her revenge and Deucalion seemed like the lesser evil in comparison. So when she kidnapped my mom, Chris and Stiles' dad for her final sacrifice… Well, let's just say that she became my enemy number one, and I temporarily joined Deucalion to take her down."
His packmates were shocked for a moment.
" You joined Deucalion? That's the most… improbable scenario I could have thought of," Derek said incredulously.
"Well, you joined Jennifer in hopes that she would kill Deucalion, so for a short time we were fighting on the opposite sides," Scott said, taking his hand in his and trying to soften the blow.
Seeing Derek walking side by side with Jennifer, coming to fight him and Deucalion… It had been a painful sight. ‘Like brother against brother’, Deucalion had sneered at them, and he wasn’t wrong.
"I'd never…" Derek protested faintly.
"In this life? I know that you'd never do that. And the other Derek, he believed that Deucalion was the greater evil, and tried to do what he thought was right. Once he realized his mistake, he did everything he could to make amends," Scott said gently.
They went silent for a moment, and Peter finally broke the silence by asking: "How did that all end?"
Scott sighed and replied: "Jennifer surrounded herself with the mountain ash, thinking it would stop us, but I broke the barrier and became an Alpha in the process. She still refused to spare my mom and the rest, so Deucalion slashed her throat. Once she was dead, her spell stopped working and they were safe," he recounted those events.
"You broke the mountain ash barrier?" asked Peter, clearly awed. "I thought that was only a myth, that True Alphas could do that."
"Not a myth, I was able to do that in this life as well, so I still have the ability," Scott confirmed.
"What about Deucalion? Once the woman was no longer a threat, did he turn against us?" Derek asked.
"No, he didn't," Scott said quietly as his expression turned pensieve.
Of all the people that he had lost during the war with the hunters, Deucalion's been the one he was feeling the most guilty over. The man had refused to use violence again, tried to stay away from the conflict altogether, and only caved when Scott and Malia refused to take no for an answer. He wouldn't have been killed if it weren't for Scott's insisting on Deucalion teaching him how to fight without his eyesight. And even after all these years, Scott still felt as if he could've done something, anything, to prevent his meaningless, unnecessary death.
"Hey," Derek said quietly. "Everything's alright? For a moment you looked like your mind was in a very dark place."
"It was. Deucalion… He swore off all the violence after that night and became a true pacifist. He was also the pack's ally and he helped us from time to time, but he was trying to avoid any conflicts, and the one time that I actually talked him into teaching me how to fight, he was killed, shot multiple times. I... I never forgave myself for his death," Scott confessed, rubbing his eyes.
He was tired, so very tired of watching people dying, slipping away from his fingers just as Deucalion's hand slipped away from his when the man took his last breath. He remembered vividly how Deucalion's eyes had lost focus, his chest stopped moving. It had been the first of the many deaths that followed after, as the war between humans and supernaturals was long, bloody and vicious. And yet, even to this day, it was Deucalion’s death that still haunted him.
Scott's mind was still focused on his pain and grief, when he felt Derek's and Peter's arms circling him, holding him close. He closed his eyes, breathing in their scent, reminding him that he had his pack with him, he had another chance to make things right.
"I know that right now Deucalion is still the evil megalomaniac taking pleasure in tearing the packs apart, and I'll fight him to death to protect ours. But even if that happens, I'll always remember the man that he once was, and hope that somehow he could become one again," he said finally, his body trembling from all the sorrow and guilt.
"You know, I was closer to becoming someone like him than I would like," Peter said quietly. "All I cared about was power, and yet you showed me what I was truly missing, and it was love, pack and family. I don't know what it would take to change Deucalion, but we can try."
Scott hugged him with gratitude, overwhelmed by his acceptance.
"Thank you. And I can't tell you enough how determined I am not to let him harm you or Derek. He's not part of my pack, you are. So if you ever have to defend yourself against the Alpha Pack, please don't hold back,” he pleaded.
“Believe me, I don’t intend to,” said Peter with a dangerous smile. “I may not be an Alpha in power, but I’ll always be an Alpha in heart. If he threatens our pack, well then he’ll just have to reap the consequences.”
“Good,” Scott said. He didn’t expect any less, and was glad that his packmates were ready to defend themselves.
He would hate to lose any of them.
Notes:
If you saw the updated tags, then yes, this is going to be Scott/Deucalion story. Of course, things won't be easy at first, because clearly they are enemies still, and Deucalion's not going to be easily persuaded to just change his life.
I hope I'll be able to make it realistic, and that they won't fall in love with each other the very moment they see one another. But yes, this is the end game pairing my dear readers, and I'll fully understand if anyone stopped following this story if it's not to their liking.
Chapter 55
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The start of the new term was difficult, for all of them. Isaac and Allison were still acting awkwardly around each other, and for a couple of days Allison avoided both of them like a plague, not able to look either of them in the eye despite Scott assuring her through text messages that everything will work out and that he wasn't angry with her.
As for Stiles, he was acting all apologetic as he admitted that he now understood how shallow and unrealistic his crush on Lydia had been. So now Stiles avoided Lydia as well, which behaviour Lydia gladly reciprocated, and once again they were divided into two separate groups, Allison spending her time with Lydia and both girls avoiding the boys altogether.
Finally Scott got tired of the whole drama and dragged protesting Stiles to the table where Lydia was eating her lunch with Allison.
"Frankly speaking, I'm fed up with this whole divide, so Lydia - you will talk with Stiles now while I'll fetch Allison for a much needed talk with Isaac," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Which was exactly why Lydia decided to argue, after all. "I don't think so, we're not taking orders from you, right Allison?" the girl asked haughtily.
Allison took one look at Scott's serious face, and apparently some of his Alpha status must have shown in his eyes for a moment as she said timidly: "Actually, Lydia, I would listen to Scott on this."
Her friend gaped surprised at her. "Seriously? What happened to our saying 'we're strong women, we don't need them'?"
Scott rolled his eyes exasperatedly. "If you're as strong and independent as you claim, Lydia, you'll survive one uncomfortable conversation," he said decisively. "So, bite the bullet and just talk with Stiles, please."
He took Allison's hand in his and pulled her to her feet. She went willingly and they left Stiles staring at Lydia with trepidation. Still, they had their own issues to resolve, so not thinking about the pair anymore they joined Isaac, who blanched at seeing them together.
"Hi, Allison," he said quietly and the girl replied with "hello" just as quietly.
"Okay Allison, we really need to come clean about all that happened between the three of us," Scott said. "Isaac and I, we love each other, but since he's attracted to you, it became clear that he's not in love with me, so we broke up. We still care for each other very much, but we're not a couple, so if you want to pursue a relationship with him, that's fine with me. If that was only a spur of the moment kiss and you won't date each other, that's alright as well, but you would need to talk about this with Isaac. Do you want me to leave the both of you alone, so that you can talk with each other?" he asked.
"No, you may stay. Isaac… I've had a crush on you for quite some time now," Allison admitted, blushing, as she looked at Isaac coyly.
"You have?" Isaac looked surprised but quite delighted, Scott noted, and he crushed ruthlessly his jealousy before it started to eat at his insides.
"Yeah," Allison confirmed. "What about you?"
"I had a crush on Scott for a long time, so I can't say that I felt the same about you. But that one kiss that we shared… It was special, and it made me feel like all this time I was missing something, and I found it with you. I'd like to explore that feeling more," Isaac said honestly.
While Scott was glad that they trusted him and felt comfortable enough to speak so openly with him present, he slowly started to feel like a voyeur or a third wheel, or both.
"That's my cue to leave," he said quickly, seeing the heated look in their eyes, and he grabbed his tray and left the table in a hurry.
It didn't help that he truly didn't feel completely over Isaac, though he was slowly getting there, but he couldn't honestly say that he felt nothing when he looked at the blond boy. It would be much easier if a heart had a switch that could just turn feelings on and off on demand, but his own heart didn't work like that, at least, and he still felt a little bit in love with his former boyfriend.
Shaking himself from his thoughts, he wondered for a moment where he should sit, now. He looked around and saw that Lydia and Stiles were still talking, looking more at ease with each other than he ever remembered them being, at least in this lifetime. Seeing that all the tables were occupied, he finally spotted a table where only a single person was sitting.
Boyd.
Feeling nostalgic all of a sudden, he walked up to the tall boy and asked him: "May I sit with you?"
Boyd looked at him with surprise mixed with apprehension as he asked: "Why?"
And just like that, Scott was reminded why Boyd didn't have any friends. He was too straightforward, too direct and to the point, social politeness being completely lost on him. Most people hated it about him, but Scott found it refreshing and somewhat familiar, as Boyd reminded him of Malia in a way.
"I recently broke up with my boyfriend and since he's now pursuing a new relationship, I found myself without a place to sit," he admitted honestly.
Boyd only nodded and Scott took it as his approval, so he sat down, placing his tray on the table and rubbing his face with his hand.
"Tired?" Boyd asked with a hint of empathy.
"Yup. Emotions are exhausting as hell," Scott said, sighing heavily.
"Tell me about it," Boyd muttered, playing with his food dejectedly.
"Hey, you wanna talk about it?" offered Scott, starting to eat his lunch and making a face as it was lukewarm already.
"Not particularly," answered Boyd.
"Suit yourself," Scott shrugged and continued eating, completely at ease with not talking.
After a couple of minutes of eating in silence, Boyd said curiously: "Most people can't stand being quiet for long," which came out half as a statement and half as an inquiry.
"I'm not like most people, and you’re not either," Scott commented.
Boyd only nodded.
Once the lunch break was coming to an end, Scott stood up and said: "Would you mind if I sat with you from time to time?"
"What for?" Boyd asked with suspicion, though there was a not an insignificant amount of hope in his voice, as well.
"Sometimes I need a break from people, their problems and expectations. It seems that you're the person who wouldn't mind if I simply was, " he explained awkwardly. "Which now I realize sounds awfully egoistic of me since it suggests that I wouldn't want to hear about your problems, and I apologize."
Boyd just shrugged. "You were being honest. I don't have any problems besides being how I am, and it's not what most people are used to. If you ever want to sit with me, then just sit with me. I won't mind."
Scott beamed at him. "Brilliant! Thanks a lot."
As he left, he couldn't help but realize that Boyd looked bemused but quite pleased by their arrangement.
Was it really that simple, that easy to make Boyd feel better? Was it all that Scott needed to do, to just spend some time with the boy, not doing or saying anything of importance, but simply being ?
Scott wondered if he might want to have Boyd in his own pack after all, but he remembered how the other boy had struggled with his wolf nature during his first timeline, and he decided that it might not be that great idea. Still, they could be friendly with each other without Scott ever biting him. If Boyd's greatest problem was his loneliness, then he didn't necessarily need to become a werewolf because of it, after all.
***
A few days into the new semester, Scott spotted two similar faces in the school hall and he almost choked in surprise. It was the twins. Apparently he stared at them for a moment too long as they realized that they were being watched and they caught his eyes.
This was it, then. The time to meet the Alpha Pack for the first time, once more.
He walked up to them confidently. "You must be Aiden and Ethan, Deucalion's newest recruits," he said with a wide smile. "I'm Scott McCall, but I'm sure you know that already. Welcome to Beacon Hills."
As they shook his hand in greeting, their grasp almost too hard and forceful, as if judging his worth, he winked at them. "There's no need for that, boys. I'm not a great fan of power games that Deucalion enjoys so much."
They shared a curious look and Ethan asked: "What games do you prefer, then?"
"Lacrosse, of course," he said honestly and almost laughed out loud at their flabbergasted expression. "Why don't you come watch our practice sometime? Who knows, maybe you'll come to like the sport, after all."
He left, leaving them looking as bemused as Boyd had been and once he was out of their hearing range, he chuckled to himself. He was going to enjoy messing with Alpha Pack's heads very much.
Notes:
Yup, we met Boyd at last aaaand the Alpha Pack is here! Just a teaser for now, but we finally got there :)
Chapter 56
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Once the first euphoria of meeting the twins calmed down a bit, Scott felt apprehension settling in his stomach. The Alpha Pack, they were dangerous, all of them. True, most of the time Deucalion preferred mental games and emotional manipulation over blunt force, but that didn't mean that he wouldn't get his hands bloody if he deemed it a better intimidation tactic. But who could be on his radar? This time around, Scott was already an Alpha, so would that mean that Derek and Peter were in danger due to their ties with him? It was highly possible, he reckoned, but thankfully they were already aware of the threat. Who else, though?
The Argents? Deucalion didn't seem inclined to take his revenge on Gerard so far, but if he got his hands on the younger generation of the werewolf hunters, who knows how that would end. His mind made up, Scott decided to warn Chris, just in case, and called him between the classes.
"Hi Chris," he greeted the man.
"Hi Scott, aren't you in school?" Chris asked worriedly, and Scott rolled his eyes at him acting so parental.
"We have recess at the moment. Look, this is going to be a quick call, I just wanted to give you heads up that the Alpha Pack came to Beacon Hills," he explained.
His statement was met with a moment of silence.
"And you know this, how?" Chris asked with apprehension.
"Let's just say that Deucalion saw fit to send two of his Alphas, the youngest ones, to spy on me," Scott revealed. "They're currently pretending to be students."
"There are hostile Alpha werewolves in the school?" asked Chris, his shock clear.
"I'm afraid so," confirmed Scott. "They're not acting aggressive at the moment, but when it comes to the Alpha Pack you can be certain that they are plotting something."
"That's an understatement if I ever heard one… I'm going to claim family emergency and take Allison off the school for a couple of days, maybe longer," Chris decided.
"Isn't it a bit… drastic?" asked Scott, surprised.
"That may be so, but I'm doing it anyway," stated Chris darkly. "I'm not gambling with my daughter's life."
"Of course not," said Scott gently. "I understand."
"Thank you for informing me. It means a lot to me, that you have our backs."
Scott blushed at the heartfelt thanks. "Don't mention it. It's what friends do for each other, right?"
"Indeed. Take care of yourself, and be careful. I know that you're an Alpha yourself, but it's the whole pack of them, so please try to stay under their radar," Chris advised.
"I'm not sure that’s even possible, but I'll try," Scott promised and said his goodbyes.
***
Waiting for something bad to happen was truly a nerve-wracking experience and by mid-week Scott was already jumpy and irritable. He was looking forward to the lacrosse practice on Thursday, though, as he wanted to have a legit excuse to blow off some steam without having to worry about anything else beside winning the game.
Of course, things couldn't ever be that simple, he realized as he watched Jackson stumbling into the locker room visibly drunk, his steps unsteady and his words slightly slurred.
"I w's suppos'd to be the bloody cap- captain," he complained loudly.
"Jackson, what do you think you're doing, you can't be seen in such a state," Scott hissed, but it was already too late, Finstock had already seen Jackson.
"Well, well, well, you're even a bigger disappointment than I thought, Whittemore. You know that I can have you suspended for this stunt, don't you?" Coach asked with a sneer.
Jackson looked at him without comprehension, as if the idea of getting suspended for being caught drinking had never crossed his mind before.
"Please, Coach, it's his first offense, just give him a detention or something?" Scott tried to negotiate.
"I don't need y'r help," Jackson said with a slur.
"Shut your trap and be silent," growled Scott, fed up with his irresponsible behaviour, then turned to Finstock once again: "Please say yes and I'll try to sober him up a bit and I'll make sure he gets home safely," he tried bargaining.
This seemed to do the trick, as Coach said: "Since you offer so nicely… But if he pukes in here, you clean it up, is that clear?"
"Yes, Coach," Scott confirmed obediently.
"You're really doing this for Jackson of all people?" Isaac asked incredulously once Finstock walked away.
"Even he doesn't deserve being suspended," Scott answered with a sigh.
Isaac didn't look convinced, but offered loyally: "I could stay with you."
Scott shook his head. "No need, go and have some fun, at least one of us will have a nice afternoon."
"If you're sure…" Isaac hesitated, but Scott gave him a quick, chaste peck on the cheek.
"Thank you for offering, but I'll be fine."
Once they were alone, Scott looked at Jackson, who was leaning against the equipment rack heavily, trying to keep himself upright.
"Now, Jackson, you're getting all of that alcohol out of your system," Scott said with a smile that was full of teeth.
He dragged the protesting teen to the toilet and ordered him to force vomiting and threatened to push his own fingers down his throat if Jackson didn't comply. Looking suitably cowed, Jackson nodded meekly, and Scott left him to it. Ten minutes later, Jackson appeared at the door sweaty, flushed and tired, but looking slightly more lucid than before.
"Go and take a shower, you look like a shit," Scott said.
Jackson bristled with anger but Scott added: "Go, or I'll go with you, and I'm sure that you wouldn't like to be caught naked under a shower with a gay," he leered.
Hearing the threat, Jackson gulped visibly, grabbed his towel and went shakily to the bathroom. Trying to give him some privacy but still wanting to make sure that the drunk teen didn't slip and crack his head on the floor tiles, Scott hovered nearby, waiting for Jackson to finish showering, which admittedly took quite a while.
Once Jackson reappeared, he looked at Scott with anger and frustration and punched him straight in the face, causing his lip to split.
Scott wiped the blood from his chin calmly and just asked wryly: "Did it make you feel better?"
Jackson clenched his jaw. "No, it didn't," he said, clearly frustrated, but at least he was speaking without that alcohol-induced slur, now. A cold shower had truly done wonders to sober him up, it seemed.
"Why don't you tell me what you need, then. Should I hit you, or hug you? Or maybe just leave you alone? Tell me what you want, because to be honest, I have no idea what is going on in that head of yours," Scott said, feeling that he was almost at his wits end.
Jackson's hands jerked in an abandoned motion, as if he wanted to do something but changed his mind at the last moment and then he looked away, his shoulders sagging in defeat.
Scott was instantly worried because no matter how bad things were, Jackson didn't do defeat, ever. He took a step closer but not too close, careful not to spook the teen, and he suggested: "Let me ask one thing at a time, just nod or shake your head, alright?"
Jackson nodded jerkily, still not looking at him.
Scott's first question: "Do you want me to leave you alone?" received a head shake, so he kept asking, encouraged.
"Do you want to hit me?" That was also a negative.
"Do you want me to hit you?" There was a long moment of hesitation before Jackson shook his head slightly, and Scott breathed in relief, because while he would do it if he had to, he would rather not be forced to take such drastic measures.
"Do you wish me to hug you?" he asked with a crooked smile, confident that Jackson would splutter in protest at the mere suggestion, but the boy's shoulders sagged even more and even though he didn't nod, he didn't shake his head either, and that itself was telling enough.
"If you do, that's perfectly okay, you know?" Scott said quietly, and slowly he circled the other boy with one arm, pulling him closer, ready to step away at the first sign of rejection.
The hug was awkward at first, as Jackson obviously didn't know what to do with his hands until he finally figured out that he could simply hug Scott back. He did it almost shyly, his body finally relaxing as he slumped almost bonelessly into the embrace. Scott caressed his back calmingly, protectively, happy that he finally managed to break through Jackson's walls.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked after a long moment of just holding the other boy, but Jackson shook his head, so Scott didn't press.
"I'm not bent, you know," Jackson said at some point, his voice muffled a bit as his face was pressed into Scott's chest.
"How is that relevant? I'm hugging you, not snogging you," Scott said with a snort. "It's completely platonic, so it doesn't matter if you're straight or not. It may surprise you, but there's nothing wrong with physical affection between friends."
Jackson pulled away a bit, looking at him sharply. "But we're not friends," he protested.
"You're right, but that doesn't mean that we can't be," Scott offered.
"I'm not that eager to join your group of fans," said Jackson with disdain, moving away from him.
"Then don't," Scott shrugged. "Look, Jackson, I know you. You will resist my every attempt at befriending you, so I'm going to say it only once. My friendship, it's yours if you want it, but if you don't, that's your choice. Let me know once you made up your mind."
He started to gather his things, when he felt a hand touching his shoulders slightly. He turned around, looking at Jackson who appeared highly uncomfortable.
"I want it," the teen said it like he was admitting to something shameful.
"Then you have it," said Scott simply. "If you need to talk, I'm here for you. If you want a hug, you'll get one. But one thing that is off the limits, is insulting my other friends. You don't need to like them, but I want you to act civil around them. Can you do that?"
Jackson swallowed hard and nodded. "I can," he confirmed, and wanted to add something but hesitated.
"Go on," Scott encouraged him. "You clearly wanted to say something."
"I like rules," the teen blurted. "I like knowing what's allowed, what's expected. I'm not good at just- guessing things."
Scott looked at him carefully. It sounded suspiciously like Jackson had a submissive nature, but surely that was wrong? The teen had always seemed self-confident and proud to the point of arrogance. And yet, his erratic behaviour, the stubborn denial of his sexual preference, even his recent drinking issues, it all pointed out to Jackson simply being... lost.
"I like things being in the open as well. C'mon, let's sit down for this," Scott sat on the bench and gestured to Jackson to join him.
The teen sat down across him, looking apprehensive but also eager.
"I appreciate honesty, so if I do something that hurts or angers you, just tell me. This works both ways, so I'm going to be very open if you do something that I dislike, like those offensive comments about gays," Scott warned.
"Alright, sounds fair," Jackson nodded his approval.
"I also want you to tell me if you feel down, or if things become too much for you to handle. If I don't know that something is wrong, I won't be able to help you," said Scott gently but firmly.
"I don't need-" Jackson started to say, but then stopped himself and clenched his jaw. "Alright, I might need help, after all. Sometimes, not all the time," he added with a stubborn expression.
"That's completely normal, you should see me when I feel down. It doesn't happen that often, but when it does, I'm clingy like a kid," Scott confessed.
"From what I can tell, you're awfully physical all the time," Jackson retorted, and Scott chuckled.
"Well, true. But when I'm sad, my clinginess is off the charts," he admitted with a sheepish smile. "So, friends?" he asked, offering his hand for a shake.
"Just like that?" Jackson asked incredulously.
"Just like that," Scott confirmed with a smile.
"You're crazy, McCall," Jackson huffed but shook his hand.
"I'm not crazy, Whittemore, I'm one of a kind," Scott corrected him with a mock hurt.
As they left the school, they continued to banter in the same manner and with each friendly insult, no matter how ridiculous that sounded, Scott felt a tiny bit closer to his past/future packmate.
Neither noticed glowing red eyes observing them from afar.
Notes:
Yup, Scott finally gets closer to Jackson! Hurray!
But the threat of the Alpha Pack is looming on the horizon...
Chapter 57
Notes:
Warning for this chapter: graphic descriptions of violence, well, it's more violent than the whole story so far, at least.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Once Aiden and Ethan finished telling him what they had found about the young Alpha, Deucalion dismissed them and pondered on what he had just learned. So far, it seemed that while Scott McCall was well liked by almost everyone, he had a close-knit group of friends which he seemed very close with.
His choice of friends was curious as well, the most notable ones being the Sheriff’s son and the Argent girl. How a werewolf had managed to befriend a hunters’ daughter, he truly had no idea. But no matter, if he wanted to pressure Scott into following his werewolf instincts and persuade him into biting someone, both Stiles Stilinski and Allison Argent were out of the question. He didn’t want to enrage either the police or the werewolf hunters as he preferred to act more discreetly, for now at least.
He pondered the options that he had left, and finally decided to capture Scott’s other friends. Forcing the young Alpha to choose his victim was going to be delightful, he just knew this, and he licked his lips in anticipation. He couldn’t wait to break the young werewolf by using his own kind-hearted nature against him.
***
After classes Scott waited for Isaac so that they could go back home together, but the boy wasn’t showing up. He frowned worriedly and tried to call him, but only managed to reach the voicemail box. That was when he saw the twins coming his way with a confident swagger and he felt dread pooling in his stomach.
"Deucalion has taken your friends. If you want to see them ever again, you'll come with us," Aiden said with a satisfied smirk, which Scott dearly wanted to wipe from his face with a punch, but he controlled himself. Then, he realized that Aiden used the word “friends”, as in plural, and he wondered who else beside Isaac had been kidnapped.
"You helped him capture teenage kids who even aren't supernatural? That's a new low, even for your pack," he said with scorn, disappointed with them both.
"They're safe and unharmed," Ethan assured him. "Deucalion doesn't care for them, he has taken them just to ensure your… cooperation."
"Lead the way, then. Let's see what the Demon Wolf's newest plot is then," Scott said, shrugging, though inside he was furious.
He was prepared for Deucalion to target Peter or Derek, as both were bonded with him. What he didn't consider was for Deucalion to actually involve humans, and teenagers at that. He should've known better. He had made a mistake of making assumptions based on his foreknowledge, but he won't do so again. Things have changed now, and he had to adapt to the new circumstances or people would get hurt.
They walked in tense silence, Scott's mind was focused on planning his moves, his senses sharpening like knives. His cold determination must have been obvious to the twins, as Ethan asked curiously: "Why aren't you afraid? Everyone fears Deucalion."
At first Scott wanted to snap at him that he had faced worse than megalomaniac werewolves with a tragic past, but he refrained from saying that. The less they knew about him, the better.
"I'll do everything that I can to save my friends. I have no room for fear until they're safe," he answered finally.
"Your loyalty to those weak humans is totally misplaced," Aiden sneered. "Once you join us, you'll see what it means to be a part of the werewolf pack."
Scott almost stumbled. Did they think that he was alone, that he had no pack? Didn't they know about Derek and Peter? That wasn't so far fetched, though. To the outsiders the mere idea of born werewolves from an old supernatural family joining a young, inexperienced Alpha was laughable, and it probably didn’t even cross Deucalion's mind. Which would also mean that Deaton had actually kept his mouth shut and didn’t say anything to his sister about Scott's ties with the Hales.
"Being a part of the pack… it sounds good," he said quietly, honestly.
The twins grinned triumphantly at each other, thinking they have already won. He didn't bother correcting them.
***
They took him to the First National Bank and Scott almost snorted. It seemed that some things remain unchanged, after all. When they entered the main hall, he saw Isaac, Jackson and Lydia gagged and bound to the chairs while Kali and Ennis hovered nearby, watching them. Deucalion was also already present and seeing Scott entering the hall with the twins, he smiled with satisfaction.
"Scott McCall, a pleasure to meet you at last," he greeted. "Thank you for your kind invitation, that was an unexpected boon, I must admit."
"I'd say that the pleasure is mine, but that would be a lie since you’re currently holding my friends captive," Scott answered evenly, walking up to him.
The sight of Deucalion, alive, breathing, and just as manipulating bastard as he had been when they had first met… It was a painful, bittersweet experience, but he shoved the feeling aside, as it would only make things worse if they were forced to fight each other, after all.
This was not the Deucalion that had died holding his hand and looking at him with faith and trust. This was an enemy.
"They're not captives, they're here as a lesson for you. You see, when I heard that there's a young Alpha out there, I instantly knew that I had to offer you my guidance in how to be a proper werewolf," Deucalion said magnanimously, "and a huge part of that is giving someone a bite. Tell me, Scott, you haven't bitten anyone, yet, have you?"
"No, I haven't," in this life, at least , he didn't add.
"Splendid!" Deucalion looked delighted at the news. "Today you'll have the chance to do that. I'll make a deal with you: bite one of your friends, and I'll let the rest go, safe and unharmed by myself or my pack."
Hearing that, Jackson and Lydia started to struggle in their bounds, their protests muffled by the gags, while Isaac only looked at Scott with tears in his eyes. Scott swallowed with difficulty, seeing them so defenseless and vulnerable made him want to rip something or someone into tiny pieces. But he couldn't indulge himself so, not yet at least. For now, he needed to act with caution.
"Will you swear it?" he asked Deucalion. "With witnesses?"
That made the man instantly suspicious. "And what witnesses do you have in mind?"
"You call your emissary and I'll call mine," Scott suggested. "Frankly speaking, I don't trust you, so I want to have some assurance that you’ll keep your word."
Deucalion's gaze turned contemplative. "You put a surprising amount of trust in emissaries. Very well, I'm in a generous mood today. Go ahead and call yours as I call Marin."
Deucalion walked away to make a call and Scott took out his phone and called Deaton.
"Hi Scott, I didn't expect-"
"I need you to act as my emissary," Scott interrupted him. "I'm meeting with Deucalion right now and I need you to witness our vow."
"So, this is the time for me to finally decide if I want to be your pack’s emissary or not, isn't it?" Deaton asked with a sigh.
"It is," Scott confirmed. "Can I count on you?"
There was a long moment of silence and then-
"You can. Where are you?"
"Abandoned branch of the First National Bank," Scott said and added: "Thank you, boss. I appreciate it."
He disconnected with a sigh of relief.
"You call your emissary your boss?" asked Kali with a snort.
"He pays my wage, so yeah," answered Scott with a shrug.
"Marin is on her way as well," Deucalion confirmed as he joined them again. "You're a curious young man, and not someone I would have expected. You're taking this surprisingly well."
"Believe it or not, but ever since I became a werewolf I wanted to have a large pack," Scott confessed. "Still, I hate the fact that you're forcing my hand in this, so I want your promise that once I bite someone, you or your pack won't harm any of my friends."
"Your non-werewolf friends," Deucalion corrected. "The one that becomes a werewolf… Well, let's just say that I have plans for your future Beta, so choose carefully."
Scott turned towards his friends once again and looked each of them in the eye for a moment. Jackson was terrified, Isaac only looked sad, and Lydia… she started to look incensed, and he smiled a little.
"I'll bite Lydia," he said.
"Why, because she's the weakest?" asked Ennis with a sneer.
"Actually the opposite, because she's strong and I'm quite confident that she'll survive this," he said honestly.
"You're speaking the truth," murmured Deucalion with a curious tilt to his head.
"I'm not the lying sort," he admitted. "Even my invitation to you was honest, I truly wanted to meet you."
"Why the past tense, though?" asked Deucalion with a faux hurt, clutching at his chest theatrically. "We seem to be getting along quite well, after all."
"I don't react well to blackmail or coercion," Scott snapped.
"Oh, but that’s for your own good, you'll see," Deucalion said to him patronizingly, and Scott didn't bother replying to that.
Soon enough, Deaton and his sister joined them, looking apprehensive at seeing the bound teenagers.
“Alan, so good to meet you again,” Deucalion greeted the druid with a cold smile. “I’m not sure if I ever had the chance to thank you for taking care of my wounded eyes… no matter how useless that help had turned out to be in the end.”
“Some wounds are even beyond my ability to heal, I’m afraid,” Deaton answered mildly, though he kept shooting worried glances at Scott. “Now, I presume that we’re here to witness an oath, is that correct?”
"It is. Emissaries, would you be willing to witness a vow between myself and Deucalion?" asked Scott formally.
"I am," Deaton confirmed, and Marin echoed him.
Scott turned to Deucalion. "If I bite Lydia Martin, do you swear on your behalf and that of your whole pack that from that moment onward, you won't imprison, kill or harm any of my non-werewolf friends?"
Deucalion thought for a moment about the wording, looking for the loopholes. "I swear but only under the condition that it is a true werewolf bite, using your fangs and breaking both skin and muscles all the way to the bone," he clarified. "And if she dies because of the bite, you will choose and bite another."
"I agree to your terms. Do you agree to mine?" said Scott calmly.
"I do," Deucalion said with a satisfacted smile.
"Then under the power of the Nemeton we are bound to our word," said Scott, kneeling and touching the floor, sensing the telluric currents flowing underneath. He expanded his claws and punctured his hand, letting a couple of blood drops to fall on the floor, and the whole building shook with tremors similar to that of a small earthquake.
"What the hell-" Ennis cursed.
"What did you do, boy?" Deucalion demanded, uncertain of what was happening.
"You and Scott just entered into a binding oath in a place of power, witnessed by the druids and sealed by the blood offering," Deaton said, impressed. "Well played, Scott, well played."
Deucalion growled and transformed into the Demon Wolf, his monstrous form shaking from rage. "No matter, I'll get what I want either way. Uphold your end of the bargain and bite the girl, now!" he ordered Scott.
The young Alpha stood up and said: "I fully intend to," as he transformed into his werewolf form as well.
He walked up to Lydia who was gazing at him with trepidation, her eyes widening as she took in his animalistic look.
"My bite won't kill you, Lydia, but it will change you," he said to her sadly. "I'm sorry that I'm doing this by force, but I don't have any choice now."
He stood behind her, teared apart the fabric of her blouse and he bit her shoulder, hard. She screamed, the sound of it muffled by the gag, her body shaking from fear, shock and pain.
The deed finally done, he stood up, wiping the blood off his face with his sleeve. The bitter taste it left in his mouth seemed eerily similar to regret, but by now he was very much used to having regrets in his life.
He turned to Deucalion and demanded: "Now, release them."
"First we shall wait and see if she dies or turns into a werewolf," Deucalion countered.
"Neither. Lydia is immune to a werewolf bite as she's already another type of a supernatural creature, and you swore not to imprison, kill or harm any of my non-werewolf friends. So you see, all three of them are out of your reach now," Scott said calmly.
"That's bullshit," Kali growled and reached out with her clawed hand to grab Lydia, when the ground underneath her shook with violent tremors, and roots suddenly sprouted from the cracks in the floor, twirling around her legs, trapping her in place.
"The Nemeton knows the truth," said Scott calmly.
"Fine, fine, I'm not attacking her," Kali said, raising her hands in surrender, and after a moment the roots shrank back.
"You tricked me," Deucalion hissed angrily. "You knew that the bite won't take!"
"You imprisoned my friends and had the audacity to act all benevolent about it," Scott retorted. "But I'm certain that you intended to either force me to kill Lydia once she became my Beta, or force her to kill me and absorb my Alpha power. Tell me, am I close to the mark, Deucalion?"
The Demon Wolf laughed mockingly. "You think that you're so smart, then? Well, you forgot to include your own safety in that little vow of yours!"
"I assure you, that was fully intentional, since I challenge you to a duel," Scott said brazenly.
"I don't need to duel you, boy, you're alone and I have my whole pack with me," Deucalion sneered.
"Are you afraid to face me on your own, then? Do you always hide behind your packmates' backs? That's pathetic," goaded Scott. "I wonder, are they proud of having a coward for a leader?"
"I don't need anyone's help to kill a little whelp such as you," Deucalion said, grabbing Scott’s hoodie and almost hissing the words to his face.
"Prove it, then," Scott challenged, looking him straight in the eye.
"Scott, are you sure that this is a good idea?" Deaton asked worriedly, hovering uncertainly behind them, but both of them ignored him, locked in a staring contest.
As if making a decision, Deucalion lunged at Scott, who dodged the strike and fast as lightning hit him across the chest, drawing blood with his claws.
"Maybe you were impressive once, but now you’re too slow to keep up with me," Scott taunted.
Deucalion howled with rage and attacked him furiously, but Scott was too fast for him, as again and again the teen slipped from his grasp. Finally, incensed by the futility of his attacks, Deucalion managed to push the younger Alpha against the wall and plunged his claws deep into his eyes, blinding him. Scott cried out loudly, the pain of his damaged eyes eerily familiar.
"Not so cocky now, are you?" Deucalion breathed into his ear.
Scott shoved him away. "It's going to take more than this to break me."
In a fracture of a second, he allowed all of his remaining senses to come alive. Once, he had mastered the art of fighting without his eyesight, and he could do so again. As his mind was taken back to that awful year of fighting with Monroe and the Anuk Ite, he felt all of his pain and rage filling him once again. His blood sang with thirst for violence, he longed to spill some blood, to be the predator rather than the prey.
He was like a loaded gun, and his target was right in front of him...
"Fire," he whispered to himself, attacking Deucalion with everything that he had.
***
Deucalion couldn’t believe it. He had blinded the teen, thinking it would win him the fight, but if anything, it seemed to infuriate the young Alpha even more, rather than break him as he had intended. It seemed as if earlier Scott had only been playing with him, and now…
Now he stopped playing.
Scott attacked him furiously with a speed that was truly inhuman, grabbed his right arm in a vice-like grip, then snapped the bone like it was a twig. Deucalion howled and flung his other arm at the teen, but the young Alpha dodged the strike, then kicked him in the knee, crushing the kneecap and causing Deucalion to fall onto the floor in a heap.
Deucalion moaned loudly, clutching at his leg with his left hand. God, it hurt so much. He didn't remember when was the last time he had felt such pain, was it when Gerard blinded him?
Thankful for the fact that he could still see in his werewolf form at least, he looked at his attacker with apprehension, awaiting another strike. However, the young Alpha turned away from him without a word, walking as surely as if he hadn’t been blinded mere minutes before. It was impossible, he remembered how hard it had been for him when he had lost his eyesight, each step shaky and ununcertain. So how on earth could the McCall boy act so self-confident when blinded?
***
Scott walked up to the imprisoned teens and when he sensed the Alpha Pack approaching him, he growled almost inhumanly: "If anyone attacks me now, I swear I will maim you all so much that you'll never be able to heal from that."
He must have been convincing, as he heard them scattering away, going to Deucalion instead.
"Scott, what can I do to help?" Deaton asked him worriedly.
"Isaac, I need Isaac," he whispered, focusing on transforming back to his human form. "Release him, please."
He heard the sound of a knife cutting through the rope, then the gag hitting the floor with a soft thud, and finally Isaac was beside him, holding him tightly and crying uncontrollably.
"Scott, your eyes…" Isaac sniffled miserably.
"You just saw me at my worst, how can you stand to look at me still, much less touch me?" Scott despaired.
In response, Isaac held him even tighter and murmured into his ear: "I love you, and I always will, you stupid, brainless fool.”
Relief flooding him, Scott asked in a small voice: "I know that we’re not together anymore, but… would you kiss me, please? I need it, now."
In response, Isaac cradled his face gently in his hands and soon he felt those familiar, soft lips touching his in a soft caress. He sighed contentedly and kissed him back, glad that he still had his love, that Isaac didn't hate him, that he still cared for him enough to kiss him, even though Scott must look like a mess now with his whole face covered in blood.
As the kiss deepened, he felt the intense warmth focusing in his eye sockets and soon enough, his eyesight returned. He broke the kiss just to take a step back and look at Isaac's lovely face.
"Thank you," he said softly, love and happiness filling him to the brim.
"Your eyes, how did you do that?" Isaac asked with awe.
"You did that. I wouldn't have healed on my own, I needed a kiss from someone who truly loved me," Scott explained. "Now come on, let's release the others." He looked towards the other teens, where Deaton already was cutting through the ropes holding them.
Lydia removed the gag from her mouth with a shaking hand and looked at Scott with a mixture of fear and anger.
"What. was. that?!" she asked in a hoarse voice, her face wet from the tears but her lips already pressing into a thin line, showing that she was furious.
Scott gulped loudly. "I'm really sorry, Lydia. I needed a way to trick Deucalion into making an oath, and since I knew that you won't ever change into a werewolf, you were the most obvious choice."
"Since when werewolves are even real?" she demanded, standing up shakily.
"Let's get the hell out of here first and leave explanations for later," suggested Jackson boldly, though his face was ashen and his body shook violently.
In that moment Peter and Derek burst through the door and Scott rolled his eyes at their dramatic entrance.
"Scott, are you alright? We felt an intense pain from you and we followed our bond," Peter asked, while Derek hugged Scott to his chest.
"I'm alright now, though it's been a close call," the teen admitted sheepishly. "I want to speak with the Alpha Pack before we leave, and since you're already here you might as well come with me to have my back. Just, let me do the talking, alright?"
Derek shrugged. “You’re the leader,” he said simply, and Peter nodded with agreement.
***
"Duke, are you alright?" Kali asked stupidly, and Deucalion wanted to snap at her that no, he wasn't alright, obviously.
"Boys, help me stand up," he said instead, and Ethan supported him from behind, while Aiden took his unharmed arm and hauled him to his feet. When Deucalion unthinkingly put some of his weight on his injured leg, it flared up with agony and if it wasn't for Ethan supporting his weight, he would have fallen again. Finally, they settled into a relatively comfortable position, Aiden having Deucalion’s left arm curled around his shoulders, while Ethan supported Deucalion’s right side.
"Why aren't you healing?" Kali pressed.
"I don't know yet," he finally snapped at her. "Now, be silent and let me focus on what they're saying."
He listened to Scott's conversation with the other teen and he heard how a "true love's kiss" had healed his eyes. He snorted with disdain, he didn't believe in love, much less in its healing ability. More likely, it was Scott's status as the True Alpha that allowed him to heal quicker, even from the wounds caused by another Alpha. Which made him wonder, why wasn't he healing at all?
Shortly after, the door burst open and two werewolves ran in Scott's direction, greeting him with familiarity, one of them even hugging him tightly.
"Wait, are they-" Kali started to say.
"Peter and Derek Hale, I recognize them too," Ennis confirmed her suspicions.
"Marin, why didn't you tell me that Scott was affiliated with the Hale pack?" asked Deucalion angrily.
"I didn't know that," she admitted, surprised herself, which made him wonder why he even kept her around.
After a moment, Scott walked up to them, flanked by the two werewolves, his emissary trailing behind them.
"Let me be clear about this, Deucalion, my non-werewolf friends are now off-limits to you and your pack," the young Alpha stated matter-of-factly. "As for my pack, I consider both Peter and Derek Hale as mine. If you or one of your sycophants even look wrongly in their direction, we'll crush you, and I mean it. It's a shame since I wanted our packs to be allied, but if you respond only to violence, then violence you'll get."
"I knew them since they were young, sickly pups, I ain't afraid of them," Ennis sneered. "I remember you, Derek, sniffling like a baby when I bit that girl of yours. It’s a pity that your romance didn't quite work out."
Derek curled his hands into fists but Scott looked at him once and he didn't say a word.
"Ennis, stop it," Deucalion warned him, because he felt the cold fury building in Scott, and he had already learned to be wary of that.
But Ennis ignored him and continued: "What's wrong, Derek, does the truth hurt? I'm amazed that you can still stand to be near your uncle, since it was him who orchestrated the whole thing after all. I would rip him apart for that if I were you, but I guess you're too soft to get your revenge."
"That's enough," Scott said quietly, stepping closer to the giant werewolf. "Are you so proud of biting an innocent, teenage girl and causing her death in the process?"
"Oh, she was tasty," Ennis leered obscenely. "I would gladly bite her again if I could, and I wouldn't care a whit if she lived or died."
"You're not worthy of being an Alpha, then," said Scott and he made a strange motion with his hand above Ennis' chest, causing the giant werewolf to fall to his knees.
Both emissaries gasped, seeing a globe of red light twirling in Scott's hand, and Deucalion wondered what it was, though a terrifying suspicion began to grow in his mind.
"Peter, would you like to be an Alpha again?" the teen asked.
"Only if I’ll still remain yours," Peter said with devotion.
"You'll always be mine," Scott assured him as he pushed the red globe into the man’s chest.
Peter shuddered and roared, more like a lion than a wolf, and his eyes glowed with a pure red light.
Kali knelt beside her lover and asked quietly: "What did he do to you?"
"Go on, Ennis, show them your eyes," Scott ordered with the Alpha Voice.
The giant werewolf looked up at him with hatred burning in his now cold blue eyes.
Deucalion shuddered. It wasn't possible. The Alpha powers, they couldn’t be transferred like that. If Scott had the power to take away the Alpha spark with such an ease, then he could have done the same with him, and that was truly a terrifying thought.
"I wonder, Deucalion, does it mean that he's no longer a part of your pack if he's not an Alpha anymore? Oh no, how long will it take him to try to kill you to claim your Alpha status?" Scott asked with a mock worry.
"You're vile," Deucalion said with a shudder.
"It's your pack’s methods that are vile, I am only opening your eyes to that. Call it… a lesson, if you will. If I have lost my power, my pack would care for me still, and I would care for them if they were the ones who lost theirs. Now we'll see if your pack is loyal to you, or if they will all turn against you now that you're defenseless."
Having said that, Scott turned around to leave, but Deucalion called after him, almost desperately: "How long will it take for my wounds to heal?"
The teen looked at him coldly as he said: "Long," then left with his pack and friends in tow.
Notes:
Yup, Scott got seriously mad at Deucalion for kidnapping his friends. He ain't playing anymore, folks, this is the True Alpha in action.
Also, the "Enemies to Lovers" tag is here for a reason. They are truly the enemies, still. That will change at some point, but for now Deucalion's going to reap what he sow.
Chapter Text
When Scott left Deucalion behind him, he felt almost physically ill. Breaking the man and leaving him wounded had never been his intention. And yet, when Deucalion had kidnapped his friends, coerced him into biting Lydia and then blinded him during their fight, he basically forced Scott's hand. The Alpha Pack needed to be shown that there was a predator greater and more powerful than them, or else they would never stop hunting Scott and his loved ones. Deucalion had crossed the line, and was punished for it, it was as simple as that. So why did Scott feel so awful, so guilty over it?
Still, looking at his shaken friends eased his conscience a bit. This was all Deucalion's doing and Scott would never regret protecting them with all that he had, as their safety was a priority. If being a monster was a way to keep them safe, then he would gladly become one, and spill an ocean of blood if it was the only way to protect them.
With an effort he pushed all the unnecessary thoughts away from himself. He was a leader, he had responsibilities to see to, and allowing himself to break apart was the last on his list of things to do.
"Thank you for coming today, boss," he thanked Deaton honestly. "I wouldn't have managed to bind Deucalion with a vow if it wasn't for your presence."
"Since I agreed to be your emissary, please call me Alan, or Deaton, if you must," the man offered with a smile, then sobered. "Scott, what you did today, it was incredible, and that oath is the least of your achievements. I have so many questions for you… But I guess they can wait until you have taken care of your friends. Call me once you're free to talk, please."
"I will. Thank you, Alan, I really appreciate your help," he thanked him once again, and the man nodded and went to his car.
Next, Scott turned to his teenage friends. "Lydia, how do you feel? Do you wish to go home and rest, or do you want to go to my place to talk?" he asked,
"Talk first, definitely. You're not getting off the hook that easily," Lydia said, ready to drill him right here and there if he allowed it, though she still had that haunted look about her which concerned him.
Scott nodded and said: "Alright, talk it is then. Jackson, what about you?"
The teen tried to look strong and unruffled, but he was deathly pale and he was trembling still, which worried Scott.
"What we did the other day- could you- would you mind-" Jackson stuttered a bit, and Scott embraced him at once, holding him tightly.
"I'm sorry that you were targeted because of me," he said quietly. "I promise that I will explain everything, but if you'd rather go home, no one will think any less of you."
"No, it's fine. I can do this," Jackson said, determined.
Scott patted his shoulders one last time and stepped back.
"Since when are you so touchy-feely with each other?" asked Lydia with a suspicious frown.
Scott couldn't help it, he snorted loudly. "You were kidnapped by a bunch of bloodthirsty werewolves and you witnessed a lot of supernatural stuff, and my hug with Jackson is the thing that bothers you the most?"
"Well, he never hugged me like that, not even when we were together," she said defensively. "It's not his normal behaviour, is all I'm saying."
"Maybe I finally stopped giving a damn how I should act to meet the social standards that you're so attached to, haven't you thought of that?" Jackson retorted angrily.
"Kids, maybe leave the arguing for later when we're not in the open," Peter suggested. "Let's get to the cars before someone sees us and wonders why the lot of you look like you were through hell and back."
After some arguing about who was riding with whom, they finally complied.
When Peter opened the car doors for Lydia, he took a closer look at her bloodied shoulder and blanched.
"Scott, is this a bite wound?" he asked.
Scott sighed. There's going to be a lot of explaining everything to everyone, it seemed.
***
When Melissa saw the state they were in, she almost had a heart attack, but managed to control herself.
"Does anyone need medical attention?" she asked immediately, her nurse instincts kicking in.
"Only Lydia," said Scott. "I'm already healed, mom, so please ignore the fact that I'm covered in blood."
She leveled an unimpressed look at him, which promised that they’ll be having a talk about this later.
"Is this… a bite wound?" she exclaimed incredulously as she cleaned Lydia's skin from dried up blood. Somehow, that made everyone snicker, easing the tension within their group. "What? That was a perfectly legitimate question, considering the shape of the wound," she asked, not understanding why they all suddenly varied between snorting, chuckling and laughing out loud.
"Peter said exactly the same thing, even with the same emphasis," Scott explained with a smile.
"Well, it only proves that great minds think alike," Melissa said, then looked at Peter sharply. "What I don't understand is how you allowed these kids to be wounded, as you and Derek look perfectly fine."
Peter gulped visibly and shrunk a bit, seeing her incensed face.
"We arrived too late, the deed was already done," Derek said quietly. "Scott, I'm so sorry that you had to face Deucalion alone," he added, looking regretful.
"Not your fault, you couldn't have known what was happening until it was already too late," Scott said and placed his hand on his packmate's arm, caressing it comfortingly.
As his mom was disinfecting and bandaging Lydia's shoulder, Scott went upstairs to clean himself a bit. Isaac trailed behind him, looking uncertain.
"What's wrong?" Scott asked, splashing his face with cold water, which immediately turned pink from the blood.
"You could've died today," Isaac said in a strangled tone. "Hell, you've been blinded. How can you act so… calm, and collected?"
"What other choice do I have?" he asked calmly. "Look, I'm not letting myself have a mental breakdown until everyone else is taken care of."
Isaac shook his head disbelievingly. "I just don't get how you're able to shove your emotions aside like that."
"It takes a lot of practice," Scott admitted once he dried his face with a towel. "There'll be a time for releasing them, but not yet."
"I wish I could help you somehow," said Isaac wistfully.
"You help me all the time by simply being there for me," Scott assured him. "And I got my eyesight back only thanks to you, never forget that."
Isaac blushed, pleased, then asked as they went downstairs: "So, Jackson's getting all the hugs now?"
"You can get your share of them anytime you want," Scott offered. "I have an unlimited supply of hugs, you know."
***
Once everyone was settled in the living room, Scott wondered how to begin.
"Okay, let's start from mentioning that some of the myths of the supernatural creatures are real, which you were able to see with your own eyes. Peter, Derek and I are werewolves, I became one when I was bitten, while Peter and Derek were born like that, as they come from an old werewolf family," he said finally. "Lydia, you have supernatural ancestors as well, but of a different kind. Your grandmother, Lorraine, was a supernatural creature called a Banshee, and through her blood you have similar abilities, though up until now they've been dormant."
The girl blinked, shocked. "My grandma was supernatural? But, she was insane and sent to the Eichen House!"
"She wasn't crazy, she just didn't know how to cope with her visions, the premonitions of things that were about to happen," Scott admitted, not going into details that by ‘things’ he actually meant ‘deaths’. There was no reason to frighten her at this stage. "I'm sorry, Lydia, this must be hard for you, but your grandmother never needed therapy, she needed to be taught how to master her abilities. And now, since my bite has awoken your Banshee side, so will you."
"Wait, why did you bite Lydia at all? What happened today?" his mom asked.
Scott sighed heavily and recounted all the events that had taken place since he was approached by the twins. He told her about finding his friends bound and gagged, and how Deucalion tried to manipulate him into creating another werewolf via the bite. He admitted that he wanted to outsmart the man and beat him at his own game, and that he tricked him into making a binding vow. Finally, he told her about how angry Deucalion got once he realized that Lydia won't be turning into a werewolf, and how they fought. When he got to the part when he lost his eyesight, his mother gasped loudly.
"That werewolf… blinded you?" she asked dangerously. "I'm going to kill that bastard with my own bare hands."
In that moment she truly looked furious enough to commit a murder without blinking an eye, and he shuddered seeing the dangerous, unforgiving look on her face.
"No need, I taught him a lesson already when I broke his arm and leg in retaliation," Scott said, trying to calm her down.
"Wait, you have beaten Deucalion after you've been blinded?" asked Derek, astonished.
"Yup, that's what he did. It was incredible, I've never seen anything like this," Isaac confirmed.
"What can I say, I'm a man of many talents," said Scott lightly.
"And you mentioned that he won't be healing as fast as werewolves normally do?" Peter asked as he remembered the teen's earlier words.
"I'm a True Alpha, and a powerful one at that, so when I wound my enemies, the accelerated healing won't work for them. It's a high time that Deucalion met his equal and realized that if he goes against me, there will be consequences," Scott said darkly, his anger at the Alpha Pack's actions still simmering deep inside of him.
Sensing his fury, Peter made a quiet, apologetic noise and ducked his head submissively, causing Scott to calm down instantly. "I'm sorry, Peter, you know that I'm not angry with you."
Peter nodded silently and his posture relaxed a bit.
"Wait, why are they listening to you as if you were their leader?" Jackson asked Scott, clearly confused by the dynamics between them.
"Because I am," he answered simply. "Before becoming Alpha werewolves, they were my Betas, which means that they followed my lead, and I guess that worked so well that the change of their status didn't affect us."
"I want to become a werewolf too," Jackson said unexpectedly.
"What? Jackson, you're not being serious!" Lydia exclaimed, shocked.
"You don't get to say what I can and can't do, anymore," he scoffed.
"That's enough," Scott said sternly. "Jackson, this is a discussion for another time, and one that you'll be having with me, no one else, is that understood?"
Jackson looked surprised at being talked to in such a manner, as if he was no longer speaking with his school mate, but someone older who had an authority over him. Judging by his discomfited look, it wasn't an experience that was familiar to him, nor one that he was comfortable with. "Alright, alright," he muttered under his breath.
"This is serious, Jackson. Being a werewolf, it's not as easy as you may think. And there are some who don't have any qualms about killing us, they're werewolf hunters, and believe me that a majority of newly turned werewolves don't stand a chance against them," Scott warned him.
The teen didn't say anything but started to look pensieve rather than rebellious, and that was enough for Scott for the time being.
“So, what happens now?” Lydia asked, looking unsure of herself, which was quite unlike her.
"We all need some time to rest and heal, so I think that's enough explanations for one day, there will be plenty of time to talk later," Scott decided. “Lydia, your abilities won’t wake up instantly, it’s a gradual process, so please try to get some sleep and not worry about it for now, alright?”
She nodded slowly, visibly trying to process everything that had happened and what she was told. Without any sudden moves, he sat down beside her and took her hand gently in his.
“You may not care for it, but since I was the one who bit you, I am responsible for you now,” he said to her. “I know that you’re strong, and independent, but for werewolves being a part of the pack is an asset. We are stronger because of our pack bonds, and we have each other’s backs so that no one faces their problems alone. You may hate me for what I did, but if you ever need help, with anything, you just need to ask.”
She looked at their joined hands and her face lost that haunted look that she’d had ever since she was bitten.
“You told me once that I was special. Was this what you had in mind, then, me being a Banshee?” she asked quietly.
He shook his head. “No, I meant that you’re fierce, intelligent, and brave. Your supernatural skills have nothing to do with it.”
Hearing that she straightened her shoulders, gaining some of her confidence back.
Chapter 59
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Scott was pleasantly surprised when Derek offered to give a lift to Lydia and Jackson. He was happy that his former Beta finally started to open up to people and stopped avoiding them at all costs.
"You should spend some time with Peter," Derek suggested when Scott walked him to the door. "I know how hard the change from Beta to Alpha can be, especially when the wolf inside still wants to follow you. The conflicting instincts might be confusing at first."
Scott looked at Derek closely. He was glad to see that during the last few weeks the other werewolf had matured considerably, and started to gain the kind of a calm self-confidence that only came from knowing oneself.
"That's kind and thoughtful of you," Scott commented, causing Derek to duck his head in slight embarrassment at the compliment.
Instead of saying anything else, Scott hugged him tightly, closing his eyes with pleasure as Derek's strong arms embraced him in return. He was so happy and grateful for being given another chance to form his pack and be close to his packmates once again that he couldn't properly express it with words. Instead, he focused on sending all his feelings through their link.
Love you. Trust you. Wish you didn't have to leave.
Miss you already.
He felt a slight tremor going through Derek's body as the man received the wave of emotions through their bond. In response, he felt a shy tendril of gratefulness and care being sent from Derek in his direction, and it was hard not to smother the man with love right here and there.
Mustering all his will power, Scott took a step back and said huskily: "Better leave now, or I won't be able to let you go."
Derek nodded and left without a word, joining Lydia and Jackson who were already waiting for him outside.
Slightly misty-eyed, Scott went back to the living room where Peter was still conversing quietly with Melissa, and pointed his finger at the older werewolf.
"You're staying for the night. I'm not letting you out of my sight until morning at the very least," he announced.
Peter looked at him shrewdly and sensing that Scott wasn't joking, he said simply: "Sleepover it is, then."
When Melissa realized that Scott meant for Peter to sleep in his room, with him, all hell broke loose.
"That's out of question! I'm not letting a man twice your age sleep with you in one bed," she protested, shocked and dismayed at the idea.
"I don't care if Peter's thirty, fifty or hundred years old, I need my packmate and he needs me. We're not human, we're werewolves, that's all there is to it," Scott said, feeling as if his nerves were stretched to the point of breaking.
"You're still my son and living under my roof, so you're going to follow my rules," Melissa said stubbornly, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Don't do this, mom," Scott said quietly.
"Do what? Act as a parent should?" she asked snappily.
"Don't put propriety above my well-being," answered Scott, his voice shaking slightly. "So tell me, which one is more important to you?"
She gaped at him, shocked.
Sensing that this argument had already gone too far, Peter said evenly: "Melissa, please believe me that doing anything inappropriate to your son is the last thing on my mind. I'm a ladies' man through and through, and it's you that I want to go on a date with, not him."
Melissa blinked, astonished, and blushed hotly. "Peter…" she said, clearly not knowing how to react.
"You might decline, of course. But it won't change the fact that Scott's right, our pack’s dynamics were and always will be very physical, but there's no sexual component to them. You have my word that his virtue is completely safe with me," Peter said with a wry smile.
"Fine, I give up, have it your way," she relented reluctantly.
"Thanks, mom," Scott beamed at her and gave her a hug and a big kiss on the cheek, causing her to laugh.
"Does it mean that you agree to have a date with me, then?" Peter asked Melissa, his eyes twinkling. "I know a splendid restaurant downtown, they serve delicious oysters and their chocolate cake is worth a sin, if I may say so."
"Don't advertise it so much, or my expectations will be high indeed," she answered with a flirtatious smile.
"Oh, I assure you that I intend to meet and even surpass all of your expectations," Peter assured her seductively, and Scott decided to make a run for it.
"Peter, join me once you've finished wooing my mom, please," he called over his shoulders and promptly fled to his room, ignoring how they laughed at the speed with which he retreated upstairs.
Isaac peered from his room and asked: "They're flirting again?"
When Scott nodded, they shared a commiserating look before saying good night to each other.
***
Scott was already lying on his bed in his sleeping clothes when Peter entered his room.
"Your mom is an incredible woman," he said, taking off his shoes. "Would you mind if we ended up together? It's far too early to say if this will work out or not, but I thought I'll ask before anything serious happens between us."
"Why would I mind? You're both adults, you're free to date whoever you like, I certainly am not going to interfere," Scott said with a shrug.
Peter looked surprised as he asked: "Really? I thought that you would at least give me the usual 'hurt her and I'll make you regret it' speech."
Scott snorted. "Hardly. Even people in love hurt each other sometimes, so that speech is rather unrealistic. As long as you're honest with your intentions, I'm good. Now, stop talking about my mother and come here."
Peter chuckled, took off his jeans and lay down beside Scott, sighing contentedly as the teen immediately pulled him closer. They shifted a bit until they found a comfortable position, with Peter spooning Scott from behind, his arm curled loosely around the younger werewolf's waist.
"Thank you for making me an Alpha again," Peter said quietly after a moment of comfortable silence. "With everything that happened it didn't quite sink in yet, but I'm grateful nonetheless."
"You deserve it much more than Ennis," said Scott, caressing Peter's forearm with his fingertips absentmindedly. "Also, you showed me what kind of person you are when you're surrounded by people who love you, and I like seeing that side of you. You seem… happier, somehow."
"I am," murmured Peter. "I don't remember ever being this happy as I am now. The power struggles, my own sick ambitions… I'm glad that I'm free of it all, at last."
And it was the truth, Scott realized. Recently Peter had started to smile more often and seemed more comfortable in his own skin. It was as if whatever fight he had fought inside of himself was finally over.
Scott turned around so that he could face the man. He observed him carefully, the smallest of smiles tugging at the edges of Peter's mouth, his eyes glowing with joy, all of it made him look younger than Scott ever remembered him being.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Peter asked, raising his eyebrow. "Should I be scared?"
"Of me? Never," said Scott seriously.
Peter sobered as well and admitted quietly: "The wolf inside me has learned its lesson and is wary of angering you again, its own Alpha status notwithstanding. Although it trusts you, it still feels… intimidated in your presence, submissive even. Is this alright? I know that you don't like it when I bare my throat to you."
"Oh, Peter," Scott breathed, humbled by the man's honest confession. "I only hate it when it's an act, if you put on a show. If it's genuine, if it comes from within you, I'll accept and treasure any submissive gesture from you."
"I would even allow you to look into my mind, if you wished to," Peter offered in a strangled voice, but Scott shook his head wordlessly.
Instead, he closed his eyes and gently tugged at their bond, which after Peter had become an Alpha again felt raw and jagged at the edges. He smoothed it, caressed it gently, coaxing it into opening wider.
Let me in, he pleaded with it, and I'll never lead you astray.
Ever so slowly, the bond between them awakened once more, strengthened and reaffirmed. He allowed his feelings to flow freely through it, projecting his love and pride at seeing Peter evolving into the man that he was today.
When he opened his eyes, his cheeks were wet and he saw that Peter was crying silently too, a couple of tears flowing down his cheeks. He didn't say anything, just wiped Peter's tears away with his thumbs, knowing how intense and overwhelming the pack bond could be when opened so widely. For the longest moment they just looked at each other, before Scott silenced their link gradually until it resembled a pleasant hum in the back of their minds.
“That was… incredible,” Peter breathed with wonder. “The intensity of feelings, I’ve never felt anything like it. But Scott… I was also able to sense your pain and guilt, but what happened with Deucalion is not your fault, you must know this. If you had let him win, the consequences would have been dire.”
At Peter’s words, he felt a calm acceptance settling inside him. Yes, he had hurt Deucalion. No, he hadn't taken any pleasure in doing so. But it was necessary to protect those who were threatened by the man's machinations, and if he had to, he would do so again.
"I know that," he assured Peter. "I was forced to choose between a memory of the man whom I remember from my first life, and my current friends, alive and breathing and true. I chose reality over memories and while painful, it was the correct choice to make. I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me."
“You worry about us all the time. Please let someone take care of you, for once,” Peter said as he pulled him to his chest, one hand caressing Scott’s back comfortingly while the other gently stroked the teen’s hair.
Scott buried his face in the man’s neck and shuddered as he finally let himself fall apart, knowing that Peter will be there to catch him.
Notes:
And finally someone comforts Scott as he deserves...
I love you all, my dear readers and followers!
Chapter Text
Isaac woke up with a gasp, his breath uneven and body shivering slightly. He sat up and hugged his knees, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart. The dream… it was awful, he had dreamed that Scott was beaten and blinded again, and this time Isaac’s kiss wasn't enough to heal him. The sight of the young werewolf, bleeding and broken, was the last thing he saw before waking up.
He tried to calm down, but the cold dread that settled in his stomach just wouldn't go away, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself that it was just a dream. Maybe because it was so close to what had really happened that no amount of reasoning was able to calm him down.
His skin was cold and clammy, making him shiver even harder. Trying not to feel like a child, he got up and tiptoed to Scott's room, hesitating at the door. Should he knock, or maybe just enter? Would Scott mind if he woke him up? Would Peter? He hated to intrude on them so, but he really needed to reassure himself that Scott was truly alright and unharmed.
Trying not to feel too self-conscious, he opened the door as quietly as he could and took a step inside. Despite his best efforts it woke Peter up, who asked him in a sleepy voice if everything was alright.
"I'm sorry, I just… I couldn't sleep and I thought..." Isaac said, silently begging for the ground to swallow him up, it was so embarrassing. Maybe he should just get back to his room?...
"It's alright," Peter murmured, and shook Scott lightly. "Scott, budge over and make some space."
"Whoa?" Scott mumbled incoherently, before shaking himself and looking around. "Isaac, are you ok?"
"I had a bad dream and I... didn't want to sleep alone anymore," he admitted, glad that his blush wasn't visible in the dark.
"Come here, then," Scott said, shuffling closer to Peter.
Isaac tiptoed to the bed and lay down beside him, sighing with relief as Scott's warm body engulfed him whole.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Scott asked quietly.
"No, just… hold me, please?" Isaac said in a small voice.
"Of course," Scott murmured and kissed his brow.
"Good night, boys," Peter said after a moment, and a chorus of 'good nights' echoed him.
Isaac closed his eyes and finally felt himself relaxing to the sound of soft breaths and Scott's steady heartbeat.
***
Deucalion was lying on his bed and tried not to move a muscle as each, even the smallest movement sent a new wave of agonizing pain through his injured leg. The ache in his right arm had calmed down to a dull throbbing and it swelled a bit, but his knee… it was completely shattered, the splinters of the broken bone tearing at the flesh painfully.
He tried to muffle his moans, knowing that his pack would be able to hear them with their enhanced hearing, and he couldn't afford them knowing how useless, how defenseless he had become. He wouldn't put it past them to attempt to kill him when he was at his lowest, so he needed to put on a show that this was only a small, temporary impediment and that he would prove to be the apex of the Alpha predators again.
He didn't know what he would do if his injuries won't start healing soon. What if this wasn't only temporary? What if he would be in this pitiful state for days on end? He shuddered at the mere thought.
He almost cursed as he realized that he needed to go to the toilet soon. Thankfully, he had a room with an ensuite bathroom, so that was a small blessing at least. He sat up on the bed slowly, frowning in concentration. So far, so good. Maybe he would be able to manage it, after all?
When he carefully swung his legs to the floor he almost cried out and he bit his cheek not to make a sound. God, his leg hurt so much that it made him weak and shaking within seconds. Gritting his teeth, he started to hop awkwardly on his uninjured leg, resting for a minute after each hop as he gathered his resolve to keep moving. But it was either that, or soil his pants, and he would be damned if he added such an indignity to the long list of things that had gone wrong today.
When he was done and was back in his bed again, he was covered in sweat and had no strength left in him anymore. He lay down carefully, his body trembling violently from the pain and exhaustion. For a moment he longed for the relief that tears bring, but ever since Gerard had blinded him his tear ducts weren't functioning anymore, so he couldn't cry even if he wanted to.
Trying to take his mind away from the agony that his body was in, he focused on the low murmur of his packmates’ voices, glad that at least his hearing was working perfectly, even better than the other Alphas suspected.
"What will you do? You can't remain a Beta for long, Duke won't stand to have one in his pack," he heard Kali's quiet whisper.
"Well, Duke is in no state to do anything at the moment," Ennis sneered.
"Shhh, don't speak too loudly, he'll hear you," Kali warned his lover.
"I don't give a damn if he hears me or not. If he feels insulted, he should come here and punish me. But he can't do that now, can he?" Ennis said with relish, his delight at seeing his Alpha brought low quite obvious. "Don't worry, I only need to kill another Alpha to become one, and there's plenty of Alphas around to choose from."
Deucalion gritted his teeth hard. That treacherous bastard… Once he healed, he would prove to Ennis that no one insults him and lives to tell the tale.
Having heard enough, he focused on the twins' quiet whispers.
"Aiden, what will we do if Deucalion doesn't heal soon?" Ethan asked worriedly.
"I don't know," Aiden whispered back.
"What if the pack splits? We can't just live on our own, Alphas or not."
"Look, Ethan, worst case scenario we'll go to Scott, apologize and beg him to accept us into his pack. You saw how the Hales listen to him, he's an Alpha of Alphas like Deucalion. And he's strong enough to protect us," Aiden reasoned.
Deucalion swallowed hard. Ennis' uncaring attitude didn't surprise him a bit, but the twins… He thought that he had gained their loyalty by supporting them and teaching them how to be stronger, but it seemed that their loyalty only lasted as long as they felt safe, and it waived at the first sign of troubles.
The only consolation was that they didn't plan to kill him, at least, they only planned to abandon him, which was only slightly less jarring. But, wasn't it what he had drilled into them, that the only thing that truly mattered was power?
He recalled Scott's parting words: "If I have lost my power, my pack would care for me still, and I would care for them if they were the ones who lost theirs. Now we'll see if your pack is loyal to you, or if they will all turn against you now that you're defenseless."
It seemed that the lesson which the young Alpha was trying to teach him will turn out to be a bitter one.
He wondered for a moment what he could have done differently. Agreeing to that vow was ill-considered, he knew that now, but the humans truly didn't matter to him, he didn't care if they lived or died as long as they served their purpose in being a leverage in his quest to get Scott to bite someone and create his first Beta.
But the young Alpha had admitted that he liked the thought of creating his own pack, he just wanted to do it on his terms rather than being forced into it. And the teen hadn't seemed hostile, not at first. He'd seemed rather… saddened, disappointed even that Deucalion chose to coerce him into doing his bidding.
Should he have tried to talk with Scott, first? he wondered. The mere idea seemed preposterous, as ever since Deucalion had started his quest to create the perfect pack, the other werewolves treated him as an enemy and either feared him or avoided him, and if he was being honest with himself he couldn't really blame them.
But Scott was different. He had invited Deucalion to Beacon Hills, of all things, and he’d seemed rather open and reasonable at first. And he wasn't afraid of Deucalion, not even when he had transformed into the Demon Wolf form, which was incredible in itself.
Also, the teen was strong, so very strong... Even now Deucalion shuddered at the recollection how easy it had been for Scott to break his bones. It shouldn't be possible, there was no way that such a young werewolf could hold so much power in his thin, teenage body. And yet it was the truth, Deucalion's broken arm and shattered knee were proof enough of that.
Should he have tried to get Scott to join him willingly rather than by force? Probably. But those were futile thoughts, he realized. The cold, contemptuous look that the teen had given him as he told Deucalion that his body would take long to heal suggested that the time for peaceful negotiation was over.
In one wrong move, Deucalion managed to make an enemy out of the young Alpha, and he was slowly starting to realize that maybe he had bitten more than he could chew.
Chapter 61
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Melissa woke up early which wasn't a surprise by any means. She had always been an early riser, and being a nurse and working early shifts only reinforced that habit.
She went upstairs to prepare a laundry when she saw that the door to Scott's room was left slightly ajar. She bit her lips, indecisive. She wanted to take a peek inside, just to make sure that Peter had kept his word and they were decent, but on the other side she didn't want to intrude on their privacy either.
No, she needed to trust that they were true to their word and that whatever had happened at night wasn't anything that she would disapprove of. Decision made, she felt slightly better as she returned downstairs. She knew that she was overbearing sometimes, but who could blame her? She was a single mom so she needed to be twice as protective to make up for the father missing from Scott's life, after all. But she also knew that Scott was growing up, and was doing so astonishingly fast, so sooner or later she would need to accept it.
The problem was, she wasn't quite ready to do that just yet.
***
When Scott woke up to the sound of the alarm on his phone, he was sandwiched tightly between Peter and Isaac with almost no space between them, since his bed wasn't designed for three men. He yawned and moved slightly, trying to stretch his muscles a bit.
"Mornin'," murmured Peter, then yawned as well. "Slept well?"
"I would if you didn't wriggle so much," Scott complained, though his heart wasn't in it, he was much too happy to truly care about such a trifle. "Isaac's much calmer sleeper, I'll have you know."
"What can I say, I'm used to king size beds," Peter said unashamedly as he sat up, causing Isaac to snicker.
"Someone's awfully vain, methinks," the blond boy teased.
"There's nothing wrong with a bit of luxury," Peter defended himself. "I like living comfortably, so sue me." He projected such a convincing aura of offended innocence that the boys giggled uncontrollably, and he huffed. "I really need to start surrounding myself with people who would appreciate my finer sensibilities."
"I'm sure that my mom would be far more appreciative than uncouth teenagers such as us," Scott teased.
"Good point," Peter said as he got out of the bed. "But, bathroom first as I want to look at least somewhat presentable before I go see Melissa. Where can I find fresh towels?"
"The cupboard near the door, bottom drawer," Scott instructed.
"Got it," Peter actually started to hum some happy tune as he left the room.
Scott rolled to his side so that he was facing Isaac and asked him: "Are you feeling better?"
"Yeah," Isaac confirmed. "Sleeping together helped a lot. And I never thought I would ever say this, but Peter's a pretty decent guy. Awfully funny once you get to know him, as well."
"Yup, he is," Scott confirmed, beaming at the boy.
He was happy that Isaac had started to warm up to Peter, as he hated seeing people he loved at odds with each other. Isaac and Peter's relationship might've been off to a rocky start, but recently it had become more amicable, and he was very pleased to see that.
***
With all that had happened the day before, going to school and attending classes as usual was a weird experience. They were late for the first class due to Peter hogging the bathroom for too long, but Scott couldn't muster any anger at the man. While they had missed the first half of the lecture on Lord of the Flies, that was no big deal since he had already read the book during his first timeline, and he could always help Isaac with his assignment if the boy needed it.
Every now and then he caught Lydia's and Jackson's pensieve looks, and they seemed even more cut off and detached from reality than he was. He couldn't blame them, though. The knowledge that the supernatural world was very much real must be daunting to them.
Stiles also realized that something was off as he kept shooting them worried glances, so Scott wrote him a quick note: "Lydia and Jackson know about me being you-know-what. We'll talk after classes." He felt silly using coded language, but he couldn't use any supernatural references in case someone intercepted the note.
During recesses he kept looking around for the twins, but they didn't seem to be at school today. He wasn't much surprised about that, though, as their pack obviously needed to regroup.
When the last bell sounded, Stiles was already bubbling with excitement and impatience at the same time. Scott gestured to Lydia and Jackson, then mouthed "meet us outside", and he was glad that the teens nodded with acceptance.
When they walked out of the school, Scott was surprised to see Derek waiting there with the usual grumpy, uninviting frown on his face which was effectively scaring all the strangers off. But Scott wasn't a stranger, so he embraced Derek warmly before saying: "I didn't expect you to come, though I'm happy that you did. Is there any particular reason for your visit, though?"
"I wanted to see how all of you are coping," Derek explained, looking uncomfortable because of showing his care so openly.
"Coping with what?" Stiles asked with a huff as his patience apparently reached its limit.
"Kidnapping and being bitten by your wolfy friend, for example?" Lydia asked, inspecting her nails with a pretend interest.
Stiles' jaw dropped and he looked at Scott accusatoringly. "You’ve bitten Lydia?!"
Scott sighed and gave the girl a look, showing how unimpressed he was with her revealing the news without any background how it had come to this. "It's a bit more complicated than that," he commented. "We should probably find a place to sit and talk, and maybe grab some pizza while we're at it. Something tells me that it's going to be another lengthy conversation."
When he mentioned pizza, his friends perked up with interest. Scott only sighed. Honestly, teenagers…
***
"Why did no one kidnap me?" Stiles whined once Scott finished retelling yesterday's events.
"That would be an awful lot of trouble for little to no gain," Derek commented wryly. "If I planned on kidnapping anyone, you would be off my list as well."
Stiles looked offended while Jackson guffawed loudly. Scott tried to remain stoic, but even he couldn't contain a small smile at Derek's comment.
Apparently, Stiles didn't appreciate being made fun of, as he commented tartly: "So, Jackson's now a part of our little group of initiates, and Lydia will soon become a seer of sorts. Not to mention, there's a band of bloodthirsty werewolves who might be after Scott because of him damaging their precious leader. Have I listed everything of importance?" he asked rhetorically, then answered himself: "Right, Isaac's superpower lies in his kissing abilities. Way to go, dude."
Isaac just hid his face in his hands in embarrassment as the others chuckled. Only Scott didn't laugh as he circled Isaac's shoulders with his arm and said to his ear: "They may laugh all they want but it's you who helped me heal, and that's no small feat."
Hearing that, Isaac stopped hiding his face and straightened proudly at the reminder. "Yeah, my kiss healed Scott's wound caused by an Alpha werewolf. Have any of you achieved something bigger than that?" he asked the group with his eyebrow raised. "No? That's what I thought."
They went silent, remembering that even though they were safe and relaxed now, meeting the Alpha pack was no laughing matter.
"The twins weren't at school, were they?" asked Lydia worriedly.
"I haven't seen or sensed them," nodded Scott. "I'll call Chris later and tell him that he might consider allowing Allison to come back to school."
Lydia frowned. "Chris? You mean Allison's father? Wait, do they know about the supernatural?"
Scott snorted. "Know? Chris is a werewolf hunter and I wouldn't be surprised if Allison became a hunter-in-training soon, considering the fact that Beacon Hills seems to attract werewolves recently."
"What? She never told me!" exclaimed Lydia, angry and disappointed.
"Would you have believed her that werewolves exist if you didn't see one first?" asked Scott gently.
"Probably not," she admitted, calming down a little.
As it was getting late already, Scott asked: "So, can we wrap up for the day?"
"Actually, I wanted to borrow Stiles for a talk," Derek said, causing everyone - Stiles especially - to gap at him.
"Sure, just don't damage him, please," Scott said with a wink.
"Don't worry, he's going to be returned in a perfect condition," the werewolf assured with a smirk and patted Stiles on the shoulders roughly, causing the teen to stumble. Derek then circled him with his arm and dragged the spluttering teen to his car.
"Does anyone else need something?" asked Scott the remaining group.
"I wanted to talk with you," said Jackson, hiding his hands in his pockets and looking altogether uncomfortable. "But if you need to go home already, it can wait."
"I really should, mom's probably already waiting for me and Isaac," said Scott, but seeing Jackson's shoulders sagging in disappointment, he added: "Why don't you come with us? Would your parents mind if you slept at our place today?"
Jackson looked surprised at the offer and said: "No, they should be alright with it. That way I won't be getting in their way, at least," he commented offhandedly, but Scott heard the underlying hurt in his voice, and he felt a familiar surge of protectiveness engulfing him.
It was the same feeling that he had whenever he was reminded of Isaac's excuse of a father, and he didn't like the thought that Jackson's home life might be anything even remotely resembling Isaac's. He reined in his anger and asked instead: "Just let them know that you'll be coming with us, alright?"
Jackson nodded, looking pleasantly surprised at the turn of events.
Notes:
Next: Derek talks with Stiles + Scott talks with Jackson. So, be prepared for a lot of emotional stuff!
Chapter 62
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Stiles struggled weakly while he was being dragged to Derek's car.
"Hey, I'm not a bag of potatoes, so don't treat me like that," he protested but was completely ignored as Derek continued to drag him forcefully, his grip on Stiles' shoulders not weakening a bit.
When Stiles was pushed into a passenger seat, he took a look around and he whistled with appreciation, his earlier reluctance already forgotten.
"Hello, honey, you're a thing of beauty, aren't you?" he gushed, petting the dashboard with adoration.
Derek, who just sat on the driver seat and closed the door behind him, gave him a look. "What the hell are you doing?" he asked dangerously.
"I'm admiring this wonderful vehicle, isn't it obvious? This beauty deserves every bit of appreciation, and something tells me that she's not getting any from you," Stiles commented, because honestly, this baby deserved to be an object of worship at the very least.
"She?" Derek asked incredulously, before adding: "No matter, stop molesting my car or I'll bite your fingers off."
Stiles laughed before taking a look at the werewolf's incensed face and promptly backed away from the dashboard.
"Alright, alright, no need to get territorial, dude," he said, because honestly, this man was much too tense, about everything. "Why did you drag me to your car, though? I know that I'm attractive to guys, but we don't know each other all that well-"
"Stiles. Shut up," the werewolf growled.
Stiles made a zipped mouth gesture and looked at him expectantly.
"I wanted to tell you that I understand how you're feeling," Derek said finally.
Stiles snorted and said: "And how would you know that, mister 'do what I say or I'll rip your throat with my teeth', hm? Do you know how it is to be a simple, weak human with no special powers?"
"I know how it feels to be left on the sidelines," the man said. "I had a powerful mother, and a sister who was her heir and favourite in everything, so I was never really included in anything of importance. Because of that I have an inkling of how you might be feeling right now."
Stiles swallowed with difficulty and looked away. "I don't want to be the good ol' Stiles, some sort of a group mascot. But I don't know what else I'm good for beside being a stress reliever, and I hate the thought that that’s all I’m ever going to be," he admitted.
He knew that he had been irritable and snappish lately, but he didn't know how not to be. He and Scott were slowly drifting apart, the young werewolf being more and more involved with the pack matters and Stiles… was not.
"If you wish, I can give you the bite," Derek offered as if he was reading his thoughts, shocking Stiles into silence. "You don't need to decide right now, the offer doesn't have a time limit. I just thought that I would give you the option in case being a human ever stopped being enough for you."
Stiles looked at him, really looked at him, past the perpetual frown and unfriendly demeanor. There was a sincerity there, an honest wish to be helpful, and suddenly Stiles understood why Scott was so attached to this man.
"I'd need to think about this, because this is- well, huge," he said awkwardly. "But I really appreciate the offer. It proves that you're more than a grumpy sourwolf, after all."
Leaving Derek gaping at him in shocked outrage, he left the car, but not before caressing the beautiful Camaro one last time. He looked at her slim silhouette with longing and thought to himself that he might have found a new love object, after all.
***
After saying goodbye to Lydia, Scott and Isaac decided to ride with Jackson, so they left their bikes locked to the bike stand and went to his car.
"You're living with Scott, now? How did that happen?" Jackson asked Isaac during the ride.
"You know that my father wasn't the best parent on the planet, you taunted me about it often enough," Isaac said, folding his arms. "When Scott found out about it, he arranged it so that I was adopted by his mom."
"About that… I'm sorry for the way I treated you," Jackson said, looking uncomfortable.
Isaac only nodded and didn't say anything else, but he didn't seem angry at least, so Scott breathed with relief that they wouldn't argue about it.
When they arrived, Jackson was reluctant to enter the house.
"Are you sure that your mom won't mind that I'm going to stay for the night?" he asked.
Scott patted him on the arm. "I'm sure, she's used to me having sleepovers with my friends."
Melissa looked surprised at seeing Jackson with them, but she started to mother him quickly enough, and Jackson looked overwhelmed by the warm reception he was getting.
"Mom, stop smothering him with care, you'll scare the poor guy away," Scott told her, exasperated.
"I'm just happy that you're getting along with boys your age," she explained.
Scott just shook his head, he should've known that after him befriending Derek and Peter, his mother would be ecstatic to finally see him spending time with another teenager.
As it was getting late, they went upstairs and Scott gave Jackson a fresh towel and toothbrush and showed him where the bathroom was.
As he and Isaac were left alone for the moment, he looked at his former boyfriend carefully. "Do you mind that Jackson is spending time with us?" he asked him.
Isaac just shrugged. "Jackson's not my favourite person, true, but he's not been so bad recently. He can stay, if this is what you want. "
"I don't want you to be uncomfortable in your own home," Scott explained, making Isaac duck his head with a blush on his cheeks.
"Scott, it's my home because you and your mom made it so," the boy said honestly. "I'm not going to be an ungrateful ass and forbid you from befriending other guys just because I didn't like them at some point."
In response Scott hugged him gratefully and Isaac readily returned the gesture, then went to his room, but not before giving Scott a playful kiss on the cheek.
***
Once he and Jackson were both refreshed, they retired to Scott's room. Jackson took a chair while Scott sat on the bed, and they were silent for a moment.
"Earlier, you said that you wanted to talk with me," Scott started, seeing that the other boy was reluctant to speak. "Is this still the case?"
"Yeah, I wanted to ask you about being a werewolf. How does it work?" Jackson asked hesitantly.
"If you mean how to become one, an Alpha werewolf's bite has the power to turn a human into a werewolf. It’s not always successful, though. Sometimes, the body rejects the bite and the victim dies a painful death," seeing Jackson's horrified look, he added: "It's quite rare, but it does happen. Most cases, though, the bitten person heals quickly and gains werewolf traits, such as enhanced strength and heightened senses."
"It sounds… incredible," said Jackson, looking intrigued and fascinated.
"It is," admitted Scott. "Becoming a werewolf is one of the best things that ever happened to me. There are some downsides to that, though. During the full moons the newly created werewolves are often unable to control their transformation and become rabid. It's not unheard of to tie or chain the young werewolves so that they don't pose a danger to themselves and other people."
Jackson gulped, seeing the serious look on his face. "But, there's a way to control these… transformations, right?" he asked.
"It is a matter of both practice and a strength of will, but yes, it's possible to retain a complete control during the full moon," Scott explained. "Are you seriously thinking about becoming a werewolf?"
"Yeah. What would I have to do to get you to agree to bite me?" Jackson asked anxiously.
Scott wondered. The first time around when Jackson had been bitten, he had turned into a Kanima instead. Scott didn't believe that would happen again, though. Jackson was already acting differently than the last time, and was less of a jerk as well. Not to mention, he seemed more inclined to open up to people, and that was definitely a good sign. Would he make a good werewolf at this point, though, Scott wasn't sure yet.
"As I said, strength of will is crucial to becoming a werewolf, and your recent alcoholic problems point to you not having a strong enough will. If you manage not to drink any alcohol for a month, I'll consider biting you," he offered, then added: "Just so you know, I can sense people lying to me, so there’s no sense in cheating."
Jackson blanched once he heard the warning. He stood up and started pacing around nervously. "A month?" he asked weakly. "Starting from now?"
Scott nodded, observing him carefully.
"What if I fail? What if I drink something, would that blow my chance at being bitten by you?" Jackson asked, biting his lip worriedly.
"No, of course not, it just means that you would need to start counting a month from that moment on, until you manage to be completely alcohol-free for thirty days in a row," Scott explained.
That seemed to calm down the boy a bit, but not entirely.
Not liking how stressed the boy was looking, Scott patted the bed beside him and said: "Come on, sit down, you're making me nervous when you're pacing like that." When Jackson obeyed, Scott placed a hand on his shoulder and assured him: "Look, it's alright not to be perfect. What matters is that you keep trying."
Jackson nodded tensely, still looking unsure of himself, so Scott rubbed his back comfortingly.
"Was that the only thing that you wanted to talk about?" he asked gently after a moment.
Jackson looked at him carefully, taking in their proximity and the way Scott kept touching him, and his face gained a determined look before he kissed Scott aggressively, taking him off guard.
Scott was shocked still for a split second, but Jackson’s tense shoulders and clenched jaw made him realize that the intensity of the kiss sourced from desperation rather than true passion, so he gently but firmly pushed the boy away.
They looked at each other wordlessly, before Jackson's face reddened with shame and he stood up, ready to leave. Scott quickly grabbed his hand, stopping him.
"You don't have to leave," he said quietly.
"Why would I stay?" Jackson asked bitterly. "I just opened myself up and you rejected me. There's not a reason for me to stay."
"That wasn't you opening up to me," Scott corrected him. "That was you trying to hide your true emotions behind lust which you don’t even feel, I can sense it. So rather than leaving, you may stay and tell me what you really want."
For a moment, the only sound that could be heard in the room was Jackson's harsh breathing as the teen battled with himself. Finally, his shoulders sagged and he sat on the bed again.
"I don't know, okay? I don't know what I want or who I am anymore," Jackson admitted, desperate and frustrated.
"And you thought that kissing me would help you figure it out?" asked Scott with disbelief.
"I thought that it would prove if I'm gay, at least," the boy said ashamed, looking at the floor dejectedly. "Look, I know that it wasn't fair of me to try to use you like that. I promise I won't attempt to kiss you again."
Since Jackson was still avoiding his eyes, Scott put a hand on his chin and tilted it up gently.
"You wanted to explore your sexuality with me?" he asked calmly, while inwardly he was in turmoil.
Jackson nodded silently.
Scott wondered how far he could go with Jackson without feeling guilt or regret afterwards. He didn't want to give the boy the wrong impression, but he knew from his own experience how confusing figuring out one's sexuality could be. If this was the first time Jackson had attempted to have any kind of physical contact with a man, rejecting him completely might cause the boy to hide in his shell again and make him keep pretending to be heterosexual as he had before.
"Look, I can't give you anything more than that, but I can certainly tell you what was wrong with that kiss," Scott said finally.
"What was wrong with it, then?" asked Jackson defensively and crossed his arms across his chest, building his walls back up.
That just wouldn't do, Scott thought. "I think it would be better if I showed you," he offered. "May I?"
Jackson nodded jerkily, looking nervous but determined.
Scott took Jackson’s hands and unfolded them, then circled his own waist with the boy’s arms, pressing them closer to each other.
"You don't kiss with your mouth only. If done properly, the whole body is engaged," Scott murmured, then cupped Jackson's cheeks with his palms and kissed him.
It was a gentle press of lips to lips at first, tentative, asking permission. Then, when Jackson started to respond, he kissed him more firmly, but still languidly, sensually, as he took his sweet time exploring Jackson's mouth. He moved his hands so that one was placed on the boy's neck, tilting his head for the perfect angle, while the other hand was caressing Jackson's back, pressing them even closer.
Slowly, with each caress of their lips and tongues, Jackson relaxed and turned almost pliant in his arms, letting out a dreamy sigh when Scott kissed him one last time and pulled back. The time traveller looked thoughtfully at the blissful expression on Jackson's face. The boy's eyes were half-closed in pleasure, and he felt something akin to sadness that they weren't meant for each other. Whoever Jackson's future lover would be, Ethan or someone else, they were going to be lucky.
As if sensing his thoughts, Jackson eyelashes fluttered as he opened his eyes slowly. "I never thought that a kiss could be anything like this," he admitted.
"Nice, I hope?" Scott asked with a small smile.
"Yes, but also… relaxing. Unhurried," said Jackson. "I only knew them to be lustful."
"Don't get me wrong, I enjoy sultry, hot kisses as much as any man," said Scott playfully. "But there's more to kisses than lust, and there's more to sex than desire. Don't try to separate your sexuality from your feelings, Jackson, because it won't end well for you or your future partner," he warned gently.
Jackson swallowed and asked: "But it's not going to be you, is it?"
Scott shook his head slowly. "I'm sorry, but I don't do casual relationships. I need to be in love to be with someone, and I'm not in love with you."
Jackson only nodded, disappointed but not surprised.
"Do you feel comfortable enough around me to sleep in one bed, or do you wish me to get an air mattress?" Scott asked. "I'm fine with both options, so it's your choice, really."
Jackson looked at him, unsure. "Do you mean sleeping together, without sex? How does that even work?" he asked with obvious confusion.
Scott felt sorrow that Jackson had only ever known physical closeness if it was linked with desire. "Let me show you," he offered, and smiled when Jackson nodded slowly.
***
When they were lying together under the covers, Jackson couldn't help but feel awfully awkward and embarrassed. He was acutely aware of all his body parts that were touching Scott's, and he could feel soft hair on the teen's legs as they were pressed to his. They tickled slightly, and he couldn't say how he felt about this. Was it pleasant, or uncomfortable? He wasn't sure.
"You're thinking too much," Scott said quietly. "If I'm too close, you can always move away, I won't mind. Nothing in you staying here is obligatory, you know."
Jackson wondered. Did he want to create more space between them? He didn't know. The warmth of Scott's body was kind of... pleasant, actually. Was there any reason why he couldn't just enjoy the feeling? They were alone, and there was no one here to criticize Jackson for acting childishly or unmanly.
Feeling rebellious, rather than move away he pressed himself closer to Scott, filling all the crooks and angles of the teen's muscled body with his own.
"Now that's what I call a proper cuddle," Scott murmured appreciatively into the back of his neck, the teen's warm breath sending a shiver down his spine.
As Scott circled him loosely with his arm, Jackson blushed but didn't move away. It felt strangely good, to be held like that.
With their bodies being so close to each other, Jackson’s bum was pressed into Scott’s groin and through the fabric of their boxers he could feel that the teen wasn’t aroused. He didn't know whether to be offended by that - surely, he was at least somewhat attractive? - or to be comforted by it. Finally, he settled for the latter, and allowed himself to relax. There was no danger here, nothing to be afraid of.
And then he started to talk, quietly, hesitantly. He told Scott about his adoptive parents, how they wanted to project an image of a perfect family, father providing for them financially, mother taking care of the house. There was no place for Jackson in that picture, not really, only for a perfect son with a stellar reputation. It had worked for a time, Jackson's popularity at school appeasing his father's demands to a point. But when Jackson had lost his captainship…
Not able to speak through his suddenly clenched throat, he fell silent.
"What did he do?" Scott asked quietly.
To his embarrassment, Jackson sniffed miserably, tears welling in his eyes. "He ordered me to kneel on the floor and not move for hours. I know that it doesn't sound so terrible, but…"
He heard Scott's sharp intake of breath.
"Kneeling on a hard floor for an extended period of time without being allowed to change position… that's awful! Jackson, I'm so sorry, please believe me that had I known that you would be punished, I would have never accepted the captainship in the first place, it's not worth causing you pain," Scott said regretfully.
Jackson closed his eyes and finally allowed his tears to fall, his body shaking while he sobbed. He had tried to be strong for so long that when his mask finally cracked, he totally broke apart and he couldn't make himself stop. Through it all, Scott kept hugging him tightly, and Jackson clutched at the teen's arm like it was a lifebelt.
When he finally stopped crying, Jackson felt weak and empty, but it was a good kind of emptiness. He was covered in tears and snot, though, and he felt awfully embarrassed at the state he was in.
As if sensing his discomfort, Scott loosened his hold on him and instructed: "You know where the bathroom is, go clean up and then come back to me."
Jackson nodded and obeyed. He liked being told what to do, especially when the orders were clear and achievable. To clean up and return to Scott... he could do that.
Once he felt that he looked less like a mess and more like himself, he walked back to Scott's room and slipped under the covers, long past being embarrassed at lying in one bed with another boy.
"We'll talk again in the morning if you want to, but for now just try to get some sleep, alright?" Scott suggested while stroking Jackson's head with his palm, fingers combing through the strands of hair.
Jackson nodded, closing his eyes, and slowly drifted to sleep while Scott kept petting his hair gently.
Notes:
Some of you guessed that the talks were going to be about the bite, but I bet that no one suspected the KISS! :D
Chapter 63
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Jackson woke up alone and he couldn't quite decide if he felt relieved or disappointed. When he had broken down the night before, he had been too sad and depressed to care about the fact that he was sharing a bed with another boy, even though nothing had really happened between them. Still, the morning after was bound to be awkward… or would be, if Scott was present so that Jackson had someone to be awkward with.
He sighed and sat up on the bed, thinking about the day before. He knew that Scott wasn't interested in him, but he couldn't just wipe the memory of their kiss from his mind. It made him feel cherished and cared for as he had never felt before and he yearned to feel it again, though he knew that was out of the question. And the hugs… they were perfect, there was no other word for it. He wondered if he could do something, anything, to win Scott's affection at least, if love was off the table.
As if on cue, the door opened and Scott entered, already dressed for the day but with hair still slightly damp from the shower.
"Hi Jackson," the teen greeted with a small smile. "How are you feeling?"
Jackson hesitated for a moment too long and Scott noticed it immediately, his smile dropping a bit, though his expression remained open and kind.
"Hey, you know that you can be honest with me, right? You don't need to hide your feelings or pretend to be alright if you're not," Scott said gently as he sat down beside him.
Jackson swallowed with difficulty. Could he do this? Could he be honest, truly and without reservations?
"I feel… awkward. Uncertain. But I-" he hesitated a bit, before admitting: "I liked our closeness. From yesterday, I mean. And I wouldn't mind if we… remained that way," he finished awkwardly.
Scott looked surprised but pleased, and he pulled Jackson into his arms as if it was as natural as breathing for him, to simply hug people whenever possible, and Jackson loved it. He loved the ease of it, no questions asked, just a simple affection offered without needing to explain why Jackson wanted it in the first place.
Afterwards, when they went downstairs to prepare breakfast, Scott kept touching him casually every now and then, be it a gentle rub on the back or a short caress of their hands meeting in passing. And though they made Jackson flush a bit, he still immensely enjoyed each caress, no matter how insignificant.
For a fleeting moment he wondered if he should feel embarrassed at acting like a touch-starved kid, before he decided that he didn't give a damn. For once he wished to act as he wanted and not as everyone else expected him to, and if that meant being a little bit too clingy, then so be it.
***
Scott could honestly say that he was discovering a side of Jackson which he hadn't seen before, not even in the first timeline. The Jackson that he had known previously was sarcastic and kept everyone at arm's length to the point that Scott had never even considered offering him any kind of physical affection. Now, he wondered if that hadn't been yet another of Jackson's masks, one that the boy had never allowed himself to drop.
Still, showering Jackson with affection so openly had a side effect of drawing his mom's and Isaac's attention, and he saw the considering glances they were giving the both of them. Maybe that was one of the reasons why when Stiles came with a visit during breakfast, Scott gladly welcomed the distraction.
"Derek wants to bite me," Stiles blurted, flopping into one of the free chairs looking rather overwhelmed.
His confession caused a variety of reactions: Melissa dropped her fork, Isaac spilled the orange juice onto the table and Jackson choked on his toast. Scott only sighed and thumped Jackson on the back while Isaac ran to the kitchen to get paper towels.
"A great way to start a conversation, Stiles," Scott commented wryly. "Should I congratulate you, or offer my condolences? Judging by your looks it's really hard to tell."
Stiles buried his face in his hands. "That's the thing, I don't know either," he moaned.
"Wanna talk about it? We can go to my room, if you prefer," Scott suggested.
"Yes, please," Stiles agreed without any sarcastic comment, which was telling in itself how out of his depth he was feeling at the moment.
"Jackson, do you want to stay and wait for me to finish talking with Stiles, or do you want to go home already?" Scott asked.
"I'll finish breakfast and go home, my parents will be probably expecting me soon," the boy said with obvious reluctance, and Scott frowned worriedly.
"Listen, my mom or Isaac will give you my phone number, feel free to call me anytime, alright?" he offered.
"That would be great," agreed Jackson.
"Alright, see you later then," Scott said, but not before placing his hand on the back of Jackson's neck in a fleeting caress. Among werewolves this particular gesture was a sign of belonging, if not an outright mark of ownership between an Alpha and his or her Betas, and judging by the slight blush on Jackson's face he must have instinctively understood it as well.
As Scott went with Stiles upstairs, he couldn't help but think that Jackson will make an excellent Beta.
***
When Scott and Stiles left, Jackson gulped at seeing the inquisitive glances sent his way.
"So, you and Scott?..." Isaac asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
"What? No, no, no, it's nothing like that," Jackson protested, pretending to be extremely interested in his plate.
"Come on, I haven't seen Scott acting like that with anyone, well, beside me," Isaac pressed. "Surely, you two have kissed, at the very least?"
"That's- completely beside the point, and not your bloody business," Jackson said with a glower, though his bright blush betrayed him.
"I knew it!" chirped Isaac with a satisfied smirk which Jackson dearly wanted to wipe off his face, preferably in a painful, messy way.
"Jackson, language. Isaac, leave the poor boy alone, it's completely normal if he feels shy about his relationship with Scott," Mrs McCall said sternly, before adding warmly: "Jackson, dear, maybe I'll pack you some homemade cookies so that you could take them with you?"
Jackson brightened at the mention of cookies, he had already eaten some and they were delicious.
"Gladly, Mrs McCall," he said gratefully.
"Chocolate chips or peanut butter, which ones do you prefer?"
"Both?" Jackson said, unable to choose.
"Both it is," Mellisa said with a smile and went to the kitchen to have them packaged.
As Jackson returned to his breakfast, he never realized that he hadn't denied being in a relationship with Scott, distracted as he was by the question about cookies.
***
Upstairs, Scott sat on the chair while Stiles paced nervously around the room.
"I thought that I wanted to be a werewolf, but when the opportunity presented itself… I just can't make up my mind about it," Stiles confessed. "What if I hate being a werewolf? For all that we know it's irreversible."
Scott decided not to tell him that there was a myth of a way to become human again if one killed the werewolf that was responsible for the bite. After all, the last thing he wanted was to give Stiles excuses to consider murdering Derek if the two of them would ever argue, which he suspected will be happening rather a lot.
"You can talk with me or Derek and ask us any questions that come to your mind, but ultimately no one can make that decision for you," said Scott matter-of-factly. "I know that it may not be of much help, but it's the truth. Think of it as a… calling of sorts. Either you feel it, or you don't."
"You're right, that's unhelpful as hell," Stiles grumbled.
"Well, tell me what bothers you the most," Scott suggested "The physical changes to your body? The werewolf hunters' threat? The relationship with your Alpha?"
Stiles looked at him weirdly. "What relationship? He just… bites me, right?"
Scott sighed. "Didn't Derek explain anything to you, how the Alpha-Beta bond works?" he asked.
"I got overwhelmed and kinda ditched him shortly after he made the offer," Stiles admitted, rubbing his neck awkwardly. "Though I partly blame his car for distracting me."
Car? Scott only shook his head, not wanting to pursue the topic. After having known Stiles for so long he had a feeling that he would be better off not knowing.
"Basically, unless one of you rejects the bond or closes it afterwards, you and Derek are going to be emotionally connected," he explained, instead. "Though admittedly, the depth of the link may vary from a very faint, barely-there ghost of a feeling, to a very deep, intense bond that would allow you to consciously transmit emotions between the two of you."
"Alright, got it," Stiles said, still looking as nervous as before.
"Stiles, stop pacing and just tell me what really bothers you so much about becoming a werewolf," Scott finally said when his friend's anxiety only seemed to grow.
Stiles' shoulders sagged as he said: "I wonder what my dad would say if he knew, or worse, how am I going to keep this from him. I'm not that good of an actor, he's going to know immediately that something's different about me."
Scott nodded thoughtfully as Stiles' reluctance finally started to make sense. His friend's relationship with his dad had its ups and downs, but ultimately they loved each other very much and were closer to each other than most fathers and sons. It was no wonder that Stiles was so reluctant to jeopardize their relationship.
"Okay, that's easy to solve. Let's meet with the Sheriff and tell him about the supernatural world, I can always transform to make him believe us," Scott suggested, because honestly, that was bound to happen sooner or later. And if getting the Sheriff on board would ease Stiles' mind and help him make the decision - whatever it was going to be - well that was just an additional boon.
"Really, you would do that for me?" Stiles perked up immediately.
"I know that recently I've not been spending as much time with you as I should, and with everything that is happening that's not going to change anytime soon, but I'm still your friend," Scott said honestly. "If I can do something, anything to help you, I will. Showing off my fangs and claws to your dad is the least that I can do."
When Stiles beamed at him, Scott felt that for once he was doing something right and not alienating Stiles any further.
Notes:
yup, the Sheriff is going to be told about the werewolves! Is he going to laugh? Is he going to have a heart attack? I don't know yet, I guess we'll all find out when the next chapter writes itself ;)
Chapter 64
Notes:
And now we're going to take a peek at how Deucalion's doing... which is not that good, I'm afraid to say.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Deucalion inspected his arm and leg with a worried frown. His wounds festered, there was no other word for it, and the skin around them was swollen and warm to the touch. Not to mention the pain which was his constant companion, mostly pulsing and sickly hot, but if he made a wrong move it immediately morphed into a wickedly sharp needle which rendered him useless within seconds.
And if that wasn't enough, he needed to figure out how to survive being surrounded by packmates who apparently wanted to see him dead. The only consolation was that Ennis thought that by leaving the building he was out of Deucalion's hearing range, and he didn't intend to correct him on that.
How long has it been, three days already? And he still hasn't started healing, Kali! How long do you want to wait? the treacherous werewolf asked. Help me kill him, so that I can become an Alpha again!
I don't know, Ennis, he's still the strongest of us all. We'll only have one chance to do this, and if we fail, he'll kill us on the spot, said Kali reluctantly.
Smart girl. If they'll try to take him down, he surely won't just stand uselessly, though how effective his defense attempt in his current state would be, he didn't know.
Still, Deucalion had heard enough. He needed to leave, and leave now. He didn't intend to spend another night under the same roof with the people who wanted him dead.
"Boys, I need you to help me get into the car," he called out to Aiden and Ethan and they were by his side at once.
During the past few days they had been an enormous help by bringing food to his room and being at his beck and call whenever he needed anything. He knew that they were planning to switch sides and join Scott, but apparently they were still waiting for the events to unfold before making the final decision, and even if that knowledge hurt, he still appreciated their support in the meantime.
"Where are we going?" Aiden asked.
"The hospital. Maybe once the bones are properly set, the healing will kick in," Deucalion explained.
They dutifully packed his bag with some essentials, like change of clothes and some toiletries, then helped him stand up and walk to the car.
Once inside, Deucalion released a breath that he didn't know how long he had been holding. He hated lying in his bed motionlessly, he needed to be in motion in order to feel at least partially in control of the situation.
They rode in silence for a moment, when Deucalion said quietly: “I know about your plan of joining Scott’s pack.”
The boys stiffened, he could hear their hearts beating faster in distress.
“It’s only a last resort, if you don’t get better,” Aiden explained finally, trying to remain calm while driving the car.
“And do you think that Scott will be so eager to take in the werewolves who abandoned their previous Alpha?” Deucalion asked sardonically.
“We’re not abandoning you!” Ethan protested. “We’re just… preparing for the worst.”
“I’m not dead yet, and I don’t plan to die anytime soon,” Deucalion drawled lazily, trying to appear more sure of himself than he really was. “When I was blinded, one of my Betas thought that I was powerless, that he could easily kill me and steal my power. His death only proved that I’m the strongest when I feel threatened, so it would be in your best interest if you didn’t try to test that yourself.”
“We don’t want your power,” said Aiden with blunt honesty. “We’re followers, we need a strong leader to follow, we don’t want to become one.”
“Good,” Deucalion said with a nod.
They drove the rest of the way in silence.
***
At the hospital a nurse inspected his wounds and after seeing the state that he was in, she immediately ushered him onto a wheelchair and drove him to a separate room. He was surprised by how quickly he was taken care of, but once they were alone, she asked him sharply: "You're him, aren't you? The bad guy who blinded my son."
"You're Scott's mother," he said with a sudden realization. Marin had told him that the boy's mother worked at the hospital, but he hadn't thought of it much at that time. After all, what were the odds that he would ever need to visit a hospital?
With the True Alpha in the picture, apparently quite high.
"I should leave you to rot, you miserable bastard," she hissed into his face. "What if he wasn't able to heal? You would have destroyed a sixteen year old boy's life for your own sick ambitions. You make me sick."
He said nothing, not knowing what to tell her.
"Tell me one reason why I should help you," the woman - Melania? or was it Melissa? - said coldly.
"Because I need help, badly," he said finally. "And I don't know where else to go."
He heard her heart beating furiously in her chest as she fought with herself.
"Fine, I'll take a look at your wounds, but don't expect any painkillers from me," she warned him, her hatred evident. "You deserve every bit of pain for what you did."
Needless to say, the next half an hour was excruciating as Melissa cleaned and disinfected his wounds, taking her sweet time with him.
"I hope that you don't have any insurance and will pay a fortune for the medical treatment," she said viciously as she drove him to the X-ray lab, her thirst for revenge apparently not appeased in the slightest.
And she wasn't incorrect, the medical expenses indeed cost a fortune which his pack didn't have. Oh, they had some savings, but they didn't come from an old wealth as the Hales did. If it turned out that he needed to go through a surgery after all, that would put a serious strain on their budget. But he couldn't think about that now, he needed to get better before he could start worrying about his pack's financial needs.
If he would even have a pack to care for once this nightmare was finally over.
***
The twins stayed with him for an hour or so before he told them to go back to their apartment.
"But, what should we be doing in the meantime?" Ethan asked, sounding lost.
"Eat something, rest, do your homework," Deucalion suggested with a roll of his eyes. "I'll call you if I need anything."
After they left, he took a nap before he was woken up by a doctor who came with his blood tests results.
"Are you taking immunosuppressants, Mr Emery?" the man who introduced himself as dr Geyer asked worriedly.
"No, I'm not taking any medications," Deucalion answered truthfully. He was a werewolf, he'd never needed any, after all. "Why do you ask?"
"Well, your body's healing processes are seriously impaired. If I had your blood test results in front of me without meeting you, I would have said that you're an old man with an advanced immunology or oncology disease. This interferes with the healing process," dr Geyer admitted.
"Interferes how?" Deucalion asked, suddenly wary of the turn this conversation was taking.
"Prevents it. I'm sorry to say, but your wounds haven't been disinfected or treated in time as they should have been. There is swelling, inflammation and skin discoloration which doesn't look good, and your body acts like it didn't have any natural healing mechanism to fight the infection. I will administer a wide range of antibiotics, so hopefully that will help."
The man didn't sound so sure of that and Deucalion frowned. "Hopefully? What will happen if they don't work on me?"
"I'm sure that's not-" dr Geyer tried to placate him but Deucalion interrupted him sharply.
"Doctor, what is the worst case scenario here?" he pressed.
"If the infection and tissue necrosis progresses, we might be forced to remove the affected body parts," the man admitted.
"Remove? Surely, you don't mean... an amputation?" Deucalion asked with a slight tremor in his voice which he wasn't quite able to suppress.
Dr Geyer was silent for a long moment. "I wish I could say that it's out of the question. But the way your body is acting… I haven't seen anything like this, and believe me that I have years of experience as a surgeon, so I have seen a lot. To put it simply, if the human body is a fortress, yours has already surrendered."
"I understand," Deucalion said, feeling strangely detached from himself. "Thank you, doctor, if that's all I wish to be alone, now."
"Of course. But please, don't lose hope. The antibiotics might work, after all," dr Geyer said and left, closing the door behind him.
Deucalion slumped onto the pillow. He had a feeling that the medications won't work on him, since the root cause of his weakness was not an internal issue but Scott's will preventing the wounds from healing. There was no escape from this.
Losing his arm and leg in addition to being blind… he won't survive this, not when he was an Alpha. Sensing his weakness, all vultures will surely race to kill him just to absorb his power. Maybe if he was a Beta or Omega he could be overlooked as someone not worth anyone's notice. But as an Alpha, and one who had only enemies and no allies… he was as good as dead, already.
But even if he survived this, how could he live being blind and a cripple all at once? He remembered how he had struggled when he had been first trying to learn how to cope without his eyesight. He couldn't imagine living without his arm and leg on top of that, when each, even simplest everyday activity was going to be a chore and a trial of his will.
And the most painful thought of all was that he couldn't blame anyone for the situation that he was in but himself. If he hadn't targeted all other packs he wouldn't be a pariah now, a powerful one, true, but still a pariah. He had been so sure of his superiority, of his unparalleled strength, that he hadn't ever stopped to think that no matter how powerful he became, there would always be someone stronger than him.
If only he had talked with Scott, if he hadn't made an enemy of him…
He had so many regrets, all of them leaving a bitter taste in his mouth, and underestimating that young True Alpha was one of the greatest of them all.
Notes:
BTW, the TV series doesn't say what Deucalion last name is, so I went with his real life surname. I mean, the actor's ;)
Chapter 65
Notes:
This chapter is about love and acceptance, since I wanted you to have a feel-good read before we truly delve into darker and more brutal parts (which you may expect starting from the next chapter).
But for now, enjoy!
Chapter Text
Noah Stilinski was not having a good day. He had a Saturday shift, and instead of spending his time at home, he was stuck at work dealing with drunkards and small thieves, not to mention picking up phone calls about lost pets and too loud neighbours. If this was what being a law enforcement officer was about, he needed to seriously rethink his life choices.
Not that he wanted to have more serious cases on his hands, like kidnappings or murders, as he never wished anyone to get hurt just because he was bored and frustrated with his job. Still, he couldn't help but feel that he was missing something, that he was barely touching on the surface of what life could be... Which was quite ridiculous, since he was not a person to have a midlife crisis, for god's sake.
He was filling another useless report when he was visited by his son, his usual partner in crime trailing behind him. He was glad to see the boys spending some time together, as he knew that they had had some kind of a fall out recently. However, he raised his eyebrows in surprise when Scott closed the door behind him and started to close the blinds on the windows as well.
"Stiles, Scott, what can I do for you," Noah said, chucking the unfinished paper into the drawer.
Stiles bit his lip and started to pace nervously around the office.
"Gosh, this is hard. Dad, what if I told you that I found a way to be faster and stronger, but that method has some… side effects. And I need you to help me decide if I should agree to it or not," he said finally.
Noah frowned, because that sounded suspiciously as if Stiles was talking about performance-enhancing substances like steroids or amphetamines, which was quite worrying.
"Son, are you talking about some kind of stimulants? Because if you are, then I don't need to hear more, they're no good and have more drawbacks than benefits," he warned.
"Whoa, no, it's not about drugs, where did you get that ridiculous idea from? Jeez," Stiles huffed impatiently.
"Well, what is this about then?" Noah asked, confused and slightly irritated.
"Stiles, let me," Scott interjected. "Sheriff, in your line of work, have you ever encountered any unsolvable cases or events who couldn't be logically explained?"
Noah snorted, because honestly? His whole career in the police was filled with them, and he had a whole closet full of files of unsolved cases only. "I've encountered plenty of them, but I don't understand how that is relevant?" he asked.
"They're unexplainable only because you don't see the full picture," Scott said, looking strangely solemn. "There is more to Beacon Hills than meets the eye, and humans are not the only race that inhabit the town."
Noah barked a laugh and commented wryly: "I think you have watched one too many TV series, Scott. What is this about, aliens from outer space, or maybe wizards and elves?"
"Werewolves, among other supernatural beings," the boy said seriously.
Noah snorted. "I'm not going to believe in a word you say until I actually see one with my very eyes-" he trailed off once he saw Scott's looks changing right before him, the boy's face gaining animal features including wickedly looking fangs and bright red eyes.
"I'm a werewolf, Sheriff," Scott said simply. "Do you want me to slice something with my claws as a proof?"
Noah gaped at him.
"Fuck," he muttered faintly, because either the world went crazy or he did. He sat in total shock for a couple long moments, trying to wrap his head around the idea that werewolves were real. "How?" he finally asked.
Scott turned back into a human and sighed. "Another werewolf bit me, all the stories have that one right, at least. Since then I'm stronger, faster and have enhanced senses. Also, I'm not asthmatic anymore."
Sheriff nodded. "That's right, I haven't seen you with an inhaler in quite a while. How could I not have realized sooner that you've changed?"
He was supposed to be the perceptive one, to see all the patterns and correlations around him. If he had not realized something so huge, what else had he missed?
"With all that was happening recently, I didn't have much time to visit," Scott said apologetically. "One of the reasons why I and Stiles argued recently is that I'm spending most of my time taking care of the pack matters and neglecting everything else."
"Pack? Like… wolf pack?" Noah asked incredulously. "What matters would that be, running through the woods and hunting deers?"
"Befriending werewolf hunters and fighting rival packs," Stiles chirped instead. "Our Scotty has been busy of late."
Noah shook his head. Werewolf hunters?... He was almost afraid to ask what that was about.
"So you see dad, I now have the option to become a werewolf too, and I can't decide if I want it or not," his son said, his shoulders sagging as he flopped down on the couch heavily.
Noah frowned as he hated to see his boy so torn and unsure of himself. He knew that Stiles had quite low self-esteem due to not being as muscled, attractive or popular as other boys his age, but then again, what teenager fully accepted himself?
He got up from his chair and sat down beside Stiles on the couch.
"I would need to know more about what being a werewolf entails before I can advise you on that, but even without that I can say one thing," he started. "I know you, Stiles. Once you really want something, you would break every rule just to get it and consequences be damned. The fact that you're hesitating about this whole becoming a werewolf thing tells me that your heart isn't in it. And you don't need to become one, your strength lies in your intelligence and perceptiveness. You're great just as you are, son."
Stiles looked at him with slightly misty eyes and he said: "Thanks, dad. I really needed to hear that."
Noah patted him on the shoulders, letting him know that he wasn't alone.
After a moment, Scott said: "Well, it seems that my task is done here. It was good to see you again, Sheriff."
"Likewise. And don't be a stranger, please. I still need to grill you about the whole supernatural stuff," Noah said and he winked at Scott so that the boy knew that he meant friendly questions rather than a hostile interrogation.
"Understood," replied Scott with a crooked smile and left.
***
Once he walked out of the police station, Scott wondered what he should do now. He had a couple of conversations ahead of him still, including informing Chris about the recent encounter with the Alpha pack, and a lengthy discussion with Deaton about, well, everything.
So, should he call Chris or Alan? Realizing that he had missed the hunter quite a lot, he chose Chris' number.
"Hi Chris, and before you ask, everything’s alright," he said once the man picked up the phone.
"I'm becoming predictable if you're able to read me so well," Chris said with a small laugh. "How are you doing?"
"Quite well, though the first encounter with the Alpha pack was a bit… intense. But everyone's fine, so you don't need to worry," Scott hurried to assure him.
"You met Deucalion already?" Chris asked, shocked. "I want to hear everything, in detail. Where are you?"
"The police station," Scott said.
"Are you in trouble?" Chris asked worriedly.
"No, nothing like that, I visited Stiles' dad, you know, the Sheriff? We told him about the supernatural, since Stiles considered becoming a werewolf too," Scott explained.
"What? No, don't answer that, just wait there and I'll meet you in ten minutes," Chris instructed.
"Will do," Scott replied easily.
He didn't have to wait long before the familiar looking red Chevy Tahoe stopped before him. He opened the door and promptly got into the car.
"The lake?" he suggested as he was fastening the seatbelts. Ever since their first conversation there it had become their favourite meeting place.
"The lake it is," Chris confirmed, then asked curiously: "So, what do I hear about your friend wanting to become a werewolf?"
"Well, at first he wanted to, but it seems that the more he thought of it, the more reluctant he became about the idea," Scott admitted. "He wanted to hear his dad's opinion on that, so we ended up revealing me being a werewolf to the Sheriff."
"Are you sure that's wise? He's a policeman, after all. Won't you get into any trouble, now that he knows?" Chris asked with a frown.
"Sheriff is the closest person to a father figure that I have," Scott confessed. "I can't imagine a universe in which he turns against me."
Chris visibly relaxed at his admission. "You have a lot of friends in all the right places, then," he commented wryly.
"That I do," Scott replied with a feeling.
He wondered if this would be enough this time around, though. How many more people would he need to get on his side in order to avoid the total war with the humans, which had happened in his first life? Was he doing enough to avoid extermination of his species? He didn't know. So far he was focused on recreating his pack, but soon he would need to start considering the bigger picture, he was fully aware of that.
Chris quickly realized the morose mood that he was in and didn't try to force a conversation, for which Scott was grateful. He was also quietly happy that the man knew him enough to read his emotions so well.
When they got out of the car, Chris said warmly: "Come here," and opened his arms invitingly. Scott went to him eagerly, enjoying the man's strong, tight embrace which made him feel utterly safe and cared for. Maybe it was finally time to trust that Chris was fully on his side, after all?
"You're almost as affectionate as my pack now," he muttered into Chris' chest.
"What can I say, you're rubbing off on me," the man said with a quiet laugh before releasing him from his embrace.
They sat on their favourite bench, facing each other.
"Tell me how you've met Deucalion," said Chris excitedly. "I'm almost dying of curiosity here. What happened?"
Scott thought for a moment. Telling everything in detail would take a lot of time, so he was tempted to use another method. But would Chris trust him enough to agree to it?
"Maybe instead of telling you, I'll show you?" he offered. "I'm an Alpha, I can share my memories with you."
Chris blanched, hearing that. "With your claws, you mean? Is that safe?"
"If done by me? Definitely. I've done this before and you saw that Peter's no worse for the wear," he commented lightly. "But seriously, it's just an offer, don't feel obliged to agree to it. If it's not something that you're comfortable with, I'll understand. I just thought that you would appreciate seeing what has transpired rather than being told about it."
Chris considered it for a moment. "That's tempting, but... are you sure that nothing will go wrong?"
"I wouldn't offer if I wasn't sure of my skills," Scott assured him. "I wouldn't needlessly put you in danger, you know."
"Alright, let's do it," Chris agreed, looking slightly apprehensive but mostly excited at the prospect.
Scott got up and circled the bench so that he stood behind the man. He then placed his hand on the back of his neck, getting familiar with its build and tracing the vertebrae gently with his thumb, before plunging his claws deep into the flesh.
He let the memories of that day appear in his mind, being approached by the twins, realizing that they had taken his friends hostage, then finally meeting with the Alpha pack. He then showed Chris the deal he had made with Deucalion, binding him using the Nemeton's power, and finally challenging him to the duel. When the fight started, though, he cut the memory in the middle and took out his claws, stopping the connection and making Chris gasp loudly.
"Alright there?" Scott asked while caressing the man's neck and healing the puncture wounds in the process.
"I'm fine, just… overwhelmed. Give me a moment," Chris said in a hoarse voice.
Scott sat back on the bench, looking at the man worriedly as he was white as a sheet.
Once he got a grip on himself, Chris said angrily: "That son of a bitch kidnapped three teenage kids and forced you to bite one of them! If I ever get my hands on him…"
"Deucalion has already been punished," Scott assured him. "You don't need to plan any revenge on my behalf, as I did it already."
"Scott, Deucalion is an augmented Alpha. He's the most powerful werewolf in this part of the country, at the very least. How could you have fought him? Hell, how did you even survive it?" the man asked incredulously.
"Chris, I'm a True Alpha," Scott reminded him gently. "In terms of physical strength, I'm quite close to being Deucalion's equal. However, in terms of inner power I'm his superior, and he learned it the hard way."
The hunter looked at him shrewdly, as if seeing him for the first time. "Is that why you have stopped the memory so abruptly? Because you didn't want me to see your true strength?" he asked with apprehension.
"No, Chris. I cut the connection because I was blinded in that fight. I didn't want you to experience having your eyes pierced by werewolf's claws, that's all," Scott said softly.
Chris swallowed heavily. "Blinded?..."
"Yes. But then I broke Deucalion's bones in retaliation, and his accelerated healing won't work as fast as usual. So you see, he's been suitably punished, and if he knows what's good for him he won't be making any aggressive moves towards me or my pack anytime soon," Scott assured him.
He hoped that Chris wouldn't turn against him because of what he had shown him. He didn't think that he would, but still, a part of Scott will always remain a bit insecure and seek his close ones' acceptance because that's the only thing that truly mattered to him.
***
The first time Chris had seen a glimpse of Scott's true power was when the teen had broken the mountain ash barrier, but apparently that was only a foretaste. Now, seeing Scott's memories of his encounter with the Alpha pack caused Chris to reconsider his earlier assumptions about the teen.
He had seen Scott's maturity and wisdom before, true, but it was the first time he actually witnessed his strength and ruthlessness. To think that this young werewolf, a kid still, went against the most powerful werewolf in this part of the US, and actually won… The realization was staggering.
"Hey, does my power… Does it change anything between us?" Scott asked worriedly.
Chris looked at him, truly looked at him. It was as if there were two Scotts McCall: one was a shy, kind kid wearing his heart on his sleeve, and the other was an Alpha werewolf, a leader and a warrior at heart. The dichotomy between them was evident, but somehow those two sides made Scott into a person that Chris both respected and deeply cared for.
He took the boy's hand in his and remembered that just a few minutes before he had allowed Scott to put his claws into his spine, trusting him with his life.
Yes, Scott was truly, undoubtedly dangerous. But then… so was Chris. But their strength or skills didn't matter as much as their morals did, and Scott had already proved time and time again that he deeply cared for people around him, Chris and Allison included.
"No, it doesn’t change a thing," he said finally, and his heart clenched when he saw the relief evident on Scott’s face and the way his whole body relaxed.
Powerful or not, this was still the boy who had wormed his way to Chris' heart, and he would be damned if he let him down ever again.
Chapter 66
Notes:
Warnings for this chapter: racist language, violence, attempted sexual assault (not of a main character)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Deucalion moaned quietly as he changed his position slightly, aggravating his wounds in the process. He was shivering, his joints and muscles ached, and his back and armpits were uncomfortably clammy and wet from sweat. Was this how having high fever felt like? Being a born werewolf he had never experienced one, so he didn't have anything to compare his current state to.
Melissa came in and administered yet another medication via the cannula, but he had already lost hope that they were going to be of any use. When she started to leave, he grabbed her forearm with his uninjured hand.
"I know that I don't have any rights to ask this, but… would you ask Scott to come?" he croaked, his throat parched.
"Why? So that you could guilt him into healing you? I'm not going to do that," she hissed at him and wrestled her arm from his grip. "You shouldn't have ever tried to harm my son. Now, you're going to reap the consequences."
"Please, if he doesn't help me, I'm going to lose my arm and leg," he said desperately. "Is your hatred of me that strong?"
"Stronger," she said coldly, then left, closing the door behind her and leaving him alone in the room.
As his body was wrecked with yet another wave of trembles and chills, he wondered if this was going to be his punishment for all the deaths that he had caused, directly or indirectly. Still, he couldn't give up hope, not yet. As soon as the twins come visiting, he'll ask them to talk with Scott at school and plead with him to let go of this curse or whatever it was that was stopping his wounds from healing.
He only hoped that it wouldn't be too late.
***
Liam was buzzing with excitement. He was finally going to see Scott, the first time in the last couple of weeks, since the older teen had been busy with the Winter Formal and "pack matters" as Scott was calling his mysterious group of friends. Sure, they had texted each other every now and then, but it wasn't the same. Liam had missed seeing the older boy, talking with him about anything and everything, not to mention the hugs. Oh, how he had missed those!
When the doorbell rang, he ran downstairs to greet Scott, but when he opened the door, he had only a split second to look at three burly looking men before he was hit hard in the face, and he staggered back.
"Get the kid, Zach," one of the strangers ordered and Liam was grabbed roughly. When he felt a cold metal touching his throat, he immediately stiffened in fright.
"That's right, kid, don't struggle or you'll get your neck opened," the man called Zach said into his ear, then started to push him into the living room.
When his parents saw the strangers walking into the house, holding a knife at Liam's throat, they immediately got up from their chairs, Liam's mother letting out a frightened scream.
"Shut up you bitch, or your son's going to bleed like a pig," the one who seemed to be the leader said harshly, before ordering: "Doug, the windows."
The man started to close the blinds, and the leader continued: "This is how it's going to be: no screams, or your precious son gets sliced into pieces. Got it?"
Jenna nodded weakly, her eyes filling with tears.
"Please, if you want money, we'll give you everything that we have, just don't hurt our family," Liam's dad pleaded with his hands raised in surrender.
That seemed to enrage the leader as the man hit David in the stomach with his fist, causing him to moan and curl in pain.
"Shut up, ape, you don't get to speak to civilized people," the leader growled. "Doug, you're done? Get a cord or something."
"Will TV cables do?" Doug asked, grabbing a handful of cables.
"Sure, bind the kid to a chair, I want him to see everything," the leader said with a sneer.
Still with a knife at his throat, Liam couldn't do anything as he was forced into a chair and bound tightly, his parents holding each other and observing it all with horror.
"Now, since that's out of the way…" the leader said, then walked up to Jenna, grabbed her hair and dragged her away from her husband forcefully. "You see, bitch, we got tired of watching you flouncing with that monkey for all people to see. It's indecent for a white woman to lie with a niggra, so today we're going to fuck that obscenity out of you," he leered at her as he grabbed his crotch and massaged it crudely.
"Leave my wife alone!" David bellowed and lunged at the man, who hit him again.
Once David staggered back, the thug called out: "Zach, the knife!"
Liam could only watch helplessly as the man caught the knife that his sidekick threw to him, and stabbed his stepdad in the abdomen, causing David to slide down the wall onto the floor, clutching the bleeding wound. Liam cried out with despair and was hit brutally in the face by Zach, who growled at him: "Keep quiet, or you're going to be next!"
The leader threw the now bloodied knife back and said: "Now, where were I? Oh yes, showing that bitch how much better it is to be fucked by a white man."
He then pushed Jenna to the ground and started to grope at her breasts brutally, not caring for her protests and pleas, while Liam looked at it all, sobbing.
***
Something wasn't right, Scott could feel it. Liam wasn't replying to his messages, and the blinds on the windows were closed, making it appear as if no one was at home, but he could hear voices inside. He left his bike on the lawn and came closer, focusing on the sounds coming from the house.
"... showing that bitch how much better it is to be fucked by a white man."
Scott had heard enough.
He opened the door and ran inside, using every inch of his superhuman speed. He couldn't risk giving the attackers time to gather their wits and take anyone hostage, so he threw himself at them without any warning. The first one went down as Scott smashed his head against the table, the second one followed him shortly after Scott slammed him into a wall. Finally, the third one swung his fists at Scott, but the teen grabbed the closest thing to him which turned out to be a metal lamp, and he rammed it hard into the man's temple.
Once the last attacker was down on the floor, unconscious, only then Scott allowed himself to look at Liam and his parents. It seemed that dr Geyer was in the worst condition, as he was sitting on the floor with his back pressed against the wall, clutching at the wound in his abdomen and pressing it to try to stop the bleeding, though it didn’t seem to make much difference as his whole shirt was already soaked in blood. Jenna was lying on the floor, crying and shaking, her clothes in disarray, while Liam was bound to the chair with what looked to be a cable, his face covered in bruises.
Scott ran to him and released him quickly, hugging the boy tightly for a second.
"How did you do that?" Liam asked weakly, his face wet from tears.
"I'll explain later, for now go help your mom while I'm organizing help for your dad," he instructed, squeezing the boy's shoulders comfortingly.
Liam nodded and went to his mom's side, so Scott took out his phone and called. “Mom, Dr Geyer and his family were attacked in their home, he's been stabbed so we need an ambulance as fast as possible. It looks like Liam was beaten as well but should be alright. No, I'm fine, but I need to go, so please send help as fast as you can, and call the police as well,” he told his mom quickly then disconnected.
He squatted beside David. "The ambulance is on the way," he assured him.
"I- the wound is too deep, the knife went through an artery and punctured the liver,” the man said weakly, his face white as a sheet. “I’m not sure if I'm even going to make it to the hospital. Scott, if I die, please-” he closed his eyes in despair. “Please take care of my family.”
Jenna let out a piercing wail, then pressed her hands to her mouth to muffle the sound, as she and Liam knelt beside the man.
“Always, but don't give up hope just yet,” Scott said. “I don’t have much time to explain, but I can heal your wound. Please try not to freak out, alright?”
They all looked at him uncomprehendingly, and then he morphed his nails into claws, making them gasp.
“Liam, give me your arm, please,” Scott asked quietly, and the boy complied without hesitation.
For the sake of making them believe in his words, Scott made a shallow wound on the boy’s forearm with his claw, and as he focused on healing it, the skin patched itself, leaving no trace of the gash.
“How?...” David asked quietly, looking at Scott with disbelief.
“I’m a werewolf and I can heal injuries made by myself. I can try to heal yours but I would need to insert my claws deep into the wound first. It will hurt, but it’s the only way that I know that could save your life,” Scott explained.
“Do it, then,” the man ordered and he took his hands away from his abdomen. “Do it before it’s too late.”
Scott took a deep breath, gathering his strength and resolve, then plunged his claws deep into the wound, causing David to moan and thrash weakly, but Scott’s grip held him tightly in place. Then, Scott took out his claws and pressed his palm to the bleeding gash, focusing all his Alpha powers on healing the man.
David gasped loudly and choked out: “It’s hot, so hot...”
“Good, that means that it’s working. Hang on there,” Scott asked him, then closed his eyes to fully focus on healing the wound.
It seemed like an eternity, though probably it lasted no more than a couple of minutes before Scott could feel the flow of the energy dwindling. He tentatively took his hands away, revealing the smooth skin underneath.
“Oh my God,” Jenna whispered, touching his husband’s body unbelievingly. The both of them cried with relief and kissed each other lovingly.
Scott felt his body swaying to the side and he would have fallen gracelessly to the ground if it wasn’t for Liam’s quick action as the boy caught him.
“What’s happening to you?” Liam asked worriedly.
“Don’t worry, healing a lethal wound such as this takes a lot of energy but I should be fine in a moment,” Scott explained, patting his hand consolingly.
Admittedly, building his power reserves back was going to take much longer than that, a couple of days at the very least, probably longer, but the physical fatigue should be much more short-lasting. Even now, he already started to feel his body regenerating itself and he straightened his back.
“Liam, find that knife with which your dad was stabbed, but be careful not to touch it,” he instructed the boy, who immediately obliged, looking around the living room.
“What do you need the knife for?” asked David once he stopped kissing his wife.
“Once the police see all the blood and take those thugs’ testimony, they’re going to know that something doesn’t add up if you’re not injured at all. We need to make a shallow gash where the wound was, just to keep up the appearances,” Scott explained.
“Good point,” the man nodded approvingly.
“What? Are you going to let yourself be stabbed again?” Jenna asked, horrified.
“Honey, it’s going to be okay, Scott’s right,” he said calmingly, then turned to the young werewolf: “I assume that you want to keep your… skills a secret?”
“The Sheriff knows about me, but even he can’t swipe something like this under the rug, so we better make it look as believable as possible,” Scott explained.
“Hey, I think that one of the guys is starting to wake up,” Liam warned in a shaking voice.
Scott looked in his direction and indeed one of the bodies lying on the floor was twitching slightly. He sighed, then got up and walked up to the thug, then grabbed him by the hair and smacked his head hard into the floor, making him fall into unconsciousness once more.
He looked up just to see Liam gaping at him with shock evident in his eyes.
“I’m sorry that you had to witness all that,” Scott said with a grimace. “Did you find the knife?”
“It’s behind the couch,” Liam pointed.
Scott took a dish cloth from the table, then grabbed the knife with it. He came closer to David, and squatted beside him.
“Do you want me to do it, or do you prefer making the gash yourself?” he asked the man.
Dr Geyer made a gesture as if he wanted to take the knife, but his hands shook so hard that he shook his head.
Scott nodded and said: “Trust me, I’m going to make only a shallow wound, nothing more.” He did it quickly, not wanting to prolong the stress they were all under. The man hissed quietly, but other than that he was keeping his cool admirably.
Scott stood up and put the knife exactly where it had been lying previously. When he straightened, he saw that Liam was observing him carefully. The boy’s face was unnaturally pale, even though his injuries were starting to redden and swell in places where he had been hit.
Was he going to lose Liam’s friendship, he wondered, was all of this violence too much for him?
“Liam, what about you? Are you hurt?” he asked instead, pushing his own insecurities away.
The boy shrugged. “They’re only bruises, they hurt but it's nothing serious,” he said, trying to sound brave, but his shaky voice undermined his efforts.
“Come here. I can’t heal you at the moment, but at least I can take your pain away,” Scott offered.
Liam took a couple of steps towards him and looked at him with apprehension. Instead of saying anything, Scott took the boy's hand in his own bloodied ones and focused on absorbing the pain, the black veins pulsing on his forearms.
“Better?” he asked softly.
As if this was the final straw, Liam's lips trembled and he threw his arms around Scott’s waist, shaking violently.
“What they almost did- If you weren’t here-” the boy cried and Scott circled him with his arms and held him tightly.
“I’m here. I’m always going to be there for you, if you’ll allow me,” he whispered into Liam’s ear. “I may be a werewolf, but I love you, kid. I’m never going to leave you if I have any say in it,” he promised.
Outside, the sirens could be heard.
Notes:
The idea for this chapter came to me weeks ago, when I wondered how I wanted Scott to come out of his 'being a werewolf' closet to Liam and his parents, so it's been deliberately planned for quite a while now.
Apologies if anything in this chapter offended you, but I needed it to happen for the storyline sake.
Chapter Text
When the police came, Scott let David take charge and explain what had happened, while the officers shackled the thugs and dragged them out of the house.
Shortly after the police the medics showed up as well, but apparently the ambulance couldn't hold more than a patient and one family member. Scott saw how torn Jenna was between accompanying her husband or consoling her son, who looked pale and lost still, so he offered: "Go with David and I'll ride with Liam."
Jenna thanked him purposefully before she was ushered to the ambulance by the paramedic.
"I'll drive the two of you to the hospital," the female Deputy offered and Scott recognized her immediately.
"That would be appreciated, Deputy Clark," he said honestly.
The woman's last name shook Liam out of stupor as he asked curiously: "Are you Hayden's sister?"
"Indeed I am. Do you know her?" Valerie asked as she led them to her car.
"Yeah, I mean, we're not exactly friends, but we definitely know each other," Liam confirmed awkwardly.
"Oh, you're that Liam," the Deputy said with a knowing look.
Liam just blushed and ducked his head in embarrassment.
Scott smiled at seeing the boy acting more like his usual self. He was glad that meeting Valerie gave Liam something to think about other than the horrible ordeal he'd just gone through. Still, when they sat at the back of the police car, he took the boy's hand in his, squeezing it comfortingly, and was happy when Liam leaned into him in response.
***
Once David had been stitched and Liam's bruises had been tended to, they finally had a moment for a small family reunion as David pulled Jenna and Liam into a much needed hug. Scott smiled and turned around to leave in order to give them some privacy, when David called after him.
"You're leaving already?"
"I don't want to disturb your family time," Scott explained awkwardly.
David looked at him seriously, then left the group hug and walked up to him. "You're not disturbing anything. With everything that has happened I didn't have a chance to thank you for saving me, saving us all. If it wasn't for you…"
"I'm glad that I was there in time. I only wish I stopped them sooner before they even had the chance to hurt any of you," the young werewolf said apologetically.
"Scott, while you did it admirably, it's not your job to be our guardian," David said, exasperated.
"But it is," Scott protested, and tried to explain: "You need to understand, for me the pack is like family, it means everything to me, and Liam's as close to being my packmate as possible without being a werewolf himself. So you see, protecting him, and by extension you, is very much my job."
David looked torn as he said: "I know that we owe you a huge debt for saving us today, but I still need to ask… What are your intentions towards Liam?"
"Hey! No talking about me without me," Liam protested and joined them, pressing himself to Scott's side.
The young werewolf circled the boy’s shoulders with his arm without a second thought, acting purely on instinct. Protect, his inner wolf ordered. Pup is young. Pup needs care. Scott couldn’t agree more.
"I think of him as if he was my own kid," he finally said. "There are very few things that I wouldn't do for him, and I'd never do anything that would intentionally harm him. Surely, you know me enough by now to believe that."
Liam blushed slightly but looked pleased and happy at the confession, while David breathed slightly in relief.
"I know that, and I'm sorry, but I needed to ask," the man said apologetically. “With you being… not human, I couldn’t help but worry, even though you’ve never given us any reasons to doubt you.”
"It's alright," Scott said with an easy acceptance. "And once this is all over, I'm going to tell you more about my world, I promise."
He knew that people feared and hated what they didn't understand, so he wanted to ensure that Liam's parents didn't have any reason to fear him or his pack.
***
Even though David said that he could stay with them, Scott decided to give them some much needed privacy. He promised to be back later and he left the room, then started to walk about without having any destination in mind, just to kill some time. He thought about visiting his mom, he had seen her briefly when they had arrived but apparently she was extremely busy today so he’d only assured her that everything was alright and that he’ll explain everything to her later.
Suddenly, he caught a familiar scent in the air, warm and spicy, like a mixture of cinnamon, ginger and anise. He stopped dead in his tracks as he recognized it immediately, since only one person he knew smelled this distinctly.
Deucalion.
What was the Alpha doing in the hospital? Was Deucalion spying on him? Surely the man wasn't going to attack him here, in front of so many people... Or was he?
Scott walked down the hall following the scent, and stopped in front of one of the rooms where it was the strongest. He hesitated for a moment before he placed his hand on the handle and opened the door abruptly, his body wounded impossibly tight in anticipation of an attack. However, what he saw instead shocked him to the core.
Deucalion was lying on the hospital bed, his body shivering slightly, his face flushed and glistening from sweat. Unable to tear his eyes away from the man Scott entered the room, closing the door behind him with suddenly clammy hands.
"Deucalion? What… what happened?" he asked weakly.
The man turned his head in his direction and said in a hoarse voice: "Did Melissa tell you that I'm here, after all?"
"My mom, she knows? No, I caught your scent and followed it here," Scott replied, coming closer. Nothing made any sense in this. Why was Deucalion here, and how come his mom had known about this and never told him?
"Have you come to admire your work, then?" the man rasped.
"What? Wait, I'll get you some water, your voice sounds awfully hoarse," the teen offered. He grabbed a plastic cup and filled it with water from the dispenser, then walked up to Deucalion and gently propped his head with his hand so that the man didn't choke, noting with worry how unnaturally hot his skin was.
"Thank you," Deucalion said quietly, then said hesitantly: "I know that you have every right to hate me, but would you… would you at least consider… It's my arm and leg, without them I'll- I can't-" the man let out a choked sound, something between a rasp and a sob.
Scott listened to his words with a growing horror. He had never, ever seen Deucalion in such a state, and seeing it tore his heart into pieces. Wait, he had said his arm and leg, did that mean-
"May I see?" he asked, hoping against hope that his suspicions were unfounded.
Deucalion nodded wordlessly and Scott took the sheet off him, revealing the hideously looking injuries, swollen and seeping fluid, the skin around the wounds varying between sickly yellow and brownish red.
Scott muffled a cry with his hand. This was his doing. He had only wanted to teach Deucalion a lesson, and to scare him off targeting Scott's pack ever again, but instead… he had caused this. And he didn't have enough power left in him to heal even a minor injury, much less wounds so serious.
"I can't… I can't heal you," he admitted in a strangled tone.
Even despite his fever, Deucalion's face turned ice cold as he said: "I thought that you were different, but I guess that you're just like everyone else. Leave me, then."
Scott grabbed his uninjured hand desperately, trying to convey his sincerity. "No, you don't understand... I would do everything to heal you, I swear, I never wanted to cause this, but I've already used up all my power to heal another lethal wound, and I have almost nothing left."
Holding Deucalion's hand reminded him of another scene from his past, one that he'd never forget.
The gunshots thundered through the air as multiple bullets tore through Deucalion's body.
Dying, the man gently placed his hand on Scott's.
“Gerard, what he- fears most- is he can’t beat you. And he- knows it.”
The last, dying, blood-stained smile and Deucalion body stilled, his eyes unseeing-
He couldn't, he wouldn't let Deucalion be hurt because of him, not ever again. There was an unpaid debt between them, and even though Deucalion wasn't aware of it, Scott was, and it was the only thing that mattered.
Gathering his resolve, he said grimly: "I'll do whatever it takes to help you, I swear."
He circled the bed and placed his palm on the man's leg, as it was looking even worse than the arm, trying not to aggravate the wound. "Brace yourself, the feeling's going to be scorchingly hot," he warned.
He closed his eyes and focused on the source of his power. If it was a well, it was almost completely dry. He didn't care, all he had to do was to… dig deeper. And dig he did, clawing at the bottom of his very being and even further, and it hurt, god how it hurt, as if he was shredding himself from the inside. He didn't care, though, and he ignored his own pain as he took everything that he had in him, every ounce of his strength, of his very life, and let it flow into Deucalion's injury.
He didn't even register when his nose started to bleed.
Chapter Text
When Scott came to his room, Deucalion felt a tentative hope that maybe there was a chance for him to keep his arm and leg, after all. When the boy offered him a sip of water to ease his parched throat, that hope grew even stronger. Scott seemed sympathetic and kind, his touch was ever so gentle. Surely, he wouldn't want to incapacitate him for life?
Still, he felt ashamed of the way he nearly begged Scott to heal him. But what good sticking with his pride would do for him, now? He had nothing left to lose, after all. Or so he'd thought, until Scott denied his request, and that rejection stung worse than it had any right to. Sooner or later, all people turned against him, he had learned that lesson years ago. So the question remained: why Scott's rejection bothered him so much?
Then the young werewolf started explaining how he had never wanted to hurt him to this extent, and how he would help him if only he hadn't healed someone else already. So it was only a matter of bad timing? Deucalion didn't know whether to laugh or weep, because it was just his kind of rotten luck.
After a moment Scott seemed to have steeled his resolve and promised to try to heal him, after all. Overwhelmed by a sudden surge of gratefulness, Deucalion remained silent, not trusting his voice anymore. He had lost his faith in people's good will long ago, and it was a humbling experience to be proved wrong.
Even despite the warning that he had been given in advance, the healing felt as if a white hot flame was licking at his wound. He gasped loudly, but tried to keep himself still to avoid distracting the young Alpha at his work. After a while he smelled a metallic, half sweet, half salty smell that he was more familiar with than he would like: blood. He didn't think that it was his, though. But if he wasn't the one bleeding, that meant-
"Scott, you need to stop," he said without thinking. "You're hurting yourself, you can't-"
Instead of receiving a reply he felt that the teen's hand that was holding his leg went limp and after a second a loud thud could be heard in the room as Scott's body crumpled to the ground.
He silently cursed his own blindness as he couldn't see what was wrong with the boy. Groaning, he propped himself up and carefully swung his legs to the floor. While he was still in a lot of pain, it wasn't as excruciating as before, so apparently Scott's attempts at healing worked, if only a little bit. He'd gladly take even the smallest reprieve, so he was far from complaining.
He could hear Scott's heartbeat still, though it was very slow and irregular. Carefully maneuvering his body, he sat down near the boy and placed his palm on his face. The skin felt chillingly cold, and that was even more worrying as no living being should ever feel this cold. Even with the limited knowledge that he had, Deucalion suspected that the young werewolf's state was grave, and he wondered why that thought even saddened him. If Scott had already done everything that he could to heal him and wasn't of any use any longer, Deucalion shouldn't care if the boy lived or died. His death should be irrelevant to him, or even be of some relief that another threat to his life was going to be so easily eliminated. So why did those thoughts make him sick to his stomach?...
Suddenly, the door opened and two people came in, their moves eerily synchronized, which made him recognize them at once.
"Whoa… What happened here? Did Scott attack you?" Aiden asked, kneeling next to him.
"No, he tried to heal me, even though he was already exhausted," Deucalion explained. While he was flattered by Aiden's belief that he could take Scott down so easily, he wasn't going to claim such an achievement when it was so far away from the truth.
"He doesn't look good," Ethan commented as he joined them. "What do we do?"
Deucalion frowned. While he had an extensive experience in plotting, manipulating and threatening people, he knew next to nothing about healing them, which was yet another field in which Scott was superior to him. It should make him angry, but instead he only felt inadequate and powerless.
"Let's wait a couple of minutes, maybe he'll wake up on his own," he finally decided, trying to hide how out of his depth he truly felt.
The unsaid question hung in the air: what if Scott didn't wake?
***
When Scott slipped into unconsciousness, it was as if a candle that was flickering for quite a while was finally extinguished. The darkness that overcame him was cold, thick, and smelt of moss and earth. He welcomed the sensation, as it felt familiar to the wolf side of him, like return to the roots, far away from human struggles and concerns. He could stay in this cold, endlessly calm place and if not happy, he could at least be content.
This feeling of being home at last, it felt so right. So why did it also feel so wrong, so foul, like the worst kind of betrayal?
And then he remembered. He had promised his pack not to leave them, to never give up on them. Derek, Peter, Jackson, Liam - they all counted on him. And he had promised Deucalion to heal him, to do whatever it takes. He gave them all his word, and he would be damned if he was forced to break it.
With an effort he tried to see anything around him. Was there any way back from here?...
In a far distance, he saw a flickering of something that wasn't black. He didn't know what it was, but it was different from the thick darkness that surrounded him, and it was enough for him. With a direction in mind, he started to move. It felt as if he was trying to walk in a deep, thick mud, and his tempo was agonizingly slow, but he was determined to reach his goal even if it took him ages to do it.
Thankfully, with each step it was easier to move, as if making the first step was the hardest. After some time he was able to realize what he was seeing.
It was the Nemeton, but not the pitiful tree stump that he recalled from his first timeline. No, this was a mighty, majestic tree, its leaves glittering like emeralds, pulsing with a deep green light. Around the tree a girl danced, humming quietly, but stopped at the sight of him.
"Hello, little wolf," she greeted.
"Hello, Meredith," he said, looking with awe at her glowing face and long, wavy hair, falling with a cascade over her shoulder. She looked nothing like the Meredith that he remembered. "Is this really you?"
"I am Meredith, from time to time, yes. But sometimes, Meredith is me. Same but separate, together, we are one," she murmured, then cocked her head curiously. "Why are you here? The Wild Hunt has not been unleashed yet, the Hell Hound is not yet awoken. Why have you come?"
"I… promised someone too much, I know that now, but a promise is a promise. I can't go back on my word now, so I need to… return," he explained awkwardly.
She tutted with displeasure. "You're surrounded by bonds, and vows, and promises. They're tight already, and they'll become tighter still. Do you want us to break these bonds?"
"Can you do that? How?" he asked with amazement.
"This is the in-between, the state between being and not being, and death is the end of all things," she said patiently, looking at him with his big, bright eyes.
Scott was tempted, so tempted to let go of his burdens, to not worry about anything or anyone, to be free of all obligations. And yet…
The pack remains forever.
He rolled the sleeve of his t-shirt and showed Meredith his pack symbol, the one that he shared with Derek: an infinity symbol within a circle.
"Can death break this ?" he asked, almost fearing an answer.
Meredith took his arm and inspected the mark for a moment. "We… we don't know," she admitted, looking surprised at her? their? inability to answer. "It's a powerful sign, and you make it more powerful still. You have bent the rules before, young wolf, and played with both time and destiny. Maybe you could trick death as well?" she shrugged, unconcerned, and would have started dancing once more if he didn't grab her forearm, stopping her in place.
"Do you know how I can return, then?" he asked her, desperately.
She frowned at him, unhappy at being interrupted. "What exactly caused you to come here?"
"I gave too much of me to another, leaving nothing for myself," he admitted. That had been reckless of him, he knew that. Still, he owed Deucalion that much. A life for a life…
As if reading his thoughts, she nodded. "A life for a life. In order for you to go back to the leaving, someone needs to give their life for you."
Scott closed his eyes in despair. No. He couldn’t, he wouldn't …
"Meredith can give you her life," the girl said solemnly. "But it will cause me to be alone. I don't like being alone," she pouted. "You must promise to bring another to the Nemeton so that we can become one."
"Another girl?" Scott asked, apprehensive.
"Another Banshee," the girl corrected him. "Together we see more, we see clearer. I'll show her more than only the visions of death. Agreed?"
Scott shuddered. Was he about to make another binding deal involving Lydia without her knowledge or consent?
"If I bring her to you, can it be her decision if she wants to be… one with you?" he asked cautiously.
"The best door is the one opened by the host, not by the visitor," she said mysteriously, but seeing his frustrated face, she took a pity on him and explained: "Being one is similar to love: it can never be forced, or it is not true."
Scott breathed in relief. One thing less to be guilty about. But still… Asking Meredith to sacrifice herself for him, it was almost too much to bear and he couldn't believe that he was even considering this.
"Meredith is ready to cross the in-between," the girl assured him, confirming that she was able to read his thoughts, at least to some extent. "We always take a peek, we see things, but we never cross the gateway. The allure of death is a siren's call, and Meredith doesn't want to resist anymore."
"But I don't want anyone to be hurt because of me," he said, protesting weakly.
"And yet by taking the pain from all the people around you, you rob them of their right," she chastised him sternly. "Experience brings knowledge, loss teaches wisdom. If you're hoarding the right to suffer and take it from all the people around you, you don't let them grow."
Scott swallowed hard. Was he truly doing that? Were his attempts to save everyone truly harming them in the process?
"You have a true heart, young wolf, but your life is as much important as theirs or even more so, because so much depends on you. You must learn to find the balance between saving people and saving yourself," the girl said gently. "You'll have your chance to make a sacrifice when the Wild Hunt arrives. Until then, you must take care of yourself."
"I will," he promised solemnly. "And Meredith? Thank you. I really appreciate it."
For a moment he saw her just as he remembered her, the short hair, plain face, eyes flickering to the side as if she was unable to look him in the eye. A small, secret smile appeared on her lips at his words.
An emerald leaf fell from the tree, dancing in the air even though there was no wind here, in the in-between. When it fell onto his opened palm, he-
awoke.
Chapter Text
He awoke abruptly, feeling as if he was aglow from the inside. Where previously his Alpha power had been nearly depleted, now he was overflowing with energy, his soul burning bright as a beacon. He felt amazingly, gloriously alive, and even though he knew that it came at a price, he couldn't help but feel elated at the feeling.
"That was a risky stunt that you just pulled," he heard Deucalion's gruff voice. "You could've died."
He looked at the man who was still flushed with fever and sitting gingerly on the floor beside him, and he couldn't help but be grateful that he had one more chance to pay his debt to him.
"I very nearly did," Scott admitted, wiping the blood off his mouth and chin with a grimace. "And let me tell you, it's not an experience that I plan to repeat anytime soon."
He looked around and saw the twins observing his interaction with Deucalion with bemusement.
"Hi Aiden, Ethan," he greeted them with a smile.
"Aren't you angry with us?" Ethan asked him with shock evident on his face.
"Right now, I feel too good to be angry," he said honestly, the energy flowing through his veins, invigorating, making him feel alive. He turned to Deucalion and offered: "I can heal you now, if you'll let me."
The man frowned. "You just lost your consciousness and nearly died trying to do just that, how can you be so sure that it won't happen again?"
"I'm touched, it almost sounds as if you were worried for me," Scott teased, then added more seriously: "I know my limits now. Let me try again, please."
"Why are you so adamant about risking your life for me?" Deucalion pressed, not amused in the slightest. "No one does something like that without having ulterior motives."
Scott thought of Meredith's sacrifice, and felt humbled by how altruistic that deed was. She didn't know him, and back in the previous timeline she had been his enemy, once, when she had been responsible for starting the Deadpool. And yet, she gave her life for him, and he would be damned if he let that sacrifice go to waste.
"Maybe I just don't want to fight with you anymore," he said instead, and added: "I don't want to waste my life on hate and revenge, no matter how justified."
A myriad of emotions appeared on Deucalion's face for a split second. "You're wiser than I was, then," he said softly, then added so quietly that the words were barely audible: "Heal me, please."
Scott heard the plea hidden behind the simple words. It was a cry for help from someone who had lost all hope, someone who had been let down by others time and time again, and hidden his pain behind the walls so high that no one could reach him… But still Scott was going to try.
He placed his hands on the man's leg, cupping the broken knee with his palms, and let his newfound energy flow into the injury, healing and regenerating. This power, it was pure and light, a gift that he had been given and was now passing on to Deucalion in return. It was never his in the first place, and it wasn't his to keep, so he let it go willingly, without hesitation.
Slowly, the swelling disappeared, the broken bones mended themselves and a fresh, healthy looking skin started to cover them until there was no sign of injury left. Ignoring the twins' amazed gasps, Scott took a hold of Deucalion's arm, focusing on mending what was broken and causing the skin on the arm to patch itself as well.
"Incredible," Deucalion breathed out, inspecting his arm and leg with amazement.
But Scott wasn't finished yet. He was here to right all wrongs and there was one more hurt that needed healing. "Would you let me try to heal your eyes?" he asked Deucalion, causing him to inhale deeply in shock.
"You can't be serious," the man rasped.
"It would require me to pierce your eyes with my claws and heal them again," Scott explained. "I don't know if it will work and you’ll get your eyesight back, but…"
"If there’s even a smallest chance that it might work, I want you to try," Deucalion said, his voice determined, though Scott could feel his body shaking a bit.
Was he fearing the pain that he was going to experience shortly, or was he afraid of getting his hopes high, only to be let down again? But no matter the outcome, Scott wasn't going to let Deucalion go through it alone.
"Aiden, Ethan, would you grab one of his arms each and when I pierce his eyes, try to take some of his pain?" he asked.
"Can we even do that?" asked Aiden sceptically.
"Didn't your emissary show you that?" Scott asked, surprised. "It was Deaton who taught me how to absorb another's pain. You'd only take a part of it, but sometimes a little relief is enough."
"We'll do it," Aiden said decisively, Ethan nodding his assent eagerly, and they positioned themselves at their Alpha's side, Ethan at the left and Aiden at the right.
"I'm not afraid of the pain," Deucalion said, looking affronted at the mere suggestion.
"I'm not saying that you are," Scott countered gently. "But they’re your pack, helping one another is what packmates do for each other."
Judging by his grimace, Deucalion apparently didn't agree with that statement, but didn't protest any further.
Scott placed his hands on both sides of Deucalion's face, tracing the scarred skin around his eyes with his thumbs. Not wanting to stall any further, he extended his nails into claws and pushed them hard into the man's eye sockets, through the eyeballs and deep into the bone, trying to ignore Deucalion's pained gasps.
In the corner of his eyes he saw black lines appearing on the twins' forearms, and he was glad that they were able to absorb at least some of that pain. He retracted his claws and one last time reached deep into himself, gathering all the energy that he had still left, and pushed it all into Deucalion's eyes, wishing, praying, begging.
Heal, please heal.
He shuddered, feeling all the strength leaving him, and he immediately stopped pushing his energy into Deucalion, not wanting to exhaust himself for the second time in a row. He only wished that what he had been able to give would be enough to restore the man's eyesight.
Still holding Deucalion's face in his palms, he swiped the blood off the man's skin and encouraged him: "Try to open your eyes, now."
***
When the boy woke up after nearly ten minutes of being unconscious, Deucalion was able to feel a distinct change in him. Against all expectations, the near-death state that Scott had been in seemed to both calm and invigorate him, when it should have made him weak and exhausted. Where did the boy get this new boost of energy from? he wondered. It shouldn't be possible.
So when Scott offered to try to heal him once more, Deucalion was incredulous and not a little sceptical. The teen had just risked his life for him, and now he wanted to do it again? It was mind boggling, and it instantly made him suspicious. No one could be that altruistic, no matter how kind-hearted they were. Or could they?
But it was either that, or be crippled for the rest of his life, so he asked Scott to heal him once again. And this time, it was as if liquid heat flowed into his body, mending, patching, healing. He felt his broken bones rearranging, splinters snapping into place and skin regrowing itself, and the sensation was both uncomfortable and incredible.
The realization that he will be able to keep his body intact after all, avoiding the dreaded amputation… It would have brought him to his knees if he wasn't already sitting.
And if that wasn't enough, Scott offered to heal his eyes.
He was shocked into a disbelieving stupor for a long moment before he was able to speak. For so long he had believed that he would never be able to see again, not counting his wolf vision which, while helpful, couldn't match the human eyesight. If there was even the smallest, miniscule chance that it could work… he was ready to go through hell and back to take it.
Having his eyes pierced mercilessly by sharp claws was an awful experience, and for a moment he couldn't do anything but gasp in agony, when he felt Aiden's and Ethan's hands grasping his arms and absorbing some of the pain so that, while intense still, it wasn't so overwhelming anymore.
Feeling the hot waves of Scott's energy focusing in his eye sockets made him tremble from tentative hope. Please, let it work, he begged quietly. He yearned to be whole again, he wanted it so much that it almost hurt. At the same time, he remembered how not so long ago he had attempted to blind Scott with his own claws, and he couldn't help but think that he didn't deserve to see, that he was already too far gone to be redeemed.
When the heat of the healing subsided, he kept his eyes closed still, afraid to open them and see only darkness. Gentle fingers swiped his bloodied cheeks and he heard a gentle voice encouraging him to open his eyes.
Did he dare to? Could he handle the disappointment if this healing attempt turned out to be futile, after all?...
He swallowed with difficulty, his throat suddenly dry, and slowly opened his eyes.
A young man was looking at him with a small smile, his gaze warm and compassionate, and Deucalion couldn't help but think that he hadn't seen a more wonderful sight in his entire life.
Chapter Text
When Deucalion's pupils focused on his face, Scott couldn't help but smile at the man with joy. "It worked!" he said excitedly.
"It did," Deucalion confirmed appearing quite overwhelmed, and Scott felt his heart clenching in empathy. Regaining one's eyesight after years of being blind, while certainly wonderful, it couldn't be easy to process, after all.
Not wanting to make Deucalion feel crowded or uncomfortable, he took his hands away from the man's face and stood up. As if on cue, the twins helped their Alpha to get up, probably more out of a habit they'd formed the last a couple of days than a true need, as the man was now completely healed.
"I'm usually good with words but it seems that all my oratory skills have deserted me," Deucalion admitted, looking uncomfortable. "All I can say is that I'm grateful, you went above and beyond to help me even though you had no reason to."
Scott shook his head. "I had plenty of reasons, and not the least of it was that it was the right thing to do. Even though you may laugh at me for being young and naive, but this is the truth."
"No matter your motives, I'm in your debt now. Is there something that you want from me so that I can pay it off? An immunity for your pack perhaps, an assurance that we won't attack each other?" Deucalion offered.
Scott thought about it for a moment, considering the proposal. Immunity sounded great, but did he really want Deucalion to refrain from killing Scott's pack just because he felt indebted to him? It wasn't exactly a perfect solution. Ideally, he wanted the man to stop targeting other packs because it harmed their community, and because it was wrong, period.
"No, I want something different," Scott replied, and saw how Deucalion stiffened at his words.
"And that would be...?" the man asked, his apprehension almost palpable.
"It seems that our packs have reached some kind of a truce, so I want you to promise to tell me in advance if that is going to change," Scott requested.
"But… why did you reject the offer of the non-aggression between us, then?" Deucalion asked, confused.
"Because I still intend to oppose you if you target any other pack, not only mine," Scott said bluntly, and saw how Deucalion's eyes go round in surprise. "You see, I find your practice of decimating the werewolf community utterly despicable. Did you really think that I would just stand and watch if you targeted Satomi's pack, for example? I wouldn't, so I don't want to have my hands tied by any non-aggression agreement if I may not be able to keep it."
Deucalion asked with disbelief: "Don't you know that the packs are divided? No one cares about what happens to other werewolves."
"I care," Scott said simply. "If I need to smack every Alpha in the US on the head just to get it through their thick skulls that we're more vulnerable to external threats if we're divided, I will."
He was sick and tired of the packs rivaling between each other or treating other werewolves with cold disdain. If they wanted to survive the upcoming war with the humans, or even better, avoid it altogether, they needed to unite, damn it.
"I don't get you at all," Deucalion said finally, visibly frustrated at his inability to understand Scott's standpoint. "You're incredibly strong and yet you're more proud of your weaknesses, your idealism and naivety, rather than your power. Why?"
"You gained your strength by killing your Betas. I gain mine through caring about others, so I don't consider it my power, but something that I've been given," he explained before adding: "That aside, can you promise to be honest and transparent with me from now on? I don't want any more power games between us, no more attempts at manipulation. Do I have your word on that?"
"Yes, I swear: no more games," Deucalion promised.
"Thank you," Scott said sincerely. "I'll take my leave now." He had already spent too much time here, he needed to get back to Liam and his parents lest they start worrying about him.
"That's it?" Deucalion asked with disbelief and Scott looked at him questioningly. The man looked conflicted, then finally said: "No matter, it's nothing."
Scott gazed at the man thoughtfully, he clearly wanted to say something, but had stopped himself. Why was Deucalion holding back, though?
"Boys, would you mind leaving us alone for a moment?" he asked the twins who up until now kept their silence, apparently letting two pack leaders negotiate between themselves.
They looked at Deucalion questioningly and when he nodded, Aiden said: "We'll wait outside," and they left the room.
Scott looked at Deucalion and offered: "Whatever you want to say, just say it. I promise not to judge you, or think worse of you."
The man just sighed and rubbed his face tiredly, then shook his head. "No, it's nothing. I need to deal with this myself."
Scott frowned, and before he could stop himself, he placed his hand on the man's shoulder and rubbed it gently. "Are you sure? If I can help you with something, I will. As long as it's nothing nefarious, that is."
He was almost sure that Deucalion would shake off his hand, but the man only closed his eyes and said quietly: "I find myself… aimless, and confused. I need to redefine my goals, that's all, but it won't happen overnight."
"Of course," Scott nodded with understanding. "If you ever want to talk, you can send me a message or call me, I won't mind. Sometimes simply sharing your thoughts with someone helps to get them in order."
Deucalion opened his eyes and looked at him silently. Scott met his gaze with a calm self-confidence, not one to be intimidated or flustered by an eye to eye contact.
"Why?" the man asked finally, and he could have meant a ton of questions, but Scott decided to answer the most obvious one.
"Why do I want to keep in contact? I like your company, and talking with you is surprisingly enjoyable, which I didn't expect," he admitted honestly. "So you see, I didn't make that offer out of some kind of self-sacrificing attempt to make you feel better."
"You enjoy talking with me," the man deadpanned.
"I do," Scott confirmed. "But if you don't like my company, this is the perfect moment to say it. I'd rather take an honest rejection from you than an insincere befriend attempt."
Deucalion shook his head in bemusement. "You're the most confusing person I’ve met in a very long time, if ever, but you’re not unlikable," he finally said, looking pained at the admission.
"I'm pretty sure that was a compliment, or at least it didn't sound as an outright insult, so I'm going to take that as a 'yes, I'll keep in touch'," Scott teased the man, causing him to laugh in surprise.
"You're something else, and against my better judgement I'm starting to like you, Scott McCall," said Deucalion, and for the first time today his eyes weren't clouded with confusion, worry or apprehension. "Yes, I'll keep in touch."
"That's what I wanted to hear," Scott said happily. "Now, I really need to go, people are surely looking for me, if they haven't organized a search party already,” he joked, though that may turn out to be the truth, after all. He hadn’t precised how long he would be gone, but still, after the attack on Liam’s house everyone would probably be extra cautious and on guard than usual.
"If I were in your place, I would visit the bathroom first," Deucalion suggested delicately. "You still have some blood stains on your face from your earlier nosebleed."
Scott gaped at him. "And you couldn't have told me that earlier? Now I feel embarrassed about talking with you when looking like that."
"Scott, I'm covered in sweat, blood and pus from my wounds, so if I look as gross as I feel then it's truly disgustful," the man said bluntly. "Do you really think that I'd care for a couple of little specks of blood, especially the ones that you have from trying to heal me?"
Scott blushed and said: "No, I suppose you wouldn't. Thanks," he added as he went to the bathroom to make himself more presentable.
As he was scrubbing his face, he couldn't help but think that he didn't find Deucalion disgusting, not even in the state that he was currently in, and wasn't that a weird thought?
***
When Scott left, Deucalion told the twins to start arranging his discharge from the hospital while he refreshed himself. During the shower he let the hot, almost scalding water wash away all the sweat, blood and dirt, but also his pain, fear and powerlessness of the last few days. The realization that this horror was finally over made him slightly weak in the knees, but he braced himself against the bathroom wall until the weakness subsided.
And he could see again! It was a true miracle, the kind of which he had stopped believing in ages ago. He looked down at his body, marvelling at the sight of his muscled chest and abdomen, the trail of hair, sparse just beneath his navel, getting more thick on the groin, and finally his arms and legs, strong and healthy as if they were never broken. He felt almost drunk with the giddiness of seeing himself and seeing the world around him once more. He was finally whole, and he owed that to one person only.
He knew that Scott had only requested ceasing the power games and manipulations as a price for healing him, but Deucalion couldn't help but feel that it couldn't erase the debt that he owed to that wonderful, infuriating teen. He didn't know how the boy did all that, pushing the boundaries of the werewolves' powers and making impossible possible time and time again. Scott had already proved to be able to tap into the telluric currents, transfer Alpha powers, and also managed to heal years old injuries which had been deemed incurable by the druids.
And yet, Deucalion had a feeling that it was only a tip of the iceberg that made Scott the most powerful werewolf he had ever met in his entire life, himself included. Adding to that the boy's inherent kindness, willingness to help, and his habit of being impossibly affectionate with the people around him... Was it any wonder that Deucalion was falling for him, hard?
He knew that he could never act on his feelings, though, as he was too old for the teen, and much too bitter and jaded for someone so good and kind. And yet, in the solitude of his own mind he couldn't help but wonder. If Scott met younger Deucalion, the one from before Gerard's attack, would he find him likable? Would he see him as a man worth his attention?...
He knew that these thoughts were futile and only made the reality even more miserable, but he was only a man, and each man needed something to dream of.
Chapter 71
Notes:
Scott's POV plus some much needed pack bonding!
Chapter Text
Scott was on his way back to Liam and his parents, when he heard his name being called. He turned around just in time to see Peter and Derek walking out of the elevator, their faces worried and grave.
"Scott, what happened?" Peter asked with a frown.
"Are you alright?" Derek added.
Scott looked at them and felt incredibly lucky that he got another chance to see them. As the realization that he had been so very close to dying finally started to sink in, he threw his arms around them, pulling them both into a tight, desperate hug.
"I love you both so much," he murmured.
"We love you too," Derek said quietly. "But why didn't you reply to our phone calls?"
"I always put it my phone on silent mode when I'm in the hospital, and with everything that happened, I didn't have the chance to check it," Scott explained. "I'm really sorry that I worried you."
Peter sniffed the air around him and asked: "Why are you smelling of blood?"
Scott finally released his hold on them and said: "I- it's a very, very long story, and not one I'm comfortable telling here, but I'm alright now, I swear. But how did you know that something was amiss?"
"We felt an intense pain from you, just like the last time, but then for ten to fifteen minutes there was nothing, a complete blankness," Derek explained. "I couldn't even track you through our bond, the connection was so faint it was almost nonexistent."
"I couldn't sense anything from you during that time, it was as if my bond with you ceased to exist. For a moment I have feared the worst," Peter admitted, his face turning ashen at the memory. "But I called Derek and he was able to feel you, but just barely."
Scott blanched, realizing how hard it must have been for them. Not knowing what was happening to him, if he was dead or hurt, or in danger… It must have been awful.
"I'm so very sorry," Scott said, contrite. "I recklessly pushed myself too far and I lost consciousness, maybe that's why you couldn't sense me. I won't do it again, I swear," he promised.
Peter frowned but didn't say anything, while Derek pulled Scott into yet another hug, inhaling his scent deeply.
Suddenly, they heard a young voice: "Scott! Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't want to interrupt anything."
Scott took a step back and looked around. "You're not interrupting anything, Liam, these are my packmates, Derek and his uncle Peter."
Liam's eyes went huge as he realized that he stood in front of not one, but three werewolves. "Packmates? Wow! Hi, I'm Liam, I'm Scott's-" he trailed off, not knowing how to call their relationship.
"He's my pup," Scott said with pride, smiling widely.
"Pup?!" Liam's face turned bright red at the nickname.
Scott couldn't help it, the boy was so adorable that he circled Liam's shoulders with his arm and kissed the top of his head. "Yup, I'm an Alpha wolf and you're my pup. Unless you don't want to be called that?"
Liam ducked his head in embarrassment and mumbled: "... I do, just not in front of Mason, please? He'd never let me live it down."
"Not in front of Mason, noted," Scott confirmed with a wink.
"So, I get that the pup knows about us," Peter said, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "How did that happen, anyway?"
Scott sighed and explained: "Long story short, Liam and his parents were attacked and I helped them, but not before Liam's stepdad was hurt. The wound was serious enough that I couldn't just watch and do nothing, so I revealed my supernatural status to them and healed the wound. Speaking of which, how are your parents doing, Liam?"
"Actually, that's why I was looking for you, they're feeling better and they wanted to catch you before leaving," the boy said, looking sheepish about getting distracted so easily.
"Alright, let’s go then," Scott agreed easily.
"We're coming with you," Derek said, and Peter added: "We're not letting you out of our sight until you're safe at home."
"Hey, I'm an Alpha, I don't need an escort," Scott grumbled half-heartedly, but he was genuinely glad for their presence, so he sent a quick impulse of love and gratefulness through their bond. Judging by the way their shoulders relaxed, they appreciated the gesture.
"So, how does it feel, being bitten and turned into- you know?" Liam asked curiously as he led them down the hall.
"We wouldn't know, we were born that way," said Derek stoically.
"Really? That's so cool!"
Scott rolled his eyes at his pup and said: "We'll talk about the bite later, with your parents present, so don't get too excited."
Liam pouted cutely and Scott almost cooed at him before he reminded himself that he needed to be stern about this, and he refrained from showing the boy how much his puppy eyes affected him.
***
The meeting went surprisingly smoothly, with David finding a quick rapport with Derek, their calm, stoic personalities matching each other quite well, while Peter, ever the charmer, managed to get into Jenna's good graces with his chivalrous act.
They all chatted for a couple of minutes, before Scott asked: "What are your plans now, do you wish to stay at the hospital for the night?"
David frowned. "I'd rather avoid that, to be honest, but with everything that happened, I'm not that keen on going back to our house either," he admitted. "I was thinking about finding a room in some hotel and deciding what to do next tomorrow in the morning."
Scott nodded, going back to the house where they had been attacked might trigger unpleasant memories, so David's reluctance about returning there was completely understandable.
"Why don't you stay in my loft?" Derek offered suddenly. "I can always bunk up with Peter, his apartment is even bigger than mine."
Scott looked at him in surprise as not that long ago Derek wouldn't open his house to strangers so easily, much less come up with the offer himself. However, it seemed that he had matured a lot during the last a couple of weeks, and Scott was proud of the man his packmate had become.
"We couldn't impose on you like that," Jenna protested.
"It's no bother, and it wouldn't be the first time I stayed at Peter's," Derek said easily and Peter nodded his assent.
Scott added with a small smile: "I helped decorating and furnishing Derek's loft, so at least you'll have a chance to admire our joint effort."
Liam's parents looked at each other, communicating with each other nonverbally, and for a moment Scott envied them such closeness that could only grow from a years-long relationship.
"If you're sure that it won't be a problem for you, we'll take you up on that offer," David said finally.
"Thank you very much, we appreciate it," Jenna added heartfeltly.
"You're Scott's friends, and that makes you ours as well. That's how the pack works," Derek said with a shrug, obviously not used to being the center of attention.
"You're all really close to each other, is that right?" Jenna asked curiously.
"We're like family," Scott confirmed, looking at his packmates with a fond smile.
David helped Jenna to put on her coat before grabbing his own jacket. "Liam, are you ready to leave?" seeing the boy's nod, he said: "Alright, let's go then."
They left the room and went to the elevator. As they reached the reception, Scott saw his mom going in their direction with flushed cheeks and disheveled hair.
"Uff, today's been a nightmare, I only just managed to take a break," she complained, swiping her forehead with her hand. "How are you all doing?"
"We're fine, Melissa, don't worry. Derek kindly offered to let us stay in his loft for the night," David replied. "We don't feel like coming back to our house just yet."
"That's understandable," she said with a nod. "Scott, when will you be back at home?"
"I don't know yet," the teen confessed. "However, Peter already said that he won't let me out of his sight until I'm safe at home, so please don't worry about me."
"I knew that I liked you for a reason," Melissa said to Peter approvingly.
Scott sighed exasperatedly, having both his packmates AND his mom overprotective of him wasn't going to end well, he just knew that.
"See you later, mom," he waved at her and headed to exit.
***
David and Jenna decided to ride together with Liam in Derek's car, so Scott went with Peter to his. The man started to drive in silence and Scott was instantly worried.
"Hey, everything’s alright?" he asked, looking at his packmate with concern. Peter hesitated, so Scott put a hand on his arm and added: "You can tell me absolutely everything, you know that, right?"
The man pressed his lips into a thin line, conflicted, before sighing and asking: "Do you prefer Derek to me?"
"What? Where did you get this idea from?" Scott asked, surprised by the question, and started to wonder if he had neglected Peter without realizing it.
"He was your Beta first and you've known him longer. Also, he didn't try to attack you as I did," Peter listed, then added quietly: "So when I couldn't feel anything from our link and Derek could, I felt as if…" he fell silent, not finishing the sentence.
"As if our bond was less important to me?" Scott asked, his heart clenching painfully at the thought that Peter doubted his worth. "As if I loved you less than him?"
The man didn't reply, just nodded curtly, his eyes fixed on the road.
"Peter, you’re both equally important to me," Scott said softly. "I have my suspicions as to why Derek was able to sense me even when I was unconscious and you didn't, but it won't make any sense to you until you hear the whole story of what happened to me today. But please believe me that it had nothing to do with our bond being deficient in any way, or with me having favourites."
When Peter didn't reply and continued to ride in silence, Scott murmured: "If you weren’t driving at the moment, I would flood our link with my feelings to you to the point that you wouldn't be aware of anything else, if this is what you need to believe me.”
At his words, Peter’s shoulders finally relaxed. “Maybe let’s wait with that until you’re not endangering us,” he commended wryly. “We don’t want to crash into anything, after all.”
Scott smiled at him. “Fine, but a fair warning, the moment we’re back at home I’m going to smother you with affection, so be prepared for that.”
“Promises, promises,” Peter taunted, and Scott smacked him on the arm, driver or not.
Chapter Text
Derek's loft was everything that Liam's house wasn't - and somehow it made it all the more interesting. The spacious living room, the huge windows, the industrial style, none of it felt even vaguely familiar and considering what had happened today, Liam couldn't help but be glad for it. For years he had considered their house a safe haven, but now he dreaded the thought that the men who had attacked them might have cronies willing to finish the deed.
His attention snapped back to reality as he heard his parents saying a round of thankyous and goodbyes to the three werewolves and he realized that Scott wasn't staying with them. Somehow, up until now he hadn't connected the dots that the older teen had his own home to come back to and just because he had saved Liam and his parents, it didn't mean that he would stay with them indefinitely.
But Liam didn't want to part with his- Alpha, that was the word which Scott had used earlier. Yes, Liam wanted to stay with his Alpha, but he didn't have the courage to ask him to stay.
Somehow, Scott sensed his emotional turmoil as he came closer, asking quietly: "Are you alright?"
He wasn't, not really, since only in Scott's presence he felt safe enough to relax and the thought of him leaving them was a daunting one. But since he would hate to be a burden to the older teen, he nodded with a confidence which he didn't feel.
"No, you're not," Scott murmured, circling him with his arm and pulling him closer.
Liam melted into the embrace with a sigh and hid his face in Scott’s chest, strangely happy that the teen saw through his act so easily. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I don't want you to think that I'm childish or needy…"
"After today you're entitled to be as clingy and needy as you wish," Scott assured him warmly. "But Liam… I can't stay, my mom expects me at home, and she deserves to hear what happened."
Liam frowned unhappily. "I know. I'll miss you, though."
"You can text or call me anytime you want," Scott assured him and hugged him tightly one last time before leaving.
Once they were alone, his parents tried to console him as best they could, and Liam didn't want them to think that their presence wasn't enough for him so he put on a brave face and pretended that he was alright. After everything they had gone through, he didn't want to add to their worries. He couldn't help but wish that he could have both Scott and his parents beside him, though.
***
Scott saw Derek's and Peter's inquisitive glances sent his way as they left the loft and sighed. "Go on, out with it," he allowed.
"So, a pup? Aren't you a little too young to have a kid?" Peter asked, wiggling his eyebrows.
"He was my first bitten Beta in my previous life," Scott admitted quietly.
"Oh," murmured Peter. "That would explain it."
"Yeah," said Scott. "I’ve spent years caring for him, watching him grow…"
He trailed off, remembering how seeing Liam's tortured, mutilated body had pushed him over the edge and into a killing spree until he finally killed all the culprits responsible for his capture and death. Dozens of hunters and their sympathizers had been killed by his hand during those long, awful weeks, and he had yet to feel any regret over it. Liam was his child in everything but blood, and while killing the guilty hadn't brought him any relief, it wasn't relief that he was after, but a sense of... fulfillment.
They had taken Liam's life and he took theirs as a payment, that’s all there was to it.
"What happened to him?" Derek asked.
"Death happened," Scott replied curtly, "and not an easy one, either. It was the only time when I broke my resolve of not pursuing revenge and to be honest, I don't regret any of it."
His face must have been grim enough for his packmates to flinch.
"I'm sorry that I asked, that was insensitive of me," Derek said apologetically, putting a hand on his shoulder for a moment. "It's just that... You seem so happy and carefree most of the time, it's easy to forget the things that you went through."
"It's okay, I've had my chance to grieve," Scott shrugged off his apologies.
"Have you really?" asked Peter, watching him keenly.
"More or less," Scott answered noncommittally, then added: "Living for the second time, it gives me purpose, and that suits me better than wallowing in sorrow."
Derek nodded with understanding, it was a sentiment that he could wholeheartedly agree with. "Still, if you need anything…"
"I know that I have you both," Scott assured them. "You and Peter, you're my lifeline. I couldn't do this without you guys."
In response, he was once again pulled into a group hug, but he was far from complaining.
***
At home, he was greeted by Isaac's swat on the arm.
"Why aren't you replying to my calls?" the teen asked, visibly furious.
Scott facepalmed himself, he forgot about his phone, again. "I'm so sorry, I was at the hospital and I forgot to put it off the silent mode."
"That's a shitty excuse," Isaac frowned.
"True, though," Scott said sheepishly. "I'm a prat, I freely and honestly admit it. I'm sorry that I worried you."
That didn't seem to appease Isaac, not even a little bit.
"To Scott's defense, he really had a lot on his mind," Peter came to his rescue, entering the house with Derek in tow.
"If you say so…" Isaac relented a bit before remembering his manners. "Um, hello. I'm sorry, I didn't know that you were going to visit," he said with confusion.
Peter patted him on the arm and said wryly: "When you have werewolves in the family, you need to start expecting the unexpected."
"I'm starting to see that," Isaac said with a long-suffering sigh. "Do you want something to drink? I would offer alcohol since you look like you could use some, but I heard that it doesn't work on the werewolves, so…"
"Just Coke for me, please," Peter said, taking off his jacket. "What about you, Derek?"
"Same," his nephew said gruffly, visibly taken off guard by Peter having so good rapport with Isaac. "Do you two know each other well?"
"When they met, Isaac threatened Peter with a steak knife and their friendship grew beautifully from there," Scott said in a stage whisper, causing Peter to chuckle and Isaac to redden at the reminder.
Meanwhile, Derek only nodded as if it were normal circumstances. "Uncle does have such an effect on people," he said with a shrug.
"I resent that suggestion," Peter huffed with a mock hurt.
"Come on, Isaac, let's grab that Coke, I'll go and help you," Scott said, rolling his eyes at his packmates.
As they went to the kitchen, he realized that by offering drinks to their guests, Isaac basically acted as a host. The realization made Scott insanely happy, because it meant that the boy truly felt at home here, and not simply living in their house as it had been at first.
***
Shortly after that his mom came back from her shift at the hospital. Once they all settled down in the living room, Scott told them about the events that took place in Liam's house. His mom blanched at hearing that he took down three grown up men, one of them being armed with a knife.
"Mom, they were simple thugs, they would be no match for any werewolf, much less an Alpha," he tried to calm her down. "Healing dr Geyer was much more demanding than taking them down."
"Was it why you lost consciousness?" Derek asked curiously.
Scott grimaced. "Not exactly…"
"What? Why didn't you tell me about that when you arrived at the hospital?" his mom asked.
Scott bit his lips, indecisive. "Because dr Geyer wasn't the last person that I healed today," he admitted finally, then asked the question that was bothering him for quite a while now: "Mom, why didn't you tell me that Deucalion was admitted to the hospital?"
Everyone around him made noises of surprise, but he had his eyes fixed on his mom only. She stiffened, her mouth opening slightly in shock before she got a grip on herself.
"Did he send his lackeys to beg you to heal him?" she asked with derision.
"No, he didn't, I caught his scent and found him injured and fevered. Mom, he could've lost his arm and leg if I didn't heal him!"
"And I would say, good riddance!" she snapped. "He kidnapped three teenagers, he attacked you, he blinded you. What was I supposed to do, just forgive and forget, no harm done?"
"You wanted revenge, I get it, but it wasn't your decision to make, it was mine. How do you think I would feel if he lost his limbs? I would be devastated, and I would carry that guilt for the rest of my life," he said, his voice breaking.
"But he's a monster, why would you feel guilty?" Melissa asked with incomprehension.
"Oh mom," Scott breathed. "Don't do this, don't call anyone a monster, I've been called that enough times to know how it hurts," he said sadly. "Yes, Deucalion did a lot of awful things, but he's not evil, and he doesn’t deserve to be crippled for life."
She fell silent, clenching her jaw stubbornly.
"Wait, you healed that awful, monstrous werewolf who kidnapped me, Lydia and Jackson?" Isaac asked, sounding hurt. "Why?"
Scott looked at him and said gently: "Partly because I was the reason why he wasn't healing. But also partly because this is what I do, I help people."
"Even the bad guys?" Isaac asked challengingly.
"Even them, if there's a slightest chance that they can be redeemed," Scott confirmed.
"I can't- I can't listen to this anymore." Isaac ran upstairs to his room.
Scott hid his face in his hands. He knew that his actions had hurt Isaac, but he didn't regret healing Deucalion, so he couldn't in all honesty tell Isaac that he was sorry.
After a moment, he felt that someone sat beside him on the sofa and circled his shoulders with his arm. He didn't have to look up to know that it was Derek, his comforting scent and calming presence soothing him instantly.
"Give him time, forgiveness is very rarely easy," Derek said gently. "I would know, you forgave Peter long before I was even able to think of him without feeling angry."
Scott nodded, then rubbed his eyes with his hands tiredly. It wasn’t that he was some kind of a saint. It’s just that throughout the years, he had found friends in most unexpected places, and people he had once considered his enemies were often the ones that stuck with him until the end. Because of that, forgiveness came easier to him than to most, he reckoned.
Finally, he calmed down enough to continue his story. "When I saw the bad state that Deucalion was in, I had to try to help him. But after having healed dr Geyer, I had almost no strength left in me, so I reached out deeper… into my life energy."
Peter shook his head. "No, you couldn't have, if you did, you would have been dead already," he argued.
"I very nearly did," Scott confessed quietly. “I gave too much of myself and I came very close to dying-”
Everyone looked stricken at his admission, and within a second he was engulfed in a desperate hug from both sides, Peter joining him and Derek on the sofa and almost squeezing the breath out of him.
“How could you have been so reckless? Don’t you know how devastated we would be if we have lost you?” Peter asked, his voice shaken.
“I know, I’m sorry, I won’t do this again, I promise,” Scott mumbled into Peter’s chest, while Derek embraced him from behind, kissing the back of his neck chastely and Scott’s eyes prickled with tears. “I made a mistake, I know that now, and I’m really, really sorry,” he whispered, contrite.
He heard a movement and he looked up, seeing his mother retreating hurriedly to the kitchen, her shoulders shaking. He untangled himself from his packmates’ arms and went after her.
She was just standing there, hugging herself with her arms, but he couldn’t see her face as she stood with her back to him.
“Mom? Are you alright?” he asked her quietly.
She shook her head silently, her whole body shaking. He walked up to her and placed his hands on her shoulders, rubbing them gently.
“I know that I’ve worried you, but I know my limits now and I’ll be more careful in the future,” he promised.
“It’s not only that…” she finally said. “Scott, you're a sixteen year old boy. You’re not supposed to save anyone, not dr Geyer and his family, and certainly not someone who have wronged you. I’m your mother, I can’t just- watch as you endanger yourself like that.”
“I’m more than a boy now, mom, and the only thing that you can do now is to accept it,” he said to her, kindly but sternly. “This, me being a werewolf, having a pack of my own, it’s not something temporary that would just go away. This is my life now, for better and for worse. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Why?...” she asked brokenly.
“Because deep down, this is who I really am,” he said honestly. “So if you love me, please don’t try to hold me back, but try to help me instead.”
She turned around to look at him. There were no tears on her face that he could see, but her eyes were red-rimmed, and there were wrinkles around her mouth that were usually only visible when she was upset.
“You have your pack now, what do you need me for?” she asked bitterly.
“I need my mom, and no matter how close I am to others, they can never replace you,” he said simply and embraced her, noting with worry how frail she seemed in his arms, and how she clinged to him.
Even though she'd said that it was not his task to protect everyone, he still swore to himself to take better care of her from now on.
Chapter 73
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Having a werewolf for a son was not something that she could have ever envisioned or predicted. For years her life, though quite bleak, had been utterly banal: a single mother struggling to provide for her child, working double and weekend shifts just to give them both a moderately normal life. The worst of her worries had been trying to make a living and ensuring that Scott grew up to be a responsible adult without any major bumps on the road.
Him battling other werewolves, healing lethal injuries and saving everyone else while neglecting his own safety had never been part of the deal… until now. Which made her feel like she'd lost her footing somewhere along the way and was desperately grasping at the last remains of control that she still had over their lives.
However, seeing how hurt and disappointed Scott was in her made her questioning her recent actions. Her anger at Deucalion felt so justified, so righteous, but was it really? She didn't know. Somehow, the moral compass that had always made her instinctively know the right from wrong wasn't of any help anymore and she was no longer sure of anything.
Though maybe that wasn't quite true, she thought as she was engulfed in Scott’s strong arms. She still had her precious boy, even though he wasn't much of a boy anymore, but a young man who had grown up without her noticing and assumed his responsibilities much too early to her liking. But it was the truth and she couldn't keep pretending otherwise.
She put her hands on his shoulders and looked him in the eye. "I may not agree with all of your choices and you may not agree with mine, but I want you to know that I'm so very proud of you."
"Oh mom, that means the world to me," he exhaled with relief. "And instead of arguing, I'd rather we just talked, you know? I wish I could tell you more about what is happening in my life without fearing that you would flip out or snap at me."
Hearing that she instantly felt ashamed. Had she really been behaving so abysmally that Scott felt that he could no longer come to her with his problems?
"No more snapping from now on," she promised.
"Pinky swear?" he asked with a crooked smile.
She huffed a surprised laugh. "Pinky swear," she confirmed, locking her pinky with his. As far as vows went, it might seem quite silly, but it didn't make it any less honest.
“Are you ready to go back?” he asked. “There’s still a lot that I need to tell you about.”
"There's more?" she asked, surprised.
A shadow passed over his face, then his expression smoothed over as he shrugged. "It's me we're talking about, of course there's more."
***
When they returned to the living room, Scott couldn’t help but feel glad that he managed to mend bridges with his mom. The whole world could turn against him and he couldn't give a damn, as long as he had his family and pack beside him. And his mom… She had been there for him during all those years after his father had ditched them, and he would forever be grateful for her care and support.
"You said that there’s more to your tale?" she asked as they settled down on the sofa. "What could have possibly happened beside what you've already told us?"
Scott's eyes glazed over for a moment as he was reminiscing the time spent in the in-between. "It will be very hard to believe, so can you all promise me to try to be open minded and not interrupt me until I'm finished?" he asked cautiously and they all nodded.
Taking a deep breath, he told them about the thick, cold darkness that had surrounded him after he'd lost his consciousness, how tempting laying down his burdens was and how close he'd been to giving up. During his tale, his mom had tears in her eyes, Derek's face turned paper white, while Peter clenched his fists so hard that Scott was afraid he would hurt himself. He took Peter's hands in his and caressed them until they unclenched and even then he kept holding them gently.
He then spoke of thinking about all the people that he loved and how he couldn't let them all down, which gave him the strength to walk out of the darkness. He told them about the Nemeton, about meeting the strange girl who was partly Meredith but partly something else, something more, a strange and powerful entity who had offered to sever all the ties that bound him to the mortal realm, and how he'd asked her to help him go back to the living instead.
And finally, he revealed that in order to do that, Meredith had to give her life for him.
"If it wasn’t for her, if she didn't sacrifice herself, I wouldn't be alive now," he said through his suddenly clenched throat. "That's why I told you that I won't recklessly endanger myself anymore, I don't want anyone else to die because of me..."
He trailed off, trying to blink his tears away.
"Honey, you can cry if you want to," his mom murmured, petting his hair softly and he very nearly weeped, her touch was so gentle and loving, but he managed to control himself.
"I don't want to cry if there's even a slightest chance that she might be alive still, so I want to go to the Eichen House and ask to visit Meredith," he revealed. "I need to know if it was all real and not just a very vivid dream that I had when I was being unconscious."
He very much doubted that, as he'd felt an incredible surge of power once he'd woken up, and that kind of energy just doesn't appear out of nowhere. Still, he had to check, he needed to know for sure.
"We'll go there together first thing in the morning," his mom said decisively. "You might be an Alpha among werewolves, but for the rest of the world you're still a minor, so you'll need to have an adult with you if you wish to check on her."
He looked at her with sudden appreciation. He'd always known that she was incredible, but this just proved how much.
"Thanks, mom, I appreciate it," he said heartfully.
She smiled at him, then she got up from the sofa and swayed a bit. When he jumped up to help her, she batted his hands away gently. "I'm alright, it's been a long, difficult day," she explained. "I'll just go grab something to eat and drink to get some of the energy back."
He almost smacked himself, how could he have neglected to take care of her when she had gotten back from work? "Do you want me to help you? I could whip something up real quick," he offered.
"No need, I'll be back with you in a moment," she assured him.
"Sure,” Scott agreed easily, “take as much time as you need."
He watched her as she went to the kitchen, then he turned to Derek and Peter, and hesitated for a split second. Thankfully, Derek seemed to know immediately what he needed, and he wrapped his arms around him.
"We're not angry with you," he murmured, caressing Scott's back gently. "Just please, could you be more careful from now on?"
"I will," Scott promised, inhaling his scent deeply and basking in the comforting presence of his packmate.
He felt the movement beside him as Peter stood up from the sofa, so he turned around to look at him. Peter looked strangely pained, and Scott grabbed his hand and pulled him back.
"Okay, guys, this needs to be said loud and clear. You're both equally important to me, and I wouldn't ever be able to choose one over another," he said sternly but kindly. "So please, don't feel like you have to compete with each other, alright?"
Derek nodded, while Peter asked: "If that's the case, why only Derek was able to sense you while you were unconscious? You've said that you had a theory about that."
"Meredith or whoever that being was, commented that my pack's mark is a powerful symbol, that was why it was visible in the in-between. I think it was the reason why Derek was still able to feel the bond between us and you didn't," Scott explained.
Peter looked at his hands carefully, avoiding his eyes. "Would you mind if I..." he trailed off, uncertain, and Scott hated to see him like that
"I'd be happy if you decided to bear my mark," he assured him. "It's your decision of course, but you have nothing but my enthusiastic approval if you decide to go for it. In fact, I know of a method to make a permanent tattoo without resorting to burning it into your skin," he revealed.
"You do?" Peter perked up instantly.
"Yup," Scott said with satisfaction. "You just need to mix ink with mountain ash, at least that's what Deaton told me when I pestered him about it."
Peter looked as if he wanted to facepalm himself but was too dignified to actually do it. Instead, he said: "It's quite logical once you think about it, mountain ash creates a barrier which once mixed with the ink, would nullify the accelerated healing, and thus allow the tattoo to form. Why haven't I thought about that?" he asked, exasperated with himself.
Scott smiled indulgently at him. "Don't worry, even being as knowledgeable as you are, you can't know everything, especially information that is mostly privy to the druids," he patted his hand consolingly. "So, will you think about bearing my pack's symbol?"
"I don't need to think about it, I want it," Peter said with surety.
Scott beamed at him in response and let his joy flow freely through their link for a moment. Maybe it wasn’t exactly the flood of affection that he had promised Peter in the car, but he wanted to wait with that until they were alone so that they wouldn’t have to hold back with showing their emotions.
Still, even that small bit of joy that he sent through their bond caused Peter to relax, the wrinkles on his forehead and around his eyes momentarily disappearing, and he looked happier than he had the whole day.
***
Once Melissa grabbed a toast and smeared it with a generous amount of strawberry jam, she slumped onto a bar stool and sighed heavily. This was one of these days when life seemed determined to suck all of the strength out of her. For a moment she longed to have a stiff drink or two just to ease her mind, but she quickly dismissed the thought. Ever since her ex-husband's alcohol addiction had led to Scott being hurt, she swore off alcohol, and she wasn't about to break her resolve now.
Thinking about Rafael reminded her how miserable she had been feeling as a woman for quite some time now. Focusing all her energy on providing for her son left almost no room for taking care of herself, and she started to regret that now. She wasn't the youngest, and with each passing year her chances of finding a romantic partner grew smaller and smaller, she was painfully aware of that.
And yet, she must still be attractive enough to catch Peter's eye, if his flirting was any indication. She felt her cheeks redden a bit at the mere thought of the handsome werewolf. She liked being the center of his attention, she enjoyed their flirtatious banter, the suggestive looks, the way his eyes followed her with an obvious interest. And yet, nothing had come out of that yet, and she wasn't sure why. Peter seemed interested enough, that was quite obvious. So why haven't they been on any date, yet?
She frowned deeply in thought as she finished her toast. Did she want to start anything serious with a man who was so very close to her son? Their bond was so deep and intense that the very thought of competing with it was nothing short of intimidating. The way Peter's eyes gentled when gazing at Scott… Even witnessing it made her feel like a voyeur, like she was intruding on something intimate, even though she was now quite certain that there was nothing sexual going on between them.
Speaking of the devil… Apparently she had been staying in the kitchen alone for too long, as Peter knocked at the door frame and came inside.
"Scott didn't want to bother you but I thought I'd see if everything is alright," the man said, sitting down on a bar stool beside her, and she couldn't help but be impressed how graceful all of his movements were. She always felt silly sitting down on those high stockers, as if she was about to knock them over with her weight, but Peter made it look like the easiest thing in the world.
"You did something that Scott didn't agree with?" she asked, honestly surprised.
"Not that he disapproved, he simply wanted to give you some space, but yes, it was my decision to come and see you," Peter clarified, then asked: "Why, did you think me incapable of making my own decisions?"
"Well, you seem to be accepting his lead so easily… Which, by the way, still weirds me out," she commented.
He frowned slightly. "Is that the reason why you're reluctant to go out with me, after all? Do you find my relationship with Scott off-putting?"
She saw the hurt that flickered in his eyes for a second, and she didn't like the sight of it. "Not off-putting, but a bit daunting. It also makes me envious of your bond which I won’t ever be a part of," she confessed honestly. "I'm not a werewolf, I won't be able to create such a link with you. Which makes me think, why won't you find a nice she-wolf to be with, instead of settling for a human woman?"
Peter grimaced. "I'm not settling for anything, you make it sound as if you were less valuable, which isn't true," he said, then seemed to make some kind of decision and took her hand in his, which caused her heartbeat to quicken. "It seems that I failed to communicate my interest adequately. I find you incredibly attractive, both in body and mind. You're dedicated and strong willed, and you've created a wonderful home for your son. I wish to date you for real, but only if this is something that you wish as well. If not, I won't mention it again."
Melissa took a shaky breath. This was it. This was the moment when she had to decide if she wanted to pursue a relationship with this man - werewolf - and open herself to another heartbreak. She wasn't going to fool herself that she may date him without getting emotionally involved, she wasn't that kind of a person. She loved as intensely and passionately as she hated, so remaining indifferent was never an option for her.
So the question was: was she ready to start dating again? Judging by the way she felt flustered and excited at the mere touch of Peter's hand, there was only one response that she could give him.
"Yes, I'd like that."
And if her heart skipped a beat with joy as she said it, no one needed to know.
Notes:
Yup, they're finally, officially dating! Yay!
I hope you liked this chapter, so feel free to let me know your thoughts.
Next: we'll switch to Deucalion's POV and see how the Alpha pack is doing.
Chapter 74
Notes:
Warnings for this chapter (not regarding major characters): short but explicit sex scene, violent sex, attempted murder, character death.
Yes, this is not an easy or pleasant chapter, so proceed with caution if anything in here triggers you.
Chapter Text
Ennis licked his lips nervously. He had just finished talking with Aiden over the phone and realized that his time was running out. Oh, the twins were overjoyed with the fact that Deucalion was healed, but they had always been too soft and too dependent on their leader. Only Ennis had the guts to acknowledge the chance that had presented itself when Deucalion's had been wounded. But now, the time was out.
If only Ennis hadn't waited so long, if only he hadn't listened to Kali's doubts and fears… He'd had a chance to get rid of the Demon Wolf and claim his power for himself, but it was too late now. And since his position within the pack was uncertain at best, being a Beta among all the Alphas, he knew that it was only a matter of time before he was killed, or worse, kicked out of the pack. Not that he would mind if he was actually cast out, but the indignity of it… It would mean that Deucalion didn't consider him a threat and that would be an insult worse than being defeated in a fight.
But he won't lay down his arms yet, no, he won't let him win so easily. He needed to become an Alpha again, quickly, before Deucalion was back from the hospital. Only then he could fight him as an equal.
For a moment he felt a faint touch of sadness because of what he needed to do, but he batted the feeling away as if it was an irritating fly. Emotions were for the weak, it was power that truly mattered. This was the lesson that Deucalion had taught them, and Ennis was going to prove once and for all that he was his best student, one that could actually surpass his teacher.
***
After signing all the forms required to be discharged from the hospital, they left the building and Deucalion exhaled in relief.
Pretending before the nurses to be incapacitated and blind still had been grating, but a necessary evil since he didn't want to draw anyone's attention to his miracoulous healing. However, once he'd mentioned his excuse that he didn't have medical insurance and couldn't afford another day at the hospital, the receptionist quickly lost interest and just gave him the forms to sign. For once he was glad for the harsh reality of healthcare in the US as it made his discharge smooth and quick.
Once he walked out of the hospital, he couldn't help himself, he took off his sunglasses and looked around with a sense of wonder. Not only was he healed, but also for the first time in eight years he could actually see the world around him, colours, shapes, everything.
It was as wonderful as it was overwhelming.
He let the twins lead the way to the car, but once they got there, he ordered: "Ethan, go sit in the back," and claimed the front passenger seat for himself.
"What happens now?" Aiden asked as he started to drive.
"I'm going to show Ennis and Kali that planning my murder is not going to end well for them. I can't wait to see their faces once they see me with my limbs intact," Deucalion smirked.
"They planned to do what?" asked Aiden, shocked.
Ethan blanched as he turned to Deucalion: "Actually, they won't be surprised... When you were talking with Scott and Aiden went to the reception, I called Ennis and told him that you're feeling better and we're going back to the apartment," he confessed, then added in a small voice: "I'm sorry."
Deucalion gritted his teeth and gripped his cane hard, breaking it in half in a sudden burst of anger. He breathed harshly for a moment, trying to contain his rage. Once he managed to control himself, he looked at Ethan, who tried to appear as small as possible.
"I'm grateful that you two helped me when I was injured so I'm going to let it go, only this once," he said finally, once he could look at the younger werewolf without wanting to strangle him. "But no more acting without me giving you green light, is that understood?"
"Yes, sir," Ethan confirmed meekly, Aiden echoing him a second later.
Deucalion nodded curtly, then focused on watching the world passing them by and tried not to think about the upcoming encounter with the remaining half of his pack.
Not that he was afraid to face Kali or Ennis, as Scott's healing had left him strengthened and energized. No, it was the feeling of loss that caused him to question his resolve to kill the traitors as they deserved. They were with him the longest, Ennis being his first follower after Deucalion had been blinded. He wished that he hadn't lost his loyalty, that he wasn't forced to kill him. And yet this was what he needed to do, as he won't ever be able to trust someone who wanted to see him dead.
No, he won't allow his sentiments stop him from doing what must be done.
***
Kali was pleasantly surprised when Ennis came to their bedroom and started to kiss her passionately, his hands undressing her with an urgency that caused her breath to quicken. As he pinched her nipples just as she liked, then put a hand between her legs and started to caress her with his fingers, she felt mounting arousal and started to wriggle underneath him, wanting more than that.
When he finally entered her, she was more than ready and moaned gutturally at each movement of his powerful body. She didn't remember when was the last time they'd had such a wild, intense sex, leaving them both a soaked, satisfied mess. It was almost like the first months of being together, their passion hot and unbridled and she felt hot tears forming in her eyes. She had missed this, and she opened his mouth to tell him that and then-
He slashed her throat with his claws, and she choked on her blood, suddenly unable to take a breath. She writhed in panic but he caught her arms in a bruising grip and pinned her struggling body to the bed with his own, heavier one. She started to see black spots from lack of oxygen when she felt him moving his hips and he resumed fucking her with renewed vigor, as if she wasn't dying because of him. He was still bloody aroused, and she felt bile gathering in her mouth at the very thought...
Wait, she should be dead already, was her throat actually patching itself? It shouldn't be healing so soon... But then she remembered that Ennis was no longer an Alpha. With a sudden burst of hope, determination and adrenaline she threw the man off her body and started to rip him into pieces, hacked him with savage rage until his body was almost unrecognizable. Only when she was sure that he was dead and would stay dead, she stood up weakly and ran to the bathroom, barely managing to grab the toilet before vomiting violently.
After she had nothing left in her to throw up, she stood up on shaking legs and barely managed to get into the shower cabin. She felt ill and dirty, and the only thing that she wanted was for the water to purge her, inside and outside, until Ennis was nothing more than a distant memory.
She turned on the water and started to cry.
***
Even before they opened the door, Deucalion smelled blood in the air and was instantly on alert.
"Be on your guard," he ordered the twins.
They entered the apartment and followed the metallic scent. It led them to Ennis' and Kali's bedroom and the sight that met them was gruesome, there was no other word for it.
On the crumpled, soaked sheets lay Ennis’ body, mutilated to the point of being almost unrecognizable. Deucalion sniffed, trying to catch the scent of the attacker, when he realized that the room not only smelled of blood, but also of sweat and… sex.
In that moment the doors to the bathroom opened and Kali came out, covered only in a towel which she had wrapped tightly around herself. She looked unhurt as there were no injuries that he could see but her eyes… The skin around them was red and swollen, and they were glazed and open wide, resembling open wounds.
She stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of them. “Duke, you’re here? And… you’re healed!” she exclaimed, surprised.
Seeing no imminent threat, the twins separated and Ethan asked, shocked: "Kali, what happened? Ennis..." while Aiden added: “Didn't he tell you that we’re coming back?”
“I guess he was too busy trying to kill me to mention that,” she said coldly. "As you can see, I killed him instead."
Deucalion frowned. Why would Ennis try to kill his lover? It made no sense. Unless… Unless he'd felt threatened by him being healed and wanted to claim Kali’s Alpha power for himself before Deucalion got back. Which was cruel and selfish, and entirely something that Ennis would have been capable of, he realized.
“Wait, Duke- your eyes!”
Deucalion immensely enjoyed the flabbergasted expression on her face.
“You didn’t expect that, did you?” he drawled. “Don’t think that I haven’t heard you plotting with Ennis how to kill me. Should I show you how I treat traitors?” He extended his claws.
Her shoulders sagged as she looked at him, defeated, as if all will to fight suddenly deserted her. “I only followed Ennis’ lead, and that was my biggest mistake. Do what you want to do with me, I don’t fucking care anymore,” she said woodenly, then went to the drawer and started to pick up some clothes. “If you want to punish me, then punish me, but now excuse me as I have a bloody carcass to bury.”
***
The twins went with Kali to bury Ennis’ body in the woods and Deucalion was left alone in the apartment, surrounded by the oppressive smell of blood, with only his jagged thoughts to keep him company.
What should he do, now? Should he kill Kali for even daring to think about killing him? Or should he exile her from the pack, instead? He didn’t know what to do, how to act anymore. He had the feeling that Ennis’ actions were punishment enough and had already hurt her deeply, way more than anything that he could think of. Causing her more pain would be redundant, and serve no point other than to satisfy his own need for revenge.
Still, there was a matter of trust, or lack thereof. How could he let her remain in the pack after she had been planning his death? True, she wasn’t thrilled or enthusiastic about the idea, not like Ennis had been, but the fact remained that she had chosen her lover over him. Could he ever forgive her for that? And if he did, would that be a sign of weakness on his part, and cause her to doubt his leadership even more?
He sighed heavily. Somehow, when he had no morals or conscience, the decision making process was much easier and straightforward. A transgression called for punishment, while a treason called for blood and death, it was as simple as that. These… doubts, these sentiments were troublesome and annoying, and he wished that he could get rid of them again.
Still, he couldn’t help but think that if Scott hadn’t forgiven him, he would still be blind, and would have lost his limbs and probably his life as well, as he would have been unable to defend himself even against the weakest Omega. He was humbled by that young man’s ability to rise above his own hurt and show kindness and compassion where Deucalion would have shown none.
And Scott wasn’t weak, far from it. Deucalion wanted to be the same kind of a leader, kind and just while remaining strong and respected by his pack. But what if his packmates would scorn him for it? He had been a visionary once, and it hadn’t ended well for him. Did he have the courage to try to be that man again?
He didn’t know, but he wished... He wished.
Chapter Text
After hearing that Scott had healed the same werewolf that was responsible for Isaac's kidnapping, he had been hurt, confused and angry. He'd run upstairs to his room, expecting Scott to come and say that he was sorry, and that he'd made a mistake in helping Deucalion. So he waited, and waited, and as he was slowly cooling off he finally realized that Scott wouldn't come to him to apologize, and the very thought caused all his demons to resurface.
Did Scott care for him still?... How was Isaac supposed to act around him now?
He was able to hear Scott talking with the adults still, the murmur of their voices barely audible through the floor, meaning that they'd decided to continue the conversation without Isaac. Suddenly, he felt childish that he had run away so abruptly without listening to the whole story. He shouldn't have acted so rashly, he should've kept his emotions in check, and now he felt too embarrassed about his outburst to go downstairs and ask to be included in the conversation once more.
He paced nervously, waiting for what seemed like a lifetime for Scott’s packmates to leave. Soon after that he heard footsteps going up the stairs, and he felt his heart beating faster as he waited for Scott to knock on his doors. Please, don't go to your room, he pleaded in the privacy of his mind. Show me that you still care about me, please.
He heard the footsteps slowing down, as if Scott stopped in front of his room and hesitated. Finally, after a couple of long, nerve-wracking moments, Isaac heard a quiet knocking and he felt faint from the sheer relief. Scott still wanted to talk with him, and that was the only thing that mattered.
He opened the door and one look at his friend's tired, worn out face was enough to make him feel guilty about adding to his worries, so Isaac pulled Scott inside and wrapped his arms around him. They simply held each for a moment, before Isaac said: "I'm sorry that I left so abruptly."
"I'm sorry that my actions hurt you," Scott murmured, his breath feeling warm and tingly on Isaac's skin. "I never wanted to cause you pain."
"I just… Please help me understand why healing that werewolf was so important to you."
Scott nodded and they bundled on the bed, fully clothed but pressed close to each other, Isaac resting his head on Scott's chest and feeling his friend's arm circling him loosely.
"The tale that I'm about to tell you is not an easy or pleasant one," Scott cautioned before he continued: "You probably don't know this, but Deucalion… He was a great man, once, striving for unity among the packs and truce between the hunters and werewolves. But when he was betrayed twice in a row, first when Allison's grandfather Gerard blinded him during peace negotiations, and then when his own Beta tried to kill him to claim his Alpha power, something just snapped in him."
"Allison's grandfather did this to him?... But why?" Isaac asked with disbelief.
Scott pressed his lips into a thin line before he said: "Gerard… He's not a good man. In fact, he's one of the worst people I know. He lured Deucalion into a trap and killed both werewolves and his fellow hunters just so that everyone would blame Deucalion for it. Gerard doesn't care for anyone but himself and he kills people without second thought if it helps achieving his goals. He's the one that truly needs to be stopped."
For the first time since they'd met, Isaac felt Scott burning with hatred. "You want to kill him," he suddenly realized and he propped himself on his elbow to look Scott in the eye.
"As long as he stays far away from Beacon Hills, I'm not going to hunt him down, if that's what you're afraid of. But if he comes here…" Scott's expression darkened. "If he threatens anyone, human or werewolf, I'm not going to stop until he's dead."
Isaac shivered, it didn't seem like an empty threat, this was a promise if he ever heard one. "Does Allison's dad know about all of this?" he wondered. "Does Allison?"
"No, not yet. There just never seemed to be the right moment to start that kind of a conversation," Scott admitted, then asked: "Does it… bother you, that I'm capable of killing?"
Strangely, it didn’t bother Isaac as much as it probably should, and he wondered why. Was it because Scott was so forgiving all the time, trying to give people second and even third chances, so when he said that someone needed to be killed, Isaac believed him that it was truly necessary and couldn’t be avoided?
"It doesn't, since I know that your world is- different, more violent and dangerous than I expected," he assured his friend. "I only wonder… How do you know who should be forgiven? Who deserves a second chance and who doesn't? How do you even start- forgiving someone?" his voice shook as he asked.
Scott looked at him carefully before asking: "Why do I have the feeling that we're no longer talking about Deucalion?"
How could Scott know him so well to the point that bordered on mind-reading? Isaac felt his eyes welling up and he hated himself for feeling so vulnerable, so he sat up with his back to the other teen.
"I've been thinking about my dad," he confessed finally, hugging his knees to his chest in a vain attempt to comfort himself. "Since that day when you rescued me I haven't seen him, I don't know how he's coping with me being away, if he's alright…"
He trailed off. He didn't even know if he wanted his father to be alright, but not because of a need for revenge, but because that would mean that his dad didn't miss him at all, that he was better off without Isaac, and that thought caused his heart to clench painfully.
And yet… his father had hurt him so much, so many times, that Isaac felt apprehensive of seeing the man again, much less speaking with him. And getting back to that house, with its basement and the freezer… It was his worst nightmare, and he dreaded the thought that he would ever be forced to live with his father ever again.
"I know that I should hate him for what he did, that I should wish that he would suffer just as I was, but I just… can't," he whispered painfully. "And yet, I can't forget his face as he beat me, and I freeze from fright each time I think about him. So I don't hate him, but I can't forgive him either, and it's all so painful and confusing…"
"Oh Isaac," Scott breathed and spooned him from behind, his strong arms seeming like a warm blanket. "It's understandable that you feel conflicted about him. No matter how badly he treated you, he's still your dad. He raised you, so it's alright if you feel attached to him on some level. But please don't force yourself to do anything that you don't want or feel ready to. You certainly don't have to forgive him. Maybe at some point you will, but maybe you won't, and as long as you’re true to your feelings, it's going to be alright."
He wanted to believe Scott, he wanted to be able to heal, and feel better, but he didn't even know how to start.
"It's just that- It's been weeks since I'm living with you, I should be fine by now, and usually I am. But then something reminds me of him, like the smell of coffee that he drinks every morning, and it makes me feel- raw, like an open wound, again and again," he said brokenly. "What's wrong with me?"
"There's nothing wrong with you," Scott said, rubbing his shoulders gently. "Grief doesn’t have a time limit. And you’re grieving, because even though your father still lives, the feeling of being a family, the closeness and trust that comes with it, you've lost it all."
Isaac felt hot tears falling down his cheeks. He'd lost his dad…
He'd lost his dad.
"But how could I ever cope with that, if I'm still hoping that he would- that we could-" he choked on his words. "I wish I could just… let go, and forget about him, but I can't. So what should I do, instead?"
"Would meeting with him help?" Scott asked softly. "You don't have to, of course. But if it'd give you a sense of closure…"
Isaac wondered for a moment. Did he want to see his father again? Not yet, certainly, he didn't feel even close to being ready for that. But at some point, when he wasn't feeling so raw and vulnerable… Maybe.
"Not now, but someday… I think I'd like that," he said finally.
In response Scott pulled him even closer and assured him: "If and when you feel ready, not a second earlier, alright? And I'd be there for you if you'd like me to, you don't have to go through this alone."
Isaac felt his tight muscles relaxing finally. He didn't know if he would ever feel ready to face his father, but knowing that the option was there, and that Scott would support him through it all, it was a comforting thought.
He turned around to look at his friend, his family. How could he ever thank Scott for everything that he'd done for him? A simple 'thank you' didn't seem to be enough, especially since Scott had such a hard day and he still found it within himself to comfort Isaac…
Eyes suddenly wide, he jabbed Scott’s chest with a finger. "You did it again!" he said accusatoringly.
"Did what?" asked Scott, bewildered.
"Distracted me, that’s what. We were supposed to talk about what happened to you, not me," Isaac reminded him. "And now I feel like the worst friend ever, only focused on my problems and not yours."
“You needed it, and I’ve already talked with mom, Peter and Derek, so don’t worry about me,” Scott assured him, then asked tentatively: “Are you… okay with me helping Deucalion?”
Isaac grimaced. “I’m not thrilled about it, that’s for sure, but I’m not angry anymore. As long as he no longer poses a danger to us, I’m fine with it.”
Besides, how could he fault Scott for having such a big, forgiving heart, if Isaac had benefited from that numerous times already?
Chapter 76
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
In the morning his mom called the Eichen House asking if she and Scott could visit one of the patients, and the receptionist agreed and asked them to come around 9:30 AM. They drove Isaac to school and told him that Scott would be missing classes today so that he could visit his friend in the hospital. Isaac looked worried and intrigued at the same time, obviously regretting not being included in the conversation last night, but nodded with understanding and went to school promising to share his notes with Scott in the evening.
"Will you be alright?" his mom asked since Scott’s been playing nervously with the sleeves of his hoodie during the whole ride to the Eichen House.
"I'll be fine," he assured her. "The suspense is making me twitchy, that's all."
Not knowing the truth was the most difficult part of the trip. He hadn’t been close to the Banshee so her death, while it would sadden him and make him feel indebted to her, wouldn't cause him the heart-wrenching pain that he was intimately familiar with from losing his packmates in his first life. Still, she was a living, feeling person and a part of the supernatural world at that, so he hoped that she was alive still, even though his intuition was telling him otherwise.
When his mom parked and they got out of the car, Scott couldn’t help but shiver at the look of the gloomy, sinister looking building that loomed over them. He hated the Eichen House, nothing good had ever happened in this cursed place, and as soon as they accomplished their task he would happily leave the building without looking back. This place gave him creeps, and he was an Alpha werewolf, for crying out loud!
Apparently his mom didn't share his feelings or she was hiding them well, as she walked towards the building in quick strides, Scott trailing one step behind her.
"Hello, we're here to see Meredith Walker," she said with a polite smile as they approached the reception.
"One moment please," a bored-looking matron with a ridiculous bun on her head started to shuffle through the papers with what looked to be a permanent frown. "I'm sorry but Ms Walker passed away yesterday, my sincere condolences." The condolences were hardly sincere, as her bored face didn't even as much as twitched.
"Dear God," Melissa breathed, looking overwhelmed for a moment. It was one thing to hear Scott's tale about the in-between, but it was another to know that it had really happened, that it wasn't just a figment of his imagination. "While we're not her relatives, she was my son's friend. Do you know when and where the funeral will be held?"
The woman grimaced slightly. "Her family is not responding to our calls, the contact number that we have in our files seems to be out of service. If no one shows up to pick up the body, she'll be buried in the municipal cemetery without any additional funeral services."
"That's awful," Melissa said with a frown. "Could we take care of the funeral arrangements, instead?"
The woman finally looked happy (or less gloomy, at the very least) at the prospect of being relieved of the problematic case as she pushed a paper in Melissa's direction.
"Please fill this out and sign at the bottom," she instructed.
Scott’s mom just sighed and completed the form obligingly.
"Everything seems to be in order," the receptionist said after checking the document. "The body will be released within 24 hours, you’ll be informed once that’s possible so please await our call. Anything else I could help you with?"
"No, thank you," Melissa nodded curtly and turned around only to bump into another woman who was approaching the reception at that exact moment. "I'm sorry, I wasn't looking-"
"Mrs Daehler?" Scott asked, surprised at seeing Matt's mom here.
"Are you here to visit Matt, too?" The woman looked equally as surprised to see him, and her husband joined them in that moment.
"Do you know each other?" Melissa asked, bemused. "I'm Melissa McCall, Scott's mother."
"Sean and Stephanie Daehler, nice to meet you," Mr Daehler introduced the two of them. "Your son was the one who realized that our Matt… wasn't feeling well. We've admitted him here for therapy."
Scott shivered, a foreboding feeling making his hair stand up on the back of his neck. He didn't trust the so-called therapists in this cursed facility and he wasn’t convinced that Matt would get help here, the help that he so desperately needed.
"I didn't know that Matt’s here," he admitted. "I came here to visit my friend Meredith but apparently she died yesterday. How is Matt doing? Is he feeling better?”
Mr and Mrs Daehler looked at each other worriedly, the news of patients dying in the hospital doing nothing to calm them down.
"I’m sorry to hear that,” Sean said finally. "We don't know, he doesn't want to see us. But we keep coming here weekly in hope that he'll change his mind."
“Did Matt say why he doesn’t want to have visitors? I imagine that being here could get lonely after a while. I wouldn’t mind seeing him, even if for a short time, just to check if he’s doing alright,” Scott said hopefully.
“Unfortunately, we haven’t seen him at all,” Stephanie said sadly.
Mr Daehler hesitated for a moment, before he said: “Honey, what would you say if we asked to see Matt, even against his wishes? If Scott’s friend died here, no matter the cause, I would feel better if we checked on him.”
His wife nodded enthusiastically.
As Matt’s parents were talking with the receptionist, Scott took his mom to the side and asked her to go with them to see Matt.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” he said with a frown. “I don’t know Matt all that well, but his refusal to see his parents for so long seems unlike him, and it worries me,”
“If his parents don’t mind us going with them, we’ll visit the boy together,” she assured him and squeezed his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him, so he smiled at her gratefully.
In the end, despite the receptionist’s protests, Matt’s parents demanded seeing him and with him being underage, the facility couldn’t deny them that right. Once Scott revealed that his mother was a nurse and could help ascertain if everything was alright with Matt, it was agreed that they would all go together.
They were led by a bulky looking guard to Matt’s room and were told to wait outside for a moment. Scott focused on his senses, hoping to get some clue as to what was happening with the boy, and listened in to the guard’s quiet, hissed threats.
Listen little bastard, you have a couple of visitors but if you so much as breathe the wrong way, we’ll make you regret it. Keep telling them that you don’t want to see anyone and maybe you’ll avoid the bucket today, you got it?
The bucket? Before Scott could gather his thoughts, the door opened and they were allowed inside.
Matt was standing stiffly in the middle of the room which seemed more like a prisoner’s cell than a room suitable for a teenage boy. He was looking pale and slightly thinner than when Scott had seen his last, but there were no bruises or wounds that could be seen.
“I said that I don’t want visitors,” he said dispassionately, looking at the wall. “Go away.”
Stephanie’s lips wobbled as she said: “Sweetheart, we were worried and wanted to check on you, that’s all.”
"You saw that I'm doing okay, so leave," Matt said woodenly. "I don't want to see you."
Seeing him so despondent was painful to Scott. He knew that this boy was capable of killing people because he was hurting too much on the inside, but this… empty shell was as far removed from Matt that he had known it was alarming. He had seen him sad, furious, bitter, but he'd never seen him so emotionless as he was acting now, and it worried him more than anything.
Suddenly, he sensed a metallic, stale scent in the air and he stiffened instantly.
"Something's wrong, I can smell dried blood on him," Scott muttered quietly into his mom's ear. "Can you give him a health check?"
She looked at him hesitantly, as if asking if he was sure about it, and he nodded.
"Matt, dear, recently one of the patients was found dead in her room and we need to examine you before we can leave," Melissa said calmly.
"Dead…?" Matt asked, for the first time really looking at them.
"Yes, and while the cause of her death is unknown at the moment, we'd rather not take any chances. Don't worry, I'm a nurse, so I'm qualified to give you a basic health check. Now, please take off your shirt so that I can examine you," Scott's mom said calmly but sternly, leaving no room for objections.
"Now wait a minute," the guard interrupted, "this was supposed to be a family visit, not a medical check. I must ask you to leave and make a reservation for another time."
"We have a legitimate doubt regarding the care our son's getting. We won't leave until we've made sure that he's alright," Matt's father said stubbornly.
"This is against the protocol and can result in fines and the patient being rejected from further care in our facility," the bulky man said.
Matt's parents hesitated for a moment, their resolve waiving, so Scott said to the boy: "If you've been mistreated by the staff here, your parents won't let you stay even a day longer here, right, Mr and Mrs Daehler?" Scott prompted.
Matt’s eyes widened, his mouth opening slightly in shock.
"Of course, Matt’s well-being is a priority!" Sean said with conviction.
"Matt, dear, you can tell us the truth," the boy's mom said, her voice shaking slightly. "If you've been treated badly, we'll take you home."
The boy looked undecided for a moment, before he set his jaw stubbornly and in a quick, jerky move he took off his long sleeve t-shirt, revealing the bruised arms and shoulders underneath.
Matt's parents gasped, while the guard growled: "He must've done this to himself!"
"Matt, do you have any bruises on your back?" Scott asked quietly. As the boy nodded and turned around to show finger-shaped bruises on his back, Scott told the guard tartly: "He wouldn't have been able to cause these injuries by himself unless his joints suddenly disappeared, so cut the crap and bring the director or whoever is in charge of this facility down here."
His vulgar order must have made its desired effect, as the guard almost ran away from the room.
"Oh sweetheart," Mrs Daehler cried into her handkerchief. "I swear that we didn't know…"
Melissa approached Matt and looked at his bruises carefully. "They are all artificial, there won't be a sign of them within a week at the most," she assured him softly.
Looking into Matt's haunted eyes, Scott knew that his stay at the Eichen House would be yet another wound that didn't leave any visible scars.
***
In the end the Daehlers decided against an official investigation, not wanting to put Matt through the questioning that would follow if they had taken that route. They did negotiate immediate discharge, as well as waiver of all payments and fees in addition to receiving an apology and a promise that the director would execute an internal audit within the facility.
Scott didn't put much faith into the latter, but he wasn't going to question their decisions. After all, they had achieved their goal of getting Matt out of that horrid place, so he considered that a success.
"We can't thank you enough for your help," Sean said as they left the building.
"Being a mother myself, I can't imagine being indifferent to what happened to your son," Melissa said heartfully. "If you need any assistance, medical or otherwise, feel free contact me and I'll see what I can do to help."
"We might take you up on that offer," Stephanie said with a determined gleam in her still red-rimmed eyes.
Scott wasn't taking his eyes off Matt. The boy looked detached and not fully there, as if mentally he was still in the Eichen House, and that worried him. But for the first time in a long time he felt uncertain about what to do, how to help him without making things even worse, so he just let his mother exchange the phone numbers with the Daehlers, and they left after another round of thankyous and goodbyes.
They still had a funeral to organize, after all.
Notes:
Um, surprise?
That's right, we haven't seen the last of Matt yet.
Chapter Text
As they went back to the car, Scott said: "Thanks, mom, I couldn't have done this without you," and he hugged her fiercely.
She patted his back gently. "You're welcome. Now, let's go home, we deserve a break."
"Actually, I wanted to check up on the Dunbars to see if they need anything," Scott admitted.
Melissa's face spoke volumes about what she thought about his idea. "I would think that we've done enough good deeds for one day," she commented tartly.
"It's not about that, I only want to make sure that Liam's alright."
It had been hard for him to leave his pup yesterday evening, and not knowing how Liam was dealing with all of that had happened was making him nervous.
"Alright, but after meeting with them I expect you to march straight home, is that clear? No more saving people, leave that for another day, alright?"
"No saving anyone else today, got it," Scott agreed with a smile.
"Good," she said, satisfied. "With how the things are progressing, we'll soon be able to compete with the Red Cross or Doctors Without Barriers," she muttered under her breath.
Scott snorted. "Mom, one teen saved per day is hardly that impressive."
"For civilians such as us? I’d say it's spectacular," Melissa deadpanned, starting the car.
During the ride Scott texted Liam asking if he was at school or if his parents allowed him to miss school.
No classes today, I wouldn't be able to concentrate today anyway… Liam wrote back.
A hard night? Scott asked worriedly.
Yeah. Mom and dad couldn't sleep either, so we're all a little tired today, Liam explained.
Scott frowned, wondering how best to help his pup. Do you want me to drop with a visit or do you prefer spending some time alone with your parents?
Visit!:) Liam texted back excitedly within what seemed to be a second or two. After a moment, he received another message: I mean, if you don't have other plans.
Even if I had other plans, I would've cancelled them if needed , Scott assured him. I'll be at Derek's soon, please give your parents heads up, alright?
Will do. Can't wait!
Scott grinned, glad that Liam didn't lose his enthusiastic nature. He loved how his pup became so easily excited and he wished that he could preserve this almost child-like eagerness in Liam for as long as possible. There would be a time for his pup to grow up, that's for sure, but he would do everything in his power to allow the boy a chance to enjoy his childhood for a little bit longer, if possible.
***
Liam hadn’t slept well that night, his mind replying the events of the day before with a surprising stubbornness. He really wished to put the attack on his family behind him, but every time he’d closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep, he saw his dad being stabbed, again and again, and he failed each time he tried to stop the bleeding.
His parents hadn’t had the easiest night either, if their tired eyes and ashen faces were any indication. They tried to put on a happy face for him, and he understood that, as he was trying to do the same so that they didn’t worry for him. Still, he wasn’t the one who nearly died or was molested, it was them who’d taken the brunt of the assault, and he didn’t want to add to their concerns even more.
When Scott texted him asking how he was feeling, his mood lifted a bit. But when the older teen offered to visit, Liam whooped excitedly, causing his parents to look at him with surprise.
"Scott’s going to drop by!" he explained.
His parents exchanged a look.
“What? I’m just happy to see him again,” he said defensively.
“Whatever you say, son,” his stepdad commented, his lips twitching a bit.
***
As she dropped Scott off, Melissa drove home deep in thought.
Yesterday had been crazy and today didn't seem to be any better, and it wasn't even noon yet! Everything was happening so fast, the tasks and responsibilities piling up to the point that she felt stretched thin, but she was careful not to show her wariness to her son. Scott seemed to be so used to the craziness that their life had recently turned out to be that she was embarrassed at being overwhelmed when he seemed to be doing so much better, all things considered.
At times such as these she missed having a man in her life, someone whom she could share her responsibilities with... But then she reminded herself that she wasn't alone any longer and she had someone to turn to when the world went crazy and things became too much.
When she entered the house, she called Peter and waited nervously for him to pick up. How do you even ask a prospective partner to help you organize a funeral? No dating guides ever mentioned that scenario…
"Hi, I just got back from the Eichen House," Melissa started awkwardly when he picked up the phone.
"I was hoping that you'll call me," Peter admitted. "How did it go?"
"Would you believe me if I told you that I got roped into saving yet another teenage boy?" she asked with exasperation.
Peter chuckled. "Considering how Scott is attracting such cases on a regular basis, I'm not even surprised. Would you like me to drop by? That way you could tell me everything in person," he offered.
"I'm feeling quite overwhelmed at the moment, so yes, please," she said sincerely.
"I'll be at your place in half an hour," he promised.
Once they disconnected, Melissa went to the bathroom and looked at herself critically. She had bags under her eyes and her hair was a real mess. Should she leave them loose, or gather them into a ponytail? Also, would wearing makeup be an overkill? It wasn't a date, but still… She didn't want to look unkempt, so she combed her hair until it shone, and decided to apply a small amount of clear lip gloss, wanting to look attractive but without being too obvious about it.
When she realized that she was acting like a teenage girl, she almost laughed at herself. Romance turns people into fools, she mused.
Still, when the doorbell rang, her heart skipped a beat, and she forced herself to be calm and collected, or at least appear as such. Would she be able to fool a werewolf, though? Scott had mentioned at some point that they had heightened senses, meaning that Peter would be able to sense her excitement no matter how hard she would try to hide it.
Deciding that worrying about it would serve no purpose other than to make her even more nervous and self-conscious, she opened the door only to see Peter standing on the doorstep with a single red rose.
"Hello, beautiful," he greeted her and somehow in his mouth the word didn't sound overused or obnoxious.
"You're not bad looking, yourself," she said lightly as she fought an amused smile.
"This must be the deepest, most sophisticated compliment I've ever received," he joked, his eyes twinkling. "May I come in, or should I praise your beauty a bit longer before I'm allowed in?"
She pretended to think about it for a moment, before she invited him inside with a small laugh. She didn’t know how Peter was doing it, but his mere presence lifted her spirits instantly and she was feeling much better than just a few moments before.
“I’m afraid that I don’t have anything special to satisfy your sweet tooth,” she said apologetically, putting the rose into a vase. “Unless you feel like trying some home made cookies, that is.”
“You won’t ever hear me declining such an offer,” he said with a wink, “especially when it comes to anything home-made.”
Once they settled on the sofa, a big jar of cookies placed strategically within an arm’s length, Peter circled her shoulders with his arm with a quiet: “May I?” She nodded, suddenly breathless.
It’s been years since she’d last snuggled with a handsome man, and the feeling of Peter’s lean but muscular body pressed to her… it was exquisite.
Trying not to let herself become too distracted by their shared body warmth, Melissa described everything that had happened in the Eichen House, from learning that the girl that Scott saw while unconscious had been found dead, to meeting with the Daehlers and discovering that their son was mistreated by the staff.
“I don’t know how Scott does it, he just- sees someone in need and takes it on himself to help them, completely ignoring the fact that it isn’t his responsibility in the first place,” she complained. “I don’t know if I should feel proud of him, or be concerned for him…”
“I dare say that both reactions are completely understandable in these circumstances,” he said, nipping at the cookie absentmindedly. “But don’t treat him like a kid in need of protection, he certainly won’t like that.”
“Are you saying that I should just ignore the fact that he disregards his own well-being while helping others?” she asked incredulously.
Peter shook his head. “No, but trust that he’s adult enough to learn from his mistakes. He’s pushed himself too far already and now he knows the consequences of that. And he’s too intelligent to make the same mistake twice,” he explained. “Also, judging by the fact that he asked for your help with the Daehler’s boy proves that he no longer feels that he has to do everything alone, and that he's learned to ask for assistance. It’s a good sign.”
She sighed heavily. “I know that, and you’re right, he did ask for my help as soon as he heard that Matt might be mistreated. I just wish that he didn’t have to get involved at all but let the adults take care of it…”
“Melissa, forgive me for being blunt, but Scott’s almost an adult himself, and with him claiming the responsibility of a pack leader, even more so. My advice would be to let him know that he can turn to you with anything, and trust that he would know when to ask for help,” Peter said, rubbing her arm slightly.
She nodded, then hesitated for a moment before asking awkwardly: “Speaking of which… Would you mind helping me with the funeral arrangements? I could do it myself, but…”
“Of course I’ll help,” Peter said immediately. “I’m here not only for the cookies and your company, as wonderful as it is. I wish to be… useful, for the lack of a better word. So, feel free to ask for my help with anything and everything, whatever you need.”
She appreciated that, she really did. The problem was that she wasn’t used to asking for help, being a single mother for so long made her self-sufficient and independent simply because there hadn’t been any other alternative. It had been that way ever since Rafael had left her, and even before that, but maybe she could finally start counting on someone other than herself?
“But what can I do for you in return?” she asked, because the last thing she wanted was to end up in an unequal relationship, and with him being a wealthy, cultured man, and a werewolf at that, it wasn’t that unlikely or improbable.
“I could think of something…” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, filling her with both anticipation and dread at thinking about all the sexy stuff that a man like him could desire, and she felt both hot and undecided if she wanted to take their relationship to the next level so quickly, when he added: “I’d say that chocolate eclairs would be a suitable payment. What do you think?”
She nodded wordlessly, mortified by her not so innocent thoughts. Did she just envisioned having sex with him while he was being a perfect gentleman?...
They really needed to go on that date, and quickly, before she embarrassed herself even more, she decided.
Chapter Text
Staying sober for the whole month wasn't going to be easy, Jackson quickly realized. He was too used to numbing himself with alcohol whenever he felt angry or depressed. Still, if he wanted to join Scott's pack he would need to find a different way to silence his thoughts and numb his emotions.
During the last couple of weeks he'd been observing how a sickly, weak, astmathic boy, basically a nobody, became one of the most popular guys in their class. However, if it was only a matter of popularity, Jackson wouldn't have cared, but what Scott was doing was much more than that. He'd created a tight knit group consisting of his closest friends who now seemed almost inseparable, and Jackson had wanted to be in it even before learning of the supernatural world.
Now, ever since he'd had the chance to witness the sheer power and authority that Scott exuded when he was channeling his inner wolf, Jackson couldn't help but want to submit to that strength and let Scott take charge of him. It was a strange realization, but he was done with lying to himself. He hated being dependent on his adoptive parents as they forced him to pretend to be someone else, a poster boy with no deeper feelings, so it would be a nice change to have someone who actually gave a damn about what he needed.
After Scott had shown him how true closeness felt like he found himself looking at his adoptive parents in a completely different light. The way they shied away from each other, how they avoided touching even accidentally made him realize that there was something seriously wrong with their marriage. It wasn't that obvious, but once he knew what to look for, he couldn't stop noticing the small but telling signs.
After Sunday dinner, once his dad went to watch the TV and his mother was clearing the table, he blurted: "Are you happy with dad?"
She almost dropped the plates in surprise and looked at him as if he had grown a second head.
"Of course, why wouldn't I be?" she replied with a plastic, fake smile that almost made him cringe.
"I don't know who you are trying to fool, me or yourself, but fine, be that way," he said with a shrug. She was an adult, it was her choice if she wanted to live a pretend life. And if she perfected the 'fake it 'till you make it' mindset and made it her life philosophy, that was none of his business.
Later in the evening his father knocked on the door of his room and entered without waiting for a reply. It had always been that way, as if the mere fact of knocking made it acceptable to disregard Jackson's privacy.
"I don't know what you said to her, but you've upset your mother," the man said and clenched his jaw hard.
"I only spoke the truth and it's not my fault that she'd rather lie to herself," Jackson sneered and wasn't even surprised when his father looked at him furiously.
"Don't give me cheek, I won't accept back talking under my own roof," his father growled, his face red.
"I apologize," Jackson mumbled.
"I expect you to be polite and respectful at all times, is that understood?" the man asked sternly.
"Yes, father," he said dutifully, the words drilled into him from an early age.
He hated being under his father's thumb, but what other choice did he have? He was still underage and the very idea of running away from home was laughable. No, this was his reality, and all he could do was to grit his teeth and try to rein in his temper, which he was rather poor at.
When his father turned around to leave, Jackson said impulsively: "I asked mom if you were happy with each other."
The man froze then turned in his direction, his face almost completely blank and giving nothing away.
Jackson gulped, wondering if he crossed some kind of a line since in their family no one ever talked about feelings, but he still continued: "It doesn't look like you are, and I wondered why would you stay in an unhappy marriage…" he saw how his father's face darkened and added hurriedly: "But that's none of my business, I get it."
For a moment he thought that his father would finally snap and hit him, which had never happened before. Oh, the man was certainly creative with his punishments, even to the point of cruelty, but he'd never resorted to brute, straightforward violence.
Finally, his father said: "Believe it or not, but we're staying together for you."
"Why?" he asked in disbelief.
The man looked at him incredulously. "Do you really need to ask?"
"Yeah, I do. If you're miserable, you're making me miserable too," Jackson said bluntly. "This- us, being a family, it just doesn't work."
He didn't know why he was finally saying out loud what he'd thought in the privacy of his mind for quite some time now. Why was he suddenly being honest with the man who'd drilled keeping up appearances into him? But he was so sick of pretending that they were a happy, loving family, he needed to get it off his chest or else he would start screaming, or worse… he would drink himself to oblivion.
His father kept looking at him, his face perfectly controlled, before he turned around and left without another word.
Jackson let out a breath he didn't even know he'd been holding. It was the most honest and bizarre conversation he'd ever had with his adoptive father, or at least it would be if it didn't end so abruptly. Now, he didn't know what to think anymore.
He desperately wanted to have a drink but he gritted his teeth and tried to think of something, anything else.
***
When Monday finally came, he was glad to leave the house and the weird feeling of suspension that could be felt there. However, at school he immediately noticed that Scott was missing and he frowned.
"Hey Lahey, where's Scott?" he asked briskly as they entered the classroom. "You two are usually joined at the hip."
"Would it kill you to be nice for once?" the boy asked with a roll of his eyes.
"Sorry, force of habit," Jackson said sheepishly. Recently he'd started to warm up to Isaac, but old habits die hard.
"He went to visit his friend in the hospital, that's all I know," Isaac replied.
“Oh,” Jackson didn’t get the chance to say anything else as the teacher entered the classroom.
He couldn’t focus on the lesson as he was thinking about Scott, though. Would the werewolf appreciate it if he texted him, asking how he was doing? Their weird friendship was still fresh and he wasn’t sure if Scott would like it if Jackson suddenly started pestering him about his private life. In the end, he decided to give him some space, and save the questions for later when Scott was back at school.
***
After classes Danny grabbed his arm to get his attention. “What’s with you and Isaac? I never thought I’d ever see you willingly talking to him.”
It was the first time Danny spoke to him ever since their falling-out and Jackson couldn’t help but feel guilty at the thought. He had really messed up, and it was a small wonder that his former(?) friend was speaking to him at all.
“He’s not so bad once you get to know him,” he replied awkwardly.
“And when did you even get the chance to do that?” Danny frowned.
Jackson sighed. How could he explain everything that had happened in the last couple of days to someone who didn’t have an idea that werewolves were even real? Somehow he didn’t think that saying ‘we’ve kinda bonded over being kidnapped together’ was a good idea.
“I kissed Scott,” he finally said, making his friend gap at him with disbelief. “Yeah, I know, ironic, isn’t it? So yeah, I kissed Scott and spent the night at his place, and since Isaac is living with him, I couldn’t just ignore him, right?”
“You.kissed.a.boy,” Danny said slowly.
“Yeah.”
“You... utter bastard! You made me think that you hate gays, and then you just go and kiss another guy- I can’t believe you!” Danny growled, incensed.
“I was being a jerk, I know that,” Jackson said tiredly. “And I’m sorry, but discovering that I might like boys wasn’t the easiest experience for me, alright? And don’t worry, Scott isn’t interested in me, he said so outright, so we’re just friends now.”
“You’re friends with Scott McCall,” Danny deadpanned.
“Yeah?” he felt like he seriously overused the word in the last five minutes, but what was with Danny repeating his every sentence?
“You’re fucking unbelievable,” the boy said lowly, looking as if he was punched in the gut.
“Listen, I- There are things going on in my life that aren’t pretty and Scott just- was there for me, alright? I owe him a lot,” Jackson said honestly.
He hadn’t meant to hurt or upset Danny, they had known each other for years now, but if the boy wouldn’t be able accept his new friends, then how could Jackson ever hope to tell him about his plan of becoming a werewolf?
Danny frowned. “Are you having problems?” he asked hesitantly. “Is this about your family?”
“That, too,” Jackson admitted. “So I’m really sorry for being a prat, but... things are going to change now. I’m going to hang out with Scott’s-” he stopped himself from saying ‘pack’ at the last moment, “group from now on. I mean, not all the time, but-”
“I get it,” Danny said. “We’ve fallen out with each other and you’ve found new friends. It happens. And to be honest, maybe I should do the same.” He turned around and left.
Jackson sighed and ran his hand through his hair nervously. This could’ve gone better. And yet… How could he remain friends with Danny while keeping so many secrets from him? He wasn’t exactly an expert on relationships but he was fairly sure that honesty was not optional.
Chapter 79
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The day of Meredith's funeral was surprisingly beautiful, the sky was as clear as could be and the world seemed aglow with the upcoming spring. Even birds chirped happily as they flew from tree to tree and Scott couldn’t help but think that it’s the way of nature: the cycle of seasons, the constant shift from life to death to life.
And Scott… he was the living proof of it, both because of his travel to the past, and also because of Meredith's sacrifice which had allowed him to return from the in-between. He was so thankful to her, more than he could put into words. If it wasn’t for her, he would have lost his chance to make things right, to save and protect the people he loved and cared for. He swore to himself not to let such a gift go to waste.
The funeral itself, it was a tranquil experience, it was so quiet that it seemed almost serene. Since he sincerely doubted that Meredith was religious there was no priest present, but only himself, his mom, Peter and Derek, since only they were fully aware of the circumstances of Meredith’s death.
“Thank you for being here with me,” he said to them as they were leaving the cemetery. In response he was given a series of hugs, first from his mom, then from his packmates.
He was happy to have them in his life, and he hugged them back fiercely.
***
Once they were back at home, he felt restless. He had this feeling that he should be doing something, anything. And while he appreciated the chance to rest, he hated being idle. Also, Meredith’s funeral reminded him of everything that had happened on Sunday and he wondered how Deucalion was doing. Did he manage to reconnect with his pack? But more importantly, why did Scott care so much if the man was alright?
Somehow, without him noticing it, he had already stopped thinking about Deucalion as the younger version of his mentor from his previous life. In the past there had always been a barrier of age and experience between them, and while Scott had admired the man greatly, he couldn’t in all honesty call him a friend since they hadn’t known each other that well, all things considered. Yes, they had been allies, as well as teacher and student, but nothing more than that.
But this version of Deucalion… There was something different about him, or maybe it was Scott who was different, more mature this time around, which allowed them to connect on a different level than before? He honestly enjoyed the man’s presence, once Deucalion had stopped acting as a megalomaniac bent on murder and mayhem, that is.
Giving into the temptation, he texted the man: Hi, it’s Scott, I haven’t heard from you the last few days. Is everything alright?
Once he sent the message he waited nervously for a reply, feeling his heart beating in his chest anxiously. Will the man think him silly for being such a worrywart? Will he reply at all? Or will he just disregard his message?
After a long moment, his phone rang, and Scott hurriedly picked it up.
“Hi,” he said, suddenly feeling timid.
“Hi Scott, I apologise that I haven’t kept in touch as I promised, but the last few days were… difficult for my pack,” he heard the man’s deep, cultured voice, though it sounded a little tired.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Scott said honestly. “Is there anything I could do to help?”
“How is that your first reaction to everything is to offer help?” Deucalion asked, sounding faintly amused.
“It’s a knee jerk reaction, I can’t help it,” he admitted sheepishly. “So, is there anything I can do?”
“Unless you know how to heal guilt and heartbreak, then no,” the man said sadly. “And before you ask, it’s about Kali. Ennis attacked her and she killed him in self-defense, but she hasn’t been doing well since then. She’s been having nightmares and can’t sleep properly, so unless you have any idea how to cure that, there’s nothing that you or anyone could do.”
That sounded awful, Scott wasn’t exactly Kali’s biggest fan, but even she didn’t deserve being attacked by the very person she loved the most. He bit his lip and asked tentatively: “Have you tried entering her mind and dulling her memories a bit? I know that it helped when I did it for Peter to stop him reliving the day his family died in the fire.”
There were a couple of moments of silence before Deucalion said: “I haven’t thought about that, to be honest, I’ve done a lot of memory manipulation in the past, but most of it- it wasn’t exactly benign in nature,” he admitted.
“It’s all about intention, you know. You’d need to enter her mind wanting to ease her pain,” Scott explained. “You won’t succeed if you try to do that while feeling negative emotions.”
“I’m not sure if I can do that, since she planned to kill me when I was incapacitated,” Deucalion said. “I know that you’d probably think me petty, since you were able to forgive me and I can’t do the same but-”
“It’s okay, I understand,” he interrupted the man softly, “Forgiveness can’t be forced, I know that. Still, the mere fact that you’re worried for her even despite that, it speaks a lot about the kind of a person that you are.”
“Conflicted one, you mean.”
“That, too. But I actually meant that you’re a good person,” he said.
“And you’re an incorrigible optimist,” Deucalion chuckled softly, and Scott couldn’t help but think that he had a nice laugh.
“That I am,” he admitted, thankful that the man couldn’t see his blush. “Do you want me to come to your place? I can help Kali if she allows me into her mind.”
“I think it's a great idea,” Deucalion agreed. “I’ll talk to her and ask if she’s willing.”
Once they finished talking, Scott felt himself buzzing with excitement and energy. He was going to see Deucalion, and if he was being entirely honest with himself, he was actually looking forward to it.
***
Kali wasn’t thrilled by the idea, to say the least, but she was so exhausted by the lack of sleep that she caved surprisingly quickly.
“Are you sure that you know what you’re doing?” she asked with apprehension as Scott circled her and placed a hand on the back of her neck.
“I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t sure about it,” he assured her before plunging his claws deep into her spine.
Scott tried not to peer into her memories too much, but he couldn’t help but think how beastly Ennis’ actions had been. Still, it wasn’t the time or place to feel any kind of negative emotions, so he focused on soothing the memory rather than adding fuel to it.
If Peter’s mind was a raging inferno, Kali’s was a violent storm. Calm down, he whispered. The clearest sky always comes after the rain, so let go of the pain, let go of the hurt. And then he ordered gently: Sleep, now.
He retreated from her mind just in time to catch her as her body succumbed to exhaustion.
***
When Scott dived into Kali’s mind, Deucalion finally had the chance to observe him undisturbed. Objectively speaking, he was a handsome boy, with his olive skin, dark brown hair, and a lean but muscular build. Still, it wasn’t exactly the physical appearance that captivated Deucalion the most. It was his kindness, the warmth that the teen exuded with each word and gesture, the willingness to help everyone around him, even at his own expense, that made Deucalion want to be close to him, even though he knew that it was something that he couldn’t have.
Suddenly, Kali’s body went limp and Scott caught her before she crumbled to the floor.
Deucalion frowned and asked: “What’s wrong with her?”
“Nothing, she’s just asleep,” Scott assured him. “I didn’t remove the memory completely from her mind, since in the long run that would harm her more than help her, but I dulled it considerably, as if it were months since Ennis’ attack rather than two days.”
They moved the sleeping woman onto the couch, and were silent for a moment.
“Thank you for coming,” Deucalion said finally, not knowing what else to say, or maybe feeling too self-conscious to say it all.
Thank you for connecting with me, for being kind to me and my pack, as no one else has ever been, he wanted to say. Thank you for not treating me like a monster that I am, but as an actual, feeling human being.
But he didn’t say any of it.
"I wish I could stay longer but…" Scott looked at him apologetically.
"Your mom's probably already wondering where you are, I know," he nodded with understanding. However, thinking about the fact that the boy was young enough to still live with his mother was enough to make him feel like a pedophile.
He had always despised child molesters, thinking of them as the worst kind of filth. What an irony it was for him to fall in love with an underage boy! And yet… Scott didn't act like a kid, he was mature, responsible and thoughtful, as if he was an adult soul in a much too young body.
"Would you mind if my pack stayed in Beacon Hills a little longer?" he asked, trying to appear indifferent. "We're not planning to cause any more trouble, you have my word." He hoped that his word still held a meaning for the teen.
Scott's gaze was impossibly soft as he put his hand on Deucalion's calloused ones and squeezed them slightly. "As long as you're not threatening anyone, you're more than welcome to stay for as long as you wish."
"Be careful with your words or we might be tempted to stay here permanently," Deucalion said with a pretend amusement, trying to hide how much he yearned to finally stop being a nomad, never staying anywhere long enough to put down roots.
But to his surprise, Scott didn't smile or laugh at his words but instead said quietly: "I meant what I said. I've always dreamed of Beacon Hills being a safe place for all who wanted to find a refuge and a place to live. If it’s something you’d like as well, then stay, please, and make Beacon Hills your home."
Deucalion looked away, suddenly overwhelmed by emotions. To have a home… It was such a foreign notion, a desire long forgotten and buried deep inside his very soul. What was home? From his childhood he remembered a place smelling of freshly baked bread in the morning, and of lavender soap in the evening when everyone was getting ready to sleep. There was laughter, and joy to be found there. Where had it gone? When had he lost it all?...
Suddenly, he felt a gentle touch on his face, and he looked up only to meet Scott's worried gaze, his hand caressing Deucalion's cheek softly.
"Hey, is everything all alright?" the teen asked, his thumb making small circular motions on Deucalion's skin which turned out to be his undoing. He had swore to himself never to show how much the boy's presence affected him, but this sweet, lovely caress… He was defenseless against it.
He moved his head slightly, just enough to place the smallest of kisses on Scott's palm, a soft nuzzle of his mouth against the hand caressing his cheek. He heard a sharp intake of breath and he looked at the teen, whose eyes were wide with shock.
"I apologize, that was inappropriate," he forced himself to take a step back, creating more space between them. "It wasn't my intention to make you uncomfortable."
"Not uncomfortable, just… surprised," Scott said, his voice slightly breathy. Which told Deucalion precisely nothing how the teen felt about the kiss, since surprise could be pleasant but also anything but.
Scott's eyes darkened, his gaze turning intense and considering, and Deucalion fought an urge to fidget. He didn't think that the teen would reciprocate his feelings, but... he dearly hoped that Scott wasn't disgusted with him or found him repulsive, at the very least.
"That kiss, was it purely platonic?" Scott asked finally.
"The kiss - yes, but my feelings for you... are not, at least not entirely," he confessed. "But I wouldn't do anything that you feel uncomfortable with. You needn’t worry about me imposing on you in such a manner."
He would be damned if he added being a sexual abuser to the long list of his crimes. He might be ruthless, brutal, even cruel at times, but he had never molested anyone in his entire life, and he certainly didn’t plan on starting now. Besides, he would never abuse Scott’s trust for a few moments of physical pleasure.
“I’ve never thought of you… that way,” the teen said, almost apologetically, as if he was afraid of hurting Deucalion’s feelings.
He looked away, a dull pain throbbing in his chest.
“But it doesn’t mean that I don’t see the appeal, because I do. It’s just that… I don’t do casual relationships,” Scott continued. “I must be close to someone to be involved with them, and we barely know each other.”
Deucalion shook his head. “You don’t need to explain yourself, I promise to keep my feelings to myself.” He was grateful that Scott didn't shy away or was disgusted with him, but listening to this diplomatic, carefully worded rejection was more painful than it had any right to be.
“That wasn’t what I meant. I don’t want you to hide your emotions, I want a chance to get to know you better,” Scott said. As if making a decision, he took a step in Deucalion's direction, then placed a chaste kiss on his cheek, his lips feeling like a brush of butterfly's wings.
Such a subtle, sweet, wonderful torture, Deucalion thought in amazement. And even though he knew that it would end in inevitable heartbreak, he still said: "I’d like to get to know you better, too."
The radiant smile that he received in return made him yearn to see it again, everyday.
Notes:
Sooo, I wanted to write a chapter about the funeral and instead it somehow evolved into a romance... But I don't regret it. Somehow, I thought it fitting, since death reminds us about what is most important in life, and that is love.
Chapter 80
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Even as he was riding his bike on the way home, Scott was still in deep shock. Deucalion wanted him. Deucalion wanted him.
And yet, the man had retreated after that first, endearing hand kiss, as if prepared for an inevitable rejection. I promise to keep my feelings to myself, he had offered, as if they were shameful and vile. And yet, no one had ever kissed Scott with such adoration as Deucalion had, with such awe and longing which made his heart ache.
And it was only one innocent hand kiss! How would it feel to be kissed by Deucalion for real?... To feel his mouth and body pressed intimately to him?
He stopped the bike and breathed deeply. He needed to cool off, or he might drive into a car or wall without even noticing.
Earlier he had spoken the truth, he hadn't thought about Deucalion in a sexual or romantic way, at least not before today. But now, once the idea had sprouted in his mind, it began to grow and put down roots deep into his heart and thoughts to the point that he couldn't stop thinking about it. But it wasn't only sex, there was so much more on his mind that he needed to consider.
He had witnessed Deucalion's reaction as Scott allowed his pack to stay in Beacon Hills permanently, he had seen the raw desire in the man's eyes, the tentative, shy hope, and it resonated deeply with his own needs.
Nesting, Scott realized suddenly. He was feeling the urge to build a nest, a lair, a home of his own, not only his childhood house, but his own place in which he could live with his partner.
Such a desire in a teenage boy would be unheard of, but counting the years he had lived in the previous timeline he was actually very close to his thirties, so was it really that weird? And he didn't only want a place to call his own, he yearned to have someone to come back to, someone who would treasure a quiet evening together, and who would wake up beside him in the morning.
He wanted something serious. A commitment, perhaps. Love, if he was being entirely honest with himself, the kind of which everyone dreamed of but very few truly believed in. He wanted to be someone's everything, and give everything of himself in return. But the question remained: could Deucalion be that someone?
The potential was there, he realized, like a seed waiting to be planted and nourished. It would take an effort to make it grow, certainly, but everything worthwhile requires an effort. And considering the fact that it was Scott who put his hand on Deucalion's cheek first… He had already made the move in that direction, he just hadn't been aware of it at that time.
It had felt so easy, so natural to touch Deucalion, as if his hands had a mind of their own, and what they clearly wanted was skin on skin contact with the man. There was no hesitation, no conscious thought process involved, just a pure instinct. He wanted to be close to the man, he could tell that much. But would they be able to build a relationship despite their obvious differences?...
He didn't know, but he wanted to give it a try.
***
It was only a couple of days since she'd been bitten and Lydia was already exhausted.
Friday and Saturday nights had been quite unremarkable and she had almost convinced herself that the bite didn't take, as she couldn't feel any difference. However, since Sunday every time she closed her eyes she was troubled by dreams which almost felt too real but which she didn't know the meaning of. Visions of deep, thick darkness which encompassed the whole world and in the middle of it, a majestic tree, whose leaves were made of pure, green light. But unexplainably, each time a leaf fell to the ground she felt terror so intense that it caused her to wake up breathless and drenched in sweat.
She could tell that her mom was worried, but she couldn't risk telling her the truth about the supernatural world, not when her grandma was taken to the Eichen House for less. However, the very person who was responsible for her current predicament and who could tell her what was happening with her, was currently missing classes. Once he was back, she decided to have a lengthy discussion with Scott about her change into a Banshee, but for now there was nothing else that she could do beside gritting her teeth and trying not to fall asleep in the middle of classes.
She managed quite well the first couple of hours, but during the last class she felt her eyelids drooping despite her best efforts to stay awake. She felt herself falling asleep and it was a weird experience since she couldn't tell exactly when it happened. One moment she was awake, more or less at least, and the next she felt a strong arm grabbing her, stopping her from sliding off her chair.
"Lydia is feeling unwell, I'll take her home," she heard a familiar male voice saying to the teacher and she blinked, confused.
Why would Jackson want to help her? They had broken up, and not in a kind and respectful way either. But to her shock, her former boyfriend packed her things quickly, helped her up and led her outside.
"Come on, Lydia, I'll drive you home," he said quietly.
"No, don't," she mumbled. "Mom will be worried."
He bit his lip, then said: "Alright, let's go to my house, then."
It felt surreal, to be in his car once again. The feel and the smell of it was so familiar that she curled on the back seat, and she didn't try to fight her drowsiness any longer, her heart and mind finally at ease.
***
Jackson looked at the girl sleeping soundly on the back of his car, and he couldn't help but feel strangely protective of her. Usually, Lydia was so strong and independent that she made it seem like she didn't need anything or anyone, she was so self-reliant. But today it seemed like she had dropped all her masks and posturing and what was left was just… human.
He didn't think of her as his girlfriend, not anymore, but she was still someone who had stuck by him through thick and thin for several years now. Apart from Danny she was the person who knew him best, and even though he was trying to form new friendships now, he wasn't ready to write off his relationship with Lydia just yet, at least not without giving them one last chance to reconnect.
When he parked in front of the house, he hesitated for a moment. He hated to wake the girl up since it was glaringly obvious how much she needed rest. Still, sleeping in the car was probably far from comfortable, so he made the decision and he gently woke her up, watching as she blinked slowly, trying to get her eyes into focus.
"Come on, you'll sleep better in a bed," he said.
He was glad that his father was at work and his mom was doing shopping at the moment as no one stopped them on their way to his room. He helped Lydia to take off her shoes since her fingers fumbled clumsily with the shoelaces. She was fast asleep the moment her head hit the pillow and he covered her with a blanket.
He hesitated for a moment before he lay down beside her. This was the lesson that Scott had taught him, that the physical closeness didn't necessarily mean anything sexual. And while he didn't miss Lydia as his girlfriend, he did miss her as a person and one of his very few friends, so he embraced her loosely with his arm and stayed awake, guarding her sleep.
***
Once Lydia woke up, she became aware of the body lying beside her and a warm arm circling her waist. This room, this bed was so familiar that she felt slightly nostalgic at the thought. She turned around only to realize that Jackson was watching her with a small tilt to his lips, his eyes warm and unguarded. Without thinking, she placed a kiss on his mouth, only to be gently pushed away. She frowned, confused. If he didn’t want them to be making out, why was he lying beside her on the bed?
"Is this about our break up, about what we've said then?" she asked. "Because you gave as much as you got, so I think that we're even."
But he shook his head, surprising her even more.
"I don't want to be even, I want us to be better than that," he said. "But not as boyfriend and girlfriend, since we've been quite a toxic pair, don't you think? I don't want to get back to that."
"What- Since when are you talking about emotions?" she asked, honestly surprised. He had always avoided talking about his feelings and she'd long since stopped trying to get him to open up.
He grimaced. "Look, Lydia, I… I've changed, or at least I'm trying to."
"But not for me?" she asked challengingly.
"For myself… and for Scott," he admitted. "He wants me to stop drinking and acting like a jerk to everyone."
Wait, what Scott had to do with Jackson’s sudden change of heart? She looked at her former boyfriend, a sudden suspicion forming in her mind. "Are you-" she hesitated, remembering how violently he had always reacted to everything gay-related.
"Yeah. I think I like boys, if that's what you wanted to ask," he confessed quietly. "I know that it's unexpected but- I think it's what I've been trying to suppress all this time. Does it… bother you?"
Did it? she wondered. It probably should, since that would mean that for months she had been trying to salvage a relationship with a boy who wasn’t all that interested in her. So yes, just a few days ago she would have felt angry, disappointed and maybe even insulted by the fact that her former boyfriend turned about to be gay, or bi at the very least.
But now… she had been taken hostage by werewolves of all things, she had been bitten by one and was in the process of changing into something not entirely human, not to mention having strange visions of a giant magical tree. Somehow, Jackson being gay was the least of her problems. Also, it explained so many little details about him that she wondered why she hadn't ever suspected it.
"No, it's fine," she said finally. "I mean, it's- recent, you haven't been seeing other guys while being with me, right?"
He looked insulted at the mere suggestion. "Of course not!" he protested hotly.
"Good," she said with satisfaction. She could live with him realizing his sexual preference after they had broken up with each other, but she would have been furious if he had been cheating on her, with a girl or a boy, it didn't matter.
No one cheats on Lydia Martin, after all.
Notes:
I know that some of you expected an epic row between Lydia and Jackson, but after him being treated coldly by Danny I didn't have the heart to do that. Also, Lydia has so much on her mind right now.... So yeah, they're currently working on being friends again rather than losing their energy on yet another argument.
Chapter Text
Victoria gritted her teeth and tried to remain calm, which wasn't easy considering the circumstances. Her foolish, stubborn husband was rejecting all her attempts to make him see the reason when it came to Allison’s training.
"Chris, she's an Argent, you've always known that at some point she would have to start her training," she tried to reason with him. "Beacon Hills is currently overflowing with Alpha werewolves and next time she can't miss classes just because another pack appears in the town. She needs to know how to defend herself."
"You know perfectly well that the hunters' methods are far from defensive," he replied. "We're taught how to hunt and kill, and it's not a skill I'd like Allison to have. Change the training plan first and then I'll consider it."
She sighed, unsurprised but still disappointed with him. There was a time when he had been a werewolf hunter through and through, dedicated, ruthless and efficient, but he seemed to have mellowed with time. Or maybe, she thought bitterly, it was the result of that teen wolf's influence.
"You do realize that as the Argent's matriarch I could proceed with the training despite your objections," she reminded him.
He bristled instantly at the reminder of her rank. "Do that and I'll file for divorce," he threatened. "And then you won't be a matriarch any longer."
She gaped at him. "You can't be serious," she said weakly, and hating herself for showing how much his threat had shocked her.
"I'm deadly serious," he replied, cool and composed.
"You would write our marriage off just because you're suddenly questioning the hunters' rules? Does twenty years of being together mean nothing to you?" she asked.
He looked conflicted for a moment, but then he seemed to have gathered his resolve and said: "What do we have in common beside being parents to Allison, if we can't even agree on something as basic as telling right from wrong?"
"You and your bloody morals," she sneered, wanting to rile him up, but he only looked sad.
"What does it say about you, Victoria, that you scoff at me for trying to be a better person?"
"You've become weak, how's that any better?" she asked harshly, irritated by the turn their conversation has taken. "You're no longer the man that I married."
"And you’re no longer the woman I wish to remain married to," he replied curtly and turned around to leave.
"Where are you going?" she asked, her voice shaking a bit.
"To see my friends, if you even know what that means," he said and left, closing the front door quietly behind him.
Somehow, she would've felt better if he had slammed it.
***
When Chris went to his car he realized that he'd left his cell phone on the coffee table. Still, going back to the house was out of question, after everything that had been said… no.
He wished that it hadn't come to this discord between him and Victoria. He regretted the fact that they no longer knew how to talk with each other without arguing and ending up hurting one another. If communicating was a key to a successful relationship, then they had failed and still kept failing it spectacularly.
Still, once his eyes had been opened to the fact that werewolves were just like humans, good and bad and everything in between, he couldn't simply go back to his old mindset. There were things that couldn't be undone once they happened, and knowledge was one of them. He had changed and there was no going back to his old self. So where did that leave him?
He longed to have someone by his side who would help him achieve his goals and not drag him down as Victoria had been trying to do the last couple of weeks. He wanted to reach his full potential as a man and human being, and not let himself be caged within the narrow mindset of a werewolf hunter. He wished to be more than just that.
He rested his brow on the steering wheel, closing his eyes for a moment and trying to gather his thoughts. Going back to the house to get his phone was out of the question. Should he go to Scott without giving him a heads up? He didn't even know if the teen was at home, but he felt that he should check, at least. And if he didn't manage to catch him, maybe he could try going to Peter's apartment, next?
Decision made, he started the car and drove to the McCalls. Once he parked outside their house, he hesitated for a moment. What if his visit wasn't going to be well received? Well, there was no other way to find out than to actually go and check.
He knocked on the door and waited for a moment. Melissa opened the door with a surprised but kind smile.
"Hi Melissa, sorry to bother you but I actually forgot my cell phone and I wanted to talk with Scott. Is he home?"
"Hi Chris, no, he's not but he should be back soon. Do you want to come in and wait for him?" she asked.
"I don't want to impose-" he started declining when Peter joined Melissa in the doorway and Chris blinked, surprised at the sight of him.
"Nonsense, come on in, the more the merrier," the werewolf said with an easy smile and Chris allowed himself to be invited inside.
As they went into the living room, he couldn't help but notice how Peter's arm surrounded Melissa's waist loosely but possessively, and he felt his eyebrows raising in surprise.
"I see that congratulations are in order," he said, causing Melissa to blush.
"Thank you. It's a fairly new development but yes, we're dating," she admitted.
"Actually, I'd say that it's been a long time coming," Peter added with a wink. "So, Chris, how have you been?"
He almost replied automatically 'fine, thank you for asking', before he realized that he wasn't fine, far from it.
"Miserable," he confessed finally. "That's why I wanted to see Scott, not to burden him or anything," he assured them hastily, "just to… spend some time among friends, if it makes sense?"
"It makes perfect sense, it's what werewolves do when feeling down, we seek our packmates," Peter nodded with understanding.
Suddenly, Chris realized that the people that he was the closest to in Beacon Hills were werewolves. It seemed obvious, but only now he started to consider how could he be friends with them and still insist on calling himself a werewolf hunter?...
"I don't think that I want to be a hunter anymore," he blurted.
Peter blinked, surprised. "Honestly, that's music to my ears, but… I hope that you don't feel pressured by us to make that decision."
Chris recalled the time they had spent together, the full moon, the ridiculous but absolutely endearing cuddle time… It had changed him. It was still changing him.
"No, it's- as you've said before, it's been a long time coming," he admitted, feeling more certain of his choice. "But enough about me. I want to hear the story about you two dating. How? When?"
"What do you think, darling, should we reveal all the juicy details of our wild love affair?" Peter asked Melissa with a wink, causing her to giggle.
As they explained how they had been circling around each other for weeks, Chris felt honestly happy for them, but a not so small part of him envied them as well. Still, he didn't want to burden them with his own relationship troubles, so he smiled and encouraged them to continue their tale.
***
When Scott reached his home, he saw Chris' car parked nearby and he wondered if something had happened. He entered the house feeling slightly apprehensive and was pleasantly surprised at seeing his mom, Peter and Chris talking and laughing together, looking completely at ease with each other.
Yet, despite the fact that Chris was having a good time, he sensed an underlying pain and grief in him as well. Maybe it was due to the fact that he had known him for around a decade now, but the deep lines around his mouth and the dimmed twinkle in his normally bright blue eyes told him more about Chris' state of mind than his wide smile.
"Hi," he greeted, drawing their attention.
"Sweetheart, Chris came to see you," his mom said.
He nodded in acknowledgement, and promptly put his arms around the man, hugging him tightly. "Whatever happened, I'm here for you," he whispered into his ear.
"How did you… ?" Chris murmured, surprised.
"I know you, and I can tell that you're hurting," Scott explained gently. "So, the lake?" he suggested, and the man nodded a bit hesitantly, making Scott wish that they had a pack bond through which he could send Chris some warmth and care. As it was, the only thing that he could do was to hug him and show him that he wasn't alone. However, judging by the way Chris' muscles relaxed in his embrace, the method was working splendidly.
“Mom, we’re going out,” he announced once he released the man.
“Are you sure? After such a difficult day…” his mom hesitated.
“Mom, I’ll be fine. Spending time with the people I care about is exactly what I need right now,” he assured her. “Don’t worry about me, alright?”
“I’ll always worry, that’s what mothers do,” she said with a sad smile but allowed him to go.
Chapter 82
Notes:
Today my part of the city was evacuated because of the misfire found in the nearby contruction site. It turned out to be a 250 kg bomb from WWII which was buried under the ground until now... Several streets (including mine) had to be evacuated as the sappers and the police transported it to a firing ground. Thankfully, nothing happened and no one was hurt but... Let's say that it inspired me ;)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
As they went to the car, Scott observed Chris carefully. The man seemed tired and weary, but not grieved or in despair, so Scott assumed that whatever was troubling him it wasn't anything that required immediate action. Also, there was something different about his looks?... It took a moment before Scott realized what it was.
"You've grown a beard," he blurted. It had been such an obvious part of Chris' looks in his previous life that it seemed so very familiar to Scott, but in this life it was quite a significant change.
Chris chuckled as he took the driver's seat. "Took you quite a while to notice that," he commented wryly.
"It looks so natural on you that at first I couldn't pinpoint what has changed with the way you look," Scott said sheepishly, then added: "It suits you."
"I've always wanted to have a beard, but Victoria never liked it, so…" Chris' smile disappeared from his face.
"Oh," Scott murmured, suddenly suspecting what had caused his friend to be so beaten down. "Are you having relationship problems?" he asked softly.
Chris drove for a long moment in silence and Scott didn't try to push him. Finally, the man asked: "Are you sure that you want to hear about it? I know that you're a remarkably mature for your age, but-" he trailed off.
"-but I don't know a thing about marriage?" Scott finished the sentence for him. "That's true, and I'm certainly not a therapist, but I've been told that I'm a good listener and maybe it's something that you need, to simply get it out of your system."
"I don't want to burden you with my troubles," Chris protested half-heartedly.
"That's what friends do for each other, offer a willing ear and a shoulder to lean on," Scott reminded him gently. "And it works both ways, since I can count on you too."
"Speaking of which, how's your love life?" Chris asked uncertainly. "If you don't mind me asking, of course."
"Well, I might have found someone, but it's too early to tell yet," Scott admitted, ducking his head in embarrassment, though a small smile appeared on his lips.
Chris parked and they got out of the car. "Is it a boy or a girl?" he asked curiously.
"Definitely a he," Scott answered, not feeling comfortable with calling Deucalion a 'boy'.
"I'm happy for you," Chris said honestly, circling Scott's shoulders with his arm. "I know that breaking up with Isaac wasn't the easiest for you, so I'm glad that you managed to get over it."
They sat on their favourite bench and Scott sighed. "Well, heartbreak is never easy, but it's not like we argued, right? We've remained close to each other, and I just want Isaac to be happy, even if that means we're not together anymore."
Chris' face fell a bit as he said: "I wish I could say the same about me and Victoria. Recently no matter what we do, we keep hurting one another."
"You can tell me about it, if you wish," Scott offered. "But if you'd rather not, that’s fine, we could just spend some time together."
Chris rubbed his face tiredly. "It's just that- she makes me feel... inadequate, like I'm lacking whatever qualities she seeks in men. And yet what she wants is not something that I feel comfortable with. Does it even make sense?" he asked, frustrated.
"It does," Scott assured him. "It sounds as if your own needs are at odds with her expectations. But what does she want from you?"
"Ever since I met you, my views of the werewolves have changed… and she wants me to stay the same as I was before. But I don't think that I could go back to that even if I wanted to, which I don't," Chris admitted.
"Did you tell her that?" Scott asked curiously.
"I tried, but she's so blinded and stubborn I just couldn't get through to her," Chris said, disheartened, his shoulders sagging wearily.
"Hey, don't beat yourself about it," Scott rebuked him gently, taking his hands and squeezing them comfortingly. "All you can do is try to express your thoughts and feelings to Victoria. If she doesn't want to listen, then there's nothing more that you can do."
Chris looked at their joint hands and asked quietly: "How pitiful it is that you and your pack are the only people beside Allison who ever touch me?"
"If it makes you uncomfortable…"
"No, that's the thing, I don't want to give it up," Chris confessed, looking slightly embarrassed. "It makes me feel…"
"Appreciated? Cared for?" Scott suggested softly.
"Yes," Chris said simply. "And I wonder why it can't be that way with Victoria. Why something as simple as physical affection has to be a struggle with her?"
"If she associates touch and feelings with weakness, the more she's trying to be strong, the less approachable she might appear," Scott hazarded a guess.
"That sounds exactly like her," Chris admitted, when out of the corner of his eye he caught a flick of a light, as if the sun was reflected in glass or lenses… He reacted instinctively, pushing Scott from harm's way when a bullet shot through the air and tore through his own body.
***
Victoria wasn't an Argent matriarch for nothing. She might not be as strong or skilled as her husband, but she wasn't the brains of the family without a reason. Ever since that young werewolf had wrapped Chris around his finger, she had been tracking her husband's comings and goings and made a list of the locations he visited frequently. So when he'd said that he was going to visit his so called friends, she could quite accurately predict where she could find him.
Still, knowing where he was gave her no insight on how she should act now. If Chris had been manipulated to the point that he actually considered a divorce, that was worrying indeed. She knew her husband; the old Chris would have never considered tearing their family apart, not for anything, as it was the single most important thing for him. So if he had been ready to divorce her for a werewolf of all things, she needed to face the truth that he was compromised, and act accordingly. And that meant: eliminating the threat to their family.
She didn't have any illusions that she could take on a werewolf - even a young one - in a close proximity as they were faster and stronger than any man, much less a woman. Still, she had the advantage of training, and most importantly, having the means to kill even the strongest of those beasts. The Argents weren't weapon dealers for nothing, after all. Glad to be in action rather than just sitting around uselessly, she picked up a rifle from their weaponry, deciding on Desert Tech SRS for its light weight and bullpup design, in addition to a long range. Plus wolfsbane bullets, of course.
She guessed that her foolish husband would visit the nearby lake as he had done this a couple of times already, so she parked her car far enough not to cause him to become suspicious and hid in the woods, hoping that her hunch was right. After less than an hour she saw Chris' car and she sneered, how utterly predictable…
When he and that werewolf sat down on a bench, she observed them through the lens of her rifle scope. The teen seemed so unthreatening, so harmless, that she almost lost her resolve. However, when he and Chris started to hold hands, she felt her blood boiling. If that slut of a boy had seduced her husband, he didn't deserve to live, and Victoria would gladly put him down like an animal that he was. With a grim satisfaction she aimed and pulled the trigger.
Her triumph was short lived, though, as Chris pushed the werewolf to the side and took a bullet into his own upper torso.
Her eyes opened wide in shock. The rifle fell to the ground with a loud thud as she muffled a cry with shaking hands. She ran to him, but stopped dead in her tracks at seeing angry red eyes of an enraged Alpha werewolf.
"Stay away from him or I swear I'll tear you to pieces," the teen growled, extracting his claws in one swift motion.
"We need to get him to the hospital!" she insisted, feeling strangely detached at seeing her husband half lying on the bench, his face pale and clammy from pain and shock.
I did this. I did this, she repeated in her head with disbelief.
The werewolf ignored her and turned to Chris, instead. "Do you trust me?"
Her husband only nodded.
"Okay, this is going to hurt, but I have to get the bullet out," with these words the boy pushed his claws deep into the injury, causing Chris to moan and thrash weakly in his hold, his face changing colour from pale to ashen.
"Just a moment longer, I almost have it- yes!" Scott said in triumph, pulling the bullet out and dropping it to the ground, then placed his hands on the bleeding wound. "Does it feel warm?"
"Hot," Chris gasped. "What are you-"
"I'm healing you, you stupid, reckless, hot-headed idiot! What were you thinking, taking a bullet for me? I'm a werewolf, I have a higher chance of surviving the shot than you!" the boy ranted.
"It was an instinct," Chris said weakly. "I don't ever want to see you hurt."
To her surprise, the boy sniffled and said in a quivering voice: "I don't want to see you hurt either, so next time could you please not put yourself in harm's way?"
Once Chris' injury was healed by whatever weird True Alpha powers the teen possesed, the both of them embraced tightly and Victoria felt so very awkward, useless and out of place. This was her husband and yet she was forced to watch him being hugged by another… And it pained her more than she would have expected.
Notes:
I promise that this is the last time Scott heals anyone in quite a while, he seriously needs a break...
Chapter 83
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
After double checking that Chris was going to be fine, Scott turned around to look at Victoria. For the first time he saw her so ruffled and uncertain, as if her whole world crumbled around her.
He breathed deeply when the realization that she had tried to kill him - again - sank deep into his very bones and filled him with hatred. Not of Victoria, no, that would have been easy but rather short sighted. He despised the system which had moulded her, the whole organization of hunters that excused, even legitimized murder just because of someone's supernatural origin.
This was his true enemy: the entire generations of hunters taught that they were above law and morality just because their targets weren't human. If this wasn't racism and xenophobia, he didn't know what was. And no matter his own hurt he couldn't lose the sight of his true task, and that was preventing an all-out war between humans and werewolves while protecting his pack to the best of his abilities.
He took a step closer to the woman and saw how she stiffened but straightened her back, tilting her chin up proudly, and he wondered. "Why do you feel proud?" he asked, almost curiously. "You almost killed your own husband while trying to murder a teenager. How can you even look me in the eye without feeling shame?"
"I'm proud because I do my duty, I protect my family, not that you would know what that means," she sneered at him. "I regret nothing."
He was dumbfounded, the depth of her hatred truly astounded him.
"What did you try to protect our family from? Scott was doing nothing wrong!" Chris got up from the bench still looking pale, but if it was from his earlier injury or from disgust at his wife's words, Scott couldn't say.
Both, probably.
"Nothing wrong? He's stealing you away from me!" Victoria cried out. "Don't think I didn't see how he leeches at you, the way he touches you, it's… foul, and disgusting!"
Chris' jaw dropped at her reply.
Scott laughed bitterly, he couldn't help it. All that had happened, was because of her jealousy? "I didn't steal your husband. You drove him away with your close mindedness and lack of compassion. And whatever dirty images your mind has come up with, it's not true. Chris is my friend, nothing less but also nothing more."
He looked at the man who had been there for him, in both his lives, who just a moment before had taken a bullet to his chest - for him, and he couldn't help but be grateful for Chris' presence in his life.
"Victoria… you can't hurt people just because they're close to me," Chris said once he recovered from his shock. "Even if Scott and I were involved, which we're not, that still wouldn't give you the right to try to kill him," he tried to explain as if he was talking to a small child who can’t tell right from wrong yet.
"But- he's just a werewolf. The world would be better off without the likes of him," Victoria replied as if it was obvious, and Scott closed his eyes in despair. It was always the same: stupid, blind, mindless hatred which turned people into monsters without them even noticing it. This was his true enemy, and it finally showed its ugly face.
"I can't even- I don't have words to describe how wrong you are," Chris said mournfully.
For a moment they just looked at each other, a woman and a man living together for years and yet not truly knowing each other at all, they were so far from understanding one another.
Finally, Chris looked at him: "Scott, it's you she was trying to hurt, how do you want to approach this?"
Victoria started protesting but her husband only said lowly, dangerously: "You just tried to kill him, so just- don't say a word."
Scott didn't reply at once but looked at his would-be murderer and wondered how he wanted to punish her, and to what purpose. Sure, he desired retribution, but he didn't need it. And seeing the pained grimace on Chris' face he knew that any kind of revenge, while well-deserved, would only hurt him.
No, what he really wanted was to deter Victoria from attacking any werewolf without provocation ever again. Also, for Chris' sake he hoped that she could change and become a better person, but he wasn't going to hold his breath waiting for that to happen. Usually he was an optimist but he needed to be realistic here, if she had tried to kill him twice already it might be because that was in her nature, and he had learned from his encounters with Gerard to be wary of that.
"I want her to be put on trial," he finally said.
"It's ridiculous!" Victoria scoffed. "Chris, you can't seriously consider-"
Chris clenched his jaw and ignored her as he spoke: "Scott, I know that it's only fair and she deserves this, but- is there no other way out of this? I'd hate to involve the police."
"You misunderstood me, I don't mean the human authorities, I have no wish for the ordinary people to learn about our world, which might happen if we took this to court. In fact, I'd do everything to avoid that. No, I meant asking someone neutral and unbiased to judge her," Scott explained.
"Who do you have in mind?" Chris asked, intrigued.
"Araya Calavera."
Both Argents looked at him incredulously.
"What? It's perfectly logical once you think about it," Scott defended his choice. "She follows the Code and is widely recognized as a devoted hunter. No one could ever accuse her of being in cahoots with a werewolf, so her judgement will be completely unbiased."
"And if she says that I was right in trying to protect my family, what would you do then?" Victoria asked.
"I will accept it and not seek revenge," Scott said calmly.
"Fine, then. There's no way that Araya would ever take a werewolf's side," Victoria laughed, her eyes gleaming with triumph, thinking that she already won.
Scott decided not to comment on that and turned to Chris, instead. "Will you contact the Calaveras?"
"Of course," Chris nodded. "But… are you sure that this is what you wish? I'm grateful, make no mistake, but any other werewolf would want to see Victoria dead."
"Knowing that it would hurt you and Allison? No, it's not something I'd consider unless there was no other choice," Scott said grimly.
The man exhaled deeply and nodded. "Thank you."
Scott smiled warmly at him. "No, thank you, for everything. And now, let's make sure that there are no signs of the shooting around here. I really don't want to attract anyone's attention."
***
When Chris offered to drive him home, Scott declined. The wolf inside him was unsettled and was growling angrily, so he needed to blow off some steam before he could even think about going home.
He ran through the woods aimlessly, allowing the steady tempo of the run to calm him down gradually. There was a small part of him that wanted to kill Victoria Argent for what she'd almost done, twice. But he hadn't lied to Chris, his desire to protect his friends would always trump whatever thirst for revenge he felt.
Suddenly, the ground trembled slightly beneath his feet and he felt a strange tug, as if a string was tied to his very soul and it was now being yanked, not strongly enough to cause him anything more than a minor discomfort, but still insistent to the point that he decided to follow the tug without resistance.
Normally, he would fight an unknown power trying to force him into doing anything. This time, however, he felt the telluric currents underneath him pulsing with power each time he was yanked, so he knew that whoever was summoning him, they were either a druid or some kind of a supernatural creature capable of tapping into the ley lines. He only hoped that it wasn't the Darach, because he didn't know what he would do if he was to meet Jennifer so soon.
Still, he wasn't overly surprised to be pulled all the way to the Nemeton's stump. The person summoning him was somewhat unexpected, though.
"Ms Morrell," he greeted once he slowed down his jog and stopped in front of the woman. "I must admit, I didn't expect to see you here."
"And yet, here we are," she said with an enigmatic smile. "I wondered if my ritual would work, though. Call it an experiment, if you will."
"I'm not exactly thrilled to be a guinea pig," he said with growing irritation. "Does your brother know of this… experiment of yours? Does Deucalion?"
"I don't answer to either of them, Deucalion especially. I'm his emissary, not a servant," she said haughtily.
He snorted, he was so done with her attitude. The last several days had been exhausting, he had protected the Dunbars, healed Deucalion, saved Matt from the Eichen House, went to Meredith's funeral, helped to dull Kali's memories and to top it all, he'd almost been shot. His patience was almost non existing and all of his pent up anger and irritation boiled inside of him.
"I don't have the energy nor the patience to play your games," he said, his eyes glinting dangerously. "Either tell me what you summoned me for, or I'm going home."
"I wanted to see if my predictions are correct," she said mysteriously, which was not helpful at all, so Scott growled warningly. She sighed and asked: "Have you ever heard the legend about the Royal Alpha?"
Scott frowned. This was… something entirely new to him. "I can't say that I have," he said slowly, quickly going through all of his memories, but he didn't have any recollection of that.
"You're telling the truth," she sucked in her breath in shock. "You truly have no idea what you are, don't you?"
"Tell me, then," he demanded.
And she did.
Notes:
If you thought that I already have enough of the story threads loose and awaiting closure, well... I just keep adding to them on purpose.
Chapter 84
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"There is a legend among the druids about a time when emissaries will fail in their mission to guide the werewolves, and they in return will cease to listen to our advice." Marin started her tale. "The legend speaks of a time of great strife between the packs and their emissaries, and of discord among the werewolf packs. Sounds quite familiar, doesn't it?"
Scott frowned. "Too familiar, I'd say," he said grimly.
Never before had the relations between the werewolves and the emissaries been so tense and unfriendly, bordering on hostile, as it was now. Jennifer hadn’t been wrong about the fact that the massacre committed by the Alpha pack on the druids was a black page in the werewolves' history, and yet it was a crime that was overlooked and forgotten by most.
"The myth also speaks of a powerful Alpha who will rise amongst his kind to unite them," Marin continued, "a werewolf able to wield the powers previously unheard of… including making and unmaking of Alpha werewolves. The legend calls him the Royal Alpha."
"So when you saw me taking away Ennis' power and giving it to Peter..."
"I knew immediately that I've made a colossal mistake," Marin confessed, looking tired and disheartened. "For years I've been observing the rivalry between the packs and the growing mistrust towards the emissaries, so when Deucalion started to create his Alpha Pack I thought- I deluded myself that he could be the werewolf that the legend speaks of."
"That's why you stayed by his side even when he started decimating other packs," Scott realized suddenly.
"I admit that at first I bought into his propaganda of cleaning the packs of the weak and unworthy. But the killings never stopped which made me realize that he couldn’t be-" she trailed off for a moment. “That he’s not the one that I was looking for.”
He wondered for a moment how he should react to all these revelations. He didn't know Marin that well, nor did he trust her. She always seemed to have her own agenda and never revealed anything unless it benefitted her in some way. Which made him think: why was she so open with him? Why now?
"Why are you telling me this?" he asked finally.
"I want you to know that I'm on your side, that I can help you become the leader that you're meant to be," she said with a smile, but he was wary of it as her eyes remained impassive and calculating.
"What about Deucalion?" he eyed her carefully, trying to gauge her intentions. "Are you still loyal to him?"
"I've invested a lot of time and energy into his pack, but no more," she replied. "I want a new start with an Alpha worth my attention… someone like you," she added meaningfully.
He shook his head with a mix of contempt and pity. "Did you really think that I'd be grateful and thrilled that you're ready to jump ship just because you came across a shiny new toy to play with? If that's what you thought, then it proves how little you know about me."
Her smile faded and she finally looked at him.
"Tell me then, show me who you really are.”
He bit his lip, undecided. Finally, he asked: "When was the last time you talked with Deucalion?"
"When he kidnapped your friends and you tricked him into that vow of yours, I've been busy doing research ever since. Why?" she asked, surprised.
"Then go and see him, because he's the living proof of what kind of a person I am," he instructed. "And Marin? Don't ever summon me again like you did today. If you want to talk with me, come to me, not the other way around. I’m not a dog to be called to your side." He walked away, not giving her a chance to respond.
He really needed to talk with Deaton soon. He had the feeling that what Marin had just told him was either a fake, or a very simplified, stripped-down version of the true legend, and as he knew per experience, the devil's in the details.
***
When he returned home, Peter was still there, lounging with Melissa leisurely on the sofa, his arm circling her shoulders. Scott was genuinely happy that they seemed to finally get together. After everything that Peter had gone through, he deserved every bit of happiness in his life, and so did Melissa.
All the years of being a single mom with no man in her life weren't kind to her, he knew that. The last couple of years she had been incessantly tired and easily irritated, as if she had been constantly on edge. Scott had tried to take some of that weight off her shoulders by working in the animal clinic, but he was a teenage boy and that meant constantly getting into trouble and doing all kinds of stupid stunts. How had she managed to deal with all of that without having a nervous breakdown, he didn't have a clue.
Speaking of getting into trouble, how was he going to tell her that he'd almost got shot today?... Trying not to think about it too much, he wiggled into the space between his mom and Peter, causing them to laugh.
"How was your afternoon with Chris?" his mom asked curiously.
"It was nice enough… until someone interrupted us," he said vaguely, his muscles tensing up at the memory.
"What happened?" Peter asked, his eyes flashing a blood-red light for a split second, reacting instinctively to Scott's distress.
Scott shook his head. He didn't want to spoil their time together, he wanted them to remain happy and carefree, even if for this one evening. They deserved a break from the craziness that was his life.
"It's- Look, I really don't want to tell this several times, I think we might need to organize regular pack meetings to keep everyone in the know. Just, trust me that everyone's fine at the moment, alright?" Scott asked pleadingly.
Peter frowned unhappily as he said: “Don’t think that’s the end of it, we’re going to drill you about this later,” but he conceded and didn't press further.
"Got it. Now hug me properly, the both of you," Scott demanded, causing his mom and Peter to tighten their hold on him. He felt his mom running her fingers through his hair, and he sighed into Peter's chest happily, enjoying the feeling of having his family close to him.
***
Later in the evening Isaac came to his room, knocking quietly on the door.
"Hi," the boy said quietly.
"Hey, come on in," Scott invited him inside. "How was your day at school?"
"Allison was back and we've finally got a chance to spend some time together, so that's the good part," the blond boy said as he sat on the bed. "But everyone missed you… Jackson included, which took me by surprise. He even asked about you."
Scott instantly felt guilty. "I didn't want to neglect you guys, it's just that… the last couple of days were so busy for me it's insane, so many things happened in that short period of time that you won't believe me when I tell you about it."
"But you will? Tell me about what's going on in your life, I mean," Isaac asked uncertainly.
"Sure, I just want to wait 'till we're all gathered together," Scott assured him. "But believe me, it's one hell of a tale."
"Of course it is, it's you we're talking about," Isaac said with a wry smile, and Scott shoved him on the shoulder playfully.
"Oi, I resent that thought," he protested. "I can have a perfectly ordinary day, you know."
"Sure you can," Isaac patted his arm patronizingly.
Soon their banter escalated into a pillow fight and both boys gave as good as they got, causing the pillow feathers to fly furiously around them. When they finally plopped onto the bed, tired but happy, Scott snuggled into his friend's side with a contented smile.
"Thank you, I needed that," he said gratefully. "I'm glad that you're living with us, that we can be a family."
"I think I needed it too," Isaac said as he curled up beside him. "You've been so focused lately, and at the same time you weren’t quite here, as if your mind was somewhere far away, if you know what I mean? So I wasn't sure if something’s changed between us."
"Of course not!" Scott assured him vehemently, hugging him close. Isaac would always be a part of his pack, werewolf or human, it didn't really matter.
He eyed the boy thoughtfully, taking in his messy, slightly curly blond hair, the pale, unblemished skin and shining blue eyes, and he realized that he no longer desired him, not even a little bit. This chapter of his life was now permanently closed, and somehow the thought wasn't as painful as he expected it to be. They've broken up and yet here they were, still close to each together, still caring for one another.
He realized with a sudden clarity that he was now truly, fully able to put their failed relationship behind him, and just enjoy their friendship.
"So, about Allison, how's the progress on that front?" he asked with a wink.
Isaac looked at him through his ridiculously long lashes. "Are you really offering to listen to me droning about how beautiful and witty she is?"
"I do," Scott said honestly. "Go on, I want to hear all about it."
"Well, if you’re sure… I asked her on a date, and she said yes," Isaac said with a shy smile. "We're going out on Saturday-"
Scott listened to his friend as he fretted over what he should wear and what’s the best place to take a girl on a first date, and he smiled so widely it almost hurt.
Notes:
Yup, there are some small things happening off-screen, like Isaac asking Allison out, since I decided not to write about each and every detail that's going on in everyone's lives.
Next: Scott's back at school!
Chapter Text
Return to school was, surprisingly, like coming home. The familiarity of it and the friendly hellos from the people around him lifted Scott’s mood instantly. He might not be a teenager inside, but seeing all his friends more than made up for having to repeat the high school again.
"If you'll miss any more classes I'm going to sic my dad on you," Stiles warned him after clapping his shoulder in greeting and nodding to Isaac who was walking a step behind Scott.
"No need," Scott assured him. "I already promised my mom to catch up on all the assignments." He didn't need the Sheriff's attention on top of that.
"You better," Stiles grumbled, but a twinkle in his eyes betrayed how happy he was to see his friend again. The feeling was fully reciprocated, so Scott swung his arm around him and pulled him close, placing a big, messy kiss on his cheek, causing Stiles to splutter in shock.
"Gerroff me, you oaf!" the teen complained, wiping his cheek exaggeratedly. "Jeez, find yourself someone else to molest, I'm sure there are plenty of people out there who would appreciate it more than I."
Isaac snickered loudly, and in that moment they were joined by Lydia and Jackson.
"Did I hear you talking about sex?" Lydia asked with her eyebrow raised. "Why wasn't I invited?"
The boys gaped at her in shock.
"Never mind that, your open mouths are quite off-putting and not sexy at all," she said dismissively, flipping hair over her shoulder. "Now, let's go to classes, but we'll need to chat later. Someone owes us an explanation," she added, eyeing Scott meaningfully.
"I know, I know," he nodded his assent.
"Has anyone seen Allison?" Isaac asked suddenly, looking around. After a moment he located her as she got out of her car and jogged to join them.
"Good, I made it on time," she sighed with relief, giving Isaac a quick peck on the lips, then she realized that Scott was present and she fidgeted uneasily. "Um, Scott…"
He didn't let her finish as he gathered them both into a big bear hug. "You don't have to hold back with kisses and such on my account, I'm fine with it," he assured them.
"Are you sure?" Allison asked worriedly. "If it makes you uncomfortable-"
"Not at all," he told her sincerely. "I'm happy for the both of you. But you better give Isaac a proper kiss, or I'll do it," he joked then winked at her. Apparently Allison took the threat quite seriously as she pulled Isaac into an intense snog, to which the group reacted with snickers and impressed whistles.
Suddenly, the school bell rang and they went to the classroom hurriedly. Happy reunions or not, better not to test the teacher's patience.
***
Boyd might not be a particularly social person, but he took his friendships seriously, rare as they were (and no, he wasn't bitter about it, it's just how the things were and he'd long since accepted it).
When Scott had missed classes on Monday, he noticed the fact but didn't think twice about it, but when he also didn't show up the next day, Boyd started to worry. He cursed the fact that he didn't belong to Scott's group, as he didn't feel comfortable approaching them and asking when the boy would be back.
His friendship with Scott was a weird one. Their meetings were spontaneous and quite irregular, but when they saw each other, they somehow… clicked. They didn't feel the need to explain themselves or apologize for not keeping in touch for a week or two, as neither needed an additional source of pressure or guilt. Boyd was well acquainted with guilt and he didn't need more of it in his life, thank you very much.
That's why what Scott had offered him - a friendship without strings attached and without any expectations - was such a perfect fit for him. He could be himself without worrying about breaking some social rules that he didn't know of or didn't care for. Scott had always seemed to understand that without words, as if befriending socially awkward loners and outcasts such as Boyd was something he did on a daily basis. And who knows, maybe he did?...
When Scott finally appeared in the school on Wednesday, he was surrounded by a tight circle of friends which made it nearly impossible to catch him alone. Finally, Boyd realized that waiting for that to happen was rather futile and if he wanted to talk to him, he needed to approach the whole group. It wasn't an ideal solution, and considering Boyd's introverted nature it was very far from perfect, but needs must. That's why during the lunch break he breathed deeply, grabbed his food trail and approached Scott's table.
"Hi," he said hesitantly, while inside he cursed the fact that he didn't know how to interact with people.
The strawberry blond beauty looked at him as if he was something smelly that stuck to her designer shoes, and she didn't even try to hide her distaste at his presence.
"Lydia," Scott chided her quietly, that one word conveying his displeasure better than an angry tirade, and the girl immediately looked abashed and muttered ‘sorry’ under her breath.
Satisfied, Scott looked at him and said with a smile: "Hi Boyd, what's up?"
"You missed classes," Boyd said awkwardly, and grimaced at his own words. He meant them as a tentative question if everything was alright, but somehow he ended up sounding accusatory.
Thankfully, Scott had an uncanny ability to read between the lines and to interpret Boyd's words exactly as they were intended, and he said calmly: "Yeah, I needed to go to a funeral, but I'm fine now."
Shit, a funeral. It was just his luck to stumble into such a delicate topic… "I'm sorry," Boyd muttered. It was both 'I'm sorry for your loss' as well as 'sorry for asking'.
"It's alright," Scott said kindly. "Do you want to sit with us?"
Did he? Judging by the mix of confused and irritated glances that Scott's group was giving him, it probably wasn't the best idea.
“It might be awkward, since you know me but your friends don't," he deflected the question.
"They'll come around, no worries, but I get your point," Scott nodded with understanding. "Next time, then?"
"Yeah, next time," Boyd exhaled with both disappointment and relief, but if he was being honest with himself, the relief was much stronger at the moment. "I'm glad that you're back,” he added sincerely.
Scott beamed at him. "Thanks, it's good to be back."
Mission completed, Boyd turned around and walked back to his table. Maybe, at some point, he'll decide to take Scott up on his offer and join his circle of friends… But not today.
***
"Who was that?" Isaac blurted.
"Vernon Boyd, he's a loner and a weirdo to the boot," Stiles answered while munching on his fries.
"Who also happens to be my friend, so once he decides to join us, at least give him a chance, please," Scott sighed. "Look, I know that Boyd is not exactly a social butterfly, but he's a good guy. And with the exception of Jackson and Lydia we aren't exactly the most popular either."
"So what you're saying is that us nerds should stick together?" Stiles snorted.
"Yeah, something like that," Scott nodded.
He knew that his circle of friends was like a patchwork, it was so varied, and yet he considered their diversity as quite an advantage. Back in his first life he had always been impressed by the multitude of ideas and solutions his pack was able to come up with even in a short period of time. Admittedly, many of those ideas were crazy or not feasible (or both), but the point was: their different backgrounds and personalities were an asset, not a hindrance.
"Whatever you say, buddy," Stiles agreed easily. "If he's your friend then he must have some redeeming qualities."
Scott just rolled his eyes at him.
"Is he, you know, like you?" Jackson asked curiously.
"No, he's not even aware of the supernatural world yet," Scott explained. "But I’ll definitely tell him about it at some point, maybe even consider giving him a bite, if that’s something he’d want.”
Jackson scowled unhappily. "Hey, I was first in line!"
"Easy, it's not a race or a competition," Scott cautioned him.
When he had been bitten (especially the first time) it was involuntary and quite a shock to his body and senses. He also recalled how long Liam had struggled with his wolf nature and how hard it had been for the boy to accept the fact that he was no longer a human. After that, Scott fully believed that this kind of life-altering decision shouldn't be made lightly or on a whim.
"Am I the only person here who doesn't want to be a werewolf?" Isaac asked incredulously.
"Even if I wanted to, I can't, my parents would never agree to that," Allison reminded him. "It's bad enough that they argue all the time now, and yesterday was the worst. It was the first time I heard my dad shouting at anyone… It was awful."
Scott asked worriedly: "Did they tell you why they were arguing?"
"No, but I was able to hear your name mentioned several times, so I guess it was about the werewolves again," she admitted.
Scott frowned. He hated the thought that Allison would be the most affected by her parents' falling out, but that was the truth. He wondered for a moment if he should tell her what her mother had attempted to do. On one hand, it was bound to hurt the girl, maybe even damage her relationship with Victoria beyond repair, and he dearly wished it could be avoided. On the other hand, truth always comes to the light, and he'd rather Allison heard about Victoria's deeds from him or Chris, rather than from someone else.
"Actually, it's a part of my story, so maybe we'll all go to my house after classes?" he suggested and they all nodded eagerly. “I have so much to tell you guys.. Be prepared to come back home late, it’s not a short tale, just so you know.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Stiles drawled, and Scott smacked him on the arm, causing the boy to protest loudly: "Ouch, what was that for?"
Their friends just laughed at them.
Chapter Text
Scott wondered how he should go about their meeting today. While it was good to have all his teenage friends gathered together, he still felt that it wasn't enough. He didn't want to divide his pack into an older and younger generation and keep their meetings separate; ultimately, they needed to become familiar with each other and start to trust one another.
It was finally time to unite his pack, he realized. Well, maybe with the exception of Liam, as his pup had barely learned that werewolves exist and he wasn't familiar even with the basics of the supernatural world, so he wouldn't understand a majority of topics that Scott wanted to touch on. But even excluding Liam, he still wanted Derek, Peter and Chris to be present.
He quickly texted the werewolves, letting them know of his plan to have a kick-off pack meeting in the afternoon and they replied that they'll be there. That left Chris, and to be honest, Scott was a little hesitant to approach him about this. Sure, the man had proved that he truly cared about him, putting Scott's well-being above his own and even above his marriage with Victoria. Still, he wasn't sure if that meant that Chris wanted to be considered a McCall pack's ally, or only Scott's friend, without any ties to the rest of the pack. He couldn't just assume, he needed to ask Chris about this.
Hi, I'm meeting today with my pack and friends to discuss some important topics. Do you want to be included? he texted him, then added: Just a fair warning, I'd ask you not to reveal anything of what you'll hear to other hunters. So, interested?
He drummed his fingers nervously on the table while waiting for a reply. What if Chris declined? What if the man decided that he had enough of the troubles that his association with Scott had brought into his life? Maybe he was tired of it already. Maybe-
Finally, the phone beeped, and he quickly read Chris' message, short as it was. Are you sure that you want me there?
Of course, he texted back. You have long since proved to be my friend, but I wasn't sure if that extended to my pack as well.
After another long moment he received Chris' message: If you want me to, I'll be there. And don't worry about me revealing anything to other hunters, nowadays I barely even feel like one.
Scott smiled widely. Brilliant, let's meet in my house around 4:30 PM. He hesitated for a moment, then added: And Chris? Don't let being a hunter define you, you're much more than that.
Thanks, it means a lot to me, the man texted back. See you soon.
Scott mentally gave himself a high five, glad that his plan to unite the pack was starting to come to fruition.
***
Of course, he forgot to let his mom know that she should expect guests and he realized that as he was opening the front door, a group of excited teenagers trailing behind him. The look Melissa gave him at the sight of them all made him gulp loudly.
"Um, hi mom?" he said weakly.
"Don't you hi me young man, you would be in a world of trouble if it wasn't for Peter showing up earlier and giving me heads up," she said with her hands on her hips.
He exhaled with relief at the sight of said werewolf walking out of the kitchen.
"Sorry, mom," he said apologetically, then called: "Thanks, Peter, you're awesome!"
"Of course I am, my brilliance has been proved empirically numerous times already," the man drawled. "Don't just stand there, kids, come on in, I don't bite. Well, at least not today," he added with a wink.
"Good to know," Stiles deadpanned. "And where's Derek, did he come with you?"
"No, but I can hear his car outside, so if my werewolf senses don't fool me, he'll be here in just a moment."
"Um, I'll go talk with him then," Stiles muttered and sprinted out of the house, causing the others to stare after him in surprise.
"Don't worry, they have some unfinished business to talk about, that's all," Scott explained. "They'll be fine."
As they went to the living room, Peter smiled at Allison and asked: "Hello sunshine, I haven't had the chance to ask about it before, but how was the ball, did your dress outshine everyone else's? Should I consider our shopping trip a success?"
"Hi Peter," the girl said with a smile. "I don't know about everyone else, but the dress certainly made an impression on Isaac…"
The said boy blushed hotly at the innuendo while Peter laughed heartily.
"Wait, you went shopping together?" Lydia asked, intrigued. "That dress was fabulous!"
"Thank you, dear, but it was to be expected. I'm a fashionista extraordinaire, after all," the man's chest puffed up proudly and the girls giggled.
Seeing that Isaac, Allison and Lydia were in good hands, Scott pulled Jackson to the side and they lounged on the sofa, leaning against each other comfortably.
"I'm sorry that I didn't have the time to talk with you the last couple of days, but how have you been?" he asked the boy.
"It's alright, you've been busy, I get it," Jackson said and ran his fingers through his hair nervously. "It's been a weird week for all of us, I guess. I kinda talked with my dad, had an argument with Danny, and managed to reconnect with Lydia, so you could say that it was a mix of good and bad stuff happening."
"Oh. I'm sorry to hear about Danny, he seemed like an OK guy. What did you argue about, if you don't mind me asking?" Scott asked.
"You," Jackson admitted. "I mean, me befriending and... well, kissing you. Danny felt that I had acted like a hypocrite by pretending to hate gays, and that I basically abandoned him for you and your friends," Jackson explained tiredly.
"But you can be friends with more than one person at once," Scott protested. "Not to mention the fact that you weren't aware of your sexual preference until recently. Do you want me to talk to him?"
"No need, this is something that I need to do myself, but thanks for the offer," Jackson said, disheartened, which made him look younger than he actually was.
It made all Scott's instincts scream at him to comfort his packmate, to shield him from the world, so he pulled the boy closer and surrounded him with his arms protectively. "Is that okay?" he murmured.
"Yeah," Jackson whispered, resting his head on Scott's chest and relaxing in his hold. "Won't anyone mind, though?"
"They're our friends, of course they won't mind," Scott assured him, then kissed the top of his head. Jackson sighed dreamily and closed his eyes, melting into Scott's embrace completely.
For a moment they stayed like that, as if they were in their own world, totally unaware of all the other people in the room. They didn't even notice that Melissa was watching them with a soft smile, glad that her boy was happy once again.
***
Stiles fidgeted uneasily as he waited for Derek. Once he saw the werewolf getting out of his car, he approached him hesitantly.
"Hi," he mumbled, for once in his life not finding a witty comment or a sarcastic jab to add.
He must have caught a flu, he decided, that was definitely it. His throat felt funny, his forehead was slightly damp from perspiration, and his palms were uncomfortably clammy. It must be a virus of some kind, he was sure of it.
"Did you come to say hello to me, or to Aileen?" Derek asked with his eyebrows raised, though if it was an expression of a surprise or a mockery, Stiles couldn't be entirely sure.
"Aileen?" he repeated after the man without understanding.
"My Camaro. You told me that I wasn't treating her right, that I should appreciate her more. So I thought that giving her a name was the first step in rectifying that," Derek explained, caressing the car's hood almost absentmindedly.
The slow movements of his palm made Stiles feel hot all of a sudden, and he cursed whatever bug made him feel so weird. "Why Aileen?" he asked after a moment.
"AI stands for 'Artificial Intelligence', so I thought it would suit her," Derek said with a wry smile. "She's brilliant, even though she's only a car."
"There’s no such thing as 'only a car'," Stiles argued, feeling that he needed to defend the lady's honor. He took a step closer and his hand hovered uncertainly above the car's hood.
"Can I?" he asked, his voice raspy and breathless.
Derek nodded, observing him with gleaming eyes. His intense stare made Stiles gulp, but he gathered his courage and put his palm down, his fingertips caressing the cold metal with the gentlest of touches.
It was perfection.
After a moment of pure ecstasy Stiles shook his head dazedly and cleared his throat. "I don't want to become a werewolf," he blurted, not even attempting to soften the blow.
To his surprise, Derek only nodded, as if he had already expected a rejection. And who knows, maybe he did.
"I like being human," Stiles explained awkwardly. "I know that it's nothing special, and usually it sucks when I compare myself to others, but… It's who I am. And I like myself, even if no one else does."
Derek looked at Scott's house and said quietly: "There are people in there who like you."
"But you don’t," Stiles said boldly. It wasn't a question, more like a statement, but he still hoped that Derek would deny it.
He didn't.
"You're the most annoying, infuriating person that I've ever met, and I'm counting Peter, so that means a lot. Sometimes, you make my blood boil," the man said with a brutal honesty, causing Stiles to flinch. "But the thing is, I still don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing. What I know for sure is that I'm not... indifferent towards you."
Stiles blushed hotly. "That's good, because I'm not indifferent towards you either," he confessed.
The werewolf was always so grumpy and grouchy… But somewhere along the way, he had grown on Stiles, even his scowls and death threats had become somewhat endearing by now.
"Wait, does it mean that you'll let me drive Aileen from time to time?" he asked hopefully and Derek looked at him darkly.
"Don't push it," the man growled.
"Alright, alright, no need to get so upset. A simple 'no' would have been enough, you know…" they went to the house side by side, Derek scowling and Stiles babbling and gesturing wildly, their arms bumping every couple of steps.
Neither thought of creating more distance between them to avoid the touch.
Chapter Text
Chris' hand hovered above the doorbell for a moment.
He didn't know what was more telling that he was fully allied with Scott now: the fact that the young Alpha had invited him to the pack’s meeting, or that Chris had decided to come without a moment of hesitation. It was almost an instinctive reaction, and it made him realize that he wasn't a werewolf hunter anymore, not where it counted. He might not have made any official statement yet, but deep inside he knew that it was the truth.
The change of allegiance was surprising not only because he’d basically switched sides but also because of how smoothly and naturally it had happened. Somehow along the way his life had diverged from its expected course and he finally started to realize that he didn't have to live his life the way his family tradition dictated. He might be an Argent, but he didn't have to be a hunter.
If only Victoria accepted that, rather than try to force him again into the role of a perfect soldier...
He shook himself from his thoughts and rang the doorbell. Melissa opened the door with a smile. "Hi Chris, it's good to see you again! Come on in, we were just waiting for you."
She looked radiant, her hair and skin glowed, and he couldn't help but think that Peter was a lucky guy to have her. Then he corrected himself: they were both lucky to have each other.
He saw Peter surrounded by Isaac, Allison and Lydia, the werewolf was talking animatedly and the teens were listening to him, clearly enraptured. Then Peter looked up and stopped mid-sentence as he saw Chris coming in.
"Why did you stop, were you gossiping about me?" Chris teased and Peter chuckled.
"Of course, the juiciest gossip that you could think of," he winked.
A chorus of "hi dad" and "hi Mr Argent" followed Peter's words and he greeted Allison and her friends back. He then looked around to see Derek and Scott's friend coming out of the kitchen, he also spotted Scott on the sofa, where he snuggled with another boy who Chris recalled from Scott's memories of the Alpha Pack kidnapping the kids.
"They look adorable together, don't they?" Allison asked with a small smile.
"Absolutely," Chris agreed. He recalled that Scott had mentioned a new love interest, and seeing them together was a sight for sore eyes.
"Jackson's a good kid," Melissa said, standing next to Peter, who immediately put his arm around her waist. "And he likes my cookies."
"Honey, no one can resist your delicious cookies," Peter murmured, kissing her cheek lightly.
"I don't recall ever having the chance to try them," Chris mused, scratching his beard absentmindedly.
"We need to rectify that at once, then," Peter said and went to the kitchen with a bounce in his step, causing Chris to shake his head fondly at the sight.
***
Scott looked at his pack and family mingling with each other and he couldn't help but wish to prolong their moment of peace for a little longer. Still, he was aware that he couldn't stall indefinitely, they all needed to know what had happened during the last couple of days, and that conversation wasn't going to be the easiest, nor the quickest.
He untangled himself from Jackson's hold, though he did it with a reluctance. The boy might not be his packmate yet, but his inner wolf already saw him as such and because of this all Scott's instincts were telling him to keep Jackson close to him, to care and protect as an Alpha wolf should care and protect its cub.
Still, he couldn't be non-stop smothering everyone around him with his overprotectiveness, especially when they were all together, no danger in sight, right? He needed to give them space, let them breathe… However, judging by the dissatisfied frown on Jackson's face, the boy would rather be smothered for a little bit longer, so Scott squeezed his hand both as an apology and reassurance that they would continue their snuggle time later, then stood up.
"Hi everyone, we have a lot to talk about and I want you to be comfortable while we're at it, so find yourself a place to sit," he told his pack.
It took them a couple of minutes to find the perfect seating configuration, as the sofa was way too small to fit them all. Finally, the teenagers bundled together while the adults sat on the chairs, or in Peter's case, an old but cozy armchair.
"Looks hideous, but it's surprisingly comfortable," the man commented.
"Shouldn't you be a gentleman and offer me the best place to sit?" Melissa teased him.
"That’s exactly what I'm doing," he said, before pulling her to his lap, causing her to yelp in surprise. "Are you comfortable?"
"Well, yes, but am I not too heavy?" she looked at the man worriedly, as if afraid to crush him.
"Darling, I'm a werewolf. For me, you're light as a feather," he said with a wink.
Scott hid a smile behind his hand before he addressed the whole group: "I'm happy to see you all guys, and I hope that it will become our tradition to meet together regularly,” after seeing everyone nodding and smiling, he continued in a more serious tone: “The last few days weren't exactly easy for me and you might hear some disturbing news today, but I want you to know that everything's fine now."
"Now that sounded ominous," Stiles commented, raising his eyebrows.
"Do you prefer to hear a short, or a full story?" Scott asked.
A chorus of different replies answered him, when Lydia finally suggested: "How about you first tell us an abridged version of the events and then follow up with more details?"
The group nodded to the suggestion and Scott took a deep breath, before launching into the summary: "Alright, here it goes: my friend Liam and his parents were attacked in their house by a group of racists and are now temporarily living in Derek's flat. While I went with the Dunbars to the hospital, I learned that Deucalion's wounds were severe enough that the doctors wanted to amputate his limbs. I couldn’t let that happen, so I healed him, and in return Deucalion agreed to a truce between our packs."
"After everything that he and his pack did to us?" Lydia asked, visibly upset.
Scott sighed heavily. "Look, if I didn't heal his arm and leg he would have lost them, and I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I had the means to help him and didn't. Can you understand that?"
"Even a monster such as Deucalion?" Jackson asked, looking as distressed as Lydia. "He kidnapped us and then blinded you, he deserved all that happened to him."
"Jackson, do you really believe that everyone should get what they deserve?" Scott asked gently.
"Well, yeah, it's called justice!" the boy answered immediately.
"Then we should treat you like dirt because you were awful to Isaac, is that right?"
Jackson opened his mouth then closed it, looking lost. "But… I've changed," he finally said. "I know that I acted like a prat, but I'm no longer the same person."
Scott was silent for a moment, and surprisingly it was Isaac who replied to Jackson: "Scott asked me to give you a second chance, and he was right. So if he says that Deucalion deserves it too, I’m fine with it.” Scott looked at him with gratefulness, glad that they were on the same side, that Isaac understood him.
Jackson still looked conflicted but he was more thoughtful now, as if he was still processing their words and trying to come to terms with everything that he'd been told.
"Scott, I know that you're a good boy at heart, but Deucalion?" Chris asked dubiously. "He's a killer, and he doesn’t hesitate to use violence to reach his goals. He hurt you-"
"So did you," Scott reminded him bluntly. "And so did Peter, and yet I’ve forgiven you both. So let me ask you: should we have double standards for people inside our pack and outside of it, is this what you're saying? Then it isn't morality, it's convenience."
Chris' eyes widened at his stern tone, and he finally seemed to remember who he was talking to: a leader. "Is it so important to you?" he asked the young Alpha after a moment.
"As long as I don't have to choose between doing the right thing and the safety of the people I care about, then yes, it is," Scott confirmed. "In this case Deucalion offered a truce between our packs and I agreed, since escalation of our conflict would really serve no purpose and wouldn’t benefit anyone."
"But how can you be so sure that he will keep his word?" Chris asked sceptically. "Even if you mended his bones he might still hold a grudge and betray you later."
"He won't, since I not only fixed his limbs," Scott explained, then revealed: "I've also given him his eyesight back."
Everyone looked shocked at the confession, even his mom, Peter and Derek, and he belatedly realized that he hadn’t told them about it before.
"Are all Alphas able to do that, or is it only you?" Stiles asked curiously, his eyes gleaming at the thought.
It was Chris who answered him. "To my knowledge, no werewolf has ever done anything even remotely close to that," he said, then turned to Scott: "Is there anything that you couldn't heal?"
"Um… I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be able to regrow a missing body part, since I need to put my claws into an injury, and I wouldn't be able to do that with a lost limb," Scott explained. "Also, the whole process takes a lot of energy, so when I healed Liam's dad's stab wound and then tried to help Deucalion, I exhausted myself to the point of- well, almost death," he finished quietly, as if saying it out loud would somehow soften the blow.
It didn't quite work as intended, to say the least.
Chapter 88
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
As Scott went on explaining his close brush with death and how a girl, a Banshee like her, gave her life so that he could return to the living, Lydia felt strangely numb. The supernatural world seemed more dangerous by the minute, and it was a much darker place than she expected. Why would anyone give their life for a random stranger, like that girl had done? Lydia wasn't sure if she would be willing to sacrifice herself for anyone, much less someone she didn't know personally. So why had Meredith done that?
Unless... Unless Scott wasn't someone random, that he was more important than it seemed. Even Mr Argent seemed shocked by Scott’s powers and abilities, and from what she understood he was an experienced hunter who had an extensive knowledge of the werewolves in general. So the question was: why was Scott different? What made him so special?... And even more important: why Scott was trying to downplay his role, why was he pretending to be nothing more than a boy bitten by a werewolf?
She was pulled from her thoughts when Scott admitted to making a deal with Meredith to bring Lydia to the Nemeton (which from his description sounded exactly like the mystical tree that she kept seeing in her dreams), and her curiosity instantly morphed into anger. Why was he making decisions for her, again? She didn’t choose to become a Banshee, and she certainly didn’t agree to become some sort of a medium for a magical tree!
She was beyond angry, but it was a cold, contained fury that allowed her to think clearly rather than blindly lash out in anger.
“Let’s see if I understood it correctly: you made a deal involving me without my consent or knowledge, just to save yourself,” she said and watched as he cringed at her tone. Good, she very much enjoyed making men squirm. “And now you expect me to simply comply with that deal like a lamb, quiet and obedient?”
“It’s also important for your training as a Banshee,” he tried to convince her.
“I only became one because you bit me,” she reminded him, then sighed heavily as if relenting. “Alright, I'll consider it, but I have one condition."
"Of course, whatever you need," he assured her with a relieved smile, his body relaxing.
"What I need is a complete and total honesty," she demanded. "Don't think that I don't know that you're hiding something from us. Whatever it is, it's huge, and I want to know what it is. Either you tell us, or you can forget about me going anywhere near the woods."
***
Scott felt the smile slipping from his face at Lydia's words. He knew that he wasn't that good of a liar to convincingly pretend to be a teenager for an extended period of time. Still, he'd hoped to have a little more time to enjoy the chance to act silly and carefree without anyone thinking that it was out of character for him.
He didn't feel even remotely ready to come clean about himself, but it seemed that the decision was out of his hands now. He needed Lydia to agree to visit the Nemeton, he gave Meredith (or a mythical being that wore Meredith's face) his word and he knew perfectly well that if he didn't uphold his end of bargain, it might not end well for him. He suspected that tricking higher powers was a risky business, but he didn't want to know this by experience.
He straightened and asked Lydia: "How did you know, what gave me away?"
"Please, I might be a girl, but I do have a brain," she said with a roll of her eyes. "You have too much of everything: powers, skills, knowledge, self-confidence, even people who are ready to sacrifice themselves for you. Being bitten by a werewolf is not enough to explain it all."
Melissa got off Peter's lap and stood up with her arms crossed over her chest. "Scott, what is she talking about?"
"Mom, I wish I could tell you that Lydia’s wrong… but she’s not,” he took a deep breath, then addressed the whole group: “Listen guys, if I tell you this, you can't tell anyone else," he cautioned. "I've only told Peter and Derek, mostly because we share a pack bond, but also because they can defend themselves. If I tell you my secret, it cannot leave this room, and I mean it."
They all nodded, looking at him with curiosity mixed with apprehension.
He swallowed with difficulty. This was hard, harder than he expected. How could he tell them that he had pretended to be the sixteen year old Scott that they all knew, and was someone older and darker, instead?
It was Chris who approached him and knelt in front of his chair, taking his hands in his. "Scott, if you don't feel ready to tell us yet, we'll wait. I learned the hard way that forcing you to reveal the truth can do more harm than good. Take your time, as long as you need."
Scott shook his head. "No, the more I stall and play for time, the more everyone will become suspicious of me."
"I won't," Chris assured him. "Never again, this was my promise to you."
Scott looked at him, his friend, his mentor, his brother, and said softly: "Thank you."
He raised up his eyes and looked each person in the eye, gauging the strength of their friendship. Will these bonds snap when he reveals the truth about himself? Or will they become even stronger, since there won’t be any more secrets between them?
Finally, he looked at his mom and he almost lost his resolve. She will be hurt the most once he reveals his secret, he knew that. She still clinged to her belief that he was her baby boy that she needed to raise and protect. He hated to cause her pain, but he couldn’t keep living a lie indefinitely.
Three things cannot be long hidden, after all.
The sun.
The moon.
… And the truth.
"I am Scott McCall, but not a sixteen year old, freshly turned werewolf. I am almost thirty year old Scott McCall who already lived this life once, and I lost all of you, until no one was left of my pack, of my family,” his voice shook as he spoke. “I know that this may be hard to believe, but I went back in time to prevent all those deaths from happening."
His words were met with shock and disbelief, but then again, he didn’t expect anything else.
***
It was 6:30 AM local time and Jordan was in the middle of the morning drill, running yet another lap around the camp when he felt as if a giant strobe light burned right through his eyes and deep into his brain. He screamed and fell to his knees, clutching his head as if to stop the visions inside, but he couldn't escape them. He stopped being aware of the other soldiers from his unit gathering around him as he thrashed on the ground, fighting a sudden onslaught of memories.
flashback
He remembered being hunted, always on the run, finding shelters in the wilderness or in abandoned warehouses, if they were lucky. They were the last ones left of the pack, the Commander and his Hellhound, and he felt like a failure, like the worst guard dog ever, letting all of their litter-mates die a gruesome death. But if he felt guilty, he couldn't imagine how hard it must be for Scott…
His leader had changed a lot during the last couple of months. The most obvious were the physical changes: his long hair was now gathered in a loose, messy ponytail, and he looked more unkempt than ever, though Jordan suspected that he didn’t look much better. The most prominent changes were in Scott’s behaviour, though. The werewolf was now more prone to long, grim silences, he rarely smiled these days, and he often got that faraway look on his face which made Jordan shiver, it was so empty and devoid of emotions.
He didn’t know how long they would be able to keep on avoiding getting caught. He suspected that their luck would run out sooner rather than later, and he was right.
It was his shift at night when he heard his enemies getting closer and he immediately went to wake up his Alpha. "Scott, wake up, they've found us," he whispered, shaking him urgently. "We need to split, or they'll catch both of us."
His leader switched from sleeping to fully awake in a second, it was a skill they both had learned early in the war with the hunters. "No, I can’t let you do this-" he protested vehemently.
"Sorry Commander, but this once I'm going to disobey your orders," Jordan said. "I'll keep them busy so that you have a chance to escape. Don't waste anymore time, GO!"
Scott gritted his teeth and ordered quietly: "Once this is all over, find me."
“I will,” Jordan saluted and the werewolf ran to the woods. Once Scott was out of sight, Jordan turned and let the fire consume his whole body, burning away his clothes. He'll show these motherfuckers why the US Army was not to be trifled with, because even though he was no longer in Afghanistan, he would forever remain a soldier, and if need be, he would die like one.
He killed two dozen hunters before they finally took him down, and he was damn proud of himself. That’s two dozen enemies less for Scott to fight, and it was all that Jordan really cared about.
The last thing that he remembered was looking at the barrel of a gun pointing straight at his head and he thought with sorrow that he won’t be able to keep his word and join his Commander again, after all.
And then there was nothing, no fear or pain, only darkness.
/end of flashback
Jordan woke up abruptly, gasping for air.
“Easy, soldier,” the nurse put a hand on his arm and eased him onto the pillow again.
He looked around, half-deliriously. Why was he in the infirmary? It looked like he was in the army camp again, or was it simply a hallucination of a dying man and he was currently bleeding out in the woods after the hunters executed him?
Or - and the thought was truly bizarre, even for someone familiar with the supernatural world - was he really back in Afghanistan, before everything went down to hell?
He looked at the nurse and asked, his voice hoarse as if he had screamed for hours: “Where am I? What year is it?”
The woman looked worried for a moment, then said: “It’s April, 2011 and you’re in the military camp. You had some kind of a seizure of an unknown origin and you were unconscious for a couple of days. Wait for a moment, I’ll call the doctor so that he can explain everything to you.”
Jordan nodded, suddenly overwhelmed. April 2011! It was as if the last eleven years never happened… And yet he remembered all of it.
He didn’t care if his Commander was still a teenager, he needed to get out of here, he needed to go back to the US and find him, warn him of the upcoming war. He only hoped that Scott would believe him.
Notes:
Yup, the truth is revelead AND... Scott's not the only time traveler now! We won't be seeing Parrish for quite a while, since he has to go back from Afghanistan, buuuut it's happening!!
Chapter 89
Notes:
Warnings for this chapter: swearing, because someone gets a little peeved ;)
Chapter Text
Being a nerd had its downsides. Not having much luck with girls and being ridiculed and unpopular at school were surely the most common disadvantages of being a geek. But recently Stiles had started to realize that there were also some upsides to his nerdiness, and it was the ease with which he was able to adapt to the craziness that his world had turned to. Werewolves? Sure, why not. Banshees? Even better.
Time travel?...
In hindsight, it made perfect sense. The sudden change in Scott’s behaviour, his newfound confidence and the depth of his knowledge, everything finally started to fall into place. His friend was not only a werewolf, he was also an adult and a veteran of far too many battles, and it showed. Stiles would be the first person to acknowledge that Scott had changed, true, and yet he was still the same person, wearing his heart on his sleeve and always taking care of everyone else before he even started thinking about himself. The truth of Scott's past (future?) life changed everything, but where it truly counted… it changed nothing.
So when their group of friends started to angrily demand an explanation, asking what happened with the sixteen year old Scott and how he could have taken his place, Lydia acting all outraged while Allison, Isaac and Jackson looked somewhere between angry, hurt and betrayed, Stiles realized that he’d had enough. He stood up from the couch and slammed the closest thing (which turned out to be a very heavy cookbook) hard into the table, causing everyone to jump in shock.
"What the fuck is wrong with all of you?" he asked in the sudden silence. "You act as if our Scott was replaced with some kind of impostor but it's bullshit. It's Scott we're talking about, and apparently he broke every law of physics in existence just to save our sorry asses and change our future for the better, so I'm not going to just stand and watch as you keep adding even more weight on his shoulders. This shit stops now, and I mean it."
He looked around and was glad to see that finally they stopped to think about how their reaction was affecting Scott, and they avoided his eyes, clearly ashamed. At last, he looked at his best friend and wasn't surprised to see that Scott's eyes were glistening with unshed tears. His friend was always too sensitive and emotional for his own good, and that apparently hadn't changed a bit.
"Scotty," Stiles beckoned him gently, "come here, you big, stupid oaf."
Scott stumbled into his arms unsteadily as if he was drunk, and he fell into Stiles' embrace as if it was his lifeline… and maybe it was.
"Hey, it's alright," Stiles murmured into his friend's ear, patting his back.
"Stiles, how can I thank you-"
"You don't," he interrupted almost harshly, then took a step back so that he could put his hands on Scott's shoulders and look him in the eye. "You don't ever need to thank me for being on your side, because I'm always going to be there, so you better start getting used to it, since I'm not going anywhere."
Scott made a small noise that was a laugh and a sob all at once, and in that moment he looked so young and vulnerable that Stiles wouldn't have believed it was possible, he acted so strong most of the time. It also made him realize that after all these times when Scott defended everyone, it was a high time someone defended Scott in return.
He looked around at the people surrounding them and said sternly: "Anyone who still thinks that he's not our Scott, get the hell out of here, because it means that you never really knew him in the first place, and you don't deserve to be here." When after a long moment no one moved, Stiles continued: "Good. You want to be called Scott's pack? Then act like it. He's the very person who befriended and brought us all together. Try to remember that before you start accusing him of anything."
"Well said," Mr Argent finally shook himself out of his stupor. "And I would also add that Scott owes us no explanation of what happened in his previous life. It's his choice if and when he wants to share his story with us."
Stiles nodded, glad that he wasn't the only one on Scott's side.
***
Scott swallowed with difficulty, suddenly overwhelmed. Telling his pack the truth was one of the hardest things he'd ever done, and he felt so strung out and tense that he could barely breathe.
It had been easier with Peter and Derek, somehow. They were werewolves, they could sense if he lied, and he could always share his emotions with them via their bond if needed. But today's confession was much harder, because he was forced to face all of his packmates at once. How could he even start explaining what he had gone through? He remembered his reaction at Deaton's proposition of travelling back in time, he had been more than ready to do anything and everything so that he could see them all again, and damn the consequences.
But they didn't know that and his admission caused them to react with various levels of anger and disbelief, and even if Scott could understand it on some level, it still hurt him to see it.
So when Stiles had showed his support so openly, almost boldly, as if he would fight the whole world in Scott’s defense if needed... he felt thoroughly humbled. He knew that he had neglected his best friend lately and in all honesty he wasn't sure if he deserved such devotion, but he was grateful for it nevertheless. Stiles' passionate speech and Chris' calm, unwavering support felt like a balm on his soul, and he took a deep breath, straightening his shoulders, and looked at his teenage friends.
They all looked properly chastised and ashamed of themselves, and he felt his hurt melting away as if it was never there. They were so very young and totally unprepared for the darkness that was ahead, that he couldn't muster any real anger at them.
"Look guys, I know that you may feel cheated or lied to, but I'm still the same Scott that you knew. The only difference is that in my previous life I lost you, and when I got the chance to undo it all, I took it. Can you really blame me for that?"
"I just don't like the thought that you're redoing all your life, knowing everything that we'll do or say…" Allison admitted, clutching Isaac's hand in a tight grip, and the blond boy nodded, agreeing with her. "I mean, isn't it like cheating?"
"It doesn't work that way, things are already different," Scott explained patiently. "This time I made different choices and my knowledge of the future is now mostly outdated. For example, we were a couple in my first life, but I didn't want to constantly compare you to Allison that I knew, so... we won't be together ever again."
The girl blushed and Isaac looked a mix of intrigued and jealous. "You and Allison?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Yup," Scott said with a small smile. "But don't worry, I'm not going to take your girl away from you. Also, you wouldn't believe how displeased her parents were that she dated a werewolf…"
"I can imagine," Isaac said, looking at Chris knowingly.
Scott remembered how Victoria had tried to kill him for dating her daughter and mused that Isaac had no idea what he was getting into.
A sudden movement drew his attention and he saw his mom retreating to the kitchen, which she always did whenever she felt upset. He started to walk after her, but Peter put a hand on his arm, stopping him.
"Let me talk to her first," his packmate offered, and Scott nodded.
***
Melissa felt as if her whole world crumbled around her. Her baby, her precious little boy somehow turned into an adult, and she didn't know what was worse: that it happened or that she didn't realize it.
She was his mom, shouldn't she had known that something was different about him? Shouldn't her motherly intuition tell her that something was wrong? She knew that he had been acting differently, true, but she had chalked it up to him becoming a werewolf. Never would she have guessed that he was, in fact, a grownup.
She heard someone entering the kitchen and she turned around, facing Peter. "You knew that Scott was an adult!" she said accusatorily, jabbing a finger into his chest. "You knew and never told me!"
"I wouldn't ever break his confidence in such a way, you know that," he explained calmly. "The question is: what bothers you more, the fact that Scott's no longer a teenager, or that he told me and Derek before he told you?"
She opened her mouth to reply, then closed it abruptly. Why did Scott never tell her? She was his mother, surely she deserved to know before everyone else? Didn't he trust her enough?...
"Why didn't he tell me?" she asked in a small voice, feeling lost.
Instead of replying, he embraced her tightly and she buried her face in his strong chest.
"You would need to ask Scott," Peter murmured into her hair, his hand making small circles on her back. "He lost too many people to come out of it unscatched, so if I were to hazard a guess, I'd say that he was afraid to lose you too, or that you would treat him differently once you knew. But no matter how experienced he is, he still needs you. Don't turn him away just because he's older than he looks."
She trembled, because just a couple of weeks ago she might have done just that. But recently she had been forced to acknowledge a couple of difficult truths about herself, that she had been too judgemental and easy to anger, snapping at her son rather than trying to understand him. She had promised to herself that she would be a better mother, and it was a high time that she proved it.
Chapter 90
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
If he was being completely honest with himself, Jackson didn't like himself all that much. He knew that he was spiteful at times and more often than not he let his temper get the best of him. His pals at school, maybe with the exception of Danny, only hung out with him for his money and because he was popular. But since he didn't care much for others and never did anything that didn't benefit him in some way, he couldn't care less what they thought about him.
At least, that's what he told himself each time he opened yet another bottle to drink himself unconscious, the only reliable method to silence his thoughts and make him forget, if for a short while, how utterly pointless his life was.
But then Scott came along with his infectious smile and easy acceptance, and Jackson finally understood what he had missed for so long: an understanding without judgment, and a sense of belonging. He wanted that, wanted Scott's friendship so much that it almost hurt. And for a short while it seemed that he might get his wish.
But now… now he wasn't so sure.
Was Scott's friendship truly genuine? Did he like him, sixteen year old Jackson, or did he want to mold him into someone he had known in his previous life? The whole idea of time travel was mind boggling to Jackson, but what he knew for sure was that he would hate if someone tried to force him to be someone he wasn't. He had enough of that from his father, and he didn't want to change one tyrant to another.
That's why when Mrs McCall went to the kitchen and everyone waited for her and Peter's return, he cleared his suddenly clenched throat and asked tentatively: "Scott, can we talk in private?"
"Sure, let's go to my room," the teen offered (a man, not a teen, Jackson’s mind reminded him as they walked upstairs).
Being in Scott’s room reminded him of the other night when they had kissed, and when he had revealed all his carefully hidden secrets. When Scott closed the door behind them and turned around to face him, Jackson realized that he didn't really know him that well. Suddenly, he felt utterly exposed and vulnerable.
"Hey, don't look at me like that, as if I'm a stranger," Scott said pleadingly. "I'm still the same person, you know."
Jackson rubbed his eyes, trying to get rid of the unwanted and totally unneeded tears that gathered there. "Your friendship, was it ever genuine?" he asked finally. "Or am I only the younger version of someone that you used to know?"
"That's not- You are not him, and I don't expect you to be. I want you to find your own way and not let anyone tell you how you should think or act. You are not a substitute for anyone, I swear."
Jackson bit his lip, he wanted to believe him but was still hesitant to. "Did you already know everything about me, about my home life? Were you just pretending to be unaware?" he asked, feeling hurt and betrayed and hating that feeling.
"I didn't know, I swear. Jackson that I knew from my first life… we weren't close, to be honest. In fact, he was my highschool nemesis before he moved with his parents to London. When he returned after two years with a boyfriend in tow, he was much more likable, but still an arrogant bastard. He never showed the vulnerable side of him to anyone," Scott added sorrowfully.
London! That was completely unexpected. And a boyfriend too! Jackson shook his head, suddenly overwhelmed.
"Too much information?" Scott asked with understanding and Jackson nodded wordlessly.
They fell into an uncomfortable silence and Jackson fidgeted slightly. The problem was, he didn't want his relationship with Scott to change and become awkward. He enjoyed their closeness, the way he could always count on Scott to know what he needed, be it a hug, some space, or even a stern talking to, and he didn't want to lose it all.
So the question was: should he let the knowledge of Scott's unique circumstances affect their friendship? Or should he just trust his gut instinct, and do what his heart told him to do?
"Can we just- go back to the way we were?" he asked timidly, because if he was completely honest with himself, he wanted Scott in his life, it was as simple as that.
In response, Scott pulled him into a hug, and Jackson realized that he'd already got used to it, to the warmth and safety of Scott's embrace. It was an addictive feeling, much more than alcohol could ever be, and he hugged his Alpha tightly, almost desperately.
"Hey, it's alright, I've got you," Scott murmured. "I'll always be your friend, if you'll let me."
Let him? Jackson couldn't imagine going back to how his life had been before Scott. The posturing, always pretending to be a perfect son, perfect student, perfect everything… The void inside which not even the newest, most expensive car on the market was able to fill. What use was his Porsche, if he had no one who truly cared for him? Before Scott came into his life, he’d had everything a teenager could ever want, and yet in ways that mattered the most, he had been the poorest of them all.
"I'm sorry for my reaction earlier," he mumbled as he took a step back, just so that he could observe Scott's reaction. "I don't care if you are twenty or thirty, if it's your first life or fifth, as long as you honestly care for me, and not someone from your past."
Scott's eyes were impossibly soft as he assured him that of course he cared, how could Jackson ever doubt it?
And just like that, the jagged edges of Jackson’s heart smoothed over as he felt the warmth of Scott's words surrounding him like a soft blanket.
***
Lydia was a suspicious person by nature, and she was proud of it. She was intelligent and strong-willed, a combination that made it harder for everyone to manipulate her. So when Scott confessed that he was a time traveller, all sorts of thoughts and doubts came to her mind. If he was telling the truth (which she wasn't entirely convinced still), had he really needed to replace the sixteen year old Scott? What was his agenda? How could they even be sure that he was telling the truth?
At first, the others had agreed with her, but after Stiles' passionate speech they seemed to be more accepting of Scott. Even Jackson, who after one short talk with the time traveller seemed to be completely at ease with him once again.
So, once Scott went to fetch his mom and Peter, and Stiles dissappeared somewhere with Derek, Lydia used that moment to interrogate her former boyfriend. "What did he say to you?" she asked him suspiciously.
Jackson just shrugged. "It's between Scott and me," he replied unhelpfully, and she pressed her lips, dissatisfied. He seemed a little bit too trusting and eager to smooth things over and that worried her, because she didn’t want him to be taken advantage of.
"But what if he lied to you?" she pressed. "What if he somehow manipulated you? Who knows what skills he has which he didn't tell us about…"
"Lydia, that's enough," Mr Argent said sternly. "I understood that you were suspicious of Scott when it was you who was affected the most by what he did. But these accusations are not only unfounded, they are outright harmful."
She exhaled deeply, trying to rein in her frustration, before she asked: "How can you be so sure that they're unfounded?"
It was Jackson who answered her: "Why can't you just accept that I would know if my Alpha lied to me?"
"Your…" she looked at him, shocked.
"That’s right, my Alpha," Jackson confirmed bluntly. "I might not be a werewolf yet, but if everything goes along to the plan, I'll become one within a month or so. So could you please just accept the fact that it's my choice and that my relationship with Scott is my business and no one else's?"
For a moment, she was rendered speechless.
Chris put a gentle hand on Jackson’s arm. "Are you sure about this? It's a big decision that will affect your whole life, I don't want you to regret it afterwards."
"I know, Mr Argent, I really do," Jackson assured him. "But I want it, and I know that Scott won't give me the bite until I'm truly ready for it. You see, he gave me a task to prove that I have what it takes to become a werewolf," the boy took a deep breath, before he admitted: "I... I'm addicted to alcohol, and I need to stay sober for a month before Scott even considers making me his Beta."
"Oh Jackson," Lydia pressed a hand to her mouth. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know." She was aware that he'd had some issues lately, but he had never opened up to her, never revealed that he had an alcohol problem. She frowned as she belatedly realized that maybe she hadn’t been paying as much attention as she should have to what was happening in his life.
"When Scott found out, he wasn't just sorry for me, he helped me get better, and yet he accepted that I'm far from perfect. He knows not only what I want, but also what I need. And that's why I trust him, even if you don't," he said decisively.
It was in that moment when Scott, Peter and Melissa got back from the kitchen.
"Did I miss anything?" Scott asked, looking uncertainly between Jackson and Lydia.
Lydia decided to be totally upfront about her doubts. "I was wondering if I should trust you," she said with brutal honesty. The small smile that Scott gave her in response infuriated her to no end.
"Either you trust me or you don't,” he said with a shrug, “and nothing I could say will change that. And yes, I'm using the unfair advantage of knowing you longer than you know me. You're a proud, stubborn person, so when people tell you what to do, you do exactly the opposite. So let me offer you a deal: observe me and judge for yourself if I'm worth your trust," his hand hung in the air. "What do you say?"
She gaped at him, the offer was so unexpected. She thought that he would try to convince her, to talk her into accepting his leadership. She expected a speech of sorts, but not this… down to earth, practical arrangement.
He truly did know her, she realized with amazement, and that more than anything else convinced her that he was telling the truth, after all.
"Deal," she shook his hand, accepting the offer. "But I’m giving you a fair warning: I'll be watching you closely."
He chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I didn’t expect anything else."
Notes:
Yup, Stiles disappeared somewhere with Derek... Anyone curious what they are up to? :D
Chapter 91
Notes:
Apologies for this half of a chapter, but Derek & Stiles demanded my attention, and that scene didn't let me live my life until it got written.
I promise that the next part will be at least twice as long!
Chapter Text
Stiles scowled as he was dragged by Derek outside.
"Listen, big guy, this is slowly getting old-"
He didn't get to finish his complaint as he was pushed against the wall and strong hands cupped his face.
"You are incredible," Derek said breathlessly and kissed him, causing Stiles' eyes to go round with surprise.
Being kissed by a man was a novel experience for him. There was nothing soft about Derek's body as it pressed against him, all muscles and strength and undisguised masculinity. He didn't get to enjoy the feeling for long, though, as Derek retreated quickly, leaving Stiles' lips burning from being scratched by the werewolf's stubble.
"Why?..." Stiles asked hoarsely, feeling light-headed.
He had just been kissed. By a man. And not just any man, but one who earlier had confessed that he found him irritating. So it wasn't any surprise that Stiles was highly confused, but what did surprise him was that he was also secretly delighted... and uncomfortably aroused.
"The way you defended Scott… I couldn't get my eyes off you, you were simply magnificent," Derek explained, his eyes gleaming with appreciation. "I never thought that you had it in you, but damn, you're incredibly hot when you're being protective."
Stiles pouted. "And all I get in return is a short kiss? What would I need to do to get properly snogged, kill a dragon?"
Derek blinked, surprised. "You want more?"
"You would need to be blind not to see how interested in you I am," Stiles said bluntly. "I've never kissed a boy, much less a man, but your kiss makes me rethink my own sexuality, and that means a lot."
"I don't know, you seemed more interested in my car," Derek commented wryly, raising his eyebrows.
"Aileen is a thing of beauty, that's true," Stiles admitted honestly, then added: "Ideally, I wouldn't mind making out with you… on the backseat of your car."
He was proud of the way his words made Derek look flustered. He might be a virgin, but he wasn't shy by any means, and he would be damned if he let such a hot guy walk away as if nothing had happened. Decision made, it was he who pulled the man for another kiss. This time, he slipped his hands underneath Derek's T-shirt, and the feeling of that muscled body beneath his palms made him moan loudly.
When the kiss ended, Derek's cheeks were definitely redder than before, and his eyes were strangely wide, as if he couldn't believe what was happening despite being the one who had dragged Stiles from the house and initiated the whole thing. Which made Stiles remember that this was the man who Scott considered his packmate and one of his dearest friends, so he needed to tread carefully here.
"Hey, don't think too much about this. If this was a one-time kiss session, never to be repeated, I'll be fine. If you want more, that's even better. Don't get all frowny about it," he said with a wink. Which of course made Derek frown, his trademark scowl appearing on his face in a second.
"So you don't care either way," the man said unhappily.
"Look, we don't have a lot in common, but the one thing that we share is that we both love Scott," Stiles said honestly. "I don't want to worry him more than he already is, so adding a relationship drama between the two of us might not be the best idea at the moment. So, could we just agree to enjoy ourselves while it lasts, and not make a fuss if it doesn't work out?"
Derek considered him carefully for a long moment. "You don't want us to get involved," he said flatly.
"I don't want to hurt your feelings," Stiles said gently. "And the two of us being a couple is like a disaster waiting to happen. So I wondered if you would like us to be- well, maybe not exactly friends with benefits, but something similar? Like, being together without being all serious about it?"
That finally caused Derek to smile crookedly, and just like that the tension between them was broken. "Does it mean that I get to snog you without having to buy you flowers?" he teased.
Stiles snickered. "Flowers? What would I even do with them? If you want to get into my pants, buy me a new video game or something."
When Derek laughed openly, his eyes gleaming with amusement, Stiles felt his own stomach doing a weird somersault.
His plan of not getting emotionally attached might no longer be feasible, after all...
Chapter Text
When Stiles and Derek got back, Scott knew instantly that something had changed between them. The gentle brush of their hands, the softness in Stiles' eyes, even the way Derek's shoulders lost some of their usual stiffness - the signs were quite obvious even to someone as oblivious in these matters as Scott. Or maybe it was obvious to him because he knew them so well?
With a wide smile he patted Stiles' back, then pulled Derek into a tight hug, letting the man know through their bond how happy he was for them. The way Derek clung to him showed him that his packmate wasn't sure of the reception he would get from him, so Scott sent him wave after wave filled with love and acceptance.
Someone cleared their throat and Scott realized that they were making quite a scene. That didn't stop Derek from nuzzling his neck one last time and inhaling his scent deeply, but Scott certainly didn't mind.
When they finally pulled back, it was Jackson who asked tentatively: "What were you two doing? It looked… intimate."
"Sharing our emotions," Scott explained. "It can get overwhelming at times, but it's worth it."
"Is it something that only werewolves can experience?" Allison asked curiously.
"Actually, I remember Scott doing something similar for me, mom and Peter," Isaac commented.
"Really? How did it feel?" Allison looked at his boyfriend with interest.
"Wonderful, but very intense. I remember that I cried afterwards," he added with embarrassment. "But it doesn't matter, the feeling was incredible, and if it's something that Derek gets to experience regularly… Wow, he’s a lucky guy."
Everyone looked at Derek, which clearly made him uncomfortable. "Peter too, since he shares the same bond with Scott as I," he said.
Scott smiled a little at the obvious attempt of redirecting everybody's attention to Peter, who enjoyed it much more than his nephew ever would.
"The feeling is actually very similar in its intensity to climax," Peter commented, which got him a displeased look from Melissa, who was clearly unhappy at the suggestion that Peter shared anything even remotely sexual with Scott. "Not in nature, of course, I only meant that it's very intense, so don't look at me like that. You've had the chance to experience it as well, so you know what I mean."
Melissa nodded reluctantly. "It's wonderful, but really overwhelming."
"Scott, are you able to share your emotions with just everyone?" Chris asked, intrigued.
"Not everyone, it needs to be someone I love and who my inner wolf considers a pack," Scott explained, causing Chris to bite his lip uncertainly. He wondered what would cause the man to be so hesitant, before a realization dawned on him. "Would you like me to show you how it feels?"
***
Chris couldn't lie to himself, ever since he had spent the full moon with Scott, Peter and Derek he was envious of the bond that the werewolves shared, their uncanny closeness and the ease with which they showed their care for each other. Considering the fact that his own family was falling apart, was it truly any wonder that it left him yearning for a deep bond such as the one that Scott shared with his packmates? While he had never wanted to become a werewolf - and that still didn't change even though he no longer considered them beasts - he couldn't deny that being a part of their pack was really tempting.
So when Scott offered to share his emotions with him, Chris felt almost faint at the implication that the teen… loved him. His throat suddenly felt dry, and for a long moment he wasn't able to say a thing.
"I…" he cleared his throat. "Are you sure? I'd like that very much, maybe not right now, but- Yes, I'd love to."
"I'm sure, and of course it doesn't have to be today," Scott said softly, and the warmth in his eyes made Chris feel truly cared for. Thankfully, he didn't need to feel self-conscious any longer about the fact that he needed a kid's attention to feel appreciated, since he now knew that Scott was older than he looked.
Which reminded him… "Would you also consider sharing your memories of your past life with us?" he asked the young Alpha. "I mean, the same way you showed me your confrontation with Deucalion."
"I didn't think about that," Scott said sheepishly. "Derek never asked, and Peter… Well, I once entered his mind without his consent, so he's a bit apprehensive about the experience, and rightfully so," he admitted.
Chris looked between Scott and Peter, surprised. There was a history there, and not that of Scott's past life, but a more recent one. He never would have guessed that, judging by how close they were with each other at the present.
"Werewolves can do that? Enter someone's mind, I mean?" Lydia asked, alarmed.
"Yes, though the term is quite vague. It's mostly memory manipulation, I can as easily show you my own memories as view yours, I could even remove some memories or implant false ones," Scott explained. "That's why I wouldn't offer it to someone unless there was absolute trust between us."
"And you used this method on my dad?" Allison asked anxiously.
Chris looked at Scott and smiled at him, showing that he wasn't worried that the young Alpha would ever use his skills in a way that he just described. Then he sobered at the thought that it was he who had hurt Scott, while the young man had never counted it against him. Not to mention Victoria's assassination attempt… He suddenly realized that it was something that needed to be revealed to Scott's pack as well, and he couldn't help but feel guilty, even though he hadn't been the one who pulled the trigger. Still, in a way he felt responsible for his wife's actions.
"Allison, between Scott and I, it's him who has the right to feel apprehensive," he said grimly, causing her eyes to widen in surprise. "Please remember that your mother and I, we're werewolf hunters. I never told you this, but... Scott has already been hurt by us."
That caused quite an uproar in the group. Derek's eyes started to glow red, but Scott put a gentle hand on his arm.
"Everyone, calm down, please," the teen asked, then turned to Chris. "You don't have to tell everyone about it. I'd understand if you wanted to-"
"What, sweep Victoria's actions under the rug? Pretend that they've never happened?" he asked tiredly, bitterly. "No, I can’t do that, not with the upcoming trial."
"Alright, this might be for the best," Scott nodded his assent. "Do you want to talk with Allison in private?"
Chris was once again reminded how empathetic and thoughtful person Scott was. He appreciated the chance to talk with his daughter, she deserved to be told by him personally and in privacy, without everyone witnessing her reaction.
"Yes, please," he said gratefully.
"Think nothing of it," Scott murmured, then pulled him into a short but heartfelt hug, which Chris needed more than he would like to admit. "You can go upstairs to talk, my room's the second on the right. While you're talking with Allison, I'll tell the rest so that you don't have to do it twice in a row."
"Sounds good to me," Chris nodded and looked at Allison, who was starting to look worried already. "Come on, sweetheart, let's go to Scott's room. We have a lot to talk about."
***
Scott sat down in Allison's place on the sofa and wiggled between Isaac and Jackson. Sighing in pleasure, he closed his eyes, enjoying their shared body warmth and allowing it to calm him down.
After a moment he felt a hand petting his hair gently and he peered through his eyelashes at Isaac.
"Why do I have this feeling that it's not going to be an easy conversation?" the boy asked him quietly.
"What gave it away?" Scott joked, though judging by the unimpressed look that Isaac gave him, it fell quite flat.
He sighed, then straightened and looked at everyone. Lydia was sitting on Jackson's other side, and she seemed to have lost the suspicious look that she had been sporting almost the entire time since their meeting had started, and she now appeared more thoughtful instead. Peter was holding Melissa as she was once again sitting on his lap, while Stiles' took the chair that Scott had just vacated. Derek sat beside the teen and their knees were touching slightly, though nothing else gave away that they were seeing each other now (or at least that was what Scott assumed had happened, though he would need to talk with them to have it confirmed).
They were his pack, for better and for worse, and he wouldn't have it any other way. He gave himself a short moment to think about the people who were missing today. To name only a few: Liam, his pup, the child of his heart, the only one that he would probably ever have, though he was glad that the boy now knew about the supernatural world; blunt and hard as nails Malia; always an opportunist Theo… He thought about the twins and if they would ever consider themselves as Scott's "extended" pack while still remaining loyal to Deucalion. He hoped that they would.
He blinked, trying to focus on the here and now, and cleared his throat. "I know that you're aware that Chris belongs to a family of werewolf hunters. What not many of you know, though, is that there's been a lot of bad blood between the Argents and the werewolves of Beacon Hills. What I want you to promise me is that you won't blame Chris or Allison for their family's deeds. Can you do that for me?"
"Of course, we know better than to put the blame on the wrong man," Peter said calmly, and Scott smiled at him with gratitude.
"Besides, Allison's our friend and it's clear that her father is a good person as well," Lydia added, and the others nodded.
"Thanks, guys, it means a lot to me," he said honestly, then told them about the first time Victoria had lured him into their house and electrocuted him since she suspected him to be the Alpha who was murdering people in the town. He explained that Chris had felt betrayed and joined her in torturing him, but regretted it once it was revealed that Scott was a True Alpha and swore never to lose faith in him ever again.
"That's why he trusts you so unconditionally now, isn't it?" Melissa asked thoughtfully. "His unwavering loyalty made me wonder if I was missing something…"
"Yes, he proved himself to me many times over since then," Scott said firmly, then took a deep breath. "He even took a bullet for me when Victoria attempted to shoot me."
Everyone was silent for a moment, before Melissa got up to her feet, shaking. "How dare she!... I'm going to kill that bitch!" she hissed angrily.
"And I'm going to be right there behind you, making sure that she's dead," Peter growled lowly, his claws and fangs extending in a flash.
Before things could escalate even further, Scott got up from the sofa and roared warningly. It wasn't a deafening roar that he would use on his enemies, but still it was loud enough to cause everyone around him to press their hands to their ears.
"Nobody will kill anyone," he said in the sudden silence.
"You can't just let it go," Derek protested. "She needs to be punished."
"And she will," Scott assured him and felt that his eyes were now shining with a ruby red light. "But she doesn't think that she's done anything wrong, she thinks that she only attempted to kill a rabid animal. She'd been brainwashed her entire life and I want to at least try to make her see that what she wanted to do would have been, in fact, a murder."
"You have a plan," Derek said, an understanding dawning in his eyes.
"I know that it doesn't often look like it, but I always have a plan," Scott said calmly. "The only people Victoria would ever listen to are other hunters. That's why I asked Chris to request that Araya Calavera judged her."
Peter whistled, impressed. "You want the Calaveras to take the werewolf's side over that of another hunter's? That's… ambitious of you."
"I want the hunters to finally admit that treating werewolves as beasts is wrong. I know that changing the entire organization will take time, but it needs to start somewhere, and it's a perfect opportunity for that. If the hunters will keep believing themselves above the law, morality and even simple human decency, soon we'll get an all-out war on our hands. And I can't let that happen again," he said quietly. "It's what got all of you killed in my first life. I don't care for revenge as much as I care for preventing that war from starting... I only want to keep all of you safe."
Chapter 93
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Chris was holding Allison as she sobbed after hearing that her mother had tried to murder Scott, when they heard a roar downstairs, causing them both to jump in surprise.
"What was that?" Allison asked, her voice trembling slightly, though if it was from the crying or if she was scared of the sound, he couldn't say.
"That was an Alpha roar," Chris said, straightening up. "Someone's quite angry…"
"Do you think that my friends will hate me because of what mom almost did?" she asked in a small voice.
"Sweetheart, you said it yourself, they're your friends, and friends don't turn their back on each other so easily," he tried to console her. "Do you want to go downstairs and see for yourself?"
"Yeah," she said, wiping off her tears. "How do I look?"
"As if you just cried… But still as beautiful as always," he assured her with a smile.
"Daaad!" she complained. "Be honest, I don't want to face everyone looking like a mess."
"Your eyes are a little red and puffy, but other than that you look fine. Come on, let's go back," he murmured, kissing her temple and circling her shoulders with his arm.
As they walked down the stairs, they heard Scott saying: "...soon we'll get an all-out war on our hands. And I can't let that happen again, it's what got all of you killed in my first life. I don't care for revenge as much as I care for preventing that war from starting... I only want to keep all of you safe."
Chris swallowed with difficulty. A true war between the hunters and werewolves? It was horrible, unthinkable even. He felt nauseous at the mere thought of having to choose a side in such a conflict, though if he was completely honest with himself... his heart had already chosen for him.
"I'm so sorry, Scott," Allison said ruefully, drawing everyone's attention. "I feel so awful…"
"No need, you didn't do anything wrong. But if you want to make it up to me, come here and give me a hug," the young werewolf said with a gentle smile, and she crossed the room and fell into his arms with a muffled sob.
Chris didn't get the chance to observe them for much longer, though, as after a second he was being embraced by Melissa.
"Thank you for saving my boy," she whispered into his ear, and he hugged her back, burying his face in her soft, curly hair.
"Always," he murmured back, feeling as if his heart was ready to burst.
***
After his friends left, Scott kissed his mom's and Isaac's cheeks and said a quiet "good night", then went to his room. Once he closed the door behind him, he slid onto the floor, suddenly feeling boneless from the emotional rollercoaster of today's meeting. While he knew that his packmates wouldn't mind if he showed weakness in front of them, he wanted them to count on him, to know that he would always be there for them if they needed his help. And if it meant that sometimes he needed to hide some of his tiredness… Well, that was a very small price to pay for being the one they could always rely on.
He sat like that for a long moment when he heard his phone beeping on the desk where he had left it after his talk with Jackson, and he got up to his feet. He checked the phone and saw that Deucalion had sent him a couple of messages, and the last one: Is everything alright? clearly showed that the man was worried by his lack of response, which was quite sweet, now that he thought about it.
Rather than texting, he decided to call him instead and Deucalion picked up almost immediately.
"Hi Scott, thank you for calling me, I was starting to worry."
"Hi, sorry for that, I just had quite a long and intense pack meeting," he explained.
"Do you feel like sharing?" the man asked gently, and Scott realized that he could listen to his voice indefinitely, it was almost velvet-like.
"Not particularly, I'm exhausted by even thinking about it, much less recounting it to anyone," he said honestly.
"It's alright, I understand," Deucalion said diplomatically, though Scott suspected that the man felt slightly hurt at the rejection.
"I'd like to see you, though," he blurted. "Do you have any plans for Saturday?"
"Why, are you asking me out?" Deucalion teased, and Scott could almost imagine a small smile dancing in the corners of his mouth.
"Yes, I am," he confirmed with a sudden bout of self-confidence. "Unless you have any objections?"
"No objections whatsoever," the man replied, though his voice gained some hoarseness and Scott grinned, knowing that it was because of him. "Though I admit it's been quite a while since I last went on a date, so I might be a little rusty in that area."
"It doesn't need to be anything elaborate, in fact, I've pictured something private, like cooking a meal together in your apartment and then going for a walk, maybe?" he suggested hopefully. The last a couple of days had been exhausting and he needed a calm, quiet weekend to sooth him.
"Sounds perfect, I've never been a big fan of fancy restaurants, to be honest. Would you mind if my pack was present, though, at least for the cooking part?" Deucalion asked.
"Of course I don't mind, you don't have to kick them out, it's also their apartment after all,” Scott said warmly. “How are they doing, by the way?"
"You truly care, don't you? You're not only asking out of politeness?"
"They're your pack, of course I care," Scott assured him.
Even to this day, he still felt guilty at the memory of rejecting the twins’ request to become a part of his pack in the first timeline. He certainly didn’t want to repeat that mistake, and even though there was no reason for them to leave the Alpha Pack at the moment, he wanted them to feel that they could always contact him if they ever needed a refuge.
"Thank you," Deucalion said a little breathlessly, then cleared his throat. "The twins are fine, Kali feels better too, though she still has moments when she's just staring unseeingly at the wall… But after a couple of minutes she snaps out of it, so I hope that it will become less frequent with time."
"She might feel aimless, now that Ennis is gone," Scott said with understanding. He would know, he had been that way in his first life after he had lost Jordan, the last link to his pack. And he hadn't needed to cope with a lover’s betrayal on top of that… "Finding a new goal, a new reason to live might do wonders for her. Until it happens, though, the only thing that we can do is to show her our support."
There was a long moment of silence after his words, so he asked tentatively: "Deucalion, are you there?"
"Yes, I am... Do you realize that you keep saying 'we'?"
Scott blinked, surprised. "Well, I can't plan to go on a date with you and still keep your pack at arm's length. It doesn't work that way, not for me."
"You don't do anything halfway, do you?" Deucalion asked, amazed, and Scott laughed.
"You can bet that I don't. Unless... unless you think that’s too much, too soon?" he asked, suddenly worried. "If you don't want me to become involved in your pack's matters, just say it, and I'll-"
"Actually, I find it endearing," Deucalion interrupted him gently. "I find you endearing. I only wish that I could help you in return."
"Thank you, it means a lot to me," Scott said sincerely. "I'll take you up on that offer at some point, it's just that- things are pretty complicated here. I was planning to tell you one thing at a time so that you won't run away screaming."
Deucalion chuckled. "I'm not going anywhere, no matter what you have up your sleeve," the man assured him. "Try me if you want."
Be careful what you wish for… Scott thought with a gallows humor. "Have you seen your emissary recently?"
"No, I haven't. Why do you ask?" Deucalion asked, surprised.
"Because yesterday she accosted me in the woods, trying to convince me that I am a figure of legend who is destined to unite the supernatural world and that she would be a perfect advisor for someone like me," he said sardonically.
"A figure of-" Deucalion choked.
"Yup, she even called me the Royal Alpha, and believe me, that's the smallest of the problems I have to deal with. Are you sure that you don't want to run away, after all?" he asked, half-jokingly and half-seriously. He hoped that it wouldn't make Deucalion change his mind about them...
"Are you trying to scare me away? Because I'll let you know that I quite like the challenge. So no, I'm not going anywhere, though I plan on having a talk with Marin, it's long overdue," Deucalion said grimly, and Scott exhaled in relief that the man didn’t find his alleged title off-putting.
"I already told her that she needs to talk with you, since I didn't like the way she was so eager to switch her loyalties. If she was ever loyal to anyone other than herself, anyway," he added.
"That's quite an apt summary of her personality," Deucalion commented wryly. "Thank you for telling me. I must admit that I enjoy your openness, it's like a breath of fresh air."
Scott swallowed with difficulty, as he actually felt guilty about keeping secrets from the man whom he wanted to date, but he needed to be completely sure of him before he revealed the truth about… well, everything. Still, he knew that lies were able to destroy even the best of relationships, so he could only hope that it won't be the case with them.
"I'm still hiding a lot from you," he warned.
"But you're open about it and it's something I can appreciate."
"I don't want you ever to feel tricked or betrayed, I'm not the kind of a person who would stab anyone in the back, much less someone I’d like to be with," he confessed quietly.
“Scott… I thought that you wanted to get to know me better first,” Deucalion said carefully.
“I do,” Scott said with conviction. “But it’s not like I want some kind of a trial period without any emotional attachment. I can’t promise you that our being together will work out, but… I’d like it to. I honestly can’t wait to see you on Saturday.”
“I was worried that my attraction to you is completely one sided and that you’re just humoring me,” the man admitted.
“I wouldn’t do that. Surely, you know me enough by now to realize that?” he asked softly.
“I know that, but fears are rarely rational.”
Scott nodded. “That’s true, unfortunately. But please, promise me that if you ever start doubting me, you’ll call me, alright?”
“I will,” the man agreed. “Thank you, you made my day… brighter, somehow.”
“And so did you, I feel like I can breathe easier now. So, see you on Saturday?”
“Yes, the weekend can’t come soon enough. Goodbye, Scott.”
"Goodbye," he smiled, happy that Deucalion was as excited about their date as he was.
He put the phone away and stretched lazily. He truly felt better after their talk, as if a huge weight was lifted off his shoulders. He didn't know how or when that happened, but he honestly enjoyed talking with Deucalion, no matter if they spoke about serious matters or something trivial.
There was something special about that man… Where the outside world was involved, he was tough and unafraid, yet he seemed very sensitive in the matters of heart, and Scott was honestly afraid to hurt him, even unintentionally. He hoped that it wouldn't ever come to that, though.
Notes:
Yup, Deucalion's back, and soon we'll get to everything that was brewing from quite some time: the Nemeton, Scott being the Royal Alpha, and much more.
Things are about to get quite interesting... And on top of that, Deucalion and Scott are going on a date - finally!
Chapter 94
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
On Thursday morning Deucalion woke up well rested and realized that he was feeling better than he'd had in quite a long time. He snuggled deeper into the warm duvet and thought with giddy disbelief that he was waiting for the weekend with so much excitement as if he was an infatuated teenage boy instead of a middle aged man.
But he had a very important reason for that: he was going on a date. And even more importantly, he was going on a date with the very boy who had stolen his heart almost effortlessly, as if it had always been his and Scott just claimed what already belonged to him. And maybe that was truly the case?...
Once, Deucalion had been a romantic. His parents had always kept telling him stories about how they had fallen in love with each other at the very first sight, and how after they'd married they never wanted to be with anyone else. They had created a home full of love so warm it was almost palpable in each small, caring gesture, in every kiss stolen out of the blue, and every bouquet of flowers bought by his father without any occasion.
If they were still alive, they would have been ecstatic to know that their son finally gave his heart to another. His mother especially would have doted on Scott, he just knew it… He shook his head, knowing that these thoughts were futile.
Yes, he had been a romantic once, but life proved time and time again that being one was a sure way of having his heart broken. Not to mention that once he had been blinded, his love life suddenly became nonexistent. Not that he had been living as a celibate those eight years, as every once in a while he bought the services of a professional sex worker who didn't mind sleeping with a blind man. Still, those nights had been few and far between, and always left him with a sour taste in his mouth.
After Marco, he hadn't attempted to bed another werewolf, though.
He shook himself from his thoughts and got up from the bed. The past didn't matter, nor did the future, which surely had yet another heartbreak in store for him. No, all he wanted to focus now was the present, he wanted to allow himself to be happy, if only for a short while.
He went to the kitchen and decided to make breakfast for everyone, belatedly realizing that he needed to get some practice before preparing dinner for Scott. After such a long time of letting others cook for him, he felt ridiculously out of his element in the kitchen.
Apparently, he made quite a ruckus trying to find a bowl and a pan in the numerous cupboards, since the twins peered curiously through the door.
"What's happening?" Aiden asked while Ethan tried and failed to stifle a yawn.
"As unbelievable as it may seem, I'm trying to prepare breakfast," he deadpanned and was rewarded with seeing their jaws dropped. "I know, incredible, isn't it?"
"You cook?" Aiden asked, dumbfounded.
"Yes, I cook," he said mockingly. "Or at least I did… a couple of years ago, so I may be a little out of practice. Now, instead of standing there uselessly, care to tell me where I can find a pan?"
***
His attempt at preparing an omelette ended up rather pathetic. He couldn't get the trick of flipping it to the other side and what was supposed to be an omelette ended up resembling scrambled eggs mixed with vegetables.
He stared at the product of his work with horror mixed with despair.
"Um… it may look awful, but it's tasty," Ethan said as he stole a bite right from the pan.
Aiden looked at his brother with disbelief, before he too grabbed a fork and tried the eggs with visible apprehension. Once he swallowed his bite, he nodded approvingly.
"He's right, this-" he hesitated, searching for the right word," -meal looks like a disaster, but it's actually quite good. Come on, let's eat."
As the twins started to fill the plates for everyone, Kali appeared in the doorway, blinking with confusion.
"Do I smell an actual meal?" she asked bemusedly.
"Yup, Deucalion cooked," Ethan chirped with a smile, while Aiden added: "A word of advice, though: don't look at it, just try it."
Somehow, his words made Kali look even more apprehensive, but she didn't protest as she was given a plate. Once they were all sitting at the table and enjoying their breakfast, she asked: "So, what's the occasion?"
Deucalion cleared his throat. "I realized that I needed to practice a bit before Saturday," he answered vaguely.
"What's happening on Saturday?" Ethan asked curiously.
Deucalion was silent for a moment. He truly didn't know how his pack would react to the fact that he was seeing another werewolf. And not just any werewolf, but this particular Alpha… Still, no matter their opinion, he wasn't going to change his plans.
"Scott's going to drop with a visit. I thought that I could cook him dinner," he answered finally, which made everyone stare at him as if he had just grown a second head.
"That's... nice of you?" Ethan said uncertainly.
Before Deucalion could say anything, Kali put down her fork with a loud clatter.
"Why are you suddenly playing nice with a rival Alpha? Is it because he healed you and you feel indebted to him?"
Deucalion straightened in his seat and looked at her cooly. "It seems that you've forgotten your place. My affairs are no business of yours."
"They are if they affect the pack's standing," she argued. "I just don't get why you are acting so… meek where that boy's concerned!"
There was a sudden silence, and the twins looked worriedly between the two of them, as if expecting a ticking bomb to blow up anytime now.
"Not meek," Deucalion corrected her, trying to remain calm. "The word that you're looking for is considerate, courteous and respectful. Let me remind you that Scott not only healed my wounds, he also gave me my eyesight back which no one else was able to. He also helped you get better after what happened with Ennis, so I don't understand why you are suddenly so hostile toward him?"
She pressed her lips tightly. "If he didn't take Ennis' Alpha power away, none of this would have happened and Ennis would've still lived!"
"And then you wouldn't have known that your lover cared more for power than he did for you, is that what you wanted to say? Well, let me tell you that I don't intend to let your failure of love life affect mine!" he retorted angrily.
She looked at him, shocked and hurt by his words, then stood up with too much force, causing her chair to wobble unsteadily, and left the apartment hurriedly without looking back. Once the door shut down behind her, Deucalion rubbed his eyes tiredly. He hadn't intended to be so harsh with her, but her words had awoken the demons of his own past which he would rather forget.
After a moment of tense silence Aiden asked quietly: "Love life? Does it mean that you and Scott..."
Deucalion opened his eyes and realized that the twins' faces were unusually serious, almost grave. "Yes, we're dating, but let me stress that it's my business and no one else's," he said stiffly.
"But… isn't he younger than us?" Ethan asked in a small voice.
Deucalion looked at him, surprised. "Are you worried on his behalf?" when Ethan nodded timidly, Deucalion couldn't help it, he smiled warmly. "Boys, I'm as far from abusing Scott as possible, so stop fretting. Besides, it was he who asked me out on a date."
Aiden whistled, impressed. "Wow, if I didn't already know that he's dauntless, this would definitely prove it." Ethan nodded enthusiastically, something like hero worship entering his eyes.
This made Deucalion consider how much he had changed recently. Not that long ago he would have punished them for even thinking about another Alpha with such respect, and now… Now he was happy that they thought about Scott so highly, as it gave him hope that their packs could coexist peacefully, after all.
"He even asked about you and Kali," he revealed.
"Really?" Ethan perked up visibly. "He wasn't angry with us for kidnapping his friends?"
"You would need to ask him, but he seemed genuinely interested in how you were doing."
The twins looked at each other, communicating nonverbally by using only the small changes of their face expressions. It was something that they had always been able to do, to exchange their thoughts without words, and Deucalion found it utterly fascinating. He briefly wondered if their closeness could be utilized in their werewolf forms, but that was a thought for another day.
Suddenly, he heard quiet footsteps in the hall which were getting closer to their apartment, so he raised his hand warningly to show the twins that they should remain quiet. He focused on his senses, and from the sound of it he suspected it to be a woman or someone young, as the footsteps seemed too light to belong to a man. As the person got closer, he got a sniff of their smell and he scowled.
"That's Marin," he told the twins. "I have an unfinished business to discuss with her and I suspect that it may escalate very quickly."
"What did she do?" Aiden asked, frowning.
“She offered her services to Scott but without much success,” Deucalion smirked. “Neither he nor I take disloyalty well, so as you can imagine, he wasn’t impressed with her attempt to switch packs.”
The footsteps stopped and a knock could be heard.
“Boys, let her in and then show yourself out. I want to talk with our soon-to-be former emissary in private,” he drawled, and the boys instantly obeyed.
Deucalion stood up and went to get his eyeglasses. He didn’t know if Scott had told her that he'd cured his blindness in addition to his wounds, but if the teen hadn’t, he wanted to use the element of surprise and see how she would react.
He got the feeling that this will be quite an interesting conversation.
Notes:
Yup, Marin's in for quite an unpleasant talk!
Aaand, it's revealed that the twins don't know yet that they could merge into a giant werewolf. This is due to the fact that the Alpha Pack came into Beacon Hills a couple of months earlier than the last time.
Stay happy and healthy and take care of yourself!
Chapter Text
Thursday came much quicker than Scott would've liked. He realized that he had an afternoon shift at the animal clinic and he still hadn't contacted Alan yet, even though he'd promised the man to keep in touch. It was a high time he finally talked with his emissary.
Which gave him an idea…
"Lydia, I've got work today at the animal clinic, do you want to come with me?" he offered during the break.
"Why would I want to? It must be dreadfully boring," she complained, wrinkling her nose in distaste. "Besides, it sounds like you're doing actual work and my nails don't like it when I'm doing anything physical."
"Most of the time it's pretty calm at the clinic, so no one expects you to do anything, don't worry," he assured her. "I just hoped to pick up Deaton's brain on the Nemeton, so it's something that you might find useful as well."
"He's some kind of a pagan priest, right?" she asked sceptically, but her eyes brightened as they always did when something caught her interest.
"That's right, he's a druid. His knowledge of the supernatural is extensive, though most of the time he keeps it close to his chest. I hope that once he hears about your connection with the Nemeton-"
"Involuntary connection," she muttered rebelliously under her breath, though without any true venom.
"-then he might be convinced to share some of that knowledge with us," he finished as if he wasn't interrupted.
"There's something that you don't know?" Allison teased him as she and Isaac joined them.
"I know more than most, but still not enough to call myself an expert on the Nemeton," he said honestly, then turned to Lydia. "So, interested?"
"Alright, I'll go with you," the girl conceded.
"Awesome!" Scott smiled widely.
He felt a little guilty that he hadn't spent enough time with her yet to form a closer connection, but it was something that he planned to rectify. This younger version of Lydia wasn't yet as wise and experienced as her older counterpart and still put a lot of importance on looks and social standing, but the core of her personality was pure brilliance, and that remained unchanged.
"Do you want all of us to go with you, or just Lydia?" Isaac asked, looking conflicted.
Scott squeezed his arm gently. "I know that you wanted to work on the biology project with Allison in the afternoon, there's no need to change your plans. It's only the animal clinic, nothing special or extraordinary. We'll be fine."
"Yes, we definitely don't want to intrude on your "biology project"," Lydia sent them a saucy wink.
"We're going to work on DNA replication," Allison said defensively.
"Of course you are," Lydia said patronizingly, patting her hand. "Just make sure that your DNA doesn't mix with Isaac's too enthusiastically…"
"Lydia!" Allison protested with a slight blush and they all laughed.
***
Despite every expectation, the afternoon shift at the animal clinic was pure chaos. Scott didn't even get the chance to explain to Deaton why Lydia was accompanying him, they were just thrown straight into what looked like the middle of a battlefield. Alan took the most complicated cases like surgeries, while they took care of everything else.
He was glad that he had an assistant in Lydia, who - despite her earlier protests that she doesn't do physical work - started to help without any complaint once she saw the suffering animals. After they patched a hedgehog who had been injured by a bicycle, they needed to take care of a litter of kittens whose mother's fate was unknown. The little ones were starved to the brink of death, and Lydia dutifully fed them from the bottle after Scott had cleaned their wounds. The worst of their injuries were already infested with maggots and he had to remove the dead tissue with a scalpel.
"Scott, look at this one's eyes," Lydia whispered, horrified.
It was the smallest kitten, barely moving at all. Its eyes were swollen and before Scott cleansed them, completely covered by puss and dirt.
"It might lose its eyesight completely," Scott said sadly, doing the last finishing touches on the wound.
"Can't you do something? Heal it, like you did with your own eyes?" she asked desperately.
He shook his head. "I’ve already tried to heal animals, but it didn't work. The only thing I can do is to take away some of their pain," he explained softly.
She looked as if she wanted to say something when the door opened up abruptly and a woman came in, tears flowing down her cheeks.
"Please, you must help me, my dog- I was parking my car, I didn't see Wendy, she came out of nowhere…" the woman cried, shaking.
The dog turned out to be a labrador who must have been a beautiful animal once, but was now barely breathing, its fur mangled and covered in blood. Scott moved it carefully from the woman's car into the clinic and onto the table. Considering that the broken bones punctured its vital organs, the dog needed a surgery now or else it wouldn't make it... And even with surgery it might die still. While Scott had been a vet for some time in his first life, he quickly realized that these injuries were too serious for him to treat.
Lydia talked with the woman calmingly while Scott went to consult Deaton. The man looked up from an older German Shepherd which had been scheduled for a cancer surgery and from the look of it, Alan didn't yet remove the tumor.
"I wish I could help the labrador, but I need to finish this surgery first," the man said tiredly.
Scott shook his head, he knew that Wendy wouldn't make it that long. "I can do the cancer surgery, but the labrador will die if you don't help it. Trust me, please, I can do it," he pleaded.
Deaton's gaze was considering. "Are you completely, absolutely sure?"
"I am," Scott confirmed firmly.
"You know the drill then, clean up your hands and we'll switch," the man agreed.
***
Thankfully, both dogs survived. After their owners left, Deaton decided to close the clinic, even though it should've remained open for half an hour still.
Scott took off his gloves and threw them to the trash bin, then went to clean his hands. He methodically scrubbed each side of his fingers, the space between, and the back and front of his hands, then washed the forearms as well. He rinsed his hands thoroughly and finally looked up, only to meet Deaton's questioning eyes.
"The cancer removal- you've done this before," Deaton commented, his face suddenly blank. When Scott nodded, he said with a sudden certainty: "You're a time traveller."
Scott's head snapped up in shock. "How… how did you know?" he asked weakly.
"I had my suspicions for quite a while now, but today confirmed it without a doubt. Knowledge can be gained or even stolen in various ways, but a skill required to perform such a surgery… No one can do this without any supervision on their first try," Alan explained. "How did it come to this?"
Scott bit his lip. "Actually, it was you who sent me here. After the war between the hunters and werewolves you found me and told me about a ritual - I hope that I remember the name correctly - called Gwehyddu tapestri bywyd."
"Weaving the tapestry of life," Deaton exhaled deeply, suddenly looking overwhelmed. "It can't be…"
"Why?" Lydia asked curiously. "What's so special about it?"
Deaton looked pained, so Scott walked up to him and put a hand on his arm comfortingly.
"It's alright, I know about the consequences," he said quietly. "Your older self made sure that I understood exactly what I was getting into."
"What consequences?" Lydia asked, watching them both.
Seeing Alan's reluctance to talk, Scott ran a hand through his hair and explained: "It's an age-old ritual which takes its roots from Wales. It basically allows a person to… re-weave their life as if it was a tapestry, using the same threads but not necessarily in the same way. I don't have to stick to the events from my first life, I can change them, but not without a price."
"Did my counterpart tell you what price you will be required to pay?" Deaton asked, almost angrily, though who or what he was angry with, it was hard to say.
"For each changed thread I will have to pay in pain and blood," Scott said tiredly. "Since I've changed so much, I suspect that I'm living on borrowed time already, but... it was worth it."
"Scott, what are you saying?" Lydia asked, aghast.
The young werewolf looked away, suddenly unable to look her in the eye. There was a reason why he hugged his friends each time he got the chance, why he wasn't hesitant in letting people know how much they meant to him. His beloved, wonderful packmates, both human and supernatural... He was trying to create a better world for them - not for himself. Never for himself.
"My life's expectancy is quite short this time around," he said with a sad, crooked smile.
"How can you say it like- like you're alright with it!" she protested, and he marvelled how beautiful she was when she was so angry and disbelieving.
He vaguely remembered how it had been, to be that young and innocent, when it seemed that death only happened to those old and sick, and never to someone close to him. But that had been so long ago, and he'd become intimately acquainted with pain, death and loss since then.
"It's not easy," he said finally, "but I've already lived my life once, and I'd do everything so that you get the chance to live yours."
"But why aren't you fighting it, why aren't you trying to find a way out of it?" she asked desperately.
It was Deaton who answered her: "It's like a debt, the more Scott tries to play for time, the higher the cost will be in the end. Avoiding paying it off would have dire consequences, not only for the time traveller, but also for everyone who benefitted from the changes in the new timeline."
For once in her life Lydia looked lost and helpless, so Scott took a step in her direction as if she was a wild animal that needed to be soothed. Slowly, he circled her with his arm and pulled her close to him. The way she sagged into his embrace reminded him how young she was, and he caressed her back gently.
"These are the consequences that I just can't outrun… And I wouldn't want to. The chance to see you all again, alive and happy, it's worth every price," he said quietly.
"But… It's not fair, I just started to like you!" she protested, sniffling.
He smiled at her words. "Don't worry, I don't know how much time I still have, weeks or months or maybe even years, but for now I'm not going anywhere," he assured her.
He had so many plans still, it was hard for him to think that he might not get to complete them all. There were so many disasters to avoid, so many people to save... But he had no guarantee that he would be able to protect them all before his time came.
He could only hope.
Chapter Text
Once Lydia calmed down a little, Scott started to explain everything that had happened to him in the new timeline. Alan listened to his tale with growing amazement, because while time travel in itself was incredible, everything that had happened to Scott afterwards was no less amazing.
The part of his story about the place between life and death and meeting a mystical, symbiotic entity who used the Banshee in order to communicate with Scott, was the part which interested Alan the most.
"That's incredible, it's been a while since someone managed to get in contact with Nemeton's avatar," he said with wide eyes.
"Avatar?" Lydia asked, intrigued.
"A manifestation of a divine being," he explained. "It was the reason why druids considered the Nemetons sacred, because they were the mediums through which the ancient deities communicated with this world. Although, ever since the Christianity started to oust the old pagan rites, the Nemetons across the planet became dormant, their powers reduced to a shade of what they'd been in the ancient times. If California's Nemeton has awoken… It's wonderful news, but also quite concerning, since I can’t imagine what repercussions it might have in the long run."
"I hate to sound conceited but- is it because of something that I did?" Scott asked with a frown.
Alan considered the question carefully. The time travel ritual that Scott had performed required an enormous amount of power and it was supposed to be the last resort that could only be used by those who were truly fearless. It wouldn't have worked for a lesser man; many had tried and failed, their attempts at the ritual coming to naught despite every other condition being met.
If Scott's attempt had been successful (and everything pointed to the conclusion that it had), it wasn't that farfetched to assume that the boy's landing in the past was only one of the many consequences. It’s like a pebble thrown into water, creating multiple ripples in all directions.
"It's possible," he said finally. "You must know that you're not the first one who tried to perform the Gwehyddu tapestri bywyd ritual, but to my knowledge, you're the only one who actually succeeded. It's rumoured that only a man without even a shade of fear or doubt in his heart would be able to turn back time. So how did you manage it?"
The young Alpha looked away, his eyes losing focus as he gazed deep into himself. Alan didn't know what he saw in there, but whatever it was, it wasn't easy to bear.
"The key to having nothing to fear..." Scott said slowly as he looked up, his eyes dull and lifeless, "... is having nothing to lose."
It was a heartbreaking sight and Alan hated to see that defeated look on the boy who was cheerful and carefree most of the time. Even though he knew that Scott was no longer a teenager in mind, that still didn't make it any better or easier to watch as he recalled his past.
"How did the meeting with Nemeton's avatar end?" he asked, trying to take Scott's thoughts away from the painful memories.
"It's not that easy to leave the in-between," the teen said quietly. "The urge to cross the pathway and succumb to death is strong and compelling, almost unbearably so. I almost gave in, but then I remembered that my pack counted on me, I couldn't have left them alone. But the price for getting back to the living was high..."
Scott fell silent for a long moment. Seeing that, Lydia picked up from there and continued the boy’s tale. "From what I understood, it was an exchange: Meredith gave her life so that Scott could live. But that left Nemeton without a person to communicate through with the rest of the world, so he made a deal that I would take her place."
Scott shook his head. "No, Lydia, I only agreed to lead you to the Nemeton so that you could meet and discuss it. You still have a choice in this."
Alan looked at the girl, amazed by the knowledge that she had a chance to become Nemeton's manifestation, and couldn't help feeling envious at the thought.
For years he had felt that his becoming a druid was a mistake. After the Hale house had been burned to the ground, he'd withdrawn from the supernatural world and pretended, even before himself, that he was nothing more than a simple veterinarian. It was an easy, simple life, and he had once thought that it would be enough for him, especially after what had happened to the Hale Pack.
He had been wrong.
Only he knew how many nights he lay sleeplessly in his bed, feeling a dull pain in his chest at the thought that his life had lost every bit of magic and wonder which once had made him pursue the arcane knowledge and ultimately led him to becoming a druid. But during the last couple of weeks he had a feeling as if the world around him had awoken, the telluric currents seemed energized, slowly but surely gaining in power.
And now he had quite a fair suspicion, why.
"Dr Deaton, do you know if there are any downsides to becoming linked with the Nemeton? You know, the fine-print kind of details that I should know of before making a decision?" Lydia asked.
He thought about it for a moment before replying. "What I know about mystical beings is that they don't outright lie, but they are masters of being vague and misleading. It may not necessarily be because they wish to deceit humans, but because of the difference in ours and their understanding of the world. They may wear human faces, but they're not like us. I'm sorry that I can't tell you more, my sister might have more answers than I, though, since old legends and myths have always been her specialty."
Scott frowned at the suggestion. "About Marin… Can I trust that you won't tell her about anything that we've just spoken, unless I give you green light? I've never trusted her all that much, but after her latest actions I trust her even less than before."
Alan knew perfectly well that his sister had a habit of trying to manipulate the people around her (himself included) and very often got into trouble as a result. "Scott, I agreed to be your emissary, and I take that role very seriously. I won't tell Marin anything that you don't wish me to,” he assured the young Alpha. “Can I ask what did she do to make you so suspicious of her?"
"What do you know about the legend of the Royal Alpha?" Scott asked, instead, his gaze sharp and considering, and Alan suppressed the urge to squirm. He was aware of his sister's obsession with that legend, once she had even tried to convince him that Deucalion fit the description, but Alan remained doubtful of that theory of hers.
He was quite surprised that she had mentioned that myth to Scott, though.
"A majority of what I know is what she told me, so my knowledge is mostly second-hand. Why do you ask?"
"She is under the impression that I am one," Scott said impassively, "and offered to become my emissary, which seems quite underhanded since she must have known that you’ve already agreed to assume that role."
Alan gritted his teeth, trying to rein in his anger at Marin. He knew that she was quite ambitious, but this… it was a punch way under the belt. He definitely needed to talk with her, and quickly, before she did even more damage and managed to alienate even more people.
***
Marin walked through the woods aimlessly, her thoughts troubled and scattered after her talk with Deucalion. She couldn't help remembering that conversation over and over again, replaying word after word, as if that could help her any.
"I must thank you," the Alpha said to her as she entered his flat.
"What for?" she asked, surprised.
"For disappearing after my confrontation with Scott. It allowed me to think carefully about what I expect from my emissary, and being disloyal and generally unhelpful is hardly on that list," the man drawled sarcastically.
"I needed to do some research…" she started to explain but he interrupted her.
"About the Royal Alpha?"
"You talked with Scott," she said with a sudden realization.
"I did. For someone so intelligent, you're far from being wise. You see, when you buried yourself in some dusty old tomes, I learned who Scott truly is, not what ridiculous title the myths give him, but who he is deep inside. And let me tell you, if you wanted to gain his trust, you went about it the worst possible way."
She remembered how she had felt offended then, the hot anger that had burned her insides like an acid.
"What would you know about it?" she sneered. "You're just a murderer with delusions of grandeur, but what you truly are is a spiteful, blind man."
"Is that all? I'm not impressed, to be honest, especially since your knowledge of me is quite outdated," he said with that irritating smirk of his, and took his sunglasses off.
She swallowed with difficulty at the memory. Apparently, Scott had done the impossible and healed a years-old wound which even her brother had deemed incurable, and Alan was the most talented healer she knew.
"How's that even possible?..." she asked, shocked.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Deucalion said mockingly. "But I'm afraid that this conversation, and our acquaintance, must now come to an end. You see, in the last few days I've learned the importance of loyalty, and it's a feature that you're sorely lacking. Find yourself another pack, if you want, but stay the hell away from mine."
He had pushed her out of the apartment then, causing her to stumble in the process. She would've fallen to the floor if it wasn't for the railing which she had managed to grab at the last moment.
"Did you tell Scott about everything that you did, each murder, each evil deed staining your conscience?" she asked coldly as she straightened, tilting her chin up stubbornly. "Don't forget that since I know everything, I could tell Scott all about it and ruin your chances of staying allied with him… Unless you convince him to consider me as his emissary."
"Are you trying to blackmail me?” he asked, clearly amused, which infuriated her even more. “Poor Marin, you've already lost and you still don't realize it," he shook his head with pity. "I have nothing to hide from Scott, even the ugliest truths. But consider this: if you’ll approach him only to tell him about my wrongdoings, what would that tell him about you ?"
She wondered how and when Deucalion had gained this sudden insight into Scott's personality. But most of all, how had the man convinced the young Alpha to heal not only his wounds, but also his eyes? What had Deucalion offered to the boy in return?
But even all those questions couldn't make her forget the most painful one: how could she have miscalculated so badly?
Chapter Text
It was Friday when Scott realized that he had neglected his pup these last couple of days, and instantly felt guilty at the thought. He knew that he had a lot on his mind as of late, but it wasn't an excuse to cut off the contact with Liam and his parents altogether. He didn't even know if they were staying in Derek's loft still, or if they had already returned to their house.
When he had texted Derek about it, instead of a reply he received an invitation to visit and see for himself. The somewhat vague response piqued his interest even more, so he decided to go there first thing after classes. Besides, he could use some quality time with Derek as well, he was so wrung out after the whole week that the only thing that he dreamed of at this point was to curl up beside his packmate and just let himself be.
When he entered Derek's loft, he looked around curiously. It seemed that the Dunbars had already vacated the place and he raised a questioning eyebrow in Derek's direction.
"They're on the second floor," the werewolf revealed. "They didn't want to go back to their old house, but this apartment was way too small for them in the long run, so… I offered them the whole floor so that they had enough space just for them."
Scott was floored, it was such a generous and thoughtful gesture, and one that most people would have never expected Derek to make. But he knew that his former Beta took pack solidarity very seriously and once Derek had learned that Scott considered the Dunbars his extended family, he had become invested in making sure that they had a proper place to stay.
"Thank you," he said heartfully and kissed his packmate's cheek. "I had too much on my mind recently, so I really appreciate that you took care of my pup and his parents for me."
Derek shrugged awkwardly in response, though the faint blush on his cheekbones revealed that he wasn't unaffected by Scott's gratefulness.
"That's what I'm here for, to make your life easier and help whenever I can. Though most of the time I feel rather useless, since you seem perfectly capable of doing everything by yourself," he said unhappily with his trademark frown.
"I may seem strong most of the time, but that's only because I have you and Peter by my side. I don’t want to hear you doubting yourself ever again," Scott chided gently.
In response, his packmate grumbled something along the lines of ‘that’s easy for you to say’ under his breath, but Scott simply ignored his scowl and kissed his cheek again for good measure, then tugged him to the kitchen. He grabbed two mugs from the cupboard and started to boil the water.
"Sooo, you and Stiles, how did that happen? Are you two together?" he asked after a moment.
"Yes- well, not exactly- it's complicated,” Derek scratched his neck, looking awkward and entirely out of his element.
Scott blinked, surprised. One would've thought that there were only two options available, that they were either dating or not, but apparently things between Derek and Stiles couldn’t ever be that simple. Admittedly, both of them had quite unique personalities, so it was no wonder they had clashed in the past so often. That they were trying to change their volatile relation into something more… it was nothing short but astonishing. Still, he couldn’t help but think that their dating attempt will end spectacularly, either with a huge row, or a wild sex. Or both.
He finished preparing tea (raspberry for himself and earl grey for Derek, which he knew was his favourite) and they sat at the table, side by side.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he offered. “We don’t have to, of course.”
“Am I talking with Stiles’ friend now, or with my Alpha?” the man asked hesitantly.
Scott couldn't deny the sudden surge of pleasure and possessiveness he felt at the reminder that - even despite Derek's own status as an Alpha - he still saw him as one. Still, his packmate's question made him frown. Was Derek afraid that Scott was going to take sides, or that he would reveal everything to Stiles afterwards?
“Your Alpha, and a friend. Your thoughts and feelings are safe with me, I won’t share them with anyone else,” he said seriously, then added: “Same as I wouldn’t tell you anything if I had a similar talk with Stiles.”
"I thought that since he's been your friend for so long-" the man fidgeted uneasily in his chair.
"What? That I would take his side, or treat you differently? Derek, I love you. You're as much important to me as Stiles is. Where did these doubts come from?" he asked gently.
"It's nothing, I'm just not used to-" the man shook his head, his jaw clenching.
Scott didn't press and just sipped his tea, giving his packmate the time to gather his thoughts.
"I'm not used to being valued, okay? I was always less important than everyone else. Mother always chose Peter for gathering intel and Laura for diplomatic missions, and I was just a socially awkward kid whose only achievement, if it could even be called that, was gaining blue eyes at the age of fifteen," Derek said bitterly. "I know that it's different with you, that I finally matter, but... Sometimes I just can't help but doubt everything good that's now happening in my life."
Scott pressed his lips, trying to stop himself from criticizing Talia as an Alpha and as a mother. He knew that she had been once hailed as one of the greatest Alphas of her time, but the ideal picture of her pack that she had projected to the world had been nothing more than just that: a pretty picture, far different from the reality.
He wondered what he should do to finally make Derek believe his worth, and he came up with nothing. Everyone needed to battle their own demons, he couldn't do it for his packmates, no matter how much he might want to. The only thing that he could do, was to love them and let them know that he was there if they needed him.
"That's alright, we both have scars from our pasts, I get that," he said finally, "but you don't have to hide them or pretend that they don't exist, not with me."
He stood up and placed a hand on the back of Derek's neck. When he felt how tightly wound Derek's muscles were, he started to massage them gently, his thumbs kneading the stiff shoulders with care. All the while he kept sending small impulses of warmth through their bond, careful not to overwhelm his packmate.
"Thank you," Derek murmured after a moment, and Scott returned to his chair, wanting to give him some space.
"You're welcome. Now, do you want to talk about your relationship with Stiles, or anything else for that matter? Don't feel pressured, though, we don't have to talk about anything that you don't feel ready to share."
"I think it's too early to say, we're going out on Sunday and we'll see what happens then," Derek said impassively, but Scott knew better than to think that he didn't care. If anything, Derek has always cared too much.
"Alright, but let me know if you need a willing ear, and I'll come straight away," he offered.
Derek nodded gratefully. "There's one thing I wanted to ask you, though…" he started hesitantly. "Don't you think that I'm too old for Stiles? Seven years age gap is- What are you laughing about?" he asked, disgruntled.
Scott couldn't help it, once he’d heard the question he started to giggle uncontrollably, clutching his belly. Seeing Derek's scowl and darkening face, he waved his hand, trying to show him that he needed a minute. He breathed deeply, trying to contain his laughter, and wiped off the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.
"Sorry," he finally managed to choke out. "I wasn't laughing at you, I swear. It's just- I'm literally the last person you should be asking what is an acceptable age gap, considering who I asked out on a date myself."
Derek looked slightly appeased by the apologies, but raised his eyebrow inquisitively, as if asking him to spill it out.
"Deucalion," Scott admitted sheepishly, trying to hide his nervousness at finally revealing the truth to one of his packmates. "I have a date with Deucalion tomorrow."
Derek's eyes turned wide as saucers, and his jaw dropped slightly in shock. "You're going out with-"
"Yup, I am. So you see, the fact that you're seven years older than Stiles is hardly that impressive in comparison," Scott said with a lopsided grin.
"Does anyone else know about it?"
"No, you're the first one I've told," he said honestly.
Derek's eyes gentled as he said: "Thank you for trusting me with this. Are you sure that this is what you want? I know that he was important to you in your past life, but here he's only been trouble so far."
"I know, but- There's just something in him that resonates deeply with me. I can't say more, since I don't want to risk revealing anything personal about him. Still, it feels good to be near him, and I like that feeling," Scott said quietly, looking at his palms soberly.
He looked up when Derek took his hand in his.
"Scott, I can't say that I understand your choice, but you deserve a chance to be happy," the man said softly. “If Deucalion’s the one who makes you feel that way, then- well, go for it.”
Scott felt dizzy from sheer relief. He had been really nervous about how his news would be received, and getting such a warm approval made him feel slightly faint.
Derek seemed to realize this, as he squeezed his hand comfortingly. “Do you want to…?” he asked, looking at the bed and then back at Scott.
“Yeah, I’d like that very much,” the teen admitted.
They undressed down to their underwear and dived under the duvet, wiggling and turning. “I've missed this,” Scott whispered into Derek’s chest once they finally found the most comfortable position.
He felt a gentle hand caressing his back in response, and in that instant he knew without any doubts that Derek had missed their snuggle time as much as he had.
Chapter 98
Notes:
It's my husband's birthday, but he got vaccinated against COVID yesterday and was feeling slightly off today, so nothing came from our grand plans :(
Still, that meant more time for me to write fanfiction, so there you go, lots and lots of pack feels in this chapter!(btw. my husband bought me flowers today, a bouquet of tulips, even though it's his birthday, not mine. I wish you all to be as lucky in love as I am!)
Happy reading!
Chapter Text
Derek's body warmth was doing wonders on his frayed nerves and Scott actually started to pleasantly doze off when a loud knocking caused him to jump slightly. He groaned and pulled Derek even closer, as if that would somehow make the visitor go away.
"Let's just pretend that no one's home," he muttered sleepily, causing Derek to chuckle.
That method apparently didn't work as expected, since the knocking persisted.
"Mr Hale, sir? Are you there?" Liam's voice could be heard through the loft walls.
"Open the door, it's your apartment," Scott said, opening his eyes lazily.
"It might be my apartment, but he's your kid," Derek replied with a smirk and Scott sighed long-sufferingly, but got up without any complaint and went to the door, eager to see his pup.
"Scott, you're here!" The boy bounced happily, and Scott opened his arms just in time to catch him into a bear hug.
"Hi kiddo," he said with a wide smile. "Missed me much?"
"You have no idea! Wait, why are you almost naked?..." Liam finally looked at Scott's bare chest and legs, his eyes widening comically. He seemed even more shocked once Derek joined them in an equally undressed state. "Are you two… were you just…?"
Before the poor boy started to hyperventilate, Scott patted him calmingly on the arm. "No, we're not together, and we weren't making out or anything like that. We're werewolves, we enjoy physical closeness, that's all." Liam looked at him without comprehension, and Scott rolled his eyes. "We like cuddles," he explained simply.
Liam's mouth formed a small 'o' in shock.
"I think that you broke him," Derek said with a smirk. "Maybe he should join us sometime to know first-handedly how good it feels?"
Liam turned bright red at the suggestion, but rather than protest, he actually started to look hopeful. "Really? You'd let me?" he asked eagerly.
"Alright, but not today, I'd rather not explain that to your parents," Scott said with a shudder. He was not looking forward to that conversation, and he still had to warm them up to the idea of making Liam a werewolf in the near future.
"Why? If it's just hugs, they shouldn't have anything against it, right?" Liam asked innocently.
"Kiddo, for parents there's no such thing as 'just hugs' between their child and two grown up men. It's only natural that they would be wary at first," Scott explained gently. "Now, give us a moment to get dressed, and then I want you to tell me everything about how your week has been."
***
The last week had been awful for Liam, but he didn't want to burden anyone by complaining about it.
The attack on his family had made the first page in the local newspaper and quickly became public knowledge. It probably shouldn't surprise him that - once he'd returned to school on Tuesday - he'd had to fend off multiple questions from people he knew, and endure inquisitive stares and whispers behind his back from those he didn't. Maybe he should've expected that, but somehow it hadn't crossed his mind and he'd been taken off guard by the amount of unwanted attention that he'd been getting these past few days.
He'd told nothing about this to his parents, though, as they had enough on their plate already. His mom had thrown herself into work in an attempt to take her mind away from everything that had happened to them, while his stepdad had been busy between the job at the hospital and moving stuff from their old house to the new apartments that Mr Hale had lent to them.
The fact that the man owned the whole building still boggled his mind, but he was far from complaining. There were two separate flats on their floor and Liam had eagerly claimed the smaller one all for himself. It was a small blessing that he had a place where he didn't have to pretend to be fine. Without it, he surely would've broken down already.
When he was showing his flat to Scott he actually puffed up with pride, even though it wasn't anything special. It had only one bedroom with an ensuite bathroom, and a living room with a small kitchenette. Still, it was his space and he was happy to have it.
"It looks great!" Scott said with enthusiasm. "So, how do you like the new living arrangements?"
"I liked our old house, but after everything that happened there, this is the second best thing," Liam said honestly.
"I wish it wasn't necessary, but…"
Liam shrugged, trying to appear indifferent, though he wasn't sure if he managed to fool Scott with his act. "It's not like anyone can turn back time, so we have to learn to live with- you know. The memories."
Scott got a weird look on his face for a moment which Liam couldn't decipher, but it was gone in an instant.
"So, how have you been?" the werewolf asked after a moment, looking guilty. "I'm sorry that I wasn't there for you these last couple of days, but I had my own affairs to take care of."
"I get it, you have your own life which doesn't involve me… I've missed you, though," he admitted, tugging at the hem of his t-shirt nervously. “Um, you said that werewolves like hugs. Would you mind if we…? I mean, you don’t have to-”
"Oh, Liam," the older teen whispered heartfully as he pulled him close.
It was different from the brief hug that he'd received from Scott as a greeting. This one was more personal, somehow, and gentler too. Once strong arms circled him like a shield, Liam's mask cracked and he felt hot tears escaping his eyes.
"Sorry," he mumbled, sniffling miserably.
"Don't be," Scott said softly, his hands rubbing soothing circles on Liam's back. "There's nothing wrong with allowing yourself to release your emotions. You can be yourself with me."
Somehow, these words were like a wave that finally broke through the dam that he had built around his heart, and Liam started to sob, letting go of all of his pain and fear. He didn't know how long he was crying, clutching at Scott's desperately. All the while the older teen was holding him close, murmuring soothingly into his ear that it would be alright, that together they would get through this.
And Liam believed him.
He finally became aware of his own ragged breathing and he blinked dazedly, his head aching from all the crying.
"Your clothes- Sorry for making such a mess," he said, looking at Scott's hoodie which was damp from tears and snot.
Scott shrugged his apology off. "Don't worry about it, I'll go borrow something from Derek. Maybe go to the bathroom and clean yourself up in the meantime? We can talk afterwards, if you want."
Liam nodded, feeling strangely empty inside, but in a good way, as if a weight which he hadn't even been aware of was suddenly lifted off his shoulders.
"Thank you," he whispered, and Scott ruffled his hair playfully in response.
"No need. You're my pup, remember?"
***
Scott's heart ached at the memory of Liam crying in his arms, and he took the stairs rather than the elevator just to give himself a moment to regain his equilibrium.
His pup was only fourteen, it wasn't fair that he had been forced to witness the most brutal and ugly side of human nature so early in his life. Still, he was glad that the boy trusted him enough to drop his mask and show how he was really feeling rather than just pretend to be fine…
Guiltily, he realized that he tended to do exactly the same thing, to hide his pain from the people that he loved just to spare them the worry. In that moment he promised himself to open up to his pack more, especially with things that he was struggling with. It wasn’t going to be easy, far from it, but still he wanted to try.
When he entered Derek's loft, the man took one look at his ruined hoodie, then went to the drawer without a word. He handed him new clothes with a knowing look. "I knew that the kid was taking everything too well to be true," he muttered.
"My thoughts exactly. I'm glad that he let it go off his chest, finally," Scott said as he put on Derek's t-shirt and sweater on top of it. "Thanks for the clothes, I promise to give them back soon."
"Don't wash them," Derek blurted, and Scott blinked, surprised by the weird request. "Your scent- I want them to smell like you. That way even if we don't see each other for a couple of days, I can still... feel you." Derek explained awkwardly.
"Of course," Scott nodded with an easy acceptance. "If it lessens the strain of being separated from each other, then why not? I'll wear them for a couple of days in a row so that the scent stays for longer."
"You don't think that it's weird? Embarrassing?" Derek asked hesitantly.
"Well, as long as you don't expect me to give you my underwear, it's fine," Scott joked lightly. "Derek, relax. There's nothing wrong with wanting to have some kind of a reminder of an Alpha's presence. I'd say that it's perfectly natural, even though each werewolf has different needs. If this is what you need, then it’s alright.”
Derek ducked his head in embarrassment. "I've never felt this strongly about Talia or Laura, though," he admitted.
"But you weren't particularly close with them, were you?" Scott asked gently, without judgement.
"They were my family, and I loved them, but-" Derek shook his head. "I didn't choose them."
Scott thought for a moment about all the people that he had loved and lost, and about his choice to travel in time just to get them back, no matter the cost.
"Sometimes making a choice, rather than allow a choice to be made for us, makes all the difference," he said softly, before adding: "I promise to make sure that you always have something that smells of me, how does that sound?"
Judging by the small smile blooming slowly over Derek's face, so unlike his usual frowns and scowls, he liked the idea a lot.
Chapter 99
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Ever since he had become aware of the werewolves' existence, Noah started to second guess everything he knew about his job. The last couple of days he'd been going through old, unsolved cases and couldn't help wondering if there was a supernatural element involved in them. It was quite a bitter realization that all his life he'd been acting blindly, unaware of another world existing right beside his nose, affecting his work with him being none the wiser.
Not to mention, he still had the Dunbars' case on his hands. On Wednesday he'd moved the three thugs from temporary arrest to jail since the prosecutor had pressed charges for breaking-in, assault and attempted rape. The attackers had requested to be released by paying bail, but thankfully the judge had suspicions that their money had been obtained feloniously, seeing as they had no history of being employed and couldn't provide a reasonable explanation how they had obtained 10.000 bucks in the first place, and the bail-out had been refused.
Still, the prosecutor hadn't been impressed with Noah's work and he had time until Monday to fill all the gaps that his initial report contained. But how could he explain how a sixteen year old boy had managed to beat three adult men into unconsciousness without even breaking a sweat? No one would believe it, and yet there was no way to hide Scott's involvement, seeing as the attackers' testimonies were clear on that part. Not to mention, he still had to obtain Scott's statement regarding the attack on the Dunbars.
He peered into Stiles' room and asked: "Can you tell me if Scott is at home?"
His son shrugged. "He was planning to see Liam after the school, but I don't know if he's back yet."
Noah tried not to let his impatience show, but honestly, sometimes his son couldn't take a hint. "Well, can you ask him?"
"Why don't you ask him yourself? You know that I hate being a middleman," Stiles let out a long-suffering sigh, then scribbled something on a piece of paper. "Here's his number. Since he's the resident werewolf boss, you should have it anyway."
Noah took the note and turned to leave, when Stiles' words fully sank in. "Wait, why is he a boss?"
"Shouldn't have said that," Stiles muttered, looking guilty. "Could you just pretend that you didn't hear anything?" Noah levelled him with a look. "Oh well, I guess you would've found out eventually… Scott's an Alpha werewolf, and a leader of his pack. Definitely not someone to be trifled with, that's for sure."
Noah tried to reconcile two opposite images in his mind - the first one of a kind but sickly boy, trailing after his son like a lost puppy, and the second one of a huge wolf, commanding a pack of others like him - and failed miserably. Scott that he knew was a cheerful but somewhat awkward teenager, definitely not a leader material. So what had happened to make him into one?
"Are you sure?" he asked dubiously.
"Uh-huh," Stiles nodded vigorously. "He's no longer a weak, little boy, dad. Now, he kicks ass."
Well, that was just another reason to visit the McCalls, then. He decided to call Melissa first, though. Werewolf or not, Scott was still a minor and needed to be accompanied by a parent while talking with the police.
***
When Noah arrived, he was surprised to see a fancy looking car parked outside Melissa's house. Not able to contain his curiosity, he gave it a closer look and he whistled, impressed. If his eyes didn't deceive him, it was the famous Shelby Cobra, quite a rare gem in the automotive world. Although, knowing that cars such as this would be forever outside of his reach, he only gave it one last admiring look and went to meet the McCalls.
He rang the doorbell and waited for a moment. Soon enough, the door opened and Scott smiled at him widely.
"Hi Sheriff, long time no see! Come in, mom will be with us shortly."
Following the excited teenager into the house, Noah observed him carefully, trying to see an Alpha werewolf in him, but couldn't spot anything out of the ordinary.
"I know that scrutinizing look, Sheriff, you're channeling your inner detective," Scott raised his eyebrow curiously.
"I apologize, it was something that Stiles mentioned earlier, about you being an Alpha werewolf. I was trying to see if I could recognize the signs, but I admit that if there are any, I can't see them," he admitted honestly.
A man walked out of the kitchen confidently and said: "Or maybe you simply don't know what to look for."
Noah looked at him from head to toe, taking in the fancy, designer clothes, the stylish haircut and overall impression that the man was acting as if he owned the place, and he disliked him instantly.
"And you are?" he asked coldly.
"Um, Sheriff, this is Peter Hale, my packmate," Scott introduced, looking between them worryingly. "Peter, I know that being territorial is a werewolf thing, but try to curb it a little, would you?"
"I don't like it when someone treats you patronizingly," the man tilted his chin up stubbornly and crossed his arms over his chest in a clearly defensive gesture.
Noah observed with interest how they acted around each other, and was quite confused about their dynamics. On one hand, this Hale guy seemed arrogant to the boot, and seemed more like an Alpha material in almost every aspect. Still, if that was the case, Scott's rebuke should have angered the man, as it was clearly undermining Peter's authority… But somehow, it hadn't quite worked that way. If anything, the man had felt the need to explain himself to Scott, which was bizarre, to say the least.
"I know, but the Sheriff has known me since I was a small boy, so it's understandable that he has a hard time imagining me as an Alpha," Scott said gently.
The Hale guy nodded stiffly, and Scott smiled at him approvingly, confusing the Sheriff even more. Just who was in charge here, really?
"Hi Noah, it's so good to see you! I apologize if you had to wait," Melissa chose that moment to join them as she walked down the stairs.
She looked quite different compared to the last time they had seen each other, too. Gone were the dull and matted hair, the sallow complexion and the bags under her eyes. Now, she looked gorgeous, radiant, and happy. She has always been a beautiful woman, but life hadn't spared her, and it had shown in her looks... or at least it had been that way, up until now.
There had been a time when he'd wondered if they could be a pair, especially considering how close their sons were and how Stiles basically thought of her as a mother. Still, they were both insanely busy, with her working double shifts at the hospital, and him being elected as a Sheriff, so there had never been quite the good time for romance. Seeing her now, he started to regret it.
"Hello Melissa, you look wonderful," he finally managed to say, causing the woman to blush, and Peter to growl lowly.
"Thank you, it seems that being in love managed to accomplish what all the ridiculously expensive cosmetics didn't," she said with a small smile, and he blinked, surprised. What was she talking about?...
This soon became quite apparent when she walked up to the Hale guy, kissed him lightly on the lips and said: "You can stop growling, Noah's just a friend, that's all."
He squashed the sudden wave of jealousy and regret which he felt at seeing them together. He'd waited for years to make his first move, and it was no wonder that Melissa had found someone in the meantime. If he was being completely honest with himself, the only surprise was that it had taken so long before someone captured her heart.
"I see that congratulations are in order," he managed to say. "Now, shall we get down to business? I don't want to impose on your time for longer than necessary."
This was not the time nor place to dwell on his feelings, he could do that later and in the privacy of his room. Now, he needed to act professionally and finally get his job done.
When they sat down, Noah took out his notebook and a pen. "So, Scott, tell me everything that you remember from the event that took place last Sunday…"
***
The talk with the Sheriff went quite smoothly, all things considered. Scott knew that his feat of defeating three grown up men, one of which was armed with a knife, was quite unbelievable, so he'd already wondered how he could explain that to the police. In the end, they had decided on a partial truth: that he was proficient in martial arts (which, thanks to his previous life, he truly was, but he hadn't mentioned that to the Sheriff). Still, it was the best explanation that they could come up with without revealing his supernatural origin.
Throughout the whole conversation he could sense the tension between Peter and the Sheriff, though both men had pretended that nothing was amiss. He had quite a good guess what this was all about, but decided not to interfere. After all, his mom's love life was hardly his business.
It was late already and he was getting ready to sleep when he heard a quiet knock.
"Come in," he called, and wasn't surprised to see Isaac walking into the room. What surprised him, though, was the fact that the teen was avoiding his eyes. "Hey, what's wrong?"
Isaac lay down next to him on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Scott didn't push, just let him mull over whatever was troubling him.
With everything that had been happening lately, they hadn't had the chance to really talk with each other without someone else being present as well. While he was glad that Isaac wasn't so dependent on him anymore and that the boy no longer clinged to him out of fear that Scott would abandon him, he honestly missed spending time together. Even though they no longer dated each other, he would hate it if they simply went separate ways and grew apart over time... He swore to himself not to let it happen, no matter what.
"I have no idea what to do, you know, with Allison," the boy finally admitted.
"If you're not sure of your feelings-" Scott started hesitantly.
"No, that's not it," Isaac exhaled loudly, sounding both nervous and frustrated at the same time. "I told you that you were my first boyfriend, that I was totally inexperienced before that. You showed me a lot, but still- I don't know what to do. In bed. With a girl."
Scott was surprised at the confession, but then again, maybe he shouldn't be. He knew how innocent Isaac was despite his occasional bravado. "I'm not asking this to judge or make fun of you, but… did no one give you 'the talk'?"
"Who do you have in mind? My dad, perhaps?" Isaac asked sarcastically. "I should be grateful that the thought didn't even cross his mind, really."
Scott shuddered, totally agreeing with him. The talk delivered by Mr Lahey would have surely resulted in even more shame, guilt and insecurity, which Isaac certainly didn’t need.
"I mean, I know what goes where, I'm not totally ignorant, I just-" Isaac swallowed hard. "I want to do this right."
"Okay, do you want me to give you some tips, then?" Scott offered.
Isaac rolled to the side and finally looked at him. "You truly don't mind? I know that it's not fair to ask this of you, and it's not really your responsibility, but-"
Scott shook his head. "I don't mind. To be honest, I'm glad that you decided to come to me with this." And he really was. To know that Isaac trusted him enough to come to him with his fears and doubts, even with something as trivial as sex, it meant a lot to him.
Of course, he hoped that one day the teen would be able to fully trust the rest of the pack, Peter and Chris especially, since they seemed to have formed a rapport with him already. Still, he could understand that - from Isaac's perspective - talking about sex with middle aged men (including the father of his girlfriend) would be much more embarrassing than talking to someone closer to his age.
The following conversation turned out to be slightly awkward, but not overly so. Surprisingly, it helped that they'd been intimate in the past, and didn't feel shy about their bodies around each other anymore. In the end, there was a lot of blushing on Isaac's side, but also quite a few laughs, especially when they both agreed that girls were difficult to understand and that being a boy was infinitely easier.
"Thanks," Isaac whispered afterwards, then yawned widely. "Can I sleep here today?"
"Sure," Scott replied, pulling the duvet over them. "You know that I hate sleeping alone."
"I know, but… After we broke up you said that you needed space and I wasn't sure if I'm allowed into your bed again," Isaac explained, looking unsure of himself.
"It's okay, especially now, since we both moved on to others," Scott pulled the teen closer, then said in a stage whisper: "You're not the only one who's going out on a date tomorrow."
"Whoa, what? And I know nothing about it? That's so unfair!" Isaac complained, but Scott only chuckled.
"It's a secret for now, but don't worry, once I'm sure it's something serious I'll tell you all about it," he promised.
"You better," Isaac muttered under his breath, circling Scott with his arms and closing his eyes.
All too soon, Isaac's breathing evened out and he fell asleep, puffing out air quietly, which Scott found quite endearing. He buried his nose in the boy's blond locks and inhaled deeply, allowing the familiar scent to lull him into sleep as well.
Notes:
I hope that you liked the new chapter! I wondered where Stiles got his fascination with cars and realized: his dad, of course! ;)
Next: (enter drumroll and dramatic music playing in the background) the DATE!
Chapter Text
Scott took a deep breath before he entered the building where Deucalion rented a flat. He was slightly nervous but in a good way, as if he'd drank sparkling wine, making him feel all bubbly and giddy inside. Considering that as a werewolf he literally couldn't get drunk, it was the closest he was able to get to that feeling.
He had spent all morning picking clothes to wear today, he even went to the hairdresser to make himself at least somewhat presentable. He wondered if Deucalion would notice, if he would like Scott's new look. He hoped so.
He raised a hand but a split second before he could knock, the twins opened the door.
"Hi boys, were you that impatient to see me?" Scott asked with a wry smile. "I'm flattered."
"Wow, you look good," Ethan said, impressed, causing Aiden to roll his eyes.
"He's not here for you, dumbass."
"I was only saying-" Ethan started to defend himself.
"Can I come in, or should I come back later?" Scott joked lightly, causing the twins to stop bickering and to hastily invite him in.
"Deucalion would have our hide if we managed to scare you away," Aiden muttered under his breath. "He's been on edge the entire day…"
"Are you talking about me behind my back, Aiden?" Deucalion drawled as he appeared in the hall, causing the younger werewolf to fall silent.
Scott looked up and for a moment he couldn't help but stare at the man, taking in his lean but muscular body, accented by the elegant, burgundy button up shirt and black trousers. Suddenly, he felt weak in his knees, but somehow managed to take a couple of steps in Deucalion's direction.
"Hi," he said breathlessly, barely registering the twins scampering away to the kitchen.
"You look- simply perfect," Deucalion murmured, his eyes shining with appreciation. "May I…?"
Scott didn't have any idea what the man was asking permission for, but right at this moment he would have agreed to anything and everything, so he nodded wordlessly. It turned out that Deucalion only wanted to help him with his jacket, and the gentle brush of the man's hands on his arms caused Scott to tremble with anticipation.
Seeing that, Deucalion frowned worriedly. "Are you cold? Do you want to leave the jacket on?"
Scott shook his head, and put his hand on Deucalion's chest. "It was a different kind of shiver," he said quietly, intently, causing Deucalion's eyes to widen, the man's lips parting slightly in a mix of surprise and wonder.
Before any of them could say anything else, Ethan's head peered through the door. "What do you want to drink, Scott?"
Scott blinked, realizing that he had been staring at Deucalion's lips, so he shook himself and looked at the twin instead.
"Just water, please. I'm famished, though, so I hope that you've cooked something to feed a hungry wolf," he said with a wink.
"On it!" Ethan disappeared in the kitchen again.
Scott looked at Deucalion and saw that during their short exchange the man had managed to get himself back in control, and for a moment he mourned that shy, disbelieving wonder he'd seen earlier in his eyes. He comforted himself that there would be plenty of time to put that look back on Deucalion's face, though.
***
Scott looked like a dream come true, there were no other words for it. The unruly mop of hair had been replaced by a shorter, more stylish haircut, and the new look definitely suited the young Alpha. He looked older now and Deucalion certainly didn't miss Scott's previous, more boyish appearance.
He had been nervous all day, wanting this afternoon to be perfect in every way. He was well aware how important first impressions were, and while he and Scott had met before, it was the first time they actually saw each other in a private, romantic setting… if family dinner with two insufferable twins could even be called such.
"Is Kali planning to join us?" Scott asked while putting a napkin on his lap.
"She and I… we had a disagreement," Deucalion explained reluctantly. "She's not at home at the moment."
"I'd hate to sound conceited, but was it because of me? I know that I'm not her favourite person."
"That's quite true, unfortunately. Still, she should've respected my choices, even if she disagreed with them," Deucalion said grimly, clenching his fists.
"I'm sorry, I wanted this meeting to be calm and relaxing, not to cause you even more stress," Scott said, putting a hand on Deucalion's fist.
The teen's palm was warm and comforting, and Deucalion unclenched his hand only to intertwine their fingers together. "Is this alright?"
Scott looked at their joined hands and then back at him. "More than alright."
Deucalion started to make small, circular motions on Scott's skin with his thumb, before he realized that it was the time to serve dinner. He let go of the teen's hand and stood up. "I'll go check if lasagne is ready, and also what the twins are up to."
Scott laughed. "They're certainly too quiet, and with mischief makers such as them it's never a good sign. I would start worrying if I were you."
That prediction was, unfortunately, quite spot on. When Deucalion entered the kitchen, he saw the twins whispering furiously to each other.
"What's going on?" he asked.
"We're sorry, we don't know what we did wrong…" Ethan apologized while Aiden bit his lip worriedly, pushing a fork and the mould with lasagne in Deucalion's direction.
He took a small bite and realized at once what was wrong. While the sauce itself was quite tasty, the pasta sheets were still firm, as if uncooked. He closed his eyes, trying to rein in his anger.
"Did you cook the sheets?" he asked lowly, gritting his teeth.
"Um, no?" Ethan said in a small voice, while Aiden added: "Were they supposed to be cooked?"
Earlier, they'd asked him if they could finish making the lasagne so that he had the time to get ready for Scott's arrival. He'd gladly taken them on their offer, especially since he'd already prepared the sauce earlier that day, so it was only a matter of layering the pasta sheets and the sauce in the mould and putting it all into the oven. He didn't expect them to actually botch something as simple as that, and now he was furious, both at them and at himself for not keeping an eye on what they'd been doing.
Before he could lash out at the boys, Scott walked into the kitchen.
"I was able to sense your anger even from the dining room. What's wrong?" the teen asked as he came closer and circled Deucalion's waist with his arm, pressing their bodies close.
All of Deucalion's anger suddenly disappeared, and he was only aware of the warm, young body pressed so innocently to his.
"We screwed up the dinner," Aiden said matter-of-factly, though his face was still pale and he kept shooting worried glances at Deucalion.
"Let me check," Scott took the fork from Deucalion's hand and took a bite of the lasagne.
Deucalion couldn't help but gape at him in shock at the intimacy of the gesture. No one had ever dared to use the same utensils as he did, since it suggested a familiarity most people could never dream of when it came to him.
"Mmm, you made a common mistake," Scott commented. "If the sauce is too thick, you need to add an additional cup of water, or boil the pasta sheets before coating them with it. The sauce is delicious, though, so if you have any of it left, we could simply cook spaghetti instead."
"Yup, we do," Ethan nodded. "Noodles for spaghetti as well."
"Perfect, then boil water in a large pot and add a tablespoon of salt, then cook the noodles for twelve to fifteen minutes. You've got this?"
"Yessir!" Ethan nodded eagerly.
"That's the spirit!" Scott said approvingly. "Deucalion and I are going to leave you two to it, but let us know if you need any help, alright?"
"We'll manage," Aiden said with a roll of his eyes, but he was much more relaxed now, since it seemed that they'd avoided a total disaster.
Scott took Deucalion's hand and pulled him into the dining room.
"Are you alright?" Scott asked softly.
Deucalion looked at him with regret he couldn't quite conceal. "I'm sorry, I wanted this evening to be perfect, and now-"
His apology was cut off by Scott taking a step closer, leaving almost no distance between their bodies. Then, the teen leaned forward and kissed him gently, a small brush of lips against lips, but it was enough to make Deucalion's heart beat faster. He marvelled at the softness of Scott's mouth and he closed his eyes, focusing on that exquisite feeling as he kissed the boy back, returning each caress with his own.
All too soon, Scott leaned back, though his face was glowing with joy. "In my books, this evening is already perfect. I don't need anything else," he murmured.
Deucalion was the exact opposite: he wanted more, more touches and kisses, more sweet little gestures proving without any doubt that Scott wanted this, wanted to be here, with him.
***
The spaghetti turned out to be a success and the twins were quite proud of themselves. Scott didn't have the heart to tell them that cooking noodles was hardly an impressive feat, as he knew how starved they were for any kind of positive feedback and how hard they took criticism, especially from someone they liked or respected.
"I haven't seen you at school the whole week, won't you have any problems catching up?" he asked after the meal, once they were all pleasantly full.
The twins exchanged looks, communicating silently with each other.
"We're not exactly the school kids that we pretended to be, that was just a ruse," Aiden explained finally.
"So you've finished school already?" he asked, already knowing the answer but wanting them to admit the truth.
"Not exactly…" Ethan muttered, avoiding his eyes.
"Why would we need school anyway?" Aiden asked rebelliously, crossing his arms over his chest. "We're werewolves, we don't need to mingle with humans."
"Easy, I was just asking," Scott raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "It's yours and your Alpha's decision what you'll do with your life. I only thought that you would enjoy independence and satisfaction that comes from having a job and earning your own money," he explained.
The twins turned to Deucalion, who looked pensieve for a moment before nodding. "It's not a bad idea, actually. We still have some funds to live comfortably for a couple of years, but they won't last indefinitely. Is there any profession that you would like to pursue?"
The boys fidgeted uneasily in their seats, before Ethan admitted in a small voice: "We've never thought about the future, it was always about surviving the next day, and the day after."
Scott's heart went to them as he realized how hard their lives must have been before Deucalion had showed up. And even after they'd joined the Alpha Pack, moving from town to town and never staying anywhere long enough to grow roots wasn't exactly the best environment to consider one's future.
"You don't have to decide now, we still have time to think about it," Deucalion assured them. "But Scott's right, boys. Since we're planning to settle in Beacon Hills, it's a good opportunity for you to finish your education."
"Are we allowed?" Aiden asked, looking at Scott. "To stay here for good, I mean?"
"I already told Deucalion that as long as you don't plan to cause any more trouble, you are all welcome to stay in Beacon Hills," he offered, then added: "No more kidnapping people, though."
The twins nodded eagerly.
***
After dinner Deucalion asked Scott if he wanted to go on a walk with him, and the teen agreed with a radiant smile. They went to the nearby park which looked quite enchanting, aglow with the last rays of the setting sun, though Deucalion thought that it couldn't hold a candle to the beautiful boy walking right next to him.
Their hands brushed every now and then and Deucalion longed to intertwine their fingers together, but wasn't sure if Scott would welcome that. It was one thing to hold hands in the privacy of his flat, but this was a public setting where anyone could see them, even if there were barely a handful of people in the park at this hour. Still, he didn't want Scott to be uncomfortable or ashamed of being seen with an older man.
"Thank you for reminding me about the twins' education, I did a poor job as an Alpha for not thinking about it earlier," he said after a moment of silence.
Scott looked at him, aghast. "That wasn't what I meant, at all!"
"I know that. But the fact that you care so much for my own pack… it's humbling."
Seeing Scott's interaction with the twins was quite an eye opener. He couldn't help but think that Scott was a far better Alpha than he would ever be, but surprisingly that thought didn't make him bitter or angry. If anything, it made him wistful.
"I already consider your pack mine, and I hope that one day you'll be able to say the same about my own pack," Scott hesitated for a moment before adding: "I know that we wanted to take things slowly, but it feels so good, to be together. And I want more of it."
Deucalion stopped in his tracks. "But there are so many things you still don't know about me…" he protested weakly, remembering Marin's threats.
Scott looked at him with unexpectedly piercing eyes. "Maybe I don't know everything about you, but I know you. And I want you."
"Are you sure? I'm much older than you, I'm a murderer and I'm… lost," he croaked through a suddenly clenched throat.
Scott took his hand and pressed a soft kiss to his knuckles, causing him to suck in a breath in shock. "I can't do anything about your past and the things you did or went through, but… with me, you won't feel lost ever again."
Suddenly overwhelmed by that solemn promise, Deucalion cupped Scott's face and looked deep into his eyes, trying to see even a shade of falseness or deceit, but couldn't see any. In that moment he finally stopped caring if anyone would see them and in one swift move he sealed Scott's mouth with his own.
It was radically different from the soft kiss that they'd shared earlier in the flat. This time Deucalion kissed like a man possessed, tasting and sucking hungrily, and in the back of his mind a part of him begged to slow down or he would scare the teen away. But to his surprise, Scott responded with an equal passion, opening his mouth eagerly, welcoming Deucalion's lips and tongue with fervent, breathy moans.
He didn't know how long they were kissing, but when he finally came to his senses, they were both breathing raggedly and clinging to each other, their heartbeats racing. He looked at his young- lover? partner? and felt a sudden surge of desire and possessiveness at seeing Scott's glazed eyes and swollen mouth. Still, he shoved his lust to the back of his mind and placed a single, feather-like kiss on the teen's lips.
"God, I want you so much," he whispered desperately. "I'd give you everything that I own, everything that I am, just to be with you. But if you think that you won't be able to return my feelings, please let me know now, rather than let me fall even deeper in love with you." He closed his eyes, trying to keep himself together and not break apart right here and there.
"Deucalion…" he shuddered at the way his name sounded when uttered by Scott with such naked longing, "I already told you that I want you: in my life, in my arms, and yes, also in my bed. I'm not playing with your feelings, I swear, I respect and care about you too much already."
There was a raw honesty in Scott’s voice, and for the first time in a very long time, Deucalion allowed himself to hope.
***
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
"He wishes for the Cloths of Heaven"
William Butler Yeats
Chapter Text
If his first life had taught Scott anything, it was that time was precious. Facing a war makes you strong; and yet, in some ways, it makes you vulnerable, it makes you defenseless. Each day you wonder if this is the last time you get to see your loved ones, who you'll lose this time, who won't be coming back home that day. He couldn't count the times when he'd clung to his packmates desperately, praying silently for them to be safe.
Not that his prayers had ever been heard, his heart breaking into tiny pieces each time he'd lost yet another packmate, or had to bury yet another friend. For him, loss was a wound that never truly healed, and each time he remembered even a tiny detail about the people he'd lost, he would feel a sharp sting of pain deep inside his soul where his pack bonds had once been.
Now, he got the chance to live once more, and to do it better. The lessons he had learned during the war stayed with him even in this life: that time was precious and it shouldn't be wasted. If being with Deucalion was his chance at happiness, he would take what life offered him, no questions asked.
Decision made, Scott leaned closer to steal yet another kiss from the man, this one intimate and unhurried, letting himself explore Deucalion's mouth to his heart content.
"I wish-" the man croaked once they parted. "I wish that I was younger. You deserve to be with someone less… used than I am."
Scott looked at Deucalion's face and was amazed how imperfect and yet absolutely lovely it was, with facial lines and first wrinkles around the eyes and mouth. He couldn't help but think that Deucalion's face was a reflection of everything that the man had experienced, both the good and the bad things. Gently, he traced each furrow with his fingertips, enjoying seeing raw hunger in Deucalion's eyes, though it was mixed with vulnerability which he wanted to alleviate, somehow.
"I would be lying if I said that your age is irrelevant," he said quietly, and saw hurt flashing in the older werewolf's eyes. Deucalion started to lean away from him, but Scott didn't let him, tightening his hold. "But it's not irrelevant, because it's a part of you. Your past, everything that you went through, it created the man that I see before me. I don't want you to be younger, because I want you exactly as you are, scars, wrinkles, everything."
"You can't mean it, you're still so young-"
Scott growled lowly, suddenly vexed. "Stop using my physical age as an argument. If I'm old enough to form a pack, old enough to fight and to kill, then I dare to say that I'm more than old enough to know what I want. Unless you consider my age off-putting, then we'd have a problem."
Deucalion looked at him pensievely. "You truly hate it, do you? Being constantly reminded of and judged by how young you are."
Scott only nodded wordlessly.
"I apologize, then." Deucalion said solemnly. "You've shown many times already that you're an adult in every way that counts. If you truly don't mind that I'm older than you-"
"I don't," Scott assured him.
"-then I promise not to mention it again."
They looked at each other, suddenly at a loss what to say or do next. Finally, Scott put his arms around Deucalion and placed his head on his chest. After a second he felt the man returning his embrace and he sighed with relief, letting his muscles relax. He stayed like that for a long moment, inhaling Deucalion's scent deeply, wanting to imprint it in his memory.
"I meant what I said, you know," he said quietly. "I want you, in every way. We don't have to hurry with this and jump straight to bed, I just wanted you to know that I find you incredibly attractive, that's all."
"Is that so?" Deucalion murmured, kissing and nipping playfully at his earlobe, the man's moist, hot breath making Scott yearn for more.
"Yeah," he said huskily. "So if you don't want me to jump you right here and now, you better stop what you're doing."
Deucalion laughed, clearly amused, and took a step back. "Do you want to continue our walk, then?"
Scott nodded eagerly and next time when their hands brushed, he didn't hesitate to link them together. The wolf in him was feeling possessive of its prospective mate, and holding hands was one of the methods of staking a claim, the only one that was acceptable at such an early point of their dating. He couldn't yet dream of marking the man with a bite, though, not so soon.
"Tell me about your pack. Do they know about us being together?" Deucalion asked after a moment.
"They know that I'm seeing someone, but for now I've only told Derek that it's you," he admitted.
"You mean Derek Hale, is that right? How did it happen that he joined your pack, isn't he an Alpha himself?" Deucalion peered curiously at him.
"He was my Beta first, before I-" Scott hesitated for a moment, not wanting to lie to the man or hide things from him, he had enough secrets already. "Before I gave him the Alpha spark that I took away from Peter."
Deucalion's face turned serious and he stopped walking, turning so that they faced each other. "So what you did to Ennis, it wasn't the first time."
"No, it wasn't," Scott admitted.
"Are you able to take away my power as well?" Deucalion asked, before he shook his head. "I apologize, it wasn't my intention to turn our walk into an interrogation. Please forget that I asked."
Scott looked around and realized that it was getting dark and that the park was quite deserted at this point. "Do you trust me?" he asked impulsively.
***
Did he trust Scott? Deucalion pondered on the question carefully, before he realized that he already knew the answer. The teen had not only given him back his eyesight, but had also healed his body, heart and soul, in a way that no one had ever done, no one else had even tried.
"I trust you, with everything that I am," he said honestly. If the boy ever took away his power, it would be only because he was no longer worthy of it.
Scott nodded, as if reading his thoughts, and put a hand on Deucalion's chest. The gesture was gentle and unthreatening, but he felt goosebumps appearing on his forearms and hair standing at the back of his neck as a wave of something akin to electricity tore through his whole body. Shaking, he looked down and saw a globe of red light shining right above his heart, underneath Scott's palm.
"This is your Alpha spark," the teen whispered, his eyes also shining with a beautiful, ruby-red light. "I'm not taking it away, I promise, I only wanted to show it to you."
Deucalion observed the red globe with a delighted wonder as it pulsed in harmony with his own heartbeat. "It's wonderful," he whispered.
And it truly was. If he'd ever doubted that being a werewolf was a gift, this would surely prove it.
He covered Scott's hand with his own palm, enjoying the warmth of the Alpha spark underneath it. Slowly, the light in his chest diminished before disappearing completely, and he felt a sharp sting of sorrow at the loss.
"Don't worry, it's still there, it will always be with you, just unseen," Scott murmured comfortingly, kissing the place on Deucalion's chest where the light had been just a minute before.
He looked at the young werewolf, marvelling at his kindness and inner strength, and couldn't help but think that he didn't deserve to be with Scott, not with the amount of blood on his hands. He didn't say it out loud, though. If Scott truly wanted to be with him, he would do everything in his power not to let him down.
"Thank you, it was… an unforgettable experience."
"Will I get a kiss as a reward for my efforts?" Scott asked playfully.
Not able to resist such a sweet temptation, Deucalion pulled the boy closer and showered his face and neck with kisses, suddenly feeling lighter than air.
***
Chris observed as Allison got ready for her date with Isaac and felt strangely torn at the sight. He didn't know if he was ready to accept the fact that his darling girl was turning into a woman, but it seemed unavoidable and out of his hands at this point. He couldn't stop her from growing up, nor would he want to. Also, if he could pick a boy for her, Isaac would be very high on that list, so it wasn't that he disapproved of her choices. Still, it was hard seeing her all dressed up and with high heels on, and not recall the little baby girl that she'd once been.
"Dad, stop sulking, I'll be fine," she sighed at the sight of him.
"I know that, you're my daughter after all," he said, placing his hands on her shoulders and kissing her brow.
"You look wonderful, that dress is a perfect match for your skin tone," Victoria commented as she entered the room.
Chris stiffened, and he felt Allison's muscles tensing as well.
"I'll tell that to Peter the next time I see him, since he's the one who taught me how to pick the colours of my clothes. You know, Peter Hale, the werewolf? Recently he's been more present in my life than you, since you were too busy trying to kill my friend," she said coldly. "Please leave and don't come into my room ever again."
"You can't talk to me like that, I'm your mother," Victoria said, her face pale and drawn.
"I don't give a damn, you crossed the line when you pulled that trigger, so either you leave the room, or I do," Allison warned, and Chris couldn't be more proud of her as he was now. This was his daughter, fierce and strong.
"I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you," Victoria said stubbornly.
"Try to stop me and you'll see how determined I am," Allison hissed. "I'm going out on a date today, whether you accept it or not." She stood up, grabbed her purse and started to leave.
"Do you really want to go out with someone who was a werewolf's boy toy? He's used goods, you deserve better," Victoria called out after her and Chris finally lost his patience.
He grabbed his wife's arm in a tight grip and said quietly: "Stop acting like this, it's unbecoming of you."
"It's all your fault, you turned my daughter against me!" she said accusatorily.
Allison turned around and said frankly: "No, mom, it's not dad’s fault, it’s all your doing, your pettiness, hatred and lack of conscience did this. Now excuse me, I'm going out, I want to have at least one good thing in my life and I won’t let you spoil it.”
She left the room in a hurry, leaving a heavy silence behind her.
Chapter 102
Notes:
A couple of people asked about Jordan, but I'm afraid that his return to the States will take 2-3 weeks in the story, so he should appear around chapter 115, maybe 120. Sorry folks, I know that you've been waiting for his appearance, but I don't think that being released from the army should happen overnight, so... Patience, dears.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Melissa has never thought of herself as vain or a snob, but she couldn't deny that being surrounded by luxury was quite a pleasurable change. The date that Peter took her on was nothing less than perfect, including a huge bouquet of roses he gifted her with, the luxury restaurant and sophisticated but delicious food.
Still, she couldn't help but think that Peter's mind was somewhere else entirely, especially when he didn't react to her comment about him drinking wine for taste only, since alcohol didn't work on him. For a moment she was concerned that maybe he was bored with her, but something told her that whatever was going on in his head, it wasn't about her.
She put her hand on his and when he still didn't react, she squeezed it gently, finally causing him to look up.
"Peter, what's wrong? You've barely even talked to me the whole evening."
"I'm sorry for being poor company today. There's one thing that I meant to tell you, but- I hope that it won't make you change your mind about us being together," he said, choosing his words carefully.
She felt a twinge of nervousness, but she suppressed it. They were adults, they needed to be honest with each other or else their relationship wouldn't work. "Go on, tell me," she encouraged him.
"What would you do if I told you that I have a daughter?" Peter asked, his face unreadable.
"I beg your pardon?" Melissa asked, thinking that she misheard the question. "Did you just say that you have a daughter?"
The man sighed and put his cutlery away. "It's… complicated."
"Well, you might start explaining, then," Melissa said tartly.
"For the record, I've never met her and I was told about her existence only recently. All I know is that her name is Malia and that she's roughly Scott's age, maybe slightly younger. I'm waiting for Scott to tell me more about her."
"Wait, why would Scott not tell you everything already?" Melissa asked, confused.
"He has his reasons for withholding information from me."
Peter's explanation was vague at best, and Melissa frowned. "Even if Scott's older than he looks, that doesn't suddenly make him all-knowing or infallible. He's my son, I would know."
The man was silent for a long moment, visibly fighting a battle within himself. "When Scott told me about Malia, I demanded that he tell me everything about her. When he refused, I attacked him and tried to strangle him," he finally confessed, making Melissa gasp.
She couldn't believe that Peter, the man who clearly cared for Scott a great deal and shared a unique bond with him, not that long ago had tried to kill him. "Why would you do something like that?" she asked, her voice shaking. "To Scott, no less?"
Peter's face was full of regret as he explained: "I was totally out of control back then, and Scott sensed it. He knew that I wasn't anywhere near ready to be a parent and told me to work on my temper and get my control back. That's why I trust that he'll tell me once I'm ready."
Melissa relaxed a bit, knowing that whatever madness had driven him to attacking Scott, it was in the past. "Do you still feel the urge to strangle anyone?" she asked though, just in case.
"Of course not. I'd like to think that I'm a much improved man now," Peter said calmly, taking a sip of his wine. "But back to my initial question: does Malia's existence change anything between us?"
She stifled a laugh, as if him having a kid was more of a deterrent than him having homicidal urges. Honestly, men!
"Peter, Scott picks up troubled teenagers like stray puppies, so I'm used to mothering a bunch of kids which aren't mine. If it comes to this, adding your daughter to the list won't be any hardship," she assured him.
"Thank you, darling," he murmured, placing a kiss on her hand, and she finally relaxed.
He might be a werewolf with a difficult past, but at the end of the day, he was her werewolf, and she wouldn't have it any other way.
***
When his mom had returned from her date strangely pensieve and kept shooting him curious glances, Scott hadn't been all that surprised when Peter had texted him, asking for a meeting in his apartment the next day. He'd been too happy after his date with Deucalion to worry about it too much, though, so he'd only replied with a short: Sure, I'll be there, see you.
After breakfast he got on his bike and went to Peter's place, curious what his packmate wanted to discuss.
"Hey Peter," he said cheerfully as he entered the man's apartment.
"Hi Scott, thank you for coming on such a short notice," he said stiffly, and Scott knew at once that something was amiss. Peter was never so formal unless he wanted to speak about a heavy topic.
"It's going to be one of these difficult conversations, isn't it?" he asked knowingly, raising an eyebrow.
Peter sighed dramatically. "You know me too well."
"Listen, whatever it is, I'm sure it'll be fine. But first, give me a hug," Scott demanded imperiously, making Peter laugh. Once they embraced, Scott slid his palms up and down Peter's back and grinned. "Brilliant, you finally gained some weight!"
Peter smiled sheepishly. "That's thanks to your mother's culinary skills, not to mention her insistence to stuff me with cookies each time I visit, despite my protests."
"Then why is that I often see you with your hand in the cookie jar, even when mom's not around?" Scott teased.
"That's… completely beside the point," Peter said with a slight blush.
"If you say so," Scott winked at him, then sat on the sofa. "Now, sit down and tell me what this is all about."
But instead of sitting down, Peter started to pace around.
"I want to meet Malia," he said finally. "I've got myself under control and I haven't lost my temper in ages. I'm ready."
***
After his talk with Melissa, Peter thought long and hard about how to approach Scott. He'd agreed to accept his Alpha's judgement when it came to Malia, and he didn't want to go back on his word. Still, he felt more in control now and wanted to convince Scott that he truly was getting better.
However, after hearing his request, Scott's smile disappeared in an instant and the teen looked at him consideringly, almost sharply, causing Peter to straighten under the scrutiny.
"No. You're getting better, that’s true, but you're not quite there yet," Scott said with a shake of his head.
"But-" he started to protest, but was interrupted.
"Not yet, Peter," Scott said with finality in his voice.
The rejection hurt him more than he would have expected. "When, then?" he demanded, trying to hide his pain underneath his anger. "You can't keep me waiting forever."
"You'll wait as long as I tell you to," Scott retorted harshly. "Let me remind you that it's not your decision to make, it’s mine.”
Peter clenched his hands into fists, and he felt his body shaking from suppressed fury. He hated this, hated being told what he could or couldn't do. It felt as if Scott tried to cage him, even though the teen had once promised him that he would never do that, and he felt the wolf inside him growling angrily at the mere thought.
At the same time though, he couldn't help but remember that everything Scott has ever done, he did with his pack in mind, a pack that Peter was a part of. The teen would never do anything out of spite, he was sure of it. Maybe Peter should try to prove himself to his Alpha, show him that he was worthy of his trust? There must be some way to make Scott change his mind, after all.
Slowly, he unclenched his fists, letting go of his anger and frustration. He sat down next to Scott and asked quietly: "Let me prove myself to you, please."
He was surprised to see a small but proud smile appearing on Scott's face. "You already did, since you just proved that you are fully capable of controlling yourself."
Peter inhaled sharply. "So everything that you said before, it was... a test? You sneaky-" he growled obscenities under his breath, but at the same time he couldn't help but be a little impressed by the ruthlessness of Scott's little show. "I didn't know that you had it in you," he said finally.
And while he admired Scott's strength of will and the ability to act regardless of his personal feelings, he couldn’t help but feel hurt by Scott's act, and he grimaced slightly. It was so easy to get used to being showered with affection, that even the smallest suggestion of being found wanting was enough to cause him to doubt his worth.
He looked at his Alpha and yearned for Scott to make it better, no matter how childish that desire was. Hesitantly, he reached out to their pack bond and tried to open it on his end, to let Scott know what he was feeling without having to put it into words. Judging by the sudden widening of the teen's eyes, the method worked.
"Oh Peter, I'm so sorry, I never meant for you to doubt yourself, I swear," Scott assured him.
Via their link, Peter felt a small wisp of Scott's love and pride and he reacted impulsively. Rather than just passively let himself receive it, he fully opened himself to the bond, hungrily absorbing all the emotions that Scott projected. Suddenly, the link opened impossibly wide and he felt a flood of emotions from his Alpha, drowning his own sense of self within Scott's.
For the longest time he wasn't aware of anything else beside the onslaught of feelings so intense that his senses went haywire from all the sensations. It was an endless mix of sweetness and warmth, as if Scott's love, trust and care suddenly gained their own touch and taste. He could almost feel them on his skin and tongue, and he chased the sensation, hooked and overwhelmed at the same time.
Slowly, the storm calmed down, and he became aware of his body which was shaking uncontrollably, Scott's arms holding him tightly, making sure that he didn't hurt himself. Finally, the trembling also subsided, and he exhaled shakily, trying to get used to the feel of his own body.
Which was, if he was being honest, in quite a pitiful state. His face was covered in tears, his back and armpits were drenched with sweat, and he was mortified to realize that his groin was wet and sticky from what couldn't be anything else but his own come. He hastily pulled back from Scott, trying to put more distance between them, and he could only be thankful for the fact that he had his clothes on.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" he started to apologize, but Scott interrupted him gently but firmly, tilting his chin up with his fingers so that Peter didn't have a choice but to look into his eyes.
"Peter, it's alright. Don't apologize for something that was clearly a reaction to a sensation overload. You felt too much, and your body simply needed a way to cope with it. It's fine," Scott assured him, then added: "Maybe next time try opening our bond gradually so that it doesn't overwhelm you, alright?"
Seeing only understanding in Scott's eyes, Peter nodded. He excused himself to take a quick shower, and when he got back, Scott was already waiting for him on the bed. He was afraid that the teen would feel too awkward for their usual cuddling, but apparently that wasn’t the case.
He lay down with a sigh and instantly felt Scott's hands caressing his arms, shoulders and back, the touch calming and soothing.
"Thank you, I really needed this," he murmured.
"I know, I could feel it. I'm sorry that my actions caused this," Scott said mournfully. "About what I said to you before… I hated to rile you up by pushing your buttons, but it needed to be done and I won't apologize for doing it. I'm sorry that it hurt you, though."
Peter shook his head. "Scott, it's okay. As much as I enjoy the gentle side of you, it's not enough to protect the pack. But your ability to put your feelings aside and just do what's necessary… That, I can respect."
“Thank you,” Scott said quietly. “Now, try to relax. I promise to tell you everything about Malia afterwards.”
Peter closed his eyes, listening to the steady beat of his Alpha's heart as Scott continued his gentle caresses. After the emotional rollercoaster of their earlier argument and his reckless decision of opening the pack bond too widely, he finally felt his muscles relax.
Notes:
Next: Planning Malia's rescue. Yup, another girl will be joining the pack! There's been not enough of a female touch, but that's going to change soon :)
Chapter Text
After being told Malia's history, Peter sat on the sofa for a long moment, feeling strangely numb.
The first punch in the gut was the fact that Talia had removed his memories of Malia's birth. She'd had no right. No right! They could've found another way to deal with Corinne, including killing her if necessary. Why Talia deemed erasing Peter's memories and sending Malia away as a better solution was beyond him. Not to mention, being Peter's daughter made Malia Talia's niece and a part of the Hale pack. Sending her away was just another proof how heartless and fallible his sister had been, despite her superior act.
But what pained him the most was the knowledge that his daughter had inadvertently killed almost her entire adoptive family and spent seven years in her coyote form, without any human contact. In a way it was similar to him spending six years in coma and he remembered how unhinged and out of control he had been shortly after regaining his senses. He was finally able to fully understand and appreciate Scott's caution in telling him the truth.
After a moment, he shook himself out of his stupor and said decisively: "We need to get her back."
Scott nodded slowly. "We do. But remember, Malia's adoptive father still lives, so we need to think carefully if she should be found as Malia Hale… or Malia Tate. Do you feel ready to take responsibility for a fifteen year old girl, with everything that entails?"
He hesitated for a moment. He didn't know how to be a father, how could he be certain that he was ready for it?
"You knew her in your past life, so tell me what I should expect. What kind of person is she? What will she need?" he asked.
Scott sighed. "At first, she will have many animalistic habits, including forgetting to get dressed or to use cutlery when eating, that sort of thing. Also, she will struggle with getting back to school, so I would suggest moving her down a grade or two, it might help her with catching up on everything that she's missed. As for who she is… She's strong, proud, painfully honest at times. Loyal to a fault, but also vulnerable when it comes to family. That's why we need to consider if she would be better off reunited with her adoptive father or not."
Peter frowned, deep in thought. "I'm not an expert on legal matters, but how could we disregard the fact that she was adopted and get her into my custody, instead? Is that even possible?"
"Well, I have an idea but it's not exactly legal," Scott admitted sheepishly.
Even though they were discussing such a serious topic, Peter couldn't help but grin. "Are you telling me that despite being such a goody two shoes, you are honestly considering breaking the law?" he teased, amused.
Scott scratched his neck awkwardly and avoided his eyes, making Peter laugh out loud.
"Not to mention, we'll need Chris' help with this," Scott admitted, causing Peter to raise his eyebrows in surprise.
"Alright, let's hear that plan of yours, and then we call him."
***
Chris was so tired of the vicious circle of arguing with his wife followed by periods of icy silence and avoiding each other, that when Peter called saying that he needed assistance with a private matter, Chris didn't even let him finish speaking but immediately grabbed the keys and went to his car.
"Give me ten minutes and I'll be there," he said.
He was thankful for having an excuse to leave the house, and wondered if he could start spending more time with Peter, Melissa and Scott as a more pleasant alternative than just helplessly watching his marriage of twenty years slowly falling apart.
In a way, he was glad that Allison was spending a majority of her time with Isaac and her friends from school. Even though he missed spending time with his daughter, he was feeling guilty each time she was forced to witness yet another argument between himself and Victoria. No child should ever be involved in their parents' divorce, he thought grimly.
Feeling better with each yard further away from his wife, he could only hope that whatever matter Peter needed his help with, it would be something long, complex and requiring a lot of his time and effort... Anything, just so that he was occupied and not thinking about Victoria anymore.
He took the stairs just to give himself an additional moment to let go of his frustration, not wanting to burden anyone with his own issues. Once he knocked, Peter opened the door and greeted him with a firm handshake. Taking a step inside, Chris realized that Scott was there as well, and the teen hugged him enthusiastically.
In the privacy of his mind he allowed himself to think that he could get used to being greeted in such a way. It made him feel... wanted, as if he finally found a place (or people, rather) where he belonged.
Once they were all seated, Peter said: "Scott has a story to tell you and then we'll have a favour to ask but don't feel compelled to agree. We'll understand if you say no."
Chris frowned as this sounded quite serious, but nodded.
"Fifteen years ago Peter had a fling with the Werecoyote assassin Corinne also known as the Desert Wolf," Scott started the tale. "As a result of that fling, a child was born, a girl who took a big chunk of her mother's powers, causing Corinne to resent the child. In a misguided attempt to keep the little girl safe, Talia took away Peter's memories of his daughter's birth and put Malia in the adoption system. Are you following so far?"
Chris looked at Peter and asked faintly: "You have a child? And you don't even remember her?"
The werewolf nodded without a word, his face grim.
After a moment of silence, Scott continued: "Malia was then adopted by Henry and Evelyn Tate, and lived with them and their biological daughter Kylie on a ranch here, in Beacon Hills. When she was eight year old, Corinne found her and attempted to kill her by shooting the car while she was driving with her adoptive mother and sister. This led to a car wreck, and Malia, probably due to the shock of it all in addition to it being the full moon, transformed into a coyote for the first time and killed Evelyn and Kylie, then ran into the woods. She has been living as a coyote ever since."
"Oh my God," Chris exhaled shakily. "Do you know where she is? Can we find her and bring her back?"
"We know, and we will," Scott assured him calmly. "But the question is: what should happen afterwards? Should she stay with Peter, or should we let her go back to her adoptive father, who still lives? It's not an easy decision, and above everything we need to consider Malia's best interests."
Chris nodded slowly. "It already happened in your first life, am I right? What option did you choose back then?"
Scott rubbed his eyes tiredly. "She lived with Henry Tate. He was a good man and a loving father to who he thought of as a normal girl. But after almost three years of living a pretend life, when Malia finally revealed her werecoyote nature to Henry, he went ballistics. He blamed her for killing his wife and biological daughter, and called her a murderer, a monster. He didn't want to see her ever again, and it broke something in Malia. She started to doubt herself after that and had serious issues with trusting people."
So this tragic history had an even more tragic end... Chris would like to think that he would never react the way Henry Tate had, but he didn't have a habit of lying to himself. Just a couple of months ago, if his daughter had been turned into a werewolf or another were creature, he probably would have killed her just as he had been taught to do. He would have been devastated and would have mourned her, of course, but a hunter could never become a werewolf, that was what the Code dictated, and he had lived by the Code back then.
Now, he would like to think that he knew better than to just blindly follow the rules which he felt were cruel or unjust.
"So you want Malia to live with Peter, and not with her adoptive father, is that right?" he asked after a moment.
"In a nutshell, yes," Scott confirmed. "But I know Malia, she's as stubborn as it gets. If she'd like to be reunited with Henry, one way or another she'll find a way for that to happen, and she'll resent us for forbidding it."
"We plan to rescue her, show her that we're werewolves and that with us she wouldn't have to hide her true nature, and then just… let her choose," Peter added. "Ultimately, it needs to be her decision, not ours."
Chris nodded approvingly. "Sounds fair. Though I can't help but think: where's my role in all of this?"
Scott nervously bit his lip. "If Malia chooses to stay with Peter, we want to prevent Henry from starting a legal battle over who gets custody of her, so we would need to procure legal docs for a daughter of Peter Hale as if she was a completely different girl than Malia Tate, born Hale. Change her first name and date of birth, even, to avoid any similarity and mitigate the risk of someone connecting the dots that both girls are in fact one and the same," the teen explained.
"You want me to help forge legal documents for you," a realization dawned on him.
"Yes, we do," Peter said frankly. "Scott mentioned that in his first life you had the means and connections to do this. But if you're not comfortable with it, just say no and I'll understand. We'll find another solution."
Chris looked at the man and wondered what he would do if he was in Peter's place, learning that he had a daughter that he didn't know of, that she'd been adopted before she'd gone missing, trying to get her back while knowing that she could still choose her adoptive father over him.
If he was Peter's place, he'd like to believe that his friends would do everything in their ability to help him, within or outside the law, because that's what friends do for each other.
"If Malia chooses to stay with you, I'll do it," he said firmly. "I'll get her a fake birth certificate and anything else she needs so that you wouldn't need to worry about losing her due to some legal loophole. It's the least I can do to thank you both."
"Thank us? What for?" Peter asked, surprised but pleased.
"For being my friends," Chris said simply. "You see, I don't have many of them these days. All the more reason to help those I do, however I can."
If just a few months ago someone had told him that he would consider a werewolf his friend, he would have suggested they got admitted to the Eichen House for a mental health check. But now he was simply happy to have found true friendship, human or supernatural, it didn't matter to him, not anymore. What mattered was that they cared for him... and he cared for them.
Chapter 104
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Scott looked at his packmates and couldn't help but marvel how well Chris and Peter got along now, despite their rather tense first meeting. An Argent and a Hale, it sounded like a recipe for a disaster, but once they'd managed to overcome their prejudice, they clicked with each other at once and were now acting as if they had known each other for years.
"Alright, sounds like a plan. We'll go fetch Malia next week, so that she's home before the next full moon. Now, put on your shoes, we're going out," he said, standing up.
"Out? Where?" Peter asked, surprised.
"I managed to nick the keys to a tattoo parlour and made a copy of them before the owner even realized they went missing. We're finally getting you our pack's symbol," he revealed.
"Brilliant!" Peter almost bounced with excitement. "Do you have mountain ash with you?"
Scott nodded. "Yup, I have it."
"Wait, what do you need mountain ash for?" Chris asked curiously.
"We'll add it to the ink so that it prevents it from being absorbed during the healing process," Scott explained. "If we use regular ink, the tattoo will completely disappear within minutes."
"Due to the accelerated healing, I get it," Chris nodded with understanding. "Would you mind if I went with you?"
Peter put an arm loosely around the man's shoulders. "Of course not, the more the merrier. Besides, someone needs to make sure Scott doesn't paint anything embarrassing on my body, I wouldn't put it past him."
"I'd never!" Scott protested with a giggle. "Though, now that you gave me that idea…"
They left the apartment, laughing and bickering good-naturedly, and Scott couldn't help grinning like a loon.
***
When Scott opened the studio with the copied keys, Chris was a little relieved that no alarm went off. Getting arrested for breaking into the tattoo parlour wasn't his favourite way of spending the weekend, that he was sure of.
He went inside and looked around curiously.
"Alright, Peter, sit down, roll up your sleeve and put your arm on the arm rest," Scott ordered, already busing himself with the tools.
Peter looked at his long sleeved shirt critically. "Nah, I'll just take it off, it'll be easier that way."
"Suit yourself," Scott shrugged as he started to mix the ink with the powdered mountain ash.
When Peter took off his shirt, revealing a perfectly sculpted chest and abdomen underneath, Chris felt the tiniest bit of an honest appreciation at the sight and couldn't help but ogle the man discreetly. He had never felt any kind of attraction or desire towards his own sex, though, so his own reaction surprised him. He suspected that it was because this was Peter, and not just a random man whom he felt no connection to, that somehow made the difference.
When Peter saw the tattoo pen machine, he blanched. "Is this a needle?" he asked weakly. "I know that it's better than having the tattoo burned into my skin, but... Can someone please knock me out and wake me up once it's done?"
Chris stifled a laugh at the thought that the werewolf was afraid of needles of all things, and he offered jokingly: "Would you like me to hold your hand while Scott makes the tattoo?"
"Yes, please. For the record, I'm not afraid of the pain. I just really, really hate needles," Peter explained sincerely, and Chris' heart started to beat faster at the sight of such a naked vulnerability in the eyes of the man who was normally so brazen and fearless.
"Alright," he murmured, taking Peter's clammy hand in his. "Don't worry, you'll be fine."
Scott sat on the stool beside his packmate before rubbing his arm calmingly. They looked at each other, both their eyes shining with an Alpha red light, and for a moment Chris felt like an interloper, intruding on something deeply intimate.
"Are you sure that you want to do this? There's no taking it back," Scott said solemnly.
Peter nodded wordlessly, so Scott started to make a tattoo on his skin.
Chris felt his hand being gripped strongly, almost to the point of causing pain, but he wasn't concerned. He knew that Peter would never cause him harm, so he returned the grip with an equal strength, showing the man that he was there, with him.
Once the tattoo was done, Chris couldn't help but admire the end result. The inflammation disappeared within a few minutes and the mark was now perfectly visible.
"What’s the meaning of it?" he asked Scott curiously.
"The circle symbolizes the pack, the unity, while the infinity symbol inside of it shows that for me, the bond lasts forever," the teen explained. "Even going back in time only weakened the links to all of my packmates, but I could still feel them, in the back of my mind."
Chris was amazed, for the bonds to have endured something as life-changing as being thrown to a different time… They must be strong indeed. For a moment he felt envious, before he realized that maybe, just maybe, he didn't have to be, since he was already in the process of forming similar bonds himself.
***
Afterwards, they cleaned up the place, hoping that the owner wouldn't realize that anything was amiss.
"Alright, guys, I have school tomorrow, so I really need to go home," Scott said sheepishly. "The dubious perks of being a teenager… Wish I was an adult already."
Chris smiled wryly at the boy's predicament, before Scott hugged them both, got on his bike and rode away.
He looked at Peter and hesitated for a moment. He really didn't want to go back to his house yet but wasn't sure if he wouldn't overstay his welcome if he hung out with the werewolf for a little longer.
As if reading his mind, Peter turned to him, saying: "The night's still young, and I've got a brand new tattoo on my arm which I'd like to celebrate, so… care to join me?"
"I thought you'd never ask," he said with a relieved smile.
They got into their cars and drove back to Peter's apartment. Once there, Peter showed him an impressive collection of various alcohol bottles he had stashed in his pantry.
"So, what would you like, beer, whisky, wine? No, don't tell me, I wanna guess…" Peter prattled enthusiastically. "You're a whisky man, aren't you?"
"Wow, spot on," Chris nodded, surprised. "How did you know?"
"You have that look about you, I guess. I just imagined you in a comfortable armchair near the fireplace, twirling whisky in your glass…”
"A lovely picture, though too bad that you don't have a fireplace here," Chris reminded him with a raised eyebrow, making Peter laugh.
They sat on the sofa, Chris taking a gulp of whisky while Peter sipped his wine lazily.
"Why do you even drink alcohol? You're a werewolf, you can't get drunk," he asked curiously as he put his glass away.
"It's funny, Melissa asked me exactly the same thing. The answer is simple, though: I like its taste and how it burns the throat. I tend to enjoy all the pleasures life has to offer, no matter how small."
Chris looked at Peter and saw only warmth in his twinkling eyes, and he felt… good, as if he finally found someone with whom he could relax and simply be himself. Acting on an impulse, he leaned in and covered the werewolf’s lips with his own.
It wasn’t anything extraordinary, only a brief touch of mouth to mouth, just enough that he had the chance to marvel at the softness of Peter’s lips and the foreign feeling of the man’s stubble scratching his face. Before the werewolf had the chance to react, he leaned back, knowing that the man couldn't possibly want this from him.
Peter's eyes were a little wide from surprise, but Chris was relieved that he didn't see any disgust or anger in them.
"I know that I'm irresistible, but… that was quite unexpected," Peter said lightly, though there was an underlying tension in his voice. "You're aware that I'm with Melissa and that I'm not gay, so- Why?"
Chris smiled sadly, bitterly. "I'm not making a pass on you, if that's what you're afraid of. I only wanted… some comfort, I guess. I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable."
Peter's gaze turned thoughtful. "Comfort, is that all what your kiss was about?"
Chris nodded. He knew that he was a mess, with everything that was happening in his marriage he felt lost, adrift, and the only thing he wanted at the moment was some warmth and human contact, that was all.
"Not to sound callous or insensitive, but if you're already in the process of divorcing Victoria, why don't you simply go to a club and find someone for a one-night stand, just to relieve some of the tension?" Peter asked, sounding genuinely curious.
Chris wished it was that simple.
"I can't," he blurted. "I'm demisexual, I don't get aroused until I've formed a deep emotional connection with someone. Having sex with a stranger… It's actually repelling for me."
He didn't mention that even though he was almost forty, he had sex with only three people in his entire life. First was his childhood friend with whom he’d explored his sexuality for the first time, the second was his high school love, though in the end they had gone separate ways, and third was Victoria, but that was an entirely different story, seeing as their union was purely political. He cringed when he recalled the first few attempts of consummating their marriage, it had been quite a humiliating experience which he would gladly forget.
"Oh," Peter murmured. "Is that why you kissed me, because you felt comfortable with me enough to do that?"
Chris nodded and looked away, suddenly embarrassed. There were very few people who knew that he was demisexual, it wasn't a topic that he could bring up in a casual conversation, not to mention there weren't that many people he trusted enough to reveal something so intimate about himself.
After a moment he felt hands cupping his face in a gentle but sure grip, making him look back at Peter. Slowly, the man leaned in to capture his lips in a kiss and Chris closed his eyes, soaking in the sensations. There was nothing hurried or lustful about the way Peter kissed, it was soft, gentle and entirely platonic, but it was enough to make Chris sigh with pleasure. For a short moment he felt the tip of Peter's tongue touching his own and he shuddered, causing the werewolf to retreat hastily, breaking the kiss.
"Sorry, Chris, but this is all that I can give you without feeling that I'm cheating on Melissa," Peter said apologetically.
He shook his head. He didn't want Peter to feel guilty, the man didn’t deserve it.
"Look, Peter, I don't want you to feel that you owe me anything, or feel compelled to do anything that you're not comfortable with. I'll be fine," he assured the man.
"If you're sure…"
"I am. But- thank you for that kiss, it was exactly what I needed."
"Sooo… On a scale from 1 to 10, how would you rate it?" Peter asked, his eyes twinkling again.
Chris laughed, glad to see him acting so naturally, as if nothing had happened. He would really hate it if he managed to botch their friendship by being too needy and too weak to deal with his loneliness on his own.
"You're a vain, vain man," he teased.
"Of course I am and I'm not ashamed to admit it," Peter grinned. "So, a rate?"
"That was barely a six," Chris deadpanned.
"A six! You wound me," Peter protested with a pout. "I'll have you know that I'm an excellent kisser."
Chris snickered and felt warmth blooming in his chest, a giddy, relaxed kind of happiness that made him feel lighter and younger than he'd felt in quite a long time.
Notes:
I liked the idea of Chris comforting Peter during the tattoo making and then Peter returning the favor, and somehow it ended up with a kiss (or two, to be more precise). I'm not sorry, though, I'd say that hey both deserve good things.
Chapter Text
It was Sunday, he was supposed to meet Stiles in two hours and he still didn't have any idea what to do or where to take the boy. This evening was going to end in a total disaster, he just knew that. He didn't know how to be romantic, he wasn't good with words and even worse with trying to woo someone.
Gritting his teeth, he grabbed his phone and called Stiles.
"Hi, Derek, it's good that you're calling, do you think that I could wear a t-shirt and sneakers? I'm not a big fan of fancy clothing, so…" the boy prattled.
"We should call it off," Derek interrupted him.
"Call off fancy clothing? I totally agree with you, because seriously, who would rather look posh when you could be more comfortable-"
"We should cancel our date," Derek said bluntly, his heart beating frantically in his chest.
"Alright, if you want us to meet some other time…" Stiles offered uneasily.
"I said cancel, not postpone," he barked and cursed himself for it.
There was a moment of silence, then-
"That's-" Stiles' voice shook, so he cleared his throat. "That's a shitty way of telling me that you're no longer interested, but thanks for not leading me on, I guess."
Derek closed his eyes, feeling like the worst kind of villain. "Stiles, it's not like that…" he tried to explain.
"Then tell me what's this about, because it awfully sounds like you're dumping me even before we started to be together," Stiles demanded, before he sighed and asked: "Tell me at least, did I do something wrong?"
"It's not you, it's me, I'm awful at this," Derek said honestly. "Dates, relationships, call it what you like, I'm dreadful at it. I have literally no idea what to do today, and you… you deserve better than that."
Deep down he knew that the boy was right. He was dumping Stiles, and not because of something tangible, but because of his own fear and feeling of inadequacy. Still, Stiles deserved better than a socially awkward guy who couldn't even hold a conversation, and certainly not a werewolf with a troubled past such as him.
"Derek… I don't care if we don't do anything special, we could stay in your loft and watch movies the whole evening. Just give us a chance, alright?" Stiles proposed tentatively.
He blinked, surprised at the offer. "You- You still want to do this, even though I basically turned you down?"
"I guess you did, but for totally wrong reasons. Look, you don't owe me anything," Stiles said bluntly. "If you want to call it off, then call it off, I'll be fine. But don't try to tell me that it's for my own good, because it's not."
Derek exhaled deeply. "Alright then, let's meet in my loft. And Stiles… I'm sorry."
"It's okay, as long as you make it up to me. You know, a good, long snog wouldn't be amiss," the teen suggested hopefully, and Derek barked a surprised laugh.
Maybe, just maybe, they could find a way to be together, despite their differences.
***
Scott was getting back from meeting with Peter and Chris when he realized that the tattoo studio was in the same part of the town as Deucalion's flat. He stopped and bit his lip. They had seen each other yesterday, would dropping by just the day after their date make it look like he was too eager? He always hated those weird rules that said you had to wait a couple of days after the first date before showing an interest. He and Deucalion were already past that stage, right? They were both very much interested and quickly getting involved with each other, so…
He fished the phone out of his pocket and called.
"Scott, what a pleasant surprise," Deucalion purred, and Scott felt his cheeks getting hot just from hearing the man's deep, suggestive voice.
"Um, I was taking care of some business near your flat and thought that I could drop by with a short visit?" he offered.
"Absolutely, I'd love to see you," the man said.
"Great, I'll see you in five, maybe ten minutes," Scott promised, then got on his bike, feeling his heart beating faster.
He lied, he was there in three minutes, probably breaking half a dozen of traffic rules while riding his bike like crazy. This time it was Deucalion who opened the door and Scott couldn't help drinking in the sight.
"Hi," he said with a small smile.
"Come on in," Deucalion invited him inside. "Let's go to my room, that'll give us some privacy."
"Great idea," Scott nodded and took off his shoes and jacket hurriedly.
As soon as the door to Deucalion's bedroom closed after them, Scott buried his hands in the man's hair and kissed him deeply. He felt Deucalion's body pressing into his and he sighed with pleasure.
"I wanted to see you but wasn't sure if you'd like that," Deucalion murmured between the kisses. "I was driving Kali and the twins crazy with my pacing."
"That must have been quite an entertaining sight," he said with a grin.
They looked at each other and laughed at the same time, Deucalion chuckling quietly while Scott buried his face in the man's chest to muffle his laughter. After they both calmed down, he pulled Deucalion to bed and they ended up half-lying, propped against a pile of fluffy pillows.
"Mhm, that's nice," Scott murmured, feeling the man's arms embracing him gently and pulling him even closer. He closed his eyes and inhaled Deucalion's scent deeply, feeling his muscles relax in the comforting embrace. "So, how was your day? Beside the pacing, I mean."
Deucalion was silent for a long moment, so Scott opened his eyes and peered at him worriedly. The man had a faraway look on his face, but quickly shook himself out of his stupor.
"I apologize, I just realized- It's been years since someone asked me that. It's so… domestic."
Scott tightened his hold on him and said quietly: "That's what a relationship means to me: small gestures, daily rituals… Knowing how you like your coffee, asking how your day was, it's all important to me. I'd like to learn all the small details about you, if you don't mind."
Deucalion kissed him softly, his hand making small circles on Scott's back as he murmured: "I should guard you like a dragon would guard its treasure."
"Deucalion the Dragon, sounds quite fitting," Scott snickered.
"Hush, that was a metaphor."
"But such an apt one," Scott teased him. "But honestly, tell me about your day."
"It was quite boring, to be honest, which made me think that I should find myself an occupation. Not a full time job, as I'd like to have flexible working hours, though," Deucalion mused while his hand continued to caress Scott's back absentmindedly. "What do you think?"
Scott thought about it for a moment. "What about being a narrator? You have a wonderful voice, you could record a sample of you reading some book and send it to a couple of publishing houses."
"That's... quite an intriguing idea," Deucalion said, surprised, before he asked huskily: "You like the sound of my voice?"
"Like it? I absolutely love it. It gives me goosebumps, you know, the good kind," Scott added with a slight blush.
Deucalion put his mouth near Scott's earlobe before whispering: "Does it make you feel good?"
"Oh yes..." Scott shivered and pulled the man into a long, deep kiss.
***
Deucalion couldn't quite believe the changes in himself. He had lived almost forty years without wanting anyone nearly as much as he wanted Scott, yet staying away from that wonderful, young Alpha seemed quite impossible to him now. Thankfully, his feelings seemed to be reciprocated, a fact he had yet to cease being amazed at. There was something absolutely endearing in the way Scott had sought his presence today, and he basked in the warmth of the teen's affection.
He still didn't understand why Scott had chosen him, of all people. The teen could have anyone, the way he affected everyone around him was nothing short of amazing. His power was unmistakable, and yet he remained kind and compassionate, traits not often found in Alpha werewolves. Scott seemed like an impossibility, too perfect to be true, and a small part of Deucalion was still waiting for the ball to drop. The larger part of him simply wanted to enjoy the rare feeling of happiness, though, regardless of what came after.
He pulled away from their kiss and buried his nose in Scott’s hair. Gods, but the boy smelled divine, sweet and enticing but also refreshing at the same time, reminding him of chocolate chip mint ice cream of all things. He smiled at his own thoughts, feeling quite silly but not minding it at all.
"I can sense that you're smiling, what's so funny?" Scott murmured.
"Nothing, I'm just happy that you're here, with me," he kissed the teen's temple softly. "I didn't get to ask you before, but how was your day?"
"Productive," Scott said, stretching lazily. "We broke into a tattoo studio so that I could give Peter my pack's mark."
Deucalion almost choked. "You broke into-"
"Yeah, but we just borrowed the tools, so no harm done, right?" the teen gave him a wink.
He laughed out loud. "Just when I think that I have figured you out, you keep surprising me."
"You don't know the half of it," Scott muttered under his breath. "Anyway, I hate to say it, but I really need to go home now."
Deucalion was saddened at the reminder, but released the teen from his arms obligingly. They left the bedroom and Scott started to put on his shoes, when two almost identical faces peered from another room.
Deucalion snorted. "Aiden, Ethan, stop acting like two overgrown meerkats and come say hi to Scott."
The twins smiled sheepishly and walked up to them.
"Hi Scott," they said unisono, making the young Alpha laugh.
"We've decided to go back to school tomorrow," Aiden revealed.
"That's brilliant!" Scott said with a wide smile. "Meet me a quarter before eight near the parking lot, alright? I'll talk to my pack so that they won't give you any trouble."
"Thanks," Aiden said, and Ethan nodded vigorously.
"Goodbye then," Scott said, then he turned to Deucalion and drew him into a quick but thorough kiss. When the teen left, Deucalion couldn't help but stare at his retreating silhouette for a moment.
"You two really are together, aren't you?" Ethan asked with amazement.
"Yes, we are," Deucalion said simply, and his voice sounded just as amazed as Ethan's.
Chapter Text
His friends' reaction to the twins' arrival at the school was, predictably, anything but warm and welcoming.
"What do you mean, they're coming back?" Lydia frowned. "They abducted us, they should be punished, not let off the hook!"
"I know that it wasn't me who was kidnapped, but Lydia's right," Stiles added, looking suspiciously at the twins. "How can we be sure what they're really planning? No one sane goes back to school just because they want to, they must have some ulterior motive."
The twins bristled angrily, Aiden especially as he opened his mouth to say something, but Scott put a hand on his arm, silencing him.
"For the record, it was my idea," he admitted. "I want them to have a chance at having a normal life and they won't ever find a proper job if they don't finish school."
"But why? Why do you even care?" Allison tilted her head curiously.
"Because they're werewolves, and we need to stick together," Scott said simply. "Boys, do you want to add anything?" He turned to the twins, signaling to them that they could plead their own case if they wished to.
"Look, no one but Scott cares if we're struggling or have a hard time adjusting to life among humans," Ethan fidgeted uneasily as everyone's attention turned to him. "Maybe it doesn't mean anything to you, but to us… It means a lot, so we won’t risk breaking his trust."
"Also, we've already promised that there will be no more kidnappings," Aiden said impassively, looking as if he didn't care if he was accepted by Scott's friends or not.
But Scott knew better. He knew that Aiden was feeling as worried as Ethan, maybe even more so, but he had a habit of hiding his true feelings behind this mask of his, pretending as if he couldn't care less. Knowing that it was just that, a show, Scott put a hand on the back of Aiden's painfully stiff neck, massaging it gently, a universal sign of an Alpha comforting his packmate.
He saw Jackson's eyes opening wide at the gesture as an understanding dawned on him. "I'm fine with them returning to school," the boy said.
"What? Why?" Lydia asked disbelievingly.
"Isn't it obvious? Scott treats them as if they belonged to his pack. It's enough for me."
Isaac looked between Jackson and Scott, his gaze thoughtful. "It's a werewolf thing, isn't it? Trusting the Alpha's judgement, no questions asked?"
"But Jackson's not a werewolf yet," Lydia reminded him.
" 'Yet' is the key word. I'm practically halfway there," Jackson huffed, affronted.
"You are," Scott nodded and couldn't hide an amused smile as he saw his future Beta almost preening with satisfaction. "So guys, can I trust that you will get along? You don't have to become friends all of a sudden, but I want you to act civil around each other, that's all. Can you promise me that?"
"Fine, fine," Lydia sighed long-sufferingly. "But we only agree to this for you, not them, so that's clear."
The others nodded to her words.
"Message received," Aiden said stiffly. "We'll try to stay out of your way."
"Well, pretty boy, you might've received a much warmer welcome if you actually apologized for what you did," with these words, Lydia turned on her heels and marched to the school, her strawberry blond curls bouncing with each step.
Aiden looked consideringly at her retreating form, his face thoughtful.
Scott figured that while this conversation could have gone better, it could have also gone much worse.
***
They had lacrosse practice in the afternoon and Jackson was happy to have a chance to blow off some steam. He started to change into his gear when Scott flopped onto the bench beside him.
"I wanted to thank you for accepting the twins," the Alpha said sincerely. "I know that it couldn't have been easy for you, so… thank you."
Jackson looked away, a little flustered by the teen’s presence. Even though there was nothing happening between them, he still couldn't help blushing each time Scott got closer to him, the reaction was automatic, as if ingrained into him.
"Actually, once I saw how you act around them, it was pretty easy to just… let the past stay in the past, I guess,” he shrugged.
Scott nodded. "Still, I appreciate it. Anyway, how’s the situation at home, everything’s under control?"
Jackson bit his lip for a second. "My father's been strangely silent and aloof, but I'm not sure if it's a good or bad thing. Hard to say with that man."
"Did you spend the whole weekend at home?" Scott asked him and Jackson nodded reluctantly. "Why didn't you say anything? I was quite busy, but still, we could've spent some time together."
"I didn't want to be a bother," he mumbled, then bent over to tie his shoes to hide his embarrassment at the attention he was getting, even though deep inside he craved it. "Didn't want you to think that I'm more trouble than I'm worth."
He felt a warm hand on his back, and when he straightened he realized that his Alpha was looking at him worriedly.
"I wish I could hug all those bad thoughts out of you, but it's hardly the time or place..." Scott murmured wistfully, then added: "What would you say if I managed to convince Coach to give you co-captainship of the team? Would it make things at home easier for you?"
Jackson's jaw dropped. "You're- you're serious?" he stammered.
He had long since accepted the fact that he'd lost the captainship and he tried hard not to let it bother him. While he would admit that Scott had better people skills, he still felt that he was better at tactics and building the team's strategy. To be offered a co-captainship was a perfect solution, not to mention it could actually help him to get back into his father's good graces.
"Absolutely, you deserve it as much as I do, if not more," Scott assured him. "Not to mention, you would've still be the captain if it wasn't for that awful homophobic act and that's already in the past, so… Let me talk to Coach, alright?"
Jackson nodded and watched as Scott went to the coach's office.
***
Danny had wanted to talk with Jackson for ages, but since the boy seemed to be always surrounded by his new group of friends, he decided to wait for the lacrosse practice to catch him alone. Just as he managed to gather his resolve to walk up to Jackson, McCall beat him to it, and Danny cursed under his breath.
He walked a little closer under the pretense of getting his equipment, trying to hear what the two were saying, but only managing to catch bits and pieces of their conversation. What shocked him the most, though, were the small touches McCall was giving Jackson, and the way Jackson leaned into them rather than shying away.
Danny bit his lip, suddenly feeling guilty. He had been so jealous and hurt by the way Jackson had suddenly found himself new friends that he didn't even stop to consider that maybe this was what Jackson needed all along. He would be a jerk if he begrudged his friend some happiness, especially when he knew how shitty Jackson's situation at home was.
He clenched his jaw. Arguing with Jackson had always left him with a sour taste in his mouth, and this time was no different. If he was being honest with himself, he missed his friend, so he promised to himself to at least try and mend bridges with him… even if it meant being friendly to McCall and his group.
***
Melissa heard the phone calling and opened her eyes reluctantly, trying to shake off sleep. She grabbed the phone blindly and managed to unlock it on her second try, which considering her sleepiness was quite an achievement.
"Hi Peter, is there something wrong?" she mumbled.
"Did I wake you up? Wait, you're after the night shift at the hospital, aren't you? I totally forgot, I'm sorry, I'll call you later," he apologized.
"No, it's alright, I'm awake now," she said, then stifled a yawn. "What got you so excited?"
"I wanted to ask you if you'd like to help me buy stuff for Malia's room. Between my unmatched, superior sense of style and your knowledge of what a girl needs we should be able to set up a perfect room for her."
Despite her sleepiness, Melissa smiled indulgently at her lover’s bragging, since it was rather harmless and also quite true, considering the fact that style was Peter's passion and his second nature (beside him being a werewolf, that is).
"Alright, but give me an hour, I need a shower and a strong coffee if we’re going on an impromptu shopping spree," she agreed.
"Go take a shower and I'll be at your place in half an hour with the most delicious coffee you've ever tasted, prepared by the best barista in town," he offered. "How does that sound?"
"Like you're spoiling me rotten," she laughed. "Alright, handsome, go get that coffee, I'll be waiting."
She went to the bathroom and took a long, refreshing shower, allowing the lukewarm water to wash away the last remnants of sleep. While she stood under the shower, feeling the streams of water flowing down her body, she couldn't help thinking about Peter and how he'd changed her life. She no longer identified herself as a single mother of an adolescent boy, she was also a lover of the most incredible man she'd ever met, and it was a heady feeling.
She sighed, feeling a spike of arousal just thinking about him, and turned the water slightly colder, just to get herself under control. She was an almost forty year old woman, not a teenage girl mooning over her boyfriend…
When she walked downstairs wearing a bathrobe, her hair still damp from the shower, Peter was already there, waiting for her with fresh croissants and a cup of deliciously smelling coffee.
She kissed him in greeting, then cuffed his ear lightly when he nibbled her lip a little too enthusiastically with his teeth.
"None of that, please, I want my lips to be intact if we're going shopping in a moment," she reminded him.
"No teeth, understood," he smiled sheepishly.
She took a gulp from the cup and damn if it wasn't the best coffee she's ever tasted. Peter hadn't been bragging for nothing, it seemed. "So, how was your Sunday?" she asked as she bit into her croissant.
Rather than replying, he got up to take off his shirt.
"What-" she started to say, and then she saw the new tattoo on Peter's arm, one she recognized immediately.
"Scott gave me his pack's mark. It was an unpleasant reminder how much I hate needles, but it was definitely worth it," he showed her the tattoo proudly.
She hid a smile behind her cup because at that moment Peter looked just like a kid showing off his shiny new toy.
"I'm happy for you," she said after a moment, once she was sure she controlled herself enough so that she wouldn't burst out laughing. "So, you got yourself a brand new tattoo, anything else worth mentioning?"
She was surprised to see his face turning serious.
"Afterwards, I went with Chris to my apartment to celebrate, and then... we kissed," Peter confessed, then added: "But it was completely platonic, I promise."
She put the cup down, her hand shaking. "You did what?..."
"Chris was feeling downcast because of his ongoing divorce and needed some comforting, so… He's my friend, I simply wanted him to feel better," Peter explained.
She didn't know what to think, Peter had never shown any interest in men before, and it was the last thing she would've expected from him. In a way, she was glad that he’d kissed a man and not a woman, somehow that made her slightly less jealous, no matter how irrational that thought was. Still, he was with her, he shouldn't have wanted to kiss anyone else but her…
"A kiss, is that all that happened between you two?" she asked, just to be sure.
"Of course," he assured, looking her straight in the eye. "I wouldn't cheat on you, nor would I ever lie to you, I'm not that kind of a man. That's why I'm telling you what happened, because I don't want to hide anything from you."
Melissa looked at him carefully, gauging his honesty, but she couldn’t sense any falsehood in his words.
She swallowed with difficulty, her throat suddenly parched. "Show me," she demanded. "Show me how you kissed him."
Peter nodded, then leaned in her direction, gently touching her mouth with his. The kiss was radically different from the ones they usually shared, there was none of the heat and desire in it, and she had to reluctantly admit that it was quite chaste.
After a moment, Peter leaned back and said quietly: "I don't regret kissing Chris, he needed it and I'm glad I was there for him. I'm sorry if it hurt you, though, it wasn't my intention."
She shook her head. "It's alright... I think," she added uncertainly. "It's not something that I would've ever predicted, but- I went through a divorce, once, and I know how wretched I was feeling at that time. I wish I had someone back then who would comfort me just like you did it for Chris."
Peter's shoulders relaxed as he took her hand and squeezed it gently. "Thank you, love," he murmured. "You're the most incredible, wonderful woman I've ever met, I hope that you know that. I'm lucky to have you."
She blushed at the compliment, feeling quite proud of herself that she didn't let her jealousy get the better of her. She wouldn't stand for Peter actually cheating on her, but an innocent kiss such as the one that he'd just shown her… She didn't feel like it could threaten their relationship, it was too platonic for that.
She only hoped that the future wouldn’t prove her wrong, though.
Chapter 107
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Malia was getting back from the hunt with her belly pleasantly full, when she sensed some foreign scents, and the smell was getting stronger the closer she got to her cave. She felt her hackles rising and she growled lowly in the back of her throat. Intruders!
She sped up, feeling a mix of anger and fear as she ran through the woods, her paws barely touching the ground with the speed that she was moving. It was her territory and she wanted to rip the intruders apart for even daring to get close to her cave.
The scents though… they confused her. It was like smelling a wild animal and a human at the same time, and she didn't know what to make of it. It wasn't like the scent of a dog walking through the woods with its owner, she had encountered dogs before but this wasn't it, the scent was too strong and too wild for that.
Who were they?...
She suddenly came to a halt in front of the cave, seeing two humans walking out of it, and for a moment anger clouded her fear. This was her shelter, they shouldn't be here, leaving their scents all over the place as if they had any right to be there!
She growled warningly, feeling all her muscles tightening in the anticipation of an attack, when she saw one of the humans changing, morphing into a huge black beast, its eyes glowing with an eerie red light. Before she could react, the wolf leaped with an inhuman speed and within seconds it was beside her. She bared her teeth in a warning, but the beast roared deafeningly, and she cautiously took a step back. This wasn't just any wolf, it was an Alpha, and she had no chance against it if she chose to fight.
What confused her, though, was that she recognized its scent. Even though her memories were fragmented and scattered, her instinct told her that it wasn't the first time she sensed this smell. She couldn't say how or when she had first encountered it, but the memory was ingrained deep in her mind: it was the smell of a home, of a family.
She suddenly felt strange, as if something snapped within her, almost like a bone that had been broken for so long she forgot about it until it snapped back into place, making her whole again.
In shock, she looked at herself and instead of fur, she saw bare skin, and realized that her paws were no longer paws… but human hands.
***
Peter barely registered that Scott handed him back his clothes, torn in some places after he had transformed into his wolf form. He quickly put them on, his eyes not leaving Malia who was still sitting on the ground, looking at her hands with disbelief.
He grabbed a blanket they had prepared beforehand and took a step in Malia's direction, when her head snapped up, her blue eyes flaring in what could have been a warning but also a sign of distress. He was getting mixed signals from her scent, so it was hard to say which emotion was the strongest at the moment.
"Who are you?" she croaked, the words more resembling a screeching than a human voice.
"A family," he said, being vague on purpose. He didn't think this was an even remotely good moment for telling her the truth about her real parentage.
"He?" she pointed at Scott.
"Scott's a friend, and my Alpha," Peter explained. "We're werewolves, just like you are a werecoyote."
"What do you want?" she asked, her brows furrowed as she stood up on wobbly legs, apparently not caring in the slightest that she was completely naked.
"To take you home," he simply said.
When she didn't say anything, Peter took a step in her direction, then another, and put the blanket around her shoulders. She clutched at the fluffy material as if it was her lifeline, for the first time showing a glimpse of how vulnerable she was feeling. With a shaking hand (a fact he would later deny) he caressed her matted hair, and was relieved when she let him.
***
Scott was happy to see the tentative trust between Malia and Peter forming right in front of his eyes. He was glad that it was Peter who took the initiative in their encounter with the girl, as he knew how important first impressions were. There might be a hope for them to become a true family, after all.
Getting Malia into the car was a different story altogether, though. When she saw the vehicle, she stopped dead in her tracks and whined quietly.
"No, no, no…" she mouthed quietly, her eyes wide and panicked. "I won't, you can't make me-"
"It's alright, you're safe," Scott murmured and closed his eyes, reaching to the dormant pack bond between them and nudging it gently to see if he could awaken it.
"What did you do?" she asked, surprised, for a moment forgetting about the car. "Why can I feel you?"
"We're a pack, Malia," Scott explained softly. "Neither myself nor Peter would ever intentionally endanger you. I know that you have awful memories of travelling in a car, but it won't happen again."
She bit her lip uncertainly. "You promise?"
"I swear," he said solemnly.
When she nodded reluctantly, he exhaled in relief. One crisis averted… How many more to go?
***
Peter drove in silence, feeling a myriad of conflicting emotions all at once. He couldn't help glancing at Malia in the car mirror every once in a while, and he marvelled at how familiar she looked, her eyes being almost identical to her mother's while the blond hair she had definitely inherited from him. He truly was a father, and wasn't that an incredible thought?
And yet he couldn't help but feel jealous of the pack bond Scott had already formed with Malia. He knew that it was probably the legacy of the time traveller's first life, but still… Peter wanted to be Malia's Alpha, to not only form a family with her but also his own pack, miniscule as it might be at the moment. But it seemed that he was already too late for that, wasn't he?
He tried not to feel hurt or bitter at the thought that Malia would join Scott's pack, as he knew perfectly well that it was petty and egotistical of him, but he still couldn't help feeling that way. Scott had so many packmates, current and future ones, couldn't he let Peter have Malia in his pack at least?
He clutched at the steering wheel hard as if trying to suppress his feelings with the force of his grip, when he felt a warm hand rubbing his arm calmingly.
"What's wrong?" Scott asked quietly, his eyes clouded with worry, making Peter feel even worse.
"Nothing you need to concern yourself with," he said harshly, and almost cringed at hearing his own words.
"It's clearly not nothing if it makes you act like this," Scott said calmly, seemingly not bothered by Peter's dismissive tone. "Whatever it is, let me know once you're ready to talk about it, alright?"
Peter sighed, knowing that Scott didn't deserve to be treated that way. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.
Scott just nodded and continued to rub his arm in silence. He didn't say anything, not even when Peter relaxed his vice-like grip on the steering wheel, revealing the dents his fingers had made in it.
***
"McCall, my office, now," Rafael heard when he got into his office on Wednesday morning.
He tried to think about a possible reason why his boss would need him, all the cases he had been assigned were taken care of, he was also on track with his reports, even though he usually hated the paperwork, so that couldn't be it either.
"Isn't your son's name Scott?"
He blinked, surprised at the question. "It is. Why?"
Walt looked at him consideringly. "Didn't you say that he's a sickly, weak boy?"
"Well, he suffers from asthma so it's hard for him to get into shape," he explained, feeling a little offended on Scott's behalf. "Boss, what is this all about?"
"Well, either there are two Scott McCalls in Beacon Hills, or your son has suddenly become a master in martial arts. Here, take a look at this," Walt pushed a file in his direction. "The local police managed to catch a ringleader and two members of his gang which had an arrest warrant in three states for drug dealing and human trafficking. According to the Sheriff's report, they were beaten unconscious by Scott McCall, a sixteen year old boy who allegedly is also a master of a martial art called Baguazhang."
Rafael took the file and felt his eyebrows raising higher with each sentence.
"Boss, I haven't seen Scott in a couple of years, but it seems hardly possible that he managed to master any kind of martial art, considering his asthma," he said finally. "More probably, the Sheriff is trying to hide something, but why he's using such a laughable method is beyond me. No one sane would ever believe it."
Walt leaned slightly forward. "Well, there's one method to find out, isn't it? There's going to be a hearing scheduled soon, once the judge assigns the date I want you to go to Beacon Hills and investigate it. The police are obviously trying to cover their tracks and I need you to find out what it is that they're hiding."
Rafael nodded. "Yes, sir."
Once he walked out of Walt's office, he went to his own desk and sat down, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully. He would have never thought Noah capable of using Scott in his scheming, but he hadn't seen the man for years, and people changed. He didn't even know if Scott and Stiles were still friends, so it was possible that the boys had simply grown apart and Noah no longer felt any kind of loyalty to the McCalls.
It certainly sounded plausible, but deep down Rafael knew that it was a wrong lead, and his intuition was warning him that the truth was much more complicated than that.
"Stilinski, what are you playing at?..." he muttered thoughtfully under his breath.
Notes:
Yup, Malia has joined the pack (finally) and Rafael is coming back to Beacon Hills soon(-ish)!
Chapter Text
"This is not home," were Malia's first words once Peter opened the door to his apartment and invited her in. She looked around suspiciously, instantly on alert. "I thought you'd take me to my dad."
Peter suppressed a sigh. He knew that gaining Malia's trust wasn't going to be a walk in the park, and he tried not to let his daughter's almost hostile attitude bother him too much.
"There are a couple of things we need to take care of, before you can see him," he said, instead.
She looked up, her dark eyes narrowing. "Why? I want to see him now. Why can't I see him?"
"Henry believes that you're dead, killed by the coyote who also attacked his wife and younger daughter. What he doesn't know is that you and that coyote are one and the same," he said bluntly.
Malia bit her lip for a moment before she straightened. "Well, I'm a human again, so he doesn’t need to know," she reasoned.
At least I know she’s as stubborn as her parents, Peter thought to himself, amused.
"You're not a human, you're a werecoyote," Scott reminded her patiently. "The animal in you will manifest each full moon, and also when you're angry, upset or distressed. It's not safe for you to be around humans until we know for sure that you can control yourself and not endanger anyone."
Peter nodded. "The next full moon is just in a couple of days, so we want you to stay with us for now so that we can monitor your transformation. But first, you need to refresh yourself and get dressed.”
"You can't tell me what to-" Malia started protesting when Peter growled impatiently, his eyes flashing an Alpha red for a split second.
"Bathroom first, talk later," he repeated.
She shot him a dirty look, before her shoulders sagged a little and she nodded. He showed her to the bathroom and, conscious of what Scott had told him earlier about how she might have problems adjusting to being human again, demonstrated how the faucet worked and where she could find the clothes he'd prepared in advance for her. Once he was sure that she’ll manage on her own, he left, closing the door behind him.
He returned to the living room and sat on the sofa bonelessly, feeling as if he'd just run a marathon, at the very least. He sensed Scott standing beside him and then the teen started to gently knead his tense muscles with his knuckles. He exhaled slowly, feeling the tension leaving his body, his inner wolf purring with pleasure at being taken care of by his Alpha.
"Better?" the teen asked after the impromptu massage as he sat down beside Peter.
He nodded gratefully and hesitated for a moment before baring his throat to Scott in willing submission. It wasn’t the first time he had done this, but this time there was also something else in his gesture, a need for Scott to re-affirm his claim on him. Once, he would have been ashamed by his needs, but now he accepted them as a part of himself and was able to reveal them to Scott without feeling self-conscious.
Scott considered his pose carefully, as if looking through skin and muscles and deeper even, right into his very soul, before leaning forward and biting Peter’s exposed throat with his suddenly extended fangs. The bite was surprisingly intent and deep, but it was exactly what Peter needed at the moment as it caused him to feel both owned and cared for. He closed his eyes, reveling in the feeling of being fully accepted for who and what he was, and he shuddered.
This was what he'd been searching for his entire life, even though he hadn’t known it at that time: an Alpha who would recognize his needs and wouldn't judge him for them. He didn’t know any other werewolf beside Scott who would be so in tune with his animal nature and at the same time manage to stick so close to his humanity, it seemed like an impossibility and yet the young Alpha was a living proof of the contrary.
He felt Scott’s tongue lapping up a few droplets of blood from the wound when he heard the door to the bathroom getting open.
"Wow, this is weird," Malia commented, shooting them curious looks. “Aren’t you both Alphas? Shouldn’t you be fighting for territory or something?”
“I consider Scott my Alpha, but he's also my anchor,” Peter explained, feeling strangely at ease, though probably it was due to the high of being bitten. “When things get tough, he makes sure that I don't break anything… or break apart."
Scott nodded, wiping the blood off his lips. "Each werewolf needs an anchor in order to stay in control, especially during a full moon. Without an anchor, instead of controlling yourself, you let your inner animal control you."
"So I need to find… what exactly?" Malia asked, confused.
"Very often it's a person or a group. But sometimes it's a specific emotion which allows you to control yourself, like love… or anger. It's different for each werewolf," Peter explained.
"Uh-huh," she muttered sceptically. "So you’re saying that staying with you is going to help me find this anchor thing?"
"That’s the basic idea, yes,” Peter nodded.
“But since it’s unlikely that you’ll find your anchor so quickly, being a part of the pack should help in the meantime,” Scott added, smiling warmly at Malia. “That’s why you felt my emotions earlier, the pack bond will help to ground you until you find other ways to remain in control during the full moon.”
Peter instantly felt ashamed that he hadn’t considered the reasoning behind Scott claiming Malia into his pack before he'd snapped at the teen. He'd been so focused on feeling hurt and betrayed that he hadn’t even stopped to think that maybe it was for the better. Now, he started to wonder if it truly mattered whose pack Malia would belong to, when they were all connected through Scott and the lines between their packs were bound to be blurred either way.
Apparently, Scott must have sensed his remorse as the teen rubbed his back soothingly, and just like that Peter knew that he was forgiven.
***
Melissa was pacing at home, waiting for Scott to come back from Peter's apartment and to share the news about Malia. She hoped that everything went according to the plan, both for Malia's and Peter's sake, and she couldn't help walking nervously around the house, waiting for Scott's return.
She wished she had someone beside her just so that they could be nervous together, but the only other person knowing about Malia's rescue mission was Chris, and she wasn't entirely sure how she felt about the man at the moment.
On one hand, she honestly enjoyed spending time with him and considered him a friend, especially after he'd protected Scott, which she would always be grateful for. On the other hand, a small part of her was still afraid that he would try to take Peter away from her, which she wouldn't ever be able to forgive. Still, she knew that she couldn't ignore Chris forever, they needed to talk about it, and soon.
Decision made, she grabbed her phone and selected his number. In the middle of the fifth ring, when she was a second away from disconnecting, he finally picked up.
"Hi Melissa, I didn't expect your call," he said stiffly, his uncertainty painfully clear to her.
"Peter told me about the kiss, so this silly act of ignoring the elephant in the room won't get us anywhere," she said bluntly. "I thought that we were close enough to be able to talk with each other honestly and openly. Was I wrong?"
"Of course not, you're right, and I'm sorry," he said remorsefully. "I have a free afternoon, do you want me to come?"
"Sounds perfect," she said sincerely, instantly feeling better about the whole thing. If Chris was ready to talk with her, it meant that whatever had happened between him and Peter, it couldn't have been anything serious. Maybe it truly had been only about comfort and she needn't worry about losing Peter, after all...?
She didn't have to wait long for Chris to arrive, and she opened the door a second before he had a chance to ring the doorbell.
He blinked, surprised, and Melissa smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, I've been pacing the whole afternoon waiting for the news about Malia," she explained. "Come on in."
As he entered, she couldn't help but think that he looked tired and weary, as if he hadn't been sleeping and eating properly, and she didn't like that sight. It helped her understand why Peter had felt that the man needed comforting, though, and whatever anger or resentment she still nursed deep in her heart suddenly disappeared. This was Chris, their friend, and he needed them now more than ever, she realized.
"Won't I get a hug or anything?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
Chris' head snapped up and he looked like a deer caught in headlights, his confusion almost palpable in the air. Sighing, she put her arms around the man, though she needed to stand on her toes a little to make up for the height difference. Slowly, he hugged her back, as if he couldn't believe it was really happening.
She squeezed his shoulders gently before stepping back and taking a scrutinizing look at the deep lines around his mouth and deep shades underneath his eyes.
"I see that you haven't been properly taking care of yourself," she pressed her lips tightly with displeasure. "When was the last time you had a good night's sleep and a proper meal? No, don't answer that, better sit down and I'll get you something to eat."
She started to walk to the kitchen when Chris stopped her by grabbing her arm in a gentle grip.
"Melissa…" he said quietly. "I won't be able to eat anything, I'm too stressed out for that. You said that you wanted to talk, that's what I'm here for."
Her face softened a bit: "To be honest, I only have one question: do you plan to come between Peter and I?"
"No, of course not, I wouldn't do that, ever," he protested vehemently, his face pale and drawn.
She took his hands and squeezed them gently. "That's really all I needed to know. Now, I want you to stop being so skittish, like you're not sure how to act around me any longer. I haven't stopped being your friend, you know."
Judging by Chris' wide eyes, he expected exactly the opposite. He swallowed with difficulty and asked: "You're not angry with me?"
"Of course not, you forget that I went through a divorce, once, so I know first handedly how awful the process can make you feel. If you ever need to talk or just simply want some company, you have me, Peter, Scott… You're not alone in this," she assured him. "Now, back to the matter at hand: are you hungry?"
He smiled crookedly. "Honestly? Starving."
She nodded and disappeared in the kitchen for a moment. When she got back with a bowl of soup and some sandwiches, he murmured quietly: "Thank you. Just… thank you," and she knew that he didn't only mean the food.
Chapter 109
Notes:
A fair warning, this chapter is more of an interlude, but an important one.
Chapter Text
He heard the whip cracking, its sound as loud as thunder, and when it hit its mark, it left a fiery brand of pain on his back. He staggered and fell to his knees, feeling so weak, so utterly powerless-
Scott woke up with a gasp, his heart hammering in his chest. The pain felt so real that he curled on the bed for a moment, hugging himself miserably. When the pain finally subsided, he inhaled shakily, trying to wrap his head around what had just happened. It wasn't a memory; for all the horrors he'd endured in his previous life, a whipping wasn't one of them. It wasn't a simple nightmare, either, as it had felt much too real for that.
So if it wasn't a nightmare or a memory, what was it, then?
Feeling shaken but not wanting to wake anyone up, he opened the window and walked outside. When he jumped off the roof, he barely managed to keep his balance, as if his werewolf senses and instincts suddenly started to fail him. He walked aimlessly, his head pounding something awful, to the point that he'd tripped a couple of times, not watching where he was going. When his vision started to blur, he thought grimly that leaving the house in such a state probably wasn't his best idea.
Feeling faint, he sat down on the pavement and hid his head in his arms. He didn't know what was happening to him, but he probably needed to call someone. He hated to wake up anyone in the middle of the night, but he didn't feel even remotely capable of heading back home on his own, so he really needed to ask someone for help.
He started to rummage through his pockets only to realize that he'd forgotten to take his phone with him. He closed his eyes for a moment and tried to awaken one of his pack bonds but... there wasn't anything there. He gasped in panic, it couldn't be true-
He reached deeper within himself, but where all the bonds with his packmates had once been, there was only a complete and utter emptiness now, a gaping, silent void, and he felt despair sinking its cold claws into his heart.
Your time is getting short, young wolf, a disembodied voice whispered, and he couldn't help thinking that it sounded a lot like Lydia, though more dispassionate. Don't waste what little of it you have left.
His vision swam, black spots floating in front of his eyes. He opened his mouth and suddenly realized that he couldn't breathe-
Scott woke up with a gasp, his heart hammering in his chest. Was he really awake this time? he wondered in panic. He felt a couple of tears rolling down his cheeks as he tried to convince himself that it truly was only a nightmare, it had to be a nightmare, he didn't know what he could do without his pack-
He reached inside himself and exhaled shakily, feeling almost faint with relief, as he felt his pack bonds pulsing with a wonderful, soothing warmth. They were still there. His packmates, his friends, his family, he could still feel them…
Trembling, he started to cry, burying his face in a pillow.
***
In the morning he woke up late, feeling tired and battered inside. He blinked sleepily, then realized it was knocking on the door that woke him up.
"I'm up," he called out as he sat up on the bed.
The door opened and Isaac peered in, his eyes widening as he saw the state Scott was in. "Hey, what's wrong?" the boy asked worriedly.
Scott didn't know if he would be able to explain the strange, troubling dreams he'd had, so he just shook his head wordlessly. Instead of talking, he stood up and walked up to Isaac, then pulled him into a tight embrace, inhaling the familiar scent deeply. He didn't realize that he was shaking, until Isaac started to rub his arms and back.
"I'm fine, I just need to- I wanted to-" he started to mumble into the boy’s chest, when Isaac interrupted him gently.
"It's alright, you don't need to explain. You can hug me whenever you like, with or without a reason," the boy offered.
Scott sniffled wetly. "Thanks, and sorry for being such a mess."
Isaac only tightened his hold on him. "Hey, you helped me when I was feeling down more times than I can count, so it's only fair that I start returning the favor."
When they went downstairs, Scott clutched Isaac's hand desperately, as if wanting to make sure that the boy was real, alive and well.
***
The morning started the pattern of Scott embracing everyone he cared for, his mom, his friends at school… The reactions he got varied from surprised to worried, but they all hugged him back and he was thankful that they accepted him just as he was. After tonight, he swore to himself never to take their presence for granted.
"I love you guys," he blurted during the lunch break, when they all sat at one table. "I can't imagine my life without you all."
"We love you too, mate" Stiles said, patting him on the back, while the others nodded.
"You're surprisingly likable," Lydia said, acting aloof, but her words made Scott grin. From her, it was a high praise indeed.
***
In the afternoon, he got a message from Chris: "The Calaveras are going to arrive early next week." and he knew that the time of peace was coming to an end.
Chapter Text
Inviting more hunters to Beacon Hills was risky, Scott knew that perfectly well, just as he was aware that he had taken a gamble with the Calaveras who were known for their harsh treatment of werewolves. Still, the hunt for supernatural creatures needed to stop, and quickly, before it escalated into a total war. And if the hunters didn't comply… So far, he'd been using his knowledge of the future to save lives, but should they force his hand, he could very well use it to decimate their ranks.
He was worried for his pack, though. He hoped that the Calaveras would act as guests that they were, but if they decided to apply their usual methods of dealing with werewolves here, in Beacon Hills, he would need to be ready to protect his pack and loved ones…
His breath hitched for a split second when he realized that Deucalion didn't know about Araya yet, and that the Alpha Pack needed to be warned about the potential threat. He couldn't imagine what he would do if he once again lost Deucalion to hunters' guns. He hadn't yet lost control over himself in this life, but if that happened... he didn't know what he would do, then.
***
When Scott called him, asking if his pack was present and if he could talk to them, Deucalion instantly became worried. He had this strange feeling as if he was no longer speaking with his young lover, but someone older and world-weary, and when Scott showed up in the apartment, the feeling only intensified.
He offered the teen something to drink, but received only a shake of head as Scott asked everyone to gather in the living room. Kali appeared with a scowl on her face, obviously unhappy at being summoned by a rival Alpha, but the twins came eagerly, though they seemed to immediately sense Scott's unusually serious mood.
"Alright guys, I wanted to let you know that there's going to be a hunters' gathering in Beacon Hills next week. I know that you're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself and that you’re not the Alpha Pack for nothing, but I'd feel better if you could just lie low for a couple of days," Scott explained.
"More hunters?" Ethan asked, confused.
"Yes, the Calaveras. They're the biggest werewolf-hunting clan in Mexico, they'll be here to visit the Argents."
Deucalion frowned at the news. It was bad enough that there were the Argents in the town already, and more hunters usually meant more trouble brewing.
"I've heard about the Calaveras and their methods of… extracting information," he said slowly. "They're master executioners, though they pride themselves for sticking to their Code, but it's almost meaningless, seeing as they almost always find an excuse to justify their use of violence."
Scott nodded. "You've heard right, they're not the people any werewolf would want to cross unless there's no other option. They have a torture chamber back in their headquarters in Mexico, and it's used quite frequently, so… Just try to keep a low profile for now, alright? I'd hate to see any of you getting hurt."
Deucalion looked at him gratefully. "Thank you for the warning, we'll make sure not to attract unwanted attention."
Scott gave him a small smile, for the first time today looking more like his usual self.
"Wait, how do you know that they're coming to Beacon Hills?" Kali asked suddenly, crossing her arms over her chest suspiciously.
Scott turned to her, his face unreadable. "I was told by a friend," he said vaguely.
Deucalion took in the sudden tenseness of his shoulders, and a realization dawned on him. "You've got an inside source among the hunters," he breathed shakily as the teen nodded. "Scott, you can't trust them, they only want to lure you into a trap-"
Scott took his hand gently in his. "Listen, I know what Gerard did to you, how he betrayed you, but Chris is not like his father-"
Hearing the hated name, Deucalion yanked his hand away from Scott's grip. "You're friends with Gerard Argent's son," he said with disbelief, the feeling of betrayal burning his insides like an acid.
"I am, but-" Scott started to say, but Deucalion instantly saw red and didn't let him finish. In one swift move, he grabbed Scott by the t-shirt and pushed him hard against the wall.
"You'll cease all contact with that man," he hissed into the teen's surprised face. "I won't stand for you fraternizing with the enemy."
For a moment, something like regret flashed through Scott's face, but it was gone within a blink of an eye. With a strength belying his lithe body, the teen shoved him away and straightened to his full height.
"Chris is a good man and my friend, so be careful with your words," the young Alpha said quietly, warningly. "I'm giving you the chance to take it back and apologize. You better take it."
But Deucalion was still remembering the stink of gas grenades and the pain of his eyes being burned out, so he bared his fangs at him.
"There's no such thing as good hunter," he growled with pure hatred in his voice. The next thing he knew it was he who was pushed against the wall, Scott's clawed hands tightening around his arms, keeping him in place.
"For your information, the last time a hunter tried to shoot me, it was Chris who shielded me with his own body and took a bullet for me, while you only seem capable of attacking me. So, next time you feel like judging someone, try for some humility first," the teen said coldly, then left without looking back. Deucalion stared after him, the gravity of what he'd done slowly sinking in.
He looked around and, meeting Kali's impassive gaze and the twins' shocked faces, snarled: "All of you, leave." When they didn't react, he roared: "I said, leave!"
The boys scampered away, while Kali left more sedately, closing the door quietly behind her.
Deucalion sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He knew that he and Scott were radically different, that they hardly had anything in common, but never would he have guessed that they'd disagree on something so fundamental and obvious as the enmity between werewolves and hunters. Scott was young, though, he might still be harboring the naive belief that there could be peace between their people… Deucalion had been like that, once, but he'd learned the hard way never to trust a hunter.
Still, he recalled Scott's words how Chris Argent had saved his life while Deucalion only seemed capable of violence, and guilt almost overwhelmed him at the thought that he'd hurt the one person he was in love with. And even his own feelings aside, Scott had come here today to warn them about the potential threat, and he’d rewarded the teen’s good will with an unprovoked attack.
Deucalion slid down the wall and hid his face in his hands, wondering how the things between them had turned so bad, so quickly, and if there was anything he could do to make them right.
***
Scott regretted leaving Deucalion's apartment almost instantly, but he was too hurt by the man's irrational, violent behaviour to stay even a moment longer in the same room as him. That's why he walked away, even though it pained him almost physically, and once he was out of the building he started to run in a random direction, blinded by hot, furious tears.
How could Deucalion be so… Hateful, so malicious? He knew that the man had been hurt by Gerard, and if Scott ever got his hands on that monster he probably would ended up killing him with his bare hands. However, hating the son for his father's crimes seemed spiteful and unfair, and he expected Deucalion to know better than that.
When he finally got himself under control, he stopped running, took a deep lungful of air and wiped his face with his sleeve. He wondered if he'd been too harsh with Deucalion, but he never took kindly to his packmates being insulted or threatened. Still, there was nothing he could do about it, now. Either Deucalion would finally learn to curb his violent tendencies, or them being together wasn't going to work.
He breathed deeply a couple of times, when he heard quiet steps behind him, and realized that he'd been followed. He tensed for a moment, before he caught a sniff of the scent in the air and recognized it as belonging to the twins.
"You can come out," he called out loudly and the boys walked out of the alley, looking at him with obvious apprehension. "What are you two doing here? Does Deucalion know that you followed me?"
"He threw us out, we don't know for how long," Aiden said stiffly, and Scott instantly felt angry on their behalf. It was one thing for Deucalion to argue with him, but another to take it out on the boys who hadn't done anything to deserve such a treatment.
"Do you want me to knock some sense into him?" he offered, but Aiden shook his head.
"No, he just- He needs to cool off in solitude for a while," the boy said reluctantly and looked away.
Ethan looked at his twin and bit his lip, then turned to Scott. "We thought that maybe we could- If it's not too much to ask-" he started awkwardly, but Scott caught on instantly.
"Do you need a place to stay for the night?" he asked, and they nodded in sync. "Come on, then."
When they beamed at him gratefully, he put his hands on the back of their necks, and they both leaned into the touch.
Next time he saw Deucalion, he was going to give him a piece of his mind, as regardless of their own issues, the boys needed a true home, a place to call their own without being afraid of getting thrown out whenever Deucalion had an angry fit.
He sighed heavily. He already missed the man, but for once he wasn't going to be the one to reach out first. He could only hope that Deucalion would come to his senses, and soon.
Chapter 111
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
His mom's reaction at the sight of the twins trailing behind him was a mix of amusement and exasperation. Still, she didn't disappoint and soon the boys were on the receiving end of her rather insistent mothering, and judging by their faces, they were quite overwhelmed.
"Mom, let them breathe."
"I'm just being a good hostess," she said defensively while putting a plate with sweets in front of the twins.
"Sure you are," Scott rolled his eyes.
"They're really good, Mrs McCall," Ethan said shyly while nibbling on his cookie.
Scott felt a pang of sadness at the sight. It was quite easy to forget that the twins had had such a hard life, they were so easygoing most of the time. They probably didn't even know what mother's love felt like…
Unthinkingly, he ran his hand through Ethan's hair, same as he would do to Jackson or Liam when they were feeling down, and the boy looked at him surprised, his eyes wide and full of wonder.
"Um, Scott? I think it's you who is overwhelming them right now," Melissa commented wryly.
He blinked and took his hand away. "Sorry, Ethan. I'm usually quite affectionate with my pack and friends, but if I make you uncomfortable, just tell me to back off and I will, alright?"
The boy looked away. "It's okay, we're just not used to... all of this."
Before Scott could reply, the front door opened and Isaac walked in. He stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of the twins and grimaced slightly. "Really, Scott? Isn't it enough to see them at school, you had to bring them home with you?"
The twins looked as surprised to see Isaac, it seemed.
"You… live together?" Aiden asked, his brows furrowed as he turned to Scott. "I thought that he's your ex-boyfriend?"
"That, too. But he's also my adoptive brother," Scott explained. "So yeah, he lives with us."
"I sense a story behind that," Ethan commented, his eyes gleaming with curiosity.
Isaac flopped into the chair next to him and grabbed a cookie from the plate. "Half my childhood I was locked in a freezer and beaten by my dad into a pulp, then Scott came along and decided to do something about it, including organizing a rescue mission and adopting me to the family. Is the story interesting enough for you?" he asked sardonically, then bit into his cookie.
Ethan looked at him uncertainly. "Are you being serious?"
"Deadly serious," Isaac deadpanned. "So if you two plan to cause Scott any trouble-"
"We're not!" Ethan protested hotly, then added more quietly: "We're not, I swear."
"Good. Just be aware that he has lots of people who would go to hell and back for him, including me, so you better watch out."
Scott was really touched by Isaac's concern for him, he really was, but for a moment he was lost in the memory of another Isaac, the one from his first life. He remembered how the boy had become a werewolf to gain self-confidence and be able to stand up against his abusive father, and he couldn't help but think that if Isaac had received help before Derek found him, he wouldn't have ever become a werewolf.
The thought made him wonder how many people agree to the bite just because they feel like they have no other option?...
"And even if we were to cause trouble, what would you do, slap us on the wrist? You're not even a werewolf," Aiden sneered at Isaac.
"I'm dating a werewolf hunter's daughter, not to mention her dad is rather fond of Scott too. If you think that we're defenseless, think twice."
Before things could escalate even further, Melissa intervened. "Boys, no fights at the table, is that clear?"
A chorus of "Yes, ma'am" & "Sorry, mom" was apparently satisfying enough, so she nodded approvingly. "Aiden, Ethan, are you planning to stay the night?" she asked kindly.
The twins looked at each other for a moment. "If it's not too much trouble…"
"Of course not!" Melissa looked mildly offended at the suggestion.
"You two could sleep in my room if you don't mind sharing a bed," Scott offered, shaking himself out of his stupor.
"We don't mind," Aiden said decisively.
"Come on, then," Scott stood up and the twins followed him upstairs. The room was in a slight disarray, so he quickly grabbed some discarded t-shirts and chucked them into a drawer. "Sorry, I wasn't expecting any guests."
Aiden just shrugged, while Ethan said: "It's fine, we're not fussy."
"I'll get you fresh towels and toothbrushes," Scott offered and started to turn away, when Aiden suddenly grabbed his arm.
"Why are you doing this? What do you expect from us in return?"
"Aiden!" Ethan hissed.
"What? No one is this nice out of the goodness of their heart, he must want something," Aiden crossed his arms over his chest defensively.
"What do you think I might want from you?" Scott asked mildly.
"Our first Alpha wanted sex, while Deucalion expects absolute obedience, no matter what his orders are," Aiden said bluntly, then his shoulders sagged and he rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I just want to know where we stand with you, that's all. If you want something in return for your help, just tell us."
Scott had to refrain himself from hugging the boy, as he had a feeling that it might not be welcome, at least not until Aiden was sure that he could trust him.
"There's nothing I expect from you besides acting civil and not attacking anyone," he explained patiently, instead. "Look, I've got a wonderful family, pack and friends who mean the world to me. There's nothing I need from you or anyone else for that matter, because I'm exactly where I want to be."
He expected his words to alleviate Aiden's fears, but somehow the boy looked even more saddened and… rejected? But why would he feel-
Oh.
"Hey, just because I don't want anything from you, that doesn't mean I don't care for you, because I do," he said gently, then finally succumbed to the temptation and put an arm around Aiden's stiff shoulders, observing his reaction closely. For a moment the boy tensed, looking ready to flight, but then it was as if something broke in him, and he melted into the embrace, breathing shakily.
Scott pulled him closer, rubbing soothing circles on his back, then looked at Ethan who was observing them with longing and raw envy in his eyes. "Come here, Ethan," he murmured, raising his free arm invitingly. After a second his arms were full of two troubled boys and he held them closely, trying to convey through his embrace how much he cared for them.
"Do you want us to leave Deucalion's pack?" Ethan asked in a small voice. "Because I don't think we could do that, we owe him so much-"
"I know, and there’s no need for that," Scott assured him. "Besides, despite how he acts, Deucalion cares for you too, he just doesn't often show it."
Aiden made a noise between a sniffle and a laugh. "More like never."
Scott sighed. Note to himself: encourage Deucalion to sometimes show some appreciation to his pack. "Look, he's a complicated man, but if he didn't care, you'd know it without any doubt."
"You're right, we know that. I just wish-" Aiden's words were interrupted by a phone beeping, and Scott released the boys from his embrace so that he could check who'd just texted him.
Speaking of... "It's Deucalion, he's asking if he and I could talk," Scott told the twins.
"Are you going to?" asked Ethan.
"Of course, why wouldn't I?" He was glad that Deucalion had texted him, it showed that he'd calmed down and was ready to talk, which he hoped was a good sign.
"Aren't you worried that he'll attack you again?" Ethan bit his lip in distress, so Scott ruffled his hair affectionately.
"Don't worry, I can take care of myself. Besides, Deucalion has already improved a lot compared to how he was when he came to Beacon Hills. I'll be fine."
He found them fresh towels and toothbrushes, then showed them where the bathroom was. Once he was sure that they'd be fine, he left them in his room and went downstairs.
"Mom, I'm going out," he called out.
She peered from the kitchen, surprised. "What, now? It's already dark outside and you've got school tomorrow morning."
"I know, but it's important. Earlier, Deucalion and I had a disagreement, and we need to talk about it, the sooner the better. I really don't want to leave this unresolved."
She frowned as she wiped her hands with the kitchen towel. "I don't trust that man. Are you sure that it's a good idea? Maybe call Peter or Derek, just in case-"
"Mom, I'll be fine, I swear. I'll be home late, so don't wait for me. I'll sleep on the sofa so that I don't wake anyone up in the middle of the night. Love you," he kissed her cheek and left, trying to conceal the bounce in his step. Even despite their argument, he couldn't help feeling giddy and excited at the thought of seeing his lover again.
On the way to Deucalion's flat he kept replaying their talk in his mind, and couldn't help but think that he should've handled that better. He definitely should've been more open and forthcoming with all the details right from the very start, rather than just give Deucalion bits of information and hope that the man would just accept it and not press further.
The question was: why had he acted that way? Why didn't he want Deucalion to know more than absolute basics about what was happening in his life? This made no sense, he wanted to be with the man for real, there were very few things he desired as strongly. So why was he so secretive about himself?...
He swallowed thickly when he realized that he was simply… afraid. Afraid that - once Deucalion learned everything about him - the man would change his mind and wouldn't want to be with him anymore. He should've known better than to build a relationship on secrets, though. He really needed to come clean to Deucalion, and as today's argument proved without any doubt, he needed to do that sooner rather than later.
When he knocked on the door to the Alpha Pack's apartment, he was already a bundle of nerves, feeling anxious and excited all at once.
"Scott, I can't tell you how sorry I am-"
Hearing sorrow and regret in Deucalion's voice made his heart clench, and he felt awful knowing that inadvertently he had caused his lover to feel that way. Wishing to somehow make it better, he closed the door behind him and pulled the man into a soft kiss.
Deucalion sucked a breath in surprise, freezing for a moment, before returning the kiss with a fervor that bordered on desperation. When they finally parted, they pressed their foreheads and breathed together, trying to calm their racing hearts.
"I'm not without blame, either," Scott admitted quietly, finally breaking the silence.
"You did nothing wrong," Deucalion started to protest, but Scott interrupted him gently but firmly.
"Yes, I did. I've kept you at arms length, and at the same time expected you not to push my buttons. But how would you even know what they are, when you don't know so many things about me?"
"You warned me before that you have secrets and I've accepted that," Deucalion reminded him softly.
Scott shook his head. "The point is, you shouldn't have to. Me hiding things from you, it's impairing our relationship, and I'm sorry that I didn't realize it sooner."
"It's alright, I don't want to force you to reveal anything you're not ready to share with me."
"Actually, I think I'm getting there. But first, I'd like you to meet my pack and friends, see for yourself what kind of people they are. I'll tell you everything about me then," Scott promised.
Deucalion's shoulders relaxed at his words. "Thank you, I admit that I've wondered if I'll get the chance to meet your pack properly. But still, I apologize for attacking you earlier. I reacted poorly when I should've given you a chance to explain why that hunter means so much to you. I'm sorry."
"Apology accepted," he said with a small smile, then circled Deucalion's waist with his arms and pressed his face to the man's chest, inhaling his scent deeply. "I hate fighting with you, you know. Let's try to do that as rarely as possible, alright?"
"Agreed," Deucalion murmured, kissing his temple softly. "I hate fighting with you, too. I was afraid that once you realize that I'm far from perfect... you'll regret being with me."
Scott's heart clenched at the quiet admission. He looked at his lover and cupped his face with his palms, caressing the smooth skin with his thumbs.
"I had my doubts," he admitted honestly, then seeing the crestfallen expression on Deucalion's face, he added: "But I'm not perfect either, so I can't expect you to be. Besides, we're still getting to know each other, so it's alright if there are some bumps along the way."
Deucalion chuckled. "Considering that we're both quite strong headed, I'd say that's a given."
Scott nodded in agreement, then buried his face in the crook of the man's neck, for a long moment simply basking in his presence. "We still need to have a talk about how throwing everyone out of the apartment is not the best way to facilitate trust in the pack, but let's leave that for later. For now, I just want to be close to you."
He didn't protest when Deucalion pulled him into his room and onto the bed. When he felt the man's palms sliding under his t-shirt, he gasped softly, and the hands stilled.
"Do you want me to stop?" Deucalion asked tentatively.
Scott looked at him, and gods, but the man was breathtaking. The soft light of the bedside lamp made his face look gentler and younger, smoothing all the wrinkles and expression lines. He always considered Deucalion handsome, but before they'd gotten together it was the kind of an observation he could make about Chris or Peter as well, with no sexual attraction attached to it. Now, though... The feel of Deucalion's hands on his body was enough to make him hard.
"No, don't stop," he breathed deeply. "I want you so much..." He felt the shudder that went through Deucalion's body at his words and heard how the man's breath hitched, the air getting thick with the scent of their arousal.
"Please, tell me how far I can go," Deucalion pleaded. "I don't want to do anything you're not ready for."
In response, Scott kissed him deeply while at the same time rubbing the man's crotch through his trousers, making him moan. "I may be young, but I'm not clueless or innocent, I know exactly what I want. And right now that's tasting each part of you," he said, then flipped them so that his lover was underneath him. "So tell me, how far can I go?" he asked huskily, placing a trail of wet kisses on Deucalion's neck. With his mouth pressed into the man's throat, he could actually feel him swallowing thickly.
"You can- ahh, anything you want," Deucalion's voice sounded wrecked, and for the first time ever he seemed to have problems with forming a coherent sentence.
"Anything?" Scott nibbled playfully on his earlobe. "Then let me show you just how talented I am with my mouth, I promise that you won't regret it."
That night he proved without any doubts that yes, he knew exactly what he was doing, and that he could make Deucalion come using his mouth only... He certainly wasn't complaining when the man returned the favor.
Notes:
So, we're done with the first fight and first make-up sex! Somehow, it all fit together (at least in my wicked mind). Sorry not sorry!
Chapter 112
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Deucalion sighed with pleasure as Scott kissed his chest softly, the teen's fingertips making small circles on his torso. They were lying leisurely on the bed enjoying their afterglow, their bodies still damp with sweat. Not that he was complaining, as their joint scents caused the wolf inside him to purr with satisfaction. After their disastrous meeting he'd been so sure that he'd managed to mess things up with Scott, and could only be thankful that it wasn't the case. That the teen still felt comfortable enough to be intimate with him was nothing short of miraculous.
If he was being honest with himself, he had been nervous, at first. While he was no stranger to sex, the last couple of years weren't exactly rich with opportunities to hookup with men, so he'd been afraid that he'd become a little rusty and wouldn't be able to meet Scott's expectations. Not to mention, he didn't want to overwhelm the teen or force him to anything he didn't want or wasn't yet ready for. Apparently, he needn't have worried, as his lover had taken the initiative in bed with surprising skill and confidence, considering his young age.
"I'd never thought that you’d be like this..." he murmured, kissing the teen's forehead.
Scott looked up, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "What, you mean bold? Shameless? Absolutely fantastic in bed?"
The last one made him chuckle but he nodded as it was all true.
"Well, I hope that I didn't offend your delicate sensibilities," Scott teased him gently and poked a finger into his side. "I blame it on you, though, you're irresistible. Tasting good, too."
Deucalion felt his cheeks getting hot and he knew immediately that he was blushing. Which was ridiculous, he was way too old to become flustered by a bit of sexual innuendo…
"You're a minx," he muttered under his breath, cursing his pale complexion.
"Oh, totally. But I'm your minx, so that's got to be a positive thing?" Scott asked hopefully.
He stifled a laugh, then became serious as a sudden thought came to his mind. The only way for Scott to become that skilled at sex was through experience, and since the teen was only sixteen, that could mean that either he'd started very young, or... changed partners freequently.
He frowned when he realized that he'd fallen fast and deep into their relationship without asking some important questions first. Was it a good time to ask them now, though? Is there even such a thing as the right moment to have this kind of a conversation?
"Hey, what's wrong?" Scott asked quietly, sensing the sudden mood change.
"Are we exclusive? I'd like us to be, but if you-" his voice broke a bit, so he cleared his throat, feeling strangely exposed and vulnerable.
He'd like to be generous enough to say that he would accept whatever Scott desired, but he didn't think he could ever be alright with his lover dating other people, not truly. But what if that's what Scott wanted? What if-
"I'm all for being exclusive," the teen said softly, then placed another featherlight kiss on his chest. "I know for a fact that I can be in love with only one person at a time, so... I'm yours, for as long as we want to be together."
He exhaled slowly and felt his shoulders relaxing. "I'm yours, too."
"Good," Scott murmured, tightening his hold on him possessively. Deucalion certainly didn't mind.
***
Being thrown out of their apartment was jarring, and Kali couldn't decide if she was feeling hurt, angry or offended. Probably all at once, really.
Where did Deucalion think she would go, anyway? She'd always kept close to the pack, she went where she was told to, that's how the things were. She didn't know how to be on her own, but ever since that McCall kid had injured Duke, she felt her ties to the pack weakening to the point that she would be afraid of becoming an Omega if it wasn't for her Alpha status.
Why did she always let men dictate her life, anyway? Duke and Ennis, she'd always listened to them and did what they wanted from her, be it murder or - in Ennis' case - sex. She enjoyed doing both, sure, but did that mean that she couldn't make her own choices?
Feeling restless, she walked aimlessly around the town, and when some drunken idiot accosted her and tried to grope her, she kicked him so hard where it hurt the most that the poor bastard could probably forget about ever becoming a father. She felt slightly better after that, figuring out that she'd probably done the world a service by making sure that such an excuse of a human being couldn't reproduce… Still, the incident made her realize that she'd had enough of people, men especially, for one evening.
So, rather than strolling the streets, she let her feet lead her to the woods. Once there, she breathed deeply, letting the fresh scent of moss and fallen leaves calm her a little. After a couple of minutes of leisurely walk she caught a scent of another Alpha werewolf and she felt her hackles rising, even though it was days old. For a moment she tried to recall when she had smelled it first, then she remembered the confrontation with the McCall boy and how he'd been joined by Derek and Peter Hale.
The Hales, huh? It must have been one of them who left the trace, then. Curiosity getting the better of her, she followed the scent and it led her to a wreck of a house which, for all intents and purposes, looked completely abandoned. Carefully, she opened the door and winced when it creaked loudly. She stilled, listening to the sounds around her, but beside a couple of weak heartbeats that probably belonged to some small animals like mice or rats, she couldn't detect anyone’s presence in the nearest vicinity.
She looked around curiously and realized that for all the ruin-like look, there was still some furniture inside the house, including an old couch which looked in quite a good shape, if someone wasn't squeamish about dust and occasional cobwebs. She sat on the couch gingerly, and when it didn't fall apart under her weight, she allowed herself to relax slightly. This wasn't so bad, she thought to herself. She had a roof above her head and a place to sleep, not to mention, she was blissfully alone.
She curled on the couch and let her thoughts wonder, not thinking about anything specific. When was the last time she had a chance to listen to her own heartbeat and simply be?... Too long ago, she realized.
Maybe being thrown out of the pack's apartment wasn't such a bad thing, after all.
***
Scott blinked sleepily and realized that he must have dozed off for a moment. He stifled a yawn and thought with regret that he really needed to get back home before his mom realized that he was still out. He started to sit up, when Deucalion's arm circled his waist and pulled him back into the man's embrace.
"Stay?"
"I wish I could," Scott murmured. "I have school in the morning, not to mention the twins are staying at my place, I don't want them to feel awkward when they realize I left them with my mom and Isaac."
Deucalion appeared thoughtful for a moment. "Or you could stay for the night and we could wake up early, before anyone at your place is up," he suggested hopefully.
"You just want to snuggle a little longer, admit it," Scott said with a quiet laugh.
"Guilty as charged," Deucalion raised his hands in surrender. "Is that a bad thing, though?"
"Not at all." Scott leaned in for another kiss, then another… "Alright, I'll stay, but we better set the alarm, I really need to wake up early."
One would've thought that being a True Alpha meant that he had the willpower to resist any temptation, but apparently that was not the case.
***
A loud creak woke Kali up and she had only a split second to gather her bearings before she was grabbed and thrown out of the couch. She didn't get the chance to react, though, as her arms were twisted forcefully behind her back and a heavy body pressed her into the floor.
"What are you doing here?" a male voice grunted into her ear. Uh, so this was the grumpy one, Derek.
"Sleeping," she snapped. "What did it look like to you, idiot?"
Not the brightest one of the bunch, that one.
"Why were you sleeping in my family house? This is a private property."
"Looked more like an abandoned property to me," she sneered then hissed as her arms were twisted even harder. "Deucalion got into a row with your Alpha, then threw everyone out of the apartment in a fit. I just wanted to find a place to sleep, alright? Are you satisfied now?"
She held her breath for a moment, then exhaled in relief as the grip on her arms loosened and the weight pressing her into the floor disappeared as the other werewolf got up. She got up as well, dusting herself off with a grimace.
"You surely know how to treat a woman," she jibed, but the man levelled her with an unimpressed stare. "Anyway, what are you doing here? Don't you have a better place to be?"
Derek shrugged. "Full moon's just in two days and I got restless, wanted to clear my head… in solitude," he added with a scowl.
"Sorry to ruin your plans," she commented with a smirk, not sounding even remotely sorry. "Can’t you be antsy somewhere else? I'd like to get back to sleep, you know."
He looked at her as if she lost her mind. "You do realize that's my house?"
"I got here first," she crossed her arms over her chest stubbornly. It was already late and the last thing she wanted was to go and search for another place to crash.
The man threw his arms up. "Fine, stay here, see if I care. Hope some rat will bite your nails off," he snapped, then left the house in a huff.
Kali grinned to herself. She hadn't lost her touch, it seemed.
Notes:
That's the first time I actually started to like Kali ;)
Chapter Text
Scott opened the door as quietly as possible, then took a step inside, trying not to make a sound-
"Where have you been?" He heard his mom's trembling voice. She stood in the hallway, hugging herself with her arms. "Do you know how I felt when I woke up early and you weren't home? I was worried sick that this monster attacked you again and you'd come home hurt, or not come back at all-"
"Mom, I'm okay, I told you that I'll be fine," he said softly, trying to calm her down. "I knew that Deucalion wouldn't do anything like that. And please, don't call him a monster, we've been over this."
She pressed her lips tightly. "What if you're wrong? I know that you always try to see the best in everyone, but people don't just change overnight. Besides, what took you so long? Why haven't you gotten home sooner?"
He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. He was so tired of keeping secrets, of always having to watch what he was doing and saying. Not to mention, for all his secretiveness he had always tried to avoid telling a flat out lie, especially to the people he loved. He so didn't want to start lying now.
"I wanted to spend some time with Deucalion," he finally said.
"But... why?" she asked incredulously.
"Because I like his company. He's... smart, and easy to talk to, and funny when he wants to be-" He knew that he sounded hopelessly smitten, but he couldn't help himself. He truly felt that way and didn't want to pretend, not anymore.
"Scott, please don't tell me that you-" Melissa looked at him aghast.
"I like him, mom."
Her initial disbelief slowly morphed into a growing horror. "No, no, no, no," she murmured repeatedly. "Please tell me that you don't mean it like that."
"Do you want me to lie to you?" he asked frankly and this finally managed to get his point across, as Melissa blanched.
"But, what about Jackson?"
"I don't understand, what does Jackson have to do with this?" It was his turn to be confused.
"I thought that you two were dating-"
"We're not, and we never have. After Isaac, I've only been interested in Deucalion. So please, please, don't spoil it for me," he begged quietly.
"I can't listen to this." Melissa turned around and went to her bedroom, closing the door behind her, not quite slamming them but close enough that Scott knew at once that it wasn't a good moment to talk to her.
He sighed heavily, then heard a soft gasp and looked up only to see that Isaac was standing on the stairs.
"I guess that you overheard everything," he cleared his throat awkwardly. "I'm sorry that I haven't told you earlier, very few people know that Deucalion and I are seeing each other."
"He's not too bad looking, I guess, but isn't he like, ancient?" Isaac wrinkled his nose in distaste.
"He's in his forties, so that's hardly ancient," Scott reasoned. "Besides, I actually like that he's, you know, experienced-"
"Ewww," the boy grimaced. "I really didn't need to know that."
Scott smiled weakly, then asked hesitantly: "Does it change anything between us?"
"Of course not, why would you think that?" Isaac shook his head, then added with a smirk: "Though I might start acting hurt and disappointed just so I can graciously let you make it up to me by making waffles for breakfast."
Scott gathered him into a quick but heartfelt hug. "Waffles it is, then," he said with a smile.
***
He expected the breakfast to be a tense affair, but surprisingly it wasn't. It certainly helped that Isaac was acting all supportive, and even tried a couple of times to engage the twins in the conversation, making the boys stare at him in confusion.
"Did you hit yourself on the head?" Aiden asked sceptically.
"No, I was just trying to be friendly," Isaac rolled his eyes. "But I see that it's lost on you, so…"
"It's not," Ethan protested.
Isaac nodded with satisfaction. "Good. Considering that being caustic comes much easier to me than acting nice, I'd hate it if my efforts went unappreciated."
Scott stifled a laugh and pretended to cough, instead.
"What, it's true," Isaac said defensively. "The only person who gives me a run for my money when it comes to biting comments is Stiles."
Scott grinned. He was happy to see Isaac and the twins getting along, in their unique way at least. The only thing that bothered him was that his mom still hadn't left her room yet, meaning she was still upset with him. He hoped that sooner or later she'd come around. Not to mention, now that she knew about Deucalion, he had to tell everyone else, Peter especially, who definitely won't be thrilled once it's clear that Derek had known before him…
And on top of that, he had a couple of things to do before Calaveras arrived in Beacon Hills. Time was not on his side, lately.
***
In the afternoon he decided to ditch lacrosse practice, and that's because he wanted to catch Liam after classes before the boy went home. He sent a short message asking if Liam was okay with that, and received an enthusiastic "Yesss!!!"
While waiting for the boy in front of the main entrance of the boy's school, he focused on his senses, trying to locate Lori and Brett. He hoped that once the young Betas caught his scent, their curiosity won't let them to simply walk away. He waited maybe five minutes before he saw them walking out of the school, their shoulders slightly tense, but their eyes gleaming with interest.
Poor kids, it seemed that Satomi kept them quite isolated when it came to meeting werewolves from other packs. He hoped that once he got the chance to talk with her, he would be able to convince her to let their packs mingle from time to time.
"Hi Lori, Brett," he said with an easygoing smile, keeping his body language relaxed and unthreatening.
"Hello Alpha McCall," Brett greeted him officially, keeping his eyes down, while Lori attempted to do something that resembled a mix between a curtsy and a bow, then blushed deeply as she realized that she didn't exactly manage to do either.
"Hey, no need to get so formal with me. Call me Scott, please," he offered. "It's been a while since we last met, how have you been?"
"Um, good, sir, I mean Scott," Lori stammered.
Before things could get even more awkward, Liam jogged to them.
"Hi Scott," the boy chirped happily.
"What, no hug for me? I'm disappointed," he said with an exaggerated pout, then grinned when Liam threw his arms around him, and he happily hugged the boy back. "I've missed you, pup."
Liam immediately took a step back, grimacing. "Scott, don't call me that when others can hear...!"
Scott patted him on the arm. "Don't worry, Lori and Brett are werewolves in Satomi Ito's pack, I'm sure they understand why I picked 'pup' as your nickname."
"But- Liam's not a werewolf, we would be able to sense that," Lori commented, watching them curiously.
"He's too young still, not to mention I still need to work on getting his parent's approval for giving him the bite," Scott explained, then added: "But yes, if everything goes as planned, Liam's going to be my Beta."
Hearing that, Liam straightened at once, his chest puffed up proudly. "I'm going to be the best Beta ever!" he braged.
"We'll see about that," Scott ruffled the boy's hair playfully, then turned to Brett and Lori. "Actually, I'm glad that we ran into each other, would you mind delivering a message from me to your Alpha?"
The both of them immediately stiffened.
"What kind of message?" Brett asked cautiously.
"It's more of a warning, a Mexican clan of werewolf hunters is going to arrive in Beacon Hills next week, so I'd suggest keeping a low profile and generally avoiding any trouble for the time being."
The two Betas exchanged an intrigued look, which Scott recognized immediately. "I hope that you don't plan on taking a look at the hunters or anything equally reckless," he cautioned them. "Kids, the Calaveras are the real deal, their methods of dealing with werewolves usually involve loaded guns and electrocution. Please promise me that you'll be careful, alright?"
Lori gulped, while Brett nodded seriously. "We will, thanks for heads up."
"Good. If something happens and Satomi is unavailable, feel free to call me." He took out a notebook and pen from his backpack, scribbled his number, then tore off the piece of paper and gave it to Brett. The young werewolf looked at it as if he couldn't decide if the paper was going to bite him, or if it was some kind of treasure.
"But why? We're not part of your pack."
"You're werewolves like me, and we need to stick together," Scott said with a shrug. "If you don't want it, that's fine, just throw it away."
The way Brett's palm tightened around the paper showed without any doubt that he wasn't going to do that.
"Um, we need to go," Lori said, biting her lower lip and shooting her brother uncertain looks.
Scott nodded and said goodbye to them. Once the siblings were outside of the hearing range, he turned to Liam who was strangely silent during their conversation. "Are you having second thoughts about becoming a werewolf?" he asked gently. "It's alright if you'll decide not to go with it."
That seemed to shock the boy out of his stupor. "What? No, I want it! It's just that- are you going to be in danger, because of these hunters?"
"Probably. Don't worry about me, though, I can take care of myself," he tried to ease the boy's mind.
"I know that. Just, be careful, please? I- I don't want to lose you," Liam muttered, looking down at his feet and avoiding Scott's eyes.
That just won't do, thought Scott, then swung an arm around the boy's shoulders. "Look, kiddo, I'm not getting myself killed due to one very important reason, and that's because I have people to live for, including you."
When Liam blushed and hugged him around the waist, Scott hugged him back just as tightly.
Chapter 114
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Living in Satomi’s pack felt less like having a family, and more like being a part of a large clan. With more than three dozen other pack members vying for Satomi’s attention, it was quite easy to feel left on the sidelines. Not to mention, with such a large pack built in the span of several decades, the division between the older werewolves like Demarco and the younger generation was quite distinct, sometimes making Brett feel like he didn’t truly belong.
He tried to tell himself that it was stupid, that he should be grateful for being a part of any pack at all, and that his Alpha wasn’t brutal or violent. He knew that many werewolves weren’t that lucky, and in some cases relationships within a pack were cold at best and abusive at worst. Being a part of Satomi’s pack should feel like a godsend, considering the alternative, and yet… He couldn’t help thinking that there’s got to be more to pack than this.
He kept replaying the meeting with Scott McCall in his head, over and over again. The way the young Alpha doted on Liam was a painful reminder that in Satomi’s case, Brett and Lori were just two kids out of thirty werewolves or so that she needed to look after. Sure, she'd taken them in after their parents died in a fire, but she was only one woman, and her attention had been divided too much to fully focus on raising them. She did try more with Lori, he had to acknowledge that, she'd even taught her Japanese, but Brett… He'd mostly raised himself, and for years he'd been fooling himself that he was alright with that, he didn't need anyone else, thank you very much.
Would it be different if they had been taken in by another Alpha instead, someone with a smaller pack and because of that having more time for them? He shook himself, thinking about it was not helping at all, he needed to get his shit together and focus, not lose time on thinking about what ifs. Still, the loose piece of paper felt as if it was burning his palm each time he reached into his pocket.
***
“Scott McCall spoke with you?” Satomi asked, surprised. “What for?”
“To deliver a message, some Mexican hunters are going to be in Beacon Hills for a couple of days. He asked us to keep a low profile and stay out of trouble,” Brett explained.
Satomi raised an eyebrow. “Mexican, you say? Did he say which family?”
“Um, he mentioned Ca- Calaveras?” Lori stuttered a bit, trying to recall the name.
“That’s no good,” the ancient Alpha frowned. “But still, why would he warn you? We’re not allies and his pack has no ties to ours.”
“He said that we werewolves should stick together. He even gave Brett his phone number and offered help if we ever needed it,” Lori prattled.
He wished she didn’t, though, for some reason he hoped to keep Scott’s offer a secret even though he wasn’t exactly sure why. It’s not like he wanted to betray Satomi, right? But everything in their pack was always common property, even knowledge, and for once he wanted to have something exclusively for himself. It appeared that he wasn’t going to get it, though.
“Did he?” Satomi rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “Give me that number, please. If anyone’s going to negotiate with another Alpha, it’s me. He should’ve known better than to approach my Betas, but I guess he's still young, he doesn’t know yet how these things work.”
She said ‘please’ but it didn’t sound like a request, more like an order, and Brett slowly took the piece of paper out of his pocket and gave it to Satomi, trying to hide his reluctance in doing so.
He could have told her that Scott had seemed like he knew exactly what he was doing, and that the young Alpha hadn’t made an impression of being inexperienced, quite the contrary, but he bit his tongue and didn’t say anything. If he couldn’t have Scott’s number, then at least he’ll keep his impressions to himself.
Once they left Satomi’s office, Lori murmured: “Sorry about that, but Satomi is right, it’s not our place to talk with another Alpha.”
Why did she have to make it sound as if Alphas were some kind of unapproachable beings, too high-class and totally out of their league? He loved Lori, he really did, but sometimes she was too eager to please Satomi, and never seemed to doubt the woman. He wasn't sure if that was due to the fact that Lori felt indebted to their guardian, or if it was just in her nature not to question a person in authority, but no matter the reason, his sister just wouldn't understand why he was feeling rebellious all of a sudden.
He wondered if he could get Liam to give him Scott’s number again. He could always claim to have lost it… And it wouldn’t even be a total lie.
***
It was Malia's first full moon after being rescued from the woods and Scott wouldn't miss it for anything. He briefly wondered where they could take the girl, since Peter's apartment was in no way appropriate to have her safely contained, when he remembered the abandoned subway station where in his first life Derek had trained Isaac, Erica and Boyd in controlling their transformations.
The thought made him remember that in this timeline, even though Derek had been an Alpha for several months now, he hadn't yet made any move to form his own pack, even though at first he'd seemed strongly determined to do just that. He made a mental note to himself to talk to Derek about it soon, maybe once the Calaveras left the town.
Following Scott's directions, Peter drove them to the station. Malia was tense and twitching nervously on her seat, so the man tried to engage her in the conversation and asked her how she was feeling.
"I get this… itching under my skin, and it's slowly getting worse," Malia complained.
"Full moon is starting to affect you," Peter explained patiently. "You know, each pack has its own mantra, a series of words which repeated continuously for a period of time helps werewolves to alleviate the effects of a full moon."
"Like a rhyme or something?" she asked sceptically.
"Close enough. My family's mantra is 'Alpha, Beta, Omega', reminding us that the roles within a pack can always change and evolve."
"Did it help you?" Malia looked at him curiously.
"When I was younger, yes. I wanted to become an Alpha more than anything and focusing on that desire helped me to master my transformations."
"And now that you're already an Alpha?"
A small smile appeared on Peter's face. "Now I have Scott as my anchor."
The girl raised her eyebrow. "That sounds like you're really close... Are you two having sex or what?"
Peter coughed, taken off guard, while Scott shook his head. "Nope, I don't think about Peter that way, not to mention he's dating my mom."
"Quite right," Peter murmured under his breath. "Melissa would kill me with her bare hands if I so much as looked at Scott the wrong way."
Scott chuckled quietly, but judging by the unamused look on Peter's face, the man was being quite serious.
Once they reached their destination, he led them to the entrance, partially covered by bushes and wild grass. He went inside first, while Malia and Peter followed him closely. They got comfortable and chatted a little bit more, and before they knew it the moon was high in the sky, rousing the predators inside them.
Being the most inexperienced and unused to resisting full moon, Malia succumbed almost immediately. She morphed into her coyote form and growled at them warningly, but Peter transformed a second after, his huge black silhouette towering above her. Rather than back down as she'd done in the woods, this time she jumped to Peter's neck with bared fangs, the full moon making her reckless and out of control. The black wolf's paw striked her across her muzzle and she went flying a few feet in the air. Peter made a huge leap and was by her side in a split second. Before she had a chance to stand up, he bit her on the base of her neck and held her like that until she finally stopped struggling and went limp in his jaws.
The moment Malia showed her submission to Peter, Scott gasped loudly as he felt his pack bond with Malia fading and losing strength until it was nothing more than a echo, a mere afterglow of what had once been a vibrant light. It wasn't as painful as when the link was broken due to his packmates' deaths, but still it wasn't pleasant, and for a moment he struggled to catch a breath before he was able to calm down.
Seeing that Malia was subdued at the moment, Peter transformed back into his human form and was at Scott's side in a second.
"I didn't do it on purpose, I swear-"
He just shook his head and pulled Peter into a tight hug. "You deserve to be Malia's Alpha," he rasped. "I knew that my bond with her was only temporary and that it was bound to happen sooner or later, so… congratulations."
Peter looked him in the eye almost desperately. "You're not angry with me?"
In response, Scott cupped his packmate's face in his hands. This open show of vulnerability and need for approval was a testament to how much Peter trusted him, and Scott marvelled at how far the two of them had come compared to the day when they'd met for the first time, in this life at least. Now, there was no sign of that violent, untrustful and bitter man, and he couldn't help but think that he loved Peter of this timeline even more than he'd once cared for Peter from his first life.
"Why would I be? I just want you to be happy," he said honestly, "it's all I've ever wanted for you. If forming a pack of your own is what you need, then I'm glad that Malia chose you. You deserve it."
Peter's breathing was still ragged so Scott held him until the beat of his heart evened out.
***
Later, they sat down on the floor with their backs propped against the cold wall, their arms brushing gently. Malia, still in her coyote form, put her head on Peter's thighs and the man petted her fur idly, scratching her behind the ears from time to time, making her purr contentedly.
They were silent for a long time, before Peter murmured: "I can feel Malia's link to me now. It's… incredible."
"It is, isn't it?" Scott smiled brightly. "Now you know why I feel so strongly about you and Derek. The pack bonds are precious and very few things can compare to them, like a bond between a parent and a child, or a lifelong love between spouses."
Peter cleared his throat. "About that... Melissa told me about you and Deucalion. She thought that I knew."
He instantly felt guilty. "I'm sorry, I was going to tell you, I swear, but the last few days were crazy busy, and I just didn't get a chance."
"It's alright, I understand," Peter said quietly. "At first I was hurt that you didn't trust me enough-"
"I do!" Scott protested hotly.
"Good. Because you're my Alpha and I'd never think to criticize your choice of a lover. Melissa asked me to talk some sense into you but I told her that it's not my place or anyone else's for that matter, to tell you how you should live your life. I also told her that you're an adult and can make your own choices, and the best that we could do is to support you."
He swallowed thickly, suddenly overwhelmed. "Thank you. I- I can't tell you how much this means to me."
In response, Peter took his hand and squeezed it comfortingly.
Notes:
I wanted to show Peter and Scott showing mutual support for each other and I hope that I managed to show that.
Next: the Calaveras arrive in Beacon Hills! Yup, it's finally happening! :)
Chapter Text
Scott spent the whole Sunday holed up in his room, writing furiously on his laptop.
He'd spent so much time rebuilding his pack that he nearly forgot what he was here for: to stop a war from happening. Or maybe he'd simply wanted to pretend, if for a short while, that there was nothing wrong going on, that werewolves weren’t targeted and hunted across the globe. He'd been telling himself that he deserved a respite in fighting this war, that he needed to catch his breath, to simply enjoy having a pack again before inevitably it was snatched away from his hands once more. But in truth, he'd been reckless by not taking any precautions to ensure that his knowledge of the future wasn't lost, even if he was killed.
This was the mistake he was now correcting. After nearly ten hours of writing down everything he knew, every smallest bit of what he remembered from his first life, he finally hit the button "print" and exhaled slowly while the old printer rattled, spitting out page after page.
Now, he was ready.
***
Chris was pacing nervously, waiting for the Calaveras to arrive. The day before he'd called Scott to ask him about his plan, but the young Alpha had been rather vague about the whole thing.
"I don't have one big master plan, I tried to consider several scenarios depending on how the Calaveras will act, what they'll say…" the teen had said. "Think of it like a game of chess, where the opponent has the opening move. They need to make it first before we can act."
While Chris could understand that approach, it did nothing to alleviate his fears.
"What should I do, then?" he had asked then.
"I doubt the Calaveras will let me speak, and even if they do, they certainly won't listen. So, be my voice instead, make sure that Victoria doesn't lie or try to pin the blame on me. I'll be nearby, waiting for your call if it appears that Araya is interested in my part of the story, after all."
Chris had agreed, promising that he wouldn't allow Victoria to distort the truth.
It was refreshing that for once his role wasn't to take up arms and fight, but to ensure that Scott was heard. He fully intended to keep that promise… even if he also hid a handgun underneath his jacket, just in case.
***
When the Calaveras finally arrived, he was unpleasantly reminded that as a hunter he was only a subordinate to the women who were in charge of the hunters clans. Victoria greeted Araya warmly, and for a moment the two of them chatted between themselves and ignored his presence altogether, so he cleared his throat quietly.
"Oh, Christopher, good to see you again," Araya said with a wide smile which might or might not be sincere, it was hard to guess with that woman. He'd seen her smiling that way, once, while pointing a gun at some poor werewolf's head, so he wasn't so naive to take it as a good sign.
Still, he didn't let any of these thoughts appear on his face as he invited her and her men in. Hearing the guests entering the house, Allison walked down the stairs.
"This must be your daughter, Allison. How's her training progressing so far?" Araya asked Victoria curiously, but the girl answered first.
"At the moment? Not at all," she said with a bright smile. "I'm waiting for the policy to change first, preferably including not hunting werewolves down if they didn't commit any crime."
"Allison!" Victoria gasped, outraged.
"What? It's true. I'm a firm believer that hunters should be acting more like protectors rather than oppressors as they are now. Wouldn't you agree, ma'am?" she asked Araya with faux innocence.
Araya and Victoria exchanged troubled looks.
"Now I understand what you tried to tell me earlier," Araya murmured, then turned to Allison. "I think you know nothing of the world, but you're still young, so that can be forgiven. Maybe it'd be better if you left and let the adults talk."
Chris frowned, it sounded as if Victoria was in regular contact with Araya. If his wife had already tried to influence Araya's judgement, that didn't bode well. Still, when Allison looked at him with a rebellious glint in her eyes, he shook his head.
"Araya's right, go to your room and let me handle this, alright?"
For a moment Allison looked as if she wanted to protest, but then she suddenly changed her mind and went upstairs, quietly closing the door behind her.
"I'll call Scott and ask him to come, he deserves the chance to tell his side of what happened," he suggested but Araya shook her head.
"I don't care what that wolf has to say, I only want to hear you and Victoria out."
It seemed that Scott's predictions were correct, then. Still, there was nothing to be done about it, at least at this point, so Chris conceded and recounted the events leading to the day when Victoria had tried to shoot Scott. Then his wife did the same, presenting her point of view.
"That boy’s dangerous and needs to be put down!" Victoria insisted once she was done.
"We don't kill wolf pups, not when they can be trained yet," Araya said patiently and Chris exhaled in relief. It wasn't much, but it was a start. "You shouldn't have tried to kill that boy, Victoria. Give him a scare, maybe. Show him what happens if he crosses the line. But we don't kill their young, we're not savages."
"But- He seduced Chris!" Victoria protested. "He already crossed the line!"
Chris suppressed an urge to groan, this was getting ridiculous. "You're delusional," he huffed. "I told you already, there's nothing sexual going on between Scott and I."
"Don't lie to me, I saw you two holding hands," Victoria said accusatoringly.
"Scott is my friend, not lover, for God's sake-," he shook his head with exasperation, then almost regretted his words as Araya looked at him sharply.
"You consider the wolf your friend?" she demanded.
He's much more than that, Chris thought to himself, but he didn't say it out loud and simply nodded wordlessly.
She tutted with displeasure. "Then it's not Victoria who should be judged, it's you. You forgot your purpose. You need to be... reminded."
Before Chris could react, he felt two goons grabbing his arms and twisting them forcibly behind his back. He cursed himself for letting his guard down, he knew that he shouldn't have trusted them, but the training that was ingrained in him told his body and mind that hunters were allies, not enemies.
He really needed to find a way to suppress these reactions, it seemed.
"What does the Code say? Say it," Araya demanded.
"No," Chris grunted painfully when one thug hit him in the stomach with his fist. He struggled in their grip, so they pushed him down to his knees.
"What are you doing? Araya, order your men off," Victoria hissed.
The woman ignored her and turned to him, instead.
"What does our Code say? Say it and save yourself the pain," Araya took a hooked knife out of her pocket.
Chris' body shook, not from fear but fury. "Not my code, I'm not a hunter, not anymore," he said coldly. "I'll never be a hunter again."
"Chris, what are you saying…?" Victoria said with disbelief.
"He's mine now," a familiar voice said, and Chris' head snapped up.
Upstairs, walking out of Allison's room, stood Scott, with Derek and Peter following him closely. All three had their claws out, their eyes glowing brightly with a blood-red light. Allison trailed after them, her eyes opening wide at the sight of Chris being forced to his knees.
Seeing them, the Calaveras pulled out their guns.
"Did you really think that I'll let you lay a hand on one of my men and get away with it?" asked Scott, his eyes never leaving Araya.
"The pup has claws, I see," she said patronizingly. "No matter, claws will never win with guns. Stand back, wolves, or you'll die."
Chris' muscles tensed. He could try to fight the Calaveras, maybe even take some of them down, but he wasn't fooling himself that he could do it quickly enough that they wouldn't have the chance to take a shot. One way or another, someone's bound to get hurt.
He looked up at Scott, wondering if the Alpha had an ace up his sleeve… and the teen's next words proved without any doubts that he did.
"Tijuana, Calle San Pedro Martir," said Scott, looking challengingly at Araya. "Does this address mean anything to you?" When she blanched, he nodded. "That's right, I know where your family lives. I know everything about you, the names, addresses, everything."
"Christopher told you," Araya said accusatoringly, shooting Chris dirty look.
Scott shook his head. "He didn't have to. Besides, I know things about you that even he doesn’t know. Did your daughter Úrsula tell you about her pregnancy yet?"
Araya tensed. "You're way off the mark, wolf."
"So she didn't. Still, you're going to be a grandma in a couple of months. Go on, call and ask her. I'm happy to wait," Scott sat lazily on the stairs.
Araya hesitated, then barked an order to her goons: "Watch them." She took out her phone and picked a number. A female voice replied and for a moment they conversed in Spanish, Araya's face turning paler and paler with each sentence. Finally, she disconnected, and when she looked at Scott, there was a flicker of uncertainty there. "She saw the doctor last week, no one but her and her husband knew about it. How...?"
"I have eyes and ears everywhere, so be aware that if you threaten my people, I'll threaten yours," Scott stood up and straightened. "If you think that it's only Victoria who's on trial, you're wrong. I wanted to meet you to tell you this: you are to stop catching and torturing werewolves, and yes, I know about the basement where you torture them. I don't care for your Code, or how you justify your actions, but this ends now."
"What do you care about other werewolves, they're not your pack," Araya said dismissively.
"I know how you like to break them and make them bleed. Someone needs to speak up for them, and if there's no one else, then I'll do it."
The teen was standing tall, unafraid, and for a moment Chris thought that he saw his eyes changing color from red to deep purple, but when Scott blinked it was gone, and he couldn't be sure if he didn't just imagine it.
"And if I don't agree?" Araya asked darkly.
"Should you continue to torture and kill werewolves without provocation, I know where to strike to hurt you the most," Scott said quietly and these softly spoken words caused Chris to shiver, even if he wasn't the one on the receiving end of Scott's threat.
But it seemed that the Calaveras were either foolish, or they simply didn't know the danger even when it stared right at them, as Araya sneered dismissively: "Or I kill you now and the problem is solved."
"I'm not the only one with that knowledge. Kill me, and soon your whole family will be hunted down," Scott promised.
For a long moment, the two leaders watched each other carefully, a battle of wills like one Chris had never seen before.
"I don't like to be threatened," Araya said finally, but somehow it sounded like a concession.
"Neither do I," Scott said softly. "Truth be told, I don't want to fight with you, but you forced my hand when you attacked Chris, so I need to ask you to release him."
Araya reluctantly nodded at her men and Chris felt the bruising grip on his arms disappearing. He immediately got up and went to his pack, not looking back even once. He felt Peter's hand patting his back, while Derek simply nodded in acknowledgement. A moment later Allison put her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly.
"It's alright, sweetheart, I'm fine," he murmured, then kissed her brow gently. He wished he could shelter her just a little longer, but it was already too late for that.
"So this is how the Argents fall," Araya scoffed. "Aren't you ashamed of betraying your family's legacy, Christopher?"
"The only thing that I'm ashamed of is that I was a hunter," he said coldly. "I belong with the McCall pack now."
Things happened very quickly after that. He heard one of Araya's goons screaming "Traidor!" and then the bullets tore through the air. He pushed himself and Allison to the side but the bullets hit the railing and ricocheted in all directions. He didn't have the chance to react as he felt the force of the impact pushing Allison's body into his arms. He caught her instinctively, only to see two awful red stains growing larger and larger on her abdomen.
His beautiful baby girl was shot… and dying in his arms.
"No, no, no," he begged quietly. In the background he could hear Victoria's grieved wail and the Calaveras disarming the shooter but he ignored it all as he couldn't tear his eyes from Allison's pale face.
"Chris, lay her down, we don't have much time," Scott ordered urgently. "Peter, could you take some of her pain? We can't let her go into shock."
Chris listened immediately, gently lowering Allison to the floor. He watched numbly as Scott knelt beside her and put his claws into the wound, trying to find the bullet. Allison gasped weakly, but in that moment Peter touched her hand and black lines started to crawl up his arm as the man absorbed her pain.
It seemed like an eternity but was probably only a few moments before Scott managed to find and throw both bullets away. He quickly put his hands on the wounds, trying to stop the bleeding, then turned to Derek.
"I'll need to lend some of your strength for this. I could heal one, but not two-" Scott started to explain, but Derek interrupted him.
"It's fine, just tell me what I need to do," he said urgently.
"Put your hands on mine, and no matter what happens, don't let go," Scott instructed and Derek did as he was told. Scott added then: "Chris, watch our backs," and closed his eyes, focusing on healing Allison's wounds.
Looking away was one of the hardest things Chris has ever done, but he was given a task, and he wasn’t going to let Scott down. He pulled out his gun, turned his back to where his daughter was lying on the floor and faced the hunters instead.
Chapter Text
A small part of Peter was jealous that Scott chose Derek and not him to lend him strength, but he quickly squashed the thought before it put down roots. Each one of them had a role to play, and even though he wasn’t assisting with the actual healing process, his task was to comfort Allison and make sure that she was conscious while Scott and Derek were healing her wounds, so it had to count for something.
"Uncle Peter-" the girl gasped weakly. "Am I-"
"You're going to be alright, cutie," Peter murmured, trying not to draw her attention to the fact that she called him an uncle. Which, admittedly, felt quite good, more than making up for the pain he was still absorbing from her. "You know how Scott is, saving people is his specialty, so you're in good hands."
She smiled, which would have looked cute if it wasn't for the blood staining her teeth and lips. He wasn't squeamish about blood, though - how could he be, being a werewolf born and bred - so he just smiled back and curled his fingers tighter around her hand so that she knew he was right beside her.
***
There were a couple of lessons Victoria had been taught from a very young age: that werewolves were monsters and hunters' job was to make sure they didn't hurt innocent people. This was how she'd been raised and what she believed in, so seeing her only daughter being shot by a hunter was like a kick to the stomach. However, observing the werewolves she hated with a passion as they tried to save Allison's life… it felt like the earth suddenly shifted beneath her feet, leaving her stranded.
Was this what Chris had tried to tell her all along? Had she truly been too blinded by her hatred to see actual people in werewolves? She'd even tried to kill the McCall kid, only because she was jealous and blamed him for the recent changes in Chris' behaviour… As if that was a reason enough to commit murder.
She swallowed with difficulty. Up until now she hadn't thought of her attempt to kill Scott as murder, she had considered him an animal, a wild beast, but now... She finally realized how wrong that was, it was like a paradigm shift, so sudden and unexpected that it caused her head to spin. But it was not the time to have a crisis, she needed to be strong in order to protect her family.
She took a couple of steps towards the werewolves surrounding Allison, when Chris pointed his gun at her.
"Stop where you are or I'll shoot you," he said coldly, and it hurt so much to know that despite all the years that they'd spent together he considered her an enemy now.
"Allison is my daughter too," she reminded him. "I only want to make sure that she's alright."
"She's not alright, she was shot, twice," he growled. "The only reason she's not dead yet is that Scott and Derek are doing everything they can to heal her."
"I know," she tried to placate him.
"Then you should know to stay the fuck away, I don't want either of them to lose focus because I've let a hunter near them."
"Is this what I am to you, just a hunter?" she asked bitterly.
"Were you ever anything more than that?" His reply cut deep, straight to the heart. "I wouldn't be surprised if you tried to kill them as soon as Allison's healed."
"I wouldn't do that!" she protested.
"Wouldn't you? When Scott warned us about Matt stalking Allison, you thanked him by trapping and electrocuting him. Why should I believe that this time it's different?"
She closed her eyes for a moment. "Because if Scott heals Allison, we’ll owe him a life debt and there's nothing more serious than that," she said sincerely, putting all her conviction into her words.
Chris regarded her carefully before lowering his gun. "Alright, but the best thing that we can do is to let them work in peace."
She nodded and they stood side by side, watching and waiting.
***
When the healing began, Derek felt his strength being siphoned off from him through the link that he shared with Scott, and for the first time ever he felt their bond straining under the pressure. The process was draining, leaving him weak and gasping for breath, but he held on, knowing that Allison's life was at stake.
After some time (it could have been seconds, minutes or even hours, he couldn't tell) he felt blood dripping from his nose and leaving a metallic taste in his mouth. It was as if he was poisoned with Wolfsbane again, his senses were dulled and his own body felt almost foreign to him, as if it was slowly failing, shutting down, dying.
He wanted to beg Scott to stop, tell him that it was too much, he couldn't do this, he wasn't strong enough- But he forced himself to endure and keep his hands on Scott's. "No matter what happens, don't let go," his Alpha had asked of him, and Derek would be damned if he let him down.
Just as he felt something inside him breaking, Scott finally put his hands away from Allison's body and Derek exhaled shakily. He saw Peter helping Allison to stand up before his eyelids started to droop, fatigue setting in his bones like an invisible weight. He had a feeling as if he'd just lost something important, but he was too exhausted to tell what it was...
"Are you alright?" he heard Scott's concerned voice, and he opened his eyes tiredly.
" 'm fine," he mumbled, blinking slowly at the sight of Scott's bloodstained face as he realized that the teen's nose had bled too. The healing had put them both under severe strain and he hoped that Scott felt at least somewhat better than him.
"Derek, your eyes…" Scott choked out. "They're blue again."
Oh.
So that was what the earlier feeling of being torn apart was about, he was a Beta again. The fact should've shocked him, made him angry or at least sad, but for some reason he didn't feel any of it. There was only a sheer relief that the healing was successful and that he didn't fail Scott, because that would’ve been much more devastating to him than losing his Alpha spark.
It was just power, after all.
"Can I be your Beta again?" he asked hopefully.
In response, Scott hugged him tightly. "Always. You'll always be mine," the young Alpha sniffled into his shoulder, staining it with blood and tears, but Derek didn't mind.
***
Scott was exhausted, both in body, heart and mind. Playing mind games with Araya, seeing Allison being shot, healing her and then realizing that it had cost Derek his Alpha power, it had all taken its toll on him and he felt ready to snap. Still, he was happy that Allison was alright and he watched with relief as both her parents took turns in hugging her. At least he didn't have to worry about Victoria for the time being, so that was a start.
He turned to the Calaveras who were observing everything in silence and saw that the man who shot Allison was held tightly by two other goons.
"Are you proud of yourself that you nearly killed an innocent girl?" he spat bitterly. "If it wasn't for Derek giving up his Alpha power, she would be dead since I wouldn't have been able to heal her on my own."
The would-be killer sneered in response and opened his mouth to say something, but Araya shot him a warning look, then turned to Scott.
"It was an unfortunate accident and I apologize. But you have to admit that that werewolf of yours is a murderer, no one gets steel blue eyes without taking an innocent life."
Hearing her flippant words Scott instantly saw red. She talked about Allison getting shot as if it was inconsequential, but she didn't see anything wrong in judging Derek in the same sentence without knowing the circumstances leading to his eye color changing to blue when he was young.
"You're such a hypocrite," he hissed furiously. "You know nothing about Derek and what he went through. Too bad that human eyes don't glow or you would finally be able to see how many of your men are murderers."
His muscles tensed and he was ready to fight when he felt Derek’s hand touching his shoulders tentatively.
"You know that she's right, it was my fault Paige died-" the man’s eyes were tired, defeated.
Seeing that, Scott felt the bitterness at the injustice of it all rising within him like a tidal wave.
"It wasn't, you were fifteen and agreed to something you didn't know the consequences of. But ultimately, it was Ennis who bit Paige and was directly responsible for her death, you only spared her more pain."
"But I-" Derek started to protest weakly, but Scott didn’t let him.
"If Liam asked me to turn his friend and Mason's body rejected the bite, who would be held responsible, the teenager who made the request or the Alpha who should've known better?" he asked sharply.
Derek exhaled shakily. "The Alpha."
"You're not at fault, Derek. You never were," Scott added quietly but intently, feeling ready to burst with sadness and grief, and the world rippled around him as if responding to his words.
Derek's eyes dulled for a moment before their cold blue sheen was replaced with a brilliant yellow glow, shining like true gold.
Chapter 117
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Seeing Derek's eyes changing color the second time that day, it made Scott shiver. He didn't know it was even possible, to be absolved of guilt that darkened ones' soul, and he wasn't entirely sure if it was his words that had caused this or the fact that Derek had finally forgiven himself, or maybe the combination of both. Whatever it was, it proved without any doubt that the rules bounding the supernatural world were not set in stone, which was both comforting and terrifying. He was used to defying the odds, to always trying to stay ahead of the curve, but this… His actions, his words, they had consequences even he couldn't have predicted.
But it was not the time to dwell on that, he still had some hunters to deal with, after all.
He took a step in Araya's direction. "Are you ready to listen, now?"
"How did you…?" the woman asked, visibly taken aback. "First the healing, and now this… I've never heard of blue eyes changing back to yellow."
He tsk-tsked with reproach. "Your lot was always so focused on werewolves' animal nature that you've never really seen anything past that, haven't you? There is more to the supernatural world than what you were taught, you've just been too blinded by your hatred to see it."
"Still, one good act can't erase the transgressions of an entire race," she said stubbornly, crossing her arms over her chest. "Werewolves are killers by nature, that's what you are. It'll take more than that to convince me otherwise."
"Well, if that’s the case-," he thought to himself... and roared.
It was deafening, like multiple avalanches falling down the mountainside, like uncountable thunders shaking the ground. His packmates who were standing a couple of steps behind him fell to their knees for a moment, but the hunters who were the real target of the roar all fell down to the floor, some of them unconscious, some still moaning faintly and bleeding from their ears.
"Chris, Peter, disarm and tie them up," he ordered, kneeling beside Araya who apparently had lost consciousness, but considering her older age, that was to be expected.
"What are you going to do?" Victoria asked with apprehension once the hunters were taken care of. That she didn't even try to stop Peter and Chris was more telling than her words, though.
"I'm going to show Araya- what did she call them? Ah, 'the transgressions of an entire race', just not the one that she had in mind," he said grimly. "Do you have a basement here?"
***
When Araya regained her consciousness, she realized in an instant that she was tied down, so she started to thrash in her bonds.
"That's futile, Chris was quite thorough in making sure that you won't get away, not until I release you," she heard a young, amused voice.
Her head snapped up. It was that werewolf, the one who'd caused Christopher to change his loyalties, who seemed to know more than should be possible considering his young age, and who possessed skills previously unheard of. Scott McCall; not a name she will forget anytime soon.
She looked around, trying to locate the others, but she was alone in the room with the Alpha.
"So you've finally decided to show your true face," she spat out. "What did you do to my men?”
"They’re in the basement, knocked out but alive. I could have easily killed you and your men while you were unconscious, but I didn't. What does it tell you about me?"
"That you either want to torture us first, or there is something you want and you won't get it if we're dead," she reasoned. These were the most obvious and logical conclusions she could draw from the fact that she was still alive and relatively unharmed, not counting the killer headache.
"Why are you using your own methods as yardstick for judging everyone else?" the Alpha shook his head, looking disappointed. "I'm not going to torture you, but I am going to show you what it's like to be hunted for no apparent reason than just being a werewolf."
When he moved to stand directly behind her, for a moment she was afraid that he was going to bite her.
"You know that if you turn me into a werewolf, that's basically a death sentence?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady. "To me since I'll have to kill myself, and to you since other hunters will hunt you down in revenge."
"That's barbaric, to force anyone to commit suicide for something they had no control over... But don't worry, I'm not going to give you the bite, you're not exactly someone I'd want in my pack," he commented mildly.
She allowed herself to relax a bit when she felt something sharp piercing the back of her neck and for a split second she saw and felt only darkness, choking, crushing and grinding her sense of self. Then, the images began to appear right there in her mind so that she couldn't look away, she was forced to watch the awful scenes one after another... There was no escaping this.
What she saw was a slaughter, bodies covered with blood, twisted and mutilated to the point they were hardly recognizable, but she was able to catch a glimpse of fangs and claws here and there. She saw werewolves being murdered by all possible means: shot down, hacked into pieces, incinerated. She heard their screams, some cried and begged for mercy while some cursed hunters with their last breaths. They were men, women, even children, all races and ages, with only one thing in common: animalistic traits and unnaturally glowing eyes.
She wasn't a saint, she'd killed werewolves before in the line of duty, but this… this wasn't justice, it was manslaughter, and she felt sick to her stomach by just watching it. When she felt that she couldn't take it anymore, she was going to scream or cry or both, the images finally disappeared, and so did the pressure on her neck. She breathed deeply, trying to get herself under control.
The young Alpha took an empty chair and sat down in front of her, waiting for her to catch her breath.
"What was that?" she choked out, barely recognizing her own voice.
"A vision of the future, one that will happen unless the vicious circle of violence and hatred between hunters and werewolves is broken," his voice was quiet and sad, almost melancholic.
"What, are you a werewolf and a seer?" she asked dubiously, but she shivered at the thought that this… genocide could actually happen.
"Close enough, I guess," he nodded, to her surprise. "It doesn't need to happen, but considering the enmity between our people, we're heading straight in that direction."
She wanted to protest and say that everything hunters did was perfectly justified, but she recalled how her own men seemed more prone to violence the last few years, herself included. True, she was determined to use any means necessary to fulfil her duties, but now she had to wonder… was it all truly necessary? Was there no other way?
But then she reminded herself that she was bound and at the mercy of a creature that could overpower her without breaking a sweat.
"If peace is truly what you're after, release me at once," she demanded. "I won't talk with you while being held hostage."
He regarded her carefully, then stood up and used his claws to cut the ropes that were holding her in place. Since she was bound very tightly and there was almost no space between her skin and the ropes, his claws left several shallow gashes on her arms and legs. She didn't complain, the wounds were artificial and looked worse than they actually were, but she was surprised when the boy knelt beside her and put his hand on the cuts, causing them to warm up and heal instantly.
"Sorry about that," he muttered, moving to her left side and healing it as well.
She stared at him. No werewolf had ever apologized for causing harm to a hunter, they were natural enemies-
But- were they? Was this what he tried to show her, that she was so used to fighting werewolves that it actually affected her judgement, and not in a good way? She hated the implication that her mind and her decisions weren't her own, that she had fallen too deep into the habit of expecting the worst of werewolves.
She'd always prided herself of being resistant to manipulation, but what if it was her own experience that affected her judgement? How could she tell if the healing was an act of kindness, or a way to manipulate her and make her more malleable? Also, was she simply being reasonably cautious, or maybe her suspicions were driven by hate?
And most importantly: why couldn't she see the difference anymore?
"You're messing with my head," she accused the teen, and he chuckled.
"Hardly. It's called independent thinking, I'm glad that you've finally discovered it," he teased her.
She stared at him incredulously for a moment, before she snorted. "Do you know that you're the first werewolf ever to joke with me?"
"You should talk with Peter, then. He's way more entertaining than I could ever be," the young Alpha added with a gentle smile, and she couldn't help but think that he didn't sound like a beast at all. When he was done with the healing, he straightened up and sat up on his chair again.
"So, about the war," she started to rub her wrists and hands to improve the blood circulation in them after being tied so tightly. "Let's say I believe you, I still won't do anything to help your kind win it."
He instantly sobered. "I don't want to win the war, I want to stop it from happening in the first place."
"How can I even know that you're telling the truth?" she asked bluntly. "Why should I trust you?"
"Preventing the war needs to start somewhere," he said and sighed. "Look, today was the perfect example that when werewolves and hunters clash, innocent people are caught in the crossfire. I'm not only trying to save my people, I want to save everyone. Is that so hard to believe?"
She considered his words and admitted, even if it was only in the privacy of her own mind, that he had a point. It could still be an act designed to manipulate her, but that didn't change the fact that if it wasn't for him, Allison would be dead, and by the hunter's gun no less. It was a shaming realization and she certainly didn't want to let this happen ever again.
"Alright, what do you expect from me?" she asked, then added sternly: "Just so we're clear, I'm not saying 'yes' to anything yet, but I will hear you out."
"Fair enough," he nodded. "Thank you, I appreciate it.”
She hadn’t been thanked by a werewolf before either, and was genuinely surprised how good it felt.
Notes:
Next: the aftermath of the Calaveras' visit, and we'll finally get a glimpse of the long awaited and beloved by everyone Hellhound! :)
Chapter Text
Whatever Scott had told Araya it must have made quite an impact, since when they finally left Chris' office and rejoined the rest of the group, Araya was deathly pale and her eyes were unfocused, as if she was thinking deeply. She shook herself quickly enough and turned to Scott.
"This meeting wasn't the easiest and I've learned some hard truths, but thank you for showing it all to me," she offered him her hand and the teen shook it without hesitation.
"Thank you for listening, I think we've finally understood each other."
To Chris' surprise, Araya nodded in agreement. "Would you release my men, now? I'm afraid that we've overstayed our welcome."
They went to the basement and Chris opened the heavy iron locks, then led her in. The Calaveras looked disgruntled - some even quite rebellious - when she ordered them to behave while Derek and Peter released them. Still, they obeyed, even if they weren't exactly happy about it.
"This is not up for discussion," Araya said sternly. "You especially, Juan, have done enough damage for one day and I'll deal with you later."
The man nodded silently, though he glowered unhappily at Chris when he was grabbed roughly and dragged to his feet. Chris didn't feel like being gentle with him, though, this man had tried to shoot him and almost managed to kill Allison as a result, so Chris reckoned that a little bit of rough treatment was the least what the git deserved.
"Alpha McCall and I have reached an understanding," Araya explained to her men. "As an apology for opening fire unprovoked, our clan will accept Christopher's decision in allying himself with the McCall pack."
"But the Code-" one of the Calaveras protested.
"The Code only forbids hunters from becoming werewolves," she reminded him. "As far as I'm concerned, as long as Christopher stays human, he's free to do what he wants. Being a hunter is a choice, not a life sentence, after all."
Chris couldn't believe his ears, this was more than he hoped for, but exactly what he secretly desired: to be free to choose his own path and decide who to give his loyalties to.
There was some unhappy muttering in Spanish after Araya's words, but no one dared to disagree openly, and soon the men were out of the house, while the woman stayed a moment longer.
"Victoria, Christopher, please accept my apologies, I never meant for Allison to get hurt," she said regretfully. "Is she alright?"
"She's weak after losing so much blood and she's resting in her room, but she'll be fine," Victoria hesitated for a moment before asking: "Can I talk with you for a moment?"
Araya nodded and when the women left, Chris' shoulders sagged as he pressed his forehead against the front door which he'd just closed behind them. The wood felt pleasantly cold against his fevered skin as the events of the last couple of hours caught up to him.
He was finally free to do what he wanted, and that was to find a true family: people who would always have his back, no matter what life threw at them. Seeing how Scott, Derek and Peter all helped to save Allison's life, he had a feeling that he'd already found what he'd been searching for for so long, and he promised to himself that he would do everything in his power to protect them in return.
"Hey, are you all right?" Peter asked, patting him on the shoulder.
Chris nodded, then turned around to face everyone. "Yeah, everything is just... sinking in, I guess. And I don't even know how to start thanking you for saving Allison-"
"You don't have to, it's what the pack does when one of us gets hurt or is in trouble: we help one another," Derek's eyes were warm as he said this.
"But your Alpha power-" Chris felt awful just thinking about the man's loss.
"-was a small price to pay for her life," Derek shrugged, seemingly unbothered. "I've never thought I'd ever say this to an Argent, but… you're one of us now, just accept it already."
Chris nodded wordlessly, suddenly overwhelmed by gratefulness and the feeling of belonging.
"Group hug?" Scott suggested hopefully, when they heard Allison's voice: "Wait for me!"
Chris looked up and saw Allison walking down the stairs. She was grinning but her face was still pale, so he frowned worriedly. "Shouldn't you be resting?"
"Dad, I'm fine, I swear. Besides, Scott mentioned a group hug, how can anyone stay in their room after hearing something like that?" she pouted.
Chris chuckled and hugged her with one arm, Peter joined them and put his arm around Allison's other side, and soon they were all standing in a loose circle, holding each other.
"You're the best werewolves I've ever met," Allison blurted, then blushed hotly.
"Of course, we're all incredibly awesome," Peter’s chest puffed out proudly and Allison giggled at the sight.
"And vain…" Derek muttered under his breath.
Chris snickered but seeing Peter's wounded look, he pretended to cough instead. "So, is anyone hungry?"
He received a couple of enthusiastic "Yes!" in response. It appeared that healing took a lot of energy and he had a bunch of starving werewolves to feed, but he didn't complain. If it was the only way he could thank them for saving Allison, then he was going to prepare a true feast.
***
When the Calaveras' cars drove away, Victoria stood outside, watching them with unseeing eyes as she fought with her own thoughts.
In just one day everything that she'd believed in, everything that she'd stood for was turned upside down, and she didn't know what to do anymore. Should she get back to her house, full of people she'd once hated and wanted them dead? The same people who - in an act of selfless sacrifice she would've once sworn werewolves weren’t capable of - had saved her daughter's life after she'd been shot, by a hunter no less.
This wasn't supposed to end like this, none of this was supposed to happen... She'd hoped that Araya would take her side and help her convince Chris to act like a true hunter again, but now she realized with perfect clarity that this scenario wasn't going to happen. And since Chris was now part of the McCall pack and Allison would probably do the same, where did that leave her? Soon, their divorce will be finalized and she'll be left stranded, without a family or a purpose in life.
Sure, she could fight for custody of her daughter but she knew that Allison would've never forgiven her for that. Not to mention, in less than a year her baby girl would be of age and able to decide for herself what she wanted to do with her life, so forcing Allison to live with her for a couple of months wasn't worth angering and alienating her even further... Their relationship was damaged enough already.
She sighed and hugged herself with her arms. Never before had she felt so aimless and adrift. Everything in her life, including her marriage with Chris, had been planned by others, mainly by her parents and father-in-law who wanted her to act like a perfect wife and ruthless Argent matriarch. But now, when their divorce was almost finalized and it looked like Chris had no intention whatsoever to lead the US branch of Argent hunters, all their acquaintances had already left to join either Kate or Gerard.
The only person who didn't know what to do anymore was… her.
***
Jordan left the airport and took a shuttle to the city center, wanting to eat something before catching the bus from LA to Beacon Hills. After the long flight he needed to stretch his legs a bit and drink some coffee to feel more like himself. Not to mention, being able to walk freely in the streets seemed like a long-forgotten luxury, one he wanted to fully enjoy before inevitably the war caught up to him.
For so long he had been on the run, forced to hide and avoid human settlements that he almost forgot what it felt like, to be in a crowd without being targeted. Even now, when someone looked at him too closely, he had to force himself to calm down and not react with a standard fight-or-flight response. He was aware that he was unnaturally alert, and had to remind himself that he was a veteran of two bloody wars, so he had the right to be a little jumpy.
In the diner he ordered a "French Dipped Sandwich" with roast beef plus large coffee, then went to sit outside, guessing that he would feel better not to be closed indoors with too many strangers staring not so discreetly at his uniform.
"Off duty?" the waiter asked with a smile while serving him the meal. He was a young, handsome boy with curly hair, and Jordan almost did a double take at the sight of him, recognizing him immediately, before he managed to control himself.
"I've got an honorary discharge," he corrected. "Just returned from Afghanistan."
"Wow, that's…" for a moment the kid seemed lost for words, so he decided to spare him the embarrassment.
"My name's Jordan," he introduced himself.
"I'm Alec. Um, are you going to stay in LA for longer?"
"No, I'm going to Beacon Hills to join my pack," Jordan revealed, observing the boy carefully. The Hellhound within him could tell that Alec had already been bitten, but he didn't know what his reaction to other werewolves would be.
The boy’s eyes opened impossibly wide. "How did you-"
"I sensed it, it's quite easy once you know what to look for. Didn't your Alpha teach you how to sense other supernatural creatures?" he asked curiously.
Alec ducked his head and started to pour him coffee from the pot, avoiding his eyes.
"Look, kid, even if your Alpha is a bad sort, not everyone is," Jordan said quietly. "If you ever feel like looking for a new pack to join, go to Beacon Hills and ask for Scott McCall. He's a werewolf too and he's the best person I know."
"He doesn’t know me, why would he take me in?" Alec asked bitterly, loneliness pouring out of him.
"Because that's what we do, we help other werewolves, and we take care of our own."
That's what pack meant, and Jordan's heart longed to rejoin his Alpha… even if Scott wasn't one yet.
"I need to go," Alec fidgeted nervously.
"Sure, kid, no pressure. Good luck with your pack," he said sincerely.
The boy nodded wordlessly and went back to the building, leaving Jordan alone.
Chapter 119
Notes:
Just FYI, there's an explicit gay sex scene in this chapter, so if you don't enjoy reading those, feel free to skip it.
Chapter Text
Knowing that Scott was probably meeting a bunch of werewolf hunters, Deucalion paced anxiously in his room, as if he was a wild animal trapped in a cage… which, in a way, he was.
When he heard Scott's roar (or rather sensed it, that would be a more accurate statement), he felt all fine hair on his body rising as if a thunder struck in the near vicinity. It wasn't a roar of a wounded wolf, nor was it a cry for help, but more of a show of strength, and he couldn't help the violent shiver that shook his entire body. Not from fear, no. He wasn't afraid of Scott, but sensing the pure, unadulterated power in the teen's roar made him instantly aroused, making him realize that he was attracted to the strength his lover exuded, even when they were physically apart.
He suspected that he wasn't the only werewolf who'd felt the roar, though, such a powerful call must have been felt by all supernatural creatures in the town, if not in the entire county. Scott was strong, probably even more than anyone expected. Deucalion had a feeling that his young lover was still developing his powers and they hadn't yet seen everything that he could do. The thought alone was enough to make him even more aroused, which was getting ridiculous, so he tempered his excitement. It wasn't the time for that, Scott might be fighting at this very moment, so he needed to stay focused and ready to help the teen if needed.
He had the feeling that no help would be needed, though, since that roar had sounded way too self-confident for that.
***
When Scott was on his way home, the realization how close he'd come to losing the people he loved finally started sinking in. Everyone could have gotten hurt in the crossfire and if there were more wounded, he wouldn't have been able to save everyone. God, but that knowledge hurt, and he started to shake so hard that the last couple of blocks he went on foot pushing the bike beside him.
When Isaac saw his ashen-grey face, he was by his side in a flash and pulled him into a quick hug.
"What's wrong, are you alright?"
"It's nothing, I'm fine. Allison got shot, though, but we managed to heal her-"
Isaac blanched at hearing that. "What...?! How is she?"
"She's feeling a little weak, but she’s alright, there won't even be any scar."
"I need to see her," Isaac put on his trainers hurriedly, then grabbed his phone and keys from the table. "Mom's on the night shift and I'll try to be back soon-"
Scott shooed him away. "Go see your girlfriend and stay as long as you need, I'll be fine."
The boy smiled at him gratefully, even though it came out a little bleak, and was out of the house in a second.
Scott stared at the closing door for a long moment, then shook himself out of it. He knew that Allison was Isaac's priority, just as she should be, and he wholeheartedly approved their relationship. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a tinge of sadness that after such a difficult day he was left alone in the house, with no one to keep him company.
But it didn't have to be that way, did it? He could call Deucalion and ask him to come, after all.
Suddenly he felt such a fierce longing that for a moment it took his breath away. He wanted Deucalion to be beside him, even when he was feeling down… Especially then. He yearned for the man to hold him, to kiss him, to make love to him. Everything that his lover was willing and ready to give him, he wanted it all.
He took out his phone and called. To his delighted surprise Deucalion picked up immediately, as if he was waiting for the call all along.
"I heard your roar, is everything alright?" The man's deep, sensual voice was tinged with worry.
"Yeah, just… It's been a difficult day. I wish you were here with me." That was the absolute truth, he missed Deucalion awfully and he wasn't going to hide it or pretend otherwise.
"There's nothing that can stop me from meeting you, then, even if your mother gets an aneurysm after seeing me," Deucalion joked lightly and Scott smiled a little.
"Well, she has a night shift at the hospital, so she won't be back home until morning. Isaac is out too, so we'll have the house only for ourselves," he confessed and heard the man's breathing speed up a bit.
"Scott, do you want to-"
"Yeah, I'd like to have a round or two of mindblowing sex and a long, relaxing cuddle session afterwards. Are you feeling up for it?" He crossed his fingers and hoped that the man would say yes.
"Do you really need to ask?" Deucalion snorted, though it came out a little breathless. "Just text me the address and I'll be there."
"Will do. See you!"
He quickly typed the message and sent his address to Deucalion, then realized that he’s going to see the man soon. Feeling the excitement spiking, he went to the bathroom to clean himself thoroughly.
Today he wanted to go all the way, no holding back. It's been a while since he'd been a bottom, usually he was the more dominant partner, but this time he just wanted to feel owned and taken care of. He played with his entrance a little, then used a generous amount of lube to push a butt plug inside as a warm-up for the real thing.
He wanted this night to be special, so he needed to ensure to be as ready for his lover as possible.
***
Deucalion drove in a haze, and was glad that the streets were rather empty at this hour. He checked the address twice before he knocked on the door, but he needn't have worried as they opened immediately and he was pulled inside, straight into Scott's arms.
They started kissing and it was as hot as it was messy, but he certainly didn't mind, and he followed his lover upstairs into the teen's room. He moaned loudly when Scott sucked on his tongue, while nibble fingers opened the zipper in his jeans. When a bold palm curled around his dick and started to stroke it, he rocked his hips unashamedly to get more friction.
"Wait, let's get naked first," Scott muttered, and soon enough their clothes were lying discarded on the floor, while they continued to kiss, panting heavily.
Deucalion's hands slided down the teen's muscled back and cupped the wonderfully firm buttocks, when his fingertips brushed something he didn't expect.
"Are you wearing…?" he asked breathlessly.
"Yup, I wanted to be ready for you."
"Are you sure?" He knew that Scott was quite unashamed when it came to his sexuality, but they hadn't tried anal sex before. Just the thought alone made him dizzyingly aroused and his cock twitched with interest, already leaking precum.
"Mhmm," Scott nibbled on his earlobe, then whispered suggestively into his ear: "Make me yours."
The teen pushed a tube into his hand, then lay down on the bed, parting his legs slightly while he took the plug out of his butt. Deucalion would have to be a saint or impotent not to take such an obvious invitation. Still, when he joined Scott on the bed, he kissed him gently first, starting from his damp brow and temple, then the flushed cheeks and finally the moist, sweet lips.
"I want to make it good for you, so if you feel any discomfort, please tell me," he said quietly while coating his dick with lube.
Scott just nodded, then put a pillow under his hips and parted his legs invitingly.
Pushing slowly into that tight heat felt like the most exquisite pleasure and torture at the same time. Torture, because he had to restrain himself from plunging all the way inside and had to force himself to do it slowly and carefully. When he was halfway there, he felt Scott's muscles tightening around him and he couldn't help it, he groaned loudly as his hips jerked uncontrollably and he pushed deep inside the teen, all the way up to his balls.
"Don't worry, I won't break," Scott said playfully. "Go on, I can take it."
Seeing that the teen was relaxed and didn't seem to be in any pain, Deucalion grabbed his hips and started to push in out of him, slowly at first, but adding a little more speed and force with each thrust. The delighted moans that he received in return sounded absolutely sinful in Scott’s mouth, turning him on even more. Only then he finally allowed himself to let go and plunge deep into his lover’s body, taking, claiming, his strong thrusts causing the bed to creak loudly with each movement.
By then he was so overtaken by lust that he was completely taken by surprise when he felt the wolf awakening inside of him, and next thing he knew his body morphed into his werewolf form. He saw Scott's eyes widening at the sight of him, so he hastily pulled away and sat down with his back to Scott, panting harshly as he tried to calm his racing heart. He desperately wanted to apologize for losing control, but his throat suddenly felt parched and he barely managed to swallow.
After a moment he heard the sheets rustling behind him. He jumped slightly when warm arms circled his waist and Scott hugged him from behind, placing gentle kisses on his back.
"You didn't have to stop, you know," the teen murmured.
"What are you saying...?" he croaked, then cleared his throat. "I just turned into a bloody demon wolf while making love to you, it's a wonder you haven't kicked me out of your bed yet."
"I was just surprised, that's all. I don't care if you're in your human or werewolf form, it's still you," Scott said gently, then continued to place featherlight kisses on his shoulders and the back of his neck.
"But it's off-putting and disgusting, how can you even stand touching me?" he asked desperately.
Rather than responding, Scott changed their position so that they were facing each other, then cupped his face and kissed his blue, bestial mouth. It was a chaste, gentle press of lips to lips, but it shattered Deucalion's heart all the same, in the sweetest way possible.
"It's not off-putting and you're certainly not disgusting, how can you even say that? Where did these thoughts even come from?"
Deucalion recalled another bed and another young lover, whose disgusted flinch and demand that he controlled himself felt like it had happened yesterday. No matter how many years had passed, the memory still hurt something awful.
"That's what my previous lover, Marco, always said when I transformed by accident during sex," he confessed.
Scott's face darkened. "That asshole who tried to kill you after you were blinded- he was your lover?"
Deucalion nodded wordlessly and Scott looked even more thunderous.
"Good for him that he's dead, then, since I'd have wrung his scrawny little neck if he was still alive," the teen growled. "He should've been more accepting of who you are, and when you were blinded he should've been supportive and show you that losing your eyesight isn't the end of the world… Arghhh, I would’ve skinned him alive for doing this to you."
Deucalion smiled wistfully while listening to his lover’s angry tirade, and as the wound of his past heartbreak finally healed, he felt his body transforming back into his human form.
"You wouldn't do that, you're too good-natured for that," he teased Scott gently, who looked sheepish for a moment.
"Okay, maybe not skinned, but- I'd have thought of something equally painful and preferably long-lasting."
Deucalion chuckled, feeling light and happy all of a sudden. When he pulled Scott into a kiss, the teen returned it eagerly, proving without any doubt that he truly didn't mind his earlier transformation.
Chapter 120
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Just as their kiss was starting to get more intense, they were interrupted by a phone beeping loudly, so Scott pulled away with a groan.
"Sorry, I should've muted it," he muttered apologetically, then took a look at the message. "Isaac's staying with the Argents, he wants me to bring his backpack to school tomorrow."
He quickly typed "Ok, see you in the morning. Kiss Allison from me" and sent the message to Isaac, then put the phone on silent.
Honestly, he was glad that he had more time to spend with his lover. Since he was living with his mom and Isaac while Deucalion shared the apartment with Kali and the twins, it meant that the moments when they were alone and had the much needed privacy were few and far between.
Meanwhile, Deucalion observed him with interest. "How do you do it?" he asked curiously and Scott blinked, surprised.
"Do what?"
"Be a mature man one moment and then switch back to your teenage persona. Sometimes it feels like I'm dating two different people. It's- disconcerting," the man admitted.
It seemed that the fact that he'd been playing several different roles didn't go unnoticed... "Does it bother you?"
"Bother me? No. But it makes me wonder which one is the real you," Deucalion confessed, then added regretfully: "I'm sorry, I know that you had plans for today and I keep ruining them."
Scott put his phone away, then went back to bed and put his arms around his lover.
"It's alright, I enjoy sex just like any man, but it's only one part of being intimate. Talking and spending time together is just as important, if not more," he explained while caressing Deucalion's side with his fingertips.
The man sighed with pleasure, then murmured: "There it is again, the adult you. You're like a gem with many facets and I feel like I'm discovering them one by one, never knowing which one I'll get to see at a time... it's fascinating and frustrating all at once."
Scott bit his lower lip, undecided. He'd already planned to tell Deucalion everything about himself, it was only fair if they wanted to build a serious relationship together, but he'd been feeling anxious about it and kept delaying it as much as he could. He didn't think that he could afford playing for time any longer, though, since he'd been painfully reminded today that he was still mortal, and so were the people he loved. Time was not something he had in abundance.
Not to mention, Deucalion deserved to know the whole truth, it was as simple as that. Decision made, he stood up and started to put on his clothes.
Seeing that, Deucalion cursed quietly under his breath: "Damn it, I didn't mean to spoil the mood again."
Scott shook his head. "No, it's not like that. I've just realized that I'm ready to tell you everything about myself and I'd rather do that without any distractions. So please put on some clothes, because this won't be an easy or a short conversation."
The man's head shot up. "Everything?"
"Everything," Scott confirmed grimly. "I don't want to keep secrets from you, not anymore."
While Deucalion was putting on his briefs and t-shirt, he went to his desk and picked one of the files he'd printed the day before. He scanned the text quickly, searching for the paragraph describing his very first meeting with Deucalion in the hospital elevator.
He turned to the man and gave him the file, trying and failing to stop his hand from shaking. "It would be better if you read it first… Page four, our first meeting."
Scott could only hope that at the end of this conversation he would still have a lover, or if Deucalion felt cheated or lied to, then at least an ally... Even if it would pain him to let the man go.
***
Seeing Scott being so grave and serious instantly raised a red flag and Deucalion almost called the whole thing off. Was knowing the truth worth causing Scott so much anxiety? He appreciated the gesture, though, more than he could say. To know that the teen was ready to fully open up to him meant the world to him, so despite his misgivings he took the offered pages and started to read.
It seemed like a fiction at first, none of it was true, Scott and he hadn't met at the hospital, not to mention the teen had never been so oblivious of his true nature…
"What's this?" he asked, thoroughly confused.
"I told you, it's a description of our very first meeting, in a timeline that no longer exists. For me, it's been more than a decade ago. Since then, I fought a war, lost everyone I cared about, then went back in time to change fate."
Deucalion was dumbfounded, surely it was only a joke, Scott would crack a smile any minute now and tell him that he was just pulling his leg… right? But when he looked up at him, the teen was unnaturally pale, clenching and unclenching his hands nervously, and he didn't look like he was joking at all.
Still… Time travel?
"Can you show me?" he rasped. "Your memories?"
Scott nodded slowly, observing him with cautiousness as if Deucalion was a wild, spooked animal, then put a hand on the back of his neck, stroking it gently. Next thing he knew, sharp claws prickled his skin and for a moment he saw only darkness, and then he was falling and drowning at the same time as foreign memories flooded his mind.
***
“So it’s just you and me against her?” Scott asks tentatively, their truce still fresh and untried.
“I think you’ll be surprised what a good team we make,” he sees himself saying, a small smile tugging at the edge of his mouth, and he knows how much he wants it to be true.
There’s a yearning there, a desire for companionship, and he wants to explore it more. But before he has a chance to, the view changes and there’s a-
shift
“Kill her, and it ends,” the Demon Wolf says and the words feel like a punch in the gut.
“It won’t end,” Julia, apparently miraculously alive, says with conviction, “not with me. He’ll have you kill everyone you love. It’s what he does,” she spats.
And Deucalion realises that she’s quite true about that, this monster enjoys manipulating others and making them into murderers, and he hates the thought that it's... him.
“They’re dying, Scott. Your mother, and the parents of your best friends. Kill her now and it’s over,” the Demon Wolf croons. “Become the Alpha you’re meant to be. Become a killer.”
But the teen is not so easily convinced. “They’re not dead yet,” he protests.
“And who’s going to save them? Your friends?” the Demon Wolf's voice is mocking, as if the mere idea is ridiculous.
“My pack,” says Scott with surety and trust born from love so deep that Deucalion envies him, and the teen stands up to face him, his will strong as diamond, as titanium.
shift
The mountain ash circle breaks as Scott manifests as a True Alpha for the first time and Julia falls to the ground.
“How did you do that?” she asks breathlessly.
“I’m an Alpha now,” Scotts states calmly but proudly.
Deucalion sees himself lying on the ground with his eyes healed as he's watching the wonderful, extraordinary boy who turned out to be so much more than he expected...
shift
“I’m not afraid to lose my eyes again. I’m afraid to lose my soul,” Deucalion hears himself saying and he wholeheartedly agrees, he's seen the monster that he once was and he doesn’t want to become it ever again.
shift
The last thing he sees is himself coughing blood after being shot multiple times, but it seems that his older self doesn’t feel any fear or regret. Instead, he takes Scott’s hand and caresses it lovingly.
“Gerard, what he- fear most- is he can’t beat you. And he- knows it,” the last, dying, blood-stained smile and his body stills, his eyes unseeing-
***
He gasped, shaking and breathing heavily.
"Are you alright?" Scott asked worriedly, then sat in front of him and took his hand, squeezing it gently.
Deucalion looked at their joined hands, a mirror sight of the vision he'd just had, and realized that no matter how incredulous or unlikely Scott's tale may seem, it was the truth. They had met each other before, albeit in radically different circumstances, and despite the fact that they had started their relationship as enemies, somehow along the road he had come to care for the young Alpha, enough that he'd been ready to die for him, had died for him.
"Were we lovers in that life?" he asked, but Scott shook his head.
"No. In the end, we were allies, maybe bordering on becoming friends, but- I was only interested in girls at that time, and you were much older and more experienced than me, and totally out of my league, even if I was attracted to boys then."
"That's good, I'd hate to compete with a dead man," he said honestly. "Do you still see that other me, when you look at me?"
"Sometimes, but not very often," Scott admitted. "You're not him, you're different now, and I'm different too. This- us, it's all totally new for me, just as it is for you."
Feeling both bold and shy at the same time, Deucalion raised his hand and traced Scott's face with his fingertips, he caressed the teen's eyebrows, cheeks, slightly parted lips. Slowly, he leaned forward and captured Scott's mouth with his, and it had all of the uncertainty and hope and excitement of a first kiss, as if they just started to be together.
"Wait, I- it's not all," Scott pulled away, his lips trembling a little. "The time travel ritual that I did, it had a price, and it will need to be paid in blood equal to the changes that I've made to the timeline. And since I've already changed a lot… I don't know how much time I have left, but I can't promise you forever."
Deucalion closed his eyes for a moment. He wanted to cry and rage at the unfairness of it all, he just started to be truly happy for the first time ever and now he was being told that it wasn't going to last… But he wasn't young or naive enough to believe that life was fair, or that every story had a happy ending. He'd been blind and driven crazy by pain and betrayal for the past eight years, so he would know.
He cupped Scott's face with his palms and kissed him again, this time more firmly, intently, as if making a statement.
"No one can promise forever to anyone, werewolves especially," he reminded him. "Look at my generation, how many werewolves my age are there left? We all slaughtered each other or were killed by hunters. I don't want to lose the chance at happiness out of fear of losing you. And who knows, maybe I'll die first? I've made a lot of enemies these last few years, I wouldn't be surprised if someone wanted revenge."
Scott's eyes hardened. "I won't let them," he said quietly, but there was steel hidden underneath the softness of his voice.
While he appreciated the sentiment, Deucalion knew that he couldn't expect Scott to keep that promise. "You can try to prevent it, but you can't be everywhere," he reminded his lover gently. "Neither of us know how much time we have left, but I want to spend mine with you, if you'll let me."
It wasn't the most romantic confession ever, but for all his eloquence, talking about feelings was harder than he would've expected. He should've said how much he coveted Scott, how his very presence ignited his body and soul, but suddenly words deserted him and his throat clenched painfully.
"Let you? Deucalion, I don't want anyone else but you."
Scott pulled him close and when their bodies and lips met, it was like everything suddenly fell into place. This was what he'd longed for his entire life, and he was grateful for the chance to have it... even if only for a short while.
Notes:
Yup, lovelies, I'm a hopeless romantic, so please bear with me.
Chapter Text
Sleeping with another person in the same bed can be the most wonderful feeling in the world, but it could also be quite bothersome, especially if they snore, wriggle too much or hog the duvet. Scott had been wondering how it would be to sleep with Deucalion and finally he had the chance to find out.
Blissful, that was the word that immediately came to his mind when he woke up in the morning. Being cocooned in his lover’s warm scent felt similar to being wrapped in a soft, fluffy blanket and he pressed his nose between the man's shoulder blades, inhaling deeply.
"Good mornin'," Deucalion muttered.
"Morning, love," Scott kissed the back of his neck, tasting the damp, slightly salty skin with the tip of his tongue. "I can hear my mom downstairs, so the question is: do you want to meet her or would you rather use the window and make a quick retreat?"
Deucalion groaned. "That won't work, I parked my car nearby so she knows that someone is visiting you. Besides, I need to face her sooner or later, so… Let's get it over with."
Scott chuckled quietly. "Don't worry, I'll protect you."
Deucalion sat up and turned around to face him. "You better, 'cause your mother hates my guts and she'd rather throw me to the wolves rather than allow us to be together."
"Then it's a good thing that we're werewolves, right?" he winked at the man.
"It's just a saying," Deucalion rolled his eyes at him.
"I know, I know," he smiled, even though he was also feeling a little apprehensive about his mom's reaction at seeing the two of them together.
As it turned out, not without a reason. If anything, he had underestimated how much Melissa hated Deucalion, since the moment they appeared on the stairs, her face first turned white, then reddened alarmingly as she looked at the man with fury.
"You! How dare you show your face here-"
"Enough," Scott said with his Alpha voice and she immediately fell silent, watching him with wide eyes. "Mom, whatever you say next, please remember that I'm serious about my relationship with Deucalion and I'm going to be with him with or without your blessing."
She crossed her arms over her chest stubbornly. "I could forbid you from seeing him."
He raised his eyebrow at her. "Do you really think that would even work?"
"You're sixteen and still living under my roof," she reminded him triumphantly, obviously thinking that by pulling that card she won their argument.
"I'm almost thirty, even if I don't look like it. If it ever comes to that, I can leave, so think for a moment if your grudge is worth it," he retorted, trying to rein in his anger, and her eyes widened at the threat.
He felt a calming hand on his arm and he looked up only to meet Deucalion's worried gaze.
"Easy, I don't want to be the cause of your falling out with your mother," the man said gently. "If she doesn't want me here, I'll leave."
Scott appreciated the offer but had a feeling that it would only solve the problem short-term while the root cause remained.
"It's not only about you, it's about the fact that I'm an adult, and she needs to acknowledge that," he said seriously, then turned to face Melissa. "It's your call, mom, if you're going to keep treating me as if I'm unable to make my own decisions or if you're ready to accept that I'll never again be a kid dependent on you."
As a shattered expression appeared on her face, he realized that he hit the nail on the head.
***
Seeing her son with the very man who not so long ago had blinded him and kidnapped his friends, and knowing that they had just spent the night together… It made her nauseous and she instinctively reacted with anger, momentarily forgetting about her resolve to be more tolerant and understanding.
But when Scott threatened to move out… God, it hurt so much. Then it got even worse, he suggested that she couldn't accept that he was an adult, and she finally admitted to herself that he was right. Yes, she preferred to pretend that he was still sixteen rather than admit that she irreversibly missed more than a decade of his life and that he'd grown up without her being there to witness it. Well, maybe the other Melissa had been there for him, but it wasn't her, not really.
"I just want what's best for you," she said weakly, trying to make him see reason.
"What you think is the best for me," he corrected her. "But it doesn’t really matter if you're right or wrong, since it's my decision what I want to do with my life, and I want Deucalion."
His words caused her to deflate and instead of angry she now felt wrung out and defeated.
"Fine, have it your way. But when he breaks your heart, don't say that I didn't warn you," she said bitterly. She too had once been young and madly in love and it had ended in a total disaster, so she only wanted to spare him the same heartache.
"I won't," Deucalion finally spoke directly to her, and she fought with herself not to scoff at him. "Believe it or not, but we want the same thing: Scott's happiness."
She didn't believe him but decided not to fight openly with him, since she suspected that it would only serve to alienate Scott even further, so she gave the man a terse nodd. After that she retreated to the kitchen, which she always did when she was in an emotional turmoil, and started preparing breakfast, hoping that the familiar routine would help to calm her down.
When they sat at the table, they were all uncomfortably silent for a long, tense moment. Then she realized that if Deucalion had spent the night with Scott, they must have been alone, so-
"Have you seen Isaac?" she asked worriedly.
Scott winced. "About that… The Calaveras arrived yesterday, things got heated and Allison was shot by accident, so he wanted to be with her."
She blanched, Chris must be devastated, she couldn't imagine seeing her child getting shot… "Is she alright?"
"Yes, we managed to heal her, but it cost Derek his Alpha spark. He's now a Beta again."
"A Hale sacrificing his power for an Argent?" Deucalion asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise. "That's… unexpected, unheard of, even."
"Not so much if you consider that it was one packmate saving another," Scott explained, grabbing a toast. "You should come to the next pack meeting so that you have the chance to meet everyone. The twins too, though they'd have to be told the truth about me before that."
"What about Kali? Do you want her to be there as well?"
Scott considered the question for a moment. "I don't fully trust her, so… no, not yet at least, she would first need to prove that she’s trustworthy."
When Deucalion nodded with acceptance, Melissa was pleasantly surprised that the man deferred to Scott's judgement in regards to his own pack. It wasn't much, and it certainly didn't make him any less despicable in her eyes, but it was a sign that he respected Scott. There were worse grounds for building a relationship, she reluctantly thought to herself.
***
The next day after arriving in Beacon Hills, Jordan entered the police station in a dream-like state, half expecting the Sheriff and the deputies to greet him with familiarity, but he was dispassionately asked by his former partner Haigh what his business was.
He'd never forgotten how this man had set him on fire just to get the five million dollars bounty, but killing him for a crime he hasn't committed yet was out of question, so he just said: "Jordan Parrish, I'm here for a job interview."
"The Sheriff is in the office on the left," the man pointed at the door.
Jordan nodded, then walked across the open space he knew so well, trying not to stare too much at his former/future desk or the people he'd once known and worked with. He knocked on the door and hearing the familiar voice inviting him in, he took a deep breath and walked in.
He returned the Sheriff's greeting and handshake on autopilot, then sat down when he was asked to.
"So, Mr Parrish, what a former Army soldier is looking for in Beacon Hills? Do you have a family here?" Noah asked curiously.
For a moment Jordan was overwhelmed by a sudden bout of grief and he cleared his throat just as the silence was starting to become awkward. "No, no family… No one alive, at least."
Noah blinked. "I've just touched on a difficult topic, have I? I'm sorry, I didn't want to pry."
Jordan shook off his apology. "No, it's alright. I- I've lost someone who was from Beacon Hills. Call me sentimental, but I've decided to settle here, as a kind of remembrance."
He hadn't just lost someone, he'd lost everyone, his whole pack, but he didn't say it out loud. Still, living anywhere else but in Beacon Hills was unthinkable to him. Despite all the painful memories it was home, the only place in the entire world that he could call his.
"Yes, well… I stayed here for similar reasons, so I can understand that," Noah nodded emphatically. "As a former soldier, I'm sure that you've got enough experience with weapons, probably even more than most of my deputies, you're also physically prepared for the job, so the question is: do you have what it takes to be a policeman?"
"What do you mean by that?" Jordan frowned a bit.
"Can you prevent fights? Try to disarm the opponent and not use your gun unless it's absolutely unavoidable? This is no Afghanistan, the people here are US citizens, even if they're breaking the law," Noah asked, observing him shrewdly. "I don't want my deputies to be trigger-happy."
Jordan thought about the bullet that took his life and said with certainty: "I don't feel any urge to use guns more than necessary." His Hellhound powers though… Now that was an entirely different story, he didn't have any qualms using fire to his advantage.
"Good to hear that," Noah muttered. "One last question, and don't feel like you need to answer, but what exactly was the reason for your discharge from the Army?"
Should he lie or at least hide the truth? Jordan wondered. No, he decided to be transparent, even if it cost him the job; he'd never been a good liar anyway.
"Medical reasons," he admitted. "I had a seizure, I was unconscious for several days which caused some… confusion and memory loss."
"Can it happen again?" Noah's face showed that he wasn't thrilled by the perspective.
"It could, just like stroke or heart-attack can happen to anyone," Jordan shrugged. "I don't think that it will, though."
He couldn't say outright that the seizure had been caused by the onslaught of memories from his previous life and that it definitely was a one-time experience. It was enough that the Army medics had been thoroughly baffled by his case and after two weeks of useless diagnostics they'd finally thrown their hands up and signed the discharge.
"You seem unconcerned by your medical condition," Noah commented curiously.
"Sheriff, for the last couple of months I've dealt with various explosives, including conventional, biological, chemical… When your job can kill you, something as trivial as a seizure seems insignificant in comparison," Jordan said frankly. Whether the Sheriff would hire him or not was up to the man, but after everything that he'd gone through, the loss of consciousness was the least of his worries.
Noah snorted. "So true! Congratulations then, you've got the job, if you want it of course."
Jordan stared at him for a moment, surprised. This interview was even shorter than the last one, but he certainly wasn't going to complain, so he thanked the man and took the job without thinking about it twice.
It was his second chance at life, and he swore to himself that this time he'd do better, he'd help save his pack even if they didn't know him yet. This was what his Commander would have wanted, and it was the only thing that mattered to him.
Chapter 122
Notes:
I know that you all can't wait for Jordan's reunion with the pack, but I can't let him steal the show before it's the right time for that, so... Patience, my dear readers, we're almost there, just a chapter or two more.
And now: onto the show!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
After breakfast - which had turned out to be awkward but not nearly as awful as he'd expected - Scott grabbed his and Isaac's school bags and swung them over his shoulders, when Deucalion gestured to him to give him one. Scott looked at him questioningly.
"There's no way I'm letting you carry both," the man explained.
Scott suppressed an amused smile, who knew that the scary Demon Wolf would be so chivalrous?
"You know that I'm a werewolf too and that I could carry ten of them without breaking a sweat," he commented wryly.
"Just because you could, doesn’t mean that I can't help you with them," Deucalion replied calmly. "Isn't it the whole point of being a couple, that we get to do things together?"
Ignoring his mom's displeased frown, Scott leaned in and kissed his lover chastely on the lips.
"You're right, of course," he murmured as he handed him his own backpack while he kept carrying Isaac's. "Thank you."
Once they were ready to go, Deucalion offered to give him a lift to school, and Scott readily agreed, then turned to his mom, suddenly unsure how he should act around her. Was she still angry with him? Or worse, would she try to stop him from going with Deucalion?
But to his surprise, she just sighed heavily as if letting go of her objections - for now at least - and hugged him goodbye. He gladly returned the hug, then kissed her cheek for good measure.
"Bye mom! And get some sleep after that night shift," he reminded her.
She rolled her eyes at him. "I'm the parent here, I can take care of myself. Now shoo, or you'll be late to school. Adult or not, you still need to finish your education."
"Yes ma'am," he saluted jokingly, then took Deucalion's hand in his and left, closing the door behind them.
"That wasn't so bad, was it?" he asked brightly, but his lover levelled him with an unimpressed look.
"Considering the fact that most of the time your mom pretended that I was invisible, it wasn't exactly a success either. But you're right, we managed to get through the morning without major rows or fisticuffs, so it must count for something," Deucalion commented sarcastically.
"Sometimes you can be as sardonic as Peter and as grumpy as Derek… Are you sure you're not a Hale?" he asked playfully, drawing a surprised laugh out of Deucalion.
"Quite sure. I think I would know if I had such a heritage, including a family fortune like theirs."
Scott snickered, then sobered a bit as he realized that he hadn't really talked with Derek since yesterday afternoon. Normally it wouldn't be an issue, but considering the fact that Derek had just lost his Alpha power and was left all alone to deal with it… That just wouldn't do. He promised himself that he'd go visit his packmate today, he just needed to come up with a convincing excuse so that he wouldn’t come off as overprotective. Which he wasn't, he was just concerned for his packmate, that's all, he told himself firmly.
"Where did your mind just go?" Deucalion asked him gently once they got into the man's car. "If you feel like sharing, of course."
"I was just thinking about Derek, losing his Alpha power couldn't have been easy for him. I thought I'll check on him after school," he explained.
Deucalion nodded with understanding. "I planned to talk with the twins, and explain your… unique circumstances to them, if you don't mind."
Scott smiled wryly and nodded. Unique circumstances, it sounded just about right.
***
Derek stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, golden eyes looking back at him for the first time in eight years.
When Scott had said that Paige's death wasn't his fault, it hadn't felt like a friend comforting him with heartfelt but overall rather empty words. Instead, it'd felt like a real judgement and he'd been granted absolution. His Alpha powers were now gone, but so was his guilt over Paige's death, so he didn't feel that he had any right to complain about the outcome. In a way, he had traded his Alpha spark to save one teenage girl in atonement for the one he'd once killed.
He'd never admitted this to anyone, but being Scott's Beta felt more natural to him than being an Alpha and creating his own pack ever would. That's why he'd never given anyone a bite, even though at first he'd seriously considered the idea. But at the end of the day, he didn't want other werewolves to follow him, he felt much better being a follower himself and wouldn't feel comfortable being a leader, even to a bunch of adolescents.
With Scott, he knew exactly what the other needed and could give him that without question, it was so natural to him, instinctual even. That's why when the Alpha had asked him to lend him strength, Derek obliged without hesitation, trusting the young werewolf with everything that he was. And it went both ways, Scott accepted him without question, even his grumpiness, short temper and overall grouchy disposition, which much too many people judged Derek for, never even trying to look past it.
Derek sighed heavily, even though he didn't miss being an Alpha, he did miss the additional spike of energy that came with an Alpha spark. Right now, he felt deadly tired and the only thing he wanted to do was to curl up in his bed and sleep for two days in a row. This level of bone-deep exhaustion was most probably due to the combined factors of losing his powers and healing Allison the day before. He must still be in the process of regaining his strength, which would explain his almost lethargic state.
As he was brushing his teeth after lunch, he decided to take a much deserved nap afterwards, even though it was still early afternoon. Just as he was wiping his mouth with a towel, he heard a quiet knock, which startled him a bit. When he opened the door, he saw Scott standing there with a plain plastic bag in hand which looked like it had some clothes in it.
"What are you doing here?" he blurted, then winced as he realized how unhospitable it sounded. "I didn't mean-"
Scott just shrugged off his apology. "You forgot, didn't you?"
Derek stared at him in confusion.
"I promised to bring you my clothes each week, for the scenting thing, remember?"
He almost facepalmed himself right here and there. Of course…
"Right, come in," he said, suddenly feeling awkward and not even knowing why.
Scott put the bag on the dresser, then drew him into a loose hug. Derek surprised them both by tightening it, clutching at his Alpha almost desperately. He didn't know why, though, he wasn't feeling hurt or depressed, and the loss of his Alpha spark didn't bother him as much as everyone probably thought it did. Still, ever since he left the Argents' house yesterday evening he had been alone, and while he usually preferred it that way, today he just wanted to feel cared for.
"Hey, it's alright," Scott murmured, gently caressing his shoulders and the back of his neck. "I've got you."
Derek closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, the familiar scent helping to calm him down with each intake of his breath. After a long moment of feeling blissfully relaxed he had to suppress a yawn, the exhaustion settling in his bones like an invisible weight. Scott noticed it - of course he did, when it came to his packmates' well-being nothing seemed to escape his notice - and promptly put him to bed, then tucked him in like he was still a small child rather than an adult man. Derek didn't protest, just let his Alpha take care of him, as it was exactly what he secretly desired but felt too self-conscious to admit out loud.
When Scott kissed his brow softly, he exhaled deeply and clutched the teen's hand.
"Stay?" he murmured sleepily.
"Of course."
Derek closed his eyes and the last thing he remembered before he fell asleep was the feeling of his Alpha's palm caressing his own.
***
It was so easy to forget that Derek was only twenty three years old, Scott thought as he watched over his Beta's sleep. Derek had been forced to grow up and take on adult responsibilities much too quickly, and the man he'd become rarely asked for help, even when he truly needed it.
He was all the happier that today Derek hadn't tried to hide his tiredness and pretend that he was fine. He must be regaining his strength at a slower rate than Scott did, but considering that he was no longer an Alpha, it was quite understandable, and Scott felt guilty for not thinking about it earlier.
After some time he saw that Derek started to wake up, his eyelashes fluttering slightly, and Scott suppressed a giggle at seeing the usually composed werewolf going cross-eyed for a split second before his eyes focused properly.
"How long have I been asleep?" Derek muttered sleepily, rubbing his eyes.
"Let me check-" Scott took a glance at his watch, "an hour and a half."
"And all this time you were lying beside me?" Derek asked, aghast. "You must have been bored out of your mind."
"You asked me to stay, so I stayed," Scott shrugged. "Besides, spending time with my Beta is hardly a hardship, it feels good to be close, even if you were sound asleep."
"You're spoiling me," Derek pointed an accusing finger at him, but his eyes were shining happily, so Scott knew that his Beta didn't have anything against being spoiled, on the contrary.
He grinned and winked playfully. "Guilty as charged!"
It caused Derek to laugh openly, and Scott marveled at how happy it sounded. Coming here, he expected his packmate to be at least a little sad or bitter at having lost his Alpha power, but it seemed that apart from being tired and a little needy, Derek was acting as if nothing bad had happened.
"Derek, you know that you can talk to me about everything, right? I hope that you would tell me if being a Beta again bothered you-"
The man interrupted him gently. "Scott, it's alright. I don't mind, I wasn't much of an Alpha either way." He wanted to protest, but Derek raised his hand, showing that Scott should let him speak. "It's true, I didn't even bother to create my own pack, because I felt too much a part of yours. I don't need anything else."
Scott wanted to tell Derek how much it meant to him, but his throat was clenched tightly, so he just squeezed the man's hands without words. He then opened the link between them, but rather than sharing emotions, he let his now mostly restored energy flow in Derek's direction.
When he'd said that he wanted Derek to lend him his strength, it wasn't just a figure of speech, he fully intended to give it back to him. Even if not the Alpha spark, then at least the life energy he took while healing Allison. It's the least he could do to make it up to him, after all.
For a short moment Derek's eyes flickered with an intense red light before going back to the golden-yellow that was characteristic for Beta werewolves. Scott wondered what that meant, since he could sense no Alpha spark in his packmate, not even the smallest bit, so it couldn't be that.
He wasn't much too worried about it, though. He could hear Derek's heartbeat, stronger and steadier than just a moment before, and knew instantly that the energy transfer was successful.
Notes:
Btw, I didn't feel like writing about Scott explaining to his friends everything that happened with the Calaveras, so you can assume that it happened and we can go ahead with the story.
I hope that you don't mind that I cut corners with this, but we don't need another retelling of events, right?
Chapter Text
When Scott left, Derek was amazed how good he felt after his Alpha's visit. He was enlivened, invigorated even, as if he was infused with so much pure energy that he suddenly needed an outlet. He wondered if he should go jogging, but the idea of trying to keep his speed at a human-appropriate pace seemed like a damper and something he had no patience for. If he planned to run for pleasure, he wanted to do it on his terms, full speed, but he didn't want to risk any casual onlooker catching a glimpse of him, or worse, making a video of him and uploading it on the Internet...
So if not jogging, then what?
The answer was quite simple, and he couldn't believe that he hadn't thought about it earlier: Stiles. He needed Stiles.
***
After Scott had explained to them what had happened during the Calveras' visit, Stiles felt an urge to call his stupidly proud, stubborn boyfriend and ask him why the hell did he have to learn about it all from Scott and not from Derek himself. Losing Alpha powers sounded quite serious and all Stiles wanted right now was to comfort his boyfriend the best he could. Scott had told him to wait, though, since he planned to visit Derek right after school, and Stiles had (very) reluctantly agreed once his best friend had pulled out the 'I'm his Alpha' card.
Once he returned home after school, though, he holed up in his room and tried to convince himself that he was not moping, he was just being reasonably upset. Scott was Derek's Alpha, true, but Stiles was his boyfriend for crying out loud! It should count for something, right? Maybe he didn't share a mystical bond with Derek which would link them on such a intimate level, allowing them to share their deepest feelings, but-
Damn it, maybe he should've agreed to that bite, after all.
His dad must have sensed his half-sullen, half rebellious mood, and came to his room, as if drawn by the same mysterious power which all people acquire once they become parents: somehow knowing when their children need them.
"So, tell your ol' pops what got your knickers in a twist," Noah said as he sat astride a chair, looking at him expectantly.
"Remember that talk that we had about becoming a werewolf? I'm starting to regret not becoming one," he moaned, hiding his face in his hands.
"Why?"
Such an easy, innocent question, so why did it feel so complicated all of a sudden?... Not to mention, how could he start explaining his current predicament without revealing who he'd been dating the past few weeks? He couldn't, he needed to tell his dad the whole story. Would it count as coming out, though? He wasn't entirely sure what his sexuality truly was, so it was hard to say, really.
"It's not about wanting to be stronger or anything, but- There's this guy, Derek, and we've been... you know, seeing each other and it's been great so far. But then there's Scott, and he shares this werewolf kind of thing with him, and how could I ever compete with that?" he said it all in one breath, his voice breaking embarrassingly at the end of the sentence.
His dad shot him an unimpressed look. "Last time I checked, you weren't homosexual," he said frankly.
"I know, I might be Derek-sexual, though," Stiles admitted. "He's… something. I don't know, it probably sounds pathetically lovey-dovey but even though he's such a hermit and stubborn like a mule, he makes me feel special, you know?"
He bit his lower lip, observing his dad's reaction worriedly, but to his surprise, Noah only smiled.
"Son, when I met your mother for the first time, I couldn't stand her, she was so nosy and talkative. It didn't stop me from falling in love with her, though. And even when we were together, most of the time we were still driving each other nuts, but it didn't really matter, as long as we had each other."
Stiles sighed. Normally he would treasure each mention of his mom, rare as they were, but this time it didn't help him any.
"She wasn't a werewolf, though. And you didn't have to compete with another man for her attention-" he saw a nervous tick on his father's face, and he couldn't believe it, but it seemed like… "Wait, you did? There was another man mom could've ended up with?"
Noah shrugged. "I guess that you can be told now, it won't hurt anyone at this point… For a short time your mother was with Rafael McCall, he was more her type, at that time at least, but it didn't quite work out and they split up. Shortly after that Rafael started dating Melissa, so seeing my chance I asked your mom out, and she agreed. The rest is as you know it."
Stiles was dumbfounded. If things had gone differently, Scott and he would have ended up with switched fathers, or worse- there wouldn't be any Stiles or Scott at all… That was a truly terrifying thought: no Scott? Who would he have gotten into trouble with, who would have his back when needed, and most of all: who would he grow up with? Even if they had grown apart lately, Stiles couldn't imagine his life without Scott in it, no matter how jealous he was of those damn werewolf bonds.
"Wow, that's-" he was lost for words for a moment. "It's good then that everything happened as it did, I guess."
They were silent for a moment, before his dad cleared his throat awkwardly. "So, you were saying that Scott is interested in this Derek boy as well?"
"What? No, no, it's not like that. Scott is Derek's Alpha and they share this super unique bond which allows them to sense each other's emotions. So whenever Derek feels down, it's Scott who's always there for him, not me. And I want it to be me."
Now that he said it, he realized that no matter how casual his and Derek's relationship had started, apparently he'd developed feelings for his boyfriend, which made it a lot more serious than he'd initially planned.
He didn't realize that he'd actually said it out loud, until his dad chuckled and patted him on the shoulder. "Son, there's no such thing as planning to fall in love or not. It just happens, usually when you least expect it. That's the beauty of it."
Stiles groaned. "Daaad, stop being so cheesy! I'm sixteen, who finds their perfect match while being still in high school, anyway? It's probably just a phase, it'll pass anyway."
Noah levelled him with a look. "Whatever you say..."
Stiles groaned again. Perfect, even his dad didn't seem convinced!
Suddenly, his phone beeped and he almost fell flat on his face as he jumped to see who texted him. 'Please let it be Derek, please let it be Derek,' he prayed silently as he grabbed the phone with slightly trembling hands.
It was Derek, asking if they could meet and spend some time together, so Stiles let out a very loud, totally undignified whoop of pure joy. His dad just shook his head, exasperated.
***
Mason was suspicious, and that was never a good sign, Liam thought as he realized that his friend was watching him with that telltale frown on his face, but he should have expected it with the way he'd avoided Mason recently. He knew that he was an awful liar, though, so it was either that, or risking accidentally spilling the truth about Scott being a werewolf. He felt awful keeping secrets from his best friend, though, and he knew that he couldn't do it forever.
"Liam, wait!" he heard as he tried to make a hasty retreat after the last class.
Could he just pretend not to hear it?... Damn, he was thinking too long, it was already too late for that.
"What's wrong with you, mate? Why are you avoiding me?" Mason asked once he caught up with him, looking more than a little peeved.
"Sorry, I'm still not myself after the attack and everything-" he mumbled, but his friend apparently had enough of his excuses.
"That's bullshit and you know it! When I saw you talking with the Talbott siblings and that McCall guy you seemed perfectly fine, so it's just me you have a problem with. I don't even know where you live anymore, so I can't visit you, I can't talk to you-"
"Alright, alright, I screwed up and I'm sorry," Liam caved in, sensing real hurt in his friend's voice. "It's just that- there are things I can't speak about, and I didn't want to lie to you."
Mason looked at him closely and seeing that he was being honest, some of his anger dissipated, but not all of it.
"Can't or won't?" he pressed.
"Unless I get Scott's permission, I can't," Liam explained, then winced expecting another tirade about how Scott can't be trusted. Mason surprised him by not drilling down the topic, though.
"I see. Can I at least go with you to- well, wherever you're staying at the moment?"
Liam exhaled slowly with relief. "Yeah, sure. We're living in a flat now, actually it's two separate apartments located on the same floor. I even have one flat for myself, can you imagine that?" he said proudly.
"That's so cool!" Mason said, impressed.
Liam grinned, glad that things were getting better between them, but he didn’t let his guard down, as he knew better than to underestimate Mason's stubbornness and curiosity.
Whenever his friend stumbled on a secret, he was like a dog with a bone, never letting go until he chewed it clean. Nothing could stop Mason from getting to the bottom of a case, especially one so shrouded in secrecy as what had happened to Liam and his family.
Chapter 124
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
To Jordan's relief - which he tried not to show openly - this time around it wasn't Haigh who was assigned as his partner but Deputy Clark. He'd worked with Valerie before (he recalled fondly that she'd called the Beast of Gévaudan a 'prehistoric animal' which he found hilarious) so he was more than happy to be partnered with her once again, even if she didn't remember him and he was nothing more but a stranger to her.
After his shift at the Sheriff's station he went to his car which he’d bought cheaply from a used vehicles dealer, then drove to Scott's house. He parked nearby, close enough to see the comings and goings, but trying not to be too obvious about it. He knew that he couldn't just barge in, claiming to know Scott from his previous life, as that would more likely get him admitted to the Eichen House rather than help any. But he couldn't keep away, and so he would sit in the car for hours watching the McCalls' house, a small part of him hoping that they would notice him and a larger part of him fearing it, not wanting to see the lack of recognition on their face… On his Commander's face, especially.
Today was no different, he was sitting in the car without anyone paying any attention to him, which caused him no small amount of relief and disappointment at the same time, when he saw a teenager he didn't recognize approaching the house. He was ready to ignore him - surely it was Scott's friend from school - when the kid took out a handgun, loaded it and pointed it at the door a second before it was opened by Melissa, then barged in, quickly closing the door behind him.
"Fuck," he muttered, then got out of the car and ran to the house.
Who was that kid? Was he just a robber? That didn't seem right, normally robberies were committed when no one was at home, especially not when the owners were inside. Not to mention, the McCalls weren't particularly wealthy, there were dozens better targets in this part of the town. No, this must be something else, something personal…
He was in front of the house within seconds. He put his hand on the handle but the doors didn't bulge, the little bastard must have locked it from the inside. He started to listen in what was going on in the house, trying to figure out if he needed to act quickly - though breaking in through the window by smashing the glass would probably cause the kid the shoot - or if he had the time to do it quietly and discreetly, not alarming anyone of his presence.
"Listen, whatever you want, I'm sure we could find a solution that doesn't involve a gun," he heard Scott saying, and for a moment his throat tightened painfully. Scott-
"I'm not putting the gun down, I'm not an idiot. And what I want is answers, and you're gonna give them to me, or else your family will get hurt."
Alright, it seemed that he had some time to act, at least. He was no lockpicker, but living on the run had taught him how to get into closed buildings by using his Hellhound abilities: all he needed to do was to ignite his fingertips and melt the locks. It was messy, and quite problematic as the locks would need to be replaced afterwards, but it was relatively quick and, which was the most important now, nearly silent.
When it was done, he gently pushed the door open, trying to do it as quietly as possible, and peered in. There was no one in the hallway, but he could hear the voices coming from the living room. He made sure that his gun was locked and loaded, then he entered the house.
"You ruined my life! And you seem to know things about me, things I haven't told anyone, and I want to know why-" the kid continued his rant, but he didn't let him finish, as he took a step inside the living room.
"This is the police, drop your weapon!" he called, aiming at the teen’s torso.
The kid turned and looked at him in surprise, but that short moment of distraction was enough. With impressive speed Scott got to the boy and hit him on the head hard, causing the body to drop and hit the floor unconscious.
For a moment everyone was silent, then Melissa said in shaking voice: "Thank God you were here, Mr-"
"Parrish. It's Deputy Parrish," he said while lowering his gun down and trying to squash his despair.
Melissa didn't know who he was, she didn't remember him, he was on his own in the past. The realization was painful, and his hands shook a little as the knowledge that he was truly alone started to slowly sink in. He had no pack, no one to call his own-
"Jordan…?" he heard a quiet question and when he looked into Scott's eyes, he saw- Was it recognition?
"Commander?" he asked in a small voice, hoping that it wasn't just wishful thinking on his part...
Scott let out an inarticulate, needy sound, then took a step in his direction, looking wobbly on his feet, so unlike the graceful Alpha werewolf he usually was.
Jordan wasn't doing much better, though. His entire body trembled violently as he stumbled forward and almost fell into his leader's welcoming embrace, tears pouring down his cheeks for the first time since he'd died.
***
When he saw his mom being held at gunpoint, Scott almost felt his heart stop. A split second later, when he saw that it was Matt who held her hostage, he belatedly realized that with everything that had been happening lately, he simply forgot about the boy.
He wasn't proud of it, since he was acutely aware how dangerous Matt could be when left to his own devices - especially when feeling wronged and vengeful - but he had other priorities, and this troubled, unhinged, hateful boy wasn't anywhere near the top of his list. That's why he'd pushed Matt out of his mind with a vague promise to himself to think about him later. It wasn't the best decision he's ever made, he just started to realize.
Even though he didn't believe it would work, he tried to reason with the boy and wasn't the least surprised when his attempt turned out to be unsuccessful. Talking with Matt was like trying to walk through a raging storm, never quite knowing when the lightning will strike but feeling the electric charges in the air. That's the feeling he got from Matt, as if he was filled with hurt and rage to the brim, so he could only hope that it hadn't reached the boy's limits yet.
He prayed for some kind of distraction, a chance to disarm Matt without risking Melissa's life, and he couldn't believe his luck when Jordan appeared in the room in his typical "it's the police" fashion. Scott didn't waste the opportunity and the moment Matt turned to Jordan, he hit the boy hard on the head, causing his body to slump to the floor.
Only then he allowed himself to look up at his packmate. Why was Jordan here, anyway? He was supposed to be in Afghanistan still, there was no logical explanation why he would be in Beacon Hills, of all places, unless… Unless something had drawn him here. But had it been a conscious decision, or had Jordan simply followed an instinct he didn't quite understand?
He listened attentively as his mom talked with Jordan, and saw a deep, undisguised sadness in his packmate's eyes, the kind of grief that was mirrored on his face each time he'd thought about all the people that he'd lost. It couldn't be faked, not this kind of raw, unadulterated pain, and even though it hurt him to see it, it also gave him hope that this wasn't just a stranger.
Well, there was only one way to find out if his guess was right.
"Jordan…?" he asked tentatively, almost vibrating with nervousness.
Hearing the word 'Commander' whispered in return with such a desperate hope made him realize that It was his Jordan, the one he'd once lost, and now found again.
Feeling faint from the sudden flood of feelings, he put his arms around the man and squeezed him tightly. The moment their bodies touched, he could feel their pack bond awakening and flaring up with joy and love so intense that for a moment he couldn't breathe.
"How did you- You died- But you're here- " he mumbled incoherently, his palms sliding up and down Jordan's body, making sure that he was real. Seeing that his packmate was crying openly, he cupped his face and gently brushed the wet cheeks with his thumbs. "Hush, it's alright, I'm not going to let you fight alone ever again, I swear."
"You- you gave me an order, remember?" Jordan said hoarsely. "You told me to find you once everything was over, so when I woke up back in Afghanistan and remembered it, I had to- I had to find you."
Scott closed his eyes for a short moment, feeling overwhelmed. It seemed that even time and death couldn't stop his beloved Hellhound from following him… He didn't know if he deserved such a deep, unconditional devotion, but he was grateful for it nevertheless.
"You did well," he praised warmly, and saw Jordan's face brightening at his words.
It had taken him quite a while to figure Jordan out in his first life, as the young Deputy could be quite aloof sometimes, especially with strangers, but in the end Scott had managed to find a way into his heart. It was quite simple, really: Jordan needed a leader, someone to follow through thick and thin, who would return loyalty for loyalty.
Scott had given him all that, and yet… failing Jordan's trust by abandoning him to hunters' non-existing mercy had been excruciatingly painful, even though it was Jordan's idea, since as his self-appointed bodyguard Jordan wouldn't have it any other way. Scott thought that he'd lost his Hellhound forever then, so having him back, alive and with memories of their previous life still intact, it felt like a blessing.
He didn't know how long they just stood there, simply holding each other, when Melissa cleared her throat.
"Could someone please explain to me what's going on?"
He released his packmate from his embrace, though he did it with reluctance. Thankfully, he could feel through their bond that they were both much calmer now, their link humming quietly in the back of his mind.
"Mom, this is Jordan Parrish. I don't know how or why, but he remembers our previous life,” he explained with awed disbelief.
"Is he a werewolf too?" she asked, looking at Jordan curiously.
"Better. He's a Hellhound," Scott grinned, this was going to be entertaining... As if reading his mind, Jordan ignited both his hands, and Melissa jumped, surprised.
"Holy-" she stifled a curse. "Werewolves, banshees, hellhounds, what's next? Never mind, don't answer that, I don't want to know... But we still need to figure out what to do with Matt, he can't just lie on our carpet forever."
Scott blinked, realizing that meeting Jordan effectively pushed all other thoughts out of his mind, including one unhinged teenager who had barged into their house armed with a gun.
"Matt? This is Matt Daehler, the guy who last time killed half of the crew at the Sheriff's station?" Jordan asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise. "Why did he come here, though?"
"I've already changed the timeline quite a lot," Scott admitted. "Long story short, we revealed to his parents that he was stalking Allison and they withdrew him from the school, then sent him to the Eichen House for treatment. You probably won't be surprised to hear that he wasn't treated kindly there."
Jordan made a face. "Eichen House? Poor bugger, I almost feel sorry for him."
"We helped to get him out of there, though, so I don't know why he feels that we wronged him," Melissa said with a frown.
"Let's ask him, then," Scott said grimly as he looked down at the unconscious body lying motionless on the floor. "He said that he wanted answers, well so do I."
Notes:
Surprise! I told you guys that I needed Matt for something, well here he is :)
Chapter 125
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Matt woke up slowly, his head pounding something awful.
He couldn't remember the last time he slept peacefully the entire night. Something so basic most people took for granted, and it had eluded him for so long that he would wake up with a gasp again, and again, and again, until he was ready to scream or cry, or both. At least the last couple of weeks his nightmares had some diversity to them, as only about half of them had been about people laughing at him while he was drowning. The other times he'd dreamt about the Eichen House, and he couldn't tell which was worse.
God, but his head was killing him. He blinked slowly, feeling disoriented, when rough hands grabbed him and pulled him upright. He opened his eyes widely, suddenly panicked, when he was pushed onto a chair with his wrists handcuffed at his back. What-
He looked at the people surrounding him, and a cold shudder went down his spine, even though it was only the McCall boy and his mother, plus that young policeman who had surprised him earlier. Seeing their stiff shoulders and stony, implacable faces made him realize that this was serious.
Had they called his parents already? He hoped that they had, and feared it equally as much. Would this be the last straw after which his parents would finally wash their hands of him?...
"You don't have the right to hold me here," he said rebelliously, trying not to reveal how nervous he truly was.
This is just another act, he told himself, simply a show, and you have to fool the audience. Make them believe what's on the outside, and never let them see what's on the inside.
Inside was where he hid his fears and doubts, weakness upon weakness which had ruled his life for so many years now that he couldn't quite remember how it was not to be afraid. But he didn't want to reveal them to anyone, much less to people he knew nearly nothing about.
"You wanted to talk? We'll talk, then, but it's me who's going to ask the questions," the teen, Scott, sat down facing him. "Why have you come here? What did you want to accomplish?"
"I won't tell you a thing, I don't have to talk with you," he said stubbornly.
This was it, he had been caught, there was no way out of this. He'll be sent to a juvie, and could only hope that the caretakers there were nothing like the guards in the Eichen House. But then again, hope had never done him any good, so it's better to assume the worst.
He'd just royally fucked up his life, he realized. He would've hung his head in defeat, or worse, begged to be let go, if it wasn't for his resolve not to show his weakness.
"Why don't you cut the crap? Just arrest me already and be done with it," he feigned nonchalance, while inside he was frozen with fear.
"Matt, I don't think you realize how serious your situation is," the woman said with a worried frown. He was ready to snap at her when Scott rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"That's the thing, mom, I think he knows it perfectly well," the teen mused. "His emotions, they're an ugly, tangled mess. And he constantly smells of fear, even when he barged into our house with a gun, he reeked of it."
Matt blanched. Why did this guy talk about his emotions as if he could somehow sense them? But if he could, if it wasn't just a stupid charade...
"You don't know a thing about me, so fuck off," he scoffed disdainfully.
That was what he was good at, pushing the people away and keeping them at bay. They didn't have any business poking their noses where they didn't belong, they didn't know him and didn't care at all what would happen to him, so why should he open up and tell them anything?
Scott tapped the table absentmindedly with his fingertips. "Let me tell you a story about a boy, then, it happened a couple of years ago. The boy didn't know what was happening, and suddenly he was grabbed and thrown into a swimming pool. He yelled that he couldn't swim, but no one listened. He went under, swallowed water, but no one cared. He was dying, and they were laughing-"
"Stop it," he croaked, feeling faint and terrified at the same time. How? How did that guy know so much?
But Scott didn't stop there, he continued the story in a perfectly controlled voice and God, how Matt envied him that. He wanted to be like that too, calm and self-confident, as if nothing could faze him.
"The boy didn't see any light at the end, the only thing he saw was darkness. He didn't die then, though, but the man who saved him was the one who condemned him. 'This is your fault,' the boy heard as he regained consciousness. 'You say nothing, you tell no one.' And he didn't. He told no one, ever, even though he would wake up at night and gasp for breath. So tell me, Matt, how would that make him feel, even years later after it happened?" Scott asked gently.
It was that gentleness combined with the story that was his own which finally pushed him over the edge. His body started to shake, and he couldn't stop the tremors.
"He was hurting... so much," he gasped. "In his dreams, he was drowning again, and again... If only someone cared, if only someone asked why he couldn't sleep, why he woke up with a gasp- But no one ever did. My parents, they- they bought me an inhaler, they thought I was asthmathic. They just wanted an easy solution, but never asked what was really happening, they didn't want to know the truth-"
"Do you want them to know, now?" the young cop asked quietly.
He shook his head, realizing that he just revealed things about himself he had never told anyone before. "What difference would that make, now? I've fucked up everything, I know it. You caught me red-handed with a gun I stole from my dad, do you think he'll want to listen to any excuse I say?"
"But why? Why did you come here with a gun? Couldn't you just talk to us without it?" Scott looked at him shrewdly, as if looking for something, but Matt didn't have any idea what the teen expected to see.
"I just- I felt that there was something off about you and I was right, wasn't I? The way you knew exactly which buttons to push when you came to my house… I couldn't stand the thought that someone knew what happened to me, so I thought if I threatened you to keep your mouth shut, maybe no one else would need to know."
"So you only wanted to- what, scare us into silence?" Mrs McCall asked incredulously.
He looked away, the inside of his mouth tasting of acid. He knew that taste, it was self-loathing and shame mixed with regret, and the futile wish to turn back time, even though he knew perfectly well that it was impossible.
"I didn't plan to hurt anyone. I don't know, I wasn't thinking clearly. It's so hard to focus, my thoughts, they're all over the place-"
Even though he was still handcuffed, he started to struggle in frustration. The sudden movement caused his head to pound even more painfully, though, and a hiss escaped his mouth before he could suppress it.
"Are you in pain?" Scott asked, which was stupid, since it was he who had hit Matt on the head hard enough to cause him to lose consciousness.
He wanted to sneer at him, but only managed a weak nod. He closed his eyes, trying to fight his migraine, when he felt a warm palm touching the back of his head. Suddenly, the pain subsided, and he opened his eyes just in time to see black lines flowing down Scott's hands and forearms.
"What… What was that?" he rasped, wondering if he was going insane, after all.
Please, no, he begged silently. He didn't want to get back to the Eichen House, ever. He'd rather kill himself than let that happen again.
"You were onto something when you realized that there was something off about me, you just didn't know how much. You see, I'm not entirely human-" as he said this, Scott's eyes started to glow with a bright red light, and Matt flinched violently, the sight of those blood-red irises making the fine hair on the back of his neck stand up.
He looked around frantically, but apparently both Scott's mother and the young deputy already knew about- well, whatever the teen was, as they didn't show even a sign of shock or surprise.
"Why- why show me this? What do you want from me?"
The being wearing teen's face smiled slightly, showing off sharp canine teeth. Fangs, Matt mused, feeling strangely detached from the panic that bubbled inside him, just beneath the surface. They're called fangs.
"Easy, I won't hurt you, well, not unless you threaten my family or friends again, then I'd have to kill you," the creature said almost apologetically, and Matt had to suppress a hysterical laugh. "But I don't want to see you hurt, not if I can prevent it... And I can. You see, as an Alpha werewolf I have the power to remove people's memories. Normally I wouldn't recommend it, as usually time helps dealing with painful memories, but it seems that no matter how much time passes, you're still not getting any better."
Matt swallowed with difficulty. He'd never thought that memory removal was even possible, but if it was, he wanted it, he wanted it so much...
"What's the catch?" he asked, because he wasn't naive enough to believe that there wasn't any.
The werewolf sighed, a strangely human sound. "Even if your memories are gone, the trauma remains, and you would still wake up at night, but it will be even worse, since you won't even remember why. So before I agree to remove your memories, you'd have to face your fears. I could help you, I can teach you how to swim-"
"No, no, I won't..." he protested weakly. "You can't make me."
The red eyes hardened. "This trauma of yours, you've let it fester for too long, and it makes you unpredictable, it makes you dangerous. Sooner or later, you're going to hurt someone, and I can't let it happen. So it's your choice: either we're taking the official route and let the police deal with you, or you agree to do things my way, and that means facing your fears. The decision is yours."
Matt wanted to be angry, to scream about the unfairness of it all, but he was painfully aware that if not for his actions today, he wouldn't be in this situation at all. It was all his doing, and this time he had no one to blame but himself. And even if there was even a slight chance of getting his memories removed, he wanted to give it a try. If only he wasn't so bloody afraid...
"What if I can't do it, if I freeze and start drowning-" he gasped, the mere thought of going anywhere near deep water making him panic.
"I won't let you drown," Scott assured him, his face and eyes gradually returning back to normal. "Look, I'm stronger than most humans, so even if you go under, I'll still be able to get you to the surface, no matter how much you'd be struggling in panic. There's no real danger involved, only the one that's stuck inside your head. It's that fear that you need to overcome, and once you’ve done that, I'll remove your memory, if that's what you want."
Matt started to shake again, and he felt deadly tired, as if his bones and joints were at least twice as old as he was. His throat was parched and he felt cold, as if drenched in icy water.
He licked his lips nervously. "I- I need to think," he stuttered. "Can you you uncuff me? I swear I won't do anything, I just need to- I need to-"
Scott frowned, then put a palm on his forehead, a strangely fatherly gesture which seemed ridiculous considering that the werewolf was Matt's age. Or was it also a lie, an act designed to fool everyone?...
He breathed with relief when his hands were uncuffed and he rubbed his aching wrists. A moment later Mrs McCall put a glass in front of him and he took a sip, swallowing his gratefulness alongside the mouthful of water, not wanting to thank the people who were keeping him here against his will. But these were the same people who had helped him to get out of the Eichen House, he thought to himself. On the other hand, if it wasn't because of Scott, he wouldn't have been sent there in the first place…
God, this was so confusing, he didn't have any energy left to figure out if they were more guilty or helpfull. Did it really matter anymore? He was at his wits end, as nothing he had done brought him any relief. He desperately needed help, and it was clear that his parents didn't have any idea what to do either.
But… could he trust these people?
Did he even have any other choice? Being arrested wouldn't help him any, he was quite sure of that. In the end, he would just be sent to another facility whose staff would care for everything else but him. No, being handed to the police wasn't a viable choice, not really. So where did that leave him?
"Alright, I'll do it," he finally said, clutching at the half-empty glass as if it was his lifeline.
He wasn't fooling himself, he was absolutely terrified of what he was agreeing to, and he was glad that he was sitting, since his legs felt as if they were made of jelly. Buf it was the first time in a very long time when he started to believe that he could actually get better, and that tiny bit of hope was better than the total hopelessness he was used to.
Notes:
I hope that you liked Matt's POV, I wanted to do him justice but wanted to stick to the personality he showed in the canon. Still, I think he deserved better than being drowned by Gerard, so since this is a fix-it story, let's fix that as well!
Chapter 126
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Scott was honestly relieved that Matt accepted their offer of help, as he was doubtful that getting him convicted would accomplish anything. More likely than not, it would push the boy even further down the path of crime, and he wasn't too keen on allowing that to happen.
"So what happens now?" Matt asked, watching them all with apprehension.
That was the question, wasn't it? Their arrangement wasn't going to work if they didn't learn to trust one another, so he couldn't treat Matt as if he was going to murder everyone as soon as he gets the chance. Not to mention, what the boy had gone through in the Eichen House had been completely out of his control, so Scott wanted to give him at least some of it back.
He hummed thoughtfully. "Do you want your parents to know about what happened today, or would you prefer that they weren't told about the details?"
Matt's eyes opened widely. "You mean that I have a choice?"
"You know your parents better than we do, so you probably have a better idea how they would react, if they'd be supportive," he explained.
"Of your plan to teach me how to swim? They'll be ecstatic. But the part about me coming here with a gun..." the teen looked away, clenching his jaw.
Melissa put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, they're your parents and they care about you."
"I suppose so, but everyone has their limits, and this might be theirs," Matt said grimly, then rubbed his red-rimmed eyes. His hands shook as he did it. "I don't know. They'll be furious, father especially, but I think they're gonna be relieved that the police won't be involved, since it would mean more problems for them."
"My mom will call your parents then and ask them to come here," Scott decided. "In the meantime, you should get some rest, you look like death warmed over."
It was a testament to how exhausted Matt really was that the boy followed him upstairs without much fuss. However, when Scott led him to his room and told him that he could take a much needed nap, the boy instantly tensed up.
"I don't think I'll be able to fall asleep here," he said with visible apprehension.
"Just give it a try, alright?" Scott cajolled gently.
"Why are you being so nice to me anyway? I threatened you with a gun. You should be at least a little wary around me."
He smiled sadly at hearing the suspicion in Matt's voice. "You're not the first person to do that, and you certainly won't be the last. There are people out there who would happily put a bullet in my head just because I'm not human, either because they hate my kind or just because they want my claws as a trophy."
Matt looked at him sceptically. "So you just, what, got used to it?"
"I learned to deal with it in my own way," he shrugged. "When I can, I try to make them see that their hatred is unfounded and that I'm a living and feeling person just as they are. But if it doesn’t work, I turn the table, change hunters into prey and give them a taste of their own medicine."
There was a moment of tense silence, then Matt said slowly: "It's a good thing that I haven't shot anybody, then."
Scott smiled grimly, showing off his fangs on purpose. "Absolutely. Don't try to kill anyone if you're not ready to be killed in return."
"I'll remember that."
Looking self-conscious, Matt sat down on the bed and pulled his shoes off, then glanced at him uneasily.
"Alright, I get the hint, I'll leave you alone. Try to get some rest," Scott turned around and left, closing the door quietly behind him.
He didn't know what to think about Matt, not really. On one hand, he pitied him, since it seemed like the boy had never gotten the help he needed and his emotional wounds rather than heal had been left to fester. On the other hand though, he was also egotistically focused only on his own hurts, true or perceived, while completely disregarding everyone else's feelings. Still, Matt was young enough to change, Scott thought to himself, surely there was a hope for him yet? He recalled some moments when the boy seemed almost likable, so there was a potential there. Or at least, that’s what he hoped for.
Any thoughts about Matt disappeared from his head, though, once he went downstairs and saw Jordan there.
To know that his beloved Hellhound was here, with him… it was an incredible, heady feeling. When he'd decided to travel to the past he'd accepted the fact that he'd be the only person to remember the previous timeline, so to have someone that he could share those memories with, it was nothing short of a miracle.
"Melissa is outside, calling the Daehlers," the man explained as he saw him walking down the stairs.
Scott sat in the armchair and looked at him hopefully. Jordan understood instantly and kneeled before him without hesitation. Once the Hellhound's head was placed on his lap, Scott buried his fingers in Jordan's hair, gently scratching the man's scalp with his nails, and they both sighed with pleasure at the familiar caress. Gods, how he'd missed this!...
After a moment his mom entered the room. "The Deahlers are going to be here in half an hour- What in the world are you two doing?" she asked, looking faint at the sight of Jordan kneeling and being petted by Scott.
"Mom, just as I have wolf's traits, Jordan's got some hound's characteristics. And which dog doesn’t enjoy being scratched behind its ear?" He shrugged unapologetically.
She shook her head and threw her hands up in exasperation. "You know what? I give up. I swear that nothing supernatural is going to faze me anymore..." Scott smirked, he was going to remind her that later. His amusement was quite short-lived as she continued sternly: "Now, who's going to explain to me why the lock in our front door is completely melted?"
Jordan stood up hastily, looking suitably chastised. "Um, sorry? It was either that or barging through the window, and I figured that you wouldn't like having broken glass on your carpet." She continued looking at him with a displeased frown, so he added, contrite: "I'll find someone to fix it."
"That's better," she nodded with approval, then raised her eyebrows expectantly at him.
"Right, going," the man muttered. "Sorry, Commander, first duty, then pleasure."
Scott chuckled, then stood up to hug him tightly. "Just come back quickly, alright? I need to bring you up to speed about what happened while you weren't in Beacon Hills."
"Our pack…?" Jordan asked hopefully, and Scott nodded. Their family of choice was getting united once more.
***
When he was lying down on the foreign bed, Matt was sure that he wouldn't be able to fall asleep. Even as a child, he hadn't been a huge fan of sleepovers, and after that party at Laheys' he had started to hate them with a passion. Falling asleep wasn't easy for him even without the additional stress of being in an unfamiliar place and having to pretend before strangers that he was alright, that he wasn't troubled or disturbed.
Adults had a habit of using these words when dealing with kids that weren't all sunshine and rainbows, covering the fact that they were feeling uncomfortable and didn't know how to act in their presence, which was ridiculous. It actually made him think that most adults were rather useless, and those who weren't, well, those were the people he'd learned to be wary of.
But here, lying in a werewolf's bed - and wasn't that an incredible thought! - he didn't feel like he had to pretend to be someone he wasn't. Scott and his mom, they weren't fooled by his act and they'd already seen him at his worst. It should make him feel exposed and vulnerable, but instead, he was… relieved. For the first time in a very long time he could just be himself, even if he felt battered and jarred on the inside.
That feeling of overwhelming relief was the last thing he remembered before falling asleep. When he woke up again, it was to the muffled sounds of a loud argument coming from below. He winced, recognizing his father's angry voice, and for a moment he was tempted to pretend to be still asleep to avoid what surely was going to be an unpleasant conversation. But the thought didn't sit well with him, he wasn't a coward.
He sat up gingerly, trying not to move his still aching head too abruptly. Thankfully, when he had been sleeping the pain dulled to a tolerable level and was more of an annoyance now. He padded quietly downstairs, belatedly remembering that he'd left his shoes in Scott’s bedroom, but he decided against going back, afraid that he'd lose his resolve to face his parents if he did that.
"That's it, I've had enough of his erratic behaviour, he's not going to get away with it!"
He gulped, hearing the fury in his dad's voice, but he took a deep breath and said hesitantly: "I- I can explain-"
He didn't get to finish the sentence as his father turned to him abruptly, took his arm in a bruising grip and started to drag him to the exit.
"You don't get to explain anything! Do you have any idea how much trouble I could have been in because of your stunt-"
"Dad, stop, you're hurting me…"
His arm was hurting from his father's grip as he was being dragged outside shoeless while everyone was watching, making him feel ashamed and much too vulnerable for his liking.
Suddenly he heard a loud thud which silenced everyone. He looked in shock at Mrs McCall who had just bashed a heavy cooking book against the table.
"That's enough," she said with a deceptive calmness, though her eyes were blazing. "Mr Daehler, I didn't call you just so that you could resort to violence. In this house we don't condone child abuse, so if you could take your hands off Matt, that would be highly appreciated."
His father gaped at her incredulously but let him go, probably due to the shock of being chastised by a woman as if he was an errant child. Once he was free, Matt quickly put some distance between them and stood beside Scott, hoping to use him as a shield in case his father went ballistics again, since as a werewolf the teen probably wasn't easily intimidated.
"Now, as I was saying, Matt did the wrong thing by taking your gun, but in the end he hasn't hurt anyone, and his actions seemed to be a cry for help rather than an act designed to cause harm. Since Scott has expressed the wish to befriend Matt, with your permission-" Mrs McCall looked at his parents pointendly, clearly indicating that she wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer, "-we'll arrange some schedule for the boys to spend some time together."
Matt's father looked as if he wanted to protest, but he didn't get the chance.
"Of course we accept," Matt's mom who was silent the whole time has now straightened, tilting her chin up defiantly as if daring her husband to disagree, though her lips trembled slightly. "Thank you for the offer, and for your understanding."
Clearly being outnumbered, Matt's dad deflated and sat down on the chair, wiping off small droplets of sweat from his forehead, a clear show of conceding defeat. Once the women started to discuss the timetable and compare the schedules, Matt allowed himself to relax. Feeling daring, he even elbowed Scott lightly.
"Moms are incredible," he muttered under his breath.
The werewolf smiled crookedly. "So true," he whispered back, bumping their arms together, and Matt was surprised by the warm feeling spreading in his chest at the gesture.
They weren't friends, maybe they won't ever be, but this easy camaraderie… he could get used to it.
Notes:
That concludes the part with Matt as the main focus, for now at least.
I hope that you liked how he slowly learns how to be a decent human being!Next chapter there'll be some change of POV and scenery.
Chapter Text
Reading Scott's notes about his first life was both painful and eye-opening, enlightening even. Page after page Deucalion delved deeper into Scott's memories: from the discovery that werewolves were real and learning to find his way in this strange new world, finding new friends and allies in most unexpected places and forming a pack consisting of both humans and supernatural creatures, and finally losing them one by one, until no one was left for Scott to share his grief with.
That future world, it was already lost. Was their own timeline doomed to follow in its footsteps and repeat the same mistakes?... He dearly hoped that was not the case, as their paths had already diverged from the events Scott had gone through, their relationship was the best example of that. But was it enough to prevent the carnage that had happened the first time around? Only the future could provide answers for that question.
He sighed, being a lover to a time traveling Alpha werewolf on a mission to save the world wasn't easy, but he wouldn't trade it for anything. He missed Scott awfully as if he was missing a limb, and the intensity with which he yearned for his young lover sometimes terrified him. He wasn't used to being so dependent on anyone and wondered why his inner wolf wasn't rebelling against it, but somehow the animal side of him was always calm and content in Scott’s presence. He decided to take it as a good sign and a proof that he wasn’t any less of an Alpha just because he finally found someone to love.
Putting the notes away, he stood up and stretched, then went to the kitchen. The twins were already there, bending over a huge bowl of ice cream, Aiden munching on the strawberry part while Ethan happily took ownership of the chocolate half. When they heard him coming into the kitchen, they straightened almost simultaneously with identical, guilty expressions on their faces.
Deucalion raised his eyebrow, they were supposed to be preparing dinner, not stuff themselves with sweets like five-year-olds, but he didn't have the heart to chastise them, not now, while he was still reeling after reading about their deaths.
"We're sorry," Ethan mumbled, embarrassed.
"I'm going to let it slide, under one condition-" he said sternly, enjoying seeing them fidget uneasily, "I want my share of that ice cream."
The twins looked at him in shock, then Aiden handed him a fresh spoon with a bemused expression, as if he wasn't entirely sure if Deucalion wasn't having them on. He smirked as he took the offered spoon, it felt good to surprise them from time to time, he would hate to become predictable.
For a long moment they ate in silence, it wasn't too awkward but not entirely comfortable either. It was Ethan who spoke up first.
"How is Scott doing?" he asked quietly, as if testing the waters. "Did he ask about us?"
"He's fine, and he wants us to join his next pack meeting." Deucalion realized that he had yet to tell the twins about the fact that Scott wasn't exactly a sixteen year old and that he had already lived one life before.
"Really?" Ethan brightened. "That's awesome! But… are we even allowed to do that?" When Deucalion looked at him questioningly, he added: "Aren't there any rules against packs meeting with each other?"
Deucalion frowned, it seemed that he'd neglected their education when it came to the supernatural world.
"When packs are allied, they would usually hold at least some of the meetings together, mainly to maintain good relations and to update each other on everything that happened in the meantime. Even neutral packs would sometimes meet, especially when an external party was posing a threat to all werewolves," he explained. He didn't add that it usually meant an increased hunters' activity, but then again, he didn't have to, the twins were bright enough to put two and two together.
"Are we allied with Scott's pack now?"
Deucalion considered Aiden's question for a moment. "Of course- well, not officially, not yet at least. I'd say that's what the meeting will be for, to have us all introduced properly to each other."
Aiden opened his mouth to say something when Deucalion raised his hand warningly, hearing quiet footsteps getting closer to their apartment. Tensing up a little, he went to the hall, the boys trailing after him.
He caught Kali's scent a second before she opened the door and walked in looking slightly unkempt, her hair and clothes covered in dust. She stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of him, but set her jaw defiantly as she said:
"Don't worry, I'll be out of your hair soon, I only wanted to get my stuff before leaving for good."
He blinked, taken aback by her gruff tone. He wasn't all that surprised that she wanted to leave the pack, but rather that she'd made her decision so abruptly, without even talking to him. He knew that things between them were tense ever since she and Ennis had planned to kill him, but even though he found trusting her again difficult, it didn't exactly mean that he wanted to get rid of her. He had been wondering where she had been the last few days and even started to worry for her, but it seemed that he needn't have bothered.
"If it's about Scott-" he started, but she interrupted him.
"Why does everything need to be about Scott bloody McCall? No, it's not about your teenage lover, though I still think your infatuation with him is ridiculous," she snapped. "No, it's about me. Nothing holds me here, after all I joined your pack for Ennis, much good did it do to me, though. But now that he's gone, I have no reason to stay."
She ignored the twins' hurt expressions and went to her room. He followed her and watched as she started to pack hastily, dumping clothes and toiletries in her travelling bag without a care. It wasn't long before she closed the zipper, threw the bag strap over her shoulder and turned to leave.
"Do you need some cash?" he asked, he was holding all the pack's money in his bank account, after all.
She stiffened for a second, her pride warring in her with pragmatism. "Once I manage to find my feet again, I'll pay you back," she finally said.
"Of course," he said neutrally, not wanting to insult her by saying that she didn't have to. He went to get his wallet and handed her a wad of cash, a couple hundreds of bucks by the look of it. It should help to get her started her new life or whatever she wanted to do with herself. "Be careful out there," he warned her.
She smiled bitterly. "I'm still an Alpha werewolf, remember? I can take of yourself, and I'm not afraid of some dumb hunters."
"I'm not talking about hunters. There is someone who wants revenge on you and me, someone from our past…" how was he supposed to say that her former lover she'd once scorned and chosen Ennis instead wasn't as dead as they'd all thought?
"Who?"
"Julia," he revealed reluctantly.
Her face turned ashen in a second, her eyes full of hurt disbelief. "That's impossible, you're lying," she accused, though the words came out weak.
"Scott showed me his memories, it's her, though she has to resort to animal sacrifice to hide horrific scars on her face. She's hurt, she’s disfigured and the only thing she wants is revenge. So whatever you have planned, please be careful."
She swallowed heavily, then nodded. Without another word, she turned around and left, closing the door behind her.
For a moment he felt their packbond shaking, as if put under too much strain, and then it snapped with a finality that would have left him reeling if it wasn't for the fact that their link was already weakened by her earlier betrayal. Still, he couldn't help letting out a quiet gasp as he clutched his chest, trying to rub the phantom pain away.
"Are you alright?" Aiden asked, while Ethan watched worriedly.
Deucalion looked the twins in the eyes and saw only concern for him, that and sorrow because of a packmate leaving so abruptly and without showing a care for their feelings. Kali should’ve said something to the boys, he realized, anything, even a simple goodbye would have been better than just leaving without a word.
"Come here," he murmured. When they got closer, he put his hands on the back of their necks and rubbed them in what he hoped was a comforting manner. "You're good lads," he said awkwardly, not used to showing his emotions so openly. But the way they leaned into his touch assured him that he was doing something right, for once.
"You won't leave us like that, will you?" Ethan asked quietly, while Aiden added: "What you said to Kali about Julia, was that true?"
"No, I won't leave you, and yes, it's all true, you can ask Scott if you want to know more details," he took a deep breath. "Speaking about Scott, let's sit down, I need to tell you something important..."
He hoped that hearing about Scott’s time travel would take away their minds from the fact that they had just been abandoned by a packmate.
***
A teenage girl struggled with each step, the short chain linking manacles on her feet making it difficult to walk. Being constantly pushed forward by two burly men didn't help either, and a couple of times she would have lost her footing if it wasn't for their rough hands keeping her upright.
Finally, they shoved her too hard and didn't manage to catch her on time. Since her wrists were handcuffed as well, she fell down, the left side of her face connecting with the ground with a loud thud. When they rolled her to the side, the bruise was already forming on her forehead and the skin on her cheek was scraped and bleeding slightly.
"Stupid bitch," one thug cursed as he grabbed her and put her to her feet again with a grunt. "Gerard said he wanted her in one piece-"
Seeing that he was distracted, she decided to seize her chance. She moved with inhuman speed, grabbed a gun from the man's holster and shot him in the abdomen, but didn't manage to do anything else as the other man took out his gun and sent a bullet her way, then another, for good measure.
For a moment she stood still, as if surprised, and then her body crumbled to the ground. There were two gaping holes in her body, one in her chest and another in her forehead, and blood slowly started to trickle down her fair skin. Her eyes flickered for a moment with a golden yellow light, then the glow disappeared, and her eyes stilled, lifeless and unseeing.
***
In the town nearby another girl woke up with a gasp, her body shaking and covered with cold sweat, her strawberry blond hair tangled and sticking to her damp forehead.
She took a deep breath and screamed, the power of her voice shaking the foundations of her house, the vibrations caused by her scream travelling even further, deep into the ground and down the telluric currents that connected all places of power.
Underneath the stump that was once a Nemeton, a being stirred, awakening.
Chapter Text
When Lydia called him in the evening and in a breaking voice told him about her dream, a cold shiver went down Scott's spine and a feeling of dread settled in his stomach.
This was it, wasn’t it? The starting point of a war, even though the seeds had been sown much earlier. Was it the Hale house fire that had started all of this? Was it Deucalion? But no, the hatred between werewolves and hunters was much, much older than Talia’s generation. But if it had started so long ago, how could he ever hope to end it?...
He shook himself, trying to focus on the here and now as he wondered who the hunters’ latest victim was.
"Can you describe her?" he asked once he managed to calm Lydia down a little.
"Lean and fit, though dressed rather shabbily, as if she didn't care about her looks."
Even though he was worried as hell, he couldn't help but smile a little. Trust Lydia to always put an emphasis on someone's style. "What about her looks, age, any distinguishing marks?"
"Long brown hair, glowing yellow eyes, she didn't wear any jewelry that I could see. As for her age, I'd say around seventeen, maybe eighteen years old. Scott, what I saw in my dream… Is she really dead?"
Brown hair matched Malia, but the eye color and age didn't, so he allowed himself to relax a little.
"Banshee's dreams aren't premonitions, they usually show the present or the events that have recently occured, so yes, the girl is probably dead," he explained quietly. "I'm sorry, I should have prepared you better for this, but Nemeton is not a safe place to be, not yet. I'm working on it though, I promise."
"You better be," Lydia said bossily, though her voice trembled a little, "my mom was terrified when I woke up screaming. She's worried enough because of my irregular sleeping hours, so this needs to stop or she'll send me to the Eichen House for treatment."
"I won't let that happen, I swear. Try to get some sleep, I'll contact other packs to check if any girl went missing."
"Alright, see you tomorrow. But remember, I expect a full report on what you've managed to find out."
"Yes ma'am," he said obligingly, he knew better than to cross Lydia after a Banshee episode, especially such a violent one.
He wondered who the mysterious girl was and why Gerard had seemed to have targeted her. What the man was playing at? Knowing Gerard, it couldn't be anything good. But no matter what it was, he needed to warn others, though first he needed to take care of his own.
He called Peter and asked without preamble: "Is Malia with you?"
Sensing the urgency in his voice, Peter didn't respond with his usual sarcasm. "Yes, she’s in another room. Why?"
Scott exhaled deeply with relief. "Lydia had a vision of a teenage female werewolf being killed by Gerard's men."
"Damn it. But no, it's not Malia, thankfully."
"You need to tell her about her parentage, and soon," Scott warned him. "If Gerard gets a whiff of her existence, she might be targeted, so it's better that she hears this from you rather than stay oblivious."
"I know. I tried to delay this as long as I could, but you're right, as usual. Which starts to get repetitive, so try to be wrong for once," Peter added wryly.
"When it comes to predicting bad things. I'll happily accept being wrong," he said sincerely. "Just… stay safe, alright? I'd hate to see either of you getting hurt. And please warn Derek about Gerard, I'll try to contact Satomi’s pack in the meantime."
"Will do. And take care of yourself too, I might be an Alpha but I don't want to end up babysitting the kids if something happens to you."
Scott smiled. He knew that despite his words, if the need arose, Peter would accept the responsibility of replacing him as the pack's Alpha and would take care of their patchwork family as best as he could. For all his cutting remarks, Peter wasn't the pack’s uncle for nothing, he was very protective by nature, especially of the young ones.
Once they finished talking, Scott searched the contacts in his phone for Brett's number, when he realized that he didn't have it. He’d only offered the teen his own number but not the other way around, so he texted Liam, hoping that he would have it.
The boy replied almost instantly: Yup, I'll send it to you in a minute. Did something happen?
Scott bit his lower lip. Should he tell Liam the truth? The boy was so young still, was he ready to be told about the less glamorous parts of being a werewolf? On the other hand, how could he expect Liam to accept the bite without knowing everything it entailed?
I just want to make sure that his pack is alright. I’ll tell you more next time we see each other, I promise, he texted back.
Liam’s next message included Brett’s phone number and a short: I miss you.
Damn, he had really neglected his future Betas, hadn’t he? He hated the fact that he couldn’t spend as much time with Liam and Jackson as he liked, and swore to himself to put more effort into staying in contact. He knew that his time in the past was getting short and he wanted to make the most of it.
I miss you too, kiddo. I’ll drop by your flat sometime this week, alright?
Awesome, can’t wait!
Liam’s excitement warmed his heart and soothed the anxiety he felt after being told about Lydia’s vision. Even if he couldn’t save everyone, at least he’d managed to do some things right, including forming a pack that was the very reason he had decided to travel to the past in the first place, no matter the price. These people, both human and supernatural, were his family, and he would do everything in his power to keep them safe, by any means necessary.
If Gerard and his thugs thought that they could get away with murdering werewolves, he fully intended to disabuse them from that notion. He would play their game but he didn’t plan on playing nice nor fair, not this time.
***
Gerard looked at two dead bodies with a scowl. He didn't care about the hunter, because why would he? The man had been bested by a teenage girl, so apparently he hadn't been a good werewolf hunter material. It was hard to find good fighters these days, the new recruits were all pansies, either too stupid or too weak to do what needed to be done.
The girl on the other hand... He had wanted to use her as a bargaining chip to force her brother to give him the bite, but since she was dead he was now forced to change his plans. Still, he grinned viciously as he imagined the devastated expression on Derek's face once the werewolf realized that his precious sister was dead. It was a sight he didn't want to miss and he planned to enjoy every damn second of it.
The Hales were always a thorn in his side, that's why a few years back he had talked Kate into wiping them off the face of the earth, hoping to be done with them for good. It appeared that they were like cockroaches, though, you could crush a bunch of them under your heel and even more would crawl from dank, filthy holes they called houses.
Grimacing, he took out a zip bag and an old folding knife out of his pocket and squatted beside the dead girl, then started to cut off her claws before putting them into the bag. His mace could use some refurbishing, after all… When he was done, he wiped his soiled, bloodied hands into the girl's blouse, then ordered his men to cut the body in half and bury it in the woods. Better to be safe than sorry, since these beasts had an irritating habit of not staying dead when they bloody well should.
Once he was done with the girl, he straightened up and went to his car, analyzing everything he knew about the situation in Beacon Hills as he walked.
Some of the hunters that had previously followed Chris and Victoria had recently sought him out, wanting to join his group instead. When he had asked them why, they had complained about poor leadership and change of policies. Apparently, Chris had forbidden all werewolf hunts, which was unthinkable and in the eyes of many, outrageous. In all honesty, Gerard wasn't much surprised to hear it, his son had always been too soft for this job. Still, he hoped that marrying Victoria had cured Chris of his unmanliness and soft heart, but apparently that wasn't the case. What worried him more than Chris' wrong decision making, though, was the fact that Victoria had allowed it to happen.
It's been a while since he had heard from her, which was worrying. The last time Victoria had reported anything of substance was when the Alpha that had been murdering people in Beacon Hills had been killed by Derek Hale who had become an Alpha in his place, and afterwards when she had claimed that Allison's friend was in fact a True Alpha. After that, the reports Victoria had given him were clipped and few and far between.
Recently, he'd also heard rumors that the Calaveras were seen in Beacon Hills. For what purpose, he wondered, and why wasn't he notified of their visit? Were they here because of the supposed True Alpha? But surely that was a mistake, the boy was much too young for that, all the historical records he'd read were consistent on that part: becoming a True Alpha required an unparalleled strength of will which a mere teenager simply wouldn't possess. Still, he knew better than to underestimate the enemy, so if there was even a slim chance that Victoria was right, he needed to investigate this. Not to mention, the idea of getting his hands on a True Alpha excited him, and in all honesty, nowadays very few things did.
The prospect of playing with such a rare specimen made his heart beat faster and he felt an unexpected adrenaline rush just from imagining it. The only thing he needed to do was to discover the boy’s weak spot, and he knew from experience that everyone had one; press it hard enough, and even a toughest beast becomes malleable and docile. He could even change his initial plans a little and demand the bite from the True Alpha, then kill him to absorb his power… Yes, that sounded perfect.
He grinned to himself as he started to drive, it was high time he visited his son and daughter-in-law.
Chapter Text
After a busy day at work Chris was glad to be driving home at last. He had just secured a lucrative contract with the LA Police Department for a large weapons delivery, a contract which he had been working on the past couple of weeks. He had used the competitive bidding process as a distraction from his failure of a marriage, and buried himself under a pile of paperwork just so that he didn't have to think about everything that had gone wrong between him and Victoria. So instead of lamenting his nonexisting love life, he had focused on proving the weapons performance, low defective rate, as well as his past experience with handling large governmental orders.
Needless to say, all his hard work in addition to the competitive prices he'd offered had paid off and won him the bid. Too bad that he wasn't that successful in his private life, though… He shook his head, he didn't want to wallow in self pity, he had a wonderful daughter, and had found true friends in most unlikely of people, so he counted himself a lucky man. And even if he felt lonely at times, well, it was a small price to pay for being free to finally live his life as he wanted, without the pressure of an authoritative father and a domineering wife.
Well, a wife who wasn’t so domineering anymore. Ever since Scott and Derek had saved Allison, Victoria had been strangely silent and subdued, which was unlike her. She was more reflective now and prone to long periods of silence instead of heated arguments and general overbearing attitude. It was obvious that the Calaveras’ visit and everything that had happened while they were in Beacon Hills had shaken her quite badly and changed her black-and-white view of the world.
What surprised him even more, though, was her changed attitude towards their divorce.
“You pointed your gun at me,” she had said coldly, accusatively when the Calaveras were gone and Allison was recuperating in her room. He had tried to explain himself then, but she had brushed his words off. “I understand why you did it, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m your wife and the mother of your daughter, and you still held me at gunpoint.”
He had fallen silent then, not knowing what to say anymore, because she was right. What was even worse, he would do it again if he was once more forced to choose between her and his friends.
“I want divorce,” she’d said bluntly when his silence had started to become unbearable. “Let’s settle and finally be done with it. I hate this weird state of limbo of being your wife in name only.”
He remembered that he had nodded then, but hadn’t said anything. What was he supposed to say, anyway? ‘Thank you, I appreciate it’? Does one even thank his spouse for agreeing to divorce? He didn’t know what was considered polite behaviour in regards to splitting up, it’s not like he had done this before. So in the end, he had stayed silent, and during the next few days they had worked out the details of their divorce, like the division of property, Allison’s custody, parenting time or education expenses. The moment they had signed the settlement agreement seemed so final, even though they still needed to wait an additional month for the judge to sign the documents before their marriage was officially terminated.
Unexpectedly, while Victoria had insisted on joint custody, she had agreed that Allison should live with him. When he had asked her about it, his soon-to-be ex-wife had replied with painful honesty that it’s what Allison wanted and that she didn’t want to go against her daughter’s wishes. It was a surprisingly thoughtful and considerate attitude, especially considering the fact that it was coming from Victoria, the woman who was famous among the hunters for her no-nonsense attitude. It also spoke volumes about how much she had changed in such a short period of time, even though in the end it wasn’t enough to save their marriage.
The next day after signing the settlement agreement, Victoria had packed her things and moved out of their house.
Remembering that moment caused his hands to shake a little, so he pulled over to the side of the road and turned off the engine. He didn’t expect to feel pain after her leaving, but maybe he should have. Despite the fact that he never truly loved Victoria, she had been an integral part of his life for almost twenty years. Their split up had left a hole in him, not quite a heartbreak, but something painful nevertheless. A sense of emptiness, perhaps, one he wasn’t prepared for.
He had expected their divorce to be difficult because of the legal struggles, since he had assumed that Victoria would contest his every suggestion, but he had never thought that he would actually miss her. Not as a wife, certainly, not even as a friend since they weren’t even that, but as someone he had known for his entire adult life. No matter how many differences there were between them, It wasn’t easy to cut her off so abruptly.
He gripped the steering wheel tightly for a moment, before he took out his phone and called her on an impulse.
“Chris?” She cleared her throat. “Is Allison okay?”
“Yes, she’s fine,” he assured her.
“Alright, why did you call me then?” She sounded almost as awkward as he was feeling.
“I was wondering, what do you think about a family dinner? I can call Allison and ask her to order something for the four of us.”
“Four? Who’s the fourth person?” She asked suspiciously.
“Isaac, ever since Allison was shot they’ve been practically inseparable.”
That wasn’t an exaggeration on his part, by now the boy had become a permanent guest in their house and Chris seriously considered giving him his own bedroom just so he could stop changing sheets every time Isaac visited.
“That kid hates my guts for using a taser on his ex-boyfriend,” Victoria reminded him.
“True, but he’s reasonable and can stay civil for Allison’s sake.”
“Alright then, I’ll be there within an hour,” she agreed, then disconnected abruptly.
Well, it seemed that the mission was accomplished, he thought to himself with mixed feelings. It was easy to miss Victoria when she was away, but it was a completely different matter to actually be in her presence. He could only hope that his wish to stay in touch with her would not backfire on him.
***
As expected, dinner was an incredibly awkward affair. They all struggled to find neutral topics to talk about and avoid mentioning either hunters or werewolves, which was quite difficult to accomplish, especially considering how huge a part of their lives the supernatural world had become. Finally, it was Allison who had enough of the stilted conversation.
“Could we please stop trying to pretend that we’re an ordinary family and acknowledge that we’re anything but?” she asked bluntly. “This dancing around supernatural topics is just silly.”
“We didn't want you or Isaac to feel uncomfortable,” Chris explained.
“But it’s not like avoiding talking about things will make them go away,” Allison argued.
Isaac nodded in agreement. “All three of us, we’re a part of Scott’s pack now, so-” He didn’t get to finish his sentence, as the doorbell rang suddenly.
Chris shared a look with Victoria, and she shook her head, indicating that she didn’t expect anyone either. “I’ll check it,” he said.
When he opened the door, for a moment he stood frozen in place as he saw his father standing on the doorstep as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
It certainly wasn’t. His father hadn’t cared to visit them for years, to the point that Allison probably didn’t remember him, seeing as the last time she had seen him was when she was three years old. After all, hunting werewolves had always been way more important to Gerard than keeping in touch with his son or the rest of his family. Not that Chris truly minded, as his relationship with the man was turbulent at best, and he was secretly glad that up until now, Allison had been free of Gerard’s influence.
“What are you doing here?” he managed to ask once he finally gathered his bearings.
“Is this a way to greet your father?” Gerard commented with a raised eyebrow. “I was in the neighborhood and decided to visit my family, that’s all.”
That was, of course, a bold-faced lie. His father rarely did anything that didn’t benefit him in some way, so he must want something, but what it could be, he had absolutely no idea. Before he could come up with a response that wouldn’t sound too rude, Gerard already entered the house, as if automatically assuming that he was welcome, or not caring if that truly was the case.
Chris stifled a curse under his breath and closed the door, then followed him to the dining room.
“Hello Victoria, long time no see. And this must be little Allison, well not as little as I remember you being from the last time we saw each other... I’m your grandpa, but you may call me Gerard.”
Allison greeted him with a quiet: “Hello,” and the man’s focus moved to Isaac.
“And who might you be, young man?”
Isaac surprised them all by standing up abruptly. “You’re Gerard Argent?” the teen asked with a strange emphasis in his voice, and Chris immediately stiffened. The last few months he had gotten to know Isaac quite well, he had seen the boy happy, angry, sad and even in pain, but he had never heard this tone from him, not even when Isaac had been furious with him after he had learned that Chris had hurt Scott.
“I am. I assume that you’ve heard about me, then?” Gerard’s eyes gleamed with calculating interest, though he still kept up the genial facade.
Isaac didn’t reply to him, but turned to Chris, instead.
“Either he leaves, or I will,” he demanded, clenching his fists hard.
“What, why?”
“He’s a murderer,” Isaac said quietly, intently, making Allison gasp in shock. “He has not only killed werewolves, but other hunters as well. He can’t be trusted.”
For a moment, Chris could only gap at him wordlessly.
“Well, this is interesting,” Gerard said with a smile that was full of teeth, then took out a gun out of his holster and pointed it at the boy. “It seems that someone has been spouting lies about me… We’re going to have a nice, long conversation, you and I.”
Chapter Text
Chris blinked, he couldn’t believe that his father would threaten a teenage boy.
“Put your gun down, for God’s sake!”
“You’re not in charge here,” Gerard sneered, not taking eyes off Isaac. “You invited one of these beasts into your home and you dare to tell me to step down?”
Chris was confused for a moment. “You think that Isaac… He’s not a werewolf, he’s a human, so stop it!”
“He knows about werewolves and he’s clearly in league with them, so that’s even worse!” his father bellowed. “You ain’t got no balls, that’s clear as day, so someone needs to step up and clear this mess."
He gritted his teeth, it was always like that with Gerard, snide jabs and cutting remarks, but what concerned him more than his wounded pride was the gun still pointed at Isaac. Could he disarm his father quickly enough, before the man had the chance to pull the trigger?
As if reading his mind, Gerard warned: "Don't move a muscle or the kid gets a bullet to the head. And he better start talking, my patience is running thin."
He looked at Victoria, hoping that she would take his side, but she shook her head. "Look, I'm not happy with Gerard's methods but he's right, Isaac should explain himself."
"Mom!" Allison protested, outraged.
"It's okay, I'll talk," Isaac straightened, though he still looked shaken. "He's got this mace spiked with claws, which he uses to kill people and frame werewolves for murder. That's what happened when Deucalion was blinded, the hunters who died then were killed by Gerard."
"That's preposterous!" the man spluttered. "Listen kid, you weren't there, I was, and I barely got out alive of that ambush. My people weren't so lucky, though, as they were hacked into pieces by Deucalion's pack."
Chris looked between Isaac and his father, feeling torn. Who was lying and who was telling the truth, here? Gerard had a point, there were no witnesses beside him and Deucalion, and he wouldn't trust either of them.
"Isaac, how do you know about all of this?" he asked softly. "Did Deucalion speak about it when he kidnapped you, Jackson and Lydia?"
"What? No, of course not, he didn't talk to us. It was Scott who told me what really happened."
Chris exhaled deeply, this changed the matter completely. He had learned to trust Scott explicitly, and knowing that the teen was a time traveller made it easier for him to believe that he would know more about certain events than anyone else.
"Who's Scott?" Gerard pressed.
"He's the True Alpha that I told you about," Victoria explained. "He and Isaac were together at some point."
Chris frowned, he suspected that his wife was in contact with his father, but he wasn't aware that she had been passing information to him. He wondered how well informed the man was, then, and how many secrets Victoria had already revealed to him.
"Well, if he's spreading lies about me, then I want to meet him, face to face," when Gerard saw that Chris looked hesitant, he added: "Right now, or I'll shoot the kid for fraternizing with the enemy."
***
The moment he picked up the call from Chris and heard that Gerard was in Beacon Hills, Scott knew that the time of peace was now over. What he didn't expect was for the man to openly reveal his true nature, and he wondered what had caused Gerard to abandon the pretence of being a harmless old man so quickly. The only thing that came to his mind was that the man must have felt threatened and reacted with violence like a cornered animal. But what could have triggered such a reaction?
Then Chris revealed that Gerard was threatening Isaac with a gun and for a split second Scott saw red.
"And he said that he wants to see me? Well, then he's going to get his wish, tell him that I'm coming," he said darkly. "Just don't let Isaac get hurt. I'll be there as soon as I can."
Once he finished talking with Chris, he immediately called Derek and Peter and told them what was happening, then asked them to come and listen in from the outside, but not enter the Argents' house unless things got violent. After all, he didn't want Gerard to get trigger-happy once he saw more werewolves.
He hesitated for a moment, then called Deucalion.
"I'm going to see Gerard," he said bluntly, feeling that the time was getting short and that he couldn't stall any longer, he needed to leave soon.
"What, Scott, you can't-"
"I have to, he's taken Isaac hostage and is threatening to kill him if I don't come. I'm sorry," he choked out mournfully, his throat tightening. "If something happens to me- Damn, this is hard. I didn't expect to fall in love with you, you know? But I did, and I want you to know that."
He hated the fact that he was forced to tell this to Deucalion over the phone, he wanted to do it properly, in person, and his hatred towards Gerard grew even more. This man had robbed him of everything that ever mattered to him, and now managed to spoil even this precious moment.
"I fell in love with you the moment I saw you for the first time," Deucalion said quietly. "So don't shut me out, tell me where you're going, please."
Scott exhaled with a whoosh. "Alright, I'll text you the address. Just, don't enter the house unless there's no other option, alright? I don't want Gerard to target you too."
"Thank you. Now go and save your friend."
For a moment, Scott closed his eyes, fighting back tears, then took a deep breath. Deucalion was right, he had a task and he would see it through. He was an Alpha, and it was high time he proved it.
***
When the front door opened and Scott walked in, Chris didn't know if he should feel nervous or relieved. One part of him was happy that Scott was here, and it was the part that considered the teen his Alpha, someone he had willingly chosen to follow. That side of him hoped that Scott would know what to do, and that the teen had an ace hidden up his sleeve. The other part of him, the one that saw Scott simply as a friend, was deeply worried and protective of the boy and he wished that he could have dealt with Gerard without getting him involved.
Seeing Scott, his father grabbed Isaac and held the boy in front of him, pressing the gun into the back of his head and ignoring Allison's quiet sobs.
"One wrong move, wolf, and the kid dies," Gerard warned.
Scott raised his shaking hands up in surrender, looking impossibly young. "Please, I'll do everything you want, just don’t hurt him," he begged.
Chris swallowed hard, hoping that it was just an act designed to fool Gerard into dropping his guard down. Still, seeing Scott so vulnerable hit him hard, it wasn't a sight he wanted to see ever again.
"You're an Alpha? What a joke," his father sneered. "Show me your red eyes, then."
Obligingly, Scott's eyes flashed red, and Gerard grinned viciously.
"Good, I needed to make sure it wasn't just a hoax... Let's make a deal, wolf. If you give me the bite, I'll let your friend go."
What? Chris couldn't believe his ears. He thought that all of this was about getting his father's name cleared of Isaac's accusations, not this. Why did Gerard, the ruthless werewolf hunter who was famous for his no-mercy policy and for insisting that every hunter who got bitten commited suicide, was now asking to be turned into a werewolf? It was unthinkable.
Apparently, he wasn't the only one who was shocked by the demand, as he heard Victoria's sharp intake of breath. The only person who didn't look surprised, though, was Scott.
"I'll do it, I swear, just promise that once I give you the bite, you'll release Isaac."
"You have my word," Gerard said magnanimously.
Scott nodded, then walked up to him slowly. "Give me your forearm," he instructed quietly.
Gerard did as he was told and held his left arm up while still pressing the gun into the back of Isaac's head with his right hand.
"Don't try anything, or I'll shoot," he warned.
"I'm only going to bite you, just as you want," Scott assured as his canine teeth lengthened. He then took Gerard's forearm, leaned down and pierced the skin with his fangs.
Chris shuddered at the sight, this couldn't be happening, his father couldn't become a werewolf, surely the bite won’t take…
"Ahhh yes, I can feel it," Gerard grinned with triumph, then a moment later his face contorted strangely and he fell down to his knees, the gun dropping to the floor with a thud as he started to moan in pain, clutching at his head.
The moment he was no longer held at gunpoint, Isaac scrambled away, and Chris quickly caught him, then drew into a hug which the boy returned desperately, his body still trembling from fear and stress. The next moment Allison joined them, and he had his arms full of two frightened teenagers.
"What's happening to him?" Victoria asked curiously, watching Gerard who was writhing on the floor. She didn't make any move to help him, though, so that was something, at least. For a moment he was afraid that she would take his father's side, after all.
Scott straightened, his posture no longer hunched over and submissive. "What do you know about the bonds between Alphas and Betas?" he asked instead, watching the moaning man with gleaming eyes, and it was the first time Chris saw this impression on his face. It looked almost… bloodthirsty.
"The stronger the emotional connection, the deeper the links go," Victoria replied, looking intrigued.
"That's correct," Scott nodded. "Apparently, it doesn't need to be love, hatred can do as well. And there’s no one else in the entire world who I hate more than him."
For a moment Chris was stunned, as then the realization dawned on him. He released Isaac and Allison from his hold and whispered: "You're torturing him through your link.”
“I am,” Scott confirmed and looked him in the eye, his red irises blazing.
Chris swallowed with difficulty. He didn’t know what to feel, how to tell right from wrong anymore. This was his father, and even if he wasn’t, he was still a living human being, and the mere idea of torturing someone made him sick to his stomach. On the other hand though, he knew that Gerard had no qualms about capturing and killing werewolves, and if Isaac’s words were true, also ordinary people.
“Could you stop for a moment, please?” he asked tentatively. “I want to hear him confess before you punish him.”
Scott regarded him thoughtfully, then nodded. “Alright, I have some questions for him anyway. But first, make sure that he has no other weapon on him. I wouldn’t put it past him to have another gun hidden somewhere.”
It was an order if he ever heard one, but he didn’t mind obeying, grateful for the fact that even after seeing Isaac threatened, Scott wasn’t consumed by his hatred and could still be reasoned with. So even if he was more ruthless than Chris expected, it proved that he was still the boy he had grown to love and admire, and he could only hope that it won't ever change.
Chapter 131
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
While Chris was getting Gerard restrained and making sure that he wasn't armed, Scott turned to Isaac, who was still slightly pale. Wordlessly, he held out his arms and the boy reacted at once, falling into his embrace with a relieved sigh.
"I'm sorry," Isaac mumbled into the base of his neck. "I should've kept my mouth shut…"
"Nothing that happened today is your fault," he assured the boy. "Even if you didn't provoke him, Gerard would've found another way to get the bite, it was his plan all along. So don't go blaming yourself for any of this, alright?"
Isaac nodded and Scott tightened their embrace for a moment before he reluctantly let him go.
"Could you do me a favor and fetch Peter and Derek? They should be waiting outside. Deucalion too, if he's already there."
Isaac made a face once he heard about Deucalion, but didn't comment and simply nodded. Scott exhaled with relief, glad that the boy seemed to be mostly okay beside being slightly shaken. He looked around and saw that Allison was in the middle of a quiet but intense argument with Victoria who - from what he was able to discern from their conversation - wanted the girl to leave the room and let the adults handle this.
"Victoria's right, you know," he commented as he walked up to them. "You've witnessed enough violence for one day, so I'd feel better if you and Isaac stayed in your room until Gerard’s taken care of. Can you do that for me?"
The girl pouted with disappointment but eventually agreed, so he gave her hand a grateful squeeze.
“I didn’t expect you to ever agree with me,” Victoria said quietly as they both watched Allison go upstairs.
“We don’t usually see eye to eye about, well, almost everything,” he admitted, “but I know that you’re protective of Allison and I respect that. For all your faults, you really care about her, but as much as it may pain you to admit it, so do I.”
The woman pressed her lips tightly and gave a short nod, more of an acknowledgement than a true agreement, but he decided to take it as a good sign. It seemed that she was finally learning to be a decent human being... even if she did it at a glacial pace.
***
When Deucalion received the message from Scott with the Argents' address, he only stopped to tell the twins where he was going, then left their apartment in a hurry, his heart beating unnaturally fast, even for a werewolf.
He didn't know which feeling was stronger: exhilaration over the fact that he and Scott had admitted their feelings for each other, or dread that Scott was in real danger. He was still feeling giddy disbelief over the fact that he was truly loved, but with Gerard in the picture, he knew that it might soon be over and he would be left alone, again. He didn't know if he could go on without Scott in his life, but he reminded himself that sooner or later, he'll be forced to, whether he was ready or not.
He drove in a haze, his mind conjuring visions of Scott's body riddled with bullet wounds or lying on the ground with his throat sliced wide open. He told himself that it wasn't real, that Scott's life couldn't possibly end so quickly and abruptly, without any sort of closure, and that it was only fear playing with his mind and making him go crazy when he should try to stay calm and composed instead.
When he arrived, he saw that Scott's packmates were already there, waiting in tense silence. He joined them hesitantly, not knowing if his presence was welcome, but to his relief Derek nodded in greeting, so he mimicked the gesture while trying to hide his uneasiness. He didn't get the chance to say anything, though, as the door opened and Scott's ex-boyfriend invited them in.
"Hey, are you alright?" Peter asked as he ruffled Isaac's hair and put an arm around his shoulders.
"'m fine," Isaac mumbled. "I just wish that people stopped using me to get to Scott, it makes me feel guilty that he has to come to the rescue each time it happens."
Deucalion suppressed a guilty flinch, knowing perfectly well that the boy was alluding to his earlier kidnapping. It wasn't an easy recollection for him either, as the beating he had received that day and later lying on the hospital bed and waiting for his arm and leg to be amputated were one of the worst memories in his entire life.
There was one memory that was even worse than all of them combined, though, and it was the memory of Gerard killing off his Betas and then blinding him with a flippant smile, as if it was only a joke to him, a prank he did because he was bored and wanted to have some fun at someone else’s expense. That's why once he saw the man bound to a chair, he exhaled with relief and felt his shoulders relaxing slightly.
He took his eyes off Gerard to look at his lover, and was vividly reminded that between the two of them, it was Scott who was stronger in almost every way. The teen’s eyes were blazing, the Alpha red almost pulsating with power and reminding everyone of a wild animal hiding beneath the human exterior.
Well, power was always his greatest temptation and this hadn't changed with time, so without thinking he pulled Scott into an open-mouthed kiss, ignoring the Argents’ quiet gasps. He felt his lover’s fangs graze his lips, making a small wound which healed instantly, but it was enough to leave a taste of blood in their mouths.
He certainly didn't mind.
***
When the pain came, it filled out his entire world. Somewhere in the conscious, rational part of his mind Gerard was aware that it wasn't physical and that his body was unharmed - well, not counting the cancer eating it slowly from the inside. But this new torment was different, it easily bypassed his defences, the distraction techniques and high pain tolerance he had acquired over the years, and went straight to his mind.
It was agony, cutting, piercing and mangling him at the same time, and for the longest time it was all that he could feel. That, and the crushing feeling of… was it hate? But if it was, it wasn't his. For all the contempt and disgust he usually felt towards werewolves, this kind of deep, targeted hatred was alien to him. After all, these beasts didn't deserve to be the recipient of something so personal.
And what he was feeling now... It was personal as fuck.
When the pain finally stopped, he felt as if he was run over by a herd of animals. He suppressed a groan while looking around in a daze, and realized that he was sitting on a chair with his hands and feet bound tightly with duct tape. If only he was alone, he would be able to get free within minutes, since each hunter knew by heart the methods of breaking free from various kinds of restraints. But he wasn't alone, he was surrounded by enemies… including his own son.
"Joining the enemy camp now, Chris?" he sneered. "I expected better from you."
"You're the one to talk, it wasn't I who demanded to be bitten by a werewolf."
Gerard was about to respond when three werewolves entered the room, their eyes gleaming with unnatural light that he hated so much.
He ignored the Hales for the time being as he couldn't tear his eyes from the man who was supposed to be blind. He would know, he had blown holes in Deucalion's eyes himself, and damn if that wasn't one of his best memories ever. The feeling of having the mighty Alpha werewolf struggling beneath him as he plunged the flash-bang arrows straight into his eye sockets still made his blood sing with pleasure, even years after it had happened.
And then the man pulled the teen Alpha into an open-mouth kiss which made Gerard cringe with disgust as he fought down a wave of nausea.
"What a sick, perverted bastard you are, Deucalion," he managed to choke out.
Surprisingly, it was the McCall boy who reacted first. "Tsk, you're not allowed to talk unless you're being asked a question."
He scoffed. "Or what? If you think that you're going to intimidate-"
He didn't finish the sentence as the pain returned with vengeance. He moaned involuntarily as his whole self was wracked with agony and when it finally stopped, he was breathing harshly and black spots were clouding his vision.
"What are you doing to me, boy?" he demanded.
The teen grinned with a surprising amount of bloodthirstiness. "You wanted to be a werewolf, well, now you have the chance to experience first-handedly what it means to have an Alpha who is very... displeased with you."
Gerard stared at him and for a short moment a single thought rattled in his mind, that he was well and thoroughly screwed. But he wasn't a man who gave up at the first sign of trouble, so he reminded himself that he wasn't defeated yet. Even if the only weapons he had left were his mind and words, he decided to put them to a good use.
"Victoria, how can you stand letting these werewolves roam rampant when it's clear that Deucalion has manipulated them all, and has the kid wrapped around his finger? How can you trust even a word they say?"
The woman looked at him dispassionately. "I don't trust anyone’s words, just as you've taught me. But the other lesson that you've drilled into my head is that a hunter cannot be allowed to turn into a werewolf, and you basically asked for it, demanded it even. So for me, you're just a dead man walking."
He swallowed with difficulty, his throat suddenly parched. "Wait you don't understand, I had to- I had to do this! I was diagnosed with cancer, I had no choice, without the bite I would’ve died within months," he said desperately, and saw the indecision on Chris' and Victoria's faces. "Look, all the papers and medications are in my bag. Take my car keys and go see for yourself."
Notes:
What do you think, will Gerard be able to weasel his way out of being forced to commit suicide?
Chapter Text
Hearing that his father had been diagnosed with cancer shocked Chris, but in all honesty, he didn’t know how to feel, since they had never been particularly close… Or at all. Still, seeing the lack of surprise on Scott’s face made him realize that the teen must have known about this, and hadn't told him. So where did that leave them?
"I'll go to Gerard's car and get his stuff," Victoria offered, and Chris nodded absentmindedly, then watched her leave.
"Scott, a word please?"
"Of course," the teen agreed easily and they went to the garage to have some privacy.
"It's true, isn't it?"
Scott only nodded wordlessly and Chris sighed. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, this day was too long for his taste and it seemed that it wasn't even remotely near being over.
"Why haven't you told me about it?" he asked quietly, trying to avoid sounding accusatory, but he needed to know this, to understand his Alpha's reasoning.
Scott looked at him apologetically as he explained: "If I knew that Gerard was planning to come to Beacon Hills, I would’ve told you about this earlier. I didn't intend to hide things from you, it's just that the things I know, they're either difficult or painful, or both. I didn't want to add even more burden on you when you were still struggling with your marriage problems, so I decided to wait for a better moment to bring that up. I'm sorry that my wish to spare you pain made things even worse."
Chris thought about the past few weeks and had to admit that they were rather tough. If it wasn't for Gerard coming to the town without notifying anyone, he would probably feel grateful for Scott's decision to wait for a bit and give him some reprieve from all the troubles. But as things were now, it only served to catch him unaware, and rob him of the time needed to process the news. Still, it wasn't Scott's fault that the events had snowballed as they had, and for all the teen's knowledge and experience, he couldn't have predicted it.
"It seems that my father has a knack for ruining even the best laid plans, doesn't he?" he commented ruefully.
"That's an understatement," Scott snorted before sobering again. "But Chris, cancer or not, he still needs to pay for what he's done. And I'm not talking about him becoming a werewolf, I'm talking about actual murders and him blinding Deucalion."
"Is it true what Isaac said earlier, that my father killed other hunters and framed Deucalion for it?" he asked, dreading the answer but needing to hear it nevertheless.
Some part of him wanted to avoid this topic as long as possible, to bury his head in sand and pretend that it hadn't happened, that his father wasn't a sadist and a murderer. But as today's events had proved without any doubt, some truths just couldn't, and shouldn't be ignored.
"He did," Scott confirmed with a nod. "Deucalion wanted to negotiate, but Gerard used their meeting as a trap. He sprayed some kind of gas in the air to incapacitate both humans and werewolves, then used a mace spiked with claws to kill the hunters, making it look like it were werewolves who did it. Then, as Deucalion crawled out of the building and was lying on the ground completely defenseless, Gerard plunged the flash-bang arrows into his eyes."
As Scott was recounting the events, his voice shook slightly, as if it pained him to do so. It made Chris wonder why the topic affected the teen so much, but then he recalled the passionate kiss between Scott and Deucalion that he'd witnessed just a couple of minutes ago. It came as a complete surprise, he wasn't aware that the two of them were seeing each other, and he started to worry that the man was using Scott for his own benefit. He wouldn't be surprised if that was the case, after all, Deucalion had more supernatural blood on his hands than most werewolf hunters, so he wouldn't put seducing someone in order to use them past the man.
"I don't mean to pry, but-" he hesitated for a moment, trying to choose his words carefully, "do you know about it from your past life, or did Deucalion tell you this?"
For all his attempted diplomacy, Scott immediately caught on what he was suggesting. "You think that Deucalion has been feeding me lies," the teen said flatly.
It wasn't often that Scott was disappointed with him, but when it did happen, it always left a sour taste in his mouth. This time it wasn't any different, and he instantly felt guilty seeing the half-hurt, half-offended expression on Scott's face, but he still decided to press the issue.
"It's possible, isn't it? Especially considering all the werewolves he talked into killing their own packs…"
Scott grimaced slightly. "Listen, even though we're together, I'm not blind to Deucalion's faults. I know perfectly well that he has a manipulative streak, but he wouldn't use it against me. Besides, the knowledge about that event comes from my first life, so even if Deucalion and I weren't together, I'd still want to bring Gerard to justice."
Chris exhaled slowly. "Alright. I'm sorry, I just needed to make sure that it wasn't…"
"... Me being young and naive?" Scott asked with a wry smile and Chris couldn't help but smile back, glad that despite the difficult conversation things were still alright between them.
"Yeah, something like that," he agreed. "Thank you for talking with me and for explaining things."
"Always."
Scott's eyes were full of acceptance and gentle compassion, and suddenly the realization hit Chris like a brick that Gerard had never, ever looked at him like that. Maybe he should finally stop thinking about him as his father and accept the fact that it was Scott and his pack who were his true family, in all ways that mattered.
"Can I get your pack's symbol tattooed on my arm?" he blurted as they were leaving the garage.
"Of course, as long as you stop referring to it as my pack, and realize that it's our pack, and you're already in it," Scott murmured, squeezing his hand warmly.
He was a part of the pack. The realization hit him hard, but in a good way, and he followed Scott with his heart a little lighter than just a moment before.
Still, he was acutely aware that he needed to figure out what to do with his father- with Gerard, he corrected himself. Apparently, their blood connection didn't mean as much as it should have, but he’d had a long time to learn to accept that. It’s not like the man had ever made any attempt to stay in contact, and had happily ignored Allison’s existence for years.
When they returned to the dining room, Victoria was back already, squatting beside a red sport bag and looking through a pile of docs.
"It's true, he has lung cancer," she confirmed, looking at him grimly.
He nodded, after his talk with Scott he had been expecting it, so it didn't come as any surprise.
"You can't fault an old man for not wanting to die, now, can you?" Gerard asked, trying to appear harmless, but Chris wasn't fooled by his act, not after everything that he'd learned.
"No, but let's get back to Isaac's statement that you killed the hunters who went with you to the meeting with Deucalion. Is that true?" he pressed.
"Of course not, we were ambushed by werewolves! The treacherous bastards didn't even honor the peace negotiations."
Hearing that, Deucalion looked like he wanted to protest, but stayed silent after Scott put a calming hand on his arm. This, more than anything else, assured Chris that their relationship wasn't one-sided or unequal as he had initially thought.
"I don't believe you," he said to Gerard, then turned to Scott. "Can you enter his mind to see where he's hidden his mace? It would prove that he was framing werewolves for his own crimes."
The teen nodded, and Gerard started to struggle in his restraints, protesting loudly.
"Scott, wait," Deucalion grabbed the boy by the wrist, causing everyone to look at him in surprise. "I smell blood from his bag. If he's hurt anyone recently, check his memories if they're still alive and could be rescued."
"Blood? Let me check," Victoria started to rummage through the bag, and after a moment of search she stiffened, then held up a transparent zip bag filled with bloodied claws, chunks of sloppily cut flesh still sticking to them.
Chris felt sick, not because he was sensitive to the sight of blood, but because he realized without any doubt that Gerard was guilty of hurting and killing people and that he was a true monster, not the werewolves he enjoyed hunting so much.
"Wait, I think I recognize the scent," Derek said suddenly, then took the bag from Victoria and opened the zip so that the smell got more intense. His face turned paper white and he started to tremble.
"Cora," he choked out. "They belonged to my sister, Cora."
Peter threw his head back and let out a muffled roar, though it was closer to a broken, painful wail, and the sound broke Chris' heart in two. He didn't even know that witnessing someone else’s pain could hurt so deeply, but it did, and he had to clench his fists to stop his hands from shaking.
Scott's face darkened and he walked up to Gerard, grabbed his head roughly, then ignoring his struggles plunged claws deep into the back of his neck. After a long, tense moment, Scott released his hold and said in a flat, controlled voice, which somehow was even worse than if he would have broken into tears: "She's dead and he ordered his men to cut her body in two and bury it in the woods."
For a moment the only sounds that could be heard in the room were Derek's dry, quiet sobs and Peter's harsh, ragged breaths.
Chris almost felt physical pain simply from watching them grieving. After all, it was Peter who had shown him the meaning of true friendship, and Derek who had altruistically sacrificed his Alpha powers to save Allison, and neither of them deserved to lose a person they loved. It wasn't fair, and for the first time in his life Chris felt such a deep, encompassing hatred.
He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again, he understood clearly what he needed to do. He leaned down to take Gerard's gun from the floor, then pressed the muzzle to the man's temple.
"Wait, it wasn't me, you can't, I'm your father -"
But Chris finally had enough, and despite the horror that he was feeling at what he was about to do, he gritted his teeth and pulled the trigger.
Chapter Text
Killing a man is both incredibly hard and amazingly easy, Chris mused as he watched Gerard's body slump in the chair.
For him, it wasn't the deed itself that was difficult. He had been raised as a killer, so after all the years as a hunter his hands no longer shook and his grip on the gun was as calm and firm as if he held a water pistol instead. No, what was the worst in killing was how irreversible death was. There was no turning back, he had made the decision and had to live with it.
He couldn't help but think how Allison would react after learning that he had killed his own father, even if Gerard hadn't been a good person to begin with, much less a good parent. Still, she was too young, she didn't deserve to see all of this.
"Victoria, Allison and Isaac must have heard the shooting, please tell them to stay upstairs until the body has been dealt with," he said calmly, feeling the detachment already seeping into his thoughts. Oh yes, compartmentalizing the pain, the only skill he truly excelled at.
When Victoria didn't move, he looked at her and caught her wide-eyed, disbelieving stare.
"Chris…" she rasped. "What have you done?"
"What was necessary," he replied and realized that he truly meant it. "I don't know how many lives Gerard has ruined already, but... Anyone so dangerous, so out of control, is better off dead. That's what he taught us."
This finally seemed to convince her and she nodded mutely before going upstairs.
For a moment he simply stood there, staring after her, reluctant to turn and face Peter and Derek. He knew that by killing Gerard he might have prevented further deaths, but nothing he did could give back the lives that had been already lost… including Cora. How could he face them, when their family had suffered so much at the Argents' hands?
He was startled a bit when he felt Scott's hand rubbing his back, but he couldn't deal with the teen's kindness right now, so he took a step back, trying to put more distance between them.
"I'm sorry, I just-"
"It's alright," Scott said soothingly. "Tell me what you need, and I'll do it."
What did he need, he wondered. Certainly not comfort nor compassion, not now, since it would only serve to make him fall apart when he needed to stay strong and focused… and he didn't feel particularly strong at the moment.
"Be my Alpha," he said finally. "I need you to take charge and help me to deal with-" he gestured vaguely.
While his decision to kill Gerard might be justified in his pack's eyes, he was sure that the police wouldn't agree. What was worse, Gerard's car was parked in front of the house, his stuff was there, not to mention the blood that was slowly sinking into the carpet… There was no way they could simply dispose of the body and all the evidence without attracting attention, this was a losing game, and he saw no way to get out of it unscathed.
Apparently, Scott didn't agree.
"Alright, let me handle this," the teen looked calm and confident as he said this, and Chris shook his head in disbelief.
"But, how? There's no way I can get away with this."
"Do you think I would allow one of my packmates to be arrested? And over doing the right thing, no less? I'm going to do whatever it takes not to let it happen," Scott clenched his jaw stubbornly.
Chris wondered if there was anyone else in his life who was so single mindedly, unconditionally loyal and protective of him, but he couldn't think of anyone, and it made him all the more grateful for Scott's support.
"Thank you," he rasped, as his throat was clenched tightly, making it difficult for him to speak. "Even if you don't succeed… Thank you for trying."
He knew that among the werewolves, Scott was one of most powerful beings currently in existence, him winning the duel with Deucalion who was an augmented Alpha had proved as much. However, it was the real world that was the problem right now, and in the eyes of almost everyone, Scott was just a sixteen year old boy who had none of the pull and influence that the Alpha McCall had.
Still, some of Scott's calm confidence must have rubbed off on him as he started to feel a little hopeful that maybe he could get through this, after all.
***
When Scott called him, Noah was in the middle of the afternoon shift at the station and bored out of his mind.
"Hi Scott, what's up?" he asked lightly, stirring coffee in his cup.
"Hi Sheriff, I need you to come to 4470 Thurgood Estates Drive, how quickly can you get here?"
"Scott, I'm at work, I can't drop everything and just-"
"We have a dead body here and it's supernatural-related," the boy interrupted him. "No one else can know, well, no one beside Jordan, you can take him with you."
"What? Why-" he spluttered but he had enough presence of mind not to mention the dead body out loud. "Why Parrish?"
"Because he's one of mine."
Somehow, the succinct, matter-of-fact statement shook him almost as much as the previous mention of there having been a death in which Scott was involved in. This... claim of ownership, it spoke volumes about who he was talking to right now - this was an Alpha werewolf speaking, and Noah knew next to nothing about him. Still, it wasn't exactly a good time and place to drill Scott about it all, so he took the news in stride.
"Alright, I'll get Parrish and be there in fifteen minutes. But Scott? You have a lot of explaining to do," he warned the teen.
"Noted. Thanks, Sheriff."
He wanted to tell Scott not to thank him yet as he hadn't agreed to anything yet besides coming over, but the teen has already disconnected. He stifled a curse under his breath, then went to get Parrish and told him to get into the car.
"Where are we going?" the Deputy asked once he put his seatbelt on.
"Scott called me for some kind of supernatural emergency."
"What? Is everyone alright? What happened?" Parrish bombarded him with questions, his voice sharp and urgent.
"I don't know the details, but Scott seemed to be unharmed, at least." He drove in silence for a moment, trying to get his head around the fact that his new Deputy wasn't human. "So, the story about losing someone from Beacon Hills, was it nothing more than a cover? And since when are you a part of Scott's pack, anyway?"
The ex-soldier looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, before he said: "It wasn't a total lie, I did lose people from this town. And in a way, I've always been his."
Same as when he had been talking with Scott, the wording was peculiar, and Noah didn't know if it was a sign of belonging or an ownership. But then again, Parrish didn't seem to mind, he almost seemed to take pride in being owned by another, so maybe it was he who simply couldn't understand the pack mentality?
They spent the next few minutes in silence and when they arrived, he realized that there were a couple of cars parked in front of the house already. Seeing them, his Deputy stiffened.
"Do you know who all these cars belong to?" Noah inquired, observing him closely.
"Some of them are my friends', but some… aren't."
He clenched his jaw, trying to curb his irritation at all the secrecy. "Will I ever get a straight answer from you?"
Parrish gave him a tense nod but didn't reply, so Noah decided to let it pass for now; he had more pressing matters to take care of than his Deputy's attitude.
When they went into the house, Scott led them to the dining room where an old man's body was tied to a chair, and from the telltale muzzle imprint on the temple Noah could tell that it was a contact bullet wound. Considering that the man's hands were bound with duct tape, this wasn't a suicide or an accident, but a murder.
"Who's this? What happened here?" he demanded.
"He is- was- Gerard Argent, a werewolf hunter and a killer. He had targeted both Deucalion," saying this Scott pointed at a tall, sandy-haired man leaning against the wall, "and the Hale family. He was directly or indirectly responsible for various murders, including humans and werewolves."
That… didn't sound good, for various reasons. First, the most obvious, were the dead man's alleged crimes. But another, which worried him even more, was the awful suspicion that what he was dealing with here was in fact a vigilante justice, and that Scott was involved in it.
"Please tell me that it wasn't you who killed him…"
"No, it wasn't Scott, I did it," one of the men spoke up, his blue eyes watching Noah wearily. "Gerard was my father, so it was my responsibility to make sure that he didn't get the chance to hurt anyone else."
Noah stared at him for a moment, not believing his ears. What madness could drive a man to kill his own father? But still, this was a straightforward confession, so he didn't have any choice but to act on it.
"In that case, you're under arrest, you have the right to remain-"
"Wait, you're not arresting Chris," Scott protested hotly.
"Didn't you hear him, he just confessed to the killing! You can't expect me to turn blind eye on a murder, no matter how justified it may seem. That's what the laws are for."
"No, Sheriff, it's you who isn't listening," Scott argued. "How could we have proven Gerard's guilt when all the evidence that we have can't be presented in court?"
The teen handed him a plastic bag filled with- were these claws? When Noah realized that, he almost dropped them in shock.
"They belonged to my niece, Cora," the man who Noah had met earlier in Melissa's house suddenly spoke up. "She was a werewolf, but she was also an eighteen year old girl who didn't deserve to be killed for who she was, and to have her claws removed as some kind of a morbid trophy."
Scott nodded. "So tell me, Sheriff, how could we have gotten Gerard convicted when all the evidence that we've got against him needs to remain a secret?"
Noah exhaled deeply. He didn't become a police officer to allow people exact revenge on their own, and yet… That girl, Cora, was barely older than Stiles. What monster was capable of doing this, of killing her and mutilating her hands in such a way?
"What do you expect me to do, then?" he asked finally.
"I want you to mark this case as suicide, and close it as soon as possible without appearing suspicious," Scott explained.
Noah stared at him with disbelief. This wasn't the boy he had known for years and watched him scrape his knees while learning to ride a bike, instead he was talking to an entirely different person, adult, ruthless and self-confident to the boot. He really needed to stop thinking about this werewolf as Scott, as he clearly didn't know him at all.
Still, assuming that he would arrest Chris Argent, how did he plan to explain all the details about this case: werewolves, hunters, ripped off claws, in his report? He suddenly understood why Scott insisted on keeping it all under wraps.
Seeing him waver, Scott added: "If it helps, Gerard was diagnosed with lung cancer, he had months, maybe a year or two to live. Still, we couldn't have let him roam free and keep killing werewolves who didn't do anything wrong."
Did this new piece of information make it any better? Noah wondered. Maybe a little bit, but not much. But it did make the whole suicide scenario easier to implement, as it would stand as a reason behind Gerard killing himself. From an outside perspective, it would make perfect sense: an old man had learned about his condition and decided to off himself rather than go through the long and difficult treatment such as radio- or chemotherapy, without any guarantee of it being a success.
"This is- I can't believe that I'm even considering this," he said weakly.
"Believe me, I know," Scott said emphatically, for a split second acting as his old self. "I wouldn't have asked for this if it wasn't important, but I need to protect my pack, and also make sure that knowledge about the supernatural world stays a secret. The stakes are too high."
Noah looked at him consideringly, trying to reconcile the two completely different sides of the teen: shy and confident, caring and ruthless. Which one of them was true? Or maybe both, or neither of them? He didn't know anymore.
He forced himself to look at the body slumped on the chair in front of him and focus on the matter at hand. He really should report this as murder and arrest the dead man's son for doing the deed. It would be the correct thing to do. But would it be right?...
He had always thought the words to have the same meaning, but now he had to wonder, what would he do if Stiles had become a werewolf and was hunted for it, and he couldn't even bring the hunter to justice? After all, laws don't take into consideration the existence of an entirely separate species.
"Alright, let's do it your way," he decided reluctantly, then seeing the relief on Scott's face, he added sternly: "But don't ever expect me to do such a thing again, understood? I get the need for secrecy, but I can't let your world compromise my morals and my job. So, this is the first and the last time that I help cover something like this, is that clear?"
Scott nodded. "Absolutely, and thank you, I appreciate it."
"We all do," Peter added quietly.
Chapter Text
When he learned about Cora’s death, Peter didn't mourn her as a person, because in all honesty, after almost seven years since he’d last seen her, he didn’t truly know her. He remembered a sassy and boyish pre-teen girl, not an eighteen year old young woman who had spent all this time all on her own, away from her roots. She had to grow up quickly, he reckoned, losing almost her whole family in a fire would do that to any kid, but with werewolves it was ten times worse. Losing a pack and all the connections that come with it would feel like a gaping wound even to an adult; he couldn’t imagine how Cora must have felt. Crippled, most probably.
So while he didn’t mourn his niece, he still mourned the lost chances to reunite, to be a family again. He had wanted to meet her and get to know her again, this person she’d become without him to witness it, but now, because of Gerard and his hunters he would never get the chance, and that grieved him more than he could say. But somehow, hearing Derek’s muffled, suppressed sobs and seeing how closed off Chris became after he’d pulled the trigger caused Peter even more pain than losing Cora did… They were his family and they needed him now.
This was what being an Alpha truly meant, he realized suddenly, putting his pack’s needs above his own, no matter how wretched he was feeling himself. And to think that it was the weight that Scott had been carrying all this time, always taking care of others and being there for all those who needed him, and doing it tirelessly for two lifetimes in a row now.
But Scott was only one person, and he couldn't be everywhere, so while they were waiting for the police to finish their job on what had been staged like a suicide scene, Peter walked up to him and offered quietly: "If you need help with anything, just tell me. You don't have to do everything on your own."
The teen looked at him with surprise. "Thank you, but- Peter, you've just lost Cora and you're still hurting, I can tell."
He shook his head. "Don't get me wrong, I'm sad about losing her, but the living will always take priority over the dead. So tell me what are your plans and how I can help."
In response Scott hugged him with gratitude and Peter felt that, after having made so many wrong decisions, he was finally doing something right.
***
When the Sheriff agreed to cover Gerard's death and help to make it look like a suicide, Chris couldn't believe his eyes and ears. He wasn't getting arrested, and if everything went according to Scott's plan, he wouldn't, not for this. It seemed that Scott inspired loyalty not only in werewolves, but in ordinary people as well - which, apparently, also included the Sheriff - and Chris couldn't be more grateful for his intervention.
He didn't know how he could ever repay him back, so when Scott announced that he was going to get Cora's body back, Chris thought that this was his chance to start giving back. However, just as he opened his mouth to offer to come along, Peter swung an arm around his shoulders and steered him out of the room.
"Scott wants to help Derek deal with Cora’s death, so they'll be going together," Peter said quietly into his ear.
"And you think that seeing her body isn't going to make it even worse?" Chris murmured back.
"Considering that after our house burned down we didn't even have any bodies to bury, yes, I think it's preferable to the alternative of not getting to see her at all. We both deserve closure, but Derek most of all."
Chris sighed, once again reminded how much his own family had hurt Peter's. "I'm sorry about everything you both went through…"
"You have nothing to be sorry for," Peter protested, his arm around Chris' shoulders feeling like an anchor. “What you did today… It must have been incredibly tough for you, but it was also exceptionally brave. So what I’m trying to say is- Thank you.”
Chris closed his eyes, suddenly overwhelmed. He felt Peter’s arms circling him and bringing them closer, and after a moment of hesitation he slowly leaned into the warm embrace, enjoying the feeling of another person being so close to him. For a split second he wished that they could stay like this forever, but he squashed the thought before it could grow roots and make him wish for things he could never have.
"Are you going with them too?" He asked after a moment.
"No, actually I was planning to stay with you, to make sure that you’re going to be alright.”
Chris was glad that his face was pressed against Peter’s chest, since for a moment he couldn't decide if he needed to suppress a blush, or tears at the thought of Peter doting on him so much. He breathed deeply, trying to get himself back under control.
“You don’t need to, I can take care of myself,” he protested weakly while all he wanted to do was to agree.
“I have absolutely zero doubt that you can, but the thing is, you shouldn’t have to. Besides,” Peter added playfully, trying to lift up the mood, “that way you’d be doing me a favor, as ever since Scott has been hogging the spotlight and being a super-capable Alpha, I have this urge to prove to myself that I’m equally as good at it as he is. So, be my guinea pig and let me take care of you, please? That way if I’m awful at it no one else would need to know.”
Chris smiled a little and tightened their embrace for a moment before taking a step back, immediately mourning the loss of Peter’s body warmth.
“You’ve made it your life’s mission to be perfect at everything that you’re doing, whether it’s being an evil villain or a loving uncle,” he reminded the man. “There’s no way you’re ever going to be awful at anything.”
Peter pretended to think about it for a moment. “You know what? You’re absolutely right, I am perfect in every way. But it also means that I'm always right, so if I'm saying that you need your friends to support you now, then friends you’re gonna get."
"Friends, as in plural?" Chris asked, surprised.
"If you think that Melissa would stay away once she learns about what happened today, think again. She's going to smother both of us with care, so better get used to the idea," Peter warned him, his expression serious, though his eyes twinkled mischievously. "So, what do you think about a sleepover at Melissa's house?"
For a moment Chris was breathless before he smiled widely, for the first time since he'd pulled the trigger feeling that he could breathe again without a huge weight pressing into his ribs and suffocating him.
"I'd like that very much."
***
Even after seeing it happen with his own eyes, Deucalion still couldn't believe that Gerard was dead. The man who had made his life a living hell and whose face he still saw in his nightmares, was gone for good, and realizing this was… liberating.
When Scott was making plans with his pack, he walked out of the building and leaned against his car, looking up to watch the stars and letting his thoughts wander. He had read his lover’s memoir and knew that the first time around, it had taken his other self quite a while to find himself after regaining his eyesight. And even then, the non-aggression approach that the other Deucalion had adopted seemed quite excessive, as if swearing off all violence could somehow make up for all his earlier wrongdoings.
It didn't work that way, and avoiding taking action hadn't helped anyone, Deucalion knew that now. Allowing the bad guys to roam free was also a decision in itself, and had far reaching consequences, that's why he couldn't help but be in awe of Chris Argent who'd had the guts to make the tough decision and end his own father's life so that no one else would get hurt by him ever again. It must have taken a tremendous amount of willpower to be able to do that, and he finally started to understand why this man was so important to Scott.
He heard quiet footsteps behind him but he didn't need to turn to know who it was, immediately recognizing the familiar scent, sweet and enticing and refreshing at the same time.
"I'm leaving with Derek soon," Scott said as he joined him and leaned against the car next to him.
"I know."
For a long moment they simply stood there, watching the night sky.
"It's unbelievable, isn't it? That Gerard is gone, for good," Scott murmured, taking his hand and making small circular motions with his thumb. "He won't hurt you ever again."
Deucalion bridled a little at the tone, "I'm not defined by one man's actions, you know."
"For almost eight years, you kind of were," Scott reminded him gently. "But it's over now, Gerard's dead, your eyesight is restored, and you are… free."
That was true, he was free. He could go to any place in the world and just forget about the past, if this was what he wanted. But it wasn't. Somehow he had found his place, and it was at Scott’s side, wherever that was.
"When we spoke earlier, you told me that you love me. Did you mean it?" He asked quietly, keeping his voice calm and steady, trying not to put any pressure on his lover.
Not that he thought that Scott had lied or tried to trick him, but sometimes people said things in the heat of the moment, things they regretted later, and it wouldn't be entirely unthinkable that Scott's love confession was such a case. But now, considering the fact that Gerard was no longer a threat, and their adrenaline levels were back to normal, he needed to know if Scott's feelings for him were true.
"I did, but let me do this properly now," Scott changed the position so that they were now facing each other. "Deucalion Emery, I love you with all my heart. I love everything about you, even the parts of you that are imperfect. In fact, I think that I love those parts the most."
Deucalion laughed wetly and realized that his eyes welled up with tears, but since they were tears of happiness, he didn't feel ashamed of them.
"I love you too, so very much," he choked out.
When Scott pulled him into a kiss, he deepened it immediately, as if he was dying of thirst and Scott was an oasis in the desert, and just as precious.
In this very moment, he didn't care about what the world had in store for them, how many losses or heartbreaks, he only cared about the beautiful boy in his arms who had chosen to love him despite every wrong deed and every hurt he had caused.
Chapter Text
Between Melissa's gentle care and Peter's warm support Chris felt more like himself and less like an empty shell of a man. They didn't judge him or demanded anything, but surrounded him with their friendship and just… let him be.
When he was with them, he felt so at ease, like he was truly a part of their relationship, and the hardest part was to realize that no, he wasn't, not truly. They were being friendly, sure, but at the end of the day he would still be left all by himself. He couldn't play third wheel forever, no matter how wonderful he was feeling during those few stolen moments of happiness.
"Hey, you've fallen silent all of a sudden," Melissa nudged him gently with her foot as they were lounging about on the sofa, with Melissa lying next to Peter and Chris opposite of them.
What was wrong with him that a fleeting graze of her foot made him yearn for more touch, more closeness, more everything?
"It's nothing," he said. Seeing their unconvinced faces, he tried again, even though he wasn’t convinced himself: "Guys, I mean it, it's nothing."
"Listen, if you're feeling guilty-" Peter started hesitantly, but Chris interrupted him.
"I don't, not truly, and that's the problem, alright? I feel guilty about not feeling any guilt at all. I should feel at least something about killing my own damn father, but I don't feel anything, maybe except for relief."
He stood up and turned his back to them so that they couldn't see his face, then breathed deeply, trying to get a grip on himself. He'd had it all wrong, it wasn't a relief to be with them, it was unbearable, he shouldn't have agreed to come here in the first place-
He heard a rustling of fabric and quiet footsteps before he was engulfed in a loose hug from behind, Melissa's body pressing lightly against his back, and he almost couldn't take it.
"But you are struggling with something, we can tell," she murmured. "Whatever it is, you can talk about it with us."
Would it be that easy… "I can't," he said mournfully, "not about this."
"You can trust us, we're here for you, no matter what."
He turned around and looked at her face, now clouded with worry for him, and he couldn't find the strength in him to pretend anymore. He cupped her face and kissed her desperately, putting all of his yearning and misery into it, kissing her lips as if it was the first and the last time he would ever do it… Because that was the truth, he was burning all bridges behind him now, but he simply couldn't hide his feelings any longer.
When he pulled back, the shock on Peter’s and Melissa's faces made him feel like the worst kind of man, so he walked out of the room and then out of the house, feeling more miserable than he had ever remembered being.
***
For a long moment after Chris had left, Peter was completely stupefied. Out of all things that he would've expected from his friend, him kissing Melissa would be the very last on the list, and he felt strangely empty and bereft of something important, but he felt too confused and hurt to even try to analyze what it was that he was missing.
"I- I didn't know that he would do something like this," Melissa looked shaken as she said this, so he pushed his own shock aside and stood up to embrace her.
When he was holding her, the werewolf side of him smelled a mix of confusion and sadness on her, but also guilt, yearning, and what pained him the most, also a small amount of arousal. Apparently, Melissa wasn’t unaffected by Chris’ kiss, and he honestly didn’t know how to react. Should he be angry? Should he demand that she ceased any contact with Chris? But it wouldn’t feel right, Melissa was his lover, not his possession, he couldn’t just order her around.
“Can you be honest with me?” he asked while looking her in the eye. “Do you find Chris attractive? If I wasn’t in the picture, would you like to be with him?”
She looked away and he could tell that she was feeling torn.
“Peter, I-” she sighed heavily. “It doesn’t matter, alright? You are in the picture, I’m with you and I don’t want that to change, ever.”
“This is not what I am asking,” he rebuked her as gently as he could. “Tell me the truth, please.”
For a moment, she hid her face in her hands. “Yes, I like him and I find him attractive. But it’s not something I have control over, it just- happened. But I want to be with you, I swear,” she looked at him pleadingly.
‘It’s alright,” he murmured, then pulled her closer and kissed her lips softly, soothingly. Slowly, she relaxed in his arms and returned the kiss.
“I feel so awful, because both of you deserve to be loved, and I wish that there was a way to… I don’t know. Not break anyone’s heart,” she said after a moment. “Are you angry with Chris? What are you going to do about him?”
Was he angry? He definitely should be. What kind of man wouldn’t be angry seeing his woman being kissed by another man who also happened to be their best friend? But more than angry he was feeling sad and torn, because he didn’t want to lose either Chris or Melissa, he cared for both of them too much.
“I don’t know yet, but I need to talk with him first.”
He could hear Chris quickened heartbeat from the outside and he was glad that the man hadn’t left, after all.
When he opened the door he saw that Chris was sitting on the porch, hiding head in his hands, so he walked up to him and sat on the stairs beside him. They were silent for a long moment, neither speaking or touching, as if any, even slightest contact would shatter the fragile peace between them.
“Why- Why aren’t you yelling at me, or beating the crap out of me?” Chris said finally, his voice breaking.
Peter looked at him consideringly. “Do you want me to?”
“No, well, maybe? Would it make things alright between us?” Chris asked with a self-depreciating tilt to his lips, and Peter hated it. He hated the acrid stink of guilt and self-hatred coming off Chris, and he wished that he could make it better, somehow.
But damn, he was the one who had been wronged here, it was he who was owed an apology, but even more than that, an explanation.
“While usually I’m all for venting my feelings through violence, I’d rather you talked to me instead and explained why you did this,” he said, trying to keep his cool, then added: “You know how much Melissa means to me.”
Chris closed his eyes for a moment. "You're so perfect together and I’m happy for you, but I just can't-" he swallowed, then choked out: "I can't stand to watch the both of you from the outside when all I want is to be in. With you."
Peter looked at him, shocked. Did that mean-
“Wait, are you saying that you’re interested in Melissa and me? That you’d like to be in a relationship... with both of us?”
When Chris nodded wordlessly, he exhaled shakily. He was absolutely, totally stunned. Never would he have imagined that scenario, but as he started to think about it, trying to imagine a future with both Melissa and Chris by his side, sharing everything together, he wasn’t appalled, on the contrary.
He felt wistful.
Would it really be so bad to have more than one person to love and spend his life with? Even his inner wolf was at ease in Chris' presence, which - considering that usually it was insanely jealous and possessive each time a man looked at Melissa even with a semblance of interest - was a miracle in itself.
“Please say something, anything,” Chris begged quietly and Peter realized that he had been sitting wordlessly for long enough for the silence to become uncomfortable.
“I’m-” he rasped, then cleared his throat. “In all honesty, I’m not sure exactly how I feel about it and how it would even work, but if Melissa would like to do this, I’m not… I’m not against it.”
A myriad of emotions flashed through Chris’ face and Peter realized that even if he hadn’t outright rejected the man, his words hadn’t been exactly enthusiastic either. And considering that Chris’ had just bared his heart to him… That must have hurt.
“What I meant to say is that I care about you very much and I don’t want to lose you,” he added sincerely while taking Chris’ hand. “So if this is the way to keep both you and Melissa happy, then I want to give us a chance.”
Judging by the way Chris smiled at him, this was the right thing to say.
Chapter 136
Notes:
I can't believe it, for 1 year anniversary one of my readers, the talented ardeidae2005 gave me a Deucalion/Scott picture!!
It's the first time somebody ever gave me a fanart, it's so beautiful, check it yourself! I posted it below. It's lovely!
Too bad that there's no Scott/Deuc romance in this chapter, but worry not, we'll get there ;)
Chapter Text
***
Some part of Derek didn't want to go with Scott, didn't want to see yet another sister dead. It was like having to bury Laura over and over again, and that had messed him up pretty badly. But some part of him also knew that if he didn't go, he would regret it his entire life. He wanted to see her, touch her for the last time, and even if the sight would break his heart, it was better than no goodbye at all. After all, life had taught him the hard way that something was better than nothing at all.
But even though he thought that he was prepared for the sight, when he started to dig in the ground, he couldn't help letting out a short, quiet sob that tore through his throat and mouth despite his best efforts to keep it inside.
"Hey, let me do this," Scott put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently.
The offer tempted him, but Cora had been his sister, and so it was his duty to get her body back, even if he had to dig it out from the ground with his own bare hands. Which, thankfully, he needn’t have to, but it didn’t change the fact that he would do anything that was necessary for the chance to see her one last time.
"No, I'm fine," he said stubbornly, tightening his grip on the shovel. "I can do it."
Scott hesitated for a moment, then relented with a nod and let him work in silence, which Derek was grateful for. He couldn't help but feel a bit of resentment towards the Alpha, and even though he knew it was unfair, he couldn't help wondering if he hadn't made a mistake in listening to him. If Scott hadn't talked him out of looking for Cora, maybe she would've been alive still...
He managed not to cry until much later, when Cora was finally buried on the grounds belonging to their family house, right next to Laura. Only then did he allow himself to break apart, falling to his knees and burying his fists in the same cold ground that now covered the bodies of both his sisters. When Scott knelt beside him and attempted to hug him, he suddenly couldn’t take it and roughly shoved the Alpha away.
“Don’t! Just don’t,” he rasped out, his voice breaking. “It’s all your fault- If you didn’t tell me not to look for her- If only I didn’t listen to you-”
The ugly grimace that flashed through Scott’s face and the intense pain that he could feel through their bond for a split second before their link abruptly closed off on Scott’s end was enough to make him cringe with guilt.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”
“I think you meant every word, but it’s fine,” Scott said calmly, quietly, appearing so in control that it was almost painful to watch. “I’ve had my share of regrets and I've learned how to live with them, so if what you need right now is someone to take the blame, I’ll do it."
Derek clenched his fists, but this time it wasn’t Cora’s death that made him feel this way, it was the knowledge that he'd hurt the only person who had always been there for him and who didn't deserve the scorn nor the guilt. He shouldn't have lashed out and let his pain blind him to the fact that if it wasn't for Scott, he wouldn't have known that Cora had survived the fire in the first place.
Not to mention, only now that their link was closed did he realize how much he'd become used to the feeling of his Alpha's presence in the back of his mind, like a gentle hum soothing all his hurts, fears and insecurities. But now that it was missing, the absence of it rang in his ears louder than if Scott had screamed at him.
"I don't blame you, not really, it's just- for a moment it was all too much for me, so I lashed out at you," he said, contrite.
"It's alright," Scott's eyes were gentle and forgiving as he murmured: "Can I hug you now or is it still not a good moment?"
Derek nodded wordlessly and a moment later he was engulfed in his Alpha's arms, and he let out a shaky sigh as he felt all his muscles relaxing in the comforting embrace. He closed his eyes and let himself be soothed by Scott's calm, unwavering strength, and then he felt their link opening up again, just a little, but it was enough. He exhaled with relief as he felt the familiar presence of their bond chasing away the fear that Scott wouldn't want to open up to him anymore.
"Thank you." He knew that he didn't have to explain what he meant, when they were being connected Scott was usually able to tell what he had in mind just from the feelings that Derek projected through their link.
"I simply wanted to shield you from my own pain, that's all," Scott explained while rubbing circles on his back. "I'd never shut you out to hurt you or out of spite."
Derek knew that it was the truth, Scott didn't have a vindictive bone in his body, at least not where the pack was concerned.
They were silent for a long moment, both deep in thoughts, before Derek finally felt ready to speak.
"You know what I hate the most? That I'll only remember Cora's lifeless body and not what kind of person she was. I wish I had a chance to get to know the adult version of her, or at least to see her when she was still alive."
"Why don't we go to your loft and I'll share with you all the memories that I have of her?" Scott offered and stood up. "These events didn't happen this time around, true, but at least that way you'll remember her as she was, independent, headstrong, sometimes reckless, but also extremely loyal to her family. She reminded me a lot of you, to be honest."
Derek snorted weakly. "Sounds like a Hale through and through, then." He stood up as well and dusted off his pants, feeling exhausted and emotionally drained, but also ready to accept the fact that Cora was truly gone. "I'm really sorry for what I said earlier, I know that you're doing everything you can to keep everyone safe."
"I try, even if sometimes it's not enough," Scott seemed tired and resigned as he said it, so Derek focused on sending his love and gratitude via their bond, trying to show his Alpha as much support as he'd been given.
***
Even though all three of them agreed to try to be together, things were really awkward at first. It got to the point that Melissa constantly avoided his eyes, so Chris slowly started to regret his decision to come forth with his feelings, since right now he was feeling awfully like an intruder and not like a friend, much less a lover.
"I'm sorry, it was a mistake, I shouldn't have offered something you're clearly uncomfortable with," he said once it got really late and it was rather obvious that everyone was thinking about going to bed but were too uneasy to say it out loud.
"No, it's not that," Melissa put a hand on his shoulder and finally met his eyes. "It's just so… new, and unexpected. Maybe we should take things slowly, to get used to the idea?"
"Do you want me to leave?" he asked, even though it would hurt him to be rejected like that.
"No, of course not!" Melissa protested, which eased his fears a little. "We should all try to get some sleep, I just don't think I'm ready for more than that. But if Peter doesn't mind, you're welcome to share a bed with us, platonically I mean."
They both looked at Peter, who looked serious for a moment. "Of course I mind… but only because the bed is too small for the three of us, it's going to be like sleeping in a sardine can, but I guess we'll manage," he winked at them, and Chris exhaled with relief.
Melissa went upstairs to get him fresh towels, and Peter got him a spare t-shirt and boxers to sleep in, then they took turns in going to the bathroom. Chris went first and once he was done he lay under the covers, waiting nervously for them to join him.
Peter was next and he slipped under the duvet without hesitation, then positioned them both so that he was spooning Chris from behind.
"Mmm, this feels nice."
Chris couldn't help but agree, Peter's warm breath on the back of his neck felt simply exquisite, like a long-forgotten luxury. After all, Victoria wasn't much of a cuddly type and hadn't encouraged touch outside of sexual intercourses, which were few and far between. Simply lying beside another person and sharing innocent touches was an alien concept to her, but Chris decided not to dwell on it anymore and simply enjoy the here and now.
He already started to doze off when he smelled a faint flowery scent as Melissa joined them on the bed. When he opened his eyes he saw that she was in light green pajamas consisting of shorts and a tank top, and for a moment he couldn't breathe, she looked simply beautiful, especially in the dim light of the bedside lamp.
"I admit that I had some reservations about this idea, but you guys look so comfortable with each other, it's incredible," she murmured as she lay down beside him.
He didn't know what to do with his hands at first, and after a moment of lying there stiffly he finally mustered up the courage to put the left hand on Melissa's waist while with the right hand he brushed the hair away from her face. This caused Peter to sat up and for a moment Chris was afraid that he'd crossed some line, that he wasn't allowed to touch her after all, but the man just leaned down and kissed first Melissa's, then Chris' cheek, before turning off the lamp and murmuring a quiet 'goodnight'.
Surrounded so generously by warmth and care, Chris finally allowed himself to relax, and he didn't even catch the moment when he fell asleep.
***
Peter woke up in the middle of the night and realized that it was simply because of Melissa going to the bathroom. When he rolled onto his back and propped himself on his elbows, he saw that Chris was awake as well.
"Whassit?" the ex-hunter slurred, blinking sleepily.
Peter grinned, amused, that was the cutest he had ever seen him. "Melissa has a habit of drinking a glass of water before going to sleep, so she often wakes up and needs to pee," he explained with a quiet chuckle.
"Hey, I heard that. Besides, drinking water is good for kidneys," Melissa said defensively once she got back. "Can werewolves even get kidney stones?"
He made a face. "I don't know and I'd rather not find out. Now, let's go back to sleep before Chris decides he'd rather sleep on the sofa than with the two of us."
Chris yawned and muttered: "Not a chance, it's warm and snuggly here, I like it."
Peter had to agree, he hated sleeping alone, especially since the wolf inside him liked to keep his mates close.
Wait, did he just think of both Melissa and Chris as his mates?... Yes, he did. And he meant it.
Even after Melissa and Chris had fallen asleep again, he was still lying wide awake, shocked by the realization. He couldn't deny that he felt comfortable and at ease with the both of them, but up until now he'd only thought about Chris as a friend and he'd been worried that he wouldn't be able to return the man's feelings. Now, he was quite sure that it won't be a problem at all.
He wondered how it would feel to touch Chris intimately, and he was surprised to realize that the thought didn't repulse him, but it made him curious instead. He still didn't think that he would ever enjoy going all the way with a man since anal sex didn't interest him at all, top or bottom, it didn't matter, it just wasn't his thing. But sex wasn't only about penetration, and to his own surprise he was excited at the prospect of finding out with Chris and Melissa what they all liked and how they could enjoy themselves.
He turned to the side so that he was pressed into Chris' back, and inhaled deeply the masculine scent, finally admitting to himself that he liked it a lot, almost as much as he liked how Melissa smelled. And if being a werewolf had taught him anything, it was to trust his nose and his instincts, so that was exactly what he was going to do.
Chapter Text
Chris woke up to the sound of dishes clanking in the kitchen. He looked around and saw that Melissa was still sound asleep, while Peter was nowhere to be seen.
Wow, he had really spent a night with the two, and even if nothing had happened between them, it was still incredible. He couldn’t help a goofy smile that appeared on his face as he stood up, careful not to wake Melissa up, and went to the small ensuite bathroom to freshen up.
When he got back, he saw that she started to stir a little. For a moment he hesitated, not knowing how he should act around her now that they were more than friends but not quite lovers yet, but in the end decided that second guessing each move would only make things more awkward between them. Besides, their trial period of being in a threesome was supposed to show if this was what they all wanted or not, so he needed to be himself and act as natural as possible, otherwise it wasn't going to work.
He lay down beside her and gave her a quick peck on the lips. "Did you sleep well?"
"Yeah," she covered her yawn with a hand. "Sorry, I'm not exactly a morning person, usually it's Peter who wakes up first and makes breakfast."
He snickered. "I'd never peg Peter as a domesticated man."
Melissa started to giggle when the door opened, revealing Peter standing there in an apron with his eyebrow raised pointedly.
"Excuse me, I'm not domesticated, I'm gentlemanly," the man huffed exaggeratedly. "Besides, you might want to remember my werewolf hearing next time you decide to gossip about me behind my back."
Damn, how Peter was doing it, wearing an apron and still managing to do it in a way that was hot and sexy?
"Wow, this look suits you," Chris murmured appreciatively.
"I'm perfectly aware that I look fabulous no matter what I wear, but thank you for noticing," Peter winked, then took the apron off and put it away before joining them on the bed. "Can I get my good-morning kiss, now?"
A little stunned and not quite believing his luck, Chris nodded eagerly. To his surprise, he was pulled into a deep, intense kiss which he wasn't quite prepared for, since knowing Peter’s sexual preference he'd expected something more platonic. There was nothing uncertain or innocent about the way Peter kissed him, though, the bold swipes of the man's tongue made him go weak at the knees in an instant. It was good that he was on the bed already, or else he would have to sit down anyway.
When they parted, he realized that he was panting and clutching Peter's shoulders desperately, as if wanting to keep him close forever. They stared into each other's eyes for a moment before Peter gave him a small, genuine smile.
"We're good together, aren't we?"
"We are," Chris replied breathlessly, trying to calm his excited heart which beat twice as fast than normal.
Peter turned to Melissa and asked: "What do you say, love, want to join us?"
She stared at the two of them, her lips slightly parted from shock, and Chris realized that they must have made quite a show.
"Give me one minute," she muttered, then stood up and hurried to the bathroom.
Chris looked after her, surprised and a little worried that it was all too much for her, but then he saw that Peter was grinning.
"Don't worry, she's very much interested, but she likes to brush her teeth before making out. Something about having a fresh breath makes her more confident, so I'm not complaining."
It was a good thing that Chris had gone to the bathroom earlier, then, since he would've hated to be the only one with morning breath. Still, he couldn’t help but marvel at how well Peter and Melissa knew each other despite the fact that they had been dating only a couple of weeks.
"Are you sure that I'm not intruding?" he asked, just in case.
"Absolutely. Besides, if I had any doubts, I wouldn't have kissed you as I did."
Chris couldn't help a faint blush staining his cheeks, and he felt hot all of a sudden. He cleared his throat quietly.
"Um, I thought that you weren't interested in men?"
"I'm not," Peter shrugged, unconcerned. "I'm fairly sure that you're the exception to that rule, though. I can't imagine touching or kissing another man… only you."
After hearing that, Chris didn't even try to resist the temptation, he pulled Peter closer and drew him into another heated kiss. Feeling bold, he slipped his hands underneath the man's shirt and caressed the muscled abdomen, musing absentmindedly if Melissa's skin would also feel so wonderfully silky and smooth. After a moment he heard a throat being cleared, and he pulled away, looking dazedly around.
"Whoa, it looks like the two of you don't need me anymore," Melissa commented with hands on her hips.
Not trusting his voice, he reached out to her and once she took his hand, pulled her onto the bed with every intention to prove to her that he very much desired her and wanted to be with her.
He was absolutely certain that Peter felt the same, too.
***
Seeing Chris and Peter kissing each other like there was no tomorrow caused Melissa no small amount of contradicting feelings. She was confused and a little jealous, partly because she still hadn't gotten used to being in a threesome, but also partly because they seemed to be doing perfectly fine without her. But most of all, she was surprised at how aroused she was by the sight of the two most important men in her life making out right before her eyes, and she could feel her excitement spiking even further when she saw that Peter's shirt was hiked up and Chris was caressing his torso. Damn, the two of them were so hot together… But where in that picture was a place for her?
She couldn't lie to herself, when it came to sex she wasn't the most experienced of women, she had married early in her life and after the divorce her attempts at romance had been few and far between. She'd been relieved when Peter had told her that he'd been a little nervous too because of his time spent in coma, and that they could relearn everything together. Thanks to that she was now much more confident about her body and skills than just a few weeks ago, but still, having to keep two men satisfied seemed rather daunting. How would that even work, she wondered, were they going to take turns with her, or-
Damn, the thought of having sex with the two of them, one after another, instantly made her feel embarassed about her fantasies, but just imagining that was enough to make her feel more turned on than she'd ever remember being. She couldn't lie to herself any longer: she wanted them both.
When Chris pulled her to bed, she decided to throw caution to the wind and forget about her self-consciousness for the moment. So, this time she kissed him first, then guided his hands so that they slid down her body, starting from her breast, then further down to her hips, and even lower, until he reached her buttocks and kneaded them just right, exactly how she liked it. She rewarded his efforts with an appreciative moan, then remembered that her lover was right beside them, watching.
"Peter, are you sure- can Chris and I-" she stumbled over her words.
"Love, the three of us can do whatever we want, as long as we're in it together," he assured her, then added playfully: "Go on, enjoy yourself, I admit that I quite like the view."
She was sure that her cheeks were blushing hotly, but she nodded and decided that she was going to follow his advice and do exactly that: enjoy this.
***
They left the bedroom over half an hour later and the pancakes which Peter had prepared earlier had gotten lukewarm in the meantime, but they simply put them for a minute in the microwave and they were just as delicious as ever. Besides, neither of them even thought about complaining, since that half an hour spent in the bed kissing, touching and exploring had proven to them that yes, their unusual relationship could work, and that it had the potential to be amazing.
They were just finishing breakfast when the boys came home, followed by Derek and Allison, and Melissa blinked, surprised.
“What are you all doing here? Don’t classes start in-” she looked at the clock hanging on the wall, “twenty minutes?”
“Hello to you too, mom,” Scott rolled his eyes at her less than warm welcome. “Yesterday I left my backpack at home, Isaac texted me that he did too, so Derek offered to give us all a lift here and then to school. Hi guys, by the way,” he greeted Peter and Chris with a smile.
When he came closer to give her a hug, his nose twitched and his eyes widened.
“Mom, why- why are you…?” he stuttered. “I mean, I get Peter's scent, but Chris'…?”
She sighed, not quite knowing how to start explaining. She should've known that with his superior senses he would know immediately that something had happened between the three of them, so it was no use to try to hide anything from him. But since Isaac and Allison were listening to their conversation too, she needed to find a way to break it to them gently, without causing any strife in their family.
“I love Peter, but we both like Chris very much too, so we decided to be together, all three of us,” she explained, then seeing the kids’ shell-shocked expressions, she added: “What is the most important is that we care about each other, and about all of you. That’s never going to change.”
***
When Melissa revealed their relationship to the kids, Chris immediately looked at his daughter, trying to gauge her reaction. He could only hope that she wouldn’t hate this new development…
“Is this because of what happened yesterday?” Allison asked. “Because if it is, I think you should think this through...”
“Sweetheart, it’s not like that,” he shook his head. “I realize that for you it might seem a little hurried and unexpected, but it’s not, since I’ve been interested in Peter and Melissa for quite some time now. Yesterday was exhausting and difficult, that's true, but they were so caring and supportive that it caused me to reveal the feelings which were already there. I hope-” he took a shaky breath, “I hope that you can accept it, and be happy for me, for all three of us.”
Allison still looked uncertain, but she nodded nevertheless, so he walked up to her and gathered her into a short hug, then kissed the top of her head which he always did whenever she was distressed and in need of comforting.
When he looked up, his eyes met Isaac’s, and he realized that the boy was even more upset than Allison.
“Isaac, are you alright with this? Is there anything you’d like to ask?”
“Yeah, can I keep seeing Allison now that we’re sorta like siblings?”
Oh, he hadn’t considered their family relations from this angle, but he didn’t have to think about it for long to know how he felt about it. “I don’t see why you shouldn’t be dating Allison, since you’re not related and you didn’t grow up together.”
The boy immediately perked up, but then bit his lower lip uncertainly. “Um- since Melissa is my mom now, and Peter’s like an uncle to me, are you going…? I mean, who am I to you now?”
Chris looked at him and recalled that when he’d first met him, Isaac had been beaten to a pulp by his abusive father, and had been struggling to trust another adult man, much less a stranger. But they had come a long road since then, and Chris could honestly say that he wanted to be the father figure the boy so desperately needed. But the question was: would Isaac accept him?
“I know that I’m not your real father, but it doesn’t change the fact that I care for you as I would for my own son,” he admitted honestly, and was glad that he did, since it caused Isaac’s eyes to light up instantly, and within seconds he had his arms full of an emotional teenage boy. Not that he minded, of course.
It was Peter who spoke up next. “Scott, you’ve fallen silent, are you alright with this? It would mean a lot to us to have your blessing."
Chris looked at him curiously, since it was the first time he’d seen the man being so tentative and submissive. This was Peter talking to his Alpha, he realized at once, amazed.
“If this is something that all three of you want, then of course you have my blessing,” Scott assured them, and Chris exhaled with relief. “But please, promise me that whatever happens romantically between you, it won’t change the fact that you’re also friends and packmates, alright?”
Chris looked Peter in the eye, and then they both looked at Melissa.
“We promise,” they said almost in sync, and somehow it felt as solemn as a vow.
Chapter Text
When Deucalion received a message from Scott with an invitation to Derek's place for a full pack meeting, he felt both excited and nervous. This was an important moment of their lives, an introduction and also possibly a merger of both their packs. He couldn't help but wonder if the tensions will run high, making it impossible for them all to get along, or if they'll be able to overcome their differences, somehow.
If he was a little nervous, the twins were much closer to being complete wrecks.
"Scott's friends hate us, we were barely allowed back to school, they won't be happy that we're encroaching on their pack's territory and invading their meeting," Ethan lamented.
Aiden had been mostly silent the whole day, being more prone to grim silences rather than expressing his reservations aloud like his brother, but now he nodded with agreement.
"We're not invading, we were invited, remember?" Deucalion reminded them with exasperation.
They were interrupted by a knock, and after a second the door opened, revealing Scott's lean silhouette. And while he was always happy to see his lover, he couldn’t help but worry if something had happened, or if Scott had changed his mind and didn’t want them to meet his pack, after all.
"Hi, I thought that the plan was to meet in Derek's loft...?" he frowned.
"Yes, but considering the fact that you're my partner, I just thought that we should arrive at the meeting together," Scott explained as he gave him a quick kiss, then looked at the twins. "Hi boys, what's up?"
"Deucalion told us that you're a time traveller," Aiden said bluntly, folding his arms defensively. "Is that true? Have you known us before?"
Scott sighed. "I'm not sure if 'known' is the correct word. In my first life, I knew your brother for a little longer, but you… I simply didn't get the chance to get to know you better."
Oh yes, Aiden's death at the hands of the Oni, Deucalion remembered reading about it in Scott’s memories, it broke his heart to realize that Ethan had been forced to continue living without his twin.
"What, why? Aiden and I are practically inseparable, how could you have gotten to know only one of us?" Ethan looked at Scott without understanding.
"You might be werewolves, but you're not invincible. None of us is," Scott tried to break it to them gently, but Ethan still seemed confused, and it was Aiden who understood the implications, first.
"I died, didn't I?" He asked stiffly with his jaw set and hands curled tightly into fists.
"Yes, you died while defending my pack and fighting our enemies. You tried to make up for bad things that you had done earlier, wanted to redeem yourself so badly… And you did, but for too high a price," Scott's eyes were pained as he said this, hiding an old grief which didn’t fade with time.
"But- It’s impossible, we swore that we would never abandon one another!...” Ethan protested hotly, so unlike his usual easy-going self.
“If I died in a fight, then it wasn't a matter of choosing to leave you, Ethan,” Aiden tried to calm his brother down, but it didn't seem to make much of a difference.
“Well, then you shouldn’t have fought at all!”
The twins were staring at each other with a mix of hurt, weariness and disbelief, as if they were just starting to understand that no matter how close they were, there were forces in this world that could still separate them, and that death was most permanent and unavoidable of them all.
Learning to accept one’s mortality wasn’t easy even for an adult, but it must be excruciatingly painful for someone as young as Ethan or Aiden… And Scott too, Deucalion realized suddenly. How young Scott had been when he’d had to watch one of his friends die for the first time, seventeen? That Argent girl, Allison, had been the first one to go, but she certainly hadn’t been the last.
“Listen, even if you refuse to fight, the war will find you eventually, no matter what you do or don’t do,” Scott grimaced. “We’ve all learned that the hard way.”
“But we don’t have to be chasing after it! It’s stupid, and a sure method to get ourselves killed!”
Deucalion grimaced at Ethan’s words. While he was happy that the boy had at least some self-preservation in him, he felt strangely disappointed by his pragmatic and - dare he say it - rather selfish point of view.
“If you’re doing all of this for the second time, don’t you ever wish to play safe and just hole up in the mountains, or run to South America or something?” Aiden asked Scott curiously.
Deucalion watched how Scott’s eyes lost focus for a moment before they sharpened and shone with a pure, ruby red light.
“We’re werewolves, and we don’t run,” the young Alpha said with a quiet passion. “We might retreat in order to regroup, but we don’t shy away from a fight, and where my pack’s safety is concerned, I’ll fight for as long as I have to.”
Aiden stared at Scott with a glint in his eyes that was pure hero worship, while Ethan shuffled his feet, embarrassed.
“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I don’t want you to think that I’m a coward, I just can't imagine losing Aiden."
“Don’t worry, I don’t think that at all.” Scott ruffled Ethan’s hair with tenderness that was almost palpable. "Listen guys, since you're now aware that there are difficult times ahead, do you still want to join my pack's meetings? I'll understand if you say no, so don't feel pressured into anything."
For a second Deucalion felt a little peeved, after all he was the twins' Alpha and they should follow his lead, no questions asked, but he quickly squashed that thought. He didn't want to be the kind of Alpha who orders his packmates around, he wanted to be more like Scott who seemed to genuinely care for their opinion.
That’s why he swallowed his irritation and said calmly: "Scott's right, it's your life, so it's your call if you want to get involved or not.”
The twins shared a look, communicating silently which never ceased to amaze him.
"It's better to be prepared, so… we want in," Aiden said decisively while Ethan nodded.
"That's great!" Scott smiled happily, giving them a quick hug which both boys readily returned. "Would you mind going downstairs and waiting for a moment? I need to talk with Deucalion, but it won't take long, I promise."
"Sure," Ethan agreed easily while Aiden wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and stage-whispered: "Enjoy your 'talk'!"
When the twins left the apartment, Deucalion turned to his lover, intrigued. "What did you want to talk about?"
Scott took a step closer and put his arms around Deucalion’s waist, then looked him in the eye. "I was wondering if you're alright with me being open about us... being together. I want to be able to hold your hand or kiss you whenever I feel like it, but I won't if it's going to make you uncomfortable."
Knowing that Scott would respect his wishes no matter what he decided humbled him, and he wondered if he could ever measure up and be equally considerate and thoughtful as his lover was. It seemed that Scott was doing it so… effortlessly, while Deucalion still struggled at times with his own domineering, possessive nature.
"I should ask you if you don't feel ashamed by being seen with me," he countered. "It's your reputation that's at stake, since mine is already tarnished, and I don't want yours to suffer by associating with me."
Scott shrugged. "I know that you've changed, and if someone doesn't want to accept it, that's their business, not mine. Besides, the people that I care about the most already know about us, so… I don't want to have to hide how I feel about you."
Deucalion didn’t know how Scott was doing it, but his every word, move and act seemed to be filled with love and acceptance… Knowing that, there was only one answer Deucalion could give him
"Then let's not hide," he murmured, pulling his young lover closer. The kiss that followed seemed like a perfect way to seal their agreement.
***
When they went outside, the twins were already waiting in the car, leaving the backseat for them. Scott certainly didn't mind, since it gave him an opportunity to snuggle up to Deucalion, which he took eagerly.
Aiden just started driving when Scott heard his phone beeping quietly and he wriggled a bit in order to fish it out of his pocket.
'Where are you?' Derek texted him. 'Others are here already, we moved to the apartment on the 5th floor since it has more space than mine.'
'Thanks for the heads up, we'll be there in 10 min," he texted back.
'We?...'
Scott smirked as he replied. 'I'll give you a clue: my mom won't be happy to see him.'
'Well, Deucalion's not been behaving so bad recently, so I guess that you must be a good influence on him.'
He grinned and showed the message to his lover who scowled, displeased. "You're gossiping about me with your Beta?"
Scott hushed him and typed the reply to Derek: 'He says hi, by the way. The twins are coming too, so make us some room, alright?'
'Will do. See you!'
When he put his phone away, Deucalion shook his head with exasperation.
"I don't know if I should feel flattered or offended that I'm the main topic of your chat."
Rather than replying, Scott buried himself deeper into his embrace. He heard Deucalion sigh before the man's arms tightened around him and he felt a gentle, chastising nip on the ear.
He grinned, if this was the punishment for teasing his lover, he must do it more often.
Chapter Text
Most days, Lydia could pretend that nothing had changed in her life. She would go on as usual, like going on shopping sprees with Allison or attending classes while being utterly bored out of her mind, since she already knew most of the curriculum by heart. By day she was still the same old Lydia, whose only problem was maintaining her popularity at school, but by night her mind was getting pulled into weird, murky landscapes, where darkness felt liquid and stuck to her body like mud.
The first time that had happened, she'd been spooked and terrified out of her mind that she was going to get stuck in there. But then she'd awoken as normal, and after that it was getting easier and easier to slip into those otherworldly, fantastic planes, filled with shadows and quiet voices whispering just loud enough for her to catch the glimpses of words, even though their meaning still eluded her. If only she listened harder, delved deeper, she would finally be able to understand it all-
"Hey Lydia, are you alright?"
She blinked, getting her eyes to focus on the person talking to her. Oh, it was only Stiles.
"Yeah, I'm fine, why do you ask?"
"I don't know, maybe because you zoned out and were totally unresponsive for almost five minutes?" His voice was full of sarcasm, before he sobered and added quietly: "Honestly, I'm worried about you."
"It's nothing, but- These dreams, I just can't stop thinking about them."
He bit his lip for a moment. "Look, I'm not an expert on any of this supernatural stuff, but maybe we could do some research together?"
"Why? What's in it for you?" she asked suspiciously.
"Nothing, why would you think that I want something from you?"
Lydia looked at him closer and realized that the boy was utterly baffled by her question, which made her think that something had changed in him, as well. There had been the times when he would blush an ugly shade of brick red in her vicinity and would stutter each time they talked. Apparently, that was no longer the case though, which probably meant that he'd finally abandoned his ridiculous plan of getting her to fall in love with him-
The realization hit her and she gasped loudly. "You're seeing someone!"
"What? How- No one was supposed to know," he spluttered, then sighed, resigned. "Am I that easy to read?"
She grinned triumphantly, so she hadn't lost her touch, after all!
"Don't worry, I'm just super perceptive, but you can still pass off as a timid virgin at a first glance," she patted him on the arm.
"Timid… Lydia!" he whined in protest, but she just laughed, totally unapologetic.
She was glad that he'd finally found some to be with, she really was. While she liked Stiles just fine, she'd never felt any sexual attraction to him, and she didn't do platonic relationships. After all, she was the very definition of hot and sexy, and expected the same of her bed partners. While she had to admit that Stiles was kinda cute, it made her want to coo at him, not jump him and drag him to bed...
She was distracted from her thoughts when a young Deputy entered the room, looking lost for a moment, before he straightened with a newfound self-confidence.
"Hi, is Scott in?" he asked no one in particular.
Stiles looked at him suspiciously. "Not yet. Why are you looking for Scott anyway? Did my dad, I mean the Sheriff, send you?"
The man looked absentmindedly at his uniform and shook his head. "No, I'm off duty, I didn't get the chance to change, though. Scott asked me to come to the pack meeting, so here I am," he explained, though that actually didn't explain much.
"And how do we know that you're telling the truth?" Stiles demanded, crossing arms across his chest.
Peter stepped forward and raised his hands up in a conciliatory gesture "Easy, I've met the guy and he really seemed to know Scott, though that wasn't exactly the best moment for an introduction. I'm Peter Hale, by the way," he added as he turned to the newcomer.
The Deputy shook his hand. "Jordan Parrish. And I know who you are, I know everyone here, so no need to tell me your names."
That sounded deliciously vague, and Lydia loved solving mysteries, so she moved to make a room on the sofa beside her. "Well, why don't you sit down and tell us more about yourself, then?" she smiled invitingly at him, hoping for a chance to interrogate him a little.
As if reading her thoughts, the man shook his head. "I'd rather sit next to Jackson over there, but thanks for the offer."
As he went to sit on a chair next to Jackson just as he'd said he would, Lydia gaped wordlessly at him. It didn't happen often that men resisted her charms, and when it did happen, it usually meant that they were gay, or had something to hide, and she wondered which one was the case here.
***
Jackson had seriously considered not attending the meeting, and the last-minute decision to come had been rash and impulsive, and he already started to regret it. He didn't belong here, he had fucked up his chance to become Scott's Beta, but considering his situation at home it wasn’t his main problem at the moment. So yeah, one day he'd gotten pissed out of his mind in order to forget about it all, and now he was totally screwed. So when a stranger sat down next to him, Jackson didn't feel like socialising at all and scowled at him fiercely.
"Listen, whoever you are and whatever your story is, I don't give a shit," he hissed.
The man looked at him, unperturbed. "That's fine with me. To be honest, it's exactly the reason why I sat with you, I don't know how much of my story Scott wants me to disclose anyway."
Despite himself, Jackson felt a tinge of curiosity, and couldn't help but ask: "Do you always do what Scott says?"
"Always. He orders, and I listen."
Jackson blinked, surprised by the simple, calm statement. He wanted to be like that, too, to be allowed to just follow and do what he was told. But he'd already failed the one assignment he'd been given and he didn't even have the time to make up for it. And maybe his Alpha didn't truly care about him, since Jackson couldn't remember when was the last time they'd talked, so it was really hard to believe that Scott would have the time or patience to help him out, now.
"Have you ever messed up any task that Scott gave you?" he asked hesitantly.
The man, Jordan, looked at him shrewdly. "Is that why you look like shit, you're afraid of his reaction to whatever you did or didn't do?" When Jackson nodded, he sighed. "Listen, Scott loves his pack unconditionally, you could make the biggest mess ever, and he would still support you. So stop fretting and just talk to him, alright?"
"But I'm not his packmate, not really." All because of his stupidity and lack of willpower his dream of getting the bite had slipped through his fingers, and he'd been so damn close...
Jordan snorted. "Sorry, but that's a load of crap. You're here, aren't you? Everyone here belongs to the pack, werewolf or human or banshee. Man up, and stop doubting yourself or Scott."
Jackson exhaled slowly. "Thanks… and sorry for my less than warm welcome." He had been quite rude, he now started to realize.
The man's mouth twitched, as if he was fighting a smile. "It's fine, I was a soldier, so I'm not some delicate flower you need to be careful around."
Soldier? Wow, that was impressive for someone who looked to be in his mid twenties… "Alright, I've changed my mind, I totally want to hear your story," he blurted, then blushed hotly.
Jordan didn't even try to fight the smile this time as he chuckled quietly, and Jackson thought idly that he liked the sound of it, very much.
***
When Scott opened the door to the apartment, he quickly scanned the room to see who was already there, but it looked like he was the last one to arrive. Everyone who knew about his time travel was already present: Stiles, Lydia, Allison, Isaac, Chris, Melissa, Peter, Derek, even Deaton was here, and he gave the emissary a quick nod before he saw that Jordan was present as well, sitting with Jackson in a corner, both looking quite cozy and at ease in each other's presence. Well, well, who would've thought that these two would hit it off so well, so quickly?...
When he entered the room with Deucalion by his side and the twins in tow, every pair of eyes stared at them, a few of them surprised, some accepting, but some were displeased or outright angry.
"Hi everyone, before you start telling me off for bringing the Alpha Pack to our meeting, I have an announcement to make, though some of you are already aware of it," he said, raising his voice a little. "Deucalion is my partner and I consider his pack my own, that’s why I asked them to come today. So even if you don't trust them, I hope that you trust me and my judgement."
There was a moment of silence, and then Lydia spoke up. "Wait, partner? Like an ally, or-"
"That, too, but actually I meant that we're in a romantic relationship," he explained, taking Deucalion's hand in his. It was cold and a little clammy, so he squeezed it gently, trying to put his lover at ease.
The girl pressed her lips tightly, then opened her mouth to say something before she closed it again. Finally, she stood up and walked up to them, then looked Deucalion up and down.
“I guess he’s not totally bad-looking, if you’re into middle aged men,” she commented wryly.
He barked out a surprised laugh. “Do I have to worry about you having your eyes on my lover?” he teased.
“Naah, you can have him,” Lydia shrugged, then flipped hair over her shoulder. “Can we start the meeting now, please? I have many great qualities, but patience is not one of them.”
“No kidding,” Stiles murmured loud enough for everyone to hear, and just like that, the tension was broken.
Chapter 140
Notes:
Aaand we've got another brilliant piece of fanart from the wonderful ardeidae2005! Thank you, dear, I love it!
Chapter Text
Deucalion exhaled deeply, Scott's pack had seemed to have taken his presence in stride, and he couldn’t help wondering why. Had they forgiven him for his past wrongdoings, or were they simply waiting to voice their objections when he and his pack were no longer present?
"I admit that I expected more resistance against me being here," he admitted once they sat down. "I'm curious though, why are you guys not fighting this?"
It was the blond boy, Isaac, who answered him.
"It's simple, Scott deserves to have someone special in his life, and even though I think he could've chosen better, we're all glad to see him happy. If you hurt him, though, everyone here is going to be after your head, just so you're aware of what you're getting into,” the boy warned.
"Duly noted. I have to say, though, that for a former boyfriend you're awfully protective of him," Deucalion commented carefully, wondering if he should start worrying about the kid still carrying a torch for Scott, despite their breakup.
"Are we really having this conversation now?" Isaac asked with his eyebrow raised. "Listen, I love Scott, though not in the way you're thinking, so you don't have to be afraid that I'm going to try to win him back or anything. I'm happy with Allison, thank you very much."
"That's… good," he said slowly. "Thank you for easing my mind."
"No problem, I'm glad that we've set the record straight."
There was something refreshing about Isaac's blunt honesty, and Deucalion finally started to understand why Scott had been involved with him in the first place. Underneath the insecurities that were normal for a boy his age, Deucalion could see glimpses of a much sterner core. There was a potential there, unrealized and uncultivated yet, but it was there, he could see it clearly.
"You would make an excellent werewolf, you know," he offered. Seeing as everyone was instantly on guard, he added, exasperated: "And before your friends decide to carry me out of the room on pitchforks like I'm some kind of a beast which can't control itself, I actually meant that as a compliment. You're stronger than you think."
"Um, thanks, I guess?" Isaac said awkwardly, though a pleased blush stained his cheeks. "It's funny, Peter once said the same thing, about me being a werewolf material."
The older Hale chuckled at that. "Well, you did threaten me with a steak knife then, so even though that wasn't the brightest thing to do, you clearly have guts, kid."
Hearing that, people started to laugh and joke around, the previous tension already forgotten.
Deucalion could feel Scott's arm sneaking around his back, pulling them closer to each other. He looked at his lover and seeing only tenderness and love in his eyes, he succumbed to the temptation and drew Scott into a gentle kiss. He didn't even care that almost a dozen people were watching them right now, the only thing that mattered to him was the way Scott's soft lips parted slightly, eagerly.
***
Being kissed by Deucalion in front of both their packs was like a dream come true for Scott. He'd always hoped for being open about their relationship, and it seemed that he would get his wish, after all. The kiss was gentle and loving, and Scott suppressed his disappointment when it eventually ended.
He looked around to see everyone's reactions, and was glad to see a couple of grins and thumbs up sent his and Deucalion's way. His mom looked resigned but didn't seem angry or disappointed with him, so that was something, at least. Maybe she finally started to get around the idea of them being together?...
He was surprised to see a frown on Jackson's face, though, and it worried him. Was the boy against their relationship? Was he still upset by the whole kidnapping thing?
"Hey Jackson, is everything alright?" he asked, just to be sure.
"I still don't get why you choose Deucalion of all people. You could have anyone, so why him?"
Scott opened his mouth to reply, but Jordan beat him to it.
"It kind of makes sense. Think about it that way: if a relationship is about equality, then Deucalion is the only one who can keep up with Scott in terms of pure power."
"That may be true, but it isn't the reason why I'm with Deucalion. You know that power doesn't matter all that much to me," Scott protested.
"I know, you're a hopeless romantic, so I bet that you simply fell head over heels for him," Jordan said with a playful smile. "But I still think that this relationship has the potential to last because Deucalion is close in strength to you. You need an equal partner, and we both know that besides me he's the closest match."
"Wait, besides you? Who are you? And how do you know each other, anyway?" Lydia asked, which reminded Scott that there was something he needed to do.
"Sorry Jordan, I should've introduced you earlier. Guys, meet Jordan Parrish, a Hellhound, who also remembers his previous life and everything that happened in the original timeline." There was a startled silence for a second before people started to talk all over themselves, so he stood up and raised his hands. "Easy, I'll answer all your questions, but I can only do it one at a time. So, Hellhound is a guardian of the supernatural, and it possesses its host's body in order to complete the task. Though in Jordan's case, they've learned to cohabitate, so he can access the Hellhound powers anytime he wants."
The pack looked at Jordan curiously, who gave them a lopsided grin. "You probably want a demonstration, right?" While saying that, he allowed his hands to ignite, causing everyone to gasp in a shocked awe. Well, everyone beside Melissa.
"I already saw that, but can you do more?" she asked curiously. "Or is the flame limited to your hands only?"
"I can let the fire consume my whole body, making me basically a living torch, but it causes my clothes to burn, so… Unless you want to see me butt naked, I'll just stop at igniting my hands, if you don't mind."
"Yes, that might be best," Melissa hurriedly confirmed, and Scott had to hide an amused smirk behind his hand.
"And you remember your previous life as well? How did that happen, did you perform the same ritual as Scott?" Lydia asked curiously.
Jordan shook his head. "The last thing I remember from that life was being shot in the head by the hunters. In all honesty, I was totally surprised by waking up in this timeline with all my memories intact."
"We still don't know how or why that happened, by the way," Scott added. "Any ideas, Alan?"
Deaton rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Hellhounds are immortal beings which exist beyond life and death. They are infinite, so it's possible that they can also transcend time… But I've never heard of something like that happening. Why would a Hellhound follow you to this timeline, I wonder?"
"Well, he's not just any Hellhound, he's literally mine," Scott admitted, wondering how he could even start explaining his relationship with Jordan. "You see, at first we weren't even all that close. But when the hunters started to eradicate the werewolves across the globe, the Hellhound in Jordan awoke fully and spoke to us. He said that his name was Cerberus and that he would serve me as his master if I swore to do everything in order to protect the supernatural world. But since I failed, well… I didn't expect that he would still follow me."
Jordan looked at him, surprised, a bit of orange light flashing through his eyes. "How could you have ever doubted that, I swore to follow you to whatever end, remember?"
Scott swallowed heavily, overwhelmed. He remembered the vow clearly, but his throat constricted so hard that for a moment he couldn't choke out a single word.
"Then let me repeat it once again," without even a smallest sign of embarrassment or self-consciousness, Jordan/Cerberus stepped forward and knelt before him, his eyes shining brightly. "I swear to always follow you, in life and death, my body standing between you and your enemies for as long as I draw breath. Will you accept my vow?"
Not trusting his voice, Scott nodded, then pulled him up and hugged his Hellhound tightly. He cried silently as he remembered all the times when Jordan had taken upon himself to fulfil the vow, literally protecting him with his own body. He couldn't count how many bullets the man had taken - for him.
"Don't you dare die like that on me ever again," he finally choked out.
"Can't promise you that, Commander, you know that your life is much more valuable than mine," Jordan rebuked him gently. "So just try not to do anything stupid, like going into a fight alone as if you were a one-man army, alright?"
Scott laughed wetly. "I know that you'd have my hide if I pulled such a stunt."
"You can bet that I would!"
For a long moment they simply held each other, relishing in the feeling of being alive together, knowing that no matter what would happen, they had each other’s backs.
***
Hearing Jordan's solemn vow to Scott moved Jackson in ways he wasn't prepared for. He wanted to be in Jordan's place, swearing loyalty to the only person he had ever trusted with everything that he was. But he was only a sixteen year old boy who had troubles handling his own life, so what could he truly offer to Scott? After all, the Alpha already had a Hellhound at his beck and call, a mythological, immortal creature who commanded fire with such an ease that it seemed so effortless like a snap of fingers… How could Jackson ever compete with that?
Evidently, Scott didn’t need him, and he hated to be a burden, or a leech which would only take without giving back. No, he knew that Scott would be better off without him, so he needed to leave before he made a fool out of himself by bursting into tears in front of everybody.
Clenching his jaw painfully, he stood up and ran out of the apartment. His body shook from all the pent-up emotions and fighting back tears, so he had to clutch the railing in order to keep himself from falling on his ass like some kind of an idiot or worse, a cripple.
Just as he was pondering his own uselessness, he heard a person running after him down the stairs.
“Jackson, wait! Are you alright? What happened?” Scott asked, grabbing his shoulder.
“You’re fucking Deucalion now and you’re gathering your old lackeys, is that why we barely speak to each other anymore? You’ve decided that you have better things to do than to talk to me, is that it?” he asked harshly, then regretted his words instantly, but it was already too late to take them back
Scott’s face darkened for a moment and he looked ready to snap, before his eyes gentled a little. “I don’t appreciate your tone, but I can sense that you’re hurting something awful, and it’s not only about me not spending enough time with you. So, what is this truly about?”
Jackson silently cursed the enhanced werewolf senses and looked away, ashamed. “I’ve started drinking again,” he mumbled, staring at the floor. “I’m a lost cause, so maybe you should seriously consider giving the bite to Isaac, instead.”
Scott sighed. “You’re not a lost cause, so stop saying that. Come on, let’s sit down and talk about this.” They sat on the stairs next to each other and were silent for a moment. “Look, I know that you drink to escape your problems, so can you tell me what happened? Is this about your father?”
Jackson hid his face in his hands. “My parents… They- they’re divorcing,” he stuttered, for the first time admitting it to someone. Somehow, saying it out loud made it even more final, unavoidable.
“Shit, that’s awful! I’m so sorry, Jackson, I didn’t know,” Scott murmured, embracing him with one arm and gently pulling him closer. “I wish you came to me instead of resorting to drinking, but I can't blame you, since I behaved much worse when my parents were going through divorce. So don't worry, it doesn't ruin your chances of becoming my Beta, if it's still something that you want."
There was nothing he wanted more, but… It wasn’t that simple.
“That’s not all,” Jackson sniffled, burying his head in his Alpha’s chest, wanting to stay like that forever but knowing that his time with the pack was coming to an end. “My mom is moving back to her family in Pittsburgh, and my father got a job in London. So no matter who I’m going to land with, I’m going to leave Beacon Hills soon.”
Chapter 141
Notes:
Reading one comment about lack of action in this story made me realize that most of you guys have been exceptionally patient with me, putting up with my slow, detailed pace without any complaints, and I'm thankful for that. I appreciate your patience and your faith in me that I know where I want this story to go, and that we'll get there step by tiny step.
Also, I unashamedly borrowed a quote from Glee and used it in this chapter, just because I could. Kudos to everyone who'll be able to catch it!
Chapter Text
Being an Alpha must be the toughest thing in the world, Scott thought to himself. Knowing that his whole pack counted on him to always know what to do and to find a way out of every problem sometimes felt like a huge weight on his shoulders that he could never really be free of. It would help if he could actually be an omnipotent, all-powerful being who never makes any mistakes, but the truth was… he wasn't. He'd failed Cora and in doing so, he'd also let Derek and Peter down. The knowledge from his previous life could only get him this far, he knew that all too well.
But just when he started to doubt himself, he reminded himself how lucky he was to even have this second chance to make things right. So many people looked up to him, true, but their presence in his life was probably the biggest gift he could've been given, and being responsible for their lives wasn’t and would never be a burden.
That's why when he was holding Jackson in his arms, comforting the boy over the fact that his whole life was crumbling around him, he realized exactly what he needed to do, human morals be damned. This was about the pack, and that trampled everything else.
“Do you wish you could stay in Beacon Hills?” he asked to make sure that this was what Jackson wanted.
“Of course, but my wishes don’t matter, they never do,” the boy said dejectedly. “My parents will force me to leave, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”
“Well, there’s something that I could do, but it’s going to be your call if you want to go down that route or not.” Jackson looked at him with a shy hope laced with uncertainty, so he didn’t stall any longer. “You know that I can enter people’s minds to access their memories, right? Well, I can literally do everything then, whether it’s removing, altering, or even implanting false memories. I can make your parents think that letting you stay in Beacon Hills was their idea and that they both agreed to it… But I would need your consent for that.”
Jackson’s eyes widened in shock. “And you could do this… to anyone?”
“Well, almost,” he admitted. “There might be some supernatural beings that are resistant to mind-alterations, but humans and werewolves are usually free game. There are reasons why Alphas are considered so dangerous, and our physical strength is only one of them. This is the other.” Seeing the wariness on Jackson's face, he hurried to explain: “Think about it like a tool: it can be used for good purposes, like healing someone’s mind after a traumatic event, but it can also mess someone up pretty badly. What I'm offering is a bit of a grey area: your parents won’t get hurt, but we’re going to take the decision off their hands. So if you're not comfortable with that…”
“How’s that worse than what they’ve been doing to me my entire life, never listening to what I say and ignoring my needs?” Jackson said bitterly. “At least you're giving me a choice, something they've never thought to do.”
“I’d never do something like this without getting the green light from you first,” he assured the boy. “Listen, memory modification is the last resort. You could try talking to them first, explaining that staying in Beacon Hills is important to you. Give them the chance and then we'll see if my intervention is really needed."
Jackson exhaled slowly. "Alright, let's try that first, and if it doesn't work... We'll try the other method then."
"Of course, just let me know and I'll do it."
"Um, about what you said earlier, did you mean it when you said that I can still become your Beta?" jackson looked at him hopefuly.
He nodded, he honestly missed having young Betas in his pack whom he could teach how to master their new skills and be their guide into the supernatural world. Peter and Derek were the best packmates ever, but they were born werewolves who didn’t know how it feels to be a human, and how frightening the change into a werewolf can be.
"If this is what you truly want, then yes. When you're ready, I’ll give you the bite,” he promised.
Jackson looked at him tentatively and asked: "I want it and I'm ready, so… How about now?"
***
Ever since he'd become aware of the supernatural world, Jackson wanted to become a part of it. Being a part of something special made you special, right? Not to mention, having an Alpha who would always care for him and a whole pack which would support him no matter what, it was something he'd been missing his entire life, he just hadn't realized what that aching emptiness inside him truly was. But now that he knew that it was a place where a pack bond should be, there was nothing he wouldn't do to fill it.
However, once Scott heard his suggestion, he stared at him, clearly taken aback, and Jackson deflated a little. He knew that he'd messed up his first assignment, but if it wasn't for his parents' splitting up he would've managed to stay away from alcohol just as he was supposed to. He was determined to show Scott that he was ready to become a werewolf, and he would do everything to convince the Alpha that he was serious about it.
"Do you want me to prove myself first? Tell me what I need to do, and I'll do it," he promised.
"Under any other circumstances I'd say that you should give your task another try and not give up so easily, but in this case... Even though the full moons will be tough, the pack bond will help you get through your parents' divorce so I think it's worth it. Still, are you sure? Because once I give you the bite, there’s no taking it back, this is for life," Scott looked at him seriously.
Jackson reddened a little. "This is the reason why I want it, actually." He wanted the change to be permanent, because that meant that the link between Scott and him would be permanent too.
"Okay, but let's do this after the meeting, alright? And you need to let your parents know that you're going to be staying with me tonight, and maybe tomorrow as well, since we're going to need physical contact in order for the bond to settle properly."
It was Jackson's turn to stare at Scott with shock. "So, we're doing this? For real?"
The Alpha's eyes were shining brightly as he said: "Yes, we're going to make a proper werewolf out of you."
Jackson couldn't believe it, he was going to get his wish and get the bite! He was going to be faster, stronger, but most of all… He wasn't going to be alone ever again. Seeing that he was literally rendered speechless, Scott hugged him tightly, and Jackson shamelessly savored every second of it.
When they went back to the apartment, everyone looked at them curiously.
"Sorry for interrupting the meeting, guys. I was a little depressed, and needed a moment to clear my head." He took a deep breath. "You see, my parents are divorcing, and I just needed someone to remind me that I'm not alone."
Everyone looked shocked by his words, especially Lydia who gasped loudly. It was Mellisa who approached him, though.
"Of course you're not alone, you have all of us to help you get through this," she assured him and rubbed his back comfortingly.
"Thanks Mrs McCall, I really appreciate it," he said honestly, because Scott's mom was truly the best. "Um, would you mind if I slept at your place for a day or two? You see, Scott's going to give me the bite today and he said that we'll need to stay close-"
"Today?" She asked, stunned. "Um, of course, but don't you think that it's a little rushed?"
"Actually, it's been a long time coming," he said confidently and straightened a bit when he saw a proud smile on Scott's face.
***
After a series of questions, explanations and finally congratulations they all sat down again. Scott exhaled and looked at his pack thoughtfully. There were still important things they needed to discuss, and loath as he was to ruin the relaxed atmosphere, this couldn't be avoided any longer.
"I hate to spoil the mood and bring up difficult topics, but there are some things that you all need to be told about. Firstly, there is one person from outside of the pack that will be joining the meeting soon, but I told her to come an hour later than the rest of us, so we still have some time to discuss things between us. Secondly… We discovered who was the hunter's latest victim that Lydia saw in her dream, and I'm sad to say that it was Derek's sister and Peter's niece, Cora," he took a deep breath as he allowed the grave news to sink in. "I know that most of you haven't gotten the chance to meet her, but... she would've joined our pack, if she was alive."
"Fuck, that's…" Stiles shook his head, for a moment completely lost for words. "It's so awful, I can't tell you how much I feel sorry for you guys."
"Thank you, Stiles, we appreciate it," Peter said while Derek nodded gratefully.
"When are we going to catch and punish the culprits?" Lydia asked eagerly, her eyes gleaming with a surprising amount of bloodthirstiness and thirst for revenge because of a girl she hadn't even known. Seeing Cora's death in a vision must have made the difference, Scott mused.
"The man who was responsible for her capture is already dead," Chris said grimly. "I killed him myself."
"Wait, but wasn't that-" Lydia's eyes opened widely.
"Yes, that was my father, and as I said, he has already been dealt with," Chris confirmed dispassionately.
Scott could almost taste the tension in the air and wished that he could comfort the man, but just as he got up from his chair, Chris was embraced by Peter and Melissa. Scott decided to give them a moment and went to sit next to Stiles, instead.
"Could you stay with Derek today?" he murmured in his ear.
Stiles looked at him morosely as he whispered back: "Are you sure that he even wants me to? After all, he didn't even tell me about what happened to his sister."
"Trust me, if he withheld information from you, it's only because he wanted to protect you."
Stiles snorted. "Protect me from what?"
"From himself. Some people cry when they grieve, but Derek's first reaction is anger," Scott explained softly.
That finally seemed to get to Stiles, who nodded with understanding. "Alright, if he wants me to, I'll stay."
“Thank you,” knowing that his friend wasn’t the biggest fan of being hugged, Scott squeezed his hand gratefully, and was happy when Stiles returned the gesture.
Chapter Text
At first glance, Beacon Hills was yet another boring, sleepy place which could pass off as a carbon copy of every other town in that area. That's why Braeden had been so surprised to hear from Araya that it had attracted the attention of several Alphas who, miraculously, seemed happy enough to coexist on the same territory without breaking into a fight. Such amenable, peaceful behaviour was unheard of among werewolves, and even though Araya had seemed to have taken it in stride and instructed her to simply act as a delivery girl for Hale family's keepsake, Braeden had instantly become suspicious.
Even though she had accepted the assignment, enticed by the hefty payment, Braeden couldn't shake the feeling that Araya hadn't been totally open with her. Maybe the problem was that the money offered by the woman seemed too much for such an easy task? There was something fishy going on here, and she didn't like it, at all.
One of the details that didn't add up was her contact point in Beacon Hills. Araya had ordered her to speak to Scott McCall, who turned out to be an Alpha werewolf, but also a sophomore in the local high school. How in the world had a teenager become an Alpha, Braeden had no idea. And why did the Calaveras want her to hand the box to him specifically and not anyone else? What was the boy's connection to both Araya and the Hales?...
Nothing in this assignment made any sense, and it irked her to no end. She hadn't felt that way since the hunt for the Desert Wolf, which to this day was still work in progress, though if she was being completely honest with herself, it seemed to be on a permanent hiatus, since she'd hit a dead end with that case. She hoped that the mystery surrounding Scott McCall would be easier to solve than discovering the Desert Wolf's identity, though.
The first impression she'd had after calling him was that the teen seemed harmless enough, though she knew better than to underestimate an Alpha werewolf regardless of his age. Also, he'd invited her to the pack meeting, but she couldn't decide if he'd done that as a sign of trust, or it was the other way around and he didn't trust her enough to meet with her alone and needed his pack to have his back.
She glanced at the building in front of her and double checked the address she'd received from him. After making sure that she was at the correct place, she swung the bag over her shoulder and went inside. She took two steps at once and soon she was on the fifth floor, just in time to see a young blond boy, fourteen, fifteen at most, pressing his ear to the door.
"What do you think you’re doing?" She smirked when the boy jumped at the sound of her voice and looked at her with huge, startled eyes.
"Um, visiting a friend?"
"Does your friend know that you like to spy on him?" she raised her eyebrow.
"What, no! I mean, I'm not spying, I just- I wanted to hear what they're talking about," he finished awkwardly.
She rolled her eyes, because to her it sounded awfully like spying, but it wasn't her job to drill the boy about it. "Look kid, I don't care either way, but next time try to come up with a more convincing excuse. Now move, I have better things to do than chatting with you."
He took a step to the side so that she could move past him, but in that moment the doors opened, revealing a slightly older teen with dark brown eyes and olive skin, who blinked surprised to see the two of them standing together.
"Liam, what are you doing up here? Do you need anything?"
The kid looked upset for a moment, before he set his jaw stubbornly. "I heard you talking with that other guy, Jackson. Why does he get to join your pack but I don't?"
The older teen ran his hand through his hair. "Liam, that's not the best moment, I have business to do with Braeden here. I'll talk with you tomorrow, alright?"
The boy looked down and said nothing, though his slumped shoulders spoke volumes about how he was feeling.
Scott (or at least Breaden assumed it was him) sighed heavily. "Listen, the last few days have been difficult, Derek has lost his sister, and I'm trying my best to make sure that the pack is fine. I didn't forget about you, I'm just putting out the fires at the moment."
The kid looked up, his eyes wide. "I'm sorry, I didn't know about Derek's sister. I didn't mean to be a bother."
"You could never be a bother and I promise that we're going to talk tomorrow. Alright?"
The boy nodded wordlessly and went downstairs, though his expression was no longer as dejected as before.
Braeden observed all of that with interest. If the Derek they had been talking about was Derek Hale, then her earlier assumption that the McCall kid had some connection to the Hale pack turned out to be correct.
"The kid wants to be a werewolf? Wow, you recruit them really young," she commented.
"'Recruit' is too big of a word, I'm not actively encouraging him or anything. But I know that you didn’t come here to discuss Liam, so please come in."
Braeden took the invitation, intrigued despite herself. There was something… off about the teen, and for a moment she couldn't pinpoint what it was, when it hit her. He spoke like a businessman and was acting much too composed and confident for someone his age. Considering that she hadn't heard about him until recently and he seemed to have already forged connections with prominent hunter and werewolf families, the true question was: who was he?
***
Seeing Braeden for the first time in this timeline wasn't as emotional as meeting his packmates had been, but it still brought back memories from his previous life. Despite the fact that she'd always claimed to be driven by money, the higher the bounty the better, Braeden had shown a surprising amount of loyalty to his pack, Derek especially. And even though he knew that for this Braeden he was nothing more than a stranger and that he couldn't trust her yet, he hoped that she could become his ally again.
"How was your trip from Mexico?" he asked as he led her to the living room.
"Are you really trying to exchange niceties with a hired gun?" she asked wryly.
For a moment he wondered if it was really that rare occurrence, and if that was the case, why anyone would willingly choose the life of a mercenary, but he decided not to say it out loud and try to lighten up the mood, instead.
"Well, just because you're a mercenary doesn't mean that I should act like an uncivilised ogre, does it?" he winked at her.
"It better not be a flirting attempt," she looked at him suspiciously, and he chuckled.
"Don't worry, my heart has already been claimed by another, so no, I'm not flirting with you."
"That's a relief, it would be awkward as hell," she muttered under her breath, and he had to agree with her, despite the fact that she was a beautiful young woman, he'd never felt any kind of sexual or romantic attraction to her. Though he couldn't tell if it was because she had been dating Derek at that time or because she'd admitted that she would kill him if money was good enough...
When they entered the room, everyone looked at them with interest.
"Everyone, this is Braeden, she's a mercenary hired by Araya," he introduced her, then turned to the girl: "Why don't you sit down?"
"No need, I was only supposed to make a delivery," she said, then put her bag on the floor, opened it and took the Triskelion urn out, then handed it to him.
He exhaled with relief, up to this moment he was afraid that Araya wouldn't honor their deal and return the box as she'd promised to. This was one of his conditions for allowing her men to go free after Allison had been shot, but he didn't have any guarantee that Araya would actually keep her word. Now that he had the urn in his hands, he was honestly relieved that he didn't have to travel to Mexico again to retrieve it by force. He would if he needed to, but he’d rather not leave Beacon Hills unless it couldn’t be avoided.
Derek stood up abruptly. "Wait, this urn belonged to my family. How did the Calaveras come into possession of it?"
Braeden looked at him dispassionately. "Do you really think that Araya shared the story with me? I don't even know what the box is, much less how she got it. I was paid to bring it to Scott McCall, and so I did. Now excuse me, I have places to be."
Scott cleared his throat. "Actually, would you mind staying in Beacon Hills for a few days? I might have a business proposition for you but I need to wrap up the details first."
The girl folded her arms across her chest. "Firstly, I don't like to sit idly and wait for someone to make up their mind, and secondly, I don't make deals with kids."
"For this, I'm sure that you'll make an exception."
She looked at him unimpressed. "Why would I?"
"Two words: Desert Wolf," he revealed, and enjoyed the way her eyes widened in shock.
"You don't know shit, you're making things up," she said accusatorily.
Hearing that, Deucalion straightened up. "Watch your tongue, girl," he said with deceptive calmness, but Scott could sense the anger building up in him.
"Deucalion, it's alright, I've got this," he murmured.
Hearing the name, Braeden snorted. "You want me to believe that he's the Alpha Pack's leader? Because last time I checked, Deucalion was blind, so nice try."
Scott shrugged. "What you believe or don't believe is not really my business, but if you're interested in learning the Desert Wolf's identity, you'll stay around for a couple of days."
For a moment she looked as if she'd bit into a lemon, before curiosity won over her reluctance and she nodded.
When Braeden left, Scott exhaled deeply. "Alright guys, I know that this may all be confusing to you, so let me try to explain. You probably wondered why I haven't brought Lydia to the Nemeton yet, right?" When everyone nodded, he continued: "Well, the reason is that the tree's roots hide one of the most dangerous creatures I've ever encountered, a dark spirit called Nogitsune who possesses people and feeds on strife, fear and anger around them. Last time, we didn't find a way to kill it, but we do know how to trap it. And for that we need-" he pointed at the urn in his hand, "-this."
"A wooden box?" Allison asked dubiously.
"What is it, some kind of weapon? Does it throw fireballs?" Stiles bounced, excited, looking at the urn as if it was some magical artifact out of fantasy movies.
Scott rolled his eyes. "No, it's not a weapon…"
"It's a prison," Jordan finished. "And we need to capture the bastard inside."
"So this Nogi- whatever, this demon spirit will fit into this?" Isaac looked skeptically at the small urn.
"When not inhabiting anyone's body, Nogitsune assumes the form of a fly. The trick is to get it inside the box before it possesses anyone," Scott explained.
"So let me get this straight, there's an evil spirit in Beacon Hills capable of possessing people and we only hear about it now?" Lydia glared.
"Scott, you know that I'd hate to criticize your decisions, but…" Chris said carefully.
"But Lydia's right, I know. I should've told you about it earlier, but the thing is… Nogitsune is only a small fraction of what you need to know. That's why I've written everything down." He crouched down to open his backpack, then pulled a sheaf of papers. "I think I've printed enough copies, so grab one for yourselves and pass the rest," he said while handing the bundle to the twins.
"Is this your recollection of the events from your first life?" Deaton asked, his eyes gleaming with anticipation, and Scott had to stifle a laugh at the man's barely contained eagerness.
"Yes, everything that I remembered and thought could be useful. People, places, dates, but also bits of arcane knowledge we'd managed to get our hands on. Just please, remember that it was a completely different life, and things were different back then." He thought about Jackson's actions as a Kanima, or how Peter had collaborated with Kate in order to make him into a Berserker, and became worried that after reading about it the pack would become distrustful of each other. "Please promise me that you won't let my memories influence how you view one another, and that you won't judge anyone here based on their actions back then," he added.
"It's not pretty, is it?" Peter asked, and when Scott shook his head sadly, he grimaced. "I'm not sure if I want to read it, then. It's enough to know that I was a bastard, I don't need to have it spelled out."
"But you're not that person and I fully trust you not to make similar mistakes now."
Peter nodded gratefully but Scott could still sense his apprehension, so he sent a pulse of care and warmth down their link, and was happy to see Peter's shoulders finally relaxing.
Chapter 143
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Jackson exhaled shakily, feeling as if he'd just run a mile and not five storeys down the stairs and outside the building.
When everyone had started to read Scott's memoir, he'd been excited to find out what the other him had turned out to be. Human or werewolf, he wondered, which path he'd chosen back then? He never would have guessed that he'd been a cold blooded murderer, and even worse, one who killed people just because some fucker ordered him to do it... How much messed up in the head he'd had to be to have become such a monster, both metaphorically and literally?
And if he was being totally honest with himself, it was quite possible that history would repeat itself. Weren’t emotional issues the very reason why the other Jackson had rejected the Alpha’s bite and turned into this snake-like thing that went into a killing spree? Well, with his parents’ divorce he was in an even worse place than usual, so who could guarantee that this whole nightmare wouldn't happen again?
Not to mention, the quote that while werewolves seek a pack, a Kanima seeks a master… It hit home, painfully so, for reasons that he was too ashamed to admit, even in the privacy of his own mind.
"Learning about all that happened in the previous timeline isn't easy, I know."
He turned around abruptly, only to see Jordan standing in the doorway.
"No shit," he rasped. He didn't know if he should feel flattered that the man came down to talk to him, or disappointed that it wasn't Scott.
As if reading his thoughts, Jordan said quietly: "Scott cares about you too much to be absolutely honest with you, and I think this is what you need right now. That's why I asked him if I could talk to you."
He laughed bitterly. "I'm going to become this Kanima thing again, is this what you wanted to tell me?"
The man looked at him thoughtfully, and Jackson fought the urge to fidget under his intense stare.
"You could, since you're still as emotionally unstable and uncertain of yourself as the last time."
He closed his eyes. This was it, then. He couldn't possibly ask Scott for the bite, not when there was a high chance that he'd go down the same road… But what was he worth, without an Alpha and a pack to call his own? He suddenly felt trapped, with no way out, and his breathing sped up.
"I don't think that you will, though," Jordan continued, and Jackson's head snapped up.
"What- why?" he asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.
"Because you don't seem that desperate," the man explained calmly. "It's true that emotional issues were the reason that the other you was so susceptible to Matt's influence, but he had to be truly desperate to accept such a poor excuse of a master."
He barked out a surprised laugh. "Matt sounds like a prick, doesn't he?"
Jordan's mouth twitched. "Believe me, you can do so much better than become a mindless servant and a killing machine for a guy who let one single event from his childhood define his own life. Even though you're still struggling with your own issues, the point is, you are trying, and facing whatever shit life throws at you. So as long as you keep doing that, I don't think you need to fear becoming a Kanima ever again."
He took a deep breath, then another. "Are you sure?"
The man shrugged. "No one can be one hundred percent sure, but let's just say that I have a hunch that this time the bite is going to take. You already have a strong connection with Scott, and I don't imagine that you would reject it, even on a subconscious level."
"I'd never…!" The mere thought of rejecting his Alpha seemed both outrageous and outlandish at the same time.
"There you have it," Jordan smiled slightly. "Trust me, you're going to be fine."
Almost reflexively, Jackson returned his smile and realized that the crippling feeling of being trapped suddenly left him. He could still become Scott's Beta and form a pack bond with him, he thought excitedly. In that moment he started to finally believe that no matter how bleak his situation may seem, things would be alright.
"Thanks," he said, then asked curiously: "Um, were you close to- well, the other me?"
Jordan raised his eyebrow. "Me, close to Jackson? Besides the fact that at some point he joined Scott's pack, no, not at all."
"Then why-" he hesitated for a moment, not knowing what to ask. Why was Jordan so nice to him? Why had he come down here to talk with him? Why had he even bothered, if they hadn't been close in the man's first life?
"Believe it or not, but the fact that we didn't know each other all that well is a good thing. Talking to you is easier for me, since I don't have that many memories of the other you. Looking at Lydia, Chris or Stiles… it's hard."
For a split second, Jordan's face was contorted by a painful grimace, and Jackson reacted impulsively; feeling awkward but also strangely good as he rubbed the man's arm comfortingly.
"I can't imagine how awful it must feel, to be surrounded by the people you used to know who now don't recognize you."
Jordan looked tired and weary as he said: "Well, at least everyone is still alive, so I have no right to complain."
"You know, if you ever want to talk to someone or just hang around, you can call me," he blurted, and his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
It was stupid, Jordan was a time traveller, a war veteran, and if that wasn't enough, also a host of a powerful, immortal being (even though Jackson still wasn't exactly sure how that worked), so why would he even be interested in spending his free time with a teenager like him-
"Thanks, I'll definitely take you up on your offer. Now come on, let's go back inside." While saying this, Jordan put an arm loosely around his shoulders and gently beckoned him forward.
Feeling strangely boneless, Jackson went with him without resistance. His skin felt weird too, hot and overly sensitive in places where the man's body touched his. It’s probably a Hellhound thing, he thought to himself, Jordan must have a higher body temperature than humans do.
He was almost entirely sure that it was that and not something else.
When they got back to the fifth floor, he said sheepishly: "Sorry for the disappearing act… again. I guess that learning about myself, well, the other me, wasn't the easiest."
"You probably stopped reading after the Kanima part, right? Well let me tell you man, my story didn't turn out much better," Stiles muttered, his face deathly pale.
"What happened to you?" he asked curiously.
"Remember that evil spirit capable of possessing people? Guess who got possessed and was responsible for Allison's death, then."
"Wait, Allison died?" He looked at the girl who was curled in her dad's protective embrace. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be such a drama queen when it's clear that the whole tale is just awful."
"You're not a drama queen, but yes, it's true that no one in that other timeline had a happy ending. That's what we're trying to prevent." Scott stood up to address the pack. "Alright guys, I think we'll stop now, you can finish reading at home. In the next few days we'll plan our next moves, especially regarding the Nemeton and the Nogitsune. And the last thing today… Jackson, do you want me to give you the bite now?"
He gulped. "Whoa, with everyone watching?"
"Becoming a werewolf is not something to be ashamed of, it's a joyous event which should be celebrated," Scott reasoned. "But if you'd feel better if we were alone for this, it's fine."
Was it going to hurt a lot? Jackson wondered, but he reckoned that it couldn't be more painful than some of the injuries he'd gotten while playing lacrosse. He couldn't deny that he was feeling nervous and maybe also a little self-conscious, though.
"I'm not ashamed, but it just seems- I don't know, too private to share?" he said awkwardly, trying to put his scattered thoughts into words.
"Alone it is, then," Scott nodded with understanding. "Alright guys, let's call it a night, thank you all for coming."
***
When Jackson had run out of the room twice in a row, Scott had been worried that it was all too much for the boy, and apparently he wasn't the only one feeling concerned. He'd been surprised when Jordan had said that he wanted to go after Jackson and have a talk with him. He didn't know what was going on between these two, in the first life they hadn't been particularly close so it came as a complete surprise to see them almost joined at the hip. But once they came back, Jackson seemed much calmer and sure of himself, so Scott wasn't going to complain.
Once he wrapped up the meeting, he turned to Deucalion and kissed him goodbye, just because he could. "I'll see you tomorrow, is that alright?"
"You can see me anytime and how often you'd like," Deucalion murmured into his ear.
For a moment Scott felt miserable that they couldn't live together, to fall asleep and wake up beside each other, and he had to shake himself out of it as he started to daydream how wonderful it would feel.
He did a quick round to give everyone a goodbye hug, and in the meantime heard that Isaac was coming with Chris and Allison to their house.
"You know, Jackson wanted to do the deed in private, so…" Isaac wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Scott smacked him lightly on the arm.
“Prat,” he muttered, then hugged him tightly.
***
Later in the evening, when he and Jackson went to his room, he couldn't help but notice that the boy seemed nervous and tense.
"Hey, is everything alright?" he asked, putting a hand on his shoulder. "We don't need to do this if you're having second thoughts."
"No!" Jackson protested hotly. "I mean, no second thoughts. It's just- I've waited for this for quite some time and now that it's finally happening, it's a little hard to believe, you know?”
He nodded with understanding. "Such a big change can be daunting, even if it’s something you want. Tell me when you're ready, and don't worry, I can wait," he assured the boy.
His own change into a werewolf had been forced onto him, and he didn't wish anyone else to experience the same terror that he'd felt that day in the woods when Peter had bitten him. He swore to himself that all his future Betas will receive the bite exactly as it should be received, with care, safety and trust.
He observed Jackson as the teen closed his eyes and breathed deeply a couple of times.
"I'm ready," the teen’s voice was unusually quiet but Scott couldn't detect any fear or doubt in it.
"Alright, I'll need to bite you quite deeply, so it might hurt a lot. But don't worry, once it's done I'll absorb some of your pain so it’ll be easier to bear."
Jackson nodded, and even though he still seemed a little nervous, his eyes gleamed with anticipation. "Do it."
Scott focused on his inner wolf and pulled it to the surface, feeling his body shifting and his canine teeth lengthening into fangs. He knew that his irises shone with an Alpha red light, but despite it Jackson looked him straight in the eye, meeting his stare without hesitation. That's when he knew for sure that it wasn't a mistake and that Jackson was truly made for the supernatural world, so he didn't stall any longer and clenched his jaw on the teen's forearm.
He felt his fangs scratching the bone and his mouth filling up with blood as Jackson gasped loudly, struggling in his hold. He waited a couple of seconds more just to be extra sure that the bite was going to take, then put his mouth away from the wound. Seeing that Jackson's eyes were glazed with pain, he quickly grabbed the teen's hand and focused on absorbing as much of it as he could into himself.
"I've got you," he murmured.
"Always?" Jackson asked wistfully, and the sound of it almost broke Scott's heart.
"Always."
He wiped the blood off his lips, grabbed an adhesive bandage he had prepared beforehand and put it on the wound. He then started to strip down to his underwear, but seeing Jackson's startled look, he smiled calmingly.
"Easy, it's only to allow more skin-on-skin contact which helps the bond to settle properly," he explained, then helped Jackson to undress, mindful of his wounded forearm.
He turned off the light, then pulled the boy under the duvet with him. He spooned Jackson from behind, kissing the nape of his neck chastely as he felt the tendril of their blooming pack bond touching his mind. Amazingly, it felt as if someone tickled him and he chuckled quietly.
"Why are you laughing?" Jackson asked, surprised.
"Our link, it's acting playful. It's tickling me, the little tease," he said with a grin, then focused on the bond and nudged it a little to send the sensations in Jackson's direction, who let out a very unmanly giggle.
"Whoa- You were right, it tickles! But when Peter described it, it sounded completely different, like it was deep and overwhelming. Why does our link feel so soft and... fluffy?"
Scott grinned, hearing no small amount of indignation in Jackson's voice.
"Each bond is slightly different and has a unique feel to it. Not to mention, ours is very fresh and new, so give it some time and it will deepen, don't worry," he assured his Beta, then pulled him closer for a proper cuddle.
Notes:
Alright, this might turn out a Jordan/Jackson romance after all, I can't help it, it just writes itself that way! Though if it happens, it's going to be a really minor/background relationship, similarly to Sterek.
Chapter 144
Notes:
It's the time for Liam's and his parents' point of view, what do you say? :)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
David watched his stepson fidget on the chair and check his watch for what seemed like the tenth time in the last five minutes, and suppressed a sigh. While it was understandable that Liam was excited about Scott's visit, he couldn't help but think that this level of emotional dependency had already exceeded simple friendship and couldn't be entirely healthy.
It was already worrying when Scott had been teaching Liam the anger management techniques, but after the attack on their family it had quickly become clear that if Liam could, he would attach himself to the older teen and never let him go. The young werewolf was somewhere between a friend, a hero, and a God himself in Liam's eyes. And while David could admit that it wasn't without a reason - the way Scott had healed him seemed like nothing short of a miracle - it was still disconcerting to see Liam so dependent and clingy.
At the same time, he couldn't forbid the boys from seeing each other, since it would feel wrong, for so many reasons. First, the most obvious, was the fact that their whole family owed Scott so much that he wasn't sure they would be ever able to repay the teen for saving them all. Jenna was still jumpy around men, but he couldn't imagine how much worse it would be if their attackers had had the chance to act on their plans. If Scott hadn't intervened at that exact moment… David didn't even want to think about the alternative.
Another reason why he didn't think that separating the boys would be a good idea was that it would break Liam's heart, and cause discord in their family, which was the last thing they needed, especially now. Not to mention, Scott had proved time and time again that he cared for Liam a great deal, and had done nothing to deserve their scorn of mistrust. Well, maybe besides keeping secrets, which - considering the magnitude of those - was quite understandable.
Still, Liam was and will always be David's first priority, so he had to consider his son's best interests here. The problem was, for the first time ever he couldn't decide what those best interests actually were.
"Hey, what are you thinking about?" Jenna squeezed his hand lightly, and he was thankful that they had each other.
"Everything, I guess. But mostly Scott and Liam…"
"Well, maybe let's wait for that until Scott arrives?" she suggested delicately.
"You're right, of course," he squeezed her hand back.
It was the least he could do, to let Scott explain more about his world and how they all fit in, Liam especially, since it was clear as a day that their son wanted to follow in the Alpha’s footsteps.
***
When Scott arrived, Liam jumped up and ran to the door so fast that he almost tripped over the carpet's edge, but he didn't let that stop him from being the first to open the door. He pulled Scott inside and squeezed him tightly around the waist.
"You're here," he mumbled into the older teen's chest and felt the vibrations of Scott's amused chuckle gently rocking his body.
"I told you I'll come, didn't I?"
"Yeah, but-"
"No buts, kiddo," Scott circled him with his arms and kissed his forehead softly.
Liam felt his cheeks warming up a little and he knew that he was blushing, but it wasn't because he was feeling shy or embarrassed, but because it always felt so amazing when Scott was being so affectionate towards him. He knew that no one else would be able to understand it, though. Even his parents, the people he cared about the most in the world, who had had the chance to witness first-handedly how awesome Scott was, seemed suspicious of their closeness.
He didn't fully understand it either, but from the very moment they'd met weeks ago during the lacrosse practice, he felt an instant connection to the older teen, as if they'd known each other for ages. He knew that from the outside it might look as if he had a crush on Scott, but he didn't. He didn't daydream about how Scott looked, didn't wonder how it would be to hold his hand or kiss him, or go on a date with him. He might be young but he wasn't stupid, he was able to tell the difference between being in love and loving someone. He also instinctively knew that Scott felt the same as he did, since all their hugs and touches felt so… warm, and safe. They also made him realize that the Alpha would never, ever intentionally hurt him, and that Liam could trust him with everything.
When Scott greeted his parents, Liam remained glued to his side, not caring if it seemed too childish, and when they all sat down on the sofa, he pressed himself flush against Scott's side.
"Liam, let him breathe," his stepdad rebuked him gently.
"It's fine, David, I've missed him too," as if to emphasize his point, Scott put his arm around Liam's shoulders.
"See, dad? Scott doesn't mind," he grinned triumphantly.
"I'm simply worried for you, son. Scott has his own life and plans that don't necessarily involve us, so if you get too attached and then you both go separate ways, you'll get hurt," David said, his brow furrowed.
Liam frowned. He hadn't considered that scenario before. Would Scott leave Beacon Hills? Would he? Sure, he had some plans for the future, like playing lacrosse professionally, but ever since he'd learned about the supernatural world, they seemed so… trivial. Still, he didn't want to dismiss them entirely, especially since he had four years of high school still ahead of him.
It must be different for Scott, though, since he was already finishing his sophomore year, and Liam wondered how it would feel to remain in Beacon Hills without the older teen being here with him.
"What are you going to do once you finish high school, do you plan to leave Beacon Hills and go to college?" he asked Scott curiously, trying not to show how much he wanted him to stay in the town for at least two years longer, even though it was an entirely selfish thought.
"Alright, I think this is the moment when I explain exactly how werewolf packs work. While we are extremely territorial, it mostly focuses on having the pack together in one place rather than being attached to a particular piece of land,” Scott explained. “This is a little bit different with my own pack, though, which is connected to a mythological tree called the Nemeton. And before you ask, Nemetons are places of power connecting the telluric current or ley lines, however you want to call them. There are seven Nemetons scattered across the world, and one of them is placed right here in Beacon Hills. That's why the town is called that, because it's a beacon for all supernatural creatures in North America.”
Liam listened attentively, totally enraptured. A magical tree, here in California? It was unbelievable, but then again, so was the werewolves's existence, and he'd already accepted that.
"The reason why I'm telling you all of this is so that you can understand that I'm never going to move out of Beacon Hills, ever," Scott added. "Sure, I could travel for a bit, but this is my home, and that won't ever change. But the question is: what are your plans? Do you already know what you want to do with your life?"
"Um, Mason and I have always wanted to play lacrosse professionally," he admitted.
"I thought as much. You'll need to consider the fact that you can't become a werewolf and still pursue a career in sports, though."
"What? Why?" he asked, shocked.
"I'd say for the sake of fairness, am I close to the mark?" his stepdad looked at Scott curiously.
Scott nodded. "It's one of two reasons. We are stronger and faster than humans, our senses and reflexes are unparalleled. Sure, we can make a conscious decision of not using them to our advantage while playing sports, but we can't fully suppress our natural, subconscious reactions. When the stakes are high, the instinct might be too strong to overcome."
"I guess that makes sense," Liam admitted reluctantly and asked Scott what was the other reason.
"The need for secrecy. It's one thing to play lacrosse in high school, but playing professionally, with the games being broadcasted country-wide by ESPN or CBS… Think about what would happen if you transformed while playing in the finals. The werewolf hunt that would follow is difficult to imagine, but even if you'd be the first victim, you certainly wouldn't be the last," Scott said grimly.
Liam gulped. This was serious, more than he'd initially imagined. He'd never have thought that being a werewolf and a sportsman were incompatible choices, but it was hard to counter all the arguments against mixing the two. He was slowly starting to understand that he'd be forced to choose between his career and the supernatural world, and it wasn't going to be an easy decision.
"You've thought about it a lot," David said as he looked at Scott thoughtfully. "I expected you to try to advertise becoming a werewolf so that Liam would agree to become one, but it sounds to me like you're doing the exact opposite. Why?"
The Alpha sighed. "Because it's only fair that Liam is fully aware what he would be getting into if he truly wants to get bitten. Being a part of the pack is one of the most wondrous things in the world, and physical changes like enhanced strength, speed and agility are not the most important part; the emotional closeness and support of the whole pack is. But there are downsides to being supernatural, too. There are people who hunt us, and while most of them only kill rogue, feral werewolves who are out of control, there are some hunters who would see our entire species eradicated. Getting the bite is a serious decision, and it can't be undone, so Liam would need to think very carefully if it's something he truly wants."
Liam wasn’t the least surprised when - after hearing about hunters - his stepdad immediately forbade him from ever becoming a werewolf. It still hurt, though, since he wanted to make that decision himself, instead of being told what to do. He wanted to believe that his dad was only saying this because he was worried for him… but still, not being trusted and having the decision being taken from him stung something awful.
***
The last few weeks were one of the most difficult Jenna had ever experienced in her life. It came very close to the time when she’d learned about her first husband’s car accident and later having to tell little Liam that his daddy won't be coming home. It hadn't been easy, since Liam had been four and a half back then, which meant that he was barely able to grasp the concept of irreversibility of death. Not to mention, she’d been terrified how she'd be able to work and provide for her son without Michael while at the same time not neglecting Liam’s other needs and spending enough time with him. But those first moments after realizing that her husband was truly gone… they'd been the worst.
It was David who had been an attending physician in the ER when Michael had been brought to the hospital in an ambulance, and it was him who had told her about his death. Even after all those years, she vividly remembered the way David had awkwardly tried to console her, and ended up holding her when she cried. Afterwards, he'd helped her with the funeral arrangements, and when she'd asked him why, he'd admitted that Michael had been the first person to die on his watch while he was operating, so he felt that it was his responsibility.
It was bittersweet that Michael's death was the reason that had brought them together, even though at first they'd started as tentative friends who only tried to console and help each other. After several months of helping her to take care of Liam, though, David had confessed that he loved them both, but that he wouldn't act on his feelings unless she returned them and that he would remain her friend if it would turn out that she couldn't reciprocate how he felt about her, after all.
It hadn't happened at once, but eventually she'd fallen in love with him too, when the pain of losing Michael no longer felt like a huge gaping wound in her heart. She was honestly glad that she had, though, since David was a good man, and the best stepdad for Liam that she could wish for. She hadn’t been aware how deeply her love went and how much he truly meant to her, though, until that awful day when they'd been assaulted and she'd come so close to losing him…
She still kept having nightmares about that day, how the blood from his punctured stomach stained his shirt and pooled underneath his body, and she was forced to watch her husband die while their attackers had their sick fun with her. In her dreams, there was no help coming, no one to come to the rescue, and she couldn't tell what was worst: the rape or the fact that it was the last thing David ever saw. Only when his eyes lost focus and his chest stilled, she would wake up with a gasp and tell herself that it was only a dream and that they were safe, that they were alright… But they wouldn't be if it wasn't for Scott.
Maybe that was the reason why she didn't mind that he was a werewolf. Honestly, she couldn't care less what he was, the only thing that mattered to her was that he truly loved Liam. What's more, it was the kind of parental love that gave without taking, a selfless care and protection without expecting anything in return; she was a mother, she could tell that much. How a sixteen year old would know how to be a father, she had no idea, but it was clear to her that Liam had three parents now instead of two.
Still, when Scott admitted that there were hunters out there who were after his kind, David immediately went into a protective mode and declared loudly that he wouldn't allow Liam to ever become a werewolf, period.
She glanced at the hurt and upset look on her son's face and she knew at once that she needed to intervene.
"Love, do you really think that by forbidding Liam to become a werewolf you'd keep him safe from harm?" she asked, causing him to look at her, surprised. It wasn't often that she'd disagree with him, but when she did, it was usually for an important reason… such as now.
"It'll keep him safe from those hunters, at least!" he said defensively.
"We've recently been attacked because I've married you," she reminded him, and when he flinched, she tried to soften the blow. "I love you and I wouldn't have it any other way. But remember, people are assaulted because of their nationality, race, sexuality, gender… You wouldn't ever tell our son that he can't be gay or transsexual because it's dangerous, right?"
"No, of course not, I'd always support his choices. But this is different-"
"It's really not," she interrupted him gently but sternly. "A species is just another label, and men like the ones that attacked us usually use them as a poor excuse for violence. So do we want to teach Liam to make his decision based on fear, or that he should always follow his heart?"
He stared at her, dumbfounded, and watched her for a long moment in silence.
"I married a very wise woman," he finally said, then showered her face with kisses, causing her to giggle like a teenage girl.
After a moment Liam cleared his throat. "Um, does it mean that if I wanted to become a werewolf, I could? I'm not saying that I will, because it's a lot to take in, but if I decided to, would you let me?" he asked tentatively.
"If you carefully consider all the pros and cons, all the dangers involved, and you still decide to go with it… Yes, your mom and I will always support you," David assured him, causing Liam to brighten immediately, and Jenna to exhale with relief.
Maybe David wasn't her first love, but that didn't matter, because he was truly the kind of a husband and man that she loved and was proud of… even if sometimes he needed a little nudge in the right direction.
Notes:
I always wondered who was Jenna's first husband and how did it happen that she married David, so... This is my version of those events. I hope that you liked it!
Chapter Text
Chris was pacing in his room, feeling too restless to sit or lie down. Calling it 'his room' was a bit of a stretch though, since he didn't feel any connection to it or to the house as a whole. After everything that had happened, it was hard for him to call it home, because in all honesty, it wasn't. Not to mention, living the hunter's life and constantly moving from town to town had made it exceptionally hard for him and Allison to have a home at all.
But it was all in the past now, wasn't it? He wasn't a werewolf hunter anymore, he was a part of the pack and for all intents and purposes, Beacon Hills was the last stop on his journey, the final destination. He could put down roots here, he mused wistfully, and give himself and Allison a home they so desperately needed.
But this was a decision they should make together, so - thinking that there was no time like the present - he went to her bedroom and knocked. After a moment he heard a quiet "come in", so he opened the door and peered in. He exhaled in relief when he saw that Allison and Isaac were sitting on the bed fully clothed, though both were blushing slightly.
"Yes, dad?" Allison looked at him expectantly.
He sat down on the bed too, wanting to be on the same level and not to force them to look up while they talked.
"I was thinking about our living arrangements, and I wondered... Would you mind if we sold this house and moved closer to the pack?"
Allison's eyes widened. "No, I mean, I wouldn't mind it at all! Were you thinking about a specific place...?"
Before he could reply, Isaac cleared his throat. "Um, I can go home if you want to discuss this, you know, just between the two of you."
Chris looked at the boy's suddenly stiff shoulders and wondered what was the reason for this. Did Isaac still feel like a stranger here, or that he wasn't welcome?
"Isaac, you're spending as many nights here as you do at home, so I think we should stop pretending that it's only temporary, alright?" he smiled at the boy and added: "Actually, I wanted to find a place for us all so that you could have your own bedroom there as well, not just a guest room."
"But, what if Allison and I break up? I mean, not that I plan to, it's actually the opposite," Isaac rushed to add, "but if it did happen, will you- Would I still-"
"You're always going to be welcome," Chris assured him. "Besides, I'm dating your mom, and we all belong to Scott's pack, so we're already a family. A weird one, but a family nevertheless."
He patted the boy on the back and was pleasantly surprised when Isaac moved closer to him, peering at him shyly through his long eyelashes, so he put an arm around the boy's shoulders and hugged him properly. It was a strange feeling, since he wasn't used to being so physical with people (Allison and Scott being notable exceptions), but it felt good to act as Isaac's parent or at least a father figure of sorts.
When Allison had been born and they'd learned that because of the complications during the labor Victoria wouldn't be able to have more kids, he hadn't thought even for a second that he'd rather have a son. His daughter was perfect in every way, he knew that from the very first time he'd held her tiny body bundled up in a plush baby blanket. But now, his relationship with Isaac was filling up a void in his life that he hadn't been aware existed, that of having a son to call his own, even if it was nothing official (yet, his mind added hopefully).
He looked up at Allison and saw a gentle smile on her face, which made the dimples in her cheeks stand out even more. He was relieved to see it, because the last thing he wanted was for her to feel left out, so he mouthed "come here" and soon she too was pressed to his side.
Hugging both kids close to him, he asked: "So, what would you two say about house-hunting?" - then chuckled when they both yelped in excitement.
***
Unbeknownst to Chris, Peter was pacing in his apartment too, though for a completely different reason. He knew that he had to talk to Malia and reveal that he was her biological father, but somehow the longer he delayed it, the tougher it got for him to actually speak up and start explaining.
"Alright, you wanted to talk with me, so out with it," Malia said, sitting astride a chair.
"Bossy," he commented under his breath.
"Not bossy, just bored. I've had enough of watching you pacing around the last few days, so whatever you have to say, just say it," she demanded, her whole body screaming impatience.
"As you wish," he exhaled slowly. He might as well do a nose-dive and be done with it, right? "Remember when I told you that we're family but not how close we're related?"
The girl nodded. "I thought that maybe you're my uncle, or an older cousin."
"Close, but not close enough. When you were an infant, you were adopted by the Tates, but you're not their biological daughter. You're mine."
She stared at him for a moment. "You're lying," she accused him, though her voice shook slightly.
"Am I? Your every feature is mine… all of it, except for the eyes. You inherited them from your mother."
Oh, Corinne. How could he have ever fallen for her? That woman was no good, he'd known that right from the start, but she was attractive, experienced and exceptionally talented in bed, and he'd been young, horny and had shitty priorities back then. Corinne couldn't hold a candle to Melissa, he knew that now, and the only good thing that had come out of that stupid, reckless fling was… Malia.
Who was now glaring at him, incensed.
"So you abandoned me after I was born and now you suddenly decided to… what exactly? Pretend that none of it ever happened?"
He sighed. This conversation was not going as he'd hoped, but exactly as he'd expected.
"I did not abandon you, I forgot about you," he clarified, picking up a chair and sitting astride it in a mirror position to Malia's. "Or more precisely, it was my sister who was an Alpha back then who took away my memories of you and put you up for adoption. I didn't know of your existence until recently, and as soon as I learned about it, I knew that I needed to get you back."
She shook her head, thankfully no longer furious, but still looking hurt, distrustful, and… disappointed. "Look, I'm grateful that you've found me in the woods and showed me how to control my transformations, I really am. But if you think that locking me in this place for days on end will make me forget my true dad, you're wrong."
"I planned for you to stay here at least until you stopped acting like an animal," he corrected her. "I wanted to prepare you for living among humans again."
"And you did, but I'm ready now. I want to see my dad again. You know, the man who raised me and was there for me when I was a kid?" she asked sarcastically, souding so like him it was unbelievable. "He's my true dad, and I want to go back to him."
Peter gritted his teeth. He'd hoped that rescuing Malia, spending time with her and teaching her how to be both a human and a werewolf, would be enough to make her want to stay with him, but apparently, it wasn't. Nothing was ever going to be enough, he had missed her entire childhood and she wouldn't ever let him forget that.
"If this is what you want, I'll take you there tomorrow," he finally said, no matter how much it pained him to do so.
She gaped at him, surprised. "Really? I thought…"
"What, that I'll refuse? That I'll lock you up and keep you here forever?" he scoffed. "Malia, you’re a werecoyote, and most of all, you are my daughter, even if you refuse to acknowledge it. I hate cages of all kinds, and if you're anything like me, you do too. So if you want to move out and go live with Henry, I'm not going to stand in your way."
"Why tomorrow and not now, then?" she asked suspiciously.
"Firstly, because we still need to come up with a believable cover story for your sudden reappearance. And secondly, because I'm selfish at heart and I want to spend one more evening in your company," he admitted.
When Scott had first told him that he had a daughter, he couldn't picture himself as a father. He'd been convinced that he wasn't a parent material and that he'd be awful at it. When they'd rescued Malia and she'd moved in with him, though, he'd quickly discovered that he actually enjoyed having her around, even if from time to time he had to remind her to get dressed before leaving her room or use cutlery when eating… And even that had a certain charm to it.
"So you're not angry that I don't want to stay with you?" she asked tentatively, so unlike her.
"Sad and disappointed, yes. Angry, never," he assured her.
How could he be angry at her for wanting to be reunited with the man she'd considered a father her entire life? Henry was the last link to her childhood that had been so abruptly taken from her, so it wasn't any wonder that she wanted it back. He couldn't in good conscience fault her for that, even if not so small part of him was greedy and wanted to keep her here, with him.
Malia's eyes flickered with a myriad of emotions before she abruptly stood up from the chair and transformed into her coyote form. Lately, it didn't happen often, only when she was afraid or distressed, but he was aware that they still needed to work on her control. However, now was not the time for that, his main priority at the moment was her emotional well-being.
She moved closer to him and gently pressed her snout against his hand. He petted her for a moment, making sure to scratch her behind the ears which he knew she enjoyed the most, before he murmured: "Let's move to the sofa, hm?"
It didn't take them much time to find a comfortable position, Peter sitting with his back against the backrest while Malia's coyote form lay sprawled on the sofa with her head resting on his lap. He buried his fingers in her fur, enjoying its softness and the way she purred contentedly while he petted her. He hoped that she would miss it as much as he would, and drop by sometimes, even if it was only once in a while, like during the full moons.
It would be enough, he tried to convince himself, because it had to be enough. If he didn’t want her to turn against him, he couldn’t hoard her any longer, he needed to let her go.
Chapter Text
Looking through Peter's car window, the closer they got to their destination, the more familiar their surroundings were to Malia. That lone hill, she remembered going there sledding with her dad each winter, and that old tree, she couldn't count how many times she had climbed up its trunk, much to her mom's chagrin. It had been obvious from the very beginning that it was her sister Kylie who'd been more girly out of the two of them, always playing with dolls and pretending to be a princess, while Malia was the typical tomboy, always running through the woods and scraping knees on every rough surface in her vicinity.
She still couldn't believe that the Tates weren't her biological family. Though more truthfully would be to say that deep inside she knew that it was the truth, but she didn't want it to be. Peter was an alright guy, she supposed, but a father? She didn't think of him that way. Sure, he was helpful and patient, more so than she would've expected from an Alpha werewolf, but he just wasn't her dad. She also wondered who her biological mother was and if she was still alive, but having one new parent to get used to was enough for her for the time being.
The most important thing at the moment was that she was going to see her dad again, and nothing else could have a higher priority than that. In her mind, she imagined that he would take one look at her and recognize her at once. She had changed a lot, true, but surely he would be able to sense that it was her, right? He was her dad, after all, no matter what Peter said, Henry was the only living person who truly loved and cared for her.
"We're almost there."
She almost jumped at the sound of Peter’s voice, pulling her from her thoughts. "I know, I remember this road, these woods," she admitted.
"If Henry or the police asks what happened to you, tell them-"
"That everything is hazy and I barely remember anything, I know, we've been through this," she rolled her eyes. Honestly, he could be such a worrywart sometimes.
"Just remember, no one can know about you being a werecoyote. It's important that you keep this a secret, alright?"
"But why? My dad would never reject me, I know it." Well, maybe she didn't know it, but had a strong feeling about it. After all, wasn't a parent's love supposed to be unconditional?
Apparently, Peter didn't share her optimism, as he gave her a half stern, half skeptical glance before he looked back on the road.
"Malia, I'm serious. The supernatural world relies on secrecy, so it's not only your life that is at stake here."
"Alright, alright, I'll keep my mouth shut," she agreed reluctantly.
"Good girl."
Hearing the praise, spoken with a small, barely-there smile, she couldn't help but feel strangely happy, which meant that she wanted Peter’s acceptance after all. Which was quite unexpected; it must be because of all those years spent alone in the woods, she thought to herself. Why else would she have gotten attached so easily, so fast?...
All too soon, they reached the Tates' house and she realized that their time together was quickly running out.
"Peter… Can I- Could we-" she stumbled over her words as they got out of the car. "I mean, would you mind if we kept in touch and spent full moons together?"
The coyote part of her was always relaxed in Peter's presence, and he always seemed to know how to calm her down, no matter how distressed or upset she was. Also, if she could live with her dad but still keep in touch with Peter, then that way no one needed to get hurt or rejected, right?
Hearing her tentative offer, he nodded. "Of course. Even if you won't accept me as your father, I'm still your Alpha, and you are a part of my pack. There's no way I'm going to let anyone cut me from your life completely."
She opened her mouth to thank him and let him know how much it meant to her, but in that moment the door to the house opened and she saw her dad standing on the doorstep, looking at them quizzically.
"Are you lost?" he asked gruffly.
Seeing him for the first time in years, it was… an incredible experience, even though he looked older than she remembered, and just as tired. She took a shaky breath, wanting with all her heart to simply run to him and bury herself in his embrace, when she realized with an unpleasant shock that he was holding a stretcher with an animal pelt on it.
She blanched, pointing at the fur with a shaking hand. "Is that…?"
"Oh, that? We have a serious coyote problem in the area, I'm simply trying to decimate their population before they attack anyone."
"Excuse me, but aren't coyotes usually trying to avoid human settlements?" Peter raised his eyebrow.
"Are you some crazy animal rights activists trying to tell me that coyotes are harmless? If that's so, then get out of my property," Henry demanded angrily.
She looked him in the eyes which were gleaming with pain but also obsessive hunger for revenge, and she knew that while he would be ecstatic to know that she had survived the car crash, she wouldn't be able to disclose her werecoyote nature to him. And more than that, if he ever learned that she was responsible for her mom's and Kylie's deaths… He would never forgive her, it was crystal clear to her now.
"We're not activists, we came here to-" Peter started explaining, but she interrupted him.
"I think we should go, Peter. Let's go back to your apartment, please," her voice quivered, but she didn't care, all she wanted at that moment was to get as far away from this place as possible.
It had been her home, once, but it wasn't any longer, and her dad had changed too, and not for the better. She understood it, he had lost his loved ones in a tragic accident, made even worse by coyotes scavenging on their bodies (or so he thought), so she couldn't fault him for that. But while he'd been an important part of her childhood, he wouldn't ever accept the animal side of her, and if she didn't want to hide her true self and lie to him, she had to let him go.
***
For a while, Peter drove in silence, and she was glad for it since she wasn't ready to speak either.
"I'm sorry," he finally said.
"Don't lie, I can sense your emotions. You're ecstatic that I’ve changed my mind," she wanted to be bitter about it, but she was too emotionally drained to muster even the tiniest bit of anger.
"I wanted you to stay with me from the very start, so of course I'm happy about that. But not about the way it happened. Malia, I've never wanted you to get hurt or feel like you didn't have any other place to go to," he stressed.
She blinked rapidly, trying to fight back tears, but a couple still rolled down her cheeks. Seeing that, Peter pulled over and turned off the engine, then looked at her uncertainly, as if he wasn't sure if he should comfort her or just let her be. In all honesty, she didn't know what she wanted from him either.
Feeling claustrophobic in the small space, she unbuckled the seat belt and got out of the car. For a moment she just stood on the side of the road, shaking, her breathing too quick and too shallow, but not knowing how to stop, when Peter joined her and pulled her into a hug.
"It's going to be alright," he murmured, then calmly instructed her to breathe in and out, again and again, until her racing heart slowed down.
"I'm sorry for being such a mess," she finally mumbled into his chest.
"You have nothing to be sorry for."
She took a step back and snorted, though it came out rather pathetically, since her nose was clogged after crying. "Here's where you're wrong, I have a long list of things to apologize for, and on top of it is mauling my mom and sister, even if they weren't my biological family."
Peter looked at her carefully, as if wanting to gauge her reaction, then said: "We've both done things we wish we hadn't. I've had my share of wrongdoings too… including being responsible for my niece's death."
For a moment she stopped thinking about how miserable she was and realized that Peter too had been hiding a lingering pain underneath his self-confident facade.
"What happened?"
When he ran his fingers through his hair, his hand shook, and it was the first time he'd ever shown weakness in her presence. "It's not an easy tale, and it doesn’t end well. Do you really want to hear it?"
"And my own tale is what, all sunshine and roses?" She asked sarcastically. "I can handle the truth, however difficult it is. If it's about your family, it means that it's about my family too."
Not to mention, she could use a distraction from her own pain, but she didn't mention that out loud. She had an inkling that Peter was aware of that, though.
***
When Malia said that his family was her family too, it was the first time she openly acknowledged that they were related, and his eyes widened for a split second. Maybe, just maybe, they could make this work, he thought to himself. But first, he needed to come clean about all the things he'd done.
So he told her everything, starting from the conflict between werewolves and hunters, especially the Argent family, which culminated in the Hale house fire and deaths of most of his relatives. He told her how he'd spent six year in agony, trying to heal the burns so severe they would've killed a normal human, and how he'd turned into a power-hungry maniac who'd killed his own niece just to take the Alpha spark from her.
Seeing the apprehension in Malia's eyes, he rushed to explain: "Don't worry, I'm not the same person I was back then, even if it was mere months ago."
"Then what changed you?"
"Scott did," he admitted softly, looking at his palms which he had once attempted to strangle Scott with. "He showed me what it means to be an Alpha and a leader. I know that I'm still far from perfect, but I can now admit to all the mistakes I've made and learn from them, rather than allow them to bring me down. This is what I want for you too."
She was silent for a long moment, and he started to fear that he had scared her off, and that she wouldn't want to stay with him after learning about everything that he'd done.
"We're awfully alike, aren't we?" she asked finally.
"We are, scarily so," he admitted. "And I'm not only speaking about being responsible for our families' deaths. Your bluntness, sarcasm, the courage to speak your mind… They're all my traits. I've never had any doubts that you're my daughter, Malia."
"Why do you think I've accepted the fact that you're my biological father so quickly? I've felt it too, the likeness, the connection. But it only means that we're related, not that we're a true family," she said brusquely, though he could sense the underlying hesitance, and even deeper - her yearning.
It seemed that she wanted a family as much as he did, and it made him hopeful.
"Maybe we're not, but we could be, if you want to," he offered. "I can't promise you that we won't argue, because considering our personalities, we probably will, a lot. But what I can promise you is that I'll be there for you, always, whenever you need me."
He looked at Malia expectantly, hoping that it would be enough, and exhaled in relief when - after a couple of long, nerve-wracking minutes - she finally smiled at him.
"Alright. Though fair warning, I still expect to be bribed with ice cream. With chocolate syrup and whipped cream, otherwise the deal is off," she added, her eyes gleaming mischievously.
"Sounds fair," he said with a chuckle, then went back to the car, already wondering which ice parlor to take her to. After everything that had happended today, he wouldn’t say no to a sweet treat either.
Also, speaking of all the similarities between them… Sweet tooth, check.
Chapter Text
Later, after Malia had eaten the biggest bowl of ice cream available and they had gone back to the apartment, Peter let her go to her room to rest while he stayed in the living room and allowed his thoughts to wander.
He was finally starting to bring his family and pack together, and it gave him a sense of pride very few things did nowadays. He couldn't help but shudder when he recalled how much of a bastard he'd been in Scott's first life, how treacherous the other Peter's actions had been. And to think he'd been this close to tread that path again and make the same mistakes… It was a bittersweet realization that if it wasn't for Scott and Derek, he would've gone down the same road.
Never again, he swore to himself. This time his family was his priority above all else, and he would do everything to keep them safe. He was acutely aware that they were still vulnerable, though, Malia especially. Now that she'd chosen to live with him, she was in more danger than before, since if her mother ever caught a whiff of a teenage girl claiming the Hale name, she would connect the dots in no time and be out for blood. And since Malia had no training nor fighting skills besides animal instincts and raw strength, until that was remedied, it was his job as a father to protect her.
Which reminded him that Corinne needed to be taken off the picture as soon as possible. He also wondered what Scott's plan for her was; knowing him, it would be something honorable like simply warning Corinne off, but it just wouldn't do. The Desert Wolf hadn't earned her fame (or rather infamy) for playing nice and fair, so if they approached her with a warning it would paint huge target marks on their backs rather than help any. They needed to eliminate the threat she posed, because where his daughter's safety was concerned, half measures simply weren't enough.
He texted Scott that they needed to talk about Corinne, then swirled wine in his glass while waiting for the Alpha's reply, a plan slowly forming in his head.
***
When Scott heard that Malia was staying with Peter permanently, he was overjoyed. Not to mention, it seemed that her decision had breathed life into Peter and gave him a sense of purpose; the man was almost vibrating with a newfound energy.
On the downside, Peter was also adamant that they should remove Corinne from the picture by any means necessary, something that Scott simply couldn't allow. Not that there was any love lost between him and the Desert Wolf, or that he had any qualms about killing her if needed. But in this timeline she hadn't done anything to justify murder… yet.
"Think about it like a preemptive strike," Peter suggested, his tone coaxing, almost cajoling. "You know that she will try to kill Malia, so we need to prevent it at all costs. Considering your knowledge of the previous timeline, this is a completely reasonable and justified course of action."
"I can't just order her death, first we need to have a solid proof that this time she would act the same way," he protested.
"You would endanger my daughter because of… what? Scruples? Your conscience?" Peter asked, hurt, so Scott put hands on his shoulders and looked deep into his eyes.
"Listen, I know that you're worried for Malia, but between us and Braeden we should be able to prevent Corinne from doing any damage while we question her. And I promise you, if she makes even one wrong move, we'll take her down at once. Alright?"
He hoped that Peter would see that they couldn't deal with the Desert Wolf by resorting to cold-blooded murder, or else they would become just like her. Not to mention, Malia had just recently learned that she had been adopted, and he didn't want to jeopardize their relationship with her by killing off her biological mother without any tangible proof that the woman truly deserved it. Besides, Malia's decision to stay with Peter was based on the fact that Henry didn't see anything wrong in killing off coyotes, so if she learned that they planned to murder Corinne not for any valid reason, but as a method of prevention, they would lose her trust for sure.
"For the record, I don't like it, but fine, let's do it your way," Peter acquiesced.
Scott was pleasantly surprised, since he'd expected more resistance from him, but he was glad that he was able to change Peter's mind about their plan and that the man was willing to go along with it, albeit reluctantly. But it only proved how much Peter had changed during the last few months, and showed his growth as a person.
Feeling satisfied with the outcome of their talk, he texted Braeden, suggesting that they meet at Derek's place again, since she was already familiar with the place. This time though, he didn't intend to organize a full pack meeting, since it was mostly a Hale family matter, so he just needed to have Peter and Derek there.
***
While on the outside he was perfectly calm, deep inside Peter was in a turmoil. He had tried to convince Scott to see his point of view, to make him see that by trying to do the noble thing he was putting Malia in danger, but that hadn't worked, just like he'd suspected it wouldn't.
Scott was just too… honorable and righteous, and while most people would say these were good traits to have, Peter knew better. A leader should be able make tough decisions, no matter how unpopular or controversial they might be. But he was an Alpha too, and if Scott didn't have the guts to do what was necessary, he fully intended to step up and dirty his hands if he had to.
Who knows, Scott might even thank him later for doing what he - being the True Alpha - simply couldn't do...
"I know that look, you're planning something," Derek said with a frown when Scott went to open the door and let the mercenary in.
"Dear nephew, scheming is my natural state of being, so of course I'm planning something. But it's nothing malicious, so you may drop that frown or you'll get wrinkles," he said with an easy smile.
And he wasn't even lying, he was only going to assure that his daughter and the entire pack was protected from the threat that Corinne posed, so it wasn't malicious, it was simply… an act of defense. Not to mention, he was going to get rid of an assassin who had killed gods know how many people before, so he really should be thanked for serving that bitch the justice she was due.
Derek looked only half-convinced but didn't press the issue as in that moment Scott led Braeden to the room.
Showtime, Peter thought to himself.
***
Waiting for McCall to make up his mind and contact her again had given Braeden a perfect opportunity to snoop around and gather more information about the young Alpha. Thankfully, her old U.S. Marshal's badge still had the power to open a lot of doors and loosen some tongues, so she had the chance to question a couple of teachers at his school.
It appeared that Scott McCall had undergone a drastic change which could only be described as a complete metamorphosis, from an asthmatic, unpopular, totally forgettable boy who up until recently had basically been a nobody, to one of the most popular boys in the school and a co-captain of the lacrosse team. What was even more surprising, that popularity hadn't diminished even after his bold coming out and acting as a spokesperson for the school's homosexual community.
And while the sudden success in sports could be easily attributed to the fact that as a werewolf he was at an advantage compared to the other kids in the lacrosse team, the personality change was much harder to explain. It seemed that along with the enhanced strength he had also gained a confidence boost, but instead of becoming arrogant or cocky as most teenagers would, he had actually started to draw people in and befriend them, a mark of a natural leader if she'd seen any.
Before coming to Beacon Hills she had heard some rumors of a True Alpha appearing there seemingly out of nowhere, but she had chalked it up to people exaggerating facts. But seeing first-handedly the group of friends and allies the McCall boy had gathered around him in such a short period of time added a lot of credibility to those rumors. Not to mention, he had gained the Calaveras' approval, which was a feat in itself, and surely Araya wouldn't trust him if he'd gained his Alpha powers through murder.
So, while him being the True Alpha seemed much more probable now than she'd thought prior to meeting him, it still didn't explain how or why he would know anything about the Desert Wolf. Being such a young werewolf, Alpha or not, he shouldn't possess knowledge a majority of the supernatural world wasn't privy to... herself included.
"Let me get this straight, you'll tell me the Desert Wolf's identity if I agree to track and bring him to you?" she asked suspiciously once the boy invited her again and explained what would be her task.
"In essence, yes."
"I still expect to be paid for this, I won't be tracking one the most wanted assassins for free," she demanded. While information was a valuable currency in her line of work, for such a demanding task she expected to be paid extra.
It was one of the two other werewolves present who replied: "I assure you that you'll be suitably rewarded for your efforts." He gave her a smile that was probably supposed to be endearing, but it seemed a little bit too shark-like for comfort… She knew a predator when she saw one.
"And you are?" she asked, unimpressed.
"Peter Hale. I assume you've heard of me?" He flashed his Alpha red eyes at her.
Oh yes, the younger brother of the late Talia Hale. Back in the days he was rumored to be quite clever, though with a manipulative streak a mile long. But wasn't he supposed to be horribly scarred and in a coma after the Hale House fire?
When she asked him this, he winked at her. "I assure you, the reports of my indisposition were greatly exaggerated. I'm fully in possession of my wits and my family's wealth as well, so you don't need to worry about getting paid."
So, he was not only manipulative, but also a charmer, that was good to know. The more information she gathered about all of them, the better for her.
"Just to be on the same page, you don't want me to kill the Desert Wolf for you?" she asked the McCall boy.
"That's correct, only track and capture, we'll handle the rest," he confirmed.
"Taking him alive isn't going to be easy," she frowned. "What if we end up fighting and I kill him?"
"If it's in self-defense, that's fine, I don't want you to take any undue risk."
Wait, was the young Alpha concerned on her behalf? That would be a first, since all her previous employers hadn't seemed to care what happened to her as long as she managed to complete her mission. And even if it was only talk, his way to sweeten the deal… Well, she had to admit that it worked.
"Alright, I agree. Now tell me everything that you know about the Desert Wolf. I've researched all werewolf packs in the area but I didn't manage to find any fit."
He gave her a crooked smile. "Well, that's because the codename 'the Desert Wolf' is a smokescreen, a decoy. The person you were looking for is neither a man nor a werewolf. It's a female werecoyote named Corinne."
She almost facepalmed herself right here and there. A woman, and a werecoyote at that! Never would she have guessed it, she'd been so fixated on the 'wolf' part. If it was true, then it was the first true lead she'd had in years.
They talked some more about the details of their deal, and how they would communicate with each other, but to be honest she could barely sit still, she was so excited to start the search for the Desert Wolf once more.
Afterwards, she shook hands with Scott as a sign of accepting the deal, and was surprised when Peter gave her a handshake too, using the gesture to press a piece of paper into the palm of her hand. Judging by the secretiveness of his actions she guessed that he didn't want his companions to know about this, so she didn't give any outward sign that anything out of the ordinary had just happened. She simply put her hands in her pockets afterwards, hiding the piece of paper and deciding to read it only once she was out of the building.
The message turned out to be a counteroffer: I'll pay double if the Desert Wolf gets killed, I don't care how, as long as she ends up dead. Also, this must remain a secret, no one else can know about it or else the deal is off.
Braeden frowned after reading it, she would hate to be caught in power plays between the Alphas, so the question was: whose orders carried more weight?
If being a U.S. Marshal and later a gun for hire had taught her anything, it was to always consider who was the person of power in any given situation. It wasn't often obvious, and sometimes appearances could be deceiving. So now she had to consider who of the two Alphas was more influential: Scott McCall, a rumored True Alpha and a rising star of the supernatural community, or Peter Hale, who came from an old and wealthy werewolf family, and who would actually be paying her for completing the mission?...
Chapter Text
When Braeden had asked to meet him, Scott was slightly surprised, but when she showed him the note, it took almost all of his self-control not to lose his composure, since he recognized the slightly slanted handwriting at once.
He should have known that Peter had agreed too quickly, too easily to his plan, but he'd really believed that the man had changed and that all the scheming and treacherous behavior was a thing of the past… Though apparently, it had all been a ruse designed to fool him and blind him to the fact that Peter was, and will always be, a master manipulator.
He clenched his hands into fists, then unclenched them. Not wanting to tip Peter off, he dulled their link a little so that the man wouldn't be able to sense his feelings that easily. It wasn't anger as much as it was pain and disappointment, though. Why Peter hadn't come to him if he still had doubts about their plan? Why would he rather make such an underhanded move, rather than simply talk to him?...
He shook himself, he wouldn't get any answers until he had the chance to talk to Peter.
"Thank you for showing me this. Let's stick to the initial plan, and if it's a success I'll make sure that Peter pays you double then," he promised Braeden.
She raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you sure that he'll listen to you? You two seem to have a major difference in opinion on how the Desert Wolf should be handled."
"I'm sure. Peter could scheme all he wants, but in the end I am his Alpha."
Braeden looked at him dubiously, but nodded with acceptance.
"Why did you show me the note? You could have killed the Desert Wolf, then claim that it was self-defense, and no one would be the wiser," he asked, intrigued. Braeden didn't owe him anything, and he hadn't done anything yet to win her loyalty. So why had she come to him and revealed Peter's plan?
She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "If that Hale guy was the one making the decisions, he wouldn't have insisted on the secrecy that much. Also, if he doesn’t have the guts to argue his case openly, then he's not the one I should be listening to."
"He's not," he said honestly. "He might be, at some point in the future, but he's not there yet."
A curious glint flashed in her dark brown eyes. "And doesn't it bother you, that one day he might want to be the leader?"
"I hope that he will," he said honestly, remembering that he was living on borrowed time already. When that time runs out, he will need Peter to lead and take care of the pack, but not like this, not by cheating and scheming. It was obvious to him now that Peter still had a long road before him, and he could only hope that by the time he's forced to pay for his time travel, the man would be ready to take his place with everything that entailed.
Braeden stared at him.
"You're the most unusual Alpha I've ever met," she finally said, and he couldn't help a crooked grin.
"You don't know even half of it."
***
Peter was in Melissa's kitchen finishing preparing chili con carne with both his lovers when he heard the front door being opened and then closed. He stirred the meal one last time and turned off the fire, then looked up just in time to see Scott entering the room with a serious expression on his face.
"Perfect, you’re just in time for dinner." Melissa apparently didn't sense the sober mood.
"Sorry mom, I need to talk with Peter first."
"What about?" He asked with an easy smile, though his stomach felt as if he'd just swallowed a stone. Had the mercenary spilled the beans? But he'd specifically instructed her to keep it a secret or else the deal would be off, so if she truly valued money as much as she claimed, she wouldn't risk losing the double bounty. Or would she?
"You tell me, Peter. Is there anything I should know?"
He hesitated. Should he confess and risk that it wasn't what Scott had in mind? Or should he pretend to be clueless and not know what this was about? Damn it, neither scenario seemed like a particularly good idea at the moment...
"Scott, what's happening?" Chris looked between the two of them with confusion.
"Go on, Peter, tell them. Or do you want me to do it?" Scott folded his arms challengingly.
Too bad for him, because Peter wasn't someone to back down from a challenge.
"I only did what you should have done in the first place: ensured that my family would be safe from the Desert Wolf," he raised his chin and met Scott's eyes boldly.
"By going behind my back and undermining my authority? Short of killing Corinne yourself, you chose the worst way possible."
He gritted his teeth, he hated to see the hurt and disappointment in Scott's eyes, but what he despised even more was how the young Alpha still didn't see anything wrong with leaving the Desert Wolf alive, despite knowing that if given the chance, she would kill Malia without so much as a blink.
"Are you truly so foolishly incorruptible that you wouldn't kill your enemies even when justified?" he taunted. "Maybe you don't deserve your power, after all."
In hindsight, maybe he shouldn't have tried to rile Scott up, though, as next thing he knew he was grabbed and slammed into the wall with so much force that the wooden frame broke into splinters which dug into his back painfully.
"Scott!" Melissa shouted, sounding both terrified and outraged at the same time, but the teen ignored her as he pinned Peter's hands to the wall so that he couldn't struggle.
"Don't you dare say that to me again, ever, understood?"
Seeing Scott's blazing eyes and sensing the fury pulsing through their bond made him go weak in the knees, and his heartbeat immediately quickened in distress. The young Alpha's anger felt like hot flames licking at his insides and he could only nod weakly, hoping that it would be enough to appease Scott. He breathed in relief when he was released from the painful grip which, had he been human, would have surely broken his bones like a twig, but even with his Alpha healing abilities he could already sense the bruising forming on his wrists and forearms.
He looked up with hesitation when the link between him and his Alpha snapped shut so tightly that he couldn't even sense Scott's presence any longer, much less his emotions. That complete, utter blankness was even more terrifying than the earlier fury, but before he could react, Scott turned around and left the kitchen and then the house, slamming the door so hard that the whole building shook for a moment, dishes clanking loudly in the cupboards.
Peter briefly considered going after him, but as he straightened, he felt all the splinters from the wooden wall digging deeper into his body, and he groaned quietly.
"Easy, let me help you," Chris was at his side at once, his warm eyes and tender hands somehow soothing the pain.
"Move him to the living room and help him lie down on the sofa while I get my first aid kit," Melissa instructed.
Once he was lying face down and Chris cut the shirt on his back so that they could remove it without aggravating his injuries, Peter felt his heartbeat slowing down to a normal speed, and he finally allowed himself to breathe. Melissa appeared then with medical gloves on her hands and started to examine his back, methodically removing the splinters and cleaning the wounds.
He made a face at the burn caused by the disinfectant. "You don't have to do that, my body will heal soon."
"That's what Deucalion thought too, and he almost lost his limbs as a result. You forget that it's Scott we're talking about," she reminded him and he had to admit that she had a point.
"What exactly did you do to rile Scott up so much, anyway?" Chris asked. "I've never seen him so angry before."
"I offered the mercenary to pay double if she killed Corinne," he admitted. "And I still stand by that. If there's even a miniscule chance that she's after Malia, then I'm not going to take chances and wait until she has an opportunity to act on her plans."
He didn't see it since he was lying face down, but he could sense Melissa and Chris exchanging looks, and he scoffed.
"Please tell me that you don't agree with Scott's approach that we should question her first! How's what I've done any different from you killing your father, Chris? It's the same, a preemptive strike to protect our families, you of all people should agree with me on that."
Chris' thumb, which had been making small, soothing circles on his hand the last few moments, suddenly stopped. "Of course it's different, Gerard had already shown his true colors when he'd threatened Isaac and coerced Scott into giving him the bite. If you can’t see that, then I don't know how else to explain the difference to you. Now, I'm going to find Scott and see how he's doing."
Before Peter could react, Chris stood up abruptly and left the house too, which made him realize that in the span of barely a few minutes he had managed to alienate two of the most important people in his life.
He propped himself up on his forearms so that he could turn and look at Melissa. "Are you going to write me off and leave, too?" he asked bitterly.
She raised an eyebrow at him. "Seeing as this is my house, I'm not going anywhere, though I might ask you later to repair that wall. But no, I'm not going to write you off, and neither is Scott, or Chris for that matter."
"How can you be so sure?" he hated how vulnerable, how needy he sounded. "Scott has closed our link shut so completely I can't sense anything from him."
She sighed. "Look, I'm not an expert on werewolf bonds, but I do know my son. He had forgiven his father for abandoning us, and Deucalion for abducting the kids and blinding him. Do you really think that he won't forgive you if you say that you're sorry?"
He frowned. "That's the thing, I'm not sorry for doing what I think is right, and lying to him is only going to make things worse."
"Even if you're not sorry for disagreeing with him, what about the way you handled that and how you acted afterwards once the truth got revealed?"
He groaned out loud, finally realizing how disrespectful he had acted towards his own Alpha while trying to argue his point. It made him wonder if trying to protect Malia was his only motivation in asking Braeden to kill Corinne, after all... Ever since he'd decided to go against Scott in this regard, he felt strangely satisfied with himself, as if he'd finally taken the reins and started acting as an Alpha should. It also made him realize that he immensely enjoyed manipulating the events behind the scenes, even though in the end they had backfired at him.
Apparently, his hunger for power wasn't as dead as he'd thought it was. After all the times he had shown his submission, when it was time to prove that he would follow Scott no matter what, he'd gone behind his back and disobeyed his wishes. What's even worse, when he'd had the chance to explain himself, he'd chosen to act defiant and challenge Scott's position as a leader... No wonder Scott was so furious with him, he would be too if their positions were reversed.
"You're right, I can, and will, apologize for that," he said quietly and Melissa gave him a small smile and a quick peck in the lips.
He hoped that his relationship with Scott wasn’t damaged beyond repair and that he could still salvage it, somehow. He didn’t know what he would do if he failed.
Chapter Text
Once he left Melissa's house, Chris realized that he had no idea where Scott might have gone and where to look for him. If Scott had run away because he was sad or upset, Chris' guess would be that he had gone to see Derek, or maybe Deucalion, considering that they were in a relationship now… which, in all honesty, he still couldn't wrap his head around.
However, since Scott had left the house bursting with anger, where would he go to vent his emotions? Somewhere where he could be alone and undisturbed, probably, but that didn't help Chris much, and he didn't have werewolf's augmented senses to be able track the teen's scent in the air. Which left him one option, really: hope that Scott had his phone with him and that he would actually answer.
Mentally crossing his fingers, he called him. He waited six rings, his hope waning with each second, and was about to disconnect when Scott picked up with a curt but otherwise friendly "Hello".
"Thank you for picking up, I was afraid that you wouldn't answer," he admitted.
"That was my first reaction, but then I realized that it would be immature, not to mention reckless, since you might have an important reason to call, well besides telling me off."
"Tell you off? What for?" He couldn't imagine scolding Scott, for anything. It wasn't his place, not to mention he wouldn't feel comfortable doing so.
"For losing my cool and attacking Peter, for starters?"
"Wait, did you really think that I would judge you for that, after all the times when I told you that penting up your emotions isn't healthy?" he asked, exasperated. "You might be an Alpha werewolf, but underneath you're still human, shocking as that may be."
The teen laughed weakly, but didn't say anything.
"Can you tell me where are you? I'd rather you weren't alone, unless this is what you need at the moment," he added, hoping that Scott would open up to him.
"Actually, talking with you seems better than just sitting here on my own, so... I'm on a bench in Eastvale Park, if you want to join me. A fair warning, I'm a bit of a mess right now."
"Give me five minutes and I'll be there," he promised, starting to get worried.
When he found him, the sight of the normally strong, confident Alpha hunched over and hiding his face in his hands made his heart clench. Was it Peter's underhanded actions that had caused this, or Scott's guilt over losing his composure, or maybe both? Knowing that the werewolf could sense it was him even without looking up at him, he didn't hesitate in drawing him into his arms, as if that way he could somehow shield from whatever was eating Scott up from the inside.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked after a long moment of simply running his hands up and down the teen's back.
Scott straightened and took a couple of deep breaths before he answered. "It's fine, I just needed a moment to clear my head and stop mixing my past with the present." Seeing Chris' confused expression, he explained: "Peter's words… Let's just say that he unknowingly pushed some of my buttons and triggered quite unpleasant memories."
"He has a knack for that, doesn't he?" Chris asked ruefully. "Hitting people’s sensitive spots, I mean."
"Wait, did he say something to you too?"
"He implied that what he did isn't all that different from me killing my father, and that I should be taking his side in this." He grimaced, as the suggestion still left him reeling. "I mean, why would he say something like that? I know that there are some similarities to both cases, but…"
"But you killed Gerard after he'd proven himself to be a danger to the pack, not before. Listen, Peter's moral compass is quite skewed, and he doesn’t understand morality the same way as we do. He probably neatly rationalized in his mind that what he was doing was right."
He barked a short, bitter laugh. "You make it sound like he was some kind of a sociopath."
Scott nodded, his face completely serious. "He does display at least some sociopath behaviours and tendencies, wouldn't you say? Manipulation, deceit... But Chris, it doesn’t mean that he's evil, or that he doesn’t care about others, because it's clear that his pack and family means the world to him. It's just that he might need some guidance and... careful handling, let's say."
For a long moment, he mulled over Scott's words. It was difficult for him to reconcile the kind and loving man he knew Peter to be with the picture Scott had painted, but it would explain some of Peter’s actions from both timelines.
"Maybe you're right. No, scratch that, I know that you're right, I just didn't want to see it before."
Scott smiled at him and patted him on the shoulder. "If it's any consolation, I don't think that he's a lost cause, it's just going to be two steps forward, one step back with him. But believe me, Peter's worth the struggle."
He exhaled slowly. "I know he is."
And even if some of the pain at Peter's words and actions still lingered, Chris wouldn't give up on him, not now, not ever. And looking at Scott's sad but determined expression, he knew that he was thinking exactly the same thing.
"Let's go back, Peter and I need to have a talk."
"Just please don't throw him against the wall, alright?" Chris asked as they both stood up. "I think that once was enough and he got the message."
Not to mention, Melissa would have kittens if her house took any more damage, but he didn't say it out loud.
***
When Scott and Chris got back, Peter's head snapped up as he tried to gauge his Alpha's mood based on his face expression, since their bond was still closed off completely. He didn't look furious, thankfully, but judging by his tightly set jaw Peter wasn't off the hook yet either.
He saw Chris steering Melissa away, leaving him alone with Scott, and he couldn't help but shrink a little, feeling utterly exposed under the Alpha's solemn but piercing gaze.
"Show me your back," Scott instructed as he sat beside him on the sofa, and Peter obligingly turned around, feeling too apprehensive to speak.
It turned out that he didn't have a reason to be nervous, though, since Scott's touch was infinitely gentle as he traced Peter's battered back with his fingertips. With each touch, the puncture wounds patched themselves with a burst of sudden heat, but what was even more important, so did their pack bond, and Peter breathed out in relief when he felt its familiar caress in his mind, glad that it wasn't broken beyond repair.
He let himself immerse in the warmth of it all: the healing touch, the reopening of their bond, to the point that he stopped being aware of everything else, his whole world consisted of himself and his Alpha, and nothing else mattered in that moment.
When Scott healed all the wounds, he put his arms around Peter's waist and pulled their bodies closer, spooning him from behind. It felt as if he was in a protective bubble where nothing could harm him, and he wondered how could he have ever jeopardized it by his stupid ambition and unnecessary power plays.
"I'm sorry," Scott murmured, putting his chin on Peter's shoulder. "I didn't mean to hurt you."
"You're sorry?" He asked incredulously. "Scott, if anyone should be asking for forgiveness, it is me. While I'm not sorry for trying to keep Malia safe, everything else, the way I went behind your back, and the things I've said to you… I would take them all back, if I could. You're the best Alpha I could wish for and if anyone deserves that title, it's you."
"I was hurt by all that, true, but mainly because me being your Alpha was what you chose. You could've cut all the strings once you’ve become an Alpha yourself, and you still can. I don't want you to feel trapped or forced into something you don't want. So you need to make a decision if you want me to be your leader or not, Peter, because I really need to know where I stand with you."
Suddenly felt as if he had a lump in his throat and he tried to swallow. Somehow along the way he'd lost his balance, he realized. Deep inside, he had two contradicting desires: to lead and to follow, and even though recently he might have been confused by what he wanted more, the one thing that he was sure of was that he didn't want to lose Scott.
"I want this, I swear, I want you to be my Alpha. Feeling your anger through our link... It made me realize that I don't want to be the cause of it ever again."
In response, Scott hugged him even tighter. "I wasn't angry with you, not truly. I was angry at the memory of you from my first life. You see, when you accused me that I wouldn't kill my enemies even when justified, it reminded me of almost the same words that the other Peter once said to me after he'd turned me into a Berserker and almost caused me to kill Liam. It made me feel… furious, and upset, because I don't want you to go down the same path and force us to be on opposite sides again."
He closed his eyes for a moment and clutched desperately at Scott's arms hugging his waist. "It won't happen, ever, I promise," he said fervently.
"Even if you disagree with how I handle things?"
"Even then. But please, promise that you'll do everything to keep my daughter safe. If Corinne tries anything-"
"She'll be dead before she has the chance to harm Malia, I swear," Scott assured him. "Believe me, I don't have any qualms about killing the ones who want to hurt my pack, family or friends. I only want to get the proof that Corinne is up to no good, because I don't want Malia to hate us for killing her biological mother for no reason. That's why when I go question Corinne, I'm going to have that discussion recorded."
Hearing the rationale behind Scott's plan made him realize that he hadn't even considered what Malia would think about it all. He had been so focused on how to keep her safe that he hadn't even stopped to think about her feelings on the matter. And Scott was right, she would despise him for what he had tried to do, just as she hated the fact that Henry was killing off coyotes in the area.
"Thank you," he choked out.
He wanted to say: thank you for thinking about everything I hadn't even stopped to consider. Thank you for stopping me from doing something stupid that might have caused me to lose my daughter's trust. Thank you for being wiser than I'll ever be. But even though he didn't say any of this, he had the feeling that Scott understood.
Later, when he stood up to go and see what Melissa and Chris were doing, Scott caught his arm and stopped him for a moment.
"One more thing… Peter, you don't have to be jealous of my power or my position, because you're my right hand, and for all intents and purposes, also my successor. If something happens to me, the pack is going to need you to step up and take charge."
Peter puffed up with pride at being recognized, but then did a double take, because something in Scott's words seemed off…
"Wait, you don't sound like it's some distant future you're considering, you sound so… sure, and resigned about it. What is it that you're not telling me?" he asked suspiciously, and seeing the guilt on Scott's face only strengthened his conviction that he was hiding something.
The teen groaned and rubbed his face. "I shouldn't have said that…"
"If I'm truly your right hand, don't I deserve to know?" he pressed, for once glad that even though Scott might be good at keeping secrets, he was a terrible liar and was awful at pretending when asked about something directly.
"You do, of course you do. But damn, it's going to be a difficult conversation, one I'm not sure I can handle right now, on top of everything that has already happened today."
Seeing the exhaustion on Scott's face instantly made him feel guilty for pressing the matter.
"Well, if you're not in immediate danger, let's postpone this talk for a while and have dinner instead? That chili con carne isn't going to eat itself, you know."
Scott's quiet laugh and the thankful nod he received in response made him relieved that even after screwing up so many things lately, he could still do something right and show that he truly cared.
Chapter Text
Chris looked up curiously when Scott joined them in the kitchen. "Where’s Peter?"
"He will be here in a moment, I just told him to grab a t-shirt from my room so that he doesn’t have to walk around the house half naked," Scott explained as he sat on the counter stool.
"So, it's all good between you two now?"
"Yes, it is." Scott's tired but happy smile spoke volumes how much that mattered to him.
Not for the first time Chris wondered how it would feel, to be a werewolf and share such an intimate connection with his Alpha, like the bond Peter and Derek had with Scott. He would be lying if he said that the thought didn't tempt him, but even though other hunters had seemed to reluctantly accept him leaving their ranks, he wasn't sure if that wouldn't change if he actually got the bite and became a werewolf. He wouldn't put it past some of them to force him to commit suicide if that happened.
He shook himself from his thoughts. "I'm glad that you've worked out your differences," he said honestly.
"Me too, but my kitchen... not so much," Melissa looked pointentedly at Scott, then at the dent in the wall.
"Sorry mom, it won't happen again."
"Damn right it won't, this house is in dire need of repairs even without you throwing people around-"
Rather than let Melissa continue her rant, Chris took her hand and kissed it lightly, causing her to stop mid-sentence. "Speaking of, I was thinking about selling my old house and buying something bigger and closer to you guys, so that all our kids have their own rooms there. Maybe you could move with us too while we get the maintenance crew to do some repairs here?" He offered.
He knew that money was a sensitive topic for Melissa and that she was too proud to ever ask him or Peter for financial help, but he hoped that this time she wouldn't mind that much.
She gaped at him, surprised. "Move in with you?"
Before he could reply, Peter walked into the kitchen.
"I'm not here for five minutes and you're already trying to have Melissa all for yourself?"
For a second Chris thought that Peter was being serious, but then the man winked playfully at him and he exhaled in relief, since he didn't feel like arguing with him twice in a day. He then explained his plan once more so that they were all on the same page and looked at Peter expectantly, wondering how the man would take the news.
"I think it's a brilliant idea," Peter announced once he heard the details. "And about the repairs, Melissa darling, I know that normally you wouldn't want to hear anything about me paying for your expenses, but this dent in the wall is entirely my fault. I provoked Scott, so I really should be the one paying for having it patched... and maybe some other minor repairs as well, since the crew would already be here. What do you say?"
Seeing Peter's puppy eyes, Melissa finally relented. "But it's only temporary, right?" she asked.
Chris hesitated for a moment, before he said honestly: "Well, I'm going to have the rooms prepared for you and Scott in case you ever wanted to make this permanent, but let's take it slowly for the time being, alright?"
She nodded in agreement.
"Great, it's decided, then!" Peter grinned and gave her a quick kiss, before he turned around. "Chris, how big is your new house going to be, exactly?"
"Well, it needs to be spacious enough to fit everyone without feeling crowded…"
"Did you count me and Malia, too?"
It was Chris' turn to gap at the man, speechless.
"What, you didn't expect me to let you hog Melissa and the kids all to yourself, did you? Since the three of us are dating, then we should have at least one place where we could be all together, don't you think?"
He blinked, trying to wrap his head around the idea. Having both his lovers with him, it was… incredible, like a dream come true, but-
"Um, sure, but isn't it a little too fast? We've just barely started dating, and I don't want us to rush into anything. I'd hate to lose you if it turns out that living together might not be something you want."
In response, Peter wrapped his hand around his and intertwined their fingers together. "I'm not going to sell my apartment, in case I need some space for myself from time to time. But Chris, I've lived with an entire Hale clan for a majority of my life, and I honestly miss having people around me. Besides, someone needs to keep me in line, so the question is: are you up for the task, lover?"
Chris looked at Peter, past his mischievous, coquettish smile, and saw the vulnerability lurking underneath, the fear of rejection. Knowing that, there was no way he could say no.
"Of course," he murmured, then cupped Peter's face and kissed him tenderly. He was delighted when the man's lips parted invitingly and he deepened the kiss, before they were interrupted by a quiet cough.
"Not that I mind the view, because honestly I don't, but I can hear Isaac and Allison outside, they'll be here in a moment," Scott said apologetically.
"I have a feeling that we might need my apartment for some privacy, after all," Peter murmured, disappointed at their kiss being interrupted.
Chris thought about it: having a house for family time and Peter's place for whenever the three of them wanted to be intimate, and agreed wholeheartedly. He was sure that the kids would be glad if they were left alone from time to time, too.
***
While he was happy to hear about Chris' plans regarding his house and Peter's suggestion that they could all live together, Scott couldn't help but feel envious. Since in the eyes of the world he was still a minor, he couldn't move in with Deucalion even if he wanted... and he wanted it, very much.
His family must have sensed that something was amiss, though.
"Scott, if you don't like our plans-" his mom started hesitantly.
"No, it's not that. I'm happy for you guys and I'm all for living together for the time being, I just wish I was eighteen already and could move in with Deucalion. I know that you don't like him, mom, but being apart, not being able to see him everyday… it's difficult," he admitted.
Melissa was about to reply when Isaac and Allison came in.
"Hi everyone… Why the long faces, did something happen?" Isaac asked, looking between them in confusion. "Wait, why is there a hole in the wall?"
Scott looked at Peter for a second and smiled ruefully. "It's a long story, but we're all good now. I'll set the table and meanwhile we'll explain everything, alright?"
Isaac nodded. "Sure, give me a moment to wash my hands and I'll help you."
"Me too," Allison added.
He smiled, it was good to be among family, even if he wished Deucalion and the twins could be here. Derek and Stiles too. And Jackson. And Liam…
He really hoped that the house that Chris was planning to buy was going to be huge, because they were definitely going to need a lot of space.
***
They were just finishing dinner when they were interrupted by a call, and Chris left the room to pick it up. When he got back, his face was serious.
"I apologize for spoiling the mood, it was the Sheriff, he told me that they closed Gerard's case and marked it as a sucide, just as planned. They're going to release the body tomorrow afternoon, and I just realized that I haven't even started planning the funeral service... I guess I just wanted to forget about the whole thing."
"I could help you with it, if you want," Peter offered, and Chris nodded gratefully.
Scott hesitated for a moment, before he said: "Actually, I was going to ask if you could have him buried anywhere else but in Beacon Hills?"
His mom looked at him, shocked. "How can you even ask such a thing, the man is already dead, isn't that enough for a revenge?"
Chris raised his hand in a conciliatory gesture. "Melissa, please, let him explain. I seriously doubt that revenge is what this is all about."
Scott nodded, glad that Chris knew him well enough to know that, and hoped that the man wouldn't be offended by his request.
"I wouldn't mind if he was buried here, if it wasn't for one person: Kate. Even if we allowed her to come back to Beacon Hills for the funeral only, she could always demand to be allowed back anytime she wanted to visit her father's grave. It would be like an open invitation for her to cause trouble, and I'm sorry to say this, Chris, but we both know that she's like a live grenade just waiting to explode."
Chris sighed heavily. "I know. Damn, I haven't even informed her about our father's death yet, I haven't told anyone from our family, to be honest. And you're right, it's going to be safer for the pack if Gerard was buried as far away from here as possible."
"Dad, what are you going to do?" Allison asked the very question that was on all of their minds at the moment.
"I think…" Chris rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I'll find a company to transport the corpse to France. There's an Argent family mausoleum based in the Basilica of Saint Denis in Argenteuil. Kate can't reasonably object to having our father buried there, it's been a family tradition for centuries, even if a bit forgotten nowadays."
They were silent for a moment, processing the idea.
Peter cleared his throat. "I know that I've offered to help you with this, but considering that there’s going to be a bunch of werewolf hunters there…"
"No, it's fine, I can handle this," Chris assured him. "I'll ask Victoria if she wants to come, she's always been my aunt Brigitte's favorite, more so than I, at least."
"What about me? Would I need to go, too?" They could all tell that Allison wasn't very thrilled about the idea, and Isaac squeezed her hand comfortingly.
"No, sweetheart, you've already missed school when the Alpha Pack arrived in the town, I can't have you miss another week," Chris decided, and she nodded with agreement. "Alright then, France it is. It seems that house hunting will need to wait for a bit, though."
Peter patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Melissa and I will keep an eye on the housing market while you're away. Do what you need to do and then come back to us, alright?"
In response, Chris gave both his lovers a chaste kiss, mindful of the kids still sitting with them at the table. He hated to leave Beacon Hills, especially now when he'd finally found his hapiness, but he needed to see this one thing through before he could go back to building their life together.
Chapter Text
With Chris out of the town, Scott felt out of sorts, as if he was a machine and one of the cogs that made him whole was now missing. He might be the one that had brought the pack together, but it worked both ways, they were all a part of him now, and he was nervous just thinking about what could go wrong during Gerard's funeral.
And if at school he was a little too clingy, touching and hugging his friends every few minutes, well, it wasn't the worst coping mechanism he could have developed... And it's not like his friends were complaining that he was treating them like teddy bears, so there was no harm done, right?
"Oh man, you've got it really bad," Stiles murmured, patting him awkwardly on the back after yet another impromptu hug.
"Sorry, I can't help it," he said sheepishly.
"It's fine, we're all here for you buddy."
"Why the sudden meltdown?" Lydia asked as she joined their group. “Is this about Mr Argent leaving the town?”
He pondered the question for a moment. Most probably, it was because he had literally no control over anything that was happening in France, and it was driving him nuts... What if the Argents wanted revenge over Gerard's death? And if not all the Argents, then Kate for sure would be out for blood, and he could only hope that she wouldn't actually harm her own brother.
"I just hate not being able to help," he explained finally. "That's why I prefer keeping the pack close, to have at least a partial power over what's happening. I know that it's not healthy to be such a control freak, but-"
"You're not a control freak, you simply care," Isaac reasoned. "That's got to be a plus, right?"
"I hope so, because I don't think it's ever going to change."
When the classes ended, he thought to himself that enough was enough, and that he really needed to get himself together. There was a long list of things he had planned: swimming lessons with Matt, helping Jackson with his parents and teaching him how to use his newly acquired werewolf abilities, not to mention taking care of Nogitsune now that he finally had the Triskelion box in his possession… He definitely should start from the last one, at least that way he could keep his word and introduce Lydia to the Nemeton. Not to mention, the sooner they eliminated the threat that Nogitsune posed, the better.
Satisfied with having made at least a rough plan of what needed to be done in the nearest future, he said goodbye to everyone except for Isaac and Allison, and went with them to Chris' car which the man had left Allison for the time being, until he returned from France.
Sitting in the backseat, he allowed himself to reminisce about all the times he'd spent with Chris. The trips to the lake, the talks, the hugs… Not to mention yesterday evening when they'd broken into a tattoo parlor again and he'd tattooed the pack's symbol on Chris' arm. It had been an emotionally-charged moment for both of them, and in hindsight, it was no wonder that he felt so unsettled now that the man was gone; it was like bonding with a Beta, then being separated from them shortly after. It just didn't feel right.
For Isaac's and Allison's stake, though, he put on a smile and let himself be engaged in a conversation about the upcoming chemistry test. He was thankful that he had already gone through the entire high school in the first timeline and while it didn't mean that he didn't have to study, remembering the material he was already somewhat familiar with was much easier and quicker than learning everything from the scratch.
When he entered the house, the sight of a man sitting casually in the living room with Melissa caused him to stop dead in his tracks.
"Dad?" he croaked, then cleared his throat. "Um, what are you doing here?"
“Hello, Scott. I already told your mother that she should check mail more often, as the notification about the trial in the Dunbars’ case had been sent several days ago, and you’ve been called as a witness. Now, why don’t you say goodbye to your friends and ask them to go home so that we can discuss the case.”
Scott stared at him for a moment without understanding, until he remembered that Rafael didn’t know about Isaac’s adoption.
“Dad, Isaac lives here. Mom adopted him, so he’s my foster brother now, and Allison is his girlfriend who’s staying with us for the time being, since her parents went to France for her grandfather’s funeral.”
It was Rafael’s turn to gap at them all, before he turned to Melissa. “You’ve adopted another kid? Why?”
“Frankly speaking, that’s none of your business. What matters is that Isaac is a part of the family, and Allison is as good as. No one’s going anywhere,” she said decisively.
“Can they at least go upstairs while I talk with Scott?”
“Scott’s going to tell us everything afterwards, so it’s going to be easier if we stay,” Isaac suggested.
“I wasn’t talking to you, kid. Did no one teach you to keep silent while the adults talk?”
“You mean my dead mother or my crap of a father who had the habit of beating me into a bloody pulp?” Isaac pretended to think. “Nope, they didn’t.”
Scott sighed. He knew that Isaac was disrespectful only because of Rafael’s patronizing treatment, but adding fuel to the fire wasn’t going to help any.
“Isaac, it’s fine, I’ve got this. As you said, I’m going to tell you everything either way, so can you take Allison to your room, please?” he asked, imploring the teen with his eyes to just let it go and not argue.
Seeing his pleading expression, Isaac nodded.
“Just let us know once you’re done, alright?” Allison asked.
“Of course. Thanks, guys.”
Once they disappeared upstairs, Scott turned to his dad. “Alright, what do you want to know?”
***
Coming back to Beacon Hills wasn’t easy for Rafael. He had buried most memories of this town - including his failed marriage, alcohol problems, and that drunken episode when he’d accidentally pushed his own son down the stairs - into the deepest, most remote parts of his brain so that he didn’t need to face them unless he was forced to.
Well, now he was being forced to face them all at once, and even more, learning about all the things that he’d missed all those years during which he'd engrossed himself in his job and cut off all contact with Scott and Melissa. Things that, apparently, included his ex-wife adopting some mouthy kid, and Scott miraculously healing from his asthma and acquiring new skills.
“Let me get this straight, you’ve fought three grown up men, one of which was armed with a knife, all by yourself, and won without so much as a scratch?” He asked his son incredulously.
“That’s correct.”
The way Scott was looking at him, it was disconcerting, to say the least. A couple years back, the boy had been shy and avoided direct eye contact, but now… Now Scott was sitting before him all calm and collected, as if nothing could phase him, and met his eyes without a blink. Adding to that the official language and the business-like tone of his voice, and he had a weird feeling as if he didn’t question his sixteen year old son, but an adult, and a stranger at that.
And while the 'stranger' part could be chalked up to them not seeing each other for the last couple of years, the feeling of talking to an adult was what worried him the most. What the hell had happened to Scott to make him so… eerily unflappable? Or was it just a mask, a bluff?
Well, there was only one way to find out…
“Show me how you did that, then,” he demanded. “Stand up and fight me.”
The old Scott would have stuttered, or looked away, or tried to turn it all into a joke. But apparently, this new Scott was made of sterner stuff, as he calmly stood up, so Rafael rose from his chair as well.
“No, no, no,” Melissa protested, glaring at him angrily. “I’ve had enough fights in this house, thank you very much. You want to get thrashed, fine, but do that in the backyard.”
He blinked and looked at his ex-wife incredulously. It seemed that not only Scott had changed, but so had she. Just a few years back Mellisa would get apoplectic with rage at the mere suggestion that he would raise his hand at Scott, even in a mock fight, but now she simply… shooed them out of the house? And not only that, she was also convinced that a sixteen year old boy would win a fight with a trained FBI agent, which was laughable.
“You’re having me on, aren’t you? You don’t seriously expect me to believe that Scott has a real chance of winning?”
Melissa just raised her eyebrow at him and pointed to the back door.
If it was a bluff, he had to admit that it was very convincing, so he decided not to play fair, just as he knew that those thugs in the Dunbars’ house probably hadn’t. That’s why the moment they stepped outside, he threw a punch in his son’s direction. He didn’t use all his strength, just as he wouldn’t if he fought an FBI trainee during a practice, but it would still hurt Scott if the hit actually landed. But it didn’t, since Scott not only effortlessly dodged the punch, he also grabbed his arm and twisted it to the point of nearly pulling it off the socket.
He groaned, feeling tears involuntarily gathering in his eyes, and called: “Alright, alright, take it easy!,” then exhaled in relief when Scott let go of his arm.
“Are we done here?” the boy asked, unperturbed.
“Not yet, let’s try again.”
He might have underestimated Scott, but he didn’t plan on doing so again. Also, now that he was fairly sure that Scott could stand his ground, he wasn’t going to cut him any slack.
Unfortunately, when they clashed again, it didn’t go any better than the first time. Scott was simply too fast for him, and all the boy’s movements were as precise and measured as if Rafael fought a master of martial arts, and not a mere teenager. Before he knew it, he had his feet knocked from under him and he fell gracelessly to the ground.
As he rolled to his back and looked up, the first thing he saw was the kids, Isaac and Allison, watching the fight from the window. With a mockingly cheerful grin, Isaac waved his hand at him, and Rafael stifled a curse as he realized that they must have seen him having his ass handed to him by his own son.
Just. Fucking. Brilliant.
Chapter 152
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"I don't get it," Rafael said to Scott, totally baffled, once they went back inside. "Last time I checked, you had asthma and needed to avoid physical exertion, and now..."
"Last time you checked on me was years ago. I'm not the same sickly kid you remember. In fact, it would be best if you forgot everything that you think you know about me, because honestly? Most of it is no longer true."
He looked at Scott from head to toe, silently appraising him. The teen took the scrutiny with a calm air about him, as if he was fully aware of his worth. It didn't seem to be a pose or an act, but if it was, Scott managed to pull it off better than most adults Rafael knew, and that was telling in itself.
Still, the whole 'forget everything you know about me' speech? It sounded like a standard teenage drama, including the tendency to exaggerate and use hyperboles, and it made him think that whatever was happening with his son, he was still just a boy, no matter how adult-like he might seem on the first glance.
"So, if everything has changed now, then I assume that Stiles is no longer your best friend?" he asked, fully expecting his son to protest vehemently. While he didn't like the Stilinski kid all that much, there's got to be something seriously wrong with the universe if that duo ever grew apart.
Scott seemed to be determined to defy his every expectation today, though, as his expression turned half-sad and half-thoughtful. "It's not an easy question, but I'd say that Stiles is still my best teenage friend."
That was a very weird thing for a sixteen year old kid to say, but before he could question Scott on the topic, they were interrupted by an arrival of a man he didn't recognize, but - judging by their expressions - one that Melissa and Scott were quite familiar with.
"Hello darling, you didn't tell me that we were expecting guests," the newcomer said as he put an arm around Melissa's waist in a gesture that was designed to look casual, but Rafael could tell that it was, in truth, one hundred percent possessive, almost territorial.
He took in the man's designer clothes, expensive shoes, and a Vacheron Constantin watch that must have cost more than Rafael earned in half a year, and disliked him on the spot.
"Peter, meet Rafael, my ex-husband, who even after all these years still has a habit of showing up unannounced," Mellisa introduced them tartly. "Raf, this is Peter, my-" she hesitated for a second.
"I'm Melissa's partner, friend, lover, and everything in between," the man interjected with a confident grin, showing off his - of course - perfect teeth. "After all the tales I've heard about Melissa's past, I'm glad for a chance to finally meet you in person and put a face to a name."
Rafael shook the offered hand with a forced smile, and decided against squeezing the man's palm too hard, no matter how much he was tempted to. He didn't want to come across as being juvenile, though, so he just gritted his teeth hard and tried not to show much seeing Melissa with another man rattled him. In all honesty, he was so used to thinking about her as his ex-wife that he hadn't even considered the possibility that she might find someone else to build a relationship with.
It probably wouldn't irk him so much, though, if her new partner was someone mediocre, or even better - a total failure, so that he could tell her with satisfaction: 'See? I wasn't all that bad, and now you've ended up with someone even worse than I.' He would've enjoyed rubbing that in her face, no matter how petty it would make him, because he was sick of her always making him the bad guy. True, he’d used to drink a lot, but many other men did too, and somehow their wives were able to put up with them.
So while he hadn't been the best husband and father, he'd like to think that he wasn't the worst, either. But this… cocky, apparently rich, and much too good looking guy was a proof of what he'd feared and suspected all along: that he wasn't good enough for Melissa, and that she could do better.
The thought was bitter enough that he politely declined an invitation to stay for dinner, and left as soon as he could without appearing rude. Afterwards, he decided to continue with his investigation of the Dunbars' case, because it was either that or going back to his cold, impersonal hotel room, and he'd rather delay that for as long as possible.
Ever since he’d quit drinking, he'd realized that being sober wasn't all that great either, since his head was filled with too many thoughts warring for attention then, from self-critical to outright nihilistic. That's why he'd jumped from one addiction to another, but figured out that being a workaholic was at least more socially acceptable than being an alcoholic, so he'd just went along with it and immersed himself in his job, earning himself a stellar reputation in the FBI.
And if it meant having little to no time for his private life, that was fine with him, since he didn’t have much of that either way.
When he arrived at the Dunbars' house, it turned out that no one was home. Judging by the state of the lawn which hadn't been mowed in what looked to be a couple of weeks, the house must have been unoccupied for quite some time. Cursing his bad luck, he called Stilinski, hoping that as a Sheriff he would know where the Dunbars were staying at the moment, though recalling the man's general ineptitude, he didn't get his hopes up.
"Agent McCall, what do I owe this… unexpected pleasure?" Stilinski's voice was filled with enough contempt to let him know that the call was anything but.
"I’m working on the Dunbars’ case, if you must know. Now, do you know where are they staying? I've checked their house but it's empty, and looks to be deserted for a couple of weeks now."
"I'll text you their address. Is that all?"
"Yes, for now," he said before a thought came to him. "Wait, have you met the man that Melissa is seeing?"
"You mean Peter Hale? Yes, I have, why do you ask?"
A Hale…? That would explain the man's riches, but it only added more questions to the equation. How Melissa had met the man, not to mention, how in the world did he look unscatched, when Rafael knew for a fact that Peter Hale had been horribly burned in the fire that killed most of his family?...
"No reason, I was simply curious," he lied. "I'll call if I need anything else, but for now the Dunbars' current place of residence will suffice."
After a minute or two he got the message with the address from Stilinski, and once he arrived there, he looked at the apartment complex with interest. The building's industrial style, all steel, brick and concrete, was a massive change from the craftsman style house the Dunbars had previously resided in, and he wondered what had caused them to choose this particular place to move in.
He went to the second floor and knocked. After a moment the door opened, revealing a black, middle aged man whom he recognized immediately thanks to having read the case files beforehand.
"Good afternoon Dr Geyer, I wanted to talk with you and your family about the upcoming trial," he displayed his FBI badge. "Can I come in?"
"Yes, of course, though I'm afraid that my wife is at work at the moment," the man gestured to him to come in. "We've recently received the letter from court with the trial date, though I admit that I'm curious why the FBI is getting involved."
"The main reason is that the accused are under investigation for drug dealing and other crimes. But the other reason is my son's involvement in the attack," he admitted, then saw a flicker of understanding in Dr Geyer's eyes.
"You're Agent McCall, Scott's father."
He nodded.
"Well, in that case I want you to know that I'm really thankful for Scott's help. If it wasn't for him, I would be dead, and my wife and son…" Dr Geyer's voice broke, and Rafael gave the man a moment to compose himself, before he continued the questioning.
"Alright, maybe let's start from the beginning. How have you got to know Scott, besides the fact that he's Melissa's son?"
The tale he heard then painted Scott as nearly a saint. Apparently, he had helped David's son, Liam, with his mental disorder, taught him meditation and breathing techniques and by doing so, managed to greatly reduce the number of episodes Liam had had in the last couple of months.
The remainder of their conversation went in a similar vein, with Dr Geyer singing praises about Scott, so Rafael started to get a little suspicious. Even the man's description of the attack was an exact match of Scott's recollection of events, and while normally he would take it as a good sign, this time it seemed to him as if it was… orchestrated?
"Dr Geyer, I know that you feel like you owe Scott for helping you that day, but is there anything that you're not telling me? Something that Scott said or did, perhaps?"
The man looked him straight in the eye then, his gaze strangely intense, as he replied: "Considering everything that Scott has done for us, I honestly think that he's one of the best people I've ever met. What concerns me, though, is that you don't seem to be as interested in the men who attacked us as you are in proving that your son couldn't possibly be as good-natured and capable as he seems. I really hope that the trial itself will be more focused on proving the perpetrators' guilt, instead.”
Feeling chastised but not wanting to admit it, he quickly changed the topic and asked if he could talk with Liam.
Dr Geyer nodded, then added: "In my presence, of course."
"Of course," he said smoothly, hiding a grimace behind a polite smile.
"Please give me a moment, I'll go fetch him, he's in the flat next to ours with his friend Mason."
"I'll go with you, since it's only going to take a minute or two," he offered. With David present, he highly doubted that the man’s son would say anything of value, anyway.
And he was right, as soon as he asked Liam about the day of the attack and how Scott got involved, the boy straightened at once and recited the same story his stepfather had, his eyes gleaming with devotion and almost obsessive hero-worship. Rafael pretended to listen attentively while in truth he was observing the other teen, Mason, from the corner of his eye. The kid grimaced each time Scott was mentioned, and seemed to be the only other person in the room (beside Rafael, that is) not taken in by Scott's charm.
A plan forming in his head, he finished the conversation by saying: "Thank you. If any of you have anything to add or remember something that seems unusual or suspicious, feel free to contact me," then handed all three his business cards.
He was fairly sure that the Dunbars wouldn't call him, but Mason… that was an entirely different story, he could tell. He didn't even have to wait for too long, he only went to eat something in a local restaurant and was just heading back to the car when his phone rang.
"Um, Agent McCall? This is Mason Hewitt speaking, Liam's friend. You said that we could call you if we have any suspicions."
"Hello Mason, that's right. Is there anything you wanted to share with me?" He asked, trying not to sound too eager.
"Well, it's regarding your son so I'm not sure if you'd like to hear what I have to say," the kid said bluntly.
"To be honest, I didn't have much contact with him for the last couple of years, so be assured that I'm going to treat this case in an entirely professional manner."
"Okay. Um, I don't have any proof, but something about the way Scott wormed his way into the Dunbars' lives seems fishy. Even the first time we met didn't seem to be a coincidence, it felt... staged, instead. I don't know what Scott's plan is, but if it's concerning Liam, I want to find out."
"Thank you for sharing your concerns with me, and I agree that there are simply too many coincidences in that tale, at least for my taste," he said honestly. "It doesn’t have to be anything sinister, but it wouldn't hurt to have an eye on Scott, just in case your concerns prove to be valid. But he's going to be wary of me, so I wonder if you could be my eyes and ears, instead? You seem perceptive enough for the task."
It never hurts to use some old-fashioned flattery combined with giving a potential informant a sense of importance. Not many teenagers could claim to have helped an FBI agent, after all…
"Liam's too blinded and in awe of Scott to see reason, so yeah, I'll keep an eye on both of them, and I'll let you know if I see anything suspicious,” Mason promised.
Hearing that, Rafael smiled with triumph.
Notes:
Next: we'll get to see what's happening with Chris in France.
Chapter 153
Notes:
I know literally three words in French: poulet, merci & au revoir, so I didn't even try to translate the dialogues into French. Sorry!
Chapter Text
The trip to France brought back memories that Chris would rather forget. They weren't sad or painful in themselves, no. The problem was that they were recollections of happier times, times when everything had been simpler, his family hadn't been divided, and he'd been fully convinced that all hunters followed the Code.
This was what he'd been raised to believe, that if hunters killed werewolves, it was because it was the right thing to do, that it was justified. Not something to revel in, surely, but a grim necessity to ensure that all the people who were oblivious to the supernatural world could sleep in their beds at night, undisturbed. And if he'd seen the world in black and white, never stopping to think for himself… Well. In hindsight, those simpler times were anything but, and he hadn't been happy, he'd been brainwashed and indoctrinated, like generations of hunters before him.
"You're even more quiet than usual," Victoria commented once they hired a car and were on their way from Paris to Argenteuil. "Is there something particular on your mind, beside the obvious?"
"If by obvious you mean meeting my whole family, having to explain to them that before he died, Gerard betrayed everything he'd preached his whole life, and that I pulled the trigger myself, then no, nothing in particular," he said tartly.
She raised an eyebrow at him, clearly unimpressed. "I know that you get testy when you're nervous or stressed, so it's good to know that at least that one thing about you hasn't changed. But I actually meant Kate, do you have a plan on how to handle the confrontation with her?"
Chris avoided her inquisitive stare and looked through the car window instead. In all honesty, he had no idea how the confrontation with Kate would go, besides the gut feeling that it was going to go downhill very quickly.
"Let me deal with Kate, while you handle aunt Brigitte and uncle Hubert," he finally said.
"I'm not sure which one of us drew the short straw," she deadpanned, and he snorted.
"Please, we both know that you're the niece they wished they had but got me instead."
They both smirked at the same time, and he was surprised at how good it felt, being able to joke with her as if they didn't count the days to the moment their divorce would finally be in force. Not being her husband anymore would mean no obligations, and no expectations which he'd always failed to meet, and it made their relations that much easier.
"Thank you for agreeing to come here with me," he said after a moment of driving in weirdly comfortable silence. "But I was wondering, why did you?"
She pressed her lips for a moment. "You really don't get it, do you? I shouldn't be surprised, you've always been a bit on the slow side when it comes to politics, but I'll spell it out for you: in a couple of days I'll no longer be an Argent matriarch. Nurturing the current partnerships and alliances might not be enough to allow me to retain the current standing in our society, but hopefully it'll cushion the fall."
It was so typical of Victoria, to worry about politics and social status… For him, it seemed like an unnecessary hassle, since he honestly didn't care anymore about any of it, if he'd ever cared at all. But it was important to Victoria, and he grimaced thinking about what their divorce would cost her, in addition to what she'd already lost: a husband and her only daughter, since she'd agreed that Allison would stay with him.
He couldn’t honestly say that he regretted that they were splitting up, though. He would never trade his current freedom of choosing whom he wanted to be with for being trapped in a loveless, political marriage. But there was no animosity between Victoria and him, either, and he certainly didn't wish her ill.
"You love being a werewolf hunter, so I have no doubt that you'll manage to bounce back straight to the top," he said with conviction.
During all their years together he'd learned one thing, that Victoria was like a cat and had an unparalleled skill to always land on her feet.
***
The meeting with the French branch of their family didn't go exactly as expected. He'd suspected that they would be greeted with whispered condolences and compulsory air-kisses, and then maybe go to uncle Hubert's office where they could speak in private, without other relatives present.
None of these predictions turned out to be accurate, since the moment they passed the borders of the Argents' property they were stopped by armed guards, forced to leave the car, then escorted to the family mansion. SInce each question about what was happening was met with indifferent glances and total silence on the guards' side, Chris quickly stopped asking, knowing that they probably didn't know much besides the orders they'd been given, and even if they did, they wouldn’t tell them anything.
Once they were inside the mansion, they were ushered to an empty room where they were ordered to turn over all of their weapons and once they complied, they were thoroughly searched if they hadn't left anything. Chris tried to take it all in stride but he could see that Victoria was seething and on the verge of raising some real hell.
"Victoria, it's not worth it, save your energy for whoever came up with all of this," he said, trying to sound calm and reasonable. To his relief, she only muttered rebelliously under her breath but didn't try to put up a fight anymore.
Only when they were stripped of anything that could potentially be harmful - and among hunters, that was nearly everything, including his belt, as well as Victoria's bag and brooch - were they led to the parlor. Even the choice of the room was telling in itself; the parlor was used when speaking with guests, and was more of a formal space, while family usually met in the living or hearth room.
Victoria knew it too, of course, and her face darkened. "The sheer audacity-" she hissed, outraged. The next moment they were joined by Hubert and Brigitte, so she straightened at once, but didn't look appeased just yet. "Aunt, uncle, I sincerely hope that you have a valid reason for this… appalling treatment."
"We do, actually," Brigitte said coldly. Even in her sixties, she was still a formidable woman, always standing tall and proudly, her hair tied in a tight bun with not even a strand out of place. "The fact that my late brother's body bears a bite wound in addition to a shot wound has raised some questions, and so did Kate's story."
"Kate arrived before us?" Chris asked, surprised.
"She did. And imagine our surprise when she approached us saying that you're a traitor, that you've been aiding werewolves for quite some time and that she suspects that you were involved, or maybe even directly responsible, for my brother's death. Care to explain yourself?"
Uncle Hubert sat down in an armchair, then gestured to them to do the same. "We simply want to hear your side of the story before coming to any decision. But surely you can understand our caution, considering that such serious accusations were leveled against you."
Chris closed his eyes for a moment. He'd hoped that he would have a chance to speak with them before Kate did, but it seemed that instead of preventative actions he would need to do some serious damage control, now.
"Well, Kate's not entirely wrong, but she lacks context," he admitted hesitantly.
"Then give us that context, so that we can make the judgement ourselves," Brigitte demanded, looking at him expectantly.
After taking a deep breath, he told them everything he knew about Gerard, including the murders staged to look like werewolves' attacks, the capture and death of Cora Hale, and finally how Gerard threatened to kill Isaac unless Scott agreed to bite him.
"But why would my brother, who was one of the most zealous werewolf hunters I've ever known, want to be bitten? It doesn’t make any sense," Brigitte frowned.
"It does if you consider the fact that he was diagnosed with cancer. Apparently, such a definite reminder of one's mortality is enough to corrupt even the best of us," Victoria said grimly. "I wouldn't believe it if I didn't witness it myself, but it’s true. Gerard wanted to become a werewolf in the hope that it would cure him."
"How did he die, then?"
"Not having much choice with his friend being held at gunpoint, Scott bit Gerard. Afterwards, I pulled out a gun and shot Gerard," Chris said dispassionately.
His uncle and aunt stared at him with angry disbelief.
"If Chris didn't, I would have done it myself," Victoria added, her eyes hard and unrelenting. "Gerard was not only my father-in-law, he was also my teacher and mentor. He'd taught me everything I know about being a hunter, but from the moment he succumbed to the temptation and betrayed our rules by demanding to be bitten, he was already dead to me."
The strong front Brigitte presented up until now finally crumbled and her shoulders shook with suppressed sobs.
"My poor brother, why did he do this, he used to be better than this-"
Hubert patted her awkwardly on the back, which reminded Chris how unused to physical contact their family really was, and he was all the more grateful for all the hugs he'd been given by the pack. Before he'd gotten to know Scott, he'd been touch deprived to some extent, but he finally started to realize that it wasn't a deliberate, purposeful neglect on his family's side, it was just the way they had all been raised and taught to behave.
"I'm sorry that it came to this, but I stand by my choice. Gerard crossed the line several times, he came into our house, then pointed a gun at a sixteen year old, completely human boy, just to use him as leverage and ensure that his demands were met. I apologize for being blunt, but the truth is that he brought it on himself."
Brigitte wiped her eyes, then looked at him shrewdly, as if the earlier moment of weakness never happened.
"And to think that I used to think that you're too soft to truly be one of us," she commented. "How ironic that you've proved me wrong by killing my own brother."
Once, he'd give almost everything for her approval, since for as long as he could remember, Brigitte had always found him wanting, and criticized him at every occasion. But he no longer cared for her approval or acceptance, so it was meaningless to him now.
"I'm not one of you, not anymore," he said quietly.
"Chris, don't," Victoria hissed warningly. "Not now."
"They'll learn the truth sooner or later, and I'd rather they heard it from me, rather than from someone else," he retorted, then turned to Hubert and Brigitte. "Aunt, uncle, I hereby resign from my position as werewolf hunter. I've already ceased all hunter activities, but I wanted to formally inform you about my decision."
Brigitte looked as if she wanted to argue, but Hubert considered his words thoughtfully, his gaze strangely sad.
"Being a hunter disappointed you, didn't it?"
"It's not what it's supposed to be, no one truly cares about the Code anymore, and all werewolves are painted as monsters, while a majority of them simply try to live peacefully and avoid trouble," he tried to explain.
"So instead of trying to do anything about it, you've decided to just... leave? I didn't take you for a quitter," Hubert raised his eyebrow, as if challenging Chris to prove him wrong.
"It's not only that, uncle. I've met werewolves who became my friends, one of them even sacrificed his Alpha powers to heal Allison when she was accidentally shot by one of the Calaveras hunters. If it wasn't for werewolves, my daughter would be dead now… It's a debt I'll never be able to repay."
"And if I ask her about this, will Araya be able to confirm your story?" Brigitte asked skeptically, so he nodded. "Very well, I think we've heard enough for now and we'll need to take a moment to consider everything that you've told us so far. The staff will show you to your room, but don't try to leave it for the time being."
It seemed that they weren't off the hook just yet, but considering that they weren't thrown into the dungeon or expelled from the property, he'd say it was a good sign.
"Will we get our stuff back?"
"Everything but weapons. Those will be returned to you upon your leave," Brigitte rose from her chair, showing that the discussion was over. Deciding that it wasn't worth it to argue with her on that, he stood up as well, and so did Hubert and Victoria.
"Considering the circumstances of Gerard's death, maybe you don't want to hear it from me, but I truly am sorry for your loss," he said hesitantly.
Brigitte looked away, not saying anything, but Hubert nodded with acceptance before they left.
Chapter Text
Later that afternoon when they were requested to join the family meeting in the dining room, Chris wondered absentmindedly what kind of animal the Argents could be compared to. Maybe in the past they had been like lions, he supposed, the very embodiment of courage, strength and valor. Nowadays he would be more inclined to compare them to crocodiles, cold-blooded and deadly, though considering how they were looking at him now, he had an unpleasant feeling that they were more like sharks, drawn to even the tiniest amount of blood - show them weakness, and they'll eat you whole.
… Well, maybe not all of them. Looking at his cousin Nico, he was tempted to compare him to a sheep than anything else. Being the only son of a proud, possessive, strong-willed matriarch couldn't be the easiest, but he had a strong suspicion that Nico was simply bland and undecisive by nature, and that Brigitte and Hubert's parenting skills had nothing to do with it.
His musings were interrupted by the very person he wanted to see the most and dreaded it in an equal measure: his sister.
"Murderer!" she screamed at him, her face flushed with anger. Before he had the chance to reply, she grabbed him roughly by the shirt, then pulled out a gun and pressed it to his temple, the hard, cold metal digging painfully into his skin.
"Katherine, put it down, now!" Aunt Brigitte's voice was sharp and cutting like a whip. "Didn't I say it clearly enough: 'no weapons'? I understand that you're upset, but in this house you either listen to me, or get thrown out. And if you even think about pulling that trigger, you'll be put down like an animal that you’re currently resembling."
Kate breathed heavily, and she was so close to him that he could smell alcohol on her breath. Slowly, reluctantly, she put the gun down, though her other hand still clutched his shirt in a tight grip.
"He was. Our. Father!" she hissed right into his face.
"That didn't make Gerard any less of a traitor," Victoria commented, her voice icy cold, and Chris couldn’t help but be grateful for her bold intervention which took Kate’s focus away from him. "He purposely and willingly got himself bitten by a werewolf, and it's punishable by death. This is our law, so Chris simply carried out the sentence, and as the matriarch of the Argents' US branch, I've agreed with his decision."
Kate whipped around to face her. "Why should we trust anything you say, you're Chris' wife, of course you'd lie just to save his hide!"
"Excuse me?" Victoria scoffed, offended. "I don't lie, I don't need to, especially considering that in two weeks I'll no longer be his wife. We're divorcing, and if I was a lesser woman I could lie just to get him punished. But I value being a matriarch more than I value revenge, so even if it's the last thing that I do in this role, I'm going to ensure that the truth is recognized: that Chris only did what was necessary."
Everyone stared at them, shocked.
"Divorce?" Nico said weakly, while Brigitte asked them sharply why they would do such a thing.
Chris looked at Victoria with a feeling that was very nearly sadness, and tasted almost as bitter as regret, though it wasn't quite it. This might be what lost chances feel like, he thought to himself, but then he’d already accepted it. He was thankful for her support today, but it couldn’t change the fact that she was the very embodiment of the life he no longer wanted to be a part of.
"Irreconcilable differences," he said finally.
"In what area?"
Seeing as Brigitte didn't seem inclined to let it go, he said through gritted teeth: "With all due respect, aunt, it's a private matter and I won't discuss it with you or anyone else. We've already signed the papers, and that's all everyone needs to know."
"It concerns the entire family, so it's everything but a private matter," Brigitte disagreed. "Are you even aware of how difficult a situation you've put us all, boy, with my brother's death and your divorce on top of it? Who am I going to appoint to lead the hunters in the US now?"
"I'm the perfect choice, auntie, and I'll prove it to you by smoking out all the werewolves in Beacon Hills out of their filthy holes," Kate grinned eagerly, almost maniacally, and Chris couldn't take it.
"Just like you burned the Hale house down to the ground, killing innocents, killing children?"
"Yes!" she roared. "If they're werewolves, they're hardly innocent, all these beasts need to be wiped out!"
He stared at her, shocked into silence. In that moment he knew with certainty that there was nothing left of his sister. His Katie, the joyful little girl who loved flying a kite and playing tag with him, was gone for good, and her place took this crazed, bloodthirsty stranger.
He didn’t know her at all.
"Don’t even think about hurting my pack, or you’ll be the one hunted down,” he warned, fully prepared to follow through on his threat.
“Enough!” Uncle Hubert boomed. “What do I hear about killing children? Victoria, did you know about it?”
“I’ve learned about it only recently, and since a few werewolves survived the arson, I ordered Kate to leave the town permanently, for both her and their protection. As long as she doesn’t come back, the Hales agreed not to seek revenge.”
“A wise decision,” Brigitte nodded with approval, before she frowned. “Chris, what did you mean by your pack? If you’ve got yourself bitten-”
“No, aunt, nothing of that sort. I’m a human ally to the McCall and Hale packs,” he didn’t mention the Alpha Pack, since he didn’t want to add fuel to the fire by mentioning Deucalion, especially since he didn’t know the man all that much, and they were mostly allies by association - through Scott. “I’ve consulted this with Araya first, and she said that the Code doesn’t forbid hunters from quitting and allying with werewolves, it only forbids from becoming one.”
“Why her? Why not us?”
“Because she’s both my senior and an impartial party. You and uncle Hubert are far from being uninvolved.”
Brigitte’s reproach was almost palpable as she said: “Let me recap this, Kate is hell bent on killing all werewolves while you’ve decided to ally with them… Are you both raving mad? Victoria, which side are you on in this?”
His soon to be ex-wife snorted. “Neither, of course. The incident with Gerard aside, they both took their stances to the extremes, which in our line of work is unacceptable. Our task is to ensure that werewolves behave themselves and not endanger anyone. We’re certainly not here to kill them unprovoked, but we shouldn’t befriend them either, because that leads to conflicts of interest.”
Aunt and uncle shared a look, then Brigitte straightened. “Alright, we’ve heard both sides and come to our decision. Kate, I sustain Victoria’s decision, you are forbidden from entering Beacon Hills, and if you ever break that order, you’ll be cast out from the family permanently. Going forward, the same punishment will also apply if you kill any werewolf outside of the Code guidelines. Do you understand?”
For a second Kate looked like she wanted to rebel, but she bit her lower lip and nodded stiffly instead.
Chris exhaled slowly, his muscles relaxing, but he tensed up again once Brigitte’s hawk-like stare landed on him. “Chris, you’ve left the hunters and voluntarily allied yourself with the werewolves. This is unacceptable and sets a dangerous precedent which needs to be put to a stop. Unless you renounce the packs that you’ve so thoughtlessly joined, you’re going to be stripped of our family name, support, and denied entrance to all Argent properties. Do you need some time to decide?”
He was being disowned, he realized with shock. He was going to lose his name and inheritance, and on what grounds? For following his heart and being loyal to the very people who gave him a new purpose in life?...
Flashback
He nods at Scott to show that he's ready, but still twitches once the needle makes the first contact with his skin. He hears Peter’s soft laugh.
“I thought you said that you’re not afraid of needles?”
“I’m not afraid,” he mumbles, embarrassed. “It was just a tic, a knee-jerk reaction, that’s all.”
“Uh-hm,” Peter murmurs doubtfully, though his eyes are still shining with amusement. “Do you want me to hold your hand? As a preventive measure for any future… tics, of course.”
He thinks of Peter’s manly, strong hands and twitches again, though this time for an entirely different reason.
“Guys, please, let me finish the tattoo and then get a room,” Scott grumbles. “Enhanced senses, remember?”
“You should be glad your mother decided that she wanted to have nothing to do with breaking and entering…”
Peter continues their banter, his whole face alight with happiness, and Chris can feel it too. The sense of belonging, aching sweetly in his very bones and even deeper, in his blood and marrow, in the very essence of his being. He wants to feel even more of it, so he seizes it-
Peter and Scott look at him almost in sync, their eyes opened wide.
“Did you just?...”
“How did you-”
That day, he learns that a pack bond can be shared by a human too, and thinks that he won’t trade it for anything, ever.
He shook himself from his thoughts, knowing that there was only one response he could give to his aunt and uncle.
“No, I've already decided,” he said with tranquil calmness which surprised even him, and he rolled the sleeves of his shirt up, displaying his new tattoo for all the world to see, the infinity symbol in a perfect circle. “I belong with my pack.”
“Careful, or you’re not going to be an Argent anymore,” Hubert warned him.
“Then I’m going to be a McCall. Or Hale-McCall. You’ve studied werewolves your entire life, uncle, you should know how tight the pack bonds can be, and ours is-” unbreakable, he wanted to stay, but he settled for: “-stronger than most.”
When his aunt proceeded to officially disown and cast him out from the family, it didn’t even hurt as much as he'd thought it would.
Chapter 155
Notes:
Alright guys, yesterday I took the third vaccine for COVID, and this one was the worst for me so far. I had fever, nausea and some awful dizzy spells to the point I couldn't walk to a bathroom without assistance... In moments such as these, I'm grateful to have such a wonderful husband who helped me to get through it all. If you wonder what's the best material for a life partner, the answer is: someone who would be there for you when you're so sick that you can barely stand.
Anyways, if anything about this chapter feels wonky, blame it on the vaccine, not me, haha :D
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
As with most things in life, it turned out that being disowned was a complicated affair, especially considering that a huge chunk of the Argent wealth had belonged to Gerard and Chris was now legally entitled to a half of it. Some concessions on both sides needed to be made, but since aunt Brigitte was a firm believer of washing one's dirty laundry at home, after a couple of hours of heated debacle they finally managed to settle the matter between them, before they called in the attorney to prepare the legal docs.
In the end, the deal was rather simple: he would trade his part of Gerard's estate in return for having the sole ownership of the Argent LLC, their US-based arms dealing company, as well as a couple of the properties on the West Coast. He had to agree to leave the Atlantic Coast properties to Kate, though, in return for her part in Argent LLC which she too inherited from Gerard. Additionally, he would get nothing of the family fortune besides the company's assets and income, but he knew that he could earn his own money, he didn't need theirs.
As for his last name, it weren't the dark ages anymore, so they couldn't exactly strip him of it beside the symbolic sense of the entire family not recognizing him as their kin, but he agreed to change it after his return to Beacon Hills, on the condition that Allison was still considered an Argent and a part of the family, if this was her wish. His aunt agreed at once, admitting that she still hoped that Allison wouldn't follow in his footsteps in regards to siding with werewolves. Chris didn't disabuse her of that notion.
The most surprising - and positive, this time - was Brigitte's decision that until a suitable replacement was found, Victoria should still act as the matriarch of the US branch of the Argent family, despite the divorce. After hearing that, Kate threw the freshly signed papers to the floor and stormed out in a huff, with Brigitte saying to her retreating back that it was exactly the kind of behavior that made her unsuitable for any kind of position of power.
"I'm afraid that Gerard favored her a little too much, and this is the result," Brigitte sighed heavily, before she remembered who she was talking to: an estranged, former member of the family. She straightened at once, her expression turning cold. "I should think it's obvious, but I'll say it clearly in order to avoid any misunderstandings: you're not welcome at my brother's funeral or the service after."
Chris nodded. "I understand. I'll leave first thing tomorrow morning, Victoria will stay and represent us both."
And that was it, both his aunt and uncle, and even cousin Nico, they all looked away when he stood up to leave the room. Only Victoria replied to his 'good night,' so he suspected that he shouldn't expect anyone from his former family to meet him in the morning to see him off. He was then led upstairs by a servant who seemed to have already guessed or been informed about his fall from grace, since Chris' request to have a late dinner brought to his room was met with no verbal response, only a small, reluctant nod.
Later in the evening, while sipping a glass of wine (awfully sour and probably also ridiculously expensive, as everything here), he thought wistfully about Peter and Melissa. He recalled that they both enjoyed drinking wine more than he ever would, and felt a sudden bout of homesickness. He honestly couldn't wait to leave the mansion with its heavy atmosphere and old-fashioned customs, and return to his true family.
He was just putting the glass away when the balcony doors rattled as someone knocked on them. When he went to check it, he saw his niece gesturing at him to let her in.
"Geraldine, what are you doing here?" he asked, totally flummoxed.
She looked older than when he’d last seen her; she was no longer a child, but a teenage girl just a step before turning into a young woman. Even though they didn’t see each other often, she’d always been his favorite out of the whole family, and he’d like to think that the sentiment was reciprocated.
"Hello uncle! I asked the butler to give you this room, because the balcony is connected to mine," she whispered, her eyes darting nervously around. "Do you think anyone heard me coming in?"
"I don’t think so, the hallway was completely empty. Why the secrecy though?"
"Grandma forbade me from talking to you, which is totally unfair! I only ever get to see you at weddings, funerals and such, and now she’s not letting me see you, and wouldn’t even tell me why …” she pouted. “So I talked to daddy and he explained everything about the whole werewolf thing, and said that if I wanted to talk to you, then he would cover for me and keep grandma and grandpa busy.”
He blinked, surprised. “Nico said that?”
Geraldine snorted. “You didn’t buy his act, did you? Daddy always says that he has more freedom to act from the background than he would ever have if he was in the spotlight.”
If what Geraldine said was true, then he’d seriously misjudged his cousin. And to think that he'd always considered Nico a spineless, weak coward…
“Why are you telling me this? Why now?”
“Because daddy and I, we always thought that you bought into the whole werewolf hunter propaganda, and didn’t want to risk that you’d tell on us. But you’re one of us now!”
“Us?”
He had the feeling that his only contribution to the whole conversation was just asking questions, as he struggled to follow Geraldine’s train of thought.
“The rebels, of course! The Argents who think that the hunters’ methods are behind the times and would use some… updating,” she huffed. “Now, will you let me see your new tattoo? Pretty please?” She looked at him with huge, puppy eyes.
He had never been good at resisting them, and now wasn’t any different, so he rolled his sleeve up and showed her his pack symbol. Seeing it, Geraldine squealed with delight and gushed how pretty it was. He didn’t know if he should be happy that she accepted his change of loyalties so easily, or embarrassed that she considered his tattoo ‘pretty’.
They talked some more, before she started to yawn, and he realized that it was after midnight already. Traveling from one continent to another always left him confused about the local time, and while he didn't suffer much from jet lag, it did mess up his sleeping habits to an extent.
"You should go back to your room and get some sleep," he told Geraldine.
"I don't wanna-" she yawned again. "Alright, I'm going. But promise that you'll keep in touch, it's the 21st century, we have Facebook, Whatsapp… There's no excuse not to stay in contact."
He chuckled and promised that he would keep in touch, then hugged her goodbye.
As he was closing the balcony doors, he thought to himself that by being cast out from the family he had a unique opportunity to find out who would stay by his side, and who would blindly follow Brigitte's orders.
***
Even though his friends' presence helped, Scott couldn't help but feel a little overwhelmed by everything that was going on, and needed time to figure out how he wanted to approach… Well, a lot of things, his dad’s presence in town and the upcoming trial for starters. That's why during lunch break he told his friends to eat without him, and went to sit with Boyd instead, which he always did whenever he needed to gather his thoughts.
There was something about Boyd's silent, unassuming presence that always helped him to focus. He didn't know how or why that was, but he figured out that as long as it worked, he should simply take advantage of it and not question it… Right?
So why did it feel like he was using the boy for his own gain, without giving anything in return? How much did he know about Boyd, anyway? Not much, and it was worrying. What did he like, did he have any interests, hobbies?
Boyd looked at him stoically once Scott joined him.
"What's up?"
"I was thinking…" he hesitated for a second. "What do you want to do after high school? Do you have any plans for the future?"
The boy shrugged. "I don't have many options, do I? I'm not smart enough to go to college, so I'll probably end up working on a construction site or be a shop clerk or something. I dunno. You?"
"If I survive high school? Become a vet, most probably. And don't sell yourself short, you're intelligent enough for me."
"Thanks, but I'm just life-smart, not book-smart," Boyd grumbled, though he seemed pleased by the compliment. "I don't get physics or math, for example."
He snorted. "You're not the only one, that's for sure. You should meet my friend Malia, math doesn’t make sense to her either, like at all."
Boyd looked away and didn't say anything, though Scott could tell that something was bothering him.
"Hey, what is it? You can tell me everything, you know."
"Can I really?" Boyd looked at him challengingly. "Because it seems that you don't want me to be a part of your gang, pack, or whatever you're calling your group of friends."
Scott pinched his nose, undecided. Should he tell Boyd everything? Or should he continue to keep him at arm’s length, as he'd been doing the last few months? But it wasn't exactly fair, was it?
"The only reason for that is that we're keeping some serious secrets, and it's safer for us not to include anyone else," he explained carefully. "You're either in or out, there's nothing in between."
"What if I want in?" Boyd folded his arms on his chest, though Scott could see the vulnerability hidden underneath the defensive pose.
"And you agree to treat everything that you'll hear as confidential and not to be revealed to anyone else?"
"Scott, you are my only friend. I don't have anyone else to tell," Boyd admitted, then ducked his head, embarrassed.
It hurt to hear him admit it, but Scott knew that it was the truth: Boyd truly didn't have anyone else.
He hummed thoughtfully. "Well, there are two more things that you need to know about me…"
"What things?"
"First, that I hug my friends constantly," he grinned unrepentantly. "If you’re going to be a part of our pack, you need to be prepared for an unusually high number of hugs and cuddles. If you don't like physical closeness, then you’re not going to fit well with us.”
“I think I’ll manage,” Boyd deadpanned. “And the second thing?”
“I'm a werewolf."
Boyd stared at him for a long moment, and Scott didn't look away, even for a second.
"Okay," the boy said finally.
It was Scott's turn to gap at him. "What? That's it? You don't want me to prove it to you?"
Boyd shrugged. "I told you that I'm life-smart. I know when people are lying to me, I always have, and you weren't lying about the hugs, or about being a werewolf. So if you're not lying, then either you're crazy, or... it must be true."
He stared at the boy as if he saw him for the first time, and maybe he did, in a way. If Boyd truly was able to sense if someone was lying to him, then it could mean that he had some kind of supernatural blood in him. Not to mention, such an ability could come in handy during meetings with other packs, it would help a lot if they were able to tell if someone was being truthful or not, regardless of their heartbeat which can be faked. Not to mention, it sounded like an invaluable skill for an emissary.
"Hey Boyd, I think I've just figured out a perfect profession for you…"
Notes:
So, this concludes Chris' visit in France, and he'll be returning to Beacon Hills alone, since Victoria will stay in Argenteuil a couple of days longer.
Chapter 156
Notes:
This chapter is dedicated to So_Clever_I_Dont_Know_April, because she suffered from Scott/Deucalion withdrawal.
It was already planned but was supposed to be happen a couple of chapters in the future, but here it is!
Warnings: 1) enthusiastic sexual content, 2) mentions of non-con (flashback only).
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Enough is enough, Scott thought sternly to himself. Lately he'd been so busy taking care of pack matters that he'd neglected to take care of himself, and it pained him to admit it, also his and Deucalion's relationship, and it simply wouldn't do. That's why he'd made sure to tell his friends that he needed some private time, and he would appreciate it if they didn't call or text him today unless it was an absolute emergency.
He took his sweet time in sprucing himself up: took shower, shaved, then dressed in his best button-up shirt and perfectly matched trousers. He knew that Deucalion didn't mind his everyday clothes and that the man found him attractive no matter how he looked, but surely it didn’t mean that he wouldn't appreciate it if Scott showed up at his doors all dolled up every once in a while.
As he went downstairs, his mom looked pained at seeing him dressed up.
"It's for Deucalion, isn't it?"
He pretended to be confused by the question. "Of course, who else would it be for?"
"Are you absolutely sure that he's the right guy? You could find someone better, younger-"
While Melissa hadn't been actively trying to break up their relationship anymore, it didn't stop her from hoping against hope that he would change his mind and choose someone else... which wasn't going to happen.
He put his hands on her shoulders. "Mom, we've been through this, he's the one for me. We just… fit so well together. When I'm with him-"
Before he could continue, Melissa interrupted him: "Alright, you two are a perfect match, got it, no need to go into details. Have fun."
He chuckled at her pained grimace and kissed her cheek. "Thanks mom, I certainly will. The whole evening, preferably."
"Ugh, out, out!"
He continued to laugh on his way out.
***
Being with Scott was the best thing that had ever happened to him, but sometimes it also felt... lonely. Deucalion didn't want to complain or appear too needy, but he missed his lover badly and yearned to spend more time with him. The problem was, he knew that Scott had a lot on his plate at the moment, just as he always had, so he couldn't simply demand that Scott drop everything just so that they could spend some time together. Pack came first, and he came second, that's how it was going to be, how it had to be, and he needed to accept it.
That's why he was surprised when he got a message from Scott asking him to look through the window.
He did, and his heart instantly beat quicker at the sight of his lover standing in front of the building, giving him a wave, then going inside. Before he knew it, there was a knock on the door, and Scott was standing before him, looking almost too good to be true. His mouth watered at the sight and he swallowed, the sound of it almost obscenely loud in the sudden silence.
"Scott, I didn't expect-" he croaked, before he managed to get a grip on himself. "You look fabulous."
"Good, that was exactly the point." Scott put a hand on his chest and pushed him against the wall, then leaned in so close that his moist lips brushed Deucalion's earlobe. "I can't sense the twins, will they be back soon?"
"They're doing shopping, they should be out for a while."
"Perfect," Scott purred, and it sent a shot of arousal straight into Deucalion's groin. "I want you to make love to me in any way you'd like. It can be slow and sensual, or hard and fast, however you want."
Damn, it should be against the law to be this hot, this tempting…
"Bed," he rasped, suddenly breathless, and reveled in Scott's delighted laugh just a moment before his lips were caught in a hungry kiss that was anything but innocent.
They continued to kiss as they clutched at each other's clothes, trying to take them off while at the same time stumbling to the bedroom. It was a bit of a challenge, but they managed to get there without bumping into anything… much.
"Scott, wait. I mean, I want it, but what prompted this?" He managed to ask when his lover bent to take off shoes.
"I've neglected you - No, don't say that I haven't, we both know that it's the truth - so I want to make it up to you." Scott looked at him seriously, though the effect was somehow ruined since they had just snogged each other within an inch of their lives. "Not to mention, I'm horny as hell, and you're sex on legs, so could we get back to it?"
Well, when put like that… Who was he to say no? He nodded, not trusting his voice, then his breath hitched even more when Scott unbuckled his trousers and took them off, showing off his very noticeable erection pressing against the fabric of his boxer briefs.
"So tell me love, how do you want me?" His young lover asked, eyes gleaming with excitement.
Deucalion swallowed hard, and thought to himself that he was a lucky, lucky man.
***
While he would like to say that he made love to Scott gently and with all the tenderness his lover fully deserved, the truth was that they were too aroused and hungry for each other to go slowly. Instead, their sex was hot, messy, even a little awkward at times when they moved out of sync, but no less satisfying. They even ignored the fact that the twins returned home earlier than expected, since they were both too far gone to stop, and just tried to muffle their moans and groans as best as they could.
“That was brilliant,” Scott said with a satisfied grin once their breaths calmed down a little. “We need to do it more often.”
He couldn’t help it, he snorted. “I think it would get very cliche then, with me being the older man trying to match his younger lover’s raging libido and satisfy his sexual apetites.”
“I don’t know, your libido seemed perfectly fine to me…” Scott wriggled his brow suggestively, before his expression turned serious. “But seriously, don’t let me talk you into having sex if it’s not something that you want. You mean so much more to me than that.”
Looking into his lover’s earnest, concerned face, he couldn’t help but repeat what he’d thought earlier: that he was a very lucky man indeed.
“Scott, I enjoyed every second of it, and I would have liked to last longer than I did, but I simply wanted you too much. You don’t need to worry about me not reciprocating your desire, because that’s not going to happen, ever.”
In response, Scott snuggled up to him and - despite the fact that they were both drenched in sweat - kissed his chest softly. The sweetness of it took Deucalion’s breath away for a moment, and he leaned down to place a kiss on Scott’s damp forehead in return.
The silence that followed felt as if it wasn’t a silence at all. They linked their hands, fingers intertwined and thumbs caressing the other in a language that didn’t need words to be understood.
***
He would've liked to enjoy their afterglow even longer, but all too soon he became aware of a nagging sensation in the back of his mind, a strangely mute disquiet, the source of which was his pack bond with the twins.
He groaned and stood up. "It's the boys, I'll check up on them," he explained, seeing Scott's questioning look.
"Do you want me to go with you?"
"No need, it's probably nothing. I'll be back with you in a minute."
He put on his clothes quickly, though he didn't bother with socks, just put on his slippers and went to the living room where he could hear the boys' heartbeats. What he saw there made his heart clench painfully: Ethan was curled on the coach, trying to appear as small as possible, while Aiden was rubbing his back gently.
"What's wrong? Did something happen while you were out?" He asked, feeling a sudden surge of worry and anger. If someone hurt Ethan-
"No, that's not it. It's just, you and Scott were doing- you know, and the sound of it..."
"It brought back memories," Aiden finished Ethan’s sentence.
Oh.
He didn't need to be told what memories, he knew exactly what Aiden meant. Even if he hadn't witnessed it himself, their first meeting spoke volumes about just what had been going on in their first pack, and even the recollection of it made him feel both furious and sad that he hadn’t met them soon enough to prevent it.
Flashback
"I know that you pick only the strongest Alphas for your pack, so I want to join you."
In response, Deucalion sneers at the werewolf standing before him, a sorry excuse of an Alpha who thinks that he's achieved something in life by killing his predecessor, but is just as weak as the rest of them.
"I'm not interested,” he says as he starts to turn away.
"Wait, I can pay my way in.”
"You have nothing that I could either want or need," he grumbles dismissively, toying with the idea of simply killing the idiot right here and there.
"I’ve heard that you like fucking boys, so I can give you two of my pack's bitches to do as you like with them."
With his wolf-sight he sees the man's gesture to his lackeys who push two young Betas forward. Judging by the boys' scent, full of shock and terror, they weren't told about this, much less agreed to be subjects of such a trade.
"The pack's bitches, you say?" he hums thoughtfully. "Leave them with me for the night, and if they satisfy me well enough, I'll consider your request. I don't guarantee to return them in one piece, though, if at all."
This is just a pose, an act, since he wants to see if there's even a shred of conscience in this disgusting piece of shit. He might be a killer and a predator, but the mere idea of raping anyone is enough to leave a bad taste in his mouth.
However, the man just leers and leaves the two Betas alone with Deucalion. They're standing ramrod straight, with their shoulders tense and alert, but he could see that one of the boys is shaking badly, so he takes a step in his direction.
"Leave my brother alone, or I'll gut you!" the other Beta growls, flashing his golden eyes at him and extending his claws in a flash.
He tsks with disapproval. "I can appreciate the sentiment of defending one's sibling, but speak like that to me ever again, and I'll rip out your tongue. Now, be quiet."
He circles the shaking boy slowly, unhurriedly, appraising his body language carefully, though he suspects that for a casual onlooker it might look like he stares at him with lust. He's not. After Marco, he swore to himself not to have sex with another werewolf ever again.
There is a certain potential in both of them, he muses absentmindedly as he finishes the appraisal and stands in front of the two Betas once again, since they certainly have more character in them than their excuse of an Alpha ever will. Which gives him an idea...
"I wonder, why do you let that idiot degrade and humiliate you so? Why haven't you fought back?"
Apparently sensing that he's not in any immediate danger, the boy stops shaking, and Deucalion feels strangely approving, which surprises him.
"Um, he's got a whole pack behind him, and he's an Alpha, he's stronger than us."
"I'm not saying that you should challenge him into a fair fight, only that you need to kill him, by whatever means necessary," he explains, then adds softly: "We have the whole night, I can train you both and show you some mean tricks, if you'd like."
"And why would you do that?" The other boy asks suspiciously.
"Boredom, I suppose," he shrugs. "Some self-interest too, since the both of you would be much better candidates for my Alpha Pack. But as long as you're Betas, you don't qualify, so you both would need to kill an Alpha and take their powers before joining my pack. However, if you prefer to remain bitches your entire life, then who am I to judge?"
The last sentence is a lie, though. He honestly hopes that they find the courage in them to kill their current Alpha, and he feels something akin to pride when they ask to be shown how to fight.
The day after, when they show up again, battered, covered in blood, but with gleaming red eyes, he’s fairly sure that what he feels is, in fact, pride.
Notes:
I always wondered why Deucalion's approach of having the Alphas killing their own Betas changed when it came to the twins, who weren't Alphas at first. This is my idea how they first meeting might have went.
Chapter 157
Notes:
Warning: mention of a past rape. Only mention, nothing graphic.
Chapter Text
When Deucalion left the room to check on the twins, Scott smiled proudly. His lover maybe wasn't the most doting Alpha in the world, but he did care for his pack, and had always been extra protective of the twins, even if he didn't show it often. And even that seemed to be changing lately, with Deucalion trying to be more open with his feelings, despite the fact that it didn't come to him as naturally as it did to Scott.
In a way the fact that both of them were leaders of their respective packs made their relationship similar to being together while having children from previous marriages. He was glad that the twins didn't seem to mind his presence, maybe even liked him; he didn't want to imagine how much harder being a couple would be if their packs disapproved of it.
He took a quick shower and when he got back to the bedroom and Deucalion still wasn't there, he decided to check what was going on. Seeing the man speaking quietly to Ethan and Aiden, he hesitated for a moment, since he didn't want to intrude on what seemed like a private conversation. He took a step back, but then Deucalion looked up and gestured at him to join them.
"Hi," He said quietly as he sat on the couch. Seeing Ethan’s hunched back, he instinctively put an arm around his shoulders, and was surprised when he saw the boy flinch. He started to put his arm back, when Ethan shook his head and clutched at him desperately. "Alright, I'm starting to seriously worry now. Can someone please tell me what's going on?"
"What do you know about our past? Did we - I mean, our counterparts - tell you anything about our previous pack?"
He considered Aiden's question for a moment. "Besides the fact that it had been awful, nothing specific. The other you were quite tight-lipped about it."
"We - they - were probably too ashamed of it," Aiden said grimly. "It wasn't nearly half as bad for me as it was for Ethan. The moment he started to show being attracted to men, our previous Alpha decided that he was a free game, up for grabs. By all guys in the pack."
Scott stared at him, horrified. Suddenly, his control slipped, and he could feel his fangs lengthening. "Please tell me that those fucking monsters are dead, each and every one of them, that you didn’t leave anyone alive," he growled.
"We didn't. It was Deucalion who inspired us to fight back, actually. But I can't help but think, if only we had the courage to do that earlier, if only I wasn't such a coward-"
"Listen to me, both of you, it wasn't your fault, none of it," Deucalion said sternly. "They were your pack, they were supposed to protect you, not abuse you. And Aiden, I know that you did your best, that you tried to protect your brother as best as you could."
Scott finally managed to get himself under control, and looked at Ethan who was avoiding everyone's eyes. Gently, he put a finger under the boy's chin and propped his head up, until their eyes met. The deep, devastating pain and shame he saw there was like a punch to his stomach, because he remembered feeling like that too, once.
"Hey, it's over, they can't hurt you ever again."
"Then why can't I put it all behind me and just… be normal again, dating and having sex like other guys? I want to, but I just- can't. So how do I fix myself?" Ethan asked brokenly.
He rubbed the boy's back gently. "Slowly, taking one step at a time. These things don't happen overnight, but trust me, you'll get there."
"How can you be so sure? Because Ethan that you knew managed to do it?"
He exhaled slowly. "No, because I went through something similar myself." Beside him, he felt Deucalion stiffening, and he took his hand, squeezing gently, while not taking his eyes off Ethan. "It happened in the first year of the war, when hunters were more interested in causing terror and making us miserable in every way possible, rather than the total extermination they switched to later. I was abducted, and even though my pack managed to find me, the hunters had already had the chance to- well, have their fun with me," his throat clenched suddenly, and he had to take a couple of calming breaths.
Reliving these memories wasn't easy, but he wanted the twins to know that no matter how awful such experiences were, with enough time and patience, it was possible to overcome them.
"Oh my God, Scott, I didn't know-" Deucalion choked out, and Scott turned to look at him.
"It changes nothing, alright? For me, it was years ago, and while I'll never be able to forget it, I'm not going to let one horrible experience dictate my whole life. I love you, and I enjoy having sex with you, you know that. I don't want you to suddenly start walking on eggshells around me."
Deucalion nodded, though his stiff shoulders told Scott that they would need to talk about it later, when they were alone.
"How did you manage to get better?" Ethan asked timidly.
"Thanks to my friends. You know that the other Stiles had been possessed by the Nogitsune, right? Well, possession isn't that much different from rape, it's too about having your body used by someone else without you having any control over it. Stiles helped me a lot during the first few weeks when I couldn't stand to be touched. And later, when I got better to the point I wanted to resume having a normal sex life, it was Cerberus who helped me with that."
"You mean your Hellhound, the same one who is also in this timeline with all his memories intact?" Deucalion asked darkly.
Scott couldn't help it, he smiled at seeing his glower. "Jealousy is unbecoming of you, love. Yes, my Hellhound. Please remember that having a human body is not a natural state for him, so when he and Jordan ceased to fight over control and accepted one another, for the first time ever he started to have human urges and desires in a body that felt alien and unfamiliar to him. It was he who gave me advice on how to reconnect with my body, to feel comfortable with it again."
"Will you tell me how? I mean, not now, but- later, maybe?" Ethan looked at him hopefully.
He nodded. "Sure, just tell me when you're ready."
In response, Ethan hugged him tightly around the waist, and he returned the embrace, running his hand through the boy's hair affectionately. In the corner of his eye he saw Aiden leaning tentatively against Deucalion, who put his arm around his back, patting it a little awkwardly, but with honest care.
Surrounded by the people he loved, Scott closed his eyes and just... let himself be.
***
Hearing that his lover had been hurt in the most intimate way possible made Deucalion's blood boil, and he struggled to keep his calm. Why do these things always happen to people who least deserve it? Scott was the kindest, most forgiving person he knew, what kind of a monster would be so heartless to-
He almost choked, overwhelmed by a desperate, helpless rage which didn’t have any outlet, since he had no way to punish the people responsible for hurting his lover. And even if he could, it would change nothing, it wouldn't erase Scott's pain and trauma… Rarely in his life did he feel so weak, so bloody powerless.
When the twins went to their room, he looked at Scott, marveling at the young man's resilience, and wished he was half as strong. Gerard's and Marco's betrayals had changed him into the worst version of himself, while Scott's experiences had made him into an Alpha he was now, caring and protective, but also strong and self-confident. But he could tell that underneath all that Scott was hiding old scars, healed perhaps, but they were there.
“If being intimate made you uncomfortable, you would tell me, wouldn’t you?”
If having sex was hurting or upsetting his lover in any way… It didn't seem that way, but he'd rather ask than just assume.
“Of course, but I really enjoy it when you're making love to me. You don’t have to treat me differently now that you know, unless… Unless it disgusts you, knowing that I've been-” Scott's voice broke.
He cupped his lover’s face, drinking in the sight of it, uneven jaw and all, remembering the very first time he saw it: when his eyesight had been restored. But it wasn't only blindness that he'd been cured of that day, but it also felt as if by healing his body, Scott had also healed his soul.
"You could never disgust me," he said and pulled Scott into a gentle kiss, trying to convey all his feelings: gratefulness, admiration, desire, trust... Love.
***
Later that evening Deucalion offered to walk him home, and Scott immediately agreed, because it meant more time spent together, even if it was only half an hour or so.
They walked in silence, their hands linked together loosely. From time to time, Deucalion's thumb made gentle circles on his skin, and the caress made him feel all tingly inside. He felt drunk on that feeling, and so light that if it wasn't for Deucalion holding his hand, he would surely float above the ground.
When they reached the house, he put his arms around his lover's waist, not quite ready to say goodbye to him just yet. "I wish we could stay like this forever," he said wistfully.
"I assure you, you're not the only one feeling that way," Deucalion murmured into his ear, the warm breath making him shiver. His skin suddenly felt over-sensitive, his body throbbing with need, begging to be touched.
"Kiss me," he said breathlessly.
Not one to be asked twice, Deucalion immediately drew him into an open-mouthed kiss, the man's tongue doing wonderful things to his mouth. He felt hot hands sneaking underneath his t-shirt and caressing his skin, and he moaned, it felt so good, so right.
Suddenly, they heard a car's door slamming loudly, and they jumped, startled.
"Take your hands off my son, you pervert!"
He looked up, surprised to see Rafael walking quickly in their direction.
"Dad, it's not what you-" He didn't get to finish his sentence, as Rafael pushed him away roughly, then slammed his fist straight into Deucalion's face.
Even though a human punch wasn't strong enough to seriously hurt a werewolf, it didn't change the fact that when Scott witnessed his lover being hit, he instantly saw red. He grabbed Rafael by his clothes and threw him away with a force that caused the man to stumble and fall to the ground.
"Hit him once again, and I'll make you regret it," he growled, then turned to his lover. "Are you alright?"
"Don't worry, I'm fine. And I thought that meeting your mother was hard..." Deucalion commented wryly, rubbing his jaw.
Rafael gaped at him, speechless. "Wait, Melissa knows? And she didn't stop this?" He stood up, dusting off his trousers. "Are you even aware that Scott's sixteen? If he told you that he's eighteen, that's a lie, so now that you know his age, you can't claim not being aware. I'd suggest that you fuck off and not show your face here ever again, unless you want to be charged with statutory rape."
It took all Scott's self-control not to scream at Rafael. Instead, he glared at him and said: "We're not having this conversation here, in the open. Get inside, now."
Rafael had another thing coming if he thought that he could just barge into his life and destroy his relationship out of misguided desire to protect him. He didn't want to be forced to choose between his lover and his father, but if things came to that… He'd choose Deucalion, always.
Chapter Text
Who the fuck was that man, Rafael wondered. And if Melissa had known about the guy for a while now, why hadn't she done anything to put a stop to it? It was her damn duty as a parent to make sure that their son wasn't taken advantage of. He had to admit that Scott had had a point, though, that making a scene in the middle of the street wasn't the best idea. He went inside, never taking his eyes off the man who had been pawing Scott just a moment ago, to make sure that he would keep his hands to himself.
Seeing all of them together, Melissa raised her eyebrow. "This... doesn’t look good."
"You think?" He asked sarcastically. "I was just parking my car nearby when I saw Scott being pawed by this guy, and then I learned that you knew about him, and did nothing!"
"To be perfectly candid, by doing nothing she almost managed to put me in a wheelchair," the man commented wryly.
"I'm not going to apologize for that," Melissa crossed her arms stubbornly.
"I don't expect you to. Besides, things worked out in the end, didn't they?"
Rafael wanted to wipe that satisfied smirk off the man's face, but suppressed the urge for the time being. "I don't know what your story is, and frankly speaking, I don't care. What I want to know is why you were getting handsy with my sixteen year old son," he said through gritted teeth, "and why no one here seems to care that you're more than twice his age!"
The man had the gall to ignore him and looked at Scott instead. "He doesn’t know about you, does he?"
"No, and I'm not sure if I want him to," Scott replied, then turned to Rafael. "I don't see how this is your business, dad. You've wiped your hands off me a long time ago, so don't pretend that you’ve suddenly started to care."
That accusation struck him hard. "Of course I care, I'm your father!" He protested.
"Oh, really? Because there was always something more important than me, first it was alcohol, then your own damn pride which stopped you from coming back home admitting that you screwed up, and finally there was your job which was so bloody important that you even forgot about my birthdays, three years in a row. So excuse me if I don't buy into the whole 'I'm your father' speech."
His shoulders stiffened. "This- What this guy's doing to you, it's worse than me forgetting to call on your birthdays, for Christ' sake! At least tell me that you didn't let him do anything beyond kissing-" Seeing Scott's face, which even after all these years was still like an opened book, he cursed. "That's it, I'm calling the police, and I'm going to make sure that the fucker gets maximum sentence."
"Dad, don’t call him names. Besides, Deucalion didn't do anything without my express consent," Scott argued.
"You're not old enough to give your consent, you're just a kid who doesn't get to make such decisions. And even if you think you're so damn mature that rules don't apply to you, guess what, they do!"
He took out his phone, when Scott grabbed his wrist in a vice-like grip.
"Put the phone away."
"Listen, this is for your own good. One day you'll thank me-
"Put the phone away or I'll tell the police that it was you who molested me when I was a kid, and now you're obsessed with all the men I meet out of jealousy," Scott said darkly.
Wait, what…?
"Scott, is that true?" Melissa asked quietly.
Rafael snorted. "Of course not, it’s ridiculous-"
Melissa glared at him, her eyes blazing. "I'm not asking you, I'm asking my son."
Scott shrugged. "Did dad do it? No. But if he even so much as tries to take Deucalion away from me, this is what I'm going to tell everyone, the police, the press..."
He stared at his son in disbelief. "You would destroy my life for some guy you barely know?"
"I would protect the man I love, because my father, who barely knows me, thinks he can just barge into my life and ruin it," Scott retorted coldly, then leaned in, looking him straight in the eye. "So if you think that you can put my lover behind bars, be prepared for the same."
Rafael looked at him in shock. "You can't mean it."
Scott scoffed. "You have no idea what I would do, the lengths I'd go to, to keep my loved ones safe. Maybe if I was a vulnerable, impressionable kid, I would need you to protect me, but I don't. So while I appreciate the sentiment, I'll say it only once: leave me and Deucalion be, or you're going to regret it."
He swallowed with difficulty, not knowing what to say or do. Never in his worst nightmares had he imagined that he would be threatened by his own son. And the worst thing was that Scott seemed deadly serious, and he knew without a doubt that it wasn't a bluff.
The man - Deucalion, and what kind of a name was that? - put a hand on Scott's shoulder. "While I'm thankful for your defence of me, I don't want you to be forced to choose between me and your father."
"If he doesn’t push the issue, then I won't have to." After a moment of hesitation, Scott turned to him. "Listen dad, I'd rather not go down that route, but I will if you force my hand. So please, just… don't."
Rafael started to pace nervously, trying not to let it show how much the whole situation unsettled him. His son was nothing like he'd imagined, and was completely right in saying that they didn't know each other, at all. This wasn't a shy, timid kid standing before him, and for all he knew, that boy was gone forever... But if that was the case, then trying to preserve his son's innocence was futile, and apparently, also wholly unappreciated.
"So, I should just turn a blind eye to this... sordid affair of yours?" He asked incredulously.
"It's not an affair, and it's not sordid," Scott huffed, affronted. "If you actually took the time to observe us, see how we're acting around each other, you'd know that."
He gritted his teeth, then turned to his ex-wife. "Melissa, talk some sense into him!"
She sighed. "Look, Raf, I don't like it either, but I'm not going to risk losing my son's trust by trying to break them up. If Scott’s happy, and I can tell that he is, then there's nothing I can do besides letting him know that I'm here for him if he needs me."
"Thanks mom, you're the best," Scott drew her into a bear hug, and Rafael could only watch them with envy.
How's that even when he tries to do the right thing, the sensible thing, he still ends up being the bad guy who everyone hates?
"So you're saying that I should get to know this guy? I think that the mere fact that he seduced a minor is telling enough…" He said dubiously, glaring at the man who bore it with total indifference.
"Surely you've noticed that Scott's much more mature than his physical age would suggest. If he was acting like a typical teenager, I wouldn't have been attracted to him in the first place. Besides, I'm not forcing Scott into anything," Deucalion added. "This is a fully consensual relationship, and though I understand that as a parent you might have concerns, I'm not breaking up with Scott unless it's his wish."
Rafael clenched his jaw, then exhaled slowly. "Alright, let's talk, then. I want to know everything, how the two of you met and when things progressed to this- this thing you call a relationship. "
He would be damned if he pretended that this was normal when it was anything but. Still, it might be worth it to listen to the full story, so he sat down on a chair and looked at everyone expectantly.
“Um, where to start…” Scott said uncertainly once everyone was seated.
“I first saw Scott in the hospital,” Deucalion explained, instead. “Scott was there after the attack on the Dunbars. My leg and arm were broken and my fever was running high, so I probably made a distressed sound and Scott went into my room to check it. I looked like a mess, it's a wonder that I didn’t scare him off.”
Scott smiled back at him. “My mouth was covered in blood after my nose-bleed, but you didn’t mind it either.”
They took each other’s hands and Rafael had to hide his distaste at seeing them acting so lovey-dovey.
He cleared his throat impatiently. “What happened then?”
“We started talking, exchanged numbers, and that was it. I returned to the Dunbars, while the twins took Deucalion home once he felt better,” Scott explained.
He frowned. “Wait, what twins? The guy has kids?”
Deucalion shook his head. “They’re not my kids. The better term would be ‘wards’ since I’m their guardian.”
“What age are they?” He pressed.
“They’re Scott’s age, more or less,” the man said noncommittally. “It doesn’t stop them from adoring Scott, though. Suddenly I found myself not being their favorite parent anymore.”
Rafael stared at him, not believing in what he was hearing. This man had two kids Scott’s age - it didn’t matter if they were his biological children or not - and he didn’t see anything wrong in seducing a sixteen year old boy? This was wrong, on so many levels, that he was speechless for a moment.
“You know what, I’m done here. I don’t think I need to hear anything else.” He stood up abruptly.
Scott’s face hardened. “Is that it? You’re just going to leave without giving Deucalion a chance?”
“I’m sick of watching you two acting like lovebirds, but since your mother approves, and you’ve threatened me into silence, then there’s nothing I can do beside walking away, is it?” He asked bitterly, and left without waiting for a reply.
As he stormed away, he tried not to feel like he’d just taken some kind of a test, and failed it.
Chapter 159
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Jackson took a deep breath. He was a werewolf now, damn it, he could handle a conversation with his own father… And it didn't matter that he had yet to experience his first full moon, he had an Alpha now, and that was enough. Worst case scenario, Scott would do the mind-alteration trick on his parents so that Jackson could stay in Beacon Hills with his pack, where he belonged. So there was no reason to be nervous, right?
Straightening his back, he raised a slightly shaking fist and knocked on the door to his father's study.
"Come in."
Another deep breath and he pulled the handle, pushed the door and went inside. His father grimaced, seeing him.
"If you wanted to ask to be allowed to stay with your mother in Pittsburgh, you can save it, it's a 'no'. That woman can barely take care of herself, much less of an adolescent boy."
"Actually, I wanted to ask if I could stay in Beacon Hills," he managed to say without stuttering. "I don't want to move and go to another school. Besides, all my friends are here."
"That's out of the question, boy."
"But, why? We both know that I'm not the son you wanted, and I'm only going to be a burden, dragging you down when you have a real chance to build yourself a new life in London," he said bluntly, hiding a pang of pain he felt at his own words. "Why do you really want me to go with you?"
"Isn't it obvious? I took you in, and no matter how much of a disappointment you've turned out to be, I have an obligation to make sure you're properly taken care of, at least until you're of age."
Jackson curled his hands into fists, but other than that, he somehow managed to keep his temper in check. "But there are people here who would agree to take me in."
"What people?" His father asked skeptically.
He almost mentioned Scott, until he remembered that to the whole world, his Alpha was still a teenager. Would Mrs McCall agree to take him in? He hoped so, she had adopted Isaac, after all, so maybe she wouldn’t mind having another teenage boy under her care.
"My friend's mother, Melissa McCall. She's a nurse at the hospital."
"A nurse?" His father snorted with disdain. "What about her husband? I need to ensure that you have a proper father-figure, boy, someone who would be a good example of what it means to be a man, not some slowcoach or a drunkard."
"Um, she's divorced-"
"Out of question, then. Anyone else?" His father looked at him expectantly.
He thought quickly who else wouldn't mind taking him in. Damn, why couldn't he be of age already and take care of himself?
"Chris Argent, then," he blurted. "He has a daughter my age, and he's a licensed arms dealer."
That finally got his father's attention, as he hummed thoughtfully. "Arms dealer, you say?"
Jackson nodded, mentally crossing his fingers.
"Fine, but I would need to talk with the man first," his father relented.
"Um, sure, I'll ask Mr Argent to contact you."
His father pointed a finger at him. "But if you're gonna stay in Beacon Hills, I'm not paying for anything besides the barest necessities, like school-related expenses, is that understood? So you better check first with this man if he's ready to cover everything else."
"I will, thank you father," he murmured dutifully before he left the study.
Once the door closed behind him, he slid down the wall, his knees shaking so badly he could barely stand on his own. But he'd done it! He'd managed to talk with his father without angering him and getting punished. And even better, he could stay in Beacon Hills… if Mr Argent would agree to take him in, which wasn’t so obvious since they hadn’t discussed it before.
However, he remembered that when he’d first revealed his wish to become a werewolf, it was Mr Argent who had been concerned the most and asked him if he was sure about it, since it couldn’t be undone. Even though they didn’t know each other much, surely the man must care about him just the tiniest bit, right? He could only hope that it would be enough to convince the man to become his guardian, temporarily at least.
***
Returning to Beacon Hills felt like coming home to Chris, and after years of moving from town to town like some kind of a nomad, it was definitely a welcome change. He texted Allison, Scott, Melissa and Peter that he was on his way back from the LA airport, and got a bunch of enthusiastic replies which instantly warmed his heart. It was a good feeling, to know that he's been missed.
He'd missed them, too.
Btw, we’re throwing you a surprise ‘welcome back’ party which - if anyone asks - I didn’t tell you about. Scott texted him after a moment.
He laughed as he texted back: How did you know that I hate surprises?
One time when I managed to sneak up on the other Chris, I almost got a bullet in the head. Rule no 1: don’t sneak up on people with guns who can shoot you out of a reflex. So, just pretend to be surprised, alright?
Chris was probably grinning like a loon all the way to Beacon Hills, but he didn’t care. He was coming home, to his family, and everything that had happened in Argenteuil paled in comparison to that.
***
He didn’t know if he managed to fake a complete surprise, but he tried his best. As soon as he entered, he was hugged, kissed, and patted on the shoulder (or various combinations of those) by his family, and by the end of it all he was red in the face because of all the attention he was getting, but smiling nevertheless.
And then, there was a cake - two, actually. One was a gin and tonic lime cake for adults only, and the second was chocolate Oreo cake for the kids (which the adults stole bits of as well, because who doesn’t like Oreos?).
"So, how was France, dad?" Allison asked between one bite and another. "How did your meeting with grandma and grandpa go?"
"Not entirely terrible, but not well either. On a positive note, no one got hurt, though Kate did draw a gun on me, but thankfully Aunt Brigitte quickly put an end to it."
Allison gasped, so he patted her hand calmingly.
"If that was the positive note, I'm dreading to hear what is the negative," Peter drawled.
He grimaced, there was no way to soften this blow. "I've been cast out from the family, permanently."
Melissa covered her mouth with her hand, horrified. "What?! How could they- They're your family, they should support you!"
"Don't worry, you don't need them, and you'll be better off without them," Peter grasped his arm and squeezed it.
"But I have no ties to the Argents now, including the family fortune," he explained. "I’ve got full control of the arms dealing company, but besides that, not much else, so my grand plans of buying a huge house for all of us would need to wait until I manage to sell a couple of properties first."
"Or we could buy a house together and split the cost in half," Peter offered. "Alternatively, I could buy it all by myself, but I don't think you'd appreciate being a kept man, so-"
Isaac choked on a piece of cake he was munching on, while Scott snorted. "Peter, I love you, I truly do, but please keep your fantasies to yourself," he commented wryly.
Peter just shrugged unapologetically.
"I'd feel more comfortable if we split the expenses in half," Chris admitted. "And one more thing… I need to change my last name, to show that I'm no longer an Argent. Would you or Melissa mind if I took either of yours?" He asked tentatively, since they'd been dating relatively shortly, and he was fully aware that what he was asking for was quite big. Maybe not as huge as marriage, but still, taking one's last name was rather serious.
He shouldn't have worried, though, since Peter grinned with delight. "Sure, Chris Hale has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? And believe me, you don't want to be called McCall, I recently met Scott's father, he's an arrogant, conceited prick, you don’t want to share a name with the likes of him."
"Wait, your ex-husband is in town?" Chris turned to Melissa, surprised.
Honestly, he didn’t know how he should feel about that. It didn’t seem like Melissa had any feelings left for the man, but with first love, you could never know for sure.
"Unfortunately, yes. And he's already managed to make a fool out of himself, twice," she grimaced. "So while I wouldn't mind if you took my name, better not draw Rafael's attention that way. The sooner he's out of our hair, the better."
"Alright, Chris Hale it is, then," he exhaled, relieved. "Thanks, Peter, I really appreciate it. And by the way, I remember about my promise to help you get the papers for Malia. Do you want her to be named Malia Hale, or do you want me to put a different name on the papers, so that it would be harder to guess her previous identity?"
Peter rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I'll talk with her and get back to you, alright?"
He nodded with understanding. "Sure, just let me know once you’ve decided on something."
"Speaking of, I was thinking about introducing Malia, Liam and Boyd to everyone at our next meeting, it's high time they met the whole pack," Scott suggested while putting away his plate. "What do you think, Peter?"
"I'll think about it. Malia has been getting restless lately, so I don’t know if meeting a group of new people all at once would help, or make it worse."
"Spending one's time between four walls isn't good for anyone, much less a kid her age,'' Melissa rebuked him gently as she stood up to gather the plates from the table. "She needs friends and some space from her parents, just like any other teenager, or even more so."
Peter raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright, point taken. I'm not going to argue with you on parenting methods, since you're more of an expert than I am."
"Well, I did manage to raise Scott quite well, I'd say…" she pointed out.
In response, Peter pulled her into his lap, making her squeal with surprise, then kissed her square on the lips.
Chris felt a little envious, watching them, and Peter must have sensed it, as he stopped kissing Melissa and looked around the table.
"Alright kids, there's a second part of Chris' welcome-back party which is for adults only, so go scatter somewhere else,” he made a shooing motion with his hand.
"You're not throwing our children out of the house so that we could make out, are you?" Melissa asked, scandalized.
Scott chuckled. "It's fine, mom, you deserve a bit of privacy every once in a while. Besides, it's not like we don’t have a place to go, we're a pack, remember? Derek has three floors that are currently empty, so we could sleep there if need be. Have fun, all three of you."
Chris didn't know if he should be embarrassed or pleased by the comment, so he settled for silently mouthing 'thank you' to Scott who winked at him in response.
Notes:
I admit I don't like Oreos, but they have such a huge fan base it sometimes seems like I'm the only one in the world not liking them in the slightest, haha :D
Chapter 160
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
As usual, the pack meeting took place at Derek's, since the fifth floor with its single huge apartment rather than two flats per floor was the only place they could all fit without feeling crowded. Introducing new kids to the pack went surprisingly good, but not entirely as Scott had expected.
Seeing Liam, the twins immediately cooed out loud. "He's adorable, can we keep him?" Aiden asked, petting Liam's hair, and Ethan nodded eagerly.
"Whoa- stop it, I'm not a pet," Liam glared at the boys. They ignored his protests, so he desperately looked at Scott for help.
Seeing this, he chuckled. "Easy, boys, you don't want to scare my prospective Beta off, do you? And Liam, just ignore them, they might be Alphas but sometimes they act like overgrown puppies."
Liam gaped at him, surprised. "They're werewolves? And Alphas, both of them?"
"Yup. Maybe they don't look like it, but they're the real thing."
Hearing that, Liam looked at the twins curiously and they grinned, flashing their red eyes at him. After that, he didn't protest much when they pulled him to their place on one of the sofas and smothered him like he was a plush teddy bear.
Allison and Lydia, on the other hand, were ecstatic to have another girl in their midst, and made a space so that Malia could sit between them.
"So, you're living with uncle Peter?" Allison asked curiously. "I mean, with your dad?"
When Malia nodded, Lydia leaned in towards her. "You must tell us all the embarrassing details about him," she wiggled her eyebrows. "We haven't had decent gossip material in ages."
Peter, who was sitting nearby with his arm curled loosely around Melissa's waist, snorted out loud. "Oh please, I have nothing to be embarrassed of."
Sensing a challenge, Malia looked at him, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "Then you won't mind if I tell everyone that you like it when Scott bites you?"
Everyone's heads instantly snapped in their direction.
Peter's cheeks reddened for a second, before he shrugged. "What can I say? It's a werewolf thing."
"What kind of bites are we talking about?" Melissa asked with a frown.
"The usual, his fangs on my throat, nothing to get excited about," Peter said nonchalantly.
"Nothing- You're crazy," she shook her head, exasperated.
Seeing that the kids were listening to their conversation avidly, and Liam's eyes were getting wider and wider with each word, Scott decided to intervene. "Guys, like Peter said, it's a werewolf thing, but each bond is different, it's not like I bite everyone in the pack, so no worries."
That seemed to pacify most, but apparently, not everyone.
"Derek, please tell me that you don't have any 'werewolf thingy' with Scott too." Stiles demanded, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Boyd who up until now was silent, snorted out loud, and everyone looked at him, surprised.
"Sorry, I don't know if Scott told you this about me, but I can sense if someone's lying," he explained. "And that was a bold faced lie." Derek glared at him, but Boyd didn't look even remotely sorry, and met his glare impassively.
"What Scott and I do in private is just that, private," Derek crossed his arms defensively.
"Splendid. Anyone else wants to admit to having an intimate habit they indulge in with my lover?" Deucalion drawled.
"Does kneeling before Scott so that he can pet my hair count?" Jordan asked innocently.
Scott groaned and hid his flaming face in his hands for a moment. When he looked up cautiously, Deucalion had an inscrutable expression on his face.
"Scott, a word please."
As soon as they left the apartment and the door closed behind them, Deucalion pushed him against the wall, pressing their bodies close, and kissed him possessively.
"If you want me to get on my knees or bare my throat to you, I will, in an instant," the man licked the sensitive spot behind his ear, sending pleasant shivers down Scott's spine. "You don't need to seek pleasure with others, I'll give you everything you could ever want."
Despite the bold words, Scott could sense his lover’s insecurity, so he caressed Deucalion's cheeks with his thumbs. "All the relationships with my packmates are completely platonic, I promise. You don't have to worry about that," he assured, then placed a gentle kiss on Deucalion's lips. "I want no one else but you."
"Even the Hellhound?"
"Yes, even Jordan," he said with a soft laugh. "You don't need to be jealous of him or anyone else, love."
Deucalion exhaled slowly, steadily, the self-doubt slowly disappearing from his eyes, but not entirely, so Scott once again covered the man's lips with his. This time he deepened the kiss, though, sucking and licking every part of Deucalion's mouth, as if trying to erase every bit of the man's insecurity that might have still lingered.
Judging by the breathy moans he heard in response, the tactic worked perfectly.
***
When they came back to the apartment, their lips were slightly swollen, not to mention the telling flush on Deucalion's cheeks.
"How did it go, did you kiss and make up?" Isaac asked cheekily.
"Not that it's anyone's business, but yes, that's exactly what we did," Deucalion said with a satisfied smile. "And a small reminder, Scott's mine, so I kindly ask everyone to keep their hands and paws to themselves."
Scott rolled his eyes, but couldn't hide a smile at seeing his lover acting so possessively.
"Wait, Scott, isn't the guy too old for you?" Boyd asked, confused.
Oh. He'd forgotten that the newest members of the pack weren't aware that he had travelled to the past, which means that in their eyes, a forty year old man just snogged their very much teenage friend.
He cleared his throat. "Guys, it's not what you think, I'm not really sixteen years old. I mean physically, sure, but in truth I'm almost thirty, because… well, this is my second life and I remember everything that had happened back in the previous timeline."
He looked at his new packmates with apprehension, trying to gauge their reactions. Malia just looked confused, and he probably would need to explain it to her more plainly afterwards. She wasn't stupid, far from it, but he knew that she was a really straightforward type of girl who preferred blunt communication over subtleties. Liam had an excited gleam in his eyes which meant that he sensed an adventure, and that usually spelled trouble for everyone around him, while Boyd… It was really hard to tell.
"Boyd, you alright there, bud?"
"If I got your point, then I'm not really your 'bud', am I?" The boy crossed his arms stubbornly.
"Hey, I'm really the same guy who befriended you, nothing has changed. It's just that when I reached out to you, you weren't exactly a stranger to me, I knew the other you from my past," he explained. "I'm sorry that I didn’t tell you sooner, but I needed to make sure that you wouldn't-"
"What, freak out? Call you a liar? Think that you're crazy?" Boyd asked challengingly.
"Yeah."
"Then you didn't really know me at all."
Scott looked away for a moment, remembering Boyd's death from his first life. "You're right, I didn't. And you'll know why once you've read my memories from that timeline."
He had a long list of regrets from his first life, and never truly getting to know him was one of them. The other Boyd had never opened himself up to anyone, and kept others at arm's length until it was too late. It was a terrible waste of life which could have been avoided, should have been avoided. It had served no one, since in the end Deucalion who had orchestrated it in the first place, hadn't benefited from it as he had planned.
He turned to Derek. "Do you have a copy of my memoirs in your loft?"
His Beta nodded and went to fetch it, then when he got back he handed the sheaf of papers to Boyd. When the teen was reading, Liam whispered something into Aiden's ear, then stood up and joined Scott on the sofa.
"Will you let me read it too?" The boy looked at him with puppy eyes.
"If you want to, yes. But that story doesn’t have a happy ending, and I don't want you to get scared by reading about everything that went downhill back then," he warned.
"But you’re fixing things now, right?"
"Yeah, at least that's the plan."
He couldn't bear the thought of losing everyone again, but he needed to be realistic, even despite his knowledge of the previous life, he might still lose someone.
Boyd probably finished reading the Alpha Pack part of the story, as he looked up with a frown.
"Wait, so this dude," he pointed at Derek, "was forced to kill me, because the guy that is now your boyfriend, manipulated them," he pointed at the twins, "into avenging a werewolf whose death he himself was responsible for? Did I get this right?"
Well, when put like that, it didn't sound all that good...
"In a nutshell, yes," he admitted. "My first life was really messed up, and the conflict with the Alpha Pack had been the most pointless and unnecessary of them all. But that's exactly the reason why it was on top of my list of things to change this time around."
"Did it work?"
"We're all here, aren't we?" Derek asked pointedly.
"Scott brought us all together, because he believed that there was good in us long before we believed it too," Deucalion added. "He trusted me, when no one sane would have dared to. And it paid off, because now I can't stand the thought of disappointing him."
"So he won you over by what, being kind?" Boyd asked skeptically.
"Wasn't it the same with you?"
The teen snorted. "Point taken."
"So to sum it up, you've just joined a group of might-have-been murderers and redeemed villains," Isaac teased.
"Works for me," Boyd deadpanned, and Scott exhaled in relief.
"So, we're good?"
"Sure, bud," Boyd smirked at him, so Scott hit him with a decorative pillow from his sofa, and before they knew it, it escalated into a pack-wide pillow fight. Scott didn't complain, even when Liam joined forces with the twins and the three of them managed to topple him onto the floor, it was more than worth it.
***
Later, when the pillows (or what was left of them) were put back on the sofas where they belonged, Scott cleared his throat. "About fixing things… We still have a major fix ahead of us."
"The Nemeton," Lydia said knowingly.
"Yes, the less it stays under the Nogitsune's foul influence, the better, so it's high time we did something about it. We have the Triskelion Urn to imprison it, so hopefully everything will go smoothly."
"Famous last words," Stiles commented wryly. "And what do you plan to do if it manages to possess anyone?"
"It's probably still asleep, but even if it's awake, I'll only take werewolves with me, since the fox spirit doesn't like to be in close proximity with a wolf, much less to share a body with it."
At least, that’s what he hoped for. At the height of its power the Nogitsune could possess literally everyone, but after being dormant for so long and without the surrogate sacrifice to power it up, it probably wasn't strong enough to possess a werewolf.
"So I'm going with you too?" Jackson asked hopefully, but he shook his head.
"I'd rather you stayed home, you're freshly turned and might still be vulnerable."
Jackson started to protest, but one sharp look from Scott caused him to drop the rebellious look, and he nodded meekly. "Yes, Alpha."
He nodded with approval at the boy, then turned to everyone. "Alright, so that leaves me, Peter, Derek, Jordan, Deucalion and the twins as the Nogitsune-retrieval team. Let's meet here tomorrow and regroup."
"Wait, why does Jordan get to come?" Jackson pouted. "He's not a werewolf."
The Hellhound grinned. "It's always good to have a policeman with you, people are less likely to ask questions. Besides, I'm already possessed, so if the Nogitsune tries to join the party, it'll get a nasty surprise," he smirked viciously.
Notes:
I'd like to see Nogitsune try to possess a Hellhound, haha :D
Chapter Text
If Scott thought that Rafael would leave him be, he had another thing coming. Rafael might never win dad of the year award, but he did care about his son, and part of that was making sure that he wasn't taken advantage of.
Even if Scott was totally brainwashed by his so-called lover.
Even if Melissa didn't have what it takes to put a stop to this travesty of a relationship.
None of that mattered to him, because he would rather Scott hated him than allow that Deucalion guy to keep molesting him. Besides, Rafael was used to being hated by his family, it wouldn't be anything new, but for once in his life he wanted to do right by his son, even if no one would thank him for it.
That's why he decided to start a private investigation to find some dirt on Deucalion that would allow him to sic the police on him without having to resort to reporting the guy's relationship with Scott. Besides, he knew this kind of men who lusted after teenage boys, and they almost always acted in a repetitive pattern, so Scott probably wasn't his first victim. Hopefully, he will be the last, though.
Remembering the tale of how the two of them had met, the first thing he did was to pick a shift when Melissa wasn't working and request Deucalion's medical documentation from the hospital. Even though he didn't know the man's last name, the nurse was able to find the docs without any problems as the guy had been the only Deucalion ever admitted to the Beacon Hills hospital.
So Rafael had gotten the docs, but the problem was, the more he read, the more he was baffled by all the inconsistencies in the man's tale. While the dates matched exactly, according to the docs, Deucalion Emery had been in a very bad shape when he'd left the hospital at his own request. The doctor's diagnosis was an autoimmune disease of an unknown origin which had caused the man's wounds to fester, and the predicted outcome was amputation. But even if the guy had somehow gotten better on his own, there was one detail that was much harder to explain.
According to the hospital, Deucalion Emery was completely blind.
He felt a foreboding shiver crawl down his spine. What if the guy who had Scott under his spell was using another man's identity? But in that case, what had happened to the true Deucalion? Was he aware of the identity theft he had become a victim of? Was he even alive?
Better not to draw hasty conclusions without double checking the facts first, he reminded himself. He looked up the name of Deucalion's attending physician, wanting to check it with him or her first, and frowned when he saw 'Dr David Geyer' typed under the diagnosis. Why did everyone seem to be connected, somehow? Was that a coincidence, or something more?...
Or maybe it was simply because Beacon Hills was a small town, he tried to convince himself. But even if that was the case, he needed to talk with Dr Geyer, the sooner the better. He called the man, asking for a meeting at his earliest convenience, not mentioning just yet that it wasn't regarding the attack. Dr Geyer didn't seem overjoyed by the prospect, but agreed easily enough since it was a Saturday and he had a day off.
Shortly after, Rafael received a text message from Mason.
'Agent McCall, I'm in Liam's flat and Scott just left the building in the company of several men. I also overheard Liam asking him to be careful. What's the plan?'
He tapped his chin thoughtfully.
'Tell Liam that you have to go home, then follow them if you can, but don't approach and don't get caught,' he texted back. 'I'm going to be at the Dunbars in half an hour, meet me afterwards and tell me what you've learned.'
'OK. Got to go.'
What are you up to, Scott? He thought to himself as he gathered his things and went to the car.
***
Seeing the Nemeton's pitiful stump brought back some painful memories Scott would rather forget, but he couldn't fault the Nemeton for it all, the sacrifices, Stiles' possession... After all, it wasn't its fault that it had been used by Jennifer, or that it had been poisoned by the Nogitsune.
He couldn't help his heart beating erratically, though, it was beating too fast and too loudly, and his packmates noticed it at once.
"Hey, it's gonna be alright," Derek pulled him close, and he buried himself in his Beta's welcoming arms as naturally as if those strong, wide arms were made for holding him.
It took him a couple of deep breaths as he inhaled Derek's comforting, familiar scent before he was able to calm down. Only then he remembered that Deucalion was with them and was probably seething with jealousy now, so he hesitantly turned to his lover. Surprisingly, there was no anger in Deucalion's eyes, and no judgment either, only tenderness mixed with care.
Relieved that Deucalion was so understanding, he looked at his packmates and realized with a sudden clarity that he needed to tell them how important they were to him… Just in case he didn't get another chance.
"The Nogitsune is probably still dormant, but if it's not and something goes wrong… I want you to know that I love you, each and every one of you." He cleared his suddenly clenched throat. "Alright, let's do this. Peter, the urn?"
"Ready to trap some naughty bug," the man smirked, before his gaze gentled. "And Scott? We love you too."
He nodded gratefully, then steeled himself, approached the wooden trapdoor and grabbed the iron handle. As soon as he pulled it to himself, though, opening the door for barely an inch, he heard furious buzzing as a fly flew past him with an unnatural speed, straight into the sky, way beyond their reach, but they still chased after it, not wanting to lose sight of it.
For a moment it seemed that catching it would be impossible, but then the Nogitsune lowered its flight, and all too soon they saw its target: a human boy, standing beside a bike and watching them in surprise as they raced in his direction.
Mason.
Scott screamed at him to run, to get away, but the boy didn't react, frozen in shock. A moment later, the Nogitsune reached him and flew straight into his ear. For a split second the boy's body turned rigid, his eyes unfocused, before he blinked and stared at them with suspicion.
"What's going on?"
"I need you to go with us," he said urgently, his heart pounding in his chest. Not again, not another possession, he'd had nightmares about Void Stiles for years…
He grabbed Mason by the arm and ignored his struggles as he led the boy to the parking lot where they'd left their cars.
"Let go of me, or I- I'll call the police!" Mason threatened, though his body stank of panic and fear.
Oh, the beautiful teenage years when the worst, unthinkable thing that could happen to someone was getting involved with the police...
"Sorry kid, but in case you didn't notice, I am a Deputy Sheriff," Jordan pointed out.
"A fake one, or you wouldn't let them kidnap me!"
Scott clenched his jaw, it was going all wrong, by increasing Mason's anxiety they also fed power to the Nogitsune, but knocking the boy unconscious was out of the question too, since it would make him more vulnerable and successible to the possession.
"Mason, listen to me. I know that you may not feel it yet, but you were- infected," he said awkwardly. "And it's not only you who's going to be affected, but you will also pose a danger to others."
"Whoa- Infected? By what?"
"We don't have time to explain it fully, but let's call it a bug, and it's already inside you. The infection spreads quicker when your pulse quickens, like when you feel angry, stressed, or afraid. So even though it's not easy, I want you to calm down so that your heartbeat goes back to normal."
Mason stared at him with disbelief. "You're bonkers. Totally, stark raving crazy!"
Scott sighed heavily. "Look, tell me what would it take for you to calm down? Because I really need you to calm down. Please."
Mason shook his head as if in denial. "If I'm sick or whatever, I want you to take me to Liam's dad. He's a doctor, he'll be able to help, right?"
Scott seriously doubted that Dr Geyer would be able to help with an evil spirit possession, but he reckoned they would need to go somewhere to think about their options. And they could pretend that they were going to the Dunbars while in truth they would go to Derek’s loft instead.
"Alright, let's go there," he decided. "But in the meantime, try to stay calm and relaxed, or as much as you're able. This is really important."
When Mason nodded reluctantly, Scott asked the twins to sit with the boy in the back of the car, since they probably seemed less threatening than the rest of the pack, but could still keep an eye on him.
***
Dr Geyer seemed surprised when Rafael told him that he had questions about Deucalion Emery.
"To be totally honest, I haven't thought about the man ever since I learned that he left the hospital against medical advice, but since patients do that for various personal or financial reasons, and it happened the same day my family was assaulted, I didn't give it much thought. Why? Is he connected to the attack?" the man asked, baffled.
"No that I know of, this is a different case that I'm currently investigating," he replied uncommitally. "How would you describe his injuries when you last saw them?"
"Very serious. Worrying, too, since they weren't responding to any treatment."
Rafael hummed thoughtfully. "How about his eyesight, I recall from the docs that he had some kind of sight defect?"
"What? No, it wasn't simply a defect, but a permanent blindness caused by extensive, most probably mechanical damage, judging by the scars around his eyes."
Rafael observed him carefully, trying to gauge his honesty. "How would you then explain the fact that when I saw the man recently, he was the picture of health, and his eyesight was as good as new?"
“I would say that it’s impossible and that most probably you’ve got the wrong man, but then again… Weirder things happened that modern medicine still can’t explain.”
When he said this, Dr Geyer had a polite, blank expression on his face, but it seemed… fake, somehow. Or designed to hide something, but what, Rafael couldn’t tell.
He opened his mouth to ask another question, when they heard commotion on the stairs.
“No, let me go- Agent McCall, HELP!”
Recognizing Mason’s voice, Rafael stood up at once, his hand going instinctively to his gun holster.
What in the world had the boy gotten himself into?
Chapter Text
Smuggling Mason to Derek's apartment turned out not to be as easy as it sounded. The boy had been docile enough until they reached the second floor where the Dunbars lived, and told him to keep going up to the fifth floor instead. Next thing they knew, Mason screamed for help. Deucalion immediately put his hand on the boy's mouth in order to silence him, but it was already too late.
A moment later, Rafael walked out of the Dunbars' flat and stared at them. "What is going on here?" He asked sternly, his palm resting on the gun holster in warning.
Scott stifled a curse, just what he bloody needed, his father interfering in the pack’s business. He looked pointedly at Jordan, who understood his intentions without words and knocked Rafael down, twisted his arms back, then in one swift move put handcuffs on the man's wrists.
"Thanks, Commander, I've wanted to do that ever since that git marched into the Sheriff Station as if he owned it…"
"Are you even aware what trouble you just got yourself into? Assaulting a federal agent can get you eight years in prison, so release me at once," Rafael spat out, though the effect was somewhat ruined as he was lying face down on the floor and was far from being intimidating at the moment.
Jordan grinned unrepentantly. "No can do. Now shut up or I'll gag you, and believe me, I'll do that with pleasure. Same goes to you, Mason. No one here wants to hurt you, but scream one more time and you'll get your mouth duct-taped, is that clear?"
The boy nodded mutely, his eyes wide. He was probably too shocked by their flippant treatment of a federal officer to do much more.
Through the doors that were left ajar after Rafael's exit, Dr Geyer peered at them hesitantly. "Should I be worried, Scott?"
"Sorry, but we have a kind of supernatural emergency that involves Mason, and we're going to Derek's apartment to deal with it," He explained, trying not to get into too much detail. "Just wondering, what my father was doing in your flat, did he have some questions about the assault on your family?"
"That's what I initially thought, but then he started asking questions about him," David pointed at Deucalion. "By the way, it's good to see you in such good health, Mr Emery, especially considering the circumstances of our last meeting."
"It's good to see you for the first time ever, Dr Geyer," Deucalion smiled crookedly. "As you might have guessed, it was Scott who healed me, the same day when he healed your wound."
"That would explain your sudden departure from the hospital, I assume it wouldn't have been easy to explain how you miraculously got better and regained your eyesight on top of that," David nodded with understanding, then turned to Scott. "Is there anything that I can do to help?"
He pondered the question for a moment. "Actually, I might need to borrow Liam for a while to help me with Mason. Liam, you can come out," he called out, "I can hear your heartbeat from behind that door."
Liam walked out of his flat and muttered sheepishly: "Sorry for eavesdropping."
"It's fine, pup," he ruffled the boy's hair. "Your friend followed us into the woods but the Nogitsune got to him first. Now we now need to figure out how to help him without anyone getting hurt, and I'll need your help with that."
Liam gasped. "Me? But I don't know a thing about possession."
That shook Mason out of his silence. "Possession? But you said that I was infected!" The boy glared at Scott.
"I didn't lie, you were infected… by a malevolent spirit," he explained. "Now, can we take this discussion to Derek's? Dr Geyer, you're free to join us if you wish," he offered, hoping that the presence of a trusted adult will help calm Mason down, and the man nodded.
"I will, just give me a moment to text Jenna and let her know where we are, so that she doesn't get worried when she comes back from shopping to an empty flat," the man went back inside for a moment to get his phone.
"What should we do with him?" Jordan nudged Rafael with his shoe.
"He's already seen and heard too much," Scott sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. It wasn't the way he wanted to introduce his dad to the supernatural world, if at all. "Let's take him with us, that way we'll be able to keep an eye on him. We'll deal with him later," he decided. Worst case scenario, he'll remove his father's memories, but he hoped it wouldn't come to that.
***
After being dragged upstairs and thrown carelessly onto the sofa like he was a sack of potatoes, Rafael managed to twist his body so that he was facing the rest of the room as Scott explained to Dr Geyer what was happening. Too bad none of it made any sense, though. Werewolves? Magical trees? Dark spirits possessing teenagers?...
Was it some kind of a game, like cosplay? But all the men surrounding Scott looked concerned, even grave, including that young Deputy who had taken Rafael down earlier. Maybe they were a cult or a sect, he wondered. But if that was the case, how had Scott gotten involved in it in the first place? Was it Deucalion who had manipulated him into joining it, or maybe that Hale guy, Melissa's lover?
Wait, was Melissa a cultist as well?
And what worried him the most: what had Scott meant by saying that they'll deal with him later?...
***
Scott tried to explain the situation as best as he could, but he didn't know if it was a total success. Thankfully, Liam, who had attended the last pack meeting and had at least some knowledge of what they were dealing with, was the quickest to catch on.
"Okay, so how do we get this Nogi-thingy out of Mason?"
"Wait, you can't seriously believe this!" The boy protested. "Dr Geyer, please tell them to let me go, they're all crazy!"
David sighed. "I know for a fact that Scott is a werewolf, so if that's possible, then possession might be as well. But I'm afraid that I'm out of my depth here, just as you are."
Mason crossed his arms over his chest and turned to Scott. "If werewolves are real, then prove it. If you won't, I'm not trusting a word that you say."
Scott raised his eyebrow. He knew from his first life that Mason had a brave, fierce spirit, but he also missed his Mason's patience and calmness, which this younger version of the boy apparently still needed to learn.
"Alright guys, who wants to show off?" He addressed his pack.
"Allow me," Deucalion drawled, then morphed into the Demon Wolf, his red eyes flashing as his skin darkened into a deep blue, almost black color. "Oh, it feels so good to let the wolf out," he smirked, showing off his long, deadly fangs.
Mason yelped, then scrambled away as much as he could without falling off the sofa. "You- What-"
Scott raised his hands in a calming gesture. "It's alright, we're werewolves but we're not monsters, Mason, we don't want anyone to get hurt. You might not feel it yet, but the Nogitsune has taken a residence in your body and once it's been fed with enough negative emotions, it will start taking over your body and hurting people around you. We need to expel it from you before that happens."
Mason swallowed loudly. "What do you plan to do?"
"Nogitsune feeds on pain, chaos and strife, so we'll try to fill your mind with opposite emotions. That's why I need Liam, I'll act as a conduit and transfer positive feelings, the sense of friendship, into your mind."
"And if it doesn't work?"
"The other known way to shock the Nogitsune into leaving its host is to change it." Seeing Mason's confusion, he added: "One can't be both a fox and a wolf, so if I give you the bite and turn you into a werewolf, the Nogitsune will have no choice but to leave your body."
***
Mason couldn't believe in what he was hearing. He would've felt it if he was possessed by an evil spirit, wouldn't he? He didn't feel any different, though. Maybe Scott was wrong and that fly hadn't reached him back in the forest but had flown past him?...
But what if it was true, after all? Could he risk endangering others and allow himself to be used as a tool to turn people against each other? He didn't want that, and he'd do everything to avoid it.
"Okay, let's try positive emotions first," he decided, trying to hide his nervousness.
Scott smiled and patted him on the knee. "That's the spirit! Liam, sit next to Mason and I'll stand behind both of you. You'll feel my claws puncturing the skin on the back of your necks, but keep still and don't struggle, alright? Ready?"
Mason looked at his friend and wished they had talked honestly with each other earlier. He'd known that there was something weird going on with Liam, but instead of waiting for his friend to open up to him, he'd been trying to figure it out on his own, and this was the result.
"Yeah," he muttered, not feeling ready at all.
He felt something sharp piercing the back of his neck, and a second later he stopped seeing the apartment and strangers watching him wearily, and saw-
Himself.
He sits on a swing, alone. Other children in the first grade avoid him, and he doesn’t know why. Is it because he's black, or because he's new and moved into Beacon Hills in the middle of the semester?
"Hey, do you want me to push you?" a scrawny, blond boy asks.
"No thanks," he replies, thinking the kid will shove too hard and cause him to fall, then pretend it was an accident. It happened with other boys, and he doesn't care to repeat it.
The blond boy pouts. "How about we switch and you push me?"
"Go away, don't you know that I'm a pariah?"
"What's a pa- para-" The boy stumbles over a new word.
"Someone who no one likes and everyone avoids."
"Oh, I'm like that too," the boy admits, and Mason doesn’t get it. The kid has everything it takes to be popular.
"Why?"
"I get angry easily and hit other boys. I don't mean it, it just happens! But now no one wants to talk to me."
Mason blinks. "You didn't hit me. "
"You didn't make me angry, but it can happen. I'm sorry if it will," the boy looks wearily at him, as if expecting to be rejected.
"Okay, you can push me on the swing," he allows, instead.
The boy brightens. "Great! I'm Liam, by the way."
He wonders for a second if befriending a boy who beats other kids is smart, but then decides that he doesn't care. Liam's the only one who doesn’t treat him like dirt, and it's enough for him.
"I'm Mason," he says.
shift
He stays over at Liam's house, playing video games together, but he can't focus. He loses, again, and Liam asks him what's wrong.
"I'm gay," he blurts out.
This is the first time he says it out loud, the first time he tells anyone.
"O-okay," Liam stutters a little. "Um, do you fancy me?"
He looks at his best friend, and thinks about it. Liam is attractive, beautiful even, but he doesn’t feel the urge to touch him or kiss him.
"No, I don't fancy you, I just wanted you to know, so that you won't get surprised when I start dating other guys."
Liam is silent, and Mason starts to feel nervous.
"Are we… alright?" He asks tentatively. "It doesn't change anything, you know."
"It changes everything!" Liam protests, and for a moment Mason can't breathe. He thought that his friend would accept him no matter what, but if not- "If you're going to meet and date other guys, it means that you won't spend time with me anymore, and I'm going to be left alone-" Liam keeps talking, and Mason grabs his arms.
"I'll always find time for my best friend," he says.
"Oh. Promise?"
"I promise."
"Alright then. Another game?" Liam asks hopefully, and Mason laughs, then nods.
shift
He sees Liam looking at Scott with adoration, and despises the older boy on the spot. But it's only the beginning. The next day, he only hears "Scott this" and "Scott that" and he feels like he's lost his best friend.
They were perfectly fine, just the two of them: Liam and Mason, and they didn't need anybody else. But ever since Scott interrupted their lacrosse practice, Mason feels like he's a third wheel, old, boring, discarded.
Replaced.
He tries to fight this feeling, but it's too strong. In a haze, he thinks that he hears Liam's voice telling him that it's not true, that they'll always be best friends and that he could never be replaced, but that voice gets quieter and quieter as he's being surrounded by darkness.
***
When Mason opened his eyes, he realized that it wasn't his doing. While they were his eyelids that were blinking slowly, it wasn't he who was in charge of the movement… Someone, something else was looking through his eyes, instead.
His lips moved, and he let out an ugly laugh which terrified him.
"Foolish wolf, did you really think that you could beat me? There's no love or friendship that isn't tarnished by jealousy, selfishness or fear. You won't win with me, but if you don't believe that, try again. I already feel stronger, but I wouldn't say no to feeding some more," his lips stretched in a mockery of a smile, while in truth he wanted to cry, and beg for someone, anyone, to help him.
Chapter Text
When Scott saw Mason's body being used like a marionette, he turned away from the monster that inhabited the boy's body and clenched his eyes tightly, trying to fight off tears. He'd sworn never to bite someone who wasn't willing, but it appears that he didn't have any choice in the matter, since he wasn't going to ask his packmates to do it instead. He was their leader, it was his responsibility, and he would see it through, no matter how much it would hurt him.
"Yesss, your pain tastes delicious, give me more of it!" The Nogitsune cackled with glee.
He breathed slowly, willing himself to calm down, and only when he got a grip on himself did he turn around to face everyone again.
At some point Liam must have stood up from the sofa, and was now being embraced by Dr Geyer, both father and son watching the Nogitsune with horror.
"Now you begin to understand, this is not Mason speaking,” he told them gravely, “though at some point he might start pretending to be him, just to cause us more pain or stab us in the back. Or both."
"What are we going to do now?" Liam's voice shook.
"I have no choice now, I need to bite him," he said with a heavy heart. He took a step forward when Jordan put a hand on his shoulder, so he looked at the Hellhound questioningly.
"Cerberus and I, we might have an idea how to force the Nogitsune out of Mason's body without turning the boy into a werewolf. We're not sure if it will work, though."
"Tell me, at this point I'm ready to try anything," he admitted.
When Jordan's eyes flashed with Hellfire, he knew that he was speaking to Cerberus.
"There's one thing that has baffled me for quite some time now. Why is Nogitsune called a Void Kitsune, if it feeds on human emotions? The Void is no place for mortals, if anything, it is the antithesis of what Nogitsune needs to survive," the Hellhound explained. "Then I remembered that all Kitsune are tricksters at best, cheaters and liars at worst. What if their biggest fear has been hidden in plain sight, so that no one would guess it?"
He stared at the Hellhound, stupefied. "Are you suggesting-"
"Connect my mind with his, Commander. I am a creature of the Void. Imagine an eternity spent in motionless, silent, total darkness... I have that memory, and I can threaten Nogitsune with it, trap it inside if need be."
Before Cerberus could continue, Nogitsune spoke in a trembling, vulnerable tone of voice, so different from his earlier arrogant drawl: "Scott, don't do this. Liam, Dr Geyer, please help me, don't let him hurt me-"
Mason's lips trembled, his eyes filled with tears, but Scott wasn't fooled by the act. He'd witnessed something similar when Stiles had been possessed and he wasn't going to make the same mistake twice and believe in anything Mason said or did until the boy was free from Nogitsune's influence.
"If this caught its attention, I think you might be onto something," he said to his Hellhound, instead. "I think we should try it."
"Wait, Mason's my best friend, if he gets hurt-" Liam choked on his tears.
He walked to his pup and gathered him into a tight hug.
"Whenever I'm transferring memories from one person to another, I'm experiencing them too. At the first sign that something is amiss, I'll break the connection, I promise," he inhaled deeply. "Alright, let's do this."
As soon as he said this, the Nogitsune jumped up from the sofa and started to run away, but was caught by the twins who dragged him back, snarling and spitting as if he was a wild animal.
"Boys, hold him in place, Derek, immobilize his head so that he doesn’t struggle too much. Peter, have the urn ready to catch the bastard as soon as he's expelled from Mason's body. Cerberus, are you ready?"
"I am, Commander."
Not wasting any more time, he plunged his claws into Mason's and Jordan's necks, then dived inside.
***
It felt as if he was drowning in a thick, black ocean, eerily similar to the darkness he had experienced in the in-between state. But this… this was even more terrifying, there was no solid ground under his feet and he felt as if he may drown anytime.
He heard quiet splashing and turned around, only to see Mason's body floating in the water. When he swam to the boy, Mason blinked and opened his eyes slowly, his eyelids blinking the black liquid away.
"Are you real? Am I?" The boy whispered, as if a louder voice would disrupt the murky waters. "I can't feel my body anymore. Tell Liam it wasn't me who said all those horrible things, I swear-"
The boy's body stiffened in distress and he started to drown, so Scott caught him and kept him above the water.
"Easy," he murmured. "And don't worry, Liam knows."
"Where am I?"
"This might be Jordan's mindscape, or a part of his memory," he guessed. "We're trying to use it to force Nogitsune out."
"I think the thing is still inside me, I can sense its dread. It's afraid of the dark water, more than anything." Mason bit his lip, torn. "Scott, you need to put me under."
"No," he protested. "I'm not risking it, who knows what this water does. Besides, Liam will never forgive me if something happens to you."
"It's the only way, I can sense it. I'm terrified of being put under, but I don't know where my feelings end and where this being's fears start... It's the worst, not knowing."
Scott looked worriedly at the liquid darkness around them. The parts of his body that were under water were slowly losing feeling, he couldn't feel his feet anymore, and his legs started to feel numb too. He didn't know how long he could keep them both afloat… He needed to make the decision now.
"Alright, but just long enough to shock the Nogitsune into leaving your body. Take a deep breath," he instructed, then instead of keeping Mason's body above water, he pushed him down, so that the black liquid covered the boy's entire body, ears, eyes, nose, everything.
He tried not to feel as if he was killing him.
***
Mason was a good swimmer, and he knew how it felt to dive underwater. But this… It was a completely different experience. It felt as if he was put in a sensory deprivation tank, but on a whole different level, since he literally couldn't feel or sense anything, even Scott's hands holding him down. As he opened his mouth to scream, black water filled his mouth and nose, cutting off his sense of taste and smell. He tried to spit it out, but it was too late, his last tethers to reality were already gone.
Could he die here? He wondered in panic. Would he even feel it if he was drowning? How long was he already trapped in this numbness-inducing darkness? Maybe he was already dying, his lungs trying to breathe air desperately, but he just couldn't feel it?... If his heart was beating frantically, he couldn't hear or sense it in any way.
What… What if he was already dead, and just didn't know it?
No, he thought. If he was feeling emotions, then he couldn't be dead. But if he was alive, then that meant that he was still feeding fear and panic into that spirit that had possessed him... What he needed to do was to numb his emotions too, even if that meant he couldn't tell anymore if he was dead or alive. But if it was the only way to be free of that monster, he was determined to do it.
He opened up his mouth, drinking, swallowing, letting the dark water flow deep inside him, and with each mouthful his sense of existence paled and faded into nothingness.
***
When Scott realized that he couldn't hear Mason's heartbeat any longer, he clumsily grabbed the boy’s body with his numb fingers and pulled him above water, then broke the mind connection, hoping that it wasn’t too late.
Once he was back in his own body, he saw Mason kneeling on the floor on all fours, coughing and spitting out dark liquid, and with it, a mangled, motionless fly.
Chapter Text
Scott breathed with relief when he saw Peter putting the unmoving fly into the Nemeton urn. It could be dead, but it could also be in shock, or even faking death, and they couldn't take any chances.
It was over, he realized, he didn't have to worry anymore about his friends becoming a prey to the Nogitsune ever again. Mason was still shaking, though, but if it was a reaction to possession or to a contact with the Void, it was hard to tell at this point. Dr Geyer helped the boy to stand up, with Liam nervously hovering beside him.
"So, this is all real - werewolves, spirits…? Possession?" Mason was wide eyed, his expression raw and vulnerable.
Surprisingly, it was Jordan who replied: "You know it's real, because you've felt it, experienced it. No one becomes possessed and comes out of it unscathed. Believe me, I would know, but I was lucky enough to be possessed by a being that doesn't want to hurt me or the people I care for."
"But- don't you hate it, that your body isn't yours?" Mason asked hesitantly.
"I've learned to share, but it wasn't easy at first," Jordan admitted. "You've had it ten times worse, though, because Nogitsune didn't care for your feelings as it forced your body to obey its will."
Sensing shame and guilt on the boy, Scott said with feeling: "No Mason, don't ever think that it was your fault, because it wasn't."
"But it was! If I didn't follow you, if I didn't agree to spy on you-"
He blinked. "Wait, you've agreed to spy-" Suddenly, all the dots connected in his mind all at once. Mason insisting that they go to the Dunbars, his call for Rafael's help…
He swirled around and glared at his father who was half-sitting, half-lying on the sofa and observing everything with a stunned expression on his face, though Scott could almost see the cogs spinning in his mind. He walked to Rafael in quick strides, grabbed him by the shirt and hauled him up.
"It was you, wasn't it? Why did you ask a teenager to do the dirty work for you?"
"I knew that you wouldn't trust me-"
"For a good reason!" He growled.
"It wasn't I who was hiding having bloody claws, Scott," his dad snapped. "You could have told me what was going on with you."
"Why the hell would I have trusted you with it, or anything else? Once, I'd been a needy, sickly kid who adored the very ground you walked on, and you'd still abandoned me! So why should I suddenly start to trust you?" His chest heaved as he struggled to breathe.
He longed for his inhaler, until he reminded himself that he didn't need one, not when he had his pack to calm him down. Closing his eyes and reaching to the inside, he grazed the links to his packmates gently, for once not pouring his feelings into them but instead asking for theirs. They reacted at once, first Peter with his care and trust in him, then Derek with his steadfast, unfailing loyalty, followed by Jordan's deep, endless devotion.
He exhaled and opened his eyes, letting go of his sense of betrayal and helpless anger at having been abandoned by his dad, knowing that in the end these emotions would only hurt him more. Instead, he replaced it with almost tranquil calmness which had its roots in the knowledge that his pack was everything he would ever need.
"What did you just do?" Rafael frowned.
"I anchored myself," he explained, knowing perfectly well that it wouldn't tell anything to his father. "My point is, I didn't tell you, because you've let me down more times than I can count. You're not exactly trustworthy."
He ignored the hurt expression on his dad's face. Rafael was the only one to blame for their nonexistent parent-child relationship, so why should he care for how the man was feeling?
"I won't lie, I don't understand half of what I saw today, if anything at all, but… you're still my son. I don't want to lose you."
Scott had longed to hear these words for his entire childhood, but now… it was too little, too late. "You can't lose something you didn't have in the first place," he said impassively, then turned to his packmates. "Peter, Derek, hold him still."
"What are you planning to do?" Rafael asked with apprehension as he was grabbed by two werewolves.
"I'm going to wipe your memories of today's events completely clean, so that you can't blab it to anyone."
"Scott, wait-"
"It's safe, you know. You'll be able to go back to your precious job without having to worry about your werewolf of a son," he said bitterly and extended his claws, then circled Rafael and stood directly behind him.
"What, no- Tee, stop it," his dad pleaded, using his childhood nickname. Tee, short for Scottie, was a memento of times that were long since gone, and yet it still held a power over him, enough to make him hesitate for a moment, before he shook himself out of it.
"I'm sorry, but I need to do this, I can't trust you to keep everything that you've learned to yourself."
"Tee, I'm not going to tell. Not when it could endanger you."
Scott hesitated, again. He listened in to his father's heartbeat and could tell that he was being truthful, or at least believed in what he was saying. He moved so that he could look Rafael in the eye.
"Dad, this is serious. There are people whose life mission is hunting werewolves, not to mention if the government got a sniff of our existence, we would be locked in labs or camps, or worse. If you tell anyone, it might be a death sentence for me and my pack."
His dad frowned. "Is it really that bad?"
"It is. There is a war brewing with werewolf hunters, so you need to swear that you'll tell no one who doesn’t already know about us."
"Does your mom know? Wait, of course she knows, she's dating him, after all," Rafael glared at Peter.
"What can I say, having a werewolf lover has its perks, as Melissa can attest to," Peter smirked in response.
Jordan interrupted their glaring contest by asking: "So what's the plan, Commander, should I uncuff him?"
Scott looked at his father seriously. "Dad, you need to make a decision: are you with me no matter what, even against the law if need be?"
Rafael was silent for a long moment, and Scott was glad that he was taking this seriously and taking the time to think about it.
"I'm with you," his dad finally said, his heartbeat strong and steady.
***
Seeing Mason coughing up awful, black liquid made Liam realize how close he came to losing his friend. That's why when Scott was talking with his dad, he pulled Mason to the side.
"I'm sorry that I didn’t tell you about- all of this," he apologized, feeling wretched about the whole thing.
"I wouldn't have believed you and thought you were crazy," Mason grimaced. "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have spied on you and Scott, that was a shitty thing to do."
They were quiet for a moment.
"So, what now?" Liam asked tentatively.
For a split second, Mason's eyes looked haunted, before he blinked it away. "Tell me everything."
Liam grinned, because it was such a Mason thing to say, and he knew without any doubt that his friend was back.
***
Learning that werewolves were real and that his son was one had shaken Rafael's entire world. He wouldn't have believed it if it wasn't for the fact that he'd seen with his own eyes how Scott's nails extend into wickedly look claws, not to mention Deucalion's transformation into a deadly-looking monster. The latter should probably bother him more, but somehow it got lost among everything else that had happened afterwards.
He was surrounded by werewolves and other creatures. In fact, as a human he was probably a minority here.
But what was worse, there were werewolf hunters out there, and his son was a target, and that just wouldn't do. He wasn't the best parent, or even the most caring one, but he would be damned if he let Scott get hurt… Nope, not on his watch.
Still, having his world turned upside down wasn't exactly the easiest to digest and for the first time in years he felt the need to have a drink. Or two.
… Or get completely smashed.
When he said goodbye to Scott, still reeling and feeling as if he'd been hit on the head with a hard, blunt object, rather than going back to his hotel, he went to a pub instead. He ordered double whiskey and took a swig, enjoying the familiar way it burned his tongue and throat. Damn but he'd missed it, so he welcomed its taste like it was a dear, old friend.
He was taking a last gulp and was about to order another when a woman, roughly the same age as he, flopped down on the bar chair beside him. He gave her a quick once-over: tall, with short dark-red hair and bold red nails looking as if they were ready to pluck someone's eyeballs out… A predator in a business suit.
"Your stare was hardly subtle," she snorted, then ordered a drink from the bartender.
"I don't think subtle is your type," he ventured a guess.
"After a failed marriage of almost twenty years, it's hard to say what my type really is," she shrugged. "Definitely not my ex-husband, though."
"What's he like?"
"Soft. Emotional. Caring," she grimaced, as if these were the worst traits a man could have, and he barked a laugh.
"That doesn't sound so awful."
"It doesn't sound hot and sexy either, does it?" She raised her perfectly manicured brow, and he chuckled again.
"You've got a point here. I'm Rafael," he introduced himself on a whim, because, why the hell not? She was attractive enough, her body looking soft and curvy where it should be, but her personality was all sharp edges and hard like steel, and it was already turning him on.
"Victoria," she shook his hand while giving him an appraising look, as if judging his worth.
Her grip was strong, her palm a little calloused as if she didn't mind physical work, and damn, but he wanted those hands on his body. It wasn't like him to be attracted to someone so quickly, though, so he blamed it on the double... even later, when they stumbled into his hotel room, lips locked and undressing each other in a rush.
Chapter Text
When Scott suggested that only he and Lydia should go to the Nemeton and see if they could get in contact with its avatar, the entire pack rebelled as one man, claiming that since the Nogitsune had been taken care of, he shouldn't leave anyone out.
"Is there a reason why we shouldn't go? Any valid reason, besides you being a hopeless worrywart?" Isaac asked skeptically.
"Well, not that I know of, but-"
"Man, you can't just hog all the action to yourself, it's not fair," Stiles whined.
He threw his hands up. "Alright, alright! You wanna come with us, then come. Who am I to stop you?" He ostentatiously ignored Stiles' pump his fist up in victory and the way he and Isaac gave each other high five. He huffed and muttered: "Since when are you two so chummy, anyways?"
"We're not chummy, we're allies united by a common cause. And since the alliance has paid off, get used to it, since it's here to stay," Stiles said smugly.
Isaac added with a shrug: "Besides, someone needs to make sure that us humans aren't left on the sidelines, again."
Scott couldn't help a pang of guilt at hearing that, so he didn't say anything and just went along with the whole 'let's go together' plan. When his mom told him firmly that she's going too, he wasn't even surprised.
***
"That's quite the gathering," Deucalion murmured, looking around as they all met in the woods on Sunday afternoon.
"Tell me about it," Scott sighed.
His lover smiled with understanding. "You've built a strong, unconventional pack: humans, werewolves, a Hellhound, a Banshee… Don't be surprised that they all want to be included in the pack's matters."
"They're going to be disappointed, since the last time I managed to get in contact with the Nemeton, it all happened inside my head. It's not something that they can actually witness."
Deucalion took his hand as they walked. "You know that they're not here for fireworks, they're here to support you and Lydia."
"I guess I knew that, but... thank you for reminding me," he murmured gratefully. His lover didn't reply, just squeezed his palm gently.
When they reached Nemeton's stump, his packmates halted and looked at him.
"What now?" Lydia asked expectantly, though he could sense that she was nervous.
"Honestly? I have no idea. Last time when I met Meredith - well, the being that she was representing - I was on the verge of death. I'd rather not repeat that experience unless I have no other choice."
"You better not," his mom said sternly.
He turned to Alan. "Any ideas?"
The emissary rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I remember that when you made a vow with Deucalion, you used your blood to connect with the Nemeton. Maybe try doing something similar?"
He took a deep breath. "Yeah, it's worth a try. Lydia, give me your forearm, I'm going to pierce us both with my claws." He didn't know if it was a testament to her courage or her trust in him that she thrust her arm in his direction without a moment of hesitation. "Alright, ready?"
Her eyes were bright and unafraid as she said: "Do it."
He pierced her skin with his right hand, deep enough to draw blood, and clenched his left hand into fist so that his claws dug into the flesh. For a moment he thought that it was all for nothing and he hurt her for no reason, but the moment the first droplets of their blood fell on the tree roots, he felt a presence filling his mind, and he heard a faint, barely audible whisper.
"You've kept your word, young wolf."
He heard Lydia gasp beside him, so she must have heard it too.
"Meredith's sacrifice brought me back, so I couldn't go back on my promise, not when I owe her my life. Is she-" his voice wavered. "Is she… gone?"
"Just like a seed has to grow, each leaf must fall and be buried beneath the snow," the being replied, then as if sensing his sorrow, it added softly: "All living things fall into the darkness in the end, young wolf. You've been touched by the Void, surely you must be aware of this."
"I am."
And he truly knew this. He'd lost his entire pack in his first timeline and even though he'd done everything in his power to prevent those deaths this time around, he was acutely aware that sooner or later it was all going to end, one way or another. He could only hope that he'd bought them all enough time to enjoy their life together as a pack.
"And you, my fierce fairy, you've seen death too, are you afraid of it?" He could tell that this time the Nemeton spoke to Lydia rather than him.
"I'm not afraid of it, but I hate it. I hate waking up with a gasp, sensing that someone just died, knowing that it's too late and I can't do anything about it… Can you take it away, make me human again?" She asked hopefully.
The Nemeton was silent for a moment. "The dead need to have their voice, to be able to scream for the last time for all the world to hear. You are that voice."
Lydia bit her lip. "But why do I sense only violent deaths?"
"Those who leave this world peacefully don't need you to scream for them. You are the voice of the ones who die before they're ready, you take their terror so that they have the courage to step into the unknown. Knowing this, would you rather be a human again?"
Lydia exhaled shakily. "No, I wouldn't- No."
For a second, they could sense a warm, gentle approval coming off the Nemeton. "You truly are as fierce and brave as the little wolf sees you. But are you brave enough to take on one more task? Will you agree to be my voice?"
After that question rang in their heads, there must have been some communication between Lydia and the Nemeton that he wasn't privy to, because after a minute or two when the girl blinked slowly, her eyes started to shine with a deep emerald-green light, and he instantly knew that it wasn't his friend who was now standing before him.
"I owe you much, so heed my warning. This is the last time we meet before you're asked to pay the price for breaking the boundaries which bind every mortal. Next time, you're going to bleed into my roots until you're all but lost to the world," Lydia-Nemeton said.
He heard his pack's gasps behind him, and his throat constricted painfully.
"Please… Do you know how much time I have left?"
Her emerald eyes kept gazing at him without a blink. "The Wild Hunt is already waking up from their slumber. They'll be at the height of their power by the summer solstice, and they'll come for you then."
He closed his eyes in despair, and when he opened them again, Lydia's eyes were human again, and were quickly filling up with tears. She threw her arms around his neck and he held her close, trying not to break down right here and there.
Summer solstice, that left him what, a month? And he had so many things to do still, people to save or bring into the pack. What about Kira, Theo, the Chimeras? How could he accomplish everything he needed to do in four, five weeks? And even worse, how could he leave all the people who loved him, counted on him?...
"Scott, what's happening? What was she talking about?" Derek frowned.
Peter had a grim expression on his face as he asked quietly: "Is this what you didn't want to tell me the day we argued about the Desert Wolf?"
He released Lydia from his embrace and faced his pack. "I'm so sorry guys, I've always known that I'd have to pay the price for travelling back in time and changing fate, but I thought I'd have more time, months, maybe even years…"
"Scott, what are you saying?" His mom asked, disbelieving. "What's going to happen on the summer solstice?"
"The ritual wasn't precise about it, just that I'd have to pay in pain and blood for each, even the smallest change I make."
"But you've already changed so many things-" Chris said, then his eyes widened. "No…"
"Maybe it won't be that bad, maybe I'll survive this," he said weakly, not quite believing it himself. The changes were too huge, and he planned to save even more people in the short time that he had left. "Still, you have to be prepared, just in case I won't."
"But there must be a way to defeat them, right? The last time Peter and I had managed to escape them, maybe you could too?" Stiles asked hopefully.
He shook his head. "No, I can't run, and I can't try to avoid this in any way."
"But why?"
He took a shaky, quivering breath. "Because if I do, they'll go after everyone who benefitted from the changed timeline. Everyone. And I- I can't do this to you. I did this, so it has to be me."
Suddenly, it was all too much for him, and he hid his face in his hands, shaking like a leaf. He was barely suppressing tears; he'd always known it would come to this, so why did he feel as if his heart was being torn into tiny little pieces? Then, he felt a strong hand squeezing his shoulder, and even without looking up he knew it was his Hellhound, as his nostrils caught a faint smell of fire and ashes.
"You won't be alone. Wherever you go, I go too, Commander."
"Jordan, no," he protested weakly. "You have to live, you must."
The Hellhound chuckled, but it was a sad, pained sound that teared at his heart. "This is the only order that I can't obey."
He swallowed thickly, because he didn't deserve his Hellhound's loyalty and knew that he wouldn't ever be able to repay it.
Suddenly, Jackson scoffed. "So what, you're both going to just.. accept it, and do nothing? You're going to let those weirdos on horses beat you to death, just like that?"
Scott bit his lip, because even though Jackson didn't try to feed his feelings into their bond, his control was still very poor. He could feel the boy's despair and sense of betrayal, and they were eating at his insides like acid.
He turned to the boy. "Jackson-"
"No, don't try to placate me! When you gave me the bite, you promised that you're going to be there for me, even though you knew that this was going to happen! How could you have done this to me?"
"I'm sorry," he whispered, not knowing what else to say, because Jackson was right. He shouldn't have turned him into a werewolf when he'd known that their time as a pack was limited.
"I wish I've never became your Beta," Jackson choked up, his chest heaving, and fuck, but it was painful to hear, even though he deserved it.
"Sorry bro, but that's not true. You love being his Beta more than anything," Boyd said with gentleness that few would have thought him capable of, but it didn't calm Jackson down, if anything, it seemed to anger him even more, as his fangs lenghtened and eyes started to glow.
"Don't tell me what I feel! You have no idea what it's like to- to-"
Scott couldn't take it anymore, so he walked up to Jackson and pulled him into a tight hug, even though the boy stiffened and tried to push him away half-heartedly.
"I love you too," he murmured into Jackson's ear, who instantly went still. Then, he cupped the boy's face in his palms and looked him straight in the eye. "If I could escape the ritual's consequences without endangering you all, I would. But I can't, so yes, I'm going to let the Wild Hunt beat me into a bloody pulp, or whatever they plan on doing, and then I'm going to cling to life as best as I can."
"Swear it," Jackson demanded, though his voice quivered.
"I swear," he said solemnly. "If it's possible to survive this, I will."
Chapter Text
A month. They only have a bloody month left. It wasn't enough, it could never be enough, and yet this was the hand they'd been dealt.
A losing hand.
While Scott was talking to his pack, Deucalion turned and walked away, and when the twins started to follow him, he growled at them with his fangs bared in a warning, and they backed off at once.
He didn't watch where he was going, as long as he went far away from the searing pain, this gripping agony that tore into him like a wild dog's jaws that squeezed him tighter and tighter, all the way to the bones, sinew, veins and marrow. He was being torn apart, and there was nothing he could do about it, because no matter how far he went, the pain went with him.
***
When the initial shock had passed and the harsh reality finally started to sink in, his whole pack looked wrecked, so Scott made sure to hug everyone, putting all his love into each embrace.
His mom was trembling as she murmured into his hair that it wasn't true, it couldn't be true, because he was her baby boy and she was supposed to protect him. How could a mother outlive her child? It was unthinkable. Unreal, like a nightmare from which they'll wake up from in a second and exhale shakily in relief that it was only a bad dream.
"Mom," he whispered brokenly, suddenly not knowing what to say, how to console her, so he only held her tighter.
But when he pulled back, he realized that the person whose presence he yearned for the most wasn't there, and he felt his stomach twisting with anxiety.
"Deucalion, did anyone see him?"
"He went that way. We tried to follow him, but-" Aiden shook his head.
"I need to go after him," he didn't know why he said this to his mom, of all people, as if asking her for permission. Maybe because she looked so small now, and he was afraid that she would crumble the moment he left her.
But her eyes were warm and understanding as she squeezed his arms. "Go and find your man. He must be as devastated as we are."
He nodded gratefully and went running in the direction his lover had gone, following his scent.
Deucalion must hate him now for giving him illusory hope, only for it to be snatched away from their hands so quickly, so brutally. Were the few weeks of stolen happiness, of breathless kisses, sharing a bed and dreams for the future, were they even worth this pain? For him, the answer would always be 'yes', but he wasn't going to be the one left alone to grieve.
He found Deucalion walking ahead in a daze, tripping over tree roots and faltering every couple of steps, as if he was dizzy and could barely walk. And although the man must have heard him coming closer, he was yet to react in any way to his presence.
"Please, my love," he begged, "look at me."
Deucalion's back stiffened as he turned around slowly. "I thought I could do this, to accept the fact that I am going to lose you, but it just hurts too much."
"I know," he whispered, hating himself for causing his lover so much grief. "If you'd rather leave, I'll understand. I can't ask you to- to count the days and just wait for me to be gone." It would shatter him to let Deucalion go, but he'd do it if he had to. He'd endure any heartbreak, just to spare his lover at least some of the pain.
His offer finally shook Deucalion out of his stupor and the man crossed the distance between them, only to gather him in a desperate embrace.
"No, no, no, no," Deucalion murmured repeatedly as his hands slid up and down Scott's body, as if making sure he was real, that he was still here. "I'm not leaving, I'm not wasting what precious time we have left."
Scott closed his eyes and buried himself even deeper into his lover's arms, sagging against him bonelessly. He wished he could stay like that indefinitely, but if he couldn't, he needed to come up with a way to make the best out of these last weeks, to squeeze everything he could from every hour, every minute.
***
When they got back, Scott started to apologize, but he was immediately silenced by his pack.
"You have nothing to apologize for," Chris gave him a look.
"I know, I just- I swear that I never wanted to hurt any of you. And I was thinking… How about we all move in together?" he blurted, surprising everyone. "Just hear me out. If the worst scenario is truly going to happen, I want all of you close so that I can spend as much time with you as I can. So why don't we make use of all those empty flats in Derek's apartment building?"
Lydia was the first to react. "I'm sorry, I can't, my parents won't let me be away for so long, but I'll try to drop as often as I can."
He nodded with understanding. "That's fine."
"But for the record, I think this is a really great idea, and I'm kinda jealous just thinking about it," she added with a playful glint in her eyes, the first positive emotion she'd shown since the Nemeton dropped the news on them.
He turned to Derek. "How many flats do you have available?"
"Three floors with two flats each. Plus the fifth floor with its single apartment."
He frowned for a moment, trying to figure out who to pair with whom. "Okay, so myself, Deucalion and the twins would take the first floor, the second floor is already taken by the Dunbars, the third floor- Jordan, and Jackson, perhaps? Allison, Isaac and Malia would take the fourth floor. Mom, Chris and Peter, that leaves that huge apartment on the fifth floor to you. Stiles, you could always bunk with Derek from time to time, since I doubt that the Sheriff would let you have a month-long sleepover."
"You can bet," Stiles muttered. "Besides, I need to keep an eye on my pops, without me he would eat only junk food and forget vegetables exist for a reason."
He snorted, then turned to Boyd, who shook his head.
"Count me out, I don't want my parents to get suspicious, the less they're interested in what I'm doing the better."
He pressed his lips, wanting nothing more than to interrogate Boyd on his relationship with his parents, but this wasn't the time or the place. "Alright, so if we don't count Lydia and Boyd, we should all be able to fit in. What do you guys think?"
Everyone nodded, and Peter gathered Melissa and Chris in an impromptu bear hug, causing them both to laugh. It was a quiet, tired, but honest sound, and Scott was glad that they could still be happy, despite everything.
"Admit it, you're just using this whole 'let's move in together' thing as an excuse to move in with your boyfriend," Isaac commented cheekily.
"You caught me, that's exactly what I'm doing," he said unashamedly, then looked at Deucalion whose face finally started to lose the aching, stricken expression from before. "What do you say, love, are you ready to have me around at all times?"
He let out a loud 'oomph' when Deucalion grabbed him and kissed him possessively, leaving him breathless and trembling in a span of seconds.
He guessed that meant 'yes'.
***
There are moments in life which turn your entire life on its head. Sometimes, they are like a storm, a cyclone destroying everything in its wake. Sometimes, they are like a flood, snatching you without asking if you're ready, and pulling you along to an unknown future. And sometimes, they are like mining for silver and striking gold, instead.
For Liam, discovering the supernatural world was that kind of a moment. It wasn't all that great, he'd quickly learned, there were werewolf hunters out there, as well as werewolves and other supernatural creatures that weren't as kind-hearted as Scott's pack. So yes, he'd been wary, and also hesitant about whether he wanted to be a part of this world, dangers included.
But now the time was running out and he needed to make a decision, and he still didn't know what to do. Should he consider getting the bite, or abandon the idea altogether? He was torn, and afraid that without Scott in the picture, becoming a werewolf simply wasn't worth it.
Chapter Text
On Monday afternoon, Rafael asked Scott and Melissa to meet him at the Dunbars to discuss the upcoming trial which was supposed to take place on Wednesday. Scott expected his dad to give them some kind of a speech about how to act in court, what would be the order of the trial and so forth. What he would never have guessed was learning that the leader of the thugs would be getting away with the attack because apparently, he had information to trade and demanded immunity in exchange for it.
The Dunbars were rendered speechless, but Scott had no such problem.
"He wants what?!" he growled, beyond furious.
"The state prosecutor is adamant that we use this perp as a way to catch bigger fish. There's an international human trafficking business going on that various governmental agencies have been fighting for years but weren't able to catch the worst culprits so far," his dad explained. "I know that it's not ideal, but it is for the greater good."
Scott closed his eyes for a moment, trying to get a grip on his anger, knowing that losing his cool wouldn't help anyone.
"Letting him get away with attempted murder and rape is good? At least tell us that the prosecutor is not going to offer the perp blanket immunity," seeing his father's telling grimace, he cursed. "Fuck, I can't believe it!"
Jenna looked between them with a frown. "Can someone tell me what exactly are the consequences of that?"
"A transactional or blanket immunity offers a complete immunity for any and all actions revealed in the testimony, even if the government finds independent evidence of the crime," Rafael admitted reluctantly.
"Do you mean that the man who is responsible for the attack on our family won't get punished, at all?" David asked with a misleading calmness, but Scott could smell the bitter helplessness on him, and hot anger rivaling his own, if not greater.
Rafael nodded, looking disheartened.
"But- what if they come back? Or send someone else to finish their job?" Liam's hands started to shake, so Scott caught them with his own palms to steady them.
"We can't let any of those men get free," he said with grim determination.
Rafael shook his head. "I don't like it either, but there's not much we can do. There are dozens of missing women and children who the FBI suspects might have fallen victim of human trafficking by this particular crime group. Without substantial intel we won't be able to help them, so we need to have an inside source of information, and the longer we stall, the more probable it is that the group has already moved its bases and changed trafficking routes."
Scott gritted his teeth and started pacing around, trying to figure out a way to save the missing people, but also put the attackers on trial and get them sent to prison, which they fully deserved. "So what you need is information, regardless of the source?" He asked, thinking quickly.
His dad instantly recognized the look. "You have a plan."
He nodded. "Give me five minutes with the guy and I'll retrieve all the information you need, names, addresses, phone numbers, everything you need. Then you can go to your boss saying that you managed to secure an informant who only asks for anonymity but who offers all this information at once and for free."
Rafael rubbed his chin with his thumb and index finger. "The idea has some merit, but- This needs to be executed flawlessly. How do you plan to force the perp to talk? He can't have so much as a scratch on him or he'll accuse us of unlawful treatment."
"Who said anything about using force?" Scott smirked. "Using my claws I can open his mind like a sardine can, and no one would be the wiser. The only thing I need is to get that guy alone for five minute tops. Maybe I could ambush him in a bathroom or something?"
Rafael hummed thoughtfully. "That's not a bad idea since bathrooms are the only places in court buildings not packed with cameras, but the problem is, there's no telling if and when he would need to use one."
"How about we put mild diuretic in his drink?" Melissa suggested. "It can be even something natural like an extract from an artichoke leaf, nothing that would come up during a blood test."
"Mom, you're a genius!" Scott gave her a side hug with a huge grin.
"But how and when are we going to put the diuretic in his drink?" David asked.
"I can volunteer to be a member of the team retrieving the perps from the arrest," Rafael offered. "It's not usual for an FBI agent, but not unheard of either, and if my boss asks I can always say I want to eavesdrop on their conversation during the transport in case they reveal anything."
"Do you think it will work?" Jenna asked, her eyes hopeful.
"It has to, because I don't think we have other options," Rafael said grimly.
"Worst case scenario, if we can't get the guy in the bathroom, I can always tackle him to the floor and use the commotion to use my claws then. I'm a minor, there's not much they can do to punish me for that," Scott pointed out, "and I could always claim to be emotionally distressed by seeing the man again, but it won't give me as much time to access all the memories that we need. I'll probably be able to get only bits and pieces that way, so hopefully it won't come to that."
His mom's look told him without any doubts that he better not do something so reckless.
"Let's stick to the plan A for now," she said sternly.
Everyone nodded and they proceeded to iron out the details, and once there was nothing more to discuss Rafael said goodbye and left.
"Thank you for helping us again," David said gratefully, shaking Scott's hand, while Jenna pulled Melissa into a short, loose hug.
"Of course, you can always count on me, and the rest of my pack too."
"I don't know how we could ever repay you, we already owe you so much-" Jenna's voice quivered.
Scott shook his head. "Hey, let's not talk about debts, it's not how packs work. We need to stick with each other and look out for one another, right? Besides, you know how much Liam means to me, I'd do anything for him."
Recently his pup had become a little distant, but since the recent revelations probably weren't easy to digest, he wanted to give the boy time to process and wrap his head around it all… But it didn't stop him from running his fingers through Liam's short hair affectionately.
***
Liam didn't know how Scott did it, again, but it seemed that there was not a problem that the Alpha couldn't solve or a challenge he wouldn't raise up to. It was as if every time the universe threw roadblocks in their way, Scott wouldn't stop until he found a way to overcome the obstacles, no matter what they were.
Somehow, it was both inspiring and daunting at the same time, because how could anyone try to live up to that standard? Liam wanted to be like Scott, but how would he even start? He wasn't as strong, resourceful or brave. Compared to Scott, he felt small and imperfect, but as long as he had the older teen beside him, it didn't matter, because he wasn't alone.
But Scott could be gone in a few weeks, and the thought made him feel as if he was losing a part of himself.
That realization shook him to the core. Scott was a part of him. That's why he no longer had anger-management issues, because the Alpha's presence in his life was like an anchor, grounding him like nothing else could. He felt the happiest when he was with Scott, and it had nothing to do with romantic feelings, no matter how often his parents had teased him about it.
It seemed that even though Liam was still a human, Scott was already his Alpha in every way that counted. But… Did he want to take their connection one step further and ask for the bite? Logically, he should wait and see if Scott would survive the encounter with the Wild Hunt, but being rational wasn't his strong side. Losing Scott was going to hurt like hell no matter what, and he wasn't going to let the chance to experience a pack bond with his Alpha slip through his fingers.
"I want to become a werewolf," he blurted, causing everyone to look at him in surprise.
"Are you sure, sweetie?" his mom asked.
"Yeah. I mean, I've thought about it a lot, and- yes, this is what I want."
"Liam, you know what can happen soon. I don't want you to ever regret this decision," Scott looked him deeply in the eye, and he fought a blush.
"I think I'd regret not doing it even more. You make me feel more calm and centered, but there's a part of me that's still missing, and I know that it's our pack bond. It's like it was always supposed to… be there," he finished awkwardly, not knowing how to better describe the feeling of absence in his mind.
"I can feel the bond on my end, that's how I was able to track you that first day when we met on the lacrosse pitch," Scott confessed. "I had no idea you could feel it too."
"I feel that it should be there but it's not, and it's like- like I have a dislocated shoulder, it just needs to pop back in."
Hearing this, Scott cupped his face in his palms, his thumbs gently caressing his cheeks, and Liam leaned into the touch with a soft sigh. With anyone else, it would feel wrong and inappropriate because of how intimate the gesture was, but with Scott, it felt only natural.
"Do you really want this?" the Alpha asked, his face solemn.
"Yes, I do," he said quietly, not because he was unsure of his answer, but because it seemed appropriate.
Scott took one last look at Liam's parents, as if silently asking them for permission, and when they nodded, he looked back at Liam, his face morphing to his werewolf self, with long fangs, protruding facial bones, and glowing red eyes.
Surprisingly, Liam wasn't afraid, though his heart beat quickly in his chest and his hands were clammy. It was a mix of nervousness, excitement and anticipation, but fear was definitely not on the list.
He could never be afraid of his Alpha.
The bite hurt something awful, though, and he couldn't suppress a pained moan that slipped through his lips involuntarily. A couple of seconds later, Scott pulled back, his whole mouth covered in blood, then grabbed Liam's forearm, absorbing his pain.
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah," he panted, watching as Scott wiped his lips with the back of his hand. "Is it… done? What happens now?"
Scott nodded and grinned, showing off his bloodied fangs.
"Lots and lots of cuddling, pup."
Chapter Text
Liam inspected his bite wound with curiosity mixed with morbid fascination. He'd done it, he was finally a werewolf! Physically he didn't feel any different, but he supposed that it was too soon for the changes to kick in just yet. But the empty spot within him… it wasn't empty anymore!
It was as if up until now he'd been looking at a pastry shop from behind a glass wall, and now he was allowed in and could eat all the sweets he wanted. He reached there and it was as if he'd just taken a mouthful of vanilla ice cream, it was sweet and simply perfect.
"Scott, it worked, I can feel our bond! Woohoo!" He whooped with joy and started to jump up and down in excitement, making his parents laugh. He didn't mind, he was too happy to be self-conscious of acting like a kid. And besides, he didn't have to pretend, not in front of his family.
"So fast? Wow, that's incredible. In all honesty, I didn't expect it to happen immediately, usually it requires a prolonged physical contact between an Alpha and freshly turned werewolf for the link to form," Scott explained. "But wait, let's test it, what am I feeling right now?"
Liam scrunched his eyebrows, trying to focus on the impulses he was getting from their link, and the biggest challenge was to differentiate them from his own feelings. "Um, happiness, there's also pride, and I can't blame you, 'cause I'm gonna be the best Beta ever, just you see- Wait, why are you feeling pain?" He asked, suddenly alarmed at the sharp pang he got from the bond.
Scott whistled, impressed, then turned his palms up so that they could see that he punctured the skin with his claws. "Well done! And don't worry, it'll heal in a moment, I just wanted to send you some sensations that you weren't expecting, because it's pretty obvious that I'm happy and proud of you."
Liam blushed at the praise.
"If I can already sense the link, does it mean that we won't get to cuddle?" He tried to hide his disappointment at the thought, but he probably wasn't very successful.
Hearing this, Scott embraced him with one arm, pulling him close. "That's up to you, it's your transition into a werewolf that we're celebrating, so you can choose how we're going to spend the evening."
Liam pretended to think deeply, while he knew exactly what he wanted.
"I want an uber-cuddle," he announced, excited. "Not just you and me, but a huge sleepover, where everyone from the pack is going to be invited."
"So I'm no longer enough for you?" Scott playfully pretended to be offended, but Liam could sense that the Alpha was as excited by the idea as he was.
"You're nice, I guess, but the twins are more fun," he deadpanned, making Scott throw his head back and laugh heartily.
His mom cleared her throat. "So, a sleepover? I better start preparing some snacks, then. Any idea how many we should expect?" She looked expectantly at Scott.
"A dozen, I guess? Maybe a couple more. David, would you mind getting some more pillows and duvets? I'll pay you back," Scott offered but Liam's stepdad just waved him off. "Alright, I better start calling people and ask who's going to come. Liam, why don't you invite Mason? I don't want him to feel excluded."
This made Liam blanch, because he just realized he needed to explain to his best friend that he'd just gotten himself a werewolf bite without telling him first… He excused himself hastily and went to his flat to make the call.
As expected, Mason wasn't impressed by the news. "You did what?!"
"I asked Scott for the bite and he said yes. He even asked my parents for permission, well sort of, and they approved," he explained, feeling weirdly as if he was talking about getting married and not being turned into a werewolf. "So, I'm having this huge sleepover with the whole pack, do you wanna come?"
"We have school tomorrow so I doubt my parents will agree, but I'm gonna drop by for an hour or two," Mason promised, then hesitated. "Is it… safe for me? I'm not a werewolf, and I honestly hope it'll stay that way."
"No one is going to bite you, don't worry," Liam rolled his eyes. Honestly, he needed to show Mason that the reality wasn't like the movies where werewolves were running wild biting random people left and right! "Besides, you won't be the only human there, so don't worry, you'll be fine."
"Okay, I'll be there, and then we're gonna talk, because honestly? This is huge, man."
He sighed. "I know, I know. See you in a bit."
He knew that it'll not be easy to explain to Mason his decision, but he knew he had to try. He'd been keeping so many secrets from his best friend and it had caused a lot of friction between them over the last few weeks, so after the Nogitsune incident he'd promised to himself to be open and transparent from now on.
***
It turned out that the whole pack managed to come, though not everyone could stay the whole night, and Scott understood that, seeing as it was a weekday. The werewolf members of the pack welcomed their newest packmate with approving nods and pats on the back, making Liam's blush almost permanent before he disappeared somewhere with Mason. Scott was relieved to see the rift between them closing and the boys' fractured relationship slowly healing, even though he knew it might take some time.
Everyone else was mingling, even outside of their usual mini-groups, so Isaac was no longer glued to Allison's side as was a standard nowadays, but was bickering good-naturedly with Boyd and the twins instead. Still, there was an underlying sadness hanging in the air, the Nemeton's words still fresh in their minds, but despite it everyone seemed determined to enjoy the evening.
After a moment Scott saw that Peter approached the boys, joining the conversation with a knowing smirk on his face, meaning that he'd probably been eavesdropping on them, the sneaky wolf. But that was a good sign and he was glad to see Peter taking a more active role in the pack.
He looked around, pride and satisfaction filling him to the brim. This was his doing, and he felt a sense of accomplishment of bringing them all together, even though he was fully aware that his task wasn't done yet and there were still things he needed to do before the month was over. If anything, it only served to make him more focused and determined to close as many open threads, before his story inevitably came to an end.
***
Jackson knew that his time was running out and that he really needed to talk to Mr Argent. For a moment he longed for a drink, hoping that alcohol would make him more bold, but he reminded himself that it was only a fake courage, nothing more. Besides, it's not like alcohol had any effect on him any longer, he could drink a whole bottle and he would accomplish nothing besides needing to pee.
He took a deep breath, then seeing that Mrs McCall excused herself to the bathroom, he saw his chance to talk.
"Mr Argent, I was wondering if I could speak to you about something."
The man blinked, surprised, before he smiled and nodded. "Sure, and please, call me Chris, since I'm not going to be an Argent for much longer."
"Oh?" He hadn't heard about that.
"My family and I had a serious fall out and I'm changing my name to Hale, with Peter's blessing of course."
Jackson blushed a little, since learning about their threesome had been quite a shock to him and he still wasn't completely used to the idea, but then he remembered why he asked for a talk in the first place and cleared his throat awkwardly.
"Um, you're aware that my parents are divorcing, right?" When the man nodded, he took a deep breath and continued: "They'll be leaving Beacon Hills shortly after, my mom is planning to return to Pittsburgh to her family while my dad got a job in London, and I don't- I don't want to go with either of them, I want to stay here with the pack…"
With embarrassment he realized that a couple of tears escaped his eyes and he wiped them hastily with his sleeve.
"Hey, it's alright, we're going to figure something out." Chris rubbed his arm gently, and Jackson tried not to feel self-conscious about the way he leaned into the touch, soaking the attention like a sponge.
"My father said he'd let me stay in Beacon Hills if I find an adult willing to take me in and act as my guardian, and I was wondering if you could-" Seeing the shock on Chris' face, he added hastily: "I know that I'm sometimes rude and I say things that I later regret, but I'll try to do better, I swear. And you don't have to, you know, really take care of me, I can manage on my own, I just need it to appease my father-"
"Jackson, stop," Chris said firmly, and he fell silent obediently, feeling his face getting hot from embarrassment. "Are you asking me to become your guardian after your parents split up?"
He nodded mutely, his throat suddenly constricted too hard to allow him to say even a single word.
"I'll do it, and you don't have to change just to make me agree. I don't want you to think that it's conditional and you have to prove anything to me. You don't, because parenting is about caring for kids no matter if they are rude, or if they do something wrong. And it's the parent's role to show them how to do things right."
Jackson's hands shook, and he suddenly felt too hot and too cold all at once. He must've made a pitiful sight, because Chris' eyes softened and the man gathered him into a hug, rubbing his back gently. Jackson buried his face in the man's shirt, his heart hammering wildly in his chest, when he felt his body starting to shift, and he jumped away hastily.
"Scott, I need Scott," he mumbled in panic, feeling his control slipping. He moaned when his bones moved and rearranged, when suddenly he felt his Alpha's presence beside him.
"I'm here," Scott murmured, taking his hands and pouring a sense of tranquil calmness into their bond. "Breathe in and out, just let it go, let it all go."
Jackson closed his eyes and just listened to his Alpha's voice, focusing on each inhale and exhale, and forgetting about everything else. When he opened his eyes again, his body no longer shook and he felt like himself again, but then realized that everyone's eyes were focused on him, and he blushed hotly.
"Sorry," he whispered, ducking his head, ashamed of making a spectacle of himself, again.
"You have nothing to be sorry for," Scott assured him, then looked pointedly in the direction of their pack. A moment later, the conversations around them resumed, giving them some sense of privacy. "Can you tell me what this was about?"
Chris approached them hesitantly. "Jackson, was it my fault? Did I say something wrong?"
He shook his head. "No, no, I just got overwhelmed. I guess I'm not used to adults caring for me and for a moment it was all too much. But it's great, please don't change your mind now," he pleaded. He'd hate it if the man thought that he was too much trouble, after all.
"Change mind about what?" Scott asked, looking between them, intrigued.
"Jackson asked me to act as his guardian once his parents get the divorce. I agreed," Chris explained. "And Jackson? I'm not changing my mind, no matter what."
He thanked the man quietly, since he was too emotionally drained to do much more. Maybe later he'll allow himself to think about it all, his biological parents who had died in a car accident, his adoptive parents who had quickly become tired of him after he'd failed all of their expectations, Scott's fierce and protective love which meant the world to him, but was soon going to be taken away from him, and finally about Chris' promise to be there for him and care for him unconditionally.
At some point he was going to think about it all, but for now… For now he just wanted to let himself be and not think about anything at all.
Chapter Text
Later in the evening, they pushed all the furniture to the side to make a huge free space in the middle of the room, then they started inflating the air mattresses that David and Jenna had brought before saying good night and going downstairs to their flat.
Isaac looked at Allison and Malia who were already lying on top of one of the beds, whispering and giggling at something only they were privy to. It sounded like a girl thing, though, so there was no way he was getting involved. The last time he'd asked Allison to include him in their conversation, he'd learned more about hair removal methods than he'd ever wished to know, including the fact that apparently, hard wax was better choice for bikini line than soft wax. Why were there different types of wax, anyway?...
Nope, there was no way he was going through a similar conversation ever again.
"Hey Peter, wanna bunk with me?" He asked hopefully.
The man looked up while continuing to pump one of the beds with a foot pump. "Sure. I wouldn't be able to fit in with Chris and Melissa, anyway, since the beds are too small for three."
The beds looked large enough for Isaac, but he recalled how grumpy Peter had been after sleeping with Scott and him, complaining that he was used to king size beds, and he hid a smile.
"Great, thanks!"
Stiles scratched his head, bewildered. "You two don't mind sleeping together?"
Isaac shrugged. "I've slept with Peter and Scott already - not like that, you pervert, I meant actually sleeping," he huffed after Stiles sent him a saucy wink. "You know that Peter's dating my mom and Allison's dad, so get your mind out of the gutter."
That didn't seem to convince Stiles as the boy kept wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, so Isaac threw a pillow at him, hitting him on the head. The pillow battle that followed was truly epic, with others joining in and even changing sides in the middle of the fight, making them shriek, squeal and giggle all at once.
Then, by pure accident Isaac's pillow hit Deucalion, who up until now had been simply watching them with an indulgent smile. Everyone froze, wondering how the Demon Wolf would react. The man's face was inscrutable for a moment, before his lips twitched, and his eyes glinted with amusement.
"You know this means war, don't you?"
Isaac exhaled in relief when he got the pillow thrown straight back in his face, because getting into a pillow fight with the Alpha of Alphas was better than enraging him for real. Deucalion might have mellowed a little thanks to Scott's positive influence, but Isaac wasn't crazy enough to test how deep those changes went, thank you very much.
***
When everyone was getting ready for bed, Jackson looked around, realizing that most people had paired up already. He would've bunked with Lydia but she'd left, saying that her parents weren't thrilled about a sleepover during the week. Maybe he should use the same excuse and just leave, before he's forced to face the reality of not being close enough to anyone to ask them to sleep together?
Even Isaac, the once aloof and shy guy, had grown self-confident enough to ask an Alpha werewolf to bunk with him, and Peter had agreed, just like that. So why couldn't Jackson do the same? When had his and Isaac's roles reversed so that it was he who was feeling uncertain and inadequate for a change, when Isaac seemed to be so at ease with everyone?
Suddenly, he felt a warm hand being placed on his back, and he looked up, startled.
"We're sleeping together," Jordan announced, the man's eyes fixed at him with a knowing glint. It wasn't a question but a statement.
It should infuriate Jackson to no end that the Hellhound had made the decision without asking him first, but inside he felt the tight ball of anxiety that had been weighing on his stomach for quite some time finally dispersing.
"Fine," he muttered, a little embarrassed, but mostly just relieved.
"Go change and brush your teeth, and then we can go to bed," Jordan pushed him gently in the bathroom's direction, and he went obediently, his steps suddenly lighter.
It felt so good, so easy to be told what to do. He only hoped that it wasn't because in the Hellhound's eyes he was nothing more than a little kid in need of a babysitter… It wasn't like that, he could make decisions of his own and act like an adult, but most of the time he found it exhausting, and he preferred to simply follow orders, letting another person to take the responsibility off his shoulders.
When he got back, the lights in the room were already off except for a small lamp in the corner, and the majority of the pack was already in beds, talking quietly with each other.
Jordan was lying on their bed, waiting for him patiently. Feeling self-conscious, he lay down beside the man stiffly, not knowing what was appropriate and how he was supposed to act. Thankfully, Jordan quickly took the initiative and covered them both with a duvet, then pulled them together so that Jackson's head rested on the man's chest and their bare legs brushed gently.
"Alright?" Jordan asked quietly.
He nodded, burying his nose in the man's t-shirt and trying to inhale the Hellhound's scent without being too obvious about it. The soft rumble of Jordan's chest as the man chuckled told him that he'd got caught, though, and he blushed hotly, thankful that no one could see it.
"Sorry."
"No need, I like it. We'll talk in the morning, without nosy werewolves eavesdropping on us, okay?" Jordan murmured in his ear, the man's lips grazing his earlobe for a split second, sending pleasant shivers down his spine.
"Okay," he whispered back.
"Good. Now close your eyes and relax."
Jackson did as he was told. Slowly, his breathing evened out, and he didn't even notice when he fell asleep.
***
Scott was lying in Deucalion's arms, already dozing off, when he sensed a movement on the bed beside them. A moment later he felt their mattress dent as Liam tried to wriggle in between them.
"What's your pup doing?" Deucalion asked, blinking sleepily.
"I think he wants to sleep with us," he murmured, then moved back a little, making more space for the teen, who wiggled and twisted until he managed to squeeze himself between the two of them. "Have you gotten tired with the twins already, Liam?"
"No, I've just missed you," the boy whispered. "Is this okay?"
Scott kissed the top of Liam's head. "Of course, you're always welcome."
"Unless we're having sex, then he's not," Deucalion commented dryly.
"Right, that would be awkward," he stifled a laugh.
"Stop flirting with each other and hug me," Liam grumbled petulantly.
Deucalion chuckled, then circled Liam's waist with his arm while Scott hugged the boy to his chest. "Aren't you a little too bossy for such a small pup?"
"Hey, I'm just fourteen, okay? I'll grow yet."
"Of course," Deucalion's amused, slightly patronizing tone should make it obvious that he highly doubted that, but apparently Liam wasn't good at catching such subtleties.
"I don't know why everyone is so scared of you, you're really nice," the boy stated. "And you're warm, I like it. Can we hug more often?"
It took all of Scott's self-restraint not to burst into laughter right here and there as he took in Deucalion's flabbergasted expression, before his lover's face softened.
"We can hug as often as you like."
In that very moment, Scott's heart swelled with emotion, because it proved that Deucalion had come to love his pack as much as Scott loved the twins, and that meant everything to him. No matter what everyone else thought about their relationship, he knew with certainty that he'd chosen well and that Deucalion was the one for him.
Chapter Text
Scott woke up early in the morning, a dull pain pounding in the back of his head. He blinked slowly before he realized that it wasn't a physical headache but an echo coming from one of his pack bonds. He carefully untangled himself from Liam's arms which were clutching at him tightly as if the boy was a wereoctopus instead of a werewolf, and when Liam squinted at him through sleepy eyes, he murmured quietly that he should go back to sleep. The teen grumbled something unhappily, but rolled to the other side and snuggled to Deucalion instead, making Scott grin for a second. Who knew that the two of them would hit it off so well?...
He stood up, trying not to wake up anyone, then focused on his pack bonds, searching for the source of his unease.
It was Derek.
He looked at the airbed that his Beta had shared with Stiles the night before, but it was empty, with the duvet pushed to the side. He quickly put on socks and trainers, then following their link he went upstairs to the sixth floor. Even before reaching the doors, he managed to overhear a fragment of the conversation, and it made his heart clench painfully.
"Scott has Jackson and Liam now, I can't just tell him that he should drop everything and spend more time with me."
"That's bullshit and you know it. You're Scott's Beta too, of course you can tell him that," that was Stiles' voice, and he sounded tired, worried and exasperated all at once. "Sometimes you're stubborn as a mule, I swear."
Derek snorted loudly. "Pot, kettle. I don't see you demanding more of Scott's time either."
"At least I see him at school, but you don't even have that."
"So what do you think I should say to him, 'hey Scott, I know you expect to be dead in a month, so let's cuddle while we still can'? Or maybe 'You have two young Betas who now need you more than ever, but don't forget about my needs too'?"
Scott had heard enough. Derek was unhappy because of him, or more precisely because he didn't pay enough attention, so he needed to make it right. He crossed the remaining distance to the loft, knocked twice, then without waiting for the reply he opened the door and walked inside.
"That's exactly what you should have told me, Derek."
His Beta looked startled before he scowled at him. "This is a private conversation. Did you stop to think that maybe I didn't want you to overhear it?"
Scott looked at him closely. On the surface, Derek was simmering with anger, but he knew that it was his Beta's usual reaction to feeling hurt or vulnerable, or both.
"I woke up because of our bond aching, so even if you didn't do it consciously, you did reach out to me. I'm sorry, I've never wanted to hurt either you or Stiles, but apparently I did it without meaning to."
Stiles looked away, though Scott saw his lips trembling. Derek's face, on the other hand, was carefully blank, not giving anything away.
He sighed. "You said it yourself, I don't have much time left, but rather than argue, I'd rather spend it with the people I love, and that includes you. Both of you. So please tell me what I can do to make it better."
That finally managed to make a dent in Derek's mask of pretend indifference.
"Stay," the man rasped. "As long and as often as you can."
Scott nodded. "I will. And believe me, if I could be in several places at once, I wouldn't ever leave your side, but this is the one skill that I don't have. I need to divide my time between everyone, but that's why I want to move here, so that I don't lose time getting from one place to another."
Derek's shoulders straightened and his eyes shined with newfound determination. "I'll have all the flats prepared in a few days."
"Perfect! And if you need a hand, I'm sure that Peter and Malia will be happy to help," He smiled. "Now, bed. It's been too long since our last cuddle time, we need to make up for it. Stiles, you wanna join us?"
"You bet, someone needs to make sure you don't get handsy with my boyfriend," Stiles joked, but despite his cheeky words he still looked a little teary-eyed, so Scott opened his arms invitingly. It was a testament to how much Stiles was hurting, that he went into his embrace without hesitation.
Stiles had never been much of a hug fan, and wasn't as open with his affections as the rest of the pack, so if he'd gotten to the point where he was clutching at Scott desperately as if he was his lifeline… It was a definite sign of how bad things were. Scott hugged him gently, suddenly hyper aware of how frail his body was. Stiles was still a human, teenage boy, thrust into a world he didn't understand, which now threatened to take his friend away from him.
"Come on, let's get you to bed, you're going to experience cuddle time in a true werewolf fashion."
"And how's that?" Stiles asked, suspicious but curious.
"With as much skin on skin contact as possible, so T-shirts are optional, with a strong suggestion not to wear them," as if to demonstrate, Scott took his off, and a second later Derek did the same.
Stiles stared at them with wide eyes. "That's not fair, you two have abs to die for, how the scrawny little me is ever going to compare?" He whined, but took his T-shirt off too and went to lie down on the bed. "Are you both coming or what?"
It was Scott's turn to be surprised for a change, because despite his words, Stiles apparently wasn't self-conscious about his body and looks anymore. His relationship with Derek must be a good influence, so he sent thumbs up in his Beta's direction, then dived under the duvet, Derek joining them a moment later.
***
On Wednesday morning, their plan of ambushing the perp who had attacked Liam's family went surprisingly smoothly, at least to a point. His dad texted them that the guy drank the soft drink with added diuretic as planned, and even before reaching the court started to wriggle impatiently on his seat. Rafael all too happily escorted the man to the restroom where Scott was already waiting for them. As soon as the perp did his business, Scott grabbed him and plunged his claws into the man's spine, while Rafael blocked the door so that no one else could get in.
Scott delved deeper, searching through the thug's memories with urgency, trying to get as much info as he could. This, unfortunately, turned out to be the most difficult part of their plan, not because of his lack of skill, but because the perp's mind was like a stinking cesspool, and he felt sick just from watching it, all the savage beatings, assaults and rapes the guy had committed, and worse, enjoyed.
He focused on the human trafficking part and managed to get just enough information before he felt physically sick and had to pull his claws out. He ran to the toilet cabin and fell to his knees, shaking and retching violently, barely aware that Rafael dragged the protesting guy away. He didn't know how long he was kneeling like that, his mouth tasting of bile and his face covered in tears and snot, before his dad came back.
"Everything alright, Scott?"
He didn't reply, but unrolled some of the toilet paper and wiped his face, then blew his nose.
"What happened with the guy?" He asked, instead, his voice thick from all the crying.
"He made a scene that he'd been assaulted but the police checked and there was not even a scratch on his body, so they reprimanded him."
He nodded then tried to stand up, but his legs wobbled underneath him, and Rafael had to catch him, otherwise he would've fallen face flat on the floor. He let his dad help him to stand, then guide him out of the restroom and onto one of the chairs in the corridor.
"Talk to me, Tee. What's wrong?"
He closed his eyes for a moment, but it only made it worse, the awful images burned into his mind like imprints, so he looked at his dad instead.
"The guy's memories, all the assaults, the rapes… They reminded me of- of- when I was the one being…" he stuttered, then choked on his tears which returned with vengeance.
He wasn't a victim, not anymore, and he hated feeling like one.
Rafael stared at him, aghast. "Tee, what are you saying…?"
He breathed deeply, trying to get himself under control. "It was a long time ago, it doesn't matter anymore. I'm over it, or at least I was, until what I saw in that pig's mind reminded me of it."
Ever so gently, his dad rubbed his back. "Is this okay?"
"Yeah," he whispered, then glanced uncertainly at him. "Can you- Can you not tell mom? She doesn't know, and I don't want her to worry or blame herself. It doesn't make any difference, I'm still me, I'm not weak or fragile -" His eyes burned with hot tears again.
"Hey, it's alright, I won’t tell anyone you don't want me to tell," Rafael promised, his hand making small circles on Scott's back, then paused, hesitating for a moment. "It wasn't Deucalion, was it?"
"No, no, of course not. He would rather murder those guys with his bare hands, not caring for the consequences, than hurt me in any way."
"He wouldn't be the only one," Rafael muttered darkly, then cleared his throat. "I hate to ask, but did you manage to get the information we need? I need to tell the prosecutor if we should proceed with the immunity agreement, or can we put all the perps on trial as they deserve."
Scott straightened, glad for the change of the topic. "Yeah, I did. Can you get me something to write this down before I start forgetting the details?"
"Sure. And Scott? I'm here if you need me."
He gave his dad a small, weak, but surprisingly honest smile. "Thanks dad, I appreciate it."
Chapter 171
Notes:
Happy holidays, my little baby chicks!
🐥🐣🐥
Chapter Text
Learning that Scott had been a victim of sexual assault was a painful realization for Rafael, and knowing that Melissa wasn't aware of this made things even worse, because it meant that Scott had had to deal with the the whole ordeal and its aftermath alone, without his parents' support. Rafael wondered if Stiles or Noah knew, but he guessed they didn't, because then the police would have gotten involved, and so would Melissa as Scott's guardian.
He was also painfully aware of the sad statistics that out of 1000 instances of rape, only 7 lead to a felon conviction, and that prosecutors often don't want to press charges due to lack of evidence or inability to identify the perpetators. If Scott had been molested a long time ago - and how young was he back then? - then the chances of proving anything were close to none. So if he couldn't punish the ones responsible for the assault, what could he do?...
Rarely had he felt so useless, but he couldn't let his own flaws and shortcomings rob him of his resolve. He knew that he'd failed his son time and time again, but he wanted to try to be a better father from now on, if Scott would let him.
***
Scott stared at the wall, his mind in turmoil after recalling the perps’ memories.
The trafficking ring's modus operandi was quite simple: they abducted only a handful of women and teengers from each small town to avoid catching the police's attention, usually from pubs and clubs since the drunk girls and women were the easiest target. The Dunbars were an exception to that rule, having been attacked at their home, but Jenna's marriage to David had irked the thugs' and they'd wanted to teach her 'a lesson'.
After the abduction, the victims were moved to a temporary base on the coast. Once enough people were kidnapped, they were transported to Hawaii and then to Japan where they were taken over by yakuza members and placed in "massage parlors" which served as fronts for large-scale prostitution rings.
It wasn't anything new, since yakuza gangs had been doing this for years, importing women and girls to Japan from East Asian countries such as Korea, Taiwan, Thailand and the Philippines, but with the globalization, the clientele grew more demanding and expected a variety in sex industry - clients wanted blondes, so gangs grew more creative in meeting those expectations.
He felt sick just thinking about all that, and was thankful for living in a country where human trafficking was strictly prohibited and punishable by law. He couldn't imagine how anyone could pay for sex while knowing or at least suspecting that the woman servicing him had been either abducted, coerced or sold into commercial sex industry. And it wasn't just sex slavery; children and teenagers from developed countries were also highly sought for organ trade, so Liam might have been a tempting target for that purpose as well.
Scott wasn't bloodthirsty by nature, but what he'd seen in the perp's memories made him want to hurt each and every one of the men responsible for those atrocities. Seeing the victims' faces in those memories made this all the more personal, since they weren't only statistics to him anymore, they were real people who even now could be imprisoned on a ship transporting them to Japan. They weren't his pack, they weren't even werewolves, and yet in that moment he promised to himself that he'd do anything in his power to save them. And if helping to catch the ringleaders would also give him the chance to spend more time with his dad, he wasn't going to complain.
While he was still hurt by how Rafael had acted in the past, ever since learning about the supernatural world, the man had been more thoughtful and less self-centered than ever. He could only hope that it was a lasting change, and that Rafael wouldn't go back to his usual behavior once the initial shock fades.
He looked up in surprise when his mom knocked on his door which he'd left slightly ajar, then sat down beside him on the bed. He didn't say anything, but was grateful for her silent, unwavering support. He was feeling tired and weary, and needed his mom more than ever, so he lay down with his head resting on her lap, as he'd often done when he was still a small child.
The trial had been a nerve-wracking experience for everyone, especially Liam, but Scott had used their pack bond to help him stay relatively calm and composed, so that the boy had been able to answer questions without any incidents like having an I.E.D. attack or worse, transforming into a werewolf in the middle of the courtroom. When the perps had been found guilty of breaking and entering, as well as assault and attempted sexual assault, the judge had set the date of the sentence hearing at two weeks from now, so the Dunbars were still a little hesitant to celebrate. Scott knew that they couldn't feel one hundred percent safe without knowing what the attackers' sentence would be, if the perps would be sent to jail and for how long.
“I’m going to skip lacrosse practice tomorrow and meet with Liam.”
His mom ran her fingers through his hair. “Are you sure? Maybe you could use a distraction from everything that's been going on.”
“Lacrosse is the last thing on my mind at the moment, I wouldn’t be able to focus on the game anyway,” he said with a grimace. “And I want to spend as much time with Liam as I can, since our bond is still fresh and his body is still adjusting to the bite.”
She nodded with understanding all the while stroking his hair, so he closed his eyes, letting the gentle touch soothe him.
***
When Brett caught a whiff of another werewolf’s scent while walking down the school corridor and heading to the exit, he immediately stiffened. The smell was vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t pinpoint it exactly until he followed it outside and saw the Dunbar kid, Liam, speaking in hushed tones to his friend with a subdued, grim look on his face.
So the kid had decided to take the bite, after all. But if he’d been willing, why the depressed look?...
Brett hesitated for a moment. It wasn’t his business what was going on in the McCall pack... Or had someone else bitten Liam? But no, he discarded the thought the moment it popped in his head, the boy now smelled too much like Scott, to the point his body scent had changed to reflect that of his Alpha, that’s why Brett had had a problem identifying it at first. He didn't know if approaching a Beta from another pack was a good idea, though. He didn’t want to cause any trouble, especially if it meant angering a True Alpha.
Yes, he’d heard the rumors and he couldn’t help but be intrigued by them. Was it really possible to ascend to an Alpha status by pure strength of character? It seemed incredible, like something out of a tale or a legend, but the few encounters he’d had with Scott McCall seemed to confirm it. The young Alpha was surprisingly kind and easy-going considering his status, but he also exuded power and confidence. From the very moment Brett had met him, he wanted to learn more about him, but had never gathered enough courage to actually do anything about it. This could be his chance, though.
He ignored Mason’s uncertain glances as he approached the two of them, and focused on Liam, instead.
“Congrats for getting the bite, you were quite excited about it the last time we talked.”
“Um, thanks,” Liam's lips stretched in a small but honest smile. “It wasn’t pleasant, but the pack bond was totally worth it. Sensing Scott’s feelings through our link was awesome.”
Wait. What?
“You're able to feel it already?” He asked, totally dumbfounded.
Liam’s heartbeat was calm and steady as he said simply: “Sure. Don’t you?”
Brett gaped at him for a second.
“It’s not common, is it?” Mason asked, tilting his head and observing his reactions closely.
It certainly wasn’t. Most young Betas were able to sense their pack bonds only under extreme pressure, for example in near-death situations when they subconsciously called to their Alphas for help. Usually only experienced werewolves who shared a strong, long-lasting relationship with their Alphas were able to sense their emotions through it. Brett, even though he’d been adopted by Satomi and has been her Beta for a couple of years now, only shared the barest of links with her, which did not include sharing emotions.
"It's not common at all. Wow, you're so lucky," he breathed, amazed. "Do you think the link is so strong because Scott is a True Alpha?"
"I dunno, it could be? I heard that his link with Peter and Derek is also super strong, so it's not like I'm special or anything, it might be more of a Scott's thing."
He couldn't believe his eyes when Liam actually shrugged, and he couldn't be certain if the boy wasn't aware how incredible that kind of a connection was, or if he simply didn't care, but either way, he didn't look even half as amazed as he should.
If Brett was in his place, he'd never take such a deep bond for granted.
"Peter and Derek- Wait, you mean the Hales? They're his Betas too?" He'd heard tales about the Hale family for years, they came from old money and had been one of the most influential werewolf families, at least before the fire.
"Derek's a Beta, but Peter is an Alpha too," Liam explained.
"I thought that Alphas were supposed to be leaders, not followers?" Brett was super confused now, and apparently, he wasn't the only one, as Mason frowned too.
"I guess it's not always the case, I mean, look at the Alpha Pack. But you'd need to ask Scott how exactly that works, he was supposed to meet me after classes- Oh there he is!" Liam waved energetically.
When Brett saw the warm hug the Alpha shared with Liam, and the friendly pat on the back Scott gave Mason, he couldn't help but feel envious, wishing that his own pack was equally open and welcoming.
It's not that Satomi or other werewolves from their pack were mistreating him or Lori in any way, absolutely not, but they were always so guarded and composed as if they'd taken their mission of controlling their emotions one step too far, to the point they avoided all unnecessary physical contact. Until he'd met Scott, he'd thought that maybe it needed to be like this, that it was the only way to control the animal instincts, but now he suspected it wasn't the case. What if Satomi's method wasn't the only way, or even the best one, to subdue their inner wolves?
"Hi boys, it's good to see you all three getting along," Scott said with an infectious grin. "Long time no see, Brett. How's Lori?"
"Um, doing well, thank you, she's on a cheerleading practice," he said, feeling compelled to explain why she wasn't with him at the moment.
It had always been the two of them, and that's how people perceived them: as if they were joined by the hip. And while he loved Lori and would fight the whole world if needed just to keep her safe, they were separate people, with different interests and opinions. He couldn't count how many times they had argued about various things, the most recent argument being about how Brett wanted to get to know other werewolves from outside of their pack, while Lori was strictly against it, perceiving it as a threat.
"Say hello from me next time you see her," Scott said good-naturedly before he cleared his throat. "I just overheard that you were talking about the hierarchy in my pack, what was that about?"
Brett gulped, he'd just been caught asking questions about things that weren't his business… He could only hope that Scott would let it slide.
"I'm sorry if I overstepped, I didn't mean to, I swear-" he felt his heart beating erratically, this was bad, he didn't want to come across as nosy and snooping in other pack’s affairs.
"Hey, it's alright," Scott's brow furrowed before he put his hand on Brett's nape. As soon as their skin touched, they both froze.
Brett could barely breathe, his heart was hammering in his chest as if it was about to burst. A foreign Alpha was touching the back of his neck. It just- it wasn't done. It was a gesture reserved only for family members and for one's own Alpha, a symbol of care and protection, and being touched there by another- it was unthinkable. It should make him feel repulsed, but for the life of him, he couldn't tell why it didn't.
"Guys, what's going on?" Liam asked, confused, but Brett ignored him altogether, his eyes fixed on Scott's.
Then, the hand on his neck moved, rubbing gently, and his whole body suddenly felt warm and over-sensitive. He was barely aware of the keening sound that he made as he lowered his eyes in submission and bared his throat, wanting nothing more than to simply belong to this Alpha, wanting the care, the warmth-
In the back of his mind, the bond that he shared with Satomi suddenly snapped, and he fell to his knees with a gasp.
Chapter 172
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
For a moment, Brett's vision was filled with black spots and he was dimly aware of his own erratic breathing, as well as worried voices calling his name. He blinked furiously, trying to get rid of tears which started to well up in his eyes.
"Brett, what's wrong? What happened?"
"My bond with Satomi, it's- it's gone," he choked out after a moment. "And it's my fault."
He hadn't meant it to happen. Yes, he'd often wondered if his Alpha's stoic, indifferent, sometimes even cold demeanor was a characteristic of all Alphas in general, or was it only Satomi's trait, but it's not like he'd been treated badly. He was thankful for the fact that she'd taken him and Lori in after their parents had died in a fire, he really was, he just hoped she was more… attentive, and interested in what was happening in their life, rather than letting them fend for themselves.
He didn’t really expect her to go to his lacrosse games and cheer him on, or advise him which high school he should apply to or which extracurriculars to choose, but it'd be nice if she wanted to know that, if she actually cared enough to ask. In the past he’d tried to get her attention, but more often than not she'd been focused on something or someone else, so eventually he’d stopped trying.
He also hated it when she would tell him what to do without asking his opinion first, like when she'd taken the note with Scott's phone number from him and not given it back. In moments like these he felt more like a follower and not Satomi’s packmate, much less her son, even if he was one only through adoption.
It didn't mean anything, he thought to himself bitterly, since Satomi didn't consider herself their parent but a guardian, and from the very beginning she’d discouraged it whenever he or Lori had tentatively called her 'mom'. She'd given them home and allowed them into her pack, and yet they were being kept at arms’ length, him especially, since Lori with her respect for authority figures fit better with Satomi than he ever would.
And now he’d managed to sever his pack bond without any other reason besides wanting the care and attention that Scott had shown him, and he didn't have any guarantee that he would actually be accepted into the McCall pack. He looked up, meeting the Alpha's worried gaze, and he ducked his head, embarrassed.
"Hey, let's get you up," Scott grabbed his arm and helped him to stand up, when Brett's phone started to ring. He glanced at the display and immediately wished he could shrink in himself.
"It's Satomi, how can I- what should I tell her? I can't-" He wasn't ready, it was too soon, he needed time to brace himself for the confrontation.
Scott squeezed his arm reassuringly. "It's alright, do you want me to speak with her?"
He nodded wordlessly, grateful that the older boy would do that for him, shield him until he managed to gather his bearings enough to face his now former Alpha.
***
Scott's first thought after learning that Brett's bond with Satomi had snapped was that she'd been killed, but then Brett admitted that it was his fault, and that confused him even more.
When connections between Alphas and Betas break on their own, it's usually a consequence of a prolonged separation or conflict within the pack. The deterioration can be abrupt, but it can also be slow and gradual, so it's not always obvious from the outside, but it can be felt within the link itself that it's getting weaker. At least, it's like that unless the atrophy is so slow and stretched in time that it's hard to pinpoint the moment when the bond would finally collapse.
If this was what had been happening between Brett and Satomi, then Scott's well-meant gesture of comforting the boy might have been the final straw that broke the bond, but it couldn't be the only reason, it just didn't work that way. But if Brett's link with Satomi had already been strained so much, why was the boy blaming himself for what had happened? He was just fourteen, so it had been his Alpha's task to try to improve their relationship.
He didn't understand how something like that had happened in the first place. Satomi he'd once known had a stellar reputation among werewolves, but then again, he hadn't known her close enough to form a personal opinion of her, as they'd met only a handful of times before she'd been killed by Monroe's hunters. It was obvious that she'd cared for her pack and was trying to keep them safe from harm, but he couldn't tell if caring about a pack as a collective meant caring about the individual pack members as well.
He was just helping Brett to his feet when the phone rang and the shame and guilt he saw in the boy's eyes strengthened his resolve to help as much as he could, that's why he offered to answer the phone call for him.
"Hello Alpha Ito, this is Scott McCall speaking," he said calmly, shocking the woman into silence for a few seconds.
"What did you do to Brett? Is he even alive?" Satomi's voice was choked, which was a good sign. He'd be more concerned if she'd appeared unaffected.
"Don't worry, he's alive and unharmed, though he's still reeling due to the bond collapse."
"What happened? What's your role in this?"
"The more important question is what's your role, but that's not a topic for a phone conversation. I suggest that we meet to discuss this."
"Give the phone to Brett, I want to speak with him," Satomi demanded instead, and he sighed.
"He's in shock, so the best approach at the moment is to give him some time to recover," he tried to reason with her.
Satomi huffed. "You've been an Alpha for what, a few months, and you're giving me advice on how I should deal with my own Beta?"
'Deal with'? He hoped that her choice of words was a result of worry and stress rather than treating Brett like a nuisance.
"Brett isn't your Beta anymore," he reminded her, his voice a little colder than before. "Pack bonds don't just break like that, Satomi Ito, as I'm sure you're aware. I hope you won't give me a reason to suspect that there was something amiss in your relations with him, because I have zero tolerance for child abuse and neglect."
He heard a sharp intake of breath, and he darted a quick glance at Brett, whose eyes were wide with shock.
"You dare to imply-"
"I imply nothing, I'm just concerned, and I'm sure you would be too if our roles were reversed," he interrupted her. "You're not Brett's Alpha any longer, but you remain his guardian, and it poses a question how will you treat him from now on. So how about we meet in person and I can judge for myself what kind of a caregiver you are?"
Satomi was silent for a long moment. "You're treading on very thin ice, boy."
He ignored the obvious attempt to rile him up. "If it means ensuring that Brett stays with someone who truly cares about him, I'll take my chances."
"Why do you care so much? Have you seized the opportunity already and snatched him for your own pack?"
"When he's obviously distraught and not thinking clearly? Absolutely not," he denied calmly. "I'm not your enemy, Alpha Ito, and I only have Brett's best interest at heart. Send time and address on this number, and I'll be there. Brett too, if he's up for it."
When he disconnected, he focused on the three teenagers who were watching him with a mix of shock, admiration, apprehension and wonder.
"Wow, that was intense," Mason muttered, sounding reluctantly impressed.
"I wasn't abused or anything, Satomi's not like that," Brett protested. "Where did you even get this idea from?"
Scott looked at the boy closely, trying to gauge his honesty, when the phone in his hand rang again.
"That's Lori, do you want to pick up?" When Brett nodded, he handed him the phone, then steered Liam and Mason a couple of steps away in order to give the boy at least a semblance of privacy.
"I'm sorry Liam, I know we were supposed to spend the afternoon together, but I need to talk to Brett in private, and it might be a long conversation. I'll make it up to you," he promised.
"It's okay, I can't imagine what he must be feeling right now… Do you really think his Alpha wasn't treating him right?" Liam asked in a small voice.
"I don't know, Satomi doesn't seem to be the type, but it's hard to judge someone's character without knowing them personally. But Liam, pack bonds don't just snap like that. If it was some kind of a weird accident, an anomaly, Brett would've reacted differently. He would have called Satomi to explain it and ask her if there was a way to get the bond back, but he didn't. Why?"
Liam looked confused but Mason nodded with understanding.
"Because either he doesn't want it back, or is unsure about it."
"That's my impression as well. So whatever the reason behind all of it is, it was weighing on Brett enough to cause his pack bond to break, and it's not so easily done."
Liam hugged him tightly around the waist. "I don't want to ever lose ours."
"Me neither, pup." he murmured sadly as he returned the hug.
***
If he wasn't still in shock, Brett would've laughed at Lori's bossy tone when she demanded to know where he was and what had happened to him. He suspected that she must have felt some kind of an echo of his packbond breaking, and he wished she hadn't, since he hated to cause her to worry.
"It's complicated," he said reluctantly. "Satomi's not my Alpha any longer, though."
"What?! How? Why? Nevermind that, where are you?"
"Outside, near the parking lot. I'm with Liam, Mason and Scott."
"Scott- like Scott McCall? I knew he was up to no good," she muttered angrily. "Stay where you are, I'm coming."
"Lori-" He cursed when he realized that she'd already hung up. His sister was a sweet girl most of the time, but could be really stubborn and persistent if she wanted to.
When he looked around, he saw Scott embracing Liam, and he suppressed a pang of jealousy at the sight. He didn't know if he was going to be invited into their pack. Scott had said that he had his best interest at heart, but it was a general statement, nothing specific, so Brett was hesitant to count on that. What if he was going to end up as an Omega?
And what about Lori, would she stay in Satomi’s pack if he wasn't going to be there? What was going to happen with them, would they remain as close as they are now? He hoped so, because he didn't want to consider the alternative that they would slowly grow apart.
Notes:
As you can probably tell, Satomi's going to be an ambiguous, flawed character in my story. I've always wondered why we've never got to witness any true parenting moments between Brett, Lori and Satomi in the TV series, or if they were any, I simply don't remember them? So in my story, she's a little neglectful, not on purpose, but rather because she's more of a leader than a loving, doting parent.
I'm curious what you guys think about this development, feel free to drop a comment!
Chapter Text
Contrary to her earlier bold words, when Lori joined them, she looked more shaken and lost than angry. When he explained to her what had happened, her lips trembled as she asked: "What will happen to us now?"
"I don't know," he said, feeling helpless.
How could he have allowed this to happen? It wasn't only his life that was on the line, but also hers, since he was certain neither of them would want to go separate ways. Will they end up as outcast, lone wolves? He'd heard that Omegas had it really tough, since no pack meant no protection. Not to mention, they were still minors. Will Satomi remain their guardian or will she try to put them back up for adoption? He'd heard about the so-called "second-chance" adoptions and he dreaded even thinking about that. If they were taken in by some humans, they'd be forced to hide the fact that they were werewolves, and it would be a nightmare.
He jumped when his phone beeped, and he looked at the message.
"Satomi wants to meet tomorrow in the afternoon, saying that she wants to give everyone the time to cool off," he said numbly. While he appreciated the notion, what was he supposed to do now? He didn't even have a place to stay, since he didn't want to go home and face Satomi, but where else could he spend the night?
He looked uncertainly at Scott, hoping that the Alpha would offer something, anything, but in that moment he realized that it was totally unfair to place all those expectations on the older boy. He might be an Alpha among werewolves, but in the human world he wasn't even considered an adult. Scott was under no obligation to help them, since one comforting gesture didn't suddenly make him responsible for the two of them.
"Don't worry, it's going to be alright," the Alpha's words sounded like a promise, but Brett was hesitant to trust it.
"How can you be so sure?"
Scott patted him on the shoulder. "You're welcome to stay with us, Lori too if she wants to. Let me make some calls, we're currently moving so I need to check if we have a free room at the moment and where."
"The whole pack is moving to one apartment building," Liam explained in a hushed voice while Scott was talking on the phone. "It's gonna be awesome, I can't wait!"
The entire pack? Brett suddenly realized that he knew nothing about the McCall pack, like how large it was or who the members were, and it made him nervous. Just what exactly had he gotten himself into?...
"Alright, Isaac and Allison already moved to the new flat, so that leaves a free room in our old house," Scott announced once he hung up. "You're welcome to stay there for now until a more permanent solution is decided. What do you think?"
"Sounds good," he said, feeling uncomfortable about the whole thing. He hated being a charity case, but he didn't have much choice but to accept it. So while he was genuinely thankful for the offer, he was too embarrassed to properly show it. "Lori, do you want to go with us or go home?"
She bit her lower lip uncertainly, before she straightened her back with a sudden resolve. "Of course I'm coming with you, stupid. Wherever you go, I go."
Her eyes were shining, and he knew that they were thinking the same thing: they were in this together.
***
He'd been apprehensive about meeting with Scott's family, not knowing how they were going to react to two teengers suddenly staying with them, but it turned out that he'd worried needlessly.
"Mom, this is Lori and Brett, they're going to stay with us for now," Scott announced simply once they entered the house.
"Thank you for having us," Lori said timidly.
"Don't mention it, by now I'm quite used to Scott bringing in his friends," Mrs McCall said with a smile. "I know that I should tell you to make yourselves comfortable, but I could really use an extra pair of hands. Would either of you mind helping me with dinner?"
Lori agreed easily and they both disappeared in the kitchen, leaving Brett alone with Scott.
"Can I help with something, too?" He hated feeling useless and he'd rather do something than let himself mope and ponder his current situation.
"Maybe you could help me pack my stuff? I think I'm the only one who hasn't even started."
"Yeah, sure."
They grabbed some bags and boxes from the attic, as well as duct tape and scissors, then went to Scott's room, Brett having been tasked with packing the school stuff.
"I heard from Liam that your pack is moving into one place, how many werewolves are going to live there?" He asked curiously as he started to sort the things on the desk.
"It's not only werewolves, we have humans in the pack too, plus other supernatural creatures," Scott said absentmindedly while looking critically at the contents of his wardrobe.
"Other creatures?" That definitely piqued his interest.
"Let's see, Peter's daughter Malia is a were-coyote, Lydia is a Banshee though she won't be living with us, and Jordan is a Hellhound."
Brett stared at the Alpha, totally dumbfounded. "You're not pulling my leg, are you?" If it was true, then it was the most unique and varied pack Brett had ever heard of.
Scott only sent him a lopsided grin in response.
Once they finished packing the most needed stuff, they started to carry the boxes downstairs to the hallway, where Brett almost walked into a good looking, middle-aged man in a v-neck t-shirt who just entered the house. He had to jump awkwardly to the side to avoid ramming the guy with a box full of books, and almost managed to drop it in shock as he caught the distinct scent of an Alpha werewolf.
"Whoa," The newcomer caught the box with ease just before it tumbled to the floor, then put it down. "Be careful, kid, dropping something this heavy on your toes isn't fun even for werewolves. And who might you be? I don't think we've met before."
"I'm Brett Talbot, sir, from Satomi Ito's- well, I was from Satomi's pack," he corrected himself.
The man's eyebrows raised in surprise for a second, but then his expression smoothed out and he stuck out his hand in greeting.
"Nice to meet you, Brett. I'm Peter Hale, formerly of the Hale pack, and now a secondary Alpha in the McCall pack. But please, call me Peter, everyone does, we're not big on formalities here."
Brett shook the offered hand in a daze. "Secondary Alpha, what does it mean?"
"Scott's the primary Alpha of our combined packs, so he's the big boss here, I'm second to him."
"And you don't mind that he's younger than you?" He blurted, then his eyes widened in horror as he realized that the man could take offense. "I'm sorry, that was rude."
Peter waved away his apologies. "You'll quickly find that where Scott is involved, age is the least important factor."
Brett wanted to drill him about it some more, since the man seemed quite talkative, but at that moment Scott walked down the stairs with a big bag in hands and put it on the floor.
"Did I just hear you talking about me behind my back?"
"Only good things," Peter said smoothly, his eyes shining with mischief. "I leave the bad things to say straight to your face."
Scott snorted, then smacked a quick kiss on the man's cheek. "Sounds like a good policy. Who else is coming to dinner?"
"Just Chris, though he might be late and told me that we should start without him. Isaac, Allison and Malia decided to order pizza at the new place, but I'd choose your mother's homemade cooking over junk food anytime."
"Quite right! I see that you've already met Brett? His sister Lori is with mom in the kitchen, come on, I'll introduce you."
For a second Brett hesitated, not certain if he should follow the Alphas or maybe continue with the packing. Scott seemed to have sensed it, as he put a hand on his back and gently pushed him in the kitchen's direction. It was a simple gesture but felt surprisingly pleasant, and Brett realized that he hadn't been touched as much in a month as he'd been today. Not that he minded it, far from it, especially seeing that Scott was similarly physical with his packmates; instead, it made him hopeful that maybe getting an invite to the McCall pack wasn't such an improbability after all.
***
Dinner was a relaxed and mostly uneventful atfair, not counting the moment when another man had come in and they'd been told that he was a former werewolf hunter. Brett had been doubtful at first if such a change of loyalties was even possible, and how permanent it was, but then he'd gotten a glimpse of the same tattoo on Scott's, Peter's and Chris' arms, and realized that it must be the symbol of the McCall pack, which made the ex-hunter's claim a little more believable. After all, surely Scott wouldn't give his pack's sign to someone he didn't trust.
"So, what's your story, kids?" Peter asked while they were waiting for the dessert - chocolate chip muffins - to cool after baking. "How did you end up under Scott's wings?"
"Peter, don't pry, they don't have to tell us if they don't want to," Mrs McCall chastised him.
"It's okay, it's not a secret or anything. The link with my Alpha broke and I couldn't-" Brett took a deep breath. "I didn't feel ready to go back home."
Peter's expression turned serious. "I'm sorry for your loss, I know what losing a packmate feels like."
Brett blushed, embarrassed because of the misunderstanding. "No, it's not like that, Satomi isn't dead, she's just- My bond with her snapped, she's not my Alpha anymore."
Peter hesitated for a moment before he started speaking, carefully choosing his words. "I knew Satomi, you know, before the fire. She was my sister's friend and visited our house from time to time, though to be honest she's never been my favorite person to be around. She seemed… too reserved and aloof for my tastes, disconnected from everything around her. Is she the same with her pack? With you?"
He nodded weakly, suddenly not trusting his voice.
The hunter, Chris, looked between them without understanding. "What's that got to do with a broken bond?"
"The stronger the emotional connection, the stronger the link between an Alpha and a Beta. If there are no feelings to speak of… well, I'd say maintaining such a bond is so much harder." Scott explained quietly, then took Brett's hand and squeezed it. "You don't have to speak about it if you don't want to. I'm pretty sure that there's a rule that no serious talk is allowed when eating dessert."
"I'm fine, but you're right, I don't want to talk about it. Sorry," he added apologetically.
"Don't be. Now grab a muffin, I've heard that chocolate is a universal medicine to everything," Scott said with a wink, giving his hand one last pat before leaning back on his chair.
Chapter Text
Brett woke up in a foreign bed, in an unfamiliar room, and for a split second his body tensed up until he remembered yesterday's events. Rubbing away sleep from his eyes, he checked the time on his phone and realized that he woke up half an hour earlier than planned. Which wasn't that bad, considering the fact that for once he could spend as much time as he wanted in the bathroom without Lori pounding on the door, complaining that he was taking too long in the shower again - which admittedly he was often guilty of.
He sat up carefully, trying not to wake her up, then grabbed his clothes and a towel and tiptoed to the bathroom. There, he stepped under the shower and closed his eyes, letting the hot, almost scalding water relax his body as much as it was possible without actually solving the situation he and Lori found himself in, meaning being essentially packless and trying to find their footing among a foreign pack. Not that it was all bad and depressive, since Scott had made sure that they felt welcome in his home, but it was a totally new and unexpected situation for all of them.
For a moment he wondered what Satomi would do or say during their afternoon meeting. He didn't know if he'd prefer that she was angry and offended, or cold and uncaring, since both alternatives sucked and would depress him even more than he already was about their packbond snapping like it had. He didn't dare hoping that Satomi would be understanding or even trying to get them to come back home, since less expectations meant a smaller possibility of being disappointed.
When he was drying himself up with a towel, he sensed that someone was waiting at the door. The bathroom was still smelling intensely of shampoo and shower gel, so he couldn't use his sense of smell to figure out who that was, but he could tell that it was a werewolf, so it was either Scott or Peter. He didn't want to anger either of them, so he hurriedly put on his clothes, grimacing at the fact that he was wearing them for two days in a row, then opened the door and saw Peter waiting in the hall.
"Sorry for taking so long," he muttered, embarrassed.
"It's fine, it's usually me hogging the bathroom, so for once I had a taste of my own medicine," Peter winked playfully, then grimaced seing Brett's wrinkled T-shirt. "What's the point of showering if you're wearing dirty clothes? Why don't you ask Scott for fresh ones?"
Seeing his hesitance, Peter rolled his eyes and made a 'go on' gesture with his hand. Encouraged, Brett approached Scott's room and knocked. When he heard a quiet 'come in', he opened the door and stepped inside. Scott was sitting on his bed with a duvet still wrapped loosely around his midsection, covering a yawn with his hand.
"Hi, could I borrow some clothes from you? Peter hasn't been impressed with my looks," he said sheepishly.
Scott snorted. "Peter is rarely impressed with anybody's looks beside his own, Chris' or my mom's, but sure, no problem. I think I left a couple when packing my stuff yesterday."
As the Alpha started to rummage in his drawers, Brett considered him thoughtfully. At the first glance, Scott seemed like an average teenager, but the more Brett learned about him and witnessed how others were acting around him, the more he was convinced that the older boy was a perfect example why one shouldn't judge a book by its cover.
"Will you agree to be my Alpha?" He blurted out, wanting to know where they stood.
Scott turned around, his face apologetic, and Brett knew instantly that he was going to be rejected, so he clenched his jaw angrily, though he was more mad at himself for voicing his hopes out loud than at Scott.
"Nevermind, I'll ask someone else." He didn't know anyone from other packs, but he'd figure something out… He had to.
"Brett, I'd love to, I really would-"
"But you won't," he said quietly. "It's okay, I understand, you didn't ask to be saddled with two kids you barely know. It was stupid of me to ask."
Scott shook his head. "It's not like that. There are two reasons why it's not a good idea. The first is that - well, let's just say that I'm in some trouble and I don't want to take on any additional responsibilities if there's a chance I might get killed. You don't deserve to lose another Alpha, especially so soon."
Brett was stunned, this sounded like serious trouble. "But- Why did you bite Liam, then? Does he know?"
"Yes, he does, I made sure that he knew all the facts before deciding to become a werewolf." Scott was silent for a moment. "But even if you'd accept that risk, the other reason why me becoming your Alpha isn't the best idea is that if Satomi wouldn't want to act as your guardian anymore, you'd need an adult to take her place, and I can't do that."
That made a lot of sense, and Brett fidgeted, embarrassed. "Sorry, I just assumed…"
"That I don't want you and Lori in my pack? Why would you even think that?"
Brett looked away, suddenly not able to meet Scott's warm, empathetic gaze. "We're orphans, with no skills or assets to speak of. We're not exactly a prize," he said bitterly.
Scott huffed. "Sorry, but that's bullshit. Any Alpha would be lucky to have you."
Brett wished that it was the case, but he knew from experience that it wasn't.
"Then why after our parents died we were put in an orphanage for a couple of weeks before Satomi took us in? No one else showed up, even to ask how we're doing, much less to adopt us. It's always been like that, every pack fending for themselves." He tried not to be bitter about it, but it was hard, since even after all these years he still remembered the feeling of being unwanted and worthless as each day in an orphanage had sucked hope out of him.
"This needs to change, then," Scott smelled of sadness, anger and grim determination as he said this. "Werewolves need to take care of each other, because otherwise we're making it easier for hunters to target us. You're not going to end up as Omega, and even if I'm not going to be your Alpha, there are other Alphas in my pack you could choose from."
"Are you sure they'd agree?" He hated how needy he sounded, how small his voice was. He was stronger than this, he reminded himself, he didn't need anyone beside Lori, they could take care of each other, they didn't need anybody else-
"I'm sure."
The calm certainty in Scott's voice assured him that it wasn't just an empty promise, and he exhaled with relief that he and Lori wouldn't need to rely only on themselves, after all. Maybe they could even be happy, here?... Hesitantly, he allowed himself to hope.
***
Since Scott had classes in the morning, Peter offered to give the new kids a lift to their school.
"We don't want to be a bother," Lori said shyly, looking at him with her huge hazel eyes which instantly made him melt on the inside.
"Believe me, sunshine, I have literally nothing better to do since my daughter told me that she doesn't need constant supervision, and even if I did, Melissa or Chris would take you instead," he said as he grabbed the keys to his car and ushered the kids outside.
Lori blushed at being called 'sunshine' but seemed quite pleased. "Your daughter, what age is she?"
"Fifteen, so a year younger than Scott. Currently she's a bossy little thing with no social filter, saying to the whole pack things she should be keeping to herself," he muttered while Lori giggled.
"I didn't know that you had a daughter, or that she survived the fire," Brett said, then clasped his hand on his mouth. "I'm sorry! That was totally out of line."
A reminder of how he'd lost almost his entire family wasn't pleasant, but he couldn't fault the boy for his curiosity. "It's fine, it must be confusing without knowing all the facts. Hop on the backseats and I'll tell you that story while driving."
The kids listened avidly as he explained how his late sister had taken away his memories of his daughter's existence and put her for an adoption, then about that fateful full moon when Malia had transformed into a were-coyote and spent almost six years in the woods. He didn't mention that she'd killed her adoptive family that night, though, since he figured out that it wasn't his place to tell.
"Wow," Brett looked stunned. "I promise not to complain about our situation ever again."
Peter parked the car and turned around so that he could look at the boy. "It's not really comparable. Everyone's circumstances are different and just because someone had it worse than you doesn't mean you're not allowed to hope for a better life too."
Brett nodded mutely, but still looked dejected as he got out of the car, so Peter wrapped his arms loosely around the kids' shoulders, wanting to comfort them without making them feel crowded. When he felt Lori's back stiffening, he took his arms back, but the girl clutched at him, alarmed.
"I can sense Satomi, she's close."
He blinked, surprised. "I thought she wanted to meet in the afternoon?"
"That's what she said in her message," Brett confirmed with a frown. "What do we do?"
Peter smiled dangerously, showing off his teeth. "If Satomi thinks she can mess with a Hale, she's got another thing coming."
A minute later, Lori pointed at a car which just parked nearby. "It's hers."
When Satomi approached them and saw Peter standing with the kids, her stony expression fell for a second and showed a total surprise before she regained her composure.
"Peter Hale, what a surprise. I didn't expect to find Talia's little brother here. I thought that you were in a coma?"
"There's this funny detail about comas, people often wake up from them," he deadpanned. "Not that I recall you ever visiting me in the nursing home, so I guess it means that your friendship with my sister didn't extend to the rest of the family." There was an awkward silence after his words, so after a moment he shook his head. "It doesn't matter, I didn't come here for you but because the kids needed a lift to school. Not that you cared to check if they had a place to sleep last night."
That seemed to have struck a nerve, as Satomi straightened.
"They could've asked anyone from their pack to spend a night at their place. They're not little children anymore, they don't need to be hand held and fussed over as if they were infants."
"If you really think that, then I'm starting to understand why your pack bond with Brett has snapped," he commented snidely, and gave himself a mental high five when Satomi winced.
"That is none of your business. Why are you here anyway? I thought it was that McCall boy who's messing with my pack, and I was willing to overlook it since he's so young and inexperienced, but you must know that poking your nose into my pack's matters is not acceptable."
He could sense the Alpha power in Satomi rising to the surface, but he wasn't a Beta anymore to be still intimidated by it, so he grinned instead.
"It seems that your isolationism doesn't serve you well, after all. McCall and Hale packs have merged under Scott's leadership, and we have an open door policy, meaning that any werewolf can seek a refuge or a home with us. So if Lori and Brett wish to become a part of our pack, they are welcome to do so."
Satomi's eyes opened widely. "Lori, Brett, please tell me that you're not seriously considering this."
"We are," Brett said quietly, his eyes boring into Satomi's face. "Unless you can honestly say that you love us and want us to be a real family."
The silence that followed his statement was almost deafening.
"I guess that means 'no'," the boy snapped, his eyes welling up with tears.
Satomi sighed heavily. "I do care about you and your sister, but you can't expect any special treatment from me, since it wouldn't be fair for the rest of the pack."
"You were not only our Alpha, you were supposed to be our parent too, how is that special treatment?" Brett asked bitterly. "So what, you expect us to just… suck it up, is that it?"
"I want you to finally grow up and accept things as they are," was Satomi's response, and Peter winced hearing it, even though they weren't addressed to him.
"That's enough," he growled. "They're just fourteen, for fucks sake, kids their age still need their parents, even more than they know. So if you can't give them the affection they deserve, the least you could do is to allow them to find someone who can."
"And you think you can be that person?" Satomi asked condescendingly.
"If this is what they want, yes I can."
Chapter Text
Satomi scoffed. "You barely even know them. And what's worse, they barely know you. Tell me, who did you have to kill for that Alpha spark of yours?" It was Peter who winced this time, and as if she was a shark sensing blood in the water, she pressed even more. "You accuse me of not acting like a friend to your family, but at least I didn't do them any harm. Can you honestly say the same? Why are you the Alpha and not Laura, did you kill her just to absorb her power?"
He met Satomi's accusing stare square on. "It's the curse of our kind, isn't it, that we need to kill in order to lead. You too are guilty of that, no matter how saintly you're trying to paint yourself. So yes, I've done some terrible things that I can't take back, but I've been trying to atone for them ever since. Isn't it the same that you've been doing after the massacre in Camp Oak Creek?"
Satomi blanched. "How do you know about that?"
"I know that you have innocent blood on your hands, same as I do. So don't you dare judge me, since the only people that can do that are my family and my leader, and you are neither," he said acidly.
"Stop it!" Brett said loudly, and they both turned to him in surprise. "Just stop it! Yes, we know how one becomes an Alpha, and it sucks, but it's nothing new. So take your pissing match elsewhere, we have classes to go to." He grabbed Lori's hand and marched away, not looking back.
Peter turned to Satomi. "Are you happy now?"
"Are you?" She didn't look impressed with him, and he sighed.
"Look, Brett's right. It's not about us, it's about them. We should be focusing on ensuring that they have a supportive environment to grow up in, but all we're doing is throwing accusations at each other."
"You're saying that we've handled this poorly."
He considered her carefully guarded expression and complete lack of any chemosignals, and guessed that she had suppressed them on purpose. What was she hiding, he wondered, anger, regret, or maybe glee at managing to turn the kids against him?
"That's exactly what I'm saying. Why did you come here anyway, couldn't you give Brett space till afternoon?"
"I wanted to make sure he wasn't being manipulated," Satomi's eyes narrowed. "So I'm going to ask you straight out: what's your angle? Why did you get involved in this?"
He gazed thoughtfully at the teens' retreating backs as they entered the school, then looked back at Satomi.
"Have you ever wondered what it's like to lose six years of your life while the world went on without you? Derek's a grown man now, and he's even more grumpy and sullen than he was as a kid, but he's also brave and loyal to a fault. Despite all the shit that he's been through, he's turned out better than I'd have expected, and I can't even take credit for that since I wasn't there. Brett and Lori, on the other hand? I can still offer them something. Don't sabotage it just because we don't see eye to eye on things."
Her unrelenting stance didn't bulge even an inch. "You didn't answer my question. What happened to Laura?"
"Your hunch was correct, I killed her for her Alpha power," he said calmly, though inside he was aching with regret. "It was wrong, and I would take it back if I could. Not to mention, I wasn't ready to be an Alpha, until Scott taught me how to be one."
Her brow furrowed. "How could a teenage boy have taught you anything?"
"I guess you'll have to wait and find out for yourself. Today, four PM, let's meet as planned," he turned and got back to his car, so she had no choice but to do the same and walk back to hers.
He didn't start to drive, though, his mind still unsettled. He kept thinking about the whole conversation over and over again, wondering how he could convince Brett and Lori to join his pack now, before he realized that maybe he shouldn't, that he needed to let them make up their own minds without putting pressure on them. He still needed them to know that he was still very much on board with it if they were too.
Decision made, he stepped out of the car and followed the kids' scent, hoping to catch them before the bell rang. To his surprise the scent trail led him through the school corridor and then outside, to lacrosse pitch, where he saw Brett and Lori sitting on the stands, huddled together.
"Ditching classes, are you now?" He asked as he walked up to them.
The boy stood up, folding his arms across his chest and looking back at him rebelliously. "I don't see why you care."
"You were right, Satomi and I shouldn't have argued in front of you, but it's not an excuse to act rudely," he rebuked the boy, trying to say it sternly but at the same time calmly enough to avoid alienating him.
For a moment Brett looked as if he wanted to talk back, but then he ducked his head. "Sorry, I didn't mean- I don't want you to think that I'm more trouble than I'm worth."
Peter snorted. "That's what people were saying about me when I was your age. And for the record, I can take some sass, especially when you have a reason for it. It's not very productive, though, and doesn't help any, so it might be a better idea to drop the attitude and just talk," he sat down on the bench in front of Lori.
"Sorry," Brett mumbled again, sitting down as well but avoiding his eyes.
"It's okay, no harm done," he said lightly, wanting to put the boy at ease. "The situation you've found yourself in, it must be tough, since you need to find an Alpha you could trust with your and your sister's wellbeing, but the problem is that most Alphas are killers by definition. It's not easy to trust someone, knowing that."
"Did you really kill your niece?" Lori asked quietly, playing with the hem of her blouse nervously.
He rubbed his chin with his thumb, thinking. Would Scott mind if he told the kids the full story? If they were expected to join the pack, they needed to know this, they couldn't make the decision blindly.
"It's… complicated. But before I tell you, you need to promise me that you won't reveal this to anyone else. It's as much my story as it is Scott's, and I won't put him at risk by revealing the truth to someone who can't keep a secret."
"We promise, we would never put Scott in danger," Brett said vehemently. "Right, Lori?" The girl nodded.
He took a deep breath, hoping that after hearing what he'd done, the kids would still be able to trust him. "After I woke up from a coma, I was half-mad and driven by my thirst for power and revenge. I told myself that killing Laura was an acceptable cost, that becoming an Alpha was worth it, so I did it, without revelling in it but without any regret either," he said bluntly, watching as the kids' eyes widened in shock. "Afterwards I was confronted by Scott and my nephew, Derek. Scott entered my mind and healed it of pain and madness, but I still attacked him afterwards. Scott was too strong for me, though, and because of my complete lack of control he declared me unfit to be an Alpha. Then, he took the power I gained from killing Laura and transferred it into Derek."
"Wait, that's not possible!" Brett exclaimed, then added with less certainty: "Is it?"
"I don't know anyone else but Scott with this ability, that's why I said that if this information leaked outside of the pack, it would endanger him. Imagine all the Alphas out there learning of someone who could take their power away, just like that."
"They would feel threatened," Brett whispered, realization dawning on him.
He nodded. "Exactly. It doesn't matter that Scott wouldn't do such a thing unless they abused their power like I did, they would perceive him as a threat anyway, maybe even try to kill him."
"But now you're an Alpha and Derek is a Beta, so does it mean that Scott transferred it back?"
He shook his head. "No, Derek lost his Alpha powers while healing Chris' daughter Allison after she was shot by a hunter. I gained the Alpha spark from Ennis who was a member of the Alpha pack, the prick was bragging about biting a teenage girl who had died because of it. Scott took the Alpha powers from him as a punishment, and gave it to me."
The kids looked stunned for a moment, and he couldn't blame them.
"Is this why Scott said that he's in trouble? Did the Alpha Pack target him?" Brett asked, looking worried.
"No, he's already fought with them and won. Our packs are allied now, Scott is even dating Deucalion, much as it pained Mellisa, since for a really long time she couldn't stand the guy." The kids stared at him, dumbfounded, and he snorted. "Hey, don't look at me like that, it's the truth, you can ask Scott if you like. The reason why I told you all of this is because I want you to understand the huge influence he has on everyone around him. Before I met him, I was far from being a good person, but now… Let's just say that letting Scott down is not an option for me."
Brett looked thoughtful for a moment. "So what you're saying is that the reason why we should trust you is because Scott does?"
Clever boy, Peter thought to himself approvingly. "In a nutshell, yes. You're not in any danger from me, if this is what you're worried about."
The teens shared a look, communicating silently.
"Thank you for telling us the truth, but… Could you leave us alone, please? We need some time to think about- well, everything," Brett said tentatively, as if expecting him to get angry.
He wasn't. He knew that he should give them some space, since it was a lot to take in and they needed time to digest everything they'd been told.
"Sure, but before I go, give me your phone for a second."
The boy looked at him, surprised, but gave him the phone with only a slight hesitation. Peter quickly typed his own number and gave himself a miss call, then handed the phone back.
"If you need something, anything, just call me, alright? And I don't mean just today, but in general."
Brett's face was carefully neutral as he asked: "Even if we decide not to join your pack?"
"Even then," he confirmed. "With Scott in the picture, the lines between packs are blurred, so I don't need to be your Alpha to care about what happens to you. Also, just so you know, we're still meeting with Satomi in the afternoon, so feel free to join us if you're feeling up for it."
He turned around and went back to his car, then drove home. He had done everything he could to make sure the kids felt safer around him, but the decision was out of his hands now, all he could do now was wait.
***
Brett stared at Peter's retreating back before he looked at Lori.
"What do you think?"
"He seemed to be honest," she admitted reluctantly. "He didn't try to sugarcoat the truth or suppress his chemosignals as if he had something to hide."
Brett nodded slowly. He had the same impression, he could sense Peter's regret when the man had been talking about killing his niece, or his admiration every time Scott was mentioned. But was it enough to make them a pack, a family? It was hard to tell so soon, but there was a part of him that enjoyed Peter's attention. It was surprisingly easy to talk with the man, and as much as he was grateful to Satomi for adopting Lori and him, he'd never felt a similar rapport with her.
Chapter 176
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
While Brett was thankful for Scott's and Peter's attempts to shield him, there was a part of him that needed a closure of some kind and wanted to face Satomi on his own. All this uncertainty was bothering him like a loose baby tooth hanging on a small bit of flesh and he decided that now was the time to pull it, that's why he'd texted Satomi to come a few minutes earlier to the abandoned distillery so that they could talk, just the three of them.
"You know that I'm gonna go with you whatever you decide, right? But just think about it, would it be really so bad to stay with Satomi?" Lori looked up, stopping nervously picking the skin on her fingers for a moment. It was a bad habit that she'd been trying to break for years with mixed results, but she'd been doing well these last few weeks, and the sight of her reddened thumbs made him feel guilty for causing her to fall back into it.
He groaned and hid his face in his hands. "I can't."
"But why? Was it really that awful?"
“You know what living with her was like. She was away most of the time, taking care of pack matters or whatever, and even when she was back home she wasn't much interested in what was going on with us. It was as if she had this idealized image of helping two orphans, but it didn't involve actually raising us or doing everyday stuff together... Maybe it's just me, maybe it was different with you because you had more things to bond over with her, but I never really knew how to talk with her." He would have said more but then he heard approaching footsteps and looked up, only to see Satomi walking through the doors, and he stifled a curse. He didn't want her to overhear his conversation with Lori, but apparently it was too late for that.
"So our link broke because you were feeling misunderstood? I'm pretty sure most teenagers feel the same when they're your age, but it doesn't mean that they all run away from home," she commented, and her controlled, almost emotionless face was almost too much for him to bear.
"I didn't run away," he protested, because the accusation really stung him. It's not like this was some kind of a teenage rebellion, and her indifference made him feel even worse than before. "And even if I did, what did you do to make me want to go back?"
Satomi raised her eyebrow. "I wasn't aware I had to do anything. What do you expect me to say, ask you to come back? Say that you still have a place in my pack? I thought that was obvious."
It felt as if there was a lump in his throat as he choked up: "No, it wasn't."
Could it be the moment he'd been waiting for for so long, a proof that she truly cared? That he wasn't just being tolerated, but actually wanted?
"Of course you are welcome to come back, I'm not so heartless to turn away a werewolf in need." She said this if it made her some kind of a hero, and he had to look away, blinking furiously as his eyes stung with hot tears.
A werewolf in need, that's all that he was to her, what he'd always been... He'd been a fool to believe that could ever change.
"Why are you so distressed now?" Satomi's cool, composed demeanor cracked the tiniest bit and he could hear the exasperation mixed with uncertainty in her voice. "I've just told you that you can come home. Isn't it what you wanted?"
Not like this, he thought bitterly as the residual pain of their broken bond returned with vengeance. His head throbbed and he could feel perspiration gathering on his brow even though he was suddenly feeling colder than ever before. He threw his head back and let out a muffled, distressed roar. Satomi just stood there, stupefied, while Lori took his hand and gasped.
"You're freezing!"
He didn't get to reply as two roars answered him from the outside and a moment later Scott and Peter ran into the building, stopping for a second at the door at the sight of him, flushed and shaking at the same time.
"Do you know what's happening to him?" Lori asked, panicked. "He's so cold!"
It was Peter who approached them first, taking his other hand and holding it for a moment between his palms, as if analyzing the symptoms that way. "Brett's strength is leaking from him, he's started becoming an Omega."
He clenched his jaw tightly, trying to put on a brave front but feeling anything but. "Can this be stopped? I mean, without me becoming anyone's Beta?"
Peter first shook his head apologetically, but then turned to Scott, who nodded at the unspoken question. "Actually, there is, but it's not common, since it requires having an anchor so strong that it would mimic the effect of a pack bond."
Brett laughed humorlessly. "I don't feel anchored at all, so there's no chance of that happening."
Peter let go of his hand and clasped his arms instead. "My offer still stands, if you want it."
"I'm seriously considering it, I really am, but this is all so- so-" He stuttered nervously.
The man gave him a crooked smile. "Daunting? Unexpected? Overwhelming?"
"Yeah."
"You won't become an Omega overnight, and even then you'll still be welcome to join us. The offer doesn't have an expiry date, so no need to rush it, kid."
He breathed a little easier, knowing that Peter understood and wasn't angry with him for not accepting the offer to join his pack straight away. He was still feeling cold and weakened, but the pain dulled to a faint throbbing in the back of his mind, and he took a few deep breaths to relax his cramped muscles.
After a moment the silence was broken by Scott clearing his throat and nodding towards Satomi. "Alpha Ito."
"So you are Scott McCall, the teen Alpha who somehow managed to secure an alliance with the Hales… I'm curious though, what did you offer them in return?"
Scott bore her scrutinizing look with polite indifference. "I could say that it's none of your business, but the truth is that it all happened naturally. This was not a trade, we simply grew to care for each other. Peter especially had been without a pack for much too long, and it was taking its toll on him."
She snorted, unconvinced. "So you're saying that Peter Hale, the power hungry opportunist that I've known him to be, joined you simply because he was feeling lonely? I'm a buddhist, but it doesn't mean that I'm stupid. Or maybe you are too young and naive to realize that you're being used."
Peter growled lowly, but Scott raised his hand and the man immediately fell silent. Brett could only stare in wonder, because while Peter had mentioned that he considered himself second to Scott, hearing it and witnessing it were two entirely different things.
"The day Peter and I met, he attacked me. Now, I'd trust him with my life. We've come a long way, and since you weren't there to witness it, I must ask you to refrain from voicing baseless opinions," though Scott said this quietly, somehow his voice effortlessly filled the entire space inside the distillery. "Besides, this meeting isn't about me, it's about Brett, this is what we should focus on."
"I've already told him that he's allowed to come back home. I can also work on being more engaged, if this is what he needs," she offered magnanimously, and Brett hated it, that she would do this as some kind of a favor.
"That's good, right?" Lori asked, looking uncertainly between them.
He grimaced. "No, it's not, I'm not a project to be worked on! Or are we meant to be grateful that you're finally willing to try to be the parent you should've been all along?" He asked Satomi.
"Some gratefulness wouldn't go amiss," she retorted coldly.
"You took us in when no one else was willing to and we appreciate that, we really do, but other kids don't have to thank their parents for their care, it's-" He gasped suddenly as his body was wracked with another wave of pain and his strength was being siphoned off from him. His knees went weak and he would've fallen to the ground if it wasn't for Peter's strong grip keeping him upright.
"I'm sorry that I couldn’t give you what you need," this time Satomi sounded truly apologetic. "Perhaps I'm not cut out to be a parent, but I honestly thought that being raised among werewolves would be better for you both than an orphanage."
"It was. And we are grateful," Lori assured her quickly. "But maybe it's time to just- let us go?"
Satomi replied something, but Brett didn't really catch that as his head was pounding something awful. He sagged bonelessly against Peter, pressing his fevered forehead into the man's chest.
"It hurts," he gasped. "It hurts so fucking much…"
In response, Peter placed a hand on the bare skin above his wrist and black lines started to flow up the Alpha's forearm. For a while the only sound that could be heard in the room was Brett's labored, ragged breathing as the physical pain dulled to a tolerable level, but the mental pain remained the same. In that moment he knew that he couldn't let this progress too far, he couldn't allow himself to become an Omega.
"Peter, could you- Can I talk with you alone for a moment? Please?"
"Of course."
His head was still buried in the man's chest, but he could hear everyone leaving. Lori squeezed his arm encouragingly on her way out as she continued to talk with Satomi in a quiet voice, and Scott patted him on the back lightly, saying that they'll be waiting outside in the woods, and that he should take as much time as he needed.
When he was finally alone with Peter, he realized that his mind was suddenly empty and he didn't quite know what to say. 'I know that we've known each other for less than two days, but please love me?' It was ridiculous, laughable even. He was an orphan, and soon he'll be an Omega on top of that, so why would anyone truly want him?
After a long moment, it was Peter who broke the silence: "About me becoming your Alpha, what are you most afraid of?"
"Being a charity case, or even worse, a burden. Disappointing you, not meeting your expectations." He clenched his eyes shut, as if by doing so he could make himself disappear.
In response, Peter hugged him even closer. "As long as we're being open and honest with each other, we should be fine. And you could never be a burden, I promise."
He exhaled slowly. "Also, I'm afraid that I'm not- that we won't really matter to you," he added hesitantly. "You don't know us, so how can I expect you to suddenly care about me and Lori…"
"Foolish child," Peter murmured softly into his hair. "I wouldn't offer you and your sister a place in my pack if I didn't care."
Hearing that, Brett felt his body relaxing, because even if Peter wouldn't be a perfect Alpha, the mere fact that the man genuinely wanted him in his pack made him feel welcome, as if he finally found a place where he belonged.
Notes:
Yup, meetings at the distillery are a thing once again :D
Chapter 177
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Once Brett started feeling a little better, the matter of the siblings' guardianship came up. Peter suggested that Satomi could give him a wide-range power of attorney to represent the kids in all matters until they came of age, rather than go the more complicated route of going to the court with the re-adoption. No one wanted the child care authorities to get involved and start asking questions why after years of what seemed like a successful adoption the kids suddenly needed a guardian change.
Satomi agreed to sign the POA for Peter, but only under one condition - she wanted to meet their combined pack, explaining that she needed to know what kind of people they were, if the kids would be safe with them. Which is why they all agreed to meet again on Sunday afternoon.
For Scott, the time was perfect since he didn't have to cancel his swimming lessons with Matt in the morning. As usual, Lydia had agreed to let them use her swimming pool for practice and retreated to the house to give them some privacy. That's why he was currently sitting at the edge of the pool, feet dangling in the water, observing Matt who was floating on the water with his eyes closed and arms spread wide, a far cry from the nervous wreck he'd been when they'd first started their lessons a couple of weeks ago.
"Hey, weren't you supposed to teach me how to swim?" Matt asked.
He chuckled. "I am teaching you. Learning how to relax in the water is the middle step between being utterly terrified of drowning and becoming a world-class swimmer."
Matt opened his eyes so that he could give him an unimpressed eye roll. "Pfft, excuses. I've learned to float already, so move your lazy ass and teach me how to swim on my stomach without getting my lungs full of water."
Scott snorted but jumped into the water obligingly. He'd actually been waiting for this moment when Matt would take the initiative and ask to be taught rather than passively accept it in order to keep his end of bargain.
"Alright, so what you should be avoiding is holding your breath underwater without exhaling, and abruptly taking your head out of the water to breathe," he instructed.
Matt squinted at him suspiciously. "You do realize that I need to breathe, right?"
"Well yeah, but it's all about technique," he explained. "Don't jerk your head up, but rather tilt your face to the side during the stroke so that you can take a breath while still keeping your head in the water. Why don't you try it?"
The first attempt was a complete failure, as immediately after Matt's mouth and nose were covered with water, the teen started to trash in panic and Scott had to grab him and haul him upwards so that he could stand firmly on his feet.
"Hey, it's the shallow end, you're not gonna drown here."
Matt gave him an evil eye. "I know, I'm not stupid, but it's an instinct. It's not like I've consciously decided to panic, it just happens."
He hummed thoughtfully. "Hm, why don't we try something different? Don't attempt to swim just yet but keep your feet on the bottom, take a deep breath, submerge your head in the water and exhale slowly. Once you've exhaled completely, emerge above the surface to take a breath, then repeat the exercise, that way you'll get used to the feeling of having your mouth and nose covered with water. I'll do it with you. Ready?"
Slowly, they both submerged in the water and Matt grabbed his hand in what would be a bruising grip if Scott was an actual human. Thankfully, he wasn't, so he let himself be used as a stress reliever without complaining, and when he saw that the bubbles around Matt's head started to disappear, he gave the boy thumbs up and prompted him to go above the water.
"Alright?"
"Yeah," Matt said a little breathlessly, his eyes just the tiniest bit too wide, but overall he seemed to be doing fine.
Half an hour later, once Matt got the hang of exhaling underwater and managed a somewhat passable if very short attempt at swimming, they walked out of the water and started to dry themselves with towels.
"Can I ask you something?" the teen asked him suddenly, so Scott nodded. "And just be honest, I can handle the truth - you don't like me very much, do you?"
"I like you better now than before," he admitted.
"But why? What changed?"
"Not threatening my family with a gun definitely helped," he deadpanned. "But it's not only that, you're not acting as if you're the only one who's ever had a bad experience, so that's a huge improvement, and you've finally started to consider how your actions affect others. So as long as you won't get back to being a self-centered brat you once were, we're going to get along just fine," he added jokingly, and winked at the boy to soften his words a little.
Matt grimaced. "I was awful, wasn't I? No, don't answer that, I know that I was. It's just- I was looking at all those people simply going on with their lives like it was the easiest thing in the world… I remember thinking that none of them had gone through a near death experience, and I kept asking myself: why had it happened to me and not them? How was that fair? Stupid question, I know, but this was what was going on in my head back then."
"Everyone's situation is different, but you can bet that everybody has their own problems, some people are just better at dealing with them, and some are simply used to hiding that something's bothering them. You were hiding your issues for years, others do exactly the same," he said gently. "It's not something I'd recommend, though, there are better coping mechanisms."
Matt flopped on the sun lounger and stared at the sky for a long moment. "My dad got a job offer in LA and my parents are considering moving there. They think that a change of surroundings would be good for me."
"And what do you think?" He asked as he grabbed a folding chair for himself and sat down facing Matt.
"It's tempting to have a fresh start, another chance to start everything again. But a new place, a new school… There's always a risk that I won't fit in."
"It's not going to be easy at first, but you're gonna be fine. You're really a better person than you were when I first met you," he didn't mention that he actually meant a different timeline. "Do you still want to have your memory of that nearly drowning wiped before you leave?"
Matt frowned. "I don't know. Sure, it'll be easier that way, but I'm kinda proud that I've finally started to overcome my fear. So if I decide to forget what had happened to me in the first place, wouldn't it make the whole struggle pointless?"
Seeing that Lydia was just opening the patio doors, Scott decided to close the subject for the time being.
"That's entirely up to you, so take your time and just let me know once you've decided," he said and patted the boy on the knee. "We'll talk later, okay?"
Matt nodded, and a moment later Lydia marched up to them and shoved a folded newspaper to Scott's lap. "Page three, mysterious group suicide of wild animals. Sounds familiar?"
He unfolded it, scanned the text quickly and cursed. It seemed that the news of the Alpha Pack being in Beacon Hills had reached Jennifer's ears (or Julia's, rather, since he couldn't be sure if she was using the same alias as before). He wondered if she was still on her quest to kill Deucalion and his pack, but what he knew for sure is that he couldn't let her complete her mission, or murder innocent people along the way.
"What's going on?" Matt's eyes darted nervously between the two of them.
He scratched his neck awkwardly. "Um, are you a virgin?"
"Whoa- Seriously? What the fuck, man, why would you even ask me this?" Matt glared at him.
"There's this druid out there hell bent on human sacrifice and her first victims are going to be virgins," he explained, before a thought came to him. "Actually, I don't know if she's going to start with virgins this time, so if the order doesn't matter, she might as well start with guardians slash parents, so… Moving to LA might not be such a bad idea for you guys."
Matt stared at him, gobsmacked, so he smiled crookedly.
"The supernatural world isn't all sunshine and rainbows, you know," he added. "There is some pretty messed up stuff in there too, but we're working on it."
He was determined to stop Julia much earlier this time around, but he couldn't rule out the possibility that she'll kill someone before they manage to find her. There was only one month of school left, so it was doubtful that she'd be hired as a teacher as before, that's why he needed to come up with a way to find her before she hurts someone and starts accumulating power through the human sacrifices, again.
***
He was riding a bike on his way home, his mind still in turmoil, when he heard a loud, vaguely familiar voice calling: "Hey kid, come here!"
He quickly looked in that direction, only to see Mr Lahey waving at him. It was quite an unpleasant surprise, but he couldn't simply ignore the man without learning what he wanted, so with reluctance he stopped his bike in front of him.
Up close, it was obvious that the man wasn't in the best shape. When once he'd had a muscular body, he now sported a pot belly, looked like he hadn't shaved in quite a while, and stank of stale alcohol and old sweat.
"You're the kid who turned my son against me, aren't ya?" Mr Lahey slurred.
"Wrong, you did that all by yourself with your actions. Now what do you want?" He asked brusquely, not in a mood for chit chat, especially not with this man. "And before you ask, Isaac won't be living with you ever again, so don't bother asking."
Mr Lahey's face reddened with fury. "He's still my son, I've the right to see him!"
"No, you don't, you've forfeited that right when you started to abuse him," he said coldly. "Why would you even want to see him, to beat him up again, or tell him that he's worthless? You've done enough damage, Isaac's better off without you."
The man's shoulders slumped with defeat. "I only wanted him to toughen up, y'know? I didn't want him to grow up to be a pansy."
He scoffed. "So hurting him and making him miserable was for his own good, is that what you're trying to say? That's a shitty excuse, and if it's all that you've got to say, I'm going home," he grabbed the handles and put his foot on the pedal.
"No, wait! Tell Isaac- Tell him that I want to talk to him," Mr Lahey demanded.
"I will, but not because I give a damn about what you want, I only care about Isaac. If he wants to meet with you, that's fine, but if he doesn't, stay the hell away from him, you got that?"
The man clenched his fists tightly, smelling of anger and frustration. It made Scott grin, a too wide smile full of teeth - human ones, unfortunately, but he couldn't risk exposure for petty revenge.
"If you want to punch me, don't think for a second that I won't retaliate, because I will, just give me an excuse," seeing that Mr Lahey hesitated, he snorted. "That's right, you won't, because like every bully you'd rather beat up people who can't defend or stand up for themselves. Well guess what, I'm not afraid of you, so if Isaac agrees to meet with you, you can bet that I'll be close to make sure that he doesn’t get hurt again."
He didn't give the man the chance to reply as he started to ride away, not looking back even once.
Notes:
Let's add Darach to the mix and stir for good measure 😋
Chapter 178
Notes:
Hi, FYI, I borrowed a quote from Altered Carbon and tweaked it a little to fit with this story. It's from the scene when Quellchrist Falconer is training the Envoys about the weakness of weapons which is just awesome and EPIC! Ever since I saw it, I knew it would fit perfectly with Teen Wolf.
For those of you who haven't watched Altered Carbon yet, it's a sci-fi mixed with dystopia mixed with crime story. If it sounds like your cup of tea, give it a shot!
Chapter Text
Considering that they had the meeting with Satomi's pack to take care of, Scott had decided not to tell Isaac about the encounter with the boy's father just yet. And honestly, with Jennifer back in the town, that man wasn't a priority for him in any shape or form.
The meeting hadn't officially started yet as more people were joining them in a clearing in the woods that was Hale private property. The general mood had been amicable enough, at least up until Deucalion and the twins showed up, causing a stir among Satomi's pack. Half of them seemed scared while the other half looked angry and agitated, with Satomi leaning more towards the second group.
"I should have known that you were behind the sudden expansion of a previously unknown pack," she said the moment Deucalion joined them. "Was this your plan all along, to make Scott your puppet, talk him into growing his pack and then into killing them all?"
"You are under the wrong impression that I'm the master puppeteer here, or that I have some nefarious, hidden agenda," Deucalion drawled, his signature sunglasses hiding his eyes from view.
Satomi snorted. "Don't you always?"
"No, not since I've joined Scott."
"I wonder what he did to make such a huge impression on you? Recently I've been hearing a lot of how wonderful Scott McCall is, but honestly I haven't seen anything yet that would prove it. What's so special about him?"
Scott wasn't ecstatic to be talked about as if he wasn't there, but as long as Satomi seemed willing to talk, he wasn't going to complain. Meanwhile, Deucalion slowly took his sunglasses off, then looked straight at Satomi without uttering a single word.
For a long moment she stared into his blue, undamaged eyes. "How…?" she whispered, shocked.
"Scott healed my eyes, but also taught me a very valuable lesson."
"And what is that?" She demanded.
"That kindness and strength are not mutually exclusive, and I don't have to sacrifice one to obtain the other.”
Satomi watched him thoughtfully for a moment. "Or this could be yet another of your schemes, but let's say that I'll take your words at face value, at least for the time being. Shall we proceed?"
Deucalion looked at him expectantly and Scott nodded with acquiescence.
***
Satomi was observing the strange, patchwork group that Scott had gathered around with him, and was struggling to understand the dynamics inside it. Who was at the top of the hierarchy there, and who at the bottom? It seemed that there was no easy answer to that question, especially since Scott had insisted on counting humans as members of his pack, which was a very strange idea, one she hadn't quite got used to, yet. What did humans have in common with werewolves? Did they even understand the concept of being a part of the pack?...
Another thing that bothered her was how many Alphas Scott had managed to secure an alliance with. Peter Hale, Deucalion, the twins, what were their names? Oh yes, Aiden and Ethan, which made the numbers of Alphas and Betas in their combined packs almost equal. It was disconcerting, to say the least, not only because of the danger they posed if they ever decided to go after other packs, but because of a precedent they were setting. This might be a start of a total change in the werewolf community - and she knew per experience that such changes were often turbulent, if not outright violent.
What would stop werewolves from other packs from trying to join McCall pack for its diversity and combined strength? After all, word travels fast, and people, especially young, are often easily influenced. She could imagine that if such a mass migration truly took place, it would lead to dissension, even violence within the packs as Alphas across the whole country would try to maintain their authority by force.
"What would you say about a little test?" She suddenly suggested.
Scott's brow furrowed. "What kind of test?"
"The whole point of this meeting is verifying if Brett and Lori would be safe with Peter. I want him to prove to me in a fight that he's able to protect them."
"Do you mean a duel?"
"In real life you wouldn't expect equal odds, would you?" she pointed out. "No, I meant him against my pack, let's say myself and two of my strongest, Demarco and Reed."
Her words were followed by some murmurs among McCall pack, and inwardly she grinned. Let's see how the young Alpha will handle that challenge.
Scott stared at her, surprised. "Aren't you guys buddhists?"
"The Buddha taught nonviolence, but didn't forbid self-defense as long as it's free of hate and isn't aimed on hurting another being," she retorted. The Buddha was a member of the warrior caste, which many people often seemed to forget. "I don't see why we couldn't participate in a mock fight focused on testing skills rather than causing harm."
That seemed to have convinced the teen. "Sounds fair. What do you think, Peter, are you feeling up for it?"
The man's eyes were gleaming as he replied: "Why not? All this talking is making me slack, so I'll gladly knock some heads, instead."
Scott snorted. "I should've known that you'd be excited by the idea... No killing, maiming, or permanently damaging anyone in any way though, and that applies to both sides. Keep it safe, alright?"
"We're not taking orders from you," Demarco protested.
"If we're doing this, yes you are. This is a friendly meeting, so let's keep it that way, understood?" Scott stared him down until the man grumbled petulantly in agreement.
That was interesting for Satomi to observe, because Demarco was one of the most hot headed and stubborn members of her pack. If he was ready to accept Scott's authority despite the teen's young age and inexperience, then it must mean something… but what? She didn't know yet, but she was determined to find out.
***
Brett was watching the fight with his fists clenched tightly. He couldn't believe that Peter would agree to fight three werewolves just to prove that he was prepared to defend him if needed. His heartbeat quickened and he winced whenever a blow landed on Peter, and couldn't help an excited yelp each time the man managed to score a hit in return.
"You're really rooting for that guy?" Carrie, his former packmate, asked him curiously.
"Yeah, I guess I am," he admitted. "It's not that I don't like you guys, but-"
"Hey, you don't have to explain yourself, so chill," she shrugged and flipped her blond hair over her shoulder.
He didn't know whether to be relieved that she was still friendly towards him, or offended that she'd reacted so indifferently to the fact that he wasn't in their pack anymore. He didn't have the time to dwell on that for too long, though, as Reed, who had been taken down a moment earlier by Peter, managed to quietly stand up and was getting ready to jump at him from behind.
"Watch out!" Brett called, giving Peter the second needed to spin around and block Reed's blow, a little clumsily but effectively enough to avoid getting hit.
"Let's finish this," Peter grumbled, grabbed Reed's arm and twisted it viciously so that the man was forced to his knees, then hit him on the temple with his elbow, causing the man to slump onto the ground, unconscious. He turned to his remaining opponents. "Is this enough proof that I'm a capable fighter?"
Demarco glowered at him. "That's cheating, if the kid didn't call out you would've lost!"
"You wish. Honestly, it was more of a struggle to avoid causing real damage than anything else. Give me a true fight with no rules and I'll break you in half," Peter sneered.
"That's enough, guys," Scott called loudly and moved to stand between them. "Besides, what Brett did wasn't cheating, but a proof of what we all should be focusing on: that the true strength of a wolf isn't fangs, speed or skill, it's the pack! Whenever you're forced to fight, remember that you have two weapons: yourself and each other. At the end of the day, no werewolf will survive on their own, no matter how strong they are."
“Well said, Alpha,” Peter murmured, tilting his head just the tiniest bit to the side, as if he wanted to bare his throat but stopped himself at the last moment.
Brett blinked, wondering if he’d imagined the gesture, but then realized that it didn’t really matter. He was already aware that where Scott was considered, Peter thought of himself as a secondary Alpha, so it wasn’t exactly new. And the man had proven that it didn’t mean that he was weak, far from it, he’d just managed to fight off three werewolves at the same time. It was quite an accomplishment, and Brett straightened, feeling strangely proud to call this man his Alpha.
… Wait, did he just-
Before the thought fully registered in his brain, he suddenly felt lightheaded and dizzy to the point he swayed on his feet, the empty hole inside him where his packbond used to be nagging at him to be filled again.
As if sensing this, with quick strides Peter appeared by his side and grabbed his arms to steady him. “You alright there, buddy?”
“Yeah, ‘m fine,” he mumbled, then gathered his courage and looked the man in the eye. “Will you be my Alpha?”
He hadn’t planned to blurt it out like that, in front of everyone. Hell, up until a moment ago he hadn’t really been sure what to do, but now... It became clear to him that his loyalties had already switched from Satomi to both Peter and Scott in an equal measure, and thanks to the unique dynamics in their packs, he didn’t really need to choose between them, because being accepted into one would mean becoming a part of the other.
“I already offered it, didn't I?” Peter teased him with gentle smile, then turned to Lori, who was watching them avidly. “What about you, sunshine?”
She blushed, then said quietly but firmly: “Me too, I’m not going to let Brett do this without me.”
Peter nodded and turned to Satomi. “So what do you say, have I proven to be trustworthy enough?”
“Don’t flatter yourself. But if this is what Brett and Lori truly want, I won’t be standing in the way. I'm going to sign that power of attorney too.”
Hearing that, a not so small part of Brett felt a pang of grief, because he’d once hoped to find a way to make Satomi proud of him, but that moment had already passed. That’s why when Peter leaned down to bite his forearm, he didn’t feel any regret, only excitement and anticipation. After all, he’d chosen this, and it made all the difference.
Chapter 179
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Jackson had thought that he was prepared for his first full moon, but from around midday it had quickly become obvious that that was just wishful thinking. It had started with a dull ache and a pressure in the back of his head, at first negligible, but slowly, steadily growing stronger. Everything around him was irking him, voices, smells, even the sunlight was getting on his nerves, of all things. For a moment Jackson thought that maybe he wasn't becoming a werewolf but a vampire, but when he voiced his thoughts out loud, Scott only patted him on the back and assured him that vampires weren't real.
"The closest you can get is becoming a Wendigo, but you haven't eaten human flesh, so that's a moot point."
Jackson glared at the Alpha. "Not helpful," he grunted, finding it difficult to form a coherent sentence with the maddening pounding in his head. "Hurts."
"Come here," Scott murmured, opening up his arms welcomingly, but Jackson growled at him.
" ‘s all your fault, so go away." He knew that it wasn't fair, since it had been his own decision to become a werewolf, not Scott’s or anyone else's, but he couldn't help it. Right now, his bones, joints and muscles hurt too much for him to care about anything else.
Scott sighed. “Alright, I'll go if this is what you want. Let’s meet downstairs at nine, okay?”
“Yeah, whatever. Now piss off.”
He turned away so that he didn’t have to see anger or disappointment on Scott’s face. After a moment he heard quiet footsteps and a second later a hand curled around the back of his neck, but he shrugged it off angrily.
“I said piss off!” He growled.
He hated feeling like this, hated feeling so awful that he was lashing out blindly at everyone around him, Scott especially. And now, on top of feeling like shit he was also feeling guilty, which only made the whole situation even worse.
“Just... no matter what you do or say today, I’m not going to blame you or be upset with you. We’re going to get through this together.” Scott rubbed his back one last time and left, leaving him alone in the room.
Jackson listened to the footsteps getting quieter, and when he was sure that the Alpha couldn’t hear him anymore, he fell to his knees and let out a strangled sound, something between a moan and a whine. He didn’t know how long he was kneeling like that, when he heard a knock.
Yelling some obscenities was tempting, but he hadn’t quite learned the trick of recognizing the people by their scent yet, so instead he got up from the floor and reluctantly called: “Come in.”
When Derek entered, he stared at the werewolf, surprised. It was an open secret that the man was cranky on the day of the full moon and usually preferred solitude over mingling with the pack, so it was surprising to see him here.
“Um, hi,” Jackson said uncertainly.
Derek cleared his throat. “Listen, we don’t know each other that well, so I’m going to save us the embarrassment of pretending that we do.”
He blinked. “O-Okay?”
“During my first full moon I broke Peter’s nose, twice,” Derek deadpanned. “I also screamed at my parents, calling them monsters for condemning their children to a lifetime of suffering.”
He let out a startled laugh. “Dramatic much, weren’t you?”
“The point is, I was wrong when I told them that. While the first full moon is the worst, it does get better with time.” When the man turned around to leave, Jackson realized that this was it, this was the end of the conversation.
“Hey, was that supposed to be a pep talk?” He called out.
Derek folded his arms on his chest. "Did it work?”
Jackson opened his mouth to deny it, when he realized that the other werewolf had actually managed to divert his attention from the pain he was currently feeling. It was still there, but when he wasn’t focusing on it, it was slightly easier to bear. “You know what? It did. Thanks, dude.”
“You’re welcome. But call me ‘dude’ again and I’ll break your nose, full moon or not, got it?” Derek glowered at him menacingly and left.
The whole encounter had been weird but also strangely uplifting. It also made him realize that the very reason why he’d been so rude to Scott earlier was because he trusted the Alpha and didn’t have to choose words carefully around him. Same with Derek, the moment he’d felt more comfortable with the werewolf, he’d started to act brazen around him…
But Scott knew that about him already, right? Still, an apology wouldn’t be such a bad idea, he thought to himself, not wanting Scott to give up on him or regret giving him the bite.
***
Liam tried to hide how much he was hurting, not wanting anyone to think that he was weak, so he kept gritting his teeth and clenching his fists during the last few hours. The ache inside was slowly getting more and more intense, so eventually it became too much for him to bear and he let out a quiet, strangled whine. As Scott was currently upstairs with Jackson, he looked at the twins pleadingly, not even knowing what he was asking for.
Being tackled onto the floor and tickled mercilessly definitely wasn't what he'd had in mind, but he shrieked with laughter all the same, and when they finally stopped tickling him, he slumped against them, sweaty and breathless.
"Thanks guys."
In response, the twins sandwiched him in an almost too tight hug, but somehow it made some of the pain caused by the full moon to disperse. Only a small bit, but it was enough for his tense muscles to finally relax.
When he saw Scott peering through the door, he untangled himself from the twins' hold and went to embrace him.
"Jackson will join us soon, but just to give you heads up, the pain makes him testy and bad-tempered," the Alpha explained. "What about you, how are you feeling?"
Liam grimaced. "Awful, but having company helps. Who's gonna come?"
"Peter decided to have a separate, small gathering consisting only of himself, Malia, Lori and Brett so that they can bond together as a pack. So that leaves me, Derek, Deucalion, the twins and Jackson - is that enough of a company for you?" Scott teased him, so Liam nodded vigorously.
***
Around nine, once they'd all gathered around, Derek led them all to the basement, which apparently was one of the reasons why he'd chosen this particular apartment building to buy.
"The walls are concrete and I changed the wooden doors to metal ones, made of steel-iron-nickel alloy. It's strong enough to resist bending, being pulled apart and even a direct hit with a hammer."
Deucalion smirked. "A werewolf-resistant door, how fitting."
The stairway was quite depressing, dark and smelling of concrete and fresh paint, but when they reached the bottom of the stairs they saw a brightly lit, cozy looking room. The floor was covered with a shaggy carpet, and in the middle there was a huge pile of pillows and fluffy looking blankets. In the corner there was even a supply of bottled water, isotonic drinks and some snacks.
"I know it's not much but I didn't want to have any furniture here that could be broken and possibly hurt someone," Derek explained awkwardly.
"It's perfect," Scott gushed and smacked a kiss on the Beta's cheek, causing him to blush slightly. "Thank you!"
They made themselves comfortable on the floor in a heap of pillows, bodies and blankets, when Jackson said hesitantly: "Scott, I'm sorry for how I acted earlier, it was only because of the pain, I swear."
"Hey, it's alright, I understand. And I'm sorry that I'm not able to alleviate it - the pain absorption skill doesn't work on the full moon aches, I'm not sure why. Maybe because their source is not physical but supernatural?" He ventured a guess. "But if any of us become injured during the full moon, I can easily heal it, so don't worry about that."
"But why are the first transformations so painful and difficult?" Liam wondered.
"There's actually a legend about that, do you want to hear it?" Seeing the excited nods around him, he changed the position so that he was resting comfortably against Deucalion and started the tale: "The most famous myth about the origin of our kind is that of Lycaon and his sons eating human flesh for which they were turned into wolves by the gods as a punishment."
"I've never liked that myth, to be honest," Deucalion admitted.
"Me neither. There is another legend, though, which speaks of an ancient soldier, a lone survivor of a troop that got slaughtered in an ambush. The man managed to escape and went into a wolf burrow to hide himself from his foes who were still chasing him. From there, the tales diverge. Some say that the man killed the wolf living in that den in order to use his fur as a camouflage, for which he was cursed by the forest spirits to become a wolf-like beast himself. But some tales say that the man actually spoke to the wolf - which was an Alpha of its pack - asking for its strength and speed so that he could protect himself from his enemies. The wolf agreed, under the condition that the soldier would swear to protect its pack. When the man made that promise, the wolf lay down and died, but its spirit was transferred into the soldier's body. When the sun set and the full moon rose, the wolf spirit awoke and thus the first werewolf was created. From that moment on, whenever a human gets bitten by an Alpha werewolf, somewhere in the world a wolf dies and its spirit is drawn to the bitten human, to be awakened by the light of the full moon."
There was a sudden, shocked silence at his words.
"So when you bit us… A random wolf had to die because of that?" Liam stared at him, aghast.
"I don't know if there's any truth in that tale, but it would explain why first transformations are always so vicious. The wolf doesn't understand what happened, why it was suddenly taken from its home, be it a forest or a prairie, and thrown into a body that is utterly foreign to it. I can imagine that it sees the human host as an intruder, an enemy even."
"How have you learned about it? I've never heard that myth before," Deucalion asked curiously.
"During the last years of the war Deaton traveled around the world, trying to preserve every bit of knowledge and lore regarding our species that he could find." His eyes glazed a little as he remembered Alan's desperate attempts to save their doomed to fail world. "In the end, it wasn't enough to save that timeline, as there were too many hunters out there and too few of us left…" Sensing his sadness, Deucalion pulled him closer, circlicing him with his strong arms comfortingly.
"But you came back, so this time we actually have a chance to win the war," Jackson reminded him.
"Or avoid it entirely, if possible," he reminded, trying to curb the boy's violence-prone tendencies. "But regardless if that legend is true or not, I wanted you guys to understand that this transformation is probably going to be as strange and disorienting to the wolf inside you as it is for you, if not more."
Hearing that, both Jackson and Liam looked more thoughtful, so he counted it as a success. Both because it helped to take their mind off the pain they were experiencing, and because it showed that they started to think about the upcoming transformation and how to handle it - and it was something they needed to figure out on their own, find a way to calm down their inner wolves and initiate a relationship with them that will last their entire lives.
Notes:
The myth of Lycaon is (obviously) not mine, but that tale about the surviving soldier is, since I started to wonder how to better explain how the first werewolves came to exist without making them cannibalists... Which is, like, gross.
Also, this is the last full moon before the summer solstice... Time is getting short, folks :(
Chapter Text
Scott awoke gradually, surrounded by the warm bodies and familiar scents of his packmates. He felt utterly safe like this, cocooned by their closeness, and he allowed himself to bask in the feeling for a short moment until he remembered that this time the full moon was during the week. As much as he'd like to allow everyone to doze off till noon, they needed to go to school - with the exception of Derek and Deucalion, of course.
He sat up and shook the teens gently to wake them up. Liam peered at him sleepily then closed his eyes again, while Jackson grumbled something under his breath and curled into a ball, so he nudged them again.
"Wake up guys, we need to go to school," he murmured quietly. "Your parents will have my hide if I let you skip classes, Liam."
His only answer was a soft snoring, and he sighed. Letting them sleep for twenty minutes longer won't do much harm, right? After their first full moon, they deserved to be pampered, even if just a little.
And maybe he deserved a moment of this almost tranquil peace, too.
***
He should've known that it wasn't meant to last, that moments such as these are precious exactly because of how fleeting they are. So when Lydia called him the next afternoon, it was as if the horrors of the past finally caught up with him, and he couldn't escape them any longer.
For a couple of seconds, she just sobbed into the phone, breathless, ugly sobs, the kind of which shake one's entire body.
"My- My mom, Scott, her head was- and her throat - Oh my God, there was so much blood-" she choked up, then he could hear her ragged breathing as she started to hyperventilate. He straightened at once, suddenly on high alert.
"Just calm down and breathe, alright? Where are you? What happened?"
"I've just had a dream, I saw m-my mom, and- This was a Banshee vision, so this means that mom, she- She's-"
Lydia didn't have to finish the sentence for him to know exactly what word she couldn't utter through her clenched throat.
Dead. Natalie Martin was dead.
"I'm coming to you-"
"No!" she interrupted him, breathing harshly. "No, there's no time. I recognized the wounds, the hit on the head, the bruised and slit throat… You know what this means."
Of course he knew. The Threefold Death, which meant that with his foreknowledge he probably could've prevented this death. Maybe. But Lydia's mom was not a virgin, which meant that this time, for whatever reason, Jennifer had started her five-fold knot sacrifice ritual from another group, most probably guardians. He couldn't have known that. And yet… surely there was something he could've done to prevent this death from happening, but hadn't, and now his friend was paying the price.
"Damn, Lydia, I'm so sorry…"
"I don't need you to be sorry, I need you to catch the Darach! In my vision, I saw that it happened near our lake house. We need to go there and hunt that bitch!"
"We will, but for now stay where you are and let us handle this. You're not a werewolf, you can't track Jennifer by scent, or run as fast as we can," he tried to reason with her. "You did your part, you've identified the place, now let us do ours."
"Alright," Lydia sniffled. "Just, be careful, okay? And call me as soon as you learn anything."
"I will, I promise. And we're all here for you, you know that, right? If you need, call Stiles or Jackson, they can keep you company. You're not alone in this."
"I don't need company, I need justice," Lydia hissed, though the effect was slightly ruined as she was still crying and her voice broke in the middle of the sentence.
"And you'll get it."
When he disconnected, he knew that his eyes were red. Red as the hot anger that he was feeling. Red as the blood that had just been spilt.
He'd tried to give everyone the benefit of doubt and not judge them for the deeds of a previous timeline which they haven't done yet, but what had happened today- This proved that Jennifer was still hell-bent on revenge and psychotic enough to kill innocent people for her cause, and he couldn't let her continue on this path, he had to hunt her down, and quickly.
There was a part of him that felt the thrill at the mere thought. He knew that it was messed up, that he shouldn't be feeling this… energized; his friend had just lost a parent, after all, and he was honestly wrecked by the thought. But beneath his sadness and guilt there was something more wild, primal, and it made him want to bare his teeth and howl, to call his pack and hunt the person responsible for hurting his friend.
When he swallowed, the salty, metallic taste in his mouth told him that he'd just bit the inside of his mouth with his fangs. It wasn't surprising in the least, since each werewolf had the soul of a predator. It could be buried deep, dormant and silenced for a long period of time, until something triggered it and caused it to resurface - and it seemed that today's events awakened his.
Which didn't mean that he had to indulge it - after all, he was still in control - but he could, if the need arose.
***
When they arrived by the lake, Deucalion was the first to catch the scent of blood. It wasn't surprising, since his senses were superior to everyone else's, even Scott's. He led the pack to the pier where Mrs Martin was lying motionlessly, with blood pooled around her head and staining the wood beneath.
"Can you follow Jennifer's- I mean, Julia's scent?" Scott asked urgently, trying not to focus on the cooling body at their feet.
Deucalion tilted his head to the side and sniffed, then nodded slowly. "It's slightly changed, I don't know why, but it's similar enough to how she used to smell. Follow me."
When they went into the Beacon Hills' Reserve where the trail led them, Scott caught his lover's arm for a second. "The aim is to catch, not kill her."
"If you can't do what needs to be done-"
"If she shows no remorse, and I mean an honest one, I'll kill her myself if need be. But she once was an innocent victim, just as you were. To kill her on sight wouldn't be justice, not if you and Kali got a second chance, even after what you both did."
For a second Deucalion bristled, before his expression softened. "I know that you have a kind heart, but you know what the consequences might be if you just let Julia go, that soon we'd have even more corpses on our hands."
"Trust me, I have zero intentions of letting her go unpunished," he said darkly. "But killing should be a last resort, alright?"
Deucalion stared at him for a long moment before nodding with reluctance. The others observed them in silence, their faces grim, so Scott smiled at them faintly before continuing the chase.
It didn't take long before they caught up to Julia, her healed, perfectly smooth skin almost glowing. The moment she saw Deucalion she sent a whirlwind of rocks and tree sticks in their direction, buying herself just enough time to throw a handful of Mountain Ash in the air to form a barrier around her.
"You're naive if you think that mere tree ash will protect you," Deucalion drawled as he circled her with small, lazy steps, his red eyes glowing menacingly.
"And I see that you converted even more werewolves to your pack of murderers," Julia's voice trembled a little, though her expression was defiant as she took the sight of them all. Her eyes widened with surprise as she recognized Peter and Derek, though she shot Jordan a quick, puzzled look, probably sensing his non-human nature but not recognizing it for what it was. She also didn't seem to be familiar with the twins, which made sense, since they'd joined the Alpha pack after she'd been left to die by Kali.
Deucalion scoffed. "That's rich coming from you, seeing as your hands are literally covered with blood."
"We know about the ritual, and it stops now," Scott added. "We won't let you kill innocent people to satisfy your vanity and thirst for revenge."
Julia blinked, surprised. "I don't know what lies Deucalion fed you when he recruited you, but he is a true monster here, not me. The things that he's done-"
"I know about them, but unlike you, he's never killed a human unaware of our world. This is a line he's never crossed."
She raised her chin in defiance. "This was a necessary sacrifice, I only did what I had to."
"You made my friend a half-orphan, and for what? To regain your looks? Are you really that vain?"
"I don't know who you are, boy, but you clearly have no understanding of what's going on. I'm not the villain here, he is!" she pointed at Deucalion. "Did you know that he makes Alphas kill their entire packs? Dozens were killed to satisfy his thirst for power, including the Emissaries who were advisors to the packs. He needs to be stopped, no matter the cost!"
Scott shook his head. "It's you who doesn't understand. Deucalion has already been stopped-"
Deucalion cleared his throat. "I can argue my own case, love."
"Love?" Julia looked between them with disbelief.
"What, did you think I'm incapable of having feelings? Or that I would be ashamed of admitting them?" Deucalion snorted. "I'm not a monster, no matter how much you enjoy painting me as such. What Scott said is true, I no longer seek power or force other Alphas to submit to me. If stopping me was your goal, then it's already completed, and you can no longer use it as an excuse to murder people."
"I don't believe you, this is- This is just another of your plots!"
"Look at me, I'm a Beta, do you really think that I'd be here if I believed that Deucalion would try to manipulate Scott into killing me?" Derek raised his eyebrow, making his eyes glow with golden yellow light for a few seconds.
"This teenager is your Alpha?" Julia looked Scott up and down before she shook her head. "It doesn't matter, I made an oath that I would teach the Alpha Pack that their monstrous actions would never be overlooked, so if the boy joined them, this just means that I have one more werewolf to kill."
Hearing that, Jordan approached the Mountain Ash barrier. "That was the wrong thing to say."
She scoffed. "What do you plan to do, scare me to death by looking at me? No werewolf can cross this barrier."
"Wrong, Scott could, and I am not a werewolf," the Hellhound said calmly. "You should've never threatened my Commander." He squatted, then ignited his palms and pressed them into the Mountain Ash, which sizzled and burned the moment the white-hot flame touched it.
Chapter 181
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The pack's triumph proved to be a little premature, though, since the moment Jordan lunged at Julia, he was thrown backwards by some kind of invisible force and landed on his back with a muffled "oomph". Scott stared for a few seconds with disbelief, because this was Jordan, whose physical strength was equal to that of the Beast of Gevaudan. How on earth Julia had managed to throw him back like that without a single word or gesture?
He looked at her, but she seemed as surprised as them all, before her puzzled frown changed into a triumphant grin. When Deucalion tried to grab her, he was pushed away too, but when in retaliation Julia took a swing and hit him with her fist, it was she who groaned and massaged her aching knuckles while Deucalion looked no worse for the wear. So whatever power was aiding Julia it was protective rather than aggressive in nature, and that seemed awfully like a…
Like it was guarding her.
"Stop! Form a circle around her and don't let her get away, but don’t attack her," he ordered, and his packmates immediately complied, surrounding Julia but making no move to harm her. He joined them quickly, tightening the circle even more. "She’s just made a sacrifice out of a guardian, not a warrior, so she doesn't have the power to attack us, but we probably won't be able to harm her either." It was ironic that Julia had tried to protect herself by using a circle made of Mountain Ash, and now they were doing something similar but with the intention of keeping her trapped, instead.
That enraged her and she started to kick them, knowing that they can't retaliate, then with a raised hand she started to send wave after wave of rocks in their direction. They managed to deflect most, but some managed to land and if it wasn't for their accelerated healing, they would all be bleeding from various cuts and bruises.
"I swear that if you don't stop this right now, we'll keep you trapped here until you die of hunger or thirst, whichever comes first. I don't care if it's inhumane, just stop hurting my packmates," he growled with a mix of worry and irritation. If she manages to hit their eye or head with enough force she might cause a serious injury, and while he's fairly certain that he could handle healing those, he didn't want to take any chances.
She glared at him, but at least she ceased the assault. "You'd do that, wouldn't you? What a pair you and Deucalion make," she sneered at them both, then did a double take seeing Deucalion's human eyes, healed and unscarred, at the moment no longer glowing with the Alpha red light. "So you did manage to heal that injury after all. Too bad that I didn't," she said bitterly. Then, as if coming to a decision, she dropped the illusion of her beautiful looks, finally showing her horribly scarred face.
Everyone flinched at the sight, and Deucalion turned deathly pale when confronted with the gruesome consequences of his past actions.
"What, did my looks turn you speechless? Didn't Kali mention how thoroughly she mangled me in order to join your pack? Where is she now, hiding under a rock, too afraid to face me?"
"After Ennis' death Kali left the pack," Ethan commented, then blanched seeing Deucalion's glare. "Um, sorry for speaking out of turn?"
"Didn't you stop to consider that voluntarily providing an enemy with an intel might not be the best idea?"
"Sorry," Ethan almost shrinked in himself, causing Deucalion to sigh.
"It's fine, just let me and Scott do the talking from now on, can you do that?"
The boy nodded frantically, looking entirely apologetic, and Deucalion nodded slightly to let the boy know that he was forgiven.
***
When Kali had left her to die, Julia had lost more than just her beauty or even her pack, she'd also lost her calling. After all, she'd spent her whole youth training to be an Emissary, and for what? For being nearly slaughtered by a werewolf? And not just any werewolf either, but the woman she had trusted and known for years. A woman whom she'd had feelings for, as laughable and pitiful that idea now seemed to her.
While lying in the hospital bed after the Sheriff had found her and called for an ambulance, she had struggled to wrap her head around it all. Every time she recalled Kali's face contorted by a vicious snarl, she remembered the pain of being slashed into shreds and her heart broke anew.
The only thing that kept her going was her thirst for revenge. She had lost everything she's ever held dear, everything that's ever mattered to her, so she'd decided to put her druidic knowledge to use one last time and punish the culprits. She didn't care who would get hurt in the process or what she'd do afterwards once she accomplished her mission. And so she'd bided her time and slowly re-built her power reserves, waiting for the right moment to strike the Alpha Pack when they least expected it.
Finding suitable victims for her five-fold knot sacrifice was the first step to completing her goal, and it had taken her several months to research a spell that would give her the power to see auras around humans showing how much they fit into the ritual requirements. Some people didn't emanate any aura, so she guessed that meant they wouldn't fit into either category. Some glowed, but just barely, so she rejected them as well, same as people whose auras was an equal mix of several colors, since she didn't want to risk the ritual going awry if the spell couldn't identify which group a person belonged to.
What she needed was someone who was a pure embodiment of a given role, almost an archetype, the closest to perfection the better. At some point she’d encountered a desperate mother whose aura glowed with a beautiful yellow light while she worrying for her daughter, who had recently started to show erratic behavior and insomnia. It was a perfect start, because who could be more protective than a mother?... And it's not like Julia actually orphaned the girl, who would still have one parent left, right?
A necessary evil, a means to an end, that's all it was. So as she'd been strangling the mother with a garrotte, she had whispered in her ear: "Hush, this is necessary, thanks to you I'll punish those who have wronged me." The woman hadn't seemed to be understanding of her plight, though, but it didn't matter, since she had to die either way.
What Julia had not expected was to be caught almost red-handed so early in the game. How had the Alpha Pack learned about this? What about these young Alphas, the twins and another boy, who were they? Why were the Hales associating with the Alpha Pack?
And that guy with flaming hands, what was he, a Fire Kitsune? Or maybe a Hellhound? But none of it made any sense, since neither foxes nor dogs got on particularly well with wolves, so why would one associate himself with a whole pack of werewolves?
She didn't understand what was going on, and while a part of her was intrigued by everything she learned, it also frustrated her to no end. After all, she had once prided herself of knowing the packs' matters in and out, even better than the werewolves themselves, so why did it feel like the world had moved on - without her?...
The last straw was seeing Deucalion, who was responsible for all of her suffering, perfectly happy, healed, and in love - no matter how ridiculous the idea was. That man wasn't capable of love, he despised it, because why else would he order Kali to kill her? He had to have known about their feelings towards each other, never mind that nothing had ever come of it, since Kali had always been more enamored with that prick Ennis.
But then one of the twins said that Ennis was dead and Kali had left the Alpha Pack, and it was as if the whole world turned on its axis for her. If that was the case and Kali was no longer under Ennis' or Deucalion's influence, what did that mean to Julia? Did it change anything? She wasn't sure anymore.
She now started to realize that in her anger she'd been acting blindly when she should've gathered more information first. She even could have started the ritual from philosophers for their cunning and planning skills, but now - now it was too late, she'd been discovered and trapped among the creatures that had once fascinated her so much that she had dedicated her whole life to them, only to be betrayed in return.
Just thinking about that caused her anger to resurface. "I want Kali's head or I'll kill you all, even if I have to use my inner power at the expense of my own life, I don’t care. I want her dead," she hissed.
She thought to herself that thankfully she was no longer controlled by an unrequited love for a woman who had stomped on her heart as if it meant nothing, as if Julia meant nothing. She was finally free.
"No," the boy - Steve? Scott? - said firmly, and she raised an inquisitive eyebrow in Deucalion's direction.
"You let a teenager make decisions for you, now? How disappointing."
Deucalion leveled her with an unimpressed look. "You haven't been paying attention, have you? Scott is my equal, and I'm proud of it. Playing on my ego isn't going to work."
"But why risk your life for someone who is no longer a part of your pack?" That didn't make any sense to her. The only loyalty werewolves had was to their own packmates, and as the Alpha Pack's actions had shown, not even that. So why didn't they want to agree to trade Kali's life for their own?
It was Scott who replied to her. "Because Kali is a werewolf, and it means that she's one of us, pack or not."
Then, his eyes flared with an intense purple light, taking her off-guard, because while Kitsunes or Hellhounds were rare, their existence was well researched and documented - the purple eyes on the other hand were not. They were only ever mentioned as a legend, a myth about a Royal Alpha, a leader who will emerge in the times of the greatest of needs and unite the whole supernatural world under his rule. A tale not unlike that of King Arthur, the Once and Future King.
Marin had once been convinced that Deucalion was that leader, but time had proved her horribly wrong, since that man couldn't have been furthest from the kind and just figure the legends have portrayed. But this- this wasn't just a figment of Julia's imagination, because judging by the surprised sounds the other werewolves were making, she wasn't the only one seeing the purple in the boy's eyes.
For the first time in a very long time she thought to herself that maybe, just maybe, revenge wasn't the only thing left to live for, that there were still things to learn and parts of the supernatural world that were a mystery waiting to be unveiled… It was liberating, as if she'd just awoken from a very long, terrible dream, but then she remembered that it was already too late for her.
She now looked like a monster, or even worse, like a freak show, there was no way she could resume her life as an Emissary, or any life at all, while looking like this. Not to mention, she had blood on her hands, and if she recalled Scott's world correctly, it was the blood of his friend's mother. There was no way the boy would overlook that - or was it?
Well, there was only one way to find out, and much as she hated putting herself at anyone's mercy, she needed to somehow gain Scott's trust. Because despite what Deucalion had said, that he and the boy were equals, it was now clear to her that they weren't. It was Scott who was the one in charge here - and it was his good side she needed to get on.
Carefully, with slow movements so as to not be perceived as a threat, she took his hand and guided it to make a long gash on her other palm with his claws, making a dent in the guardian sacrifice.
"You, and only you, can harm me now."
When the boy turned his eerie, piercing gaze on her, she froze as if she was a mouse waiting for the hawk to descend on her from the sky.
"Why would you do that?" His tone was careful, giving nothing away.
"Because I want you to act as a judge for me, considering everything that happened between me, Kali and Deucalion, and if anyone can do that with fairness, it's the Royal Alpha. Unless I'm horribly mistaken and you're just going to kill me straight away," she added with a crooked smile, because it was either that or begging for mercy, and she was far too proud for that.
Notes:
What do you think, guys, should Scott forgive her? Punish her?
Kill her? 🙈🙉🙊
Chapter Text
For a moment Scott stood perfectly still.
"What is she talking about? And why are your eyes purple? I've never seen anything like it," Peter tilted his head curiously.
"It's nothing, okay? Just an old myth that Marin once told me about."
"Nothing my ass. I can't believe that you've learned a new piece of werewolf lore and you didn't share it with me, you know how I love this stuff," Peter pouted and Scott smiled faintly, knowing that it was his packmate's inner scholar speaking.
"So you do know what you are?" Julia asked and he nodded, not seeing any harm in admitting it.
"We're getting off track. What are we planning on doing with her?" Deucalion looked at Julia pointedly.
Scott stared at the woman for a long moment. "You said you want me to make a judgment in your case, then so be it. But we'll need a druid witness for this."
"I am a druid-"
He shook his head. "No, you're not, not anymore. You've become a Darach now, and your connection to the Nemeton and the telluric currents is now twisted, warped. No, I'll ask Alan to come. Meanwhile, Jordan, go back to the pier and secure the crime scene, but don’t call the Sheriff just yet."
"On it," the Hellhound nodded and headed back to the lake house.
"D-Darach?" Julia stuttered, staring at Scott with wide eyes.
"It happened the moment you fed the currents with blood unwillingly spilled in order to pursue your own agenda. Can't you feel the change?"
For a second she seemed like she would deny it, but then she deflated and gave a small, reluctant nod.
***
While waiting for everyone to arrive, Scott separated from the group and walked deeper into the woods, trying to find some answers in solitude.
What Julia had asked of him… It was nearly impossible to judge fairly and objectively, especially when people he loved were involved. He kept asking himself what was more important: the actions or the reasons behind them? Who should be punished, and who absolved? And finally, what held more weight: the past, the present, or the future?
Neither of them. All of them. The solution to this equation was slippery and just as he thought he had it, it kept falling through his fingers like sand.
He didn't turn when Derek joined him and sat down beside him on a fallen tree who'd been lying there for long enough to be almost completely covered with moss. "It's not easy, is it?"
Scott snorted. "That's an understatement."
They were sitting in silence for a moment, before Derek spoke up again: "I honestly don't have any advice to give. I only know that when Peter killed Laura and I wanted to get revenge, you talked me out of it, and now I'm thankful for that, even though I was angry with you at that time. So trust yourself and your instincts." With that said, Derek patted him on the arm and left without a word, leaving him alone once again.
Scott's shoulders sagged, before he straightened up, an idea forming in his mind.
***
When he got back, everyone was already there, his entire pack, Lydia, Alan, even Marin. He wasn't happy that Deaton brought his sister along, but considering that she was Deucalion's former Emissary, he was willing to let her stay, just this once.
Lydia's face was so closed off it was hard to tell what she was feeling or what her thoughts were, and it worried him. She was surrounded by her friends: Allison and Isaac, Jackson, Stiles, even the twins stood beside her, showing their support.
As he approached her, he didn't try to pretend that everything was okay, or to say that it'll be alright, since he knew that for a long time, things will be everything but alright for Lydia. He also knew that she didn't enter into the mourning phase yet, that for now she was still simmering with anger which she had to let go before allowing herself to grieve.
"I want her punished," Lydia said quietly, intently, her unblinking eyes fixed on Julia.
"And she will be," he responded just as quietly, before he turned around to face his Emissary. "Alan, do you agree to act as a witness?"
"I do."
"Julia, are you ready to receive your judgment?"
"What about hearing me out?" She protested, her face once again covered with an illusion of health and beauty. "At least allow me to tell the things from my perspective!"
"I'm perfectly aware of what happened to you. This is quite a tragic story in which almost everyone is both a villain and a victim, being betrayed and betraying others. First Deucalion gets attacked by his Beta, Marco, and kills his entire pack in return. Then Kali chooses Ennis over you, slaughters her own pack and leaves you on the brink of death. And finally, you betray everything you've ever stood for as a Druid and Emissary by spilling innocent blood in the name of revenge. The number of unnecessary deaths in this story is staggering and neither you, Kali, nor Deucalion are innocent in this. But the difference is, Kali didn't kill you - yes, she hurt you horribly, both physically and emotionally, but she left you alive, if barely. You didn't give Natalie Martin similar chance, and because of that I deem you guilty."
Julia was pale but she still stood proudly. "So what you're saying is that my pain, everything I went through - all of it is irrelevant?"
He shook his head. "What I'm saying is that the fact that you've been hurt doesn't cancel out the murder you've commited in cold blood, it doesn't work like that. Both events should be considered separately, so you should be suitably punished for Mrs Martin's death, but you're also owed reparations for what Kali did to you."
Julia dropped the illusion once again, showing her horribly scarred face for all the world to see, causing others to gasp in horror. "How can you repair that? Don't you think that I've tried?! I'd need more sacrifices in order to heal myself permanently, there's no other way!"
"I've healed Deucalion's eyes which were deemed incurable by everyone else, what makes you think that I can't get rid of your scars?" He asked calmly and she stared at him.
"Can you? Will you?"
"Not alone, no, since I'd need others to lend me their power, but together… Yes, this is doable and I'm willing to do that. But you must understand that you've killed an innocent person, and that is irreversible. There is literally nothing you can do to make it up to your victim's husband and daughter, and so you must be punished."
"Punished how?" She seemed apprehensive, and he felt satisfaction at the sight. Finally, finally she started to understand that this was serious.
"Your victim was a human, so a human punishment is due. Once you're healed you're going to confess to the Sheriff that you're the one who killed Natalie Martin and that you want to give yourself up. During your trial you're going to plead guilty, all the while not mentioning anything supernatural, and you'll accept whatever sentence the judge will order."
"No, I won't go to jail!"
"It's either that or I'm going to kill you right here and now," he warned.
"You're- That's not even a real choice!" She protested.
"You've just admitted that you were willing to kill more people to fulfill your goals. Would you have given them a choice, any choice at all?" He stared her down and she looked away with a faint blush on her pale cheeks. "That's what I thought. Julia Baccari, you've shown a disregard towards human life that is unbecoming of a druid, even a former one. You need to take responsibility for your actions, and learn to respect life again. Do you accept my judgment?"
"Yes, I do, under the condition that I get to be healed first," she demanded.
He almost snorted. He knew exactly what was going on in her head: that she gets to have her beauty back which she wanted all along, and then she could try to weasel out of the second part of the bargain. But she was wrong: there was no escaping this.
"Of course. Your healing has been long overdue, you've been forced to hide your face for long enough," he agreed easily. “You’re bound by your word now, just as I am by mine.”
He squatted, sensing the telluric currents deep under the surface. He expanded his claws and punctured his hand, letting a couple of blood drops fall to the ground.
“Aw-” Julia gasped, clutching at her palm with a claw wound which suddenly reopened. When a trickle of her blood sank into the grass, the ground shook with slight tremor, not enough to cause anyone to fall down, but enough to be felt by everyone in the area.
“I must admit that I’m impressed, again. You seem to have a knack for binding people with blood oaths, Scott,” Alan said with a small smile.
"And that's also further proof of you being the Royal Alpha," Marin added. "It's been written that he'll be known for three roles: a judge, a healer, and a savior, and it looks to me that you've already proved to be all three."
Suddenly, Julia laughed, and it was a raw, sharp sound that had nothing to do with amusement. "You've always been rather mediocre in foreign languages, Marin. I know that myth as well as you do, and the word you're thinking of, merzher, doesn't mean a savior. It means a martyr. And you know what happens to martyrs: they die, usually in a slow, painful and messy way."
For a moment, everyone was shocked into silence, and Scott could feel all eyes on him. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, as his worst assumption on what awaits him had just gotten confirmed.
"If that's what needs to happen, then so be it. I'm not running away or hiding my head in the sand, I've known for quite some time that nothing comes without a price, and I'm ready to pay it. I only hope that you're ready to pay yours, Julia, because there is no escaping the judgment you've just agreed on."
Maybe later when he's alone, he'll allow himself to break down, to cry and whimper and rage. But for now, he had things to do, and as long as he was still standing, he was going to continue working on his tasks, which were still far from completed.
And if by being busy he was keeping his own despair at bay… Well, that was just an added bonus.
Chapter 183
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"You promised to heal me, so do it," Julia demanded, her gaze challenging him to back out of the deal.
"Of course, but I'll need more power to do that," he reminded her, trying to focus on the task at hand and not on his short life expectancy.
"I'll lend you mine," Deucalion offered at once. "After all, if it wasn't for me creating the Alpha Pack Kali wouldn't have done what she did."
Aiden and Ethan exchanged looks. "We'll help too," Aiden said decisively.
"Boys, you weren't even a part of the Alpha Pack back then, you shouldn't have to take responsibility for something that wasn't your fault."
"You encouraged us to fight against our old Alpha, we still owe you for that. Let us help, please."
Deucalion's expression softened seeing Ethan's puppy eyes and he nodded with reluctance, then turned to Scott. "What do you think, will it be enough?"
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "That's hard to say. We might be able to pull it off, but… it'll be tough. And since it's not a life or death situation as when I healed Allison, I'm not willing to risk any of you losing your Alpha powers during the process. What about Kali, do you know where she is?"
Deucalion shook his head with regret, but Derek cleared his throat, causing everyone to look at him.
"Last time I saw her she was staying in our old house."
"You've let this crazy woman stay on our property?" Peter asked incredulously.
Derek shrugged. "Everyone needs a place to stay, are you saying that I should have thrown her out? Besides, it's not like we are using that house anymore, it's a ruin."
"My nephew, a philanthropist," Peter made a disgusted face, though it was pretty obvious that his heart wasn't in it. "Alright, why don't we add Kali to the power donation list and be done with this. She's responsible for this mess, so she should be the one to clean it up."
Scott nodded with agreement, because while he would've put it more diplomatically, having the person who had wronged the victim assist with the healing might prove to be beneficial to the entire process… Unless both women would attempt to claw each other's eyes, that is. When those two were involved, he couldn't entirely rule that out.
***
In the end, the combined powers of the Alpha Pack including Kali turned out to be enough to heal Julia's scars, though they were all exhausted by the end of it. During the entire time, Julia and Kali ignored each other's presence as best as they could. Despite their act, though, Scott could tell that Kali was shaken by the horrific scars that her own claws had left on Julia, even though she tried to cover it with cold indifference, rivaling or even surpassing Derek with the level of sullines she was currently displaying.
If he had a little more time and patience, he would've attempted to talk to both women, convince them to try to repair their relationship, or at least let the other know how they were feeling, to unload all the hurt, guilt and a sense of betrayal… But he didn't have that time, nor was he sure that they would welcome his advice, no matter how well-meant. Both Kali and Julia were proud and stubborn to a fault, and despite all the Royal Alpha talk, they still considered him a teenager, and he couldn't trust either of them with the truth.
Maybe that was for the better, though, he thought to himself, maybe it wasn't his place to try to meddle in their lives. He couldn't save everyone, especially if someone wasn't ready to accept help. Besides, he knew from experience that some people simply didn't want to be saved, and some didn't exactly deserve saving - not until they truly regretted their actions - and it seemed that neither Kali nor Julia were quite there just yet.
Plus, if he was being entirely honest with himself, the fact that Julia had just commited a cold-blooded murder made it that much easier for him to stay detached as he called the Sheriff to ask him to fetch Mrs Martin's body and take Julia into custody. He wasn't even surprised when his dad showed up as well. What did surprise him, though, was that the first thing Rafael did was to embrace him and then appraise his body for any injuries.
"Are you alright?"
"I'm fine, dad. Really, I am, it's Lydia who lost her mom, the rest of us are okay."
"I'm sorry for your loss," Rafael said to Lydia, who nodded slightly. "Is there anything I can do, call someone perhaps?"
"My father doesn't know about- well, about any of this," her lips wobbled but her eyes remained dry, if a little red around the edges.
"Then I'll make sure that he's informed. Anything else? Maybe you need someone to drive you home?" Rafael suggested, but Lydia shook her head.
"No need, I want to stay with the pack. Can I?"
"Unless your father will want you back home, I don't see any reason why you couldn't stay with your friends for now. Can I ask you all what happened, though?"
The Sheriff joined them just in time to hear the question. "I'd like to know that too. How come you've managed to catch the killer and on top of that convinced her to turn herself in? Parrish has taken her to the station, but are you sure that we've got the right person?"
Scott nodded. "Positive, it's all her doing. You've met her once, by the way, around eight years ago. Remember that horribly scarred young woman who was barely alive when you found her? That's her, Julia Baccari. Her plan was to harness the power of human sacrifice, and she wouldn't have stopped at just one victim."
"Human sacrifice, that's actually a thing?" The Sheriff grimaced.
"Unfortunately, yes. But there are very few people capable of actually gaining power out of it, so hopefully we won't see any more of those cases," he explained.
"Let's hope so," the Sheriff's expression was sour but he thanked them and went back to the pier to talk to the forensic team.
"Alright everyone, I think it's time we head home. Lydia, you can stay with us for as long as you want, there's plenty of space if you don't mind sharing a room," Scott offered.
"I actually prefer it that way, I don't want to be alone tonight."
They started to head towards the parking lot when Rafael grabbed his arm, "Scott, I actually wanted to talk to you about that human trafficking case, but if it's not the right time…"
Time was not something he had in abundance, so he figured that the sooner he ticked that one off his list, the better. "It's fine, we can talk while you drive, I'll go with you."
It turned out that the location of the trafficking ring's base was correct, but the FBI had raided it too late, as a majority of the kidnapped women and children had already been boarded on a ship and transported out of the country.
"I'm sorry, son," Rafael murmured regretfully, shooting him a worried glance from behind the wheel, then looked back at the road.
"So what, that's it? You're just going to give up?" He couldn't believe it was going to end that way. It seemed that everything he'd done recently, it all ended with a failure: first he couldn't prevent Mrs Martin's death, and now this. "Can't you do anything, work with the police in Tokyo, or-"
"It's not that simple. We would need to have a strong case, names, locations, to be able to apply for a mission on a foreign territory, and we have literally no idea where those people were taken. Not to mention, some NPA cops are in league with the Yakuza and are covering for them, so we would need to know exactly whom to contact to avoid having our operation blown. And we can't do anything without the NPA green light, it's their territory, we can't simply barge in as it would result in a serious diplomatic incident."
Scott exhaled slowly, blood pounding in his temples as the wheels in his head worked on overdrive. "Alright, so you need to know the victims' location and a trusted contact in the local police, preferably someone high-ranking, is that right?"
"Yes, but-"
"If I can get you both, will your boss agree to a mission in Japan to save those people and transport them back home?"
Rafael stared at him for a long moment. "Scott, you might be a werewolf but you're just sixteen, for Christ sake! How are you planning to obtain this info?"
"This time, I am as powerless as you are, but I know people who might obtain the information that we need. I'll just need to convince them to help, somehow..."
He wasn't entirely sure that he could pull it off, but he had to try. He would never forgive himself if he had means to help and didn’t even try.
***
After Brett and Lori had joined the combined McCall and Hale packs, Satomi had made sure to make it clear that she wanted nothing to do with Scott McCall and didn’t appreciate any contact unless it was an absolute emergency. Seeing his number calling her barely several days later caused her to sigh with exasperation.
"I hope this is important," she warned the boy once she picked up.
"I wouldn't call you otherwise, Alpha Ito."
He sounded grave, so she immediately became worried. "Lori and Brett, are they fine?"
"They are, thank you for asking, but I'm actually calling you regarding a matter unrelated to them. There's a group of missing people I've been trying to find, but I lost the trail when they were placed on a ship."
Her brow furrowed in confusion. "I don't understand what that's got to do with me."
"Are you still in contact with your old friend, Noshiko Yukimura? And before you say anything, I'm aware that she's a Celestial Kitsune. With her ability to sense souls, she could help us locate the missing people."
She felt her palms clenching into fists, the claws digging into the skin and drawing blood. "I don't know where you heard that, but I don't know any Noshiko."
"Please Alpha Ito, these people- they are women and children who have been kidnapped by a human trafficking ring and are about to be sold to brothels and gods know where else," she could hear desperation in his voice. "All I ask is that you talk with Noshiko if she'd be willing to hear me out-"
"I'm sorry, but I can't help you." She hung up abruptly, feeling her heartbeat racing.
How had that McCall boy learned about her friendship with Noshiko? And even more important, how did he know about Noshiko being a Kitsune, much less her chosen element - Heaven? Only a handful of people in the entire world knew about that, and Lori and Brett weren't among them, as Satomi had never told them about Noshiko's true nature.
This… teen Alpha knew too much, and that made him much more dangerous than she'd initially thought. At first, she might've underestimated him, but now she swore to herself that she won't make a similar mistake ever again.
Still, Noshiko had to be informed that someone had revealed her identity and that she probably had a mole among her friends. But who would have spilled the beans to a young, relatively unknown Alpha, and why?...
She startled when her phone vibrated, and she looked at the sender. Scott McCall again, probably to argue his case once more. When she looked at the message, she immediately stiffened, though, as the old demons came back to haunt her.
Do you remember a fly trapped in a jar that you and your friend have hidden under a certain tree? It’s no longer there, I have it. Maybe you should contact Noshiko and ask her to speak with me, after all.
Notes:
I've always wondered what a Celestial Kitsune could do with her element, and being able to sense/locate people's souls seems fitting, don't you think? 😉
On another note, it's not quite the end of Julia's story just yet.
Chapter 184
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Sitting in a cell where the cops had her locked overnight, Julia had a lot of time to think. She had her beauty back and finally looked like a human being again and not like a freaking horror show. She finally had a chance to live her life, to catch up on everything she'd missed since Kali had mauled her. The problem was, how was she supposed to do that if she was going to be thrown into jail? That was no life, just switching from one bad situation to another.
She had been so hopeful once she'd realized that she got to meet the Royal Alpha, but now she only felt bitter and disappointed. His judgement was anything but fair - she was supposed to be given a second chance, to be free of the past and start with a clean state, but instead, he'd condemned her. This wasn't justice, it was pure spite because she'd killed his friend's mother, which made his judgement biased. If only she'd known that he wasn't capable of being fair and objective before she'd agreed to the deal!...
What was even worse, she was now bound by a damn blood oath of all things. She wondered for a moment if there was some way to make it null and void, but she discarded that trail of thought quickly enough, since she'd felt the telluric currents responding to the vow. It was real and it was binding, damn it!
Which meant that the only way out of jail was to become a forswearer… But would it really be more awful than spending the best years of her life locked in a tiny cell, with no way out? Sure, she was aware that breaking a blood vow could have dire consequences, but all the books, grimoires and manuscripts she'd read never mentioned anything specific. Maybe the only real consequence would be living with the knowledge that she'd broken her word, and she could easily accept that if it meant being free.
Wait, was she really thinking of breaking out of the cell and running away? She considered the alternative of facing the trail, then decided that she'd rather take her chances with escaping. It was the middle of the night and there was no one around, though she suspected that there might be a cop or two on a night duty, guarding the exit, but since she still had all her powers at her disposal, she could easily take them down by using telekinesis.
But first, she needed to levitate the keys to her cell… She focused on that, determined to break away.
***
Scott woke up in the middle of the night, sensing that something wasn't right. He sat up abruptly, listening to the sounds surrounding him, but besides the soft snoring and steady heartbeats of his packmates, he couldn't hear anything abnormal or suspicious-
Wait, he could hear quiet footsteps as someone was walking down the stairs. Why would anyone be awake at this hour?... He stood up, waking Deucalion up in the process.
"What's goin' on?" the man mumbled sleepily, rolling to the side.
"I'm going to check one thing. I'll be back in a second," he whispered back, then padded to the door, closing it behind him quietly.
Seeing Lydia walking down the stairs surprised him and for a moment he thought that the girl couldn't sleep because of everything that had happened earlier. Then, she looked at him with glowing, emerald-green eyes, and he knew immediately that it wasn't Lydia standing before him.
"A word given is now a word broken," the Nemeton's avatar whispered to him.
He blinked, trying to figure out what she meant. "Is this about Julia?"
"That foolish seedling… A vow sealed with blood can't be broken without a cost. Come, young wolf, we have a runaway to catch."
He looked at his bare feet and the sleeping clothes he was wearing. "Wait, let me dress up first. We don't want to attract any attention," he added, seeing as the avatar looked unconvinced. That finally got him a reluctant nod, and he hurried back to his room, not wanting to test the being's patience.
***
Of course, Deucalion didn't want to hear anything about Scott going hunting Julia on his own, so it was the three of them that left the building a couple of minutes later.
"Where are we going?" Deucalion asked, and the avatar stared at him without blinking, which Scott knew from experience could be quite unnerving, especially for someone not used to the immortal being's attention. Deucalion didn't seem to be affected by that emerald gaze, though, and waited impatiently for the answer.
"The broken vow will pull the foreswearer into the place of the greatest power in the area."
"The Nemeton," Scott said knowingly, earning himself a small nod.
"How do we know that Julia will follow the pull and not resist it?" Deucalion asked skeptically.
The avatar tilted her head to the side, considering the question. "Can a leaf that falls into a river flow against the current? Can a flower resist a hurricane?..."
"The Nemeton it is, then," Deucalion said grimly.
***
When they arrived at the Nemeton's stump, Julia was struggling against the vines that circled her from ankles up to her knees and were keeping her in place. When she heard them approaching, she froze at once.
"Who are you? Show yourself!"
She couldn't see them in the darkness, Scott realized at once, while they could see her clearly with their werewolf senses. He let his eyes glow as he approached her slowly, and looking at Deucalion, he saw that the man had already transformed into the Demon Wolf, his ruby red eyes glowing like lanterns in the night.
"Fancy seeing you here, but weren't you supposed to be in a cell, awaiting your trial?" Deucalion drawled.
"You- you don't understand, I can't go to jail, I just can't!" she said, her eyes darting nervously between them. "Is this your doing, making the plants hold me like this?"
"Once an oath is broken, the power wakes in the deep," Nemeton's avatar sing-songed, hopping and dancing around as if she was deranged, but Scott knew better. She was just being herself, which was a mix of childish and otherworldly.
Julia looked at her, bewildered. "What-"
The avatar ignored her and turned to him, instead. "It's time, young wolf. You need to make the foreswearer bleed into my roots."
"For how long?"
"Until she is no more."
Scott ignored Julia's protests and stared at Nemeton's avatar in disbelief. "Explain, please."
"This is the rule that must be followed: a life for a life, unless remorse is shown."
"And by running away she proved that she feels none," he nodded slowly.
He didn't like this, not even one bit, but he recognized the importance of making sure that Julia didn't pose a threat to anyone. Not to mention, he was tired of giving her second chances when it was clear that she'd never intended to keep her part of the deal.
He briefly considered letting Julia go if she promised not to utilize human or animal sacrifice for her own gain ever again, but how could he be sure that she'd keep her word?... And if he'd let her go now, every kill she'd commit from now on would be his fault, because he had a chance to stop her and didn't.
He couldn't let that happen.
"No, no, no, I'm sorry, I really am, you can't do this-" Julia pleaded, struggling to get free from the vines that were still keeping her in place, but seeing their implacable expressions she swore and started to throw rocks and tree sticks in their direction just like she had done earlier.
This time, though, Nemeton in Lydia's body simply tsked and waved her hand casually, causing all the objects to fall to the ground with a soft thud. "The powers that you're using, foolish seedling, are mine, have always been mine, and you're just a careless, thoughtless child, playing with something you don't even understand."
"What are you?" Julia asked, her eyes blown wide open in fright.
Exploiting the fact that she was currently distracted, Scott grabbed her by the wrists and slashed them deeply with his claws, so deep that he could feel them scraping against the bone. The blood started to pour from the wounds and sink into the ground, but he knew that it wouldn’t be a quick death, so next he ploughed his claws into Julia's thighs, aiming for femoral arteries. Doing that, he tried to tune out her whimpers and cries, and instead focused on the avatar's reply.
"Everything you've ever known, every seed that you have sown - they came from me," Lydia-Nemeton chanted softly, her emerald eyes glowing eerily in the night. "I am the birth and death, I am your final breath, I am the mirage, I am the echo…"
It didn't take long for Julia to lose consciousness from the blood loss, and a couple of minutes more for her to stop breathing altogether as her blood sank into the Nemeton's roots. Suddenly, her motionless body was surrounded by a green light that was so bright and intense that he had to look away. Once the light dimmed, he raised his eyes, only to see… a tree.
There was no body to be seen; instead, the Nemeton was no longer a stump, but was now a fairly young oak. It was larger than a sapling but not a mature tree yet, with long, slender branches, pointed top and still a lot of growing to do.
But still, it was a tree.
"You did well," the avatar said gently. "It needed to end this way, a human sacrifice for a human sacrifice, but not pointless, not in vain. This land has been devoid of its beacon for too long, but this has changed tonight. Now, I am stronger, and in the future I'll be stronger still. You did well," she repeated, then her eyes lost their glow and she gasped.
"Scott?..." Lydia blinked a couple of times, confused, before the realization dawned on her as her mind caught up with the recent events. "She’s dead, I mean, Julia's dead, or was this all just a dream…?"
"Yes, she broke the blood vow and now she's dead. Are you- Are you alright with it?"
Lydia pressed her lips tightly for a moment. "I'd rather have my mom back, but if it can't be done, then I'm more than alright with having her murderer dead as well. At least that way, Julia won't be able to kill anybody else."
"Yeah, she won't hurt anyone ever again," he agreed, then realized that his hands are shaking. "Let's go back," he looked pleadingly at Deucalion who turned back into his human form and nodded, then kissed his forehead gently.
"Of course, love. We're going home."
Notes:
I shamelessly used Startovarius lyrics from the song "Alpha & Omega", for the Nemeton's speech.
Next: Scott & Deucalion talk in light of everything that happened and what they've learned from the Druids and the Nemeton, plus some pack interactions.
See you next time, lovelies!
Chapter 185
Notes:
This chapter turned out to be a mix of sad, bittersweet and slightly hopeful, but I hope you'll like it nevertheless.
Chapter Text
Scott stared at his hands, slightly pink and swollen from being scrubbed too hard. He thought that he could still smell the blood on them, so he grabbed the soap again, intent on washing them for as long as was needed to get rid of the stench. A hand on his arm stopped him, though.
"They're clean enough," Deucalion murmured.
There's an annoyance deep inside him that made him protest hotly. "No, they're not-"
"Not completely, I know. And they'll never be, not in the way you want them to be. But they're clean enough, and that's as good as it ever gets."
Scott exhaled slowly, trying to calm himself down, "I know. It's not like I haven't killed before, but- This feels different, somehow. Julia was already captured, held down by these vines…"
"And yet, she wasn't powerless," Deucalion reminded him. "Julia was a threat - not an immediate one, but she had the potential to harm people, and no moral compass to stop her. You saw that she wasn't the least concerned when she called you a martyr, as if other people's lives, including yours, didn't matter to her."
Scott sighed and propped his head against his lover's collarbone, all fight leaving him. They stood like that for a long moment, with Deucalion supporting his weight as Scott felt strangely boneless.
"I have two weeks left to live," he whispered finally, voicing his deeply hidden fear that he'd tried to hide for so long now.
The arms holding him tightened with a desperate resolve, as if Deucalion could keep him alive with the strength of his hold alone. Or at least, that he would try.
When they went to bed, Deucalion made love to him with a passion bordering on desperation, his hips moving jerkily, sinking impossibly deep. With each thrust Scott felt getting closer to his lover, but somehow also slipping further and further away, and when he came, his face was wet with tears.
"I fucking hate it that I'll have to leave you," he choked out afterwards. "You deserve so much more than this."
"So stay with me..." Deucalion's words were barely a whisper, so quiet that if Scott wasn't a werewolf he would've missed them. But at this point, there was no promise that he could give without feeling like a liar, so he kissed him instead.
The kiss tasted of salt, and grief.
***
In the morning, the Sheriff called to inform them about Julia's escape, and Scott had to tell him an abridged version of last night's events. He omitted his own involvement, and only revealed that the Nemeton had already taken care of Julia, including absorbing her body.
"There's a magical tree in the woods that's capable of making an adult body disappear without a trace?" the Sheriff asked incredulously. "Is it dangerous, this… Nemeton? Should I send a team with chainsaws and axes to take it down?"
"No, no, no, there's no need," Scott assured the man hurriedly. "The Nemeton acted only because Julia broke her word and escaped from her cell, but besides that, it has been dormant for several decades."
"Good. Because if it ever starts killing random people…"
"Chainsaws and axes, got it," Scott confirmed dutifully. He didn't have the heart to tell the man that if the Nemeton didn't want to be found by someone, it wouldn't, and that no map had ever been able to pinpoint its exact location.
After the Sheriff hung up, Scott exhaled deeply in relief. One difficult conversation down, one more to go.
***
"What do you mean, you're going to skip school?" His mom asked with a faux calmness, but the dangerous glint in her eyes gave her away.
"Mom, I have two weeks left to live, I want to spend it to the fullest, and attending classes… That's as far on my list as possible."
"No, you can't just give up on your future like this!"
"I'm not giving up, but I am accepting the inevitable. If I was dying of cancer, you wouldn't be forcing the issue, would you? You'd do everything in your power to make my last days as fulfilling as possible."
He knew that comparing his situation to a terminal illness was a blow below the belt, but he hoped that it would make his point across.
"This is not the same-" his mom insisted stubbornly.
"This is exactly the same," he interrupted her, then breathed deeply, trying to calm down. "If I survive this, maybe I can go to summer school to make up for the classes I missed, and take exams in September if the principal will allow it. Worst case scenario, I'll repeat the year. But if these really are the last two weeks of my life, then going to school is pointless anyway since I won't be here long enough to finish it."
She hid her face in her hands, and he could see her shoulders trembling from suppressed sobs. Or maybe not so much suppressed, as he could smell her tears in the air.
He approached her slowly, then put his arms around her, and she seemed so breakable in his embrace, so frail. He held her until her trembling subsided, and when she looked up, he could see a glint of steely determination in her eyes.
"Alright, if you're going to skip classes, then I'm going to take personal leave in the hospital," she said decisively, her voice brooking no argument. "If these two weeks are the last that I get to spend with you, then I'll be damned if I lost a second of it by not being here for you."
"Thanks, mom. But you know that I'd want to spend at least some of that time with Deucalion, alone," he wiggled his eyebrows, making her grimace with distaste, but he could tell that it was half-hearted at best. Somehow along the way, Deucalion had managed to grow on her, at least to the point she accepted his presence in Scott's life. "On another note, do you want to tell Dr Geyer exactly why you need personal leave? He knows about the supernatural world, but not about time travel or its consequences."
"Do you want him to know?"
He rubbed his chin, considering the question for a moment. "Liam will need his parents' support once I'm gone, so… yeah, you can tell him. If he needs to hear it from me, let me know, and I'll talk to him, okay?"
She nodded and straightened with newfound energy. It was good to see her like that, relentless and determined, with a new task absorbing her mind - even if it was just a temporary distraction.
***
His friends weren't ecstatic to hear that he wasn't going to school with them - to say the least - but when he explained the rationale behind his decision, they were much more understanding. Saddened, too, but there was nothing anyone could do about it.
Only Stiles, who had stayed with the pack last night but was supposed to go back to his own home today, grew more upset, which for him meant acting even more agitated than usual.
"You're so busy I only ever see you at school, when am I supposed to hang out with you now?" Stiles whined, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "It's not fair, mate!"
"How about I'll talk to your dad and ask if you could stay with us for the next two weeks, hm?" Melissa offered and Stiles hugged her enthusiastically, drawing a surprised laugh out of her.
Scott thought it was a great idea, all things considered. The Sheriff might be used to curbing his son's crazy tendencies and rejecting some of Stiles' more reckless ideas - after all, the man had had more than a decade to get proficient in it - but he was definitely less prepared to say 'no' to Melissa… Especially when she was as determined as she was at the moment.
***
When the kids went to their respective schools - with the exception of Lydia, who went home to see her dad - Scott returned to the flat he shared with Deucalion. Seeing that his lover wasn't there at the present and he had a moment to think, he went to his desk, opened the drawer and took out a piece of paper. It had been written on and crossed out so many times it now looked mangled beyond recognition, as if an animal munched on it for the longest time, then spit it out.
He sat down and looked at what he called his 'time traveler to-do list', his mind working at high speed, trying to fit every big or small task listed there into two weeks' time. With mixed feelings he crossed out the line saying 'remove the Darach threat', but it didn't change the fact that the list was still much too long.
After staring at the page for what seemed like an eternity, he realized that there was no possibility to complete the entire list in such a short period of time… Or at least, not by himself. It was high time he enlisted his pack's help, because there was no way he'd be able to do all of this alone.
He was in the process of dividing the tasks into four groups, using the good old Eisenhower matrix that applied importance and urgency as a key to have them all sorted and prioritized - let it not be said that he wasn't paying attention when a topic at school actually seemed useful - when his phone beeped and he glanced at the message.
It was Matt.
I'm leaving for LA tomorrow, so you're going to have your Sunday mornings free from now on.
He snorted, because that was just like Matt to try to say goodbye without actually saying the word.
You're not going to weasel your way out of a proper goodbye. Are you at home?
He waited only a few seconds before Matt replied: I'm packing my stuff, so I'm kinda busy right now.
Nice try, but that's a piss-poor excuse and you know it. I'm coming to your place, I'll be there in half an hour, he informed the boy, then added: I might be even tempted to give you a hug, so be prepared.
He actually laughed out loud when he saw the boy's short response. You're a menace.
That wasn't a 'no,' so in Matt-speech, it meant enthusiastic approval.
***
Matt's parents were happy to see him, and he wished them a safe trip before he went upstairs to Matt's room. To his surprise, it was already almost completely empty, not counting the bare furniture and a stack of boxes sealed with packaging tape. All in all, it was quite a depressing sight, and he wasn't the least surprised to see the boy sitting on the floor with his back to the wall, looking gloomy.
Scott sat down beside him, bumping their arms together. Matt only scowled at him, but didn't say anything, and they kept sitting in comfortable silence for a couple of minutes.
"How did you know that teaching me to swim was going to help?" The boy asked finally.
"I didn't," he answered honestly. "I'm not a real therapist. But it seemed to me that everything that happened to you, at the Laheys' and in the Eichen House, robbed you of a feeling of being in control of your life, so I wanted to give you that feeling back. Now you're controlling how your body reacts in the water, not the other way around. I guess I just hoped that it would be the first step for you to regain your self-confidence."
The boy scoffed. "I am self-confident, I've always been."
"Then why does moving to another city worry you so much?" He asked gently. Matt's brow furrowed, but he didn't reply, so Scott didn't press the issue and decided to change the subject. "Actually, I have a favor to ask. There's at least one werewolf pack in LA, potentially more. Do you think you could have your eyes and ears opened for anything supernatural-related and let me or Deputy Parrish know if you learn anything? I'll give you his number, just in case."
Matt's eyes gleamed with interest and he nodded eagerly, so Scott told him everything he remembered about Alec and his current pack. The boy listened attentively and it was clear that he appreciated having something to take his mind off his own issues.
Before going home, Scott made sure to pull Matt into a much needed hug, and after the first awkward moment, the boy returned the embrace with surprising strength.
"Thank you for not giving up on me."
Scott patted him on the back. "You deserved a second chance, and you've already proven that it was the right decision."
After having to kill Julia, it was also good for Scott to be reminded that not all villains were beyond help, and that his actions had already made a difference - for the better.
Chapter Text
Mrs Martin's funeral was hard for everyone, mainly because of Lydia's loss, but also because it was a harsh reminder that they were all still very much… mortal. Sometimes, with supernatural powers, enhanced healing and everything, it was quite easy to forget. But it didn't matter what they were, young or old, human or werewolf, the same darkness inevitably waited at the end of each of their roads.
Scott knew that better than anyone.
"Tell me that this is not the end, that there's an afterlife," Lydia demanded with tears in her eyes, gripping his hand tightly as people started to disperse after the service. "That I'll meet my mom again, someday."
He bit his lips, hesitating, before he admitted: "I don't know if there's a life as we know it, because as close as I got to it, I've never actually crossed that threshold. But there is something - that I know for sure."
"You sound as vague as Deaton," Lydia scoffed, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. "Would it hurt you to actually give me a straight answer for a change? Is there or is there not, a life after death?"
"I don't know, but I guess that soon I'll have the chance to find out," he gave her a sad smile.
Her eyes widened and she started to apologize, but he shrugged it off.
"It's not death that I fear, but leaving you all behind, knowing that you'll be hurting and I won't be here for you," he explained. "But I promise that if I get to see your mom on the other side, I'll tell her that you miss her and love her very much. Though I'm sure that she knew that already."
Hearing that, Lydia's lips started to tremble and he pulled her into a hug as she sobbed into his chest.
Tears are good, he thought to himself ruefully. They'll help her heal, eventually.
***
That evening the mood at home was quiet and somber, and for a moment he considered putting off his next task for later, but then decided against it. Time was not exactly something he had in abundance, lately.
He found Isaac on the fifth floor, in their parents' apartment. The adults tried to put on a strong face for the kids' sake, but they too were looking tired and weary, and it was clear that everyone was having a tough time, dealing with everything that had happened recently.
Scott took Isaac to the side and told him about meeting his father the other day. "He said he wanted to meet and talk with you, but I already told him it's up to you," he assured the boy.
Isaac frowned, undecided. "What do you think, should I say yes?"
"This is your chance to confront your father and tell him everything you've never had the chance to say before, but only if this is what you want. But if you don't feel ready-"
Isaac shook his head. "I don't fear him anymore. There's nothing that he can do that would hurt me more than what he already did."
"I won't let him lay a finger on you, but his words might still be hurtful," Scott warned him. "He doesn't seem like a changed man, just more depressed and miserable, but still very much as awful and blind to his own faults as before. Are you sure about this?"
"Yeah, I think I am," Isaac hesitated for a moment, then asked tentatively: "Do you think Chris could come with us? And mom?"
"I'm quite sure that if you ask them to come, there's not a power in the world that could actually stop them from coming."
Isaac smiled, looking relieved.
***
It turned out that not only Melissa and Chris agreed to come with them, but Peter was eager to be included as well. He was quite disappointed when Isaac declined, though, which he didn't fail to show in his typical manner.
"I'm hurt that you're excluding me from the family trip," Peter clutched at his chest with exaggeration. "My poor, poor heart, how will I cope…?"
They all chuckled at his theatrics, but Scott was actually grateful for the act, as it was the first thing that managed to lift their spirits since the funeral.
"Sorry uncle Peter, but the goal is to talk with my father, not intimidate him, or worse, rip him into shreds," Isaac patted the werewolf on the back consolingly. "But if he behaves badly, maybe I could send you afterwards to teach him a lesson, how does that sound?"
Peter grinned viciously. "Please do. I'll make sure to put the fear of God- I mean of the Hales, into him."
"Deal. And thank you, this means a lot to me," Isaac said honestly.
"Pfft, it's nothing. I absolutely love good, old-fashioned violence, but recently I haven't got that many opportunities to indulge myself," Peter pouted, making Isaac snigger.
Scott smiled too, though he was better aware than most that Peter actually meant it. Which reminded him that he really needed to find the man some outlet to vent his pent-up energy, or this could end up badly.
What surprised him, though, was that Allison didn't want to come with them when he asked her about it.
"Isaac will have all of you to have his back, so I know that he'll be fine. But after what happened to Mrs Martin, I was thinking…" she turned to Chris hesitantly. "Dad, could I stay with mom for a couple of days? I know that she was awful to you and even worse to Scott, but-"
"But she's still your mother," Chris nodded with understanding. "Of course you can stay with Victoria for a bit. But keep in touch, please, and maybe come back for the weekend?"
"I will, I promise. Thanks, dad," Allison embraced him tightly, then made a round to give everyone a hug. "I'll be back before you know it."
Then, she gave Isaac a quick kiss and wished him good luck in talking to his father, to which he muttered that he wasn't sure who needed that luck more: he with his father, or she with Victoria. Allison swatted him on the arm, outraged, but she still snickered at his words.
Seeing that both of them were willing to confront their parents, even though it wasn't going to be easy for either of them, made Scott think if he should talk with his own dad, after all. For all Rafael's recent knowledge of the supernatural world, the man had absolutely no idea about the fact that Scott was a time traveler - or that when he'd made that deal, it came with an expiry date.
***
Isaac breathed deeply, looking at the house that had stopped being his home a long while ago, even while he had still been living there. Too much of his pain, fear and despair had sunk deep into these walls; the floors were stained with his blood and tears, even if there was no visible sign of it now, after he'd been ordered to scrub them so long until they were perfectly clean.
Blood was a pain to get rid of, no matter the surface - that was one lesson his father's punishments had taught him.
He felt a warm hand on his back, and when he turned, he caught Chris' worried gaze.
"Are you going to be alright?"
"Yeah. Let's do it," he set his jaw stubbornly, then walked up to the door and rang the bell, his family standing right behind him.
He felt his heart beating furiously in his chest as he waited for his father to open the door. His palms were uncomfortably clammy, and he wiped them into his sweatpants nervously. He was wrong, he wasn't ready for this, this was a mistake-
"Hey, I've got you," Scott slipped into a spot next to him and took his hand for a second, caressing it with his thumb calmingly, before he let it go. "This is just like ripping a band-aid off. It'll hurt for only a minute, and then you'll start to heal."
Isaac exhaled slowly and nodded. A second later the door opened, revealing his father's sneering face. God, but the man looked awful. Smelled equally as bad too, of old sweat and stale alcohol. Was this really the monster that he'd been so afraid of for so long?...
Only the voice remained the same, sending unpleasant shivers down his spine.
"What's this? When I said I wanted to see you, I meant you, not anyone else."
Isaac straightened, determined to hold his ground. "We can either talk with them present, or not at all. You can either accept it, or there's nothing we have to talk about. So, how's it going to be?"
His father scowled at him, but reluctantly let them in. They all sat down in the living room, even though finding a spot to sit wasn't exactly an easy task, considering all the empty bottles and scattered food boxes from takeaways.
"So, how's school, son?" His father asked after a moment. "Have you finally improved your marks?"
Isaac stared at him with disbelief. This- This was the first topic his father wanted to touch on? Not the fact that the last time they'd seen each other, Isaac had been covered in blood from the bruises the man had caused?... Coming here, he hadn't exactly expected a tearful apology, but seeing his father actually pretending that nothing had happened felt bloody awful.
"Isaac's marks are, and always have been, good enough," Melissa said in a clipped tone.
"If you think of average as good enough, then you're not much of a parent, are you? Maybe you two shouldn't be allowed to raise kids, if you can't set them any goals," his father said condescendingly, and just like that, something in Isaac snapped. He stood up abruptly as he pointed a finger at the man.
"You want to insult me, fine, but don’t you dare say anything about my family. Melissa and Chris are my parents-"
His father stood up as well, his face reddening from anger. "I am your father, and your mother and brother are dead, you ungrateful brat! Is it not enough that you put them in their graves? It's all your fault that they're dead!"
In the corner of his eye Isaac could see Chris' and Melissa's outraged expressions, but the only person that got his attention at the moment was his father.
"No, if anyone is at fault it's you. Mother worked too much, even after she fell sick, because you couldn't be bothered to find a decent job, and Camden enlisted in the Army only to meet your expectations!"
"Now see here-"
"No, I'm not finished. Even now, you don't have the balls to admit that you did anything wrong, because it's easier to blame a kid for your own mistakes. You had beaten me, hurt me- but no more. I've got a new life, and new family, and you're left with nothing, you hear me? Nothing!"
The man tried to grab Isaac, but Chris swiftly caught his forearm in a tight grip and said coldly: "We're done here."
"I'm his father-"
"No, you're not, not anymore," Isaac shook his head, looking with disgust at the man. "You're only my childhood monster, made of my worst memories. So unless you're ready to actually apologize for every time you hit or belittled me, I don't want to see you ever again."
He turned on his heel and stormed out of the house. When he was outside, he let out a muffled sob, then took a shaky breath, desperately trying to calm himself down. He wasn't going to give the man the satisfaction of seeing him break down on his doorstep.
Hearing footsteps behind him, he turned around, only to be gathered into a hug by his true family. Chris rubbed his back, while Melissa wiped his wet cheeks gently with her thumbs, and each gesture made it a little easier for him to breathe.
"Let's go home," he said after a moment, once he didn't feel like he was going to fall apart anymore.
In the car he curled on the backseat, with Scott wrapped around him like a vine, apparently with no intention to let him go, and that was alright. Isaac didn't want to let him go either.
He put his head against the strong chest, and inhaled the familiar scent that brought back memories: of hugs, touches, kisses. Even though they had outgrown their relationship and moved on, Scott was always going to be his first love and his closest friend, and right now, Isaac needed that more than ever.
"Can you sleep with me tonight? Please?" He whispered quietly with his mouth against Scott's collarbone. "Just sleep, I promise."
"Of course."
He felt a kiss being pressed into his forehead and he closed his eyes, not thinking about anything, just letting himself be.
Chapter Text
Most of the time Allison could honestly say that her parents' divorce didn't bother her, she even supported their decision, since they seemed happier now than they had ever been while being still married to each other. But there were times when she simply missed her mom, and this was one of such days.
Mrs McCall was great and Allison truly felt that the pack was her family now, but… despite her awful attitude towards werewolves, Victoria was still her mom, and Allison didn't want to lose her.
That's why when Isaac went to talk with his father, she packed some basic things like her toothbrush and a change of clothes, plus her school stuff, and went to her car. When she called her mom she got no response, but she didn't let that deter her and she fished out Victoria's new address from her purse, determined to wait on the doorstep if need be.
She just parked the car when her mom called her back.
"Hi mom, I was wondering if I could stay with you for a couple of days?" she cradled the phone between her ear and shoulder as she swung the backpack on her other shoulder and closed the car door.
"Is everything alright?"
"I don't know if you heard about it, but my friend's mom got killed, and I- I just thought I'd stay with you for a bit. If that's alright," she bit her lower lip uncertainly.
"I'm sorry about your friend, and of course you can stay. I bet that your dad wasn't happy about it, though," Victoria added wryly. "When will you come over to my place? Do you have the address?"
"Actually, dad was really supportive, and I'm already here, so-" she glanced at the house number plaque to make sure she got the right address, and was about to knock when the door opened, revealing the last person she expected to see here. "Agent McCall? What are you doing here?"
They stared at each other for a second, when Victoria appeared behind the man, a phone still in her hand, her face darkening by the second.
"Your name is Rafael bloody McCall?"
Allison looked at the both of them without comprehension. "How do you know Scott's dad? Is this about the FBI stuff? Are you in trouble, mom?"
Victoria only shook her head, while Rafael looked stunned.
"Wait, Victoria's your mother?" He asked.
"Don't pretend you didn't know that, you lying son of a bitch…" Victoria growled. "What was your plan anyway, to get me to spill the hunters' plans, now that Chris has been cast out and you lot no longer have a viable source of information?"
"Whoa, what are you talking about?"
"Um, guys, I really think that we should take this inside," Allison suggested, casting nervous glances around, hoping that no one had overheard them. Judging by her mother's furious scowl, this wasn't going to be an easy conversation.
But the main question was: how Scott's dad fit into all of this? And how had he met her mom in the first place, if he hadn't been aware of who she was?...
***
As Scott got out of the car, Isaac still not leaving his side, he immediately sensed a supernatural scent in the air that didn't belong to the pack. It was very distinct, a spicy, intense smell that he recognized at once - a kitsune. And not just any kitsune either, but one he was quite familiar with.
"What is it?" Chris asked, immediately sensing that something was amiss.
"Noshiko is here," he said quietly, looking around, but he couldn't see anyone in the nearest vicinity. "Isaac, go back inside. Mom, you too, and if Peter's there, tell him to come down and bring the urn. Chris, stay with me."
"I thought she was one of the good guys?" Isaac frowned.
"She is, but she doesn't know that we're good guys too, which leaves us in quite a precarious situation, so stay in the building, alright?"
Once Isaac and Melissa went inside, he called out in the direction from which he sensed the supernatural presence: "There's no need to hide, so why don't you come out?"
He waited for a few seconds, but nothing happened. Just when he was opening his mouth again, the shadows around them thickened, coalescing into two ninja-like figures, faces covered with black masks that only revealed glowing golden-green eyes - the Oni. And they were approaching them with slow but sure movements, raising their katanas in preparation for a strike.
Shit. They didn't look like they were searching for the Nogitsune, they looked ready to fight.
"Chris, do you have any silver bullets?" He asked, thinking quickly.
"Not with me, they're upstairs-"
"Go get them, I'll hold them off. Go!"
Chris hesitated only for a second before he ran inside as if the devil was on his heels.
Scott exhaled slowly and centered himself, sharpening all his senses to their maximum capacity. When the first Oni lunged at him, he sidestepped the attacker easily, but then he had to twirl around to avoid getting stabbed by nearly thirty inches of hardened steel. He danced between the two Oni for a few moments, dodging and blocking hits, until he felt a blade slashing through his left thigh, drawing blood. It caused his anger to spike and he felt his fangs lengthening as he let out an irritated growl. Until now, he'd hoped that the Oni weren't sent specifically after him, but this- this was the proof that he was wrong.
He lunged at one of the Oni, grabbed its mask and tore it into two pieces, causing the black shadows its body was made of to disintegrate. A split second later he heard a gunshot and just as he felt a katana piercing his back, it disappeared along with the second Oni, leaving a shallow puncture in his torso that immediately healed itself. He turned around, only to see Chris standing by the door with his gun out, and a second later Peter appeared right behind him with Derek in tow.
Scott breathed heavily. Enough was enough, he thought to himself.
"Come out, Noshiko!!" He called out loudly, his voice augmented with the Alpha voice.
He heard a faint gasp coming from a nearby alley, and after a moment a woman appeared there walking in his direction, her movements jerky and unsteady, as if she was trying to resist what her body was doing.
"It seems that you've learned new tricks during your imprisonment. How did you manage to possess an Alpha werewolf, anyway?" Noshiko spat out once she stopped in front of him.
What?...
"You think that I'm being possessed by the Nogitsune?" he asked incredulously. "Is this why you sent the Oni after me?"
"I tried to order them to hunt you down, but since the order didn't take, I assumed that it's because you've already possessed someone. My best guess was a young Alpha who seemed to know too much about things he should have no knowledge of, since he wasn't even born when they took place. And I was right, wasn't I?" she asked triumphally.
Scott sighed and rubbed his face with his palm. It seemed that his foreknowledge finally raised someone's suspicion… Too bad that Noshiko drew completely wrong conclusions.
He shook his head. "No, you're not. If the Nogitsune was possessing someone, the Oni would try to complete your order and search through potential hosts by scanning their spirit. If a person would be free of possession, they would leave the kanji standing for 'self' behind their left ear."
"Enough with the talking, she tried to kill you, so how about we kill her? Quid pro quo, as they say," Peter grinned viciously as he, Derek and Chris approached the two of them.
"Peter," Scott rebuked him softly but firmly.
"Alright, alright. But if you change your mind-"
"You'll be the first to know, I promise," he assured his packmate and then turned to Noshiko. "I know things I shouldn't, not because I'm possessed, but because this isn't my first life. My older self was placed in my younger body, and ever since I tried to right the wrongs from my earlier life… including dealing with a malevolent spirit placed recklessly in a fucking glass jar. Really, Noshiko, this was the most secure place you could think of?"
She blinked, taken aback. "The Nemeton-"
"All supernatural creatures have access to the Nemeton in a time of need," he reminded her sharply. "Anyone could have broken that jar, even by accident. So let me ask you again: What the hell were you thinking?"
She straightened proudly. "Even if this isn't your first life, and I'm still not convinced this is true, I'm still your senior by several centuries. Not to mention, I'm a kitsune, so I don't answer to you, werewolf."
"You really think that your age or power gives you the right to endanger people's lives without consequences? Two young, human boys had been possessed by the Nogitsune, does this mean nothing to you?" he asked, thinking of both Stiles and Mason.
She finally dropped her arrogant act and started to look worried. "What happened? Are they alright? Where's Nogitsune now?"
Scott looked at Peter, who took the clue and raised his hand holding the Nemeton urn.
"In this nifty little box. Though the fly was in a pretty bad shape when we placed it in it," Peter said smugly.
Noshiko's brow furrowed. "What do you mean, in a bad shape?"
"Immobile, so it was either unconscious, catatonic or dead, but we didn't wait around to find out. But if you have more of those handy tails of yours, maybe we should open the box and find out?" Peter wiggled his eyebrows, causing Noshiko to scoff at him.
***
Scott knew that Peter had made that suggestion as a joke, but in the end, they decided to do exactly as he suggested, only in their basement rather than in the open.
"I don't like it, that woman tried to kill you," Chris muttered unhappily as they were walking down the stairs.
Scott squeezed his shoulder. "I know - and thank you for having my back, by the way - but she genuinely thought that I was possessed by the Nogitsune. It doesn't excuse her readiness to resort to lethal means without having all the facts, but it doesn't make her an evil person, just a faulty and misguided one."
"You know that I can hear you just fine," Noshiko drawled as she followed them, flanked by Peter and Derek.
"Good, because it saves me from saying the same thing twice," Scott said in a clipped tone, because he wasn't entirely over the fact that she'd tried to kill him without any solid proof that he'd been possessed. Besides, fighting Oni brought back the memory of losing Allison the first time around, and it left him more than a little short-tempered.
They closed the door to the basement, then formed a circle, with Peter standing in the middle. When Scott gave him a nod, he opened the box, and they all stopped breathing for a moment, but nothing happened. Then, Peter turned the urn upside down and the fly fell down to the floor, just as stiff and unmoving as the day when they'd captured it.
"It's really dead," Noshiko whispered, her voice trembling. She took a step forward and crushed the fly under her heel, which caused the insect's body to turn into a small pile of black ash. Then, the woman looked up, something akin to fear entering her dark eyes. "How did you manage to kill a thousand year old Void kitsune? It should be impossible, the fox spirits are immortal."
"There are powers in this world lethal even to the most powerful of creatures," Scott pointed out. "This is what the whole universe is built around: balance. No one is truly invincible. Trust me, I'd know."
Chapter Text
"I guess I owe you an apology, then," Noshiko said matter-of-factly, not sounding contrite in the slightest. "Satomi mentioned that you have a request for me to find some missing people, so I'll hear you out. But mind that I'm not agreeing to anything just yet, I just want to hear what this is all about."
Scott gritted his teeth, because after the woman had tried to get him killed, hearing him out was the bare minimum he expected of her. Still, he reigned in his anger, and told her the simplified version of events, the attack on the Dunbars and the following trial, including his father's involvement as the FBI agent.
"You're a celestial kitsune, and I know for a fact that you can sense the soul of any living person in the world. Will you agree to help us with this?" he looked hopefully at her.
"I'm very interested in how you learned about my skills, since this is an arcane knowledge known to very few, but I assume that this was during your supposed first life?" When Scott nodded, she scoffed. "That tale seems even more outlandish than the first time I've heard it. Boy, I've been living on this earth for more than nine hundred years, and I haven't met even a single time traveller yet-"
"Your daughter, Kira, is a thunder kitsune," he interrupted her, stunning her into silence. "I know, because I've seen with my own eyes what she is capable of. She's going to be powerful, but she's also going to struggle to control her powers and rein in the fox spirit within her. She's going to struggle so much that the other you sent her to the Skinwalkers for training. Since I'm sure you're aware of their… rather brutal methods, you can imagine how desperate the other you were to make this decision."
For the first time since they'd met, Noshiko lost her composure and looked moved to the core, her face ashen and drawn with worry.
"Did they help her?" she rasped.
"They did, eventually, but it took them years, and the time apart from the real world has taken its toll on Kira," he admitted. "She grew… detached, almost unfeeling, and was never that bright, funny, awkward, spontaneous girl ever again. I'm sorry to say this, but- I feel like the price for her training was too high. Maybe this time around, knowing what you know now, you'll find a better way to teach her control."
It was one of his biggest regrets, that he hadn't done anything to stop Kira from leaving the pack. He'd truly believed that he was doing the right thing, back then, that it was for her own good as well as everyone else's, because otherwise the kitsune inside her would take control of her - not unlike how the Nogitsune had when he possessed Stiles.
But was that truly the greater good, if he had been feeling his packbond with Kira straining and decaying for months on end, until it had snapped like a twig?...
"Kira was my packmate, once," he added, looking Noshiko straight in the eye, while omitting the fact that the girl had also been his lover, because parents are always most afraid of their daughters being taken advantage of. He didn't want Noshiko to think that he had a hidden agenda where Kira was concerned, because that couldn't be further from the truth. "If there's anything I can do to help her, I will. If you need any information about Kira from my former life, I'll gladly share them with you. I can even show you my memories, if you'd allow me into your mind."
"Thank you for the offer, but I'd have to think about it," she said carefully, looking weary about the prospect of letting him muck around in her mind.
"That's fine, but don’t think too long. I don't expect to live for much longer, since the universe is soon going to demand that I pay for the changes that I made to the timeline."
Her eyes widened with a sudden realization. "The balance…"
"Yeah," he nodded, suddenly feeling tired and worn out. "Will you help me find those people that were kidnapped and shipped off from the country? I probably don't have much time left, and I'd like to see it through before my time is up."
For all his power and knowledge, he couldn't force her to help, he could only ask and hope that Noshiko would agree. After all, he wasn't going to threaten to withhold the information about Kira unless she agreed, because if she declined, it would only lower Kira's chances of getting through the next years in a better shape than the first time around. He couldn't risk that, he needed Noshiko to find a better way to teach Kira control then shipping her off to the Skinwalkers.
The woman considered him carefully for a long moment. "I'll help you, but if what you're saying is true, I might need those memories after all," before they're lost with him, she didn't add. But then again, she didn't have to.
"Thank you," he said sincerely. "Can you tell us what you need to track people? Would a photo be enough, or do you need something that belonged to them?"
"I don't sense their physical bodies, I sense their souls, so it needs to be something that they had a personal connection with. A photo would be fine if it showed a fond memory, a place or a person they felt strongly about. Same with personal possessions, it can't be just a random thing, but something that they would instantly recognize as theirs."
"Alright, I'll ask my father to speak with the families of the missing women and kids, to see if he can get his hands on something that meets the criteria," he promised.
They exchanged numbers and agreed to meet again once he had the required items. Afterwards, Noshiko left with a curt nod, leaving Scott alone with his packmates.
"Thanks, guys. I wouldn't have survived the fight with the Oni without you," he murmured thankfully.
"This time we were absolutely useless, since it was Chris who did all the work," Peter said with a self-deprecating smile, though he still gave his lover a grateful peck on the cheek with a whispered 'thank you'.
"Sometimes it pays off to have an ex-hunter in the team," Chris said smugly, circling Peter's waist with his arm. "Besides, it's you werewolves who usually get all the fame and spotlight. It feels good to remind you once in a while that we humans have our use too."
"I have absolutely no doubts about that," Peter murmured suggestively, drawing Chris into a deep kiss.
Derek made a disgusted sound, only to be completely ignored, so Scott took him by the arm and pulled him upstairs, leaving the two men behind them. Though he highly doubted that either Chris or Peter even noticed that…
Next, he needed to calm down the rest of the pack who was probably waiting anxiously upstairs. He also remembered that he needed to tell Deucalion that he was going to sleep with Isaac tonight, and he almost groaned out loud. His lover was not going to be thrilled about it, not even one bit.
***
To his surprise, though, Deucalion was actually quite understanding.
"Isaac just went through an emotionally wrecking event, of course he needs comfort and support after something like this," the man said gently. "Do I wish he asked someone else? Of course I do. But he trusts you more than anybody else, and I can't exactly fault him for that."
"So you really don't mind?"
Deucalion's face was grim as he replied: "Do I mind that you're going to spend a night with him? As long as it's strictly platonic, not at all. What I am vexed about is that when you sensed Noshiko's presence and anticipated that she might have hostile intentions, you didn't even think of calling me. Why? Didn't you think that I would like to be involved when my lover is fighting for his life?"
Ouch. That must have really hurt him, Scott realized guiltily.
"I'm sorry, love, it all happened so fast, I honestly didn’t think at all," he admitted. "I only knew that I needed Chris to get those silver bullets as fast as possible. It wasn't a deliberate decision to exclude you, I swear."
In response, Deucalion cradled his face in his palms. "From now on, wherever you go out of the building, I'll go too. Promise me, Scott. I can't bear the thought that you might need me and I won't be there for you."
"I promise."
He was sincere, he really was, and Deucalion must have sensed that as the man drew him into a kiss.
Still, there was one instance that Scott knew that he'll have to break his promise, and that was the summer solstice. Whatever was going to happen that day, he didn't want Deucalion - or anyone from their packs - to witness it. After all, it would only serve to break their hearts and cause them even more pain, and he was determined to do everything in his power to shield them from it.
Chapter Text
"So, your son is the very same Alpha whose meddling cost me my marriage," Victoria hissed, glaring at Rafael.
"Scott saved my life," Allison reminded her firmly. "I wouldn't be standing here if he didn't heal me."
Victoria huffed with impatience. "The Calaveras wouldn't have been in Beacon Hills in the first place if it wasn't for him…"
"And whose fault was that? You tried to shoot him, mom!"
Hearing this, Rafael straightened in alarm. "You did what?!"
Victoria sighed. It seemed that her past wrongdoings were determined to bite her in the ass today, repeatedly. The only consolation was that Rafael seemed oblivious to who she was and what she'd done, but if all of this was truly a huge coincidence, then the gods or fates or whichever higher powers were responsible for their chance meeting in the bar, were probably laughing their asses off right now.
"It's quite simple, really. I'm a werewolf hunter, he's a werewolf. It shouldn't take a genius to put two and two together and figure out that he's my natural enemy."
He leveled her with an unimpressed stare. "So you kill every werewolf that crosses your path? Fuck, I knew that you were tough, even ruthless, but I didn't take you for a murderer," he shook his head with shocked disbelief. "You and me, we're done, and if I ever hear that you killed anyone, I'll make sure to put you in jail."
Victoria watched with growing horror as he crossed the room to leave.
Damn, it wasn't fair! He was the first man in a very long time to actually arouse her interest, and who wasn't intimidated or put off by her strong personality. Most guys were either too weak or felt threatened by her toughness, but Rafael was one of the very few men who was able to keep up with her without turning their relationship - casual as it was - into an unhealthy competition. She didn't want it to end, especially not like that!...
"Wait, you can't just leave like that," she protested.
When he turned to her, his expression wasn't just cold, it was icy.
"If Scott's your enemy, then we have nothing to talk about. I'll always choose my son above you, above everyone really, so give me one reason why I should stay in the same room with you for even a moment longer."
She met his eyes without flinching. "Because I may not like your son, but I no longer want to kill him."
"That's not enough," he uttered through gritted teeth, then before she could react, he stomped out of the apartment, leaving her staring at the door which he'd just closed behind him with a little too much force than necessary.
The silence that he left behind him rang in their ears, and Victoria felt as if someone knocked her head with something blunt and heavy.
"What did he mean when he said that you're done? Who is he to you, mom?" Allison asked curiously.
"No one," she said dispassionately, while inside she was fuming.
First Chris, now Rafael… It seemed that she was doomed to lose every man she's ever cared about because of Scott fucking McCall. How was she supposed to have known that one single attempt on that werewolf's life would have such far-reaching consequences?...
***
Rafael couldn't believe it, the woman he'd been sleeping with for the past few weeks was a werewolf hunter, of all things. While Scott had warned him that hunters exist, up until now the knowledge was purely abstract to him, theoretical even. Knowing what he knew now, though, he couldn't stand to look at Victoria without imagining her with a gun pointed at Scott, pulling the trigger.
He wished he could talk with someone about it, and ask what had really happened, then he started to wonder if Melissa knew about the whole thing. Was she aware that the world their son belonged to now was much more dangerous than either of them could have anticipated? Considering that she'd been dating a werewolf, he reckoned that she must have at least some idea about what she'd gotten into.
Better than him, apparently.
Tomorrow he'd ask Scott about the werewolf hunters, he promised himself. However, in the morning his son beat him to it and called him first.
"Hi dad, can you drop by our new place? I have some updates for you, and a question regarding the kidnapped people."
He couldn't help the way his chest swelled at the easy, effortless way Scott called him 'dad'. After being estranged from him for years on end - which was mostly his own fault, he could finally admit it to himself - Rafael treasured their newfound rapport more than anything.
"Sure," he agreed. "I have some questions of my own too, but let's meet first. When will you be back home from school?"
"Um, I'm not at school at the moment," Scott admitted.
"But don’t you have exams this week?"
"That's one of the things I actually need to talk with you about. Can you get here in half an hour?"
"I'll be there in twenty minutes tops. I hope there's a valid explanation why you're missing school," he warned.
An hour later, once he'd received that explanation, he wished bitterly that he hadn't.
Any doubts that he might have about the whole time travelling business quickly disappeared as all the puzzle pieces that had been confusing and vexing him to no end suddenly fell into place. Scott's weirdly adult act, his decisiveness and maturity. Also, the way everyone was treating him as a leader and listened to him - all of it suddenly started to make sense, so denial was no longer on the table.
Still, a huge part of him wished he could remain oblivious to the fact that his boy was no longer a boy - physically, sure, but not mentally - and that after finally being reunited with Scott he was going to lose him all over again, only this time permanently.
Not even learning that they had a real chance of finding the missing women and kids managed to lift his spirits, because as much as he wanted to help them and finish the mission, nothing was as important to him as his own son.
Scott patted him comfortingly on the arm, and damn, he should be the one comforting him, not the other way around!
"I'm so sorry, dad. I can only hope that the price I'll be forced to pay is not going to be so… final, but we have to prepare for the worst."
He shook his head vehemently. "I don't want to believe that. I can't. There's got to be a way out of it."
"None that I'm willing to risk, as it would endanger everyone I care about, mom and you included. Let it go, please. Also, you had some questions for me?"
Rafael snorted at the obvious attempt at changing the subject. "I wanted to ask you about the werewolf hunters, but I guess the point is moot now, isn't it?"
"They're the least of my concerns at the moment," Scott admitted.
Rafael hesitated, before he asked: "Can you tell me what transpired between you and Allison's mother?"
He managed to surprise Scott, who looked taken aback at the question.
"Victoria? Why do you want to know, did she cause any more trouble? I was under the impression that even if she was far from friendly, she ceased actively persecuting us."
'Us, werewolves', Scott almost said, and it made Rafael angry at his own uselessness. Damn it, he should be able to shield his own son from everything life would throw at him, but as a mere human in the supernatural world he was probably more of a hindrance than help.
"Did she really attempt to kill you?" He asked, hoping that maybe it wasn't an intentional act on Victoria's part. Maybe it was just an accident?...
However, Scott quickly disabused him of that notion.
"She did, but her husband - well, now ex-husband - took the bullet for me," Scott tilted his head curiously to the side. "What's going on, dad? How do you know Victoria?"
"It doesn't matter now, we have more important things on our plates," he closed the subject abruptly. Scott seemed to sense that he didn't want to talk about it, as he nodded with acceptance and didn’t press further.
In all honesty, Rafael would rather focus on finding the missing people, as well as figuring out a way to keep his son alive, than think about the woman who had managed to ensnare him while hiding her true self and the things that she'd done. It's not like Victoria and he had had anything serious going on - though there'd been moments when he'd considered it - but it still didn't sit well with him that she'd tried to kill another person because of what they were.
And considering that that person was his son, well... He needed to forget about her, the sooner the better.
***
Just when Scott thought he had everything in hand and didn't forget about anything important, Braeden called to let him know that she'd found the Desert Wolf.
"What's the plan now?" the mercenary asked.
"Don't engage her just yet. Text me the address and I'll either come myself or send Peter, instead," he replied, thinking quickly.
"Are you sure that's a good idea? He's already tried to go behind your back once, he can do it again."
"You don't have to worry about that, Peter has learned his lesson," he assured her. "I'll get back to you soon, but until I do, lay low, alright?"
"You're the boss," he could almost sense her shrug before she hung up.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to figure out how to organize all the work that needed to be done.
There was one more task that he hadn't even started yet but in hindsight seemed more important than everything else, even more than dealing with the Desert Wolf… Because as dangerous as Corinne was, she couldn't hold a candle to the Dread Doctors.
He called Noshiko and was glad when the woman picked up almost immediately.
"Hello?"
"Hi Noshiko, I'm calling to tell you that my father is working on the items that you need to find the kidnapped people, but there's one more person that I need you to find... I don't have anything that belonged to him, though. Would a place be enough?"
"What kind of place? It has to be a source of intense emotions, otherwise I won't be able to connect with the person that you seek."
"Does it matter if the emotions are positive or negative?" he asks.
"It doesn't, as long as they're strong, and specific enough for the person that you want me to focus on. I'd also need to know more about how it's connected to our target. What place exactly are we talking about?"
Scott hesitates for a moment, not sure how much he should reveal to her, since after the incident with the Oni he's not sure if he can fully trust her yet.
"A bridge over a creek," he says finally, reminding himself that it was not the time to doubt his allies, no matter how difficult they'd been at first. "I'm trying to find a boy whose sister fell into that creek and died of hypothermia."
"So I'll be focusing on sadness?" Noshiko asked matter-of-factly.
"Sadness, guilt, and possibly satisfaction. I don't know if Theo has pushed his sister or simply refrained from killing her, but what I know for sure is that he didn't try to save her."
Noshiko is silent for a moment. "If you want to find him just to punish him-"
"No, no, it's not like that. He was never fully a part of my pack due to… let's say trust issues, but I don't want to hurt him, I want to save him."
And also kill centuries-old freaks who were messing with nature's laws by trying to artificially create supernatural creatures, not to mention resurrect the Beast of Gevaudan… If he can thwart the Dread Doctors' plans before they even start creating the Chimeras, then that would mean less things for his pack to worry about once he's gone.
Chapter Text
In the end, Scott was forced to admit that he won't be able to complete everything he'd planned before his time was over. This was a bitter realization - that no matter how hard he tried, it was never enough, since his pack would always have dangers to face, challenges to overcome, and there was nothing he could do about it.
And maybe he shouldn't, because if he did, he would cripple his packmates' ability to grow and learn, and would stop them from becoming stronger. He only hoped that whatever changes he'd already made, they would make enough of a difference to save lives and hopefully, also stop the war from happening, even though that was just wishful thinking on his part. It's not like he could change human nature, after all.
He divided the remaining tasks as best as he could. Chris was tasked to get in touch with his contacts in Japan and try to get some intel on who on the police side wasn't corrupted and/or in league with the Yakuza. Peter would join Braeden to confront the Desert Wolf to see if she still wanted to kill Malia. And last but not least, Jordan and Deucalion were going to help him to bring down the Dread Doctors and save Theo from their clutches.
"We want to help too," the twins volunteered the moment he explained his plan.
Scott looked at them consideringly. "I wonder if you'll be able to master merging in the next few days…"
Aiden glanced briefly at Ethan, before he nodded, his face grim. "We'll train as hard as we have to. But even if we won't learn to merge this fast, having two additional Alphas to watch your backs might come in handy."
Scott nodded. "You've got a point."
"Did the other me ever tell you how he came up with the idea of the twins merging in the first place?" Deucalion asked him curiously.
"He said something about how Aiden and Ethan were unique, because they had two human souls, but only one Alpha power. That the spark didn't simply multiply once they simultaneously killed their previous Alpha, but it broke down into two pieces."
"That's why they had the ability to merge - because what's broken wants to be made whole again…" An understanding suddenly dawned on Deucalion, and Scott could almost see the cogs turning in his mind as the man fell silent, considering the endless possibilities such a phenomenon could be used for.
Knowing better than to come between Deucalion and his inner scholar, he squeezed his lover's hand, thanked the twins for their offer of help, then went upstairs looking for Chris.
He found the man with Peter - no surprise here - while Melissa was bustling about in the kitchen.
He flopped on the sofa beside Chris and asked: "Remember when I asked you the other day if you could get me, Jordan and Deucalion, an EMP-resistant gear?"
"It's hard to forget a request for military-grade equipment that would make the three of you like walking Faraday cages," Chris commented wryly. "Why?""
"We'll need some EMP protection for the twins too. Can your supplier still adjust the order?"
"I'll ask and let you know."
Scott beamed at him. "Thank you!"
"Wait, Faraday cages? What are you preparing for, electromagnetic warfare?" Peter stared at them.
Scott and Chris shared a conspiratorial look.
"Let's just say that my previous experiences with the Dread Doctors taught me that mere brute force might not be enough to win with them. Their combined use of scientific and supernatural elements gave them an advantage which I fully intend to be prepared for. So no artificially induced asthma attacks this time around," Scott smirked.
Peter actually looked impressed, and it wasn't something that happened often. He tilted his head, as if pondering something, then said almost offhandedly: "It's been a while since the last time you bit me."
Scott's eyes widened with surprise, before he understood. "Switch places with Chris and come closer, then."
"You heard the Alpha, budge over," Peter nudged Chris slightly and when the ex-hunter complied, Peter slipped into the space beside Scott.
"Where do you want the bite?"
Peter's eyes were hungry, almost ravenous as he said: "The base of my neck."
"Do you want me to leave a mark?" Scott asked, just to double check, though he already suspected what the answer was going to be.
"Of course I do."
Peter hissed sharply when Scott's fangs pierced his skin, but then he exhaled softly as his eyelids fluttered and closed.
"I don't think I'll ever understand this part of your relationship…" Chris' watched them with a mix of horror and wonder.
Scott curled his arms around Peter, letting his packmate rest his back against his chest. "It helps to ground him," he explained quietly.
"Don't talk about me like I'm not here," Peter muttered, though the complaint sounded half-hearted at best.
"I just want to understand what drives you to do this," Chris admitted. "Why do you enjoy being bitten?"
"It's hard to explain. For a few moments after the bite my mind empties completely, there are no thoughts, no conflicting needs, wants or ambitions… It feels like I'm feather-light, almost weightless," Peter murmured with his eyes still closed.
In response, Scott tightened his hold around him protectively. He looked up just to catch the sight of his mom watching them from the kitchen, but she didn't seem to be shocked or outraged, so he took it as a sign of her acceptance of their weird werewolf ways.
***
The only adult werewolf left without any specific task was Derek. Scott was painfully aware that his Beta wasn't happy about it, so after he'd said goodbye to Peter and Chris, he went to Derek's loft. His packmate greeted him with a scowl, but Scott had to admit that he deserved it.
"I know that you're angry and disappointed with my decision that you're staying in Beacon Hills, but I really don't want to leave all the kids without adult supervision," he explained.
"So everyone else is going to fight for their lives or save people, or both, but I should be thankful to be assigned as a babysitter?" Derek drawled, crossing his arms on his chest.
"The pack means everything to me. I know that there's a very miniscule chance that anything will happen while we're away, but… I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if anything happened to the kids. Please, Derek," he begged. "Promise me that you'll keep an eye on everyone."
Derek's eyes softened a little. "You know that I will. It's just that- Ever since I lost my Alpha spark, I feel so useless, like I can't keep up with you anymore. Your power is growing still, but mine… is not."
Scott crossed the distance between them and grabbed Derek's arms, his grip tight and - hopefully - also reassuring.
"Your value doesn't lie in your power or physical strength, you're the most steadfast, reliable and trustworthy werewolf in the pack. In fact, the only person that can compete with your loyalty to me is Jordan. I wouldn't ask you to watch over the young ones if I didn't have complete faith in your abilities."
Derek grimaced. "You certainly know how to sweeten a crappy deal."
"Maybe. But I meant what I said, every single word," he said with feeling. That finally caused his packmate to relax his stance, so he added: "Do you really want to argue when we can cuddle, instead?"
In response, Derek grabbed his hand and pulled him onto the bed with such eagerness that Scott laughed out loud, relieved that his Beta wasn't angry with him anymore. They snuggled together, wrapping arms around each other so that there was barely any space between their bodies... Their respective boyfriends might have even found their position a little too intimate if it wasn't for the fact that they were both clothed.
After a long moment of a warm, comfortable, almost drowsy silence, Derek murmured: "Do you remember how we first met? I was so lost before you came into my life, I can't imagine what my life would've been like if it wasn't for you."
Scott instantly recalled the closed off, lonely, but also hopeful young man who only ever wished for a pack, nothing more and nothing less. Then, he realized that for the first time he'd truly thought only about this Derek, without remembering at the same time his counterpart from the earlier timeline… Such a small change, but somehow it felt like a huge milestone.
This was his life now, he thought to himself. He wasn't misplaced, this was exactly the time and place where he was supposed to be.
"Of course I remember. I'll always remember," he whispered, pressing a chaste, loving kiss onto his Beta's chest, as the bond between them hummed with happiness.
Chapter Text
"This should be it," Noshiko pointed ahead at the nondestructive industrial building which at first seemed abandoned, judging by the holes in the roof and the wild vegetation growing unchecked on the premises. "The presence that I felt by the creek, it leads here."
"Thank you," Scott said sincerely, since he couldn't have found this place without her help. Normally he could track his future packmates by the links he shared with them, but it wasn't the case with Theo as the Chimera hadn't truly bonded with him in the first life.
Shortly after Theo had been freed from Hell, Scott had refused the boy's plea to accept him into the pack, and once he'd reconsidered, it was already too late and Theo had grown aloof, probably due to his wounded pride. And even though the boy had helped the pack on occasion, he'd never become a part of it and remained on the outside until he'd been killed in a particularly vicious skirmish with Monroe's hunters.
"You're welcome. But as I said before, I'm not going inside," the woman reminded him.
"It's fine, I understand. It's not your fight, after all," he nodded, then looked at his packmates. "Okay guys, let's do this. Aiden, Ethan, I know that back home you managed to merge, but it's still a new skill for you. Besides, we don’t have the EMP-resistant gear that would fit such a huge form, so as long as you are in your vests and they work as intended, don't attempt merging, alright?"
The boys nodded with agreement, and the five of them left Noshiko by the cars, walking cautiously towards the building.
"Deucalion, how many heartbeats can you hear inside?"
His lover stopped for a moment, focusing on his senses and listening to the sounds coming from the building. "Four or five, it's hard to tell since one of them is so very slow I can't be certain if it's really a heartbeat or something else."
He frowned, thinking quickly. "The slower one might be the Löwenmensch, the Lion-werewolf hybrid that they keep imprisoned in a tube, but he's not a threat at the moment."
"What are the orders, then?" Jordan asked, his expression grim.
"Regarding the Dread Doctors? Kill on sight, as fast as possible. We should have the advantage of the surprise factor, but we can't rule out the possibility that they have the technology alerting them if someone enters the building."
"Got it. Should we split up or go in a group?"
Scott hesitated for a moment as he considered the question. Would they be an easier target if they separate or go together?
"We enter the building in a group, and then we'll see," he decided. They were a wolf pack, so they should fight together, unless the circumstances force them to separate.
Everyone nodded their consent, and then they approached the heavy iron door. They would be difficult to open by an average human, but as werewolves they didn't have that issue. The door creaked loudly as they opened them, though, and Scott held his breath nervously, but nothing happened. When they took a cautious step inside, they saw a corridor forking into two separate pathways leading left and right.
"Alright, it looks like we need to split, after all. Jordan, go with the twins while I'll go with Deucalion. If anything happens, we can alert each other via our bonds, since I don't trust technology where the Dread Doctors are concerned. Stay safe," he patted the Hellhound on the back, and then took the left pathway.
Deucalion joined him after a second and they walked side by side, tense and on high alert, but so far the corridor was empty.
"I'm surprised you didn't tell me to go with the twins. You and that hound are usually joined by the hip," Deucalion muttered under his breath, and Scott gave him a wry smile.
"After the fight with the Oni I promised not to leave your sight, remember?"
In response, Deucalion pushed him against the wall and gave him a quick but heated kiss that left him lightheaded and more than a little aroused. "Don't you die on me here, do you understand?"
Scott exhaled shakily. "I'll try not to, but just so you know - it applies to both of us."
Deucalion squeezed his hand and nodded, and then they continued walking ahead. Scott could hear his own quickened heartbeat as if it was a drum in his chest, and he tried to ignore it and focus on the area around him. The corridor then led to the right, and the moment they reached the turn, they were assaulted by a series of sharp objects sent from around the corner. Luckily, their gear managed to shield them from most missiles, but Scott still got hit on the arm where the plates were connected, and he grunted because of the impact.
Seeing a door at the end of the corridor, he ignored the pain and ran ahead, dodging the missiles as best as he could, though in the corner of his eye he saw that Deucalion stumbled as he got hit below the knee. They managed to cross the distance in time and jumped through the doorway just a second before the door closed with a loud thud. He didn't get the chance to look around, though, when something hard and heavy hit him on the back of his head and darkness claimed him as he fell in a heap to the ground.
***
He woke up to the sound of metal clanking against metal, and he blinked dazedly, before he sat up in alarm - or he would have, if it wasn't for heavy chains keeping him in place. He looked around only to see that he was naked and shackled to what seemed to be a cross between an altar and an operating table. The air stank of old and fresh blood, sweat and ash, the last one coming from what looked like a forge, now alight with fire.
When he heard a muffled groan, he jerked his head to the left and saw Deucalion chained to another table, similar to his, looking to be still half-conscious.
"Subject number 1: an Alpha Werewolf, strength: needs more testing to determine the exact level. Durability and resistance against elements: not tested."
Scott inhaled sharply as he recognized the Surgeon's voice as the man hovered above him. He could also hear the clanking of the keys and glanced to where the Geneticist looked to be making notes on an old-fashioned typewriter. Then, the Surgeon leaned back and approached Deucalion.
"Subject number 2: an augmented Alpha Werewolf, strength: upper scale. Durability and resistance against elements: not tested."
"The strength should be 'off the scale', you inbred monkey," Deucalion rasped out as he regained his consciousness.
The Doctor tilted his head curiously. "Let's start the testing with subject number 2, then. First, let's verify its tensile strength."
Scott could vaguely recall the term from his physics lessons, but didn't remember what it meant until the Surgeon put loops around Deucalion's wrists and ankles, and then the definition came back to him: the maximum stress that a material can withstand while being stretched before breaking, and he felt dread at the thought that Deucalion was going to be pulled apart right before his eyes.
Calm down, he told himself, you won't help him if you freak out. He couldn't let his lover be tortured, not if he could do anything about it.
"You're going about it all wrong, you know," he called out loudly. "You won't resurrect the Beast of Gevaudan with those tests and experiments of yours."
The Surgeon froze, then turned his head in Scott's direction. "You know about our goal."
"I know more than that. I know you, Marcel. I know that you were Sebastian Valet's best friend. But what's more, I know that in order to resurrect him, you shouldn't focus on the strength or resistance of your subjects. You need to find someone good and pure, because true evil only comes from corrupting something truly good."
The Surgeon approached him slowly. "Continue," he ordered.
"That guy over there?" Scott pointed at Deucalion. "He's an augmented Alpha, you said it yourself, which means that he killed his own Betas to gain his power, so experimenting on him won't get you anywhere. I, on the other hand, am a True Alpha. I didn't kill anyone to become what I am, so if you want to perform your tests, perform them on me."
"You're offering to take his place? Interesting. Maybe you are going to be a better test subject, after all… But in that case, I believe that a different set of tests is in order. Assistant, put the rod into the fire."
Scott heard a quiet shuffling, and then he saw Theo carrying an iron rod, sharpened at the end, which the boy put into the forge without even sparing him a glance. At first, he didn't understand what the Surgeon had planned, until the Doctor claimed that the tool was hot enough and that Theo should put it into the "subject one's right eye socket". For a moment he couldn't breathe, as the realization sank in: the Doctors wanted to blind him, and had ordered Theo to be the one to do it.
It's not like he hadn't been blinded before, but never with hot iron, and he knew that it wasn't going to be easy to bear. After all, just because he had the advantage of the accelerated healing didn't mean that he didn't feel pain, or that being hurt by someone who had once been close to his pack wasn't going to feel any less of a betrayal.
"If you want to blind someone, take me, I don't care, just leave him alone!" Deucalion cried out hoarsely.
The Surgeon ignored him altogether as he grabbed Scott's head in a tight grip, put a strap around his forehead, immobilizing him, then nodded at Theo to proceed.
Only when the boy approached the table did he look at Scott and then his eyes widened in horror and recognition. Scott felt the tiniest hope that since Theo remembered him, it'd make a difference... But a second later, the boy's face hardened and he raised the rod, its tip so hot that it was almost white, then plunged it hard into Scott's eye without even a moment of hesitation.
He heard a howl, a cry so inhuman that it could only belong to an animal, and he didn't realize it was his, until his lungs ran out of air and the howl morphed into a breathless wheezing as he sagged onto the table, shaking from shock and pain. He faintly heard Deucalion shouts and cries, and even despite the agony that rocked his entire body he felt heart-breaking sorrow that his lover had to witness this.
Then, he heard the faint clicking of his shackles and with his only remaining eye, blurry as it was due to the hot tears that poured down his cheek, he saw that the Surgeon released him, then put that same rod, the end still dripping with blood, into his hand.
"Kill the boy, and we'll let your companion go, alive and without further harm. If you don't do as I say, the Alpha dies. This choice is yours, but decide quickly, because there will be no second chance," the Doctor warned him.
"Whoa- What are you playing at?!" Theo protested hotly.
"I'm testing the hypothesis that only corrupting something truly good can lead us to fulfilling our goals," the Doctor said impassionately. "Be thankful, you're going to be instrumental in our success."
"No, no, no, that wasn't our deal!" the boy licked his lips nervously, his eyes darting between the Surgeon and Scott. "McCall, you remember me, don't you? I didn't want to hurt you, I had no other choice, they- they made me! It's their fault, all of it! You can't-"
Scott stood up gingerly, his knees wobbling. He looked at the boy who'd blinded him without any hesitation or remorse, then recalled his first life when Theo had actually killed him. If he had to choose between Theo's and Deucalion's lives, he'd choose Deucalion, always, but was this really a choice that he was prepared to make? Was there really no other way out of this?...
Suddenly, he heard a soft hissing as the steel door started to literally melt right before their eyes, and he suppressed a triumphant grin.
The second the Surgeon's focus switched from him to the sudden disturbance, he shoved the rod between the man's suit and helmet, straight into the base of his neck, so deeply that he felt the blade scraping against the bone. The next moment, the door was shoved open and Jordan ran inside, the twins only one step behind him.
Chapter Text
Seeing Scott getting hurt right in front of his eyes and being unable to do anything about it… It was killing Deucalion from the inside. But no matter how much he struggled and pulled at the shackles holding him in place, they didn't show any sign of cracking.
It wasn't supposed to be like this, he thought to himself bitterly. What was the use of being one of the strongest Alphas in existence, of having killed his first pack for power, when it failed him the moment he needed it the most?... But these Doctors, they were professionals, and it was obvious that whatever alloy they'd used to make these chains, it was designed with the Alphas like him in mind.
He exhaled in relief when the twins and the Hellhound barged into the room. From the corner of his eye he saw Scott plunging the iron rod into the base of the male Doctor's neck, and when the Surgeon tried to pull back, Scott grabbed the man's mask and threw it away, then slashed his throat open with his claws.
Seeing her leader being killed, the other, female Doctor jumped up from her seat and used the electromagnetic field to form a shield around her formed of various metal appliances which the room was full of. However, at the sight of Scott's ruined eye, Parrish howled with fury and anguish, then ran straight into the barrier, trampling it in the process as the gear he was wearing absorbed most of the field's power. He tackled the woman onto the floor, then ignited his whole body, ignoring the pained shrieks as the Doctor's leather clothes caught on fire. Then, as if that wasn't enough, the Hellhound grabbed the first hard object that was in his vicinity, which from afar looked like a tool - a hammer, perhaps? - then started to repeatedly bludgeon the Doctor's head with it.
Deucalion didn't get to observe it any further than that, though, as he was approached by Scott, who was holding a key ring with a set of keys of various shapes and sizes.
"Just a second, love," Scott rasped out as he tried one key after another, and after a few tries he finally got the right one.
The moment he was freed, Deucalion grabbed Scott into a desperate hug, murmuring frantic apologies and kissing each part of his lover's face and neck that was within his reach, while also being extra careful not to aggravate the wound. Then, he cradled Scott's cheeks in his palms and kissed him on the lips, putting all his love and admiration and into it, hoping to accelerate the healing process that way. After all, if a true love's kiss had the power to heal the worst of injuries, then the force of his feelings should be enough to rescue his lover even from the brink of death. However, when he pulled back, he was horrified to see that Scott's right eye still had a gaping hole in it, and the skin around it was as inflamed as a moment before.
"I don't understand, the wound should have healed by now," he despaired. "Why didn't it work?"
"It's alright, I'm just suppressing the healing at the moment," Scott gave him a weak smile.
"What- But why?"
"When Theo used the rod, I could feel it getting stuck in the bone, shattering it as it was being pulled away. I need to first get all the bone shards removed from the wound before I can allow it to heal. Which sucks, because the pain is getting worse and worse as the adrenaline wears off. I think I'm gonna be sick…" True to his words, Scott doubled over and threw up on the floor, then wiped his mouth as he straightened up slowly. "Ugh, sorry about that."
Deucalion frowned. "You have nothing to apologize for. Now, come closer and give me your hand."
Scott complied, then sagged against him with relief as black lines started to twirl up Deucalion's forearm. "Thank you, it really helps."
"I should hope so, I'm not letting you suffer if I can do something about it."
For a few moments he focused only on absorbing as much pain from his lover as he could, before he heard a commotion and looked up, only to see the twins holding the Raeken boy between them and pushing him forward.
"He tried to run," Aiden explained dispassionately, completely ignoring Theo's struggles and the furious looks sent his way.
"Let me go!" Theo hissed.
"Is this the guy we came here to rescue?" Ethan asked dubiously.
"Unfortunately, yes. Though after he blinded Scott he deserves to be punished, not saved," Deucalion said grimly, his hands itching to grab the scoundrel and snap his neck like a twig.
"He did what?!" Aiden growled, and his eyes started to glow red as he tightened his grip on the teen's wrists, causing him to hiss in pain. "How about I shove my claws into your eyes, you little fucker-"
"Guys, stop it," Scott said tiredly. "Yes, we came here to rescue Theo, but he needs saving as much from himself as from the Doctors."
The teen had been listening avidly to their conversation, and now he perked up, intrigued. "Wait, you've come here… for me?"
Scott's remaining eye lost focus for a moment, before he blinked and looked at him sternly. "For Theo that I once knew, but you're not him, so don't expect any special treatment, because you won't get any. You managed to anger a bunch of Alpha werewolves today, and it's only my word stopping them from turning you into a bleeding, whimpering mess, so I suggest you be on your best behavior from now on."
"What he said," Aiden nodded grimly, shaking Theo slightly, as if to drive the point home.
"But he doesn't deserve a second chance, not after what he did!" Deucalion growled.
"You blinded me too, once, but I forgave you, and I've never regretted that decision," Scott pointed out, and Deucalion looked away, ashamed at the mere reminder. He looked up again only when Scott took his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "I know that it's easier to just condemn someone, but Theo has the potential to become a decent person, I'm certain of it."
Deucalion looked disbelivingly at his lover. "You can't tell me that you intend to let him go unpunished-"
"I didn't say that. If Theo goes unpunished, then he won't learn anything, and I can't allow him to just continue hurting everyone around him for his own gain."
While Scott was speaking, Parrish finally approached them, covered from head to toe in blood and black ash, still holding a bloodied hammer in his hand.
"Don't worry, Commander, if he makes one wrong move I'll smash his brain into jelly." The maniac smile on his handsome face made him look more than a little unhinged, and even Deucalion felt a little uncomfortable at the sight.
Theo, on the other hand, seemed to stand his ground. "Alright, stop right there. Who the hell are you?"
Parrish's free hand shot forward and squeezed the teen's throat, causing Theo to clutch at it desperately as the boy wheezed, trying and failing to get air into his lungs.
"Jordan…" Scott said warningly, and the Hellhound let go with a sheepish smile.
"Sorry, boss, but it was my way of introducing myself. After all, the first impression is the last impression, right?"
Scott snorted. "Theo, meet Jordan Parrish, my Hellhound. Now, be a good boy and tell me where our clothes are. As much as I don't mind being naked, the sooner we conclude our business here, the sooner I can go to hospital."
The teen glowered at them all, rubbing his bruised throat, before he pointed at the container in the corner.
"Alright then. And the lion-werewolf hybrid?"
Theo's eyes bulged out. "How- How do you know about him?"
"It doesn't concern you. Now, where is he?" Scott pressed. "And where is the third Doctor?"
"I can answer both questions," Jordan interjected. "The twins and I went down the other corridor and found the tube holding the Löwenmensch. Then we encountered the Pathologist and we fought him for several minutes before we were able to take him down, that's why we couldn't get back to you sooner… I'm sorry for that, but that guy was really tough to kill."
Scott patted him on the back. "It's fine. The only thing that matters is that we've all managed to survive this. Everything else is secondary."
***
Theo observed the werewolves carefully, for the first time ever seeing so many Alphas in one place, and what's more, they didn't seem to be rivals, but actual allies. Will wonders never cease, he smirked to himself.
Then, he grimaced with distaste when he saw his childhood mate, Scott, being kissed by a man at least twice their age. Fuck, what had been going on in the outside world when he'd been holed up here with the Doctors, helping them to conduct their experiments? How in the world Scott bloody McCall had ended up being a werewolf, and a True Alpha at that? The kid that he recalled from his early memories had been weak, weepy and spineless, always sniveling about his parents' divorce. How on earth someone like him had become an Alpha werewolf?...
He didn't have the time to ponder on that for too long, though, as soon he was fighting for his breath as the crazy, blond guy started to strangle him.
Asphyxiation causes generalized hypoxia, when the body tissues are deprived of the necessary levels of oxygen, his mind supplied (un)helpfully. The first symptoms include but are not limited to: dizziness and vertigo, tingling in fingers and toes, visual impairment and pain, while the further effects can be: coma and, ultimately, death.
Bloody hell, why had he gotten a sharp brain at birth without the muscles to back it up? What's the use of knowing multiple ways by which he could be killed if he lacked the strength to defend himself?... When the guy, Parrish, finally let him go, he started to cough weakly, but his discomfort was widely ignored and he got questioned, instead.
So much for the sweet talk about second chances and believing in good in everyone - not that he cared much for that, since he'd always thought that this was what people said when they needed to lie to one another and mask their true intentions. Which didn't change the fact that it would be useful if these werewolves actually believed in this drivel, since he could always use their naivety against them… Too bad that they seemed as cynical and uncaring as the rest of the world, though.
Oh well, he'll need to figure out other ways to manipulate them, then. That's what he was the best at, right? He just needed more time to observe them and find out what made them tick.
The oldest werewolf seemed to be attracted to young boys, so it could be fun seducing him and driving a wedge between him and Scott. He hoped that he could do this without actually having sex with the guy, since fucking old men was quite off putting for him, but he was willing to do whatever needed to be done to achieve his goals, so he wasn't going to let anything stand in his way - even his own sexual preference.
Besides, he got excited just by thinking about the amount of power he could gain over the guy if he actually managed to seduce him, so getting aroused in bed was not going to be a problem if only he got there with the right mindset and focused on his true goal… And that was becoming an Alpha werewolf, by any means necessary.
Chapter 193
Notes:
Apologies for the long wait, but this chapter wasn't the easiest to write... 😞
Chapter Text
Scott looked at the Löwenmensch with pity mixed with disgust. To be put in a tube and be drained of life's force for decades on end just to ensure someone else's longevity… It wasn't a fate he would wish on anyone, even a killer without a conscience like Garrett Douglas. This wasn't a life, but a pitiful existence that made the man no better than a specimen preserved in formalin.
Would ending his life be considered a mercy killing, he wondered, before he decided that it didn't really matter. This man, if he was ever freed from his glass prison, would be a threat to others and as such needed to be eliminated. It was an ugly, brutal truth, but a truth nonetheless, and nothing could be done about that.
Scott took a startled breath once he realized just how easily he was thinking about murdering someone who was entirely defenseless at the moment. Once he'd prided himself on his ethics, but now… Where did it go? Where did killing become the first solution he thought of?
On the flip side, he didn't have time to even think about rehabilitating Douglas, much less attempt it, not to mention the risk that would pose to the pack. And if compromising his morals was going to be the price for ensuring the safety of the people he loved, he was more than willing to pay it.
"What are we going to do with him?" Ethan asked curiously, his eyes full of trust that Scott always knew what's best. And as much as he was flattered by it, he wasn't sure that he deserved it anymore, considering what was currently on his mind.
"Kill him, but it seems such a waste…"
"Of life?"
"Of his Alpha power. I wonder-" he hesitated. "I'll ask Derek if he'd like to be the one to do it."
He fished his phone out of his pocket and called.
"Tell me that everyone's alright," were Derek's first, frantic words once he picked up.
Scott smiled faintly at the worry in the Beta's voice, glad that the man was no longer a lone wolf preferring to keep to himself, but that he truly integrated with the rest of the pack.
"A little worse for the wear, but nothing life-threatening, and the Doctors have been taken care of. So don't worry, we'll be fine," he assured him. "Listen, I was thinking about what you said about having to babysit the kids, and I'm sorry. I really should've taken you with me, you don't deserve to be left behind only because you're a Beta now-"
"Actually, it was you who were right," Derek interrupted him. "You know that I go to my old house sometimes? I went there today and I spotted some hunters sniffing around, and what's even worse… Kate was with them."
"Fuck," he cursed before he could stop himself. "Did they see you?"
"I don't think so, I kept my distance and only watched them from afar."
He exhaled with relief. "That's good. But wasn't Kate ordered by her aunt to stay away from Beacon Hills if she didn't want to be cast out from the family?"
"Maybe she doesn't care for that as much as she does for revenge."
"I wouldn't be surprised," he pinched the bridge of his nose. "We need to go back home ASAP, then. But I called you because I actually have a question for you… Do you want to be an Alpha again?"
Derek was silent for a long moment, and only his uneven, quickened breathing conveyed his intense reaction. "I don't need to be an Alpha as long as I have you to have my back. But if I'm going to lose you soon… then yes, I want it."
He winced at the reminder of the clock ticking on him, but he quickly got a grip on himself. "Then I need you to kill Douglas and take his Alpha spark. I'll ask Jordan and Noshiko to guard the building until you get here, while I return to Beacon Hills with Deucalion and the twins. I'll send you the coordinates and we'll catch up once you get back."
"Alright. And thank you."
"Don't mention it, I should've thought about this sooner," he admitted, a little angry at himself for almost wasting such an opportunity. "Besides, if the hunters are becoming an issue again, we'll need all the advantages that we can get."
What was Kate and her cronies doing in Beacon Hills anyway? Was this a part of some elaborate plot? He had no idea, and this time his past experiences weren't going to be of any help. His knowledge could only get them so far, and after everything that he'd changed already, they were on an uncharted territory now.
***
As Theo listened to the werewolves' conversation, he had to hide his disappointment. He wouldn't mind stealing the Löwenmensch's powers for himself, but it seemed that Scott bloody McCall liked to act like a Santa and treat his packmate with an Alpha spark as if it was damn candy. Was this how he'd attracted so many Alphas to himself? Had he helped them to gain their power so that they were indebted to him as a result?
He shook himself from his thoughts as McCall turned to him, his eyes calculating, as if he was judging Theo's worth, which was ridiculous, since they'd barely known each other, and that had been ages ago. But since McCall remembered him from the time they'd been kids, maybe Theo could use this for his advantage… But he needed to tread very carefully, since the recent events weren't exactly in his favor.
"What's going to happen to me?" He asked, making sure that his posture screamed 'vulnerable' and 'apologetic'. Unfortunately, McCall didn't seem to be convinced and snorted loudly.
"Cut the act, it's not going to work on anyone here, myself included. I know that you're very close to being a psychopath in the sense that you're able to tell right from wrong but you simply don't care, and you always do what's best for you, ignoring everyone else."
"Sometimes you have to act a little egoistic if you want to survive. Is that really so bad?" He kept his voice calm and steady, trying to convey his earnestness. Which wasn't even that much of an act, since self-interest was the most common and powerful motivator as far as he was concerned. "Everyone does what's best for them, right?"
"As long as you don't harm anyone in the process, but you've already crossed that line, haven't you? And I don't only mean today. After what happened to your sister, there's not a line that you wouldn't cross."
"You don't know what you're talking about," he said lowly, trying to keep his temper in check. "You have no idea what it's like to be me, so stop this pathetic attempt at psychoanalyzing me and just say what are you going to do with me."
McCall gave him a long, shrewd look. "I'm going to show you what being a werewolf truly means."
He frowned. "Was that supposed to be a threat? If that's so, it was rather unimpressive."
"Not a threat, a lesson," McCall corrected him, and Theo almost scoffed at him for being a pretentious, arrogant ass. "Becoming a hybrid made you less than a human, but also less than a werewolf or a werecoyote. You have some of our traits but you don't have our instincts, or the bonds that make a werewolf a part of a pack."
"I don't need a pack," he sneered.
"Then you're never going to be a real werewolf, just a copycat, and not a very good one at that."
Theo gritted his teeth. How had McCall learned about his sensitive points: his sister's death and his desire to become a real werewolf? Not to mention, how had he known about the Dread Doctors? Everyone who'd learned about their existence had either been silenced, imprisoned or eliminated… But apparently, the Doctors hadn't been as thorough as they'd thought, or they wouldn't be dead now.
"Alright, show me your pack, then," he conceded, hoping to buy himself more time to observe the Alpha and figure out where he got his information from.
***
Scott suppressed a groan as he got out of the car, his entire head throbbing with pain. During the ride, Deucalion, Ethan and Aiden had taken turns in absorbing his pain, but he hated using them like that, and he asked them to stop once they reached Beacon Hills.
Melissa and Dr Geyer were already waiting for them, as the twins had called both of them on the way here to let them know about the emergency. Seeing the gaping hole where Scott's eye had used to be, Melissa blanched and gasped out loud, while David clenched his fists for a second, before his training kicked in.
"We're going to do an x-ray first, and we have one of the rooms ready for the procedure. Do painkillers or nerve blockers work on you?"
"They do, but only for a very short time, as my body metabolizes them at a rapid pace. So if there are any bone fragments to be removed from the wound, you'll need to work real fast," Scott warned him.
"Got it. Now, let's get you inside."
Scott nodded slightly, then turned to the twins. "Go home, boys, and take Theo with you. As soon as we're done here, we'll join you."
"We're going to watch him like hawks so that he doesn't cause any trouble," Aiden assured him, Ethan nodding eagerly, and they returned back to the car.
When his mom squeezed his hand, he could feel her palms shaking, so in response he rubbed her back gently. He knew that seeing him in such a state wasn't the easiest for her, and he would've spared her the sight if it wasn't for the fact that they couldn't involve any other nurse - seeing him without an eye and then miraculously healed would surely raise some uncomfortable questions which he'd rather avoid.
"It's going to be fine, mom," he assured her. "As soon as Dr Geyer finishes cleaning the wound, it's going to start to heal."
"Why is it always your eyes?" She lamented, and he smiled grimly.
"Better that than losing a limb… I once saw Peter reattaching a cut off finger, but I'd rather not test if it works on bigger body parts too."
Her face turned even whiter than before, and Deucalion chuckled. "If your aim was to reassure her, you need to work on your methods, love."
"Sorry, mom," he mumbled apologetically. "But really, I'm going to be alright, I promise."
***
Half an hour later, he left the hospital exhausted from healing himself, but at least his eyes were once again intact. Dr Geyer returned inside as he had still a couple of hours left before the end of his shift, so Scott was only accompanied by his mom and Deucalion to the parking lot when he felt a change in the air around them, and he stiffened in trepidation.
His lover immediately sensed that something was amiss and asked him what was wrong.
"Don't you feel it? Look at the clouds."
"It looks like a nasty storm is brewing, but that's all-"
"The Wild Hunt, they ride the storm," Scott reminded him urgently, the fine hair on the back of his neck raising as he could almost sense the electricity in the air. "They're coming for me."
His mom gasped. "What? No, it's too soon!"
"There's still a couple of days to the summer solstice," Deucalion added.
"I don't know what's changed but it has, and I can feel that- that my time is almost over," he choked out, his heart pounding as a distant thunder resounded through the air. "Mom, thank you for being here for me, always, you're the best mom I could've wished for. Please tell everyone that I love them, and that if I had any choice, I'd never leave them, ever."
"Scott, no… I can’t lose you, you can't-" Melissa cried, and he hugged her fiercely, since he couldn't do anything else.
"I love you too, but I need a moment with Deucalion. Can you give us a second?"
She looked stricken, almost overwhelmed by pain and grief, but still she nodded with acceptance and walked towards her car to give them some privacy.
***
Deucalion had thought that he was ready for this moment, that he'd prepared himself and steeled his heart in anticipation of this day, but it turned out that he'd only been lying to himself.
He wasn't ready. He was never going to be ready, not for this.
"Deucalion, please, look at me," he heard his lover's pleading voice, and he looked up, feeling as if he was going to shatter into a million tiny pieces any moment now. "Do you love me? Will you do everything for me?"
"Of course, everything, I swear…"
When Scott cupped his face, his palms were slightly cold, unusually for a werewolf, as if death was already sipping into his body. "Promise me that you won't waste the rest of your life missing me."
"I don't want to live without you-"
"I know that you don't want to, but I'm asking you to live anyway," Scott's eyes were relentless as he said this. "Think of our time together as something beautiful, not about this sad, bitter end. Please, love, I want to see you happy, or at least getting on with your life without me. The boys will need you, so please be there for them, and I know that they'll be there for you too."
He wanted to rage, to shout, but he only let out a quiet, pitiful sound through his suddenly clenched throat, and then Scott was kissing him, their tears mixing as they clung to each other desperately, trying to etch this moment in their memory forever.
Then, the hooves pounded on the asphalt, and he only had a second longer to look into his lover's eyes before they were roughly separated, a whip wound tightly around Scott's ankle as the young Alpha tumbled to the ground in a heap. Deucalion jumped forward, trying to release him, but Scott's words stopped him in his tracks.
"Don't! Don't fight them, you know what'll happen if I resist..."
He hesitated, but that was enough for the riders to grab Scott, throw him across the back of one of their ghostly horses, and then they were off, riding straight into a storm cloud, where Deucalion couldn't follow.
A few minutes later he felt their bond breaking violently, an echo of Scott's terror, fear and pain being the last thing he sensed through their link before it snapped, leaving a gaping hole in its stead.
Chapter 194
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Melissa sat in the car with her palms clenched on the steering wheel so hard that she was sure they were going to leave dents, but it was either that or falling apart.
To watch her son be taken away from her was awful enough; knowing that she couldn't do anything to prevent it and protect him was even worse. After all, parents have one job and one job only, and it's to keep their children alive and safe from harm, and she'd failed at it. But the worst… the worst was the realization that her baby boy was dying completely alone, without her and all other people who loved him by his side. How was that fair? How fair was any of this?...
She screamed hoarsely until she couldn't scream anymore, then she sagged into her seat and sobbed.
***
Peter had just kissed Chris goodbye and was grabbing his car keys when he felt his bond with Scott breaking.
It wasn't like a twig snapping in half under a heavy boot. No, it was closer to having his bones mangled by a combine, leaving behind a mess of shattered bones and bleeding veins. He gasped loudly and fell to his knees, black spots covering his vision.
"Peter, what's wrong?"
He wheezed for a second, before he managed to choke out: "It's Scott… He's dead."
"No," Chris whispered with disbelief. "It's not the time yet."
"I felt our bond breaking. Don't you get it? He's gone!" He stood abruptly and he staggered for a second before he managed to regain his balance. "Go check on the kids, I'll be fine."
"I can't leave you like this-"
"They're teenagers, they'll need all the support they can get. I'm an adult, I'll be fine," seeing that Chris looked torn, he whispered desperately: "Please, just go."
His lover hesitated for a moment, before he squeezed Peter's arm and nodded. "I'll be back as soon as I make sure everyone is okay. Or at least, as close to being okay as possible."
The moment the door closed behind Chris, Peter slid to the floor again, feeling completely boneless, as if his own knees couldn't bear to hold his weight anymore. He stayed like that for the longest time, and although his eyes prickled with unshed tears, his cheeks remained dry.
He wished they didn't.
***
When Chris was closing the door behind him, for a second he envied Peter the severe pain that the man had just experienced, while he'd only sensed a very light squeeze around the heart, a distant echo of the severed bond that he could probably only sense because he was touching Peter at the time.
He wished that he could feel that pain with all the intensity that was barely possible for a human to endure, because maybe then it would feel less unbelievable, less surreal, that he'd just lost his friend and leader so unexpectedly and without any closure.
A part of him reminded him that it wasn't exactly unexpected, and yet… It felt like it, and the sudden sense of utter loss had taken him off guard, when his heart was completely bare and not in the least prepared for the hit.
Then, he heard muffled crying coming from downstairs, and he reminded himself that he wasn't the only one hurt, and that his own despair could wait. The kids needed him now, even if he had no real words of comfort for them.
***
One second, Jackson was cutting veggies in the kitchen, and one exhale later, he was bent over a cut palm, feeling the whole world crashing down on him.
No no please no, Scott, oh God, Scott-
He watched numbly, his eyes barely focused as the cut on his hand healed. What had happened, why couldn't he feel his Alpha anymore? He didn't realize that he was crying and shaking, until Chris found him, a knife still clutched in his trembling hand.
"I know that you're hurting, but please put it down."
The metal clanked against the kitchen top as Jackson uncurled his fingers, then looked at the man with sudden urgency. "We need to find Scott, he's hurt. Let's call the police, 911…"
"Jackson-"
"Let's ask Stiles to call his dad, the Sheriff will-"
"Jackson, stop," Chris grabbed his arms in a firm hold that was bordering on painful, but he didn't care. "Peter felt the bond breaking too, and you know what it means. It's too late, he's already gone."
"No, I didn’t even…" his voice broke. "I didn't even get the chance to say goodbye…"
He'd thought that he would have more time with Scott, time to say all the things that guys usually don't say out loud, words of love, admiration, trust - everything that the world out there would call unmanly, as if masculinity was defined by how well one was able to hide all tender feelings.
Right now, he would've given everything for just one more talk with Scott. He would've said every sappy, cheesy line ever uttered, and he wouldn't have given a damn if that made him weak, or a pansy, as his dad - biological dad - had often called him.
So when Chris whispered: "I know, son," something in Jackson just gave in and he threw his hands around the man, hoping for at least one father figure in his life not to leave him.
***
Liam could hear Jackson crying upstairs, and he was glad that Chris was there for him, but at the moment he simply couldn't bring himself to care.
He'd just lost his Alpha, and it was the only thing he could think of.
Curled on his bed and hugging a pillow to his chest, he remembered the first time they'd met, and the sudden sense of rightness, of belonging he'd felt back in that moment. That's why he'd wanted to impress Scott so badly, and that's why it had hurt so much when he'd failed. He'd lashed out, then, but Scott had never held it against him. The way the Alpha had trusted him, believed in him, it had changed his life, and it was the best thing that had ever happened to him.
So even though the severed packbond hurt so much that he could barely breathe, even though it felt worse than everything he'd ever experienced, he held on to this pain, as it was a reminder of the love that had been there just a moment ago.
If only he could feel it again, just for the last time…
Notes:
I cried writing this chapter. There, I admitted it, I am oficially a wimp, crying because of my own story... 😭
Chapter Text
When Derek arrived at the Dread Doctors' hideout and went inside, he couldn't suppress a foreboding feeling that something was just about to go downhill. He didn't know what could go wrong, though, since the Doctors had already been taken care of and the Löwenmensch was basically defenseless. Still, he felt sheer relief at seeing Parrish waiting for him inside; they might not be best friends, but they were packmates and he had full trust that the Hellhound would have his back if needed.
Meanwhile, everything seemed to be going smoothly and according to the plan: first, he shattered the tube in which Douglas was kept captive, then buried his fists in the nazi's chest and ripped his heart with his claws, and finally clenched his fist on the man's spine, severing his spinal cord for good measure. However, the moment the Alpha spark entered his body and ignited his veins - a solid proof that the Löwenmensch was truly dead - the foreboding feeling returned with vengeance, overshadowing the elation he felt from becoming an Alpha again.
"Something's wrong. And I mean, seriously, horribly wrong," he muttered, his body stiff from anxiety. "Can you feel it too?"
Parrish frowned. "I'm not certain… But the moment you killed Douglas I felt some kind of a shift, for lack of better word."
"Do you think it's just from the transfer of the Alpha power?"
The Hellhound shook his head. "No, that's not it, it's something that is coming from the outside rather than from here. We need to dispose of the body and then get back to Beacon Hills as soon as possible."
Derek nodded with agreement and together they grabbed the corpse and dragged it outside. They were in the middle of burying it in the ground when he felt a sharp, sudden pain in his chest that left him gasping. In an involuntary reaction he gripped the spade so hard that the wooden handle broke in two in his hands.
"Derek, what is it? Derek!"
"My packbond with Scott, it's broken," he choked out. He didn't understand what was happening. His change into an Alpha could've weakened their link to an extent, just like it had happened previously when he'd absorbed Peter’s power, but it was completely severed now. This wasn't supposed to happen. It was as if Scott was-
Suddenly, Parrish dropped to all fours and started to morph into a pitch black, demon-like canine, its eyes glowing eerily and muzzle breathing fire. Before Derek could react, the Hellhound turned around and ran towards Beacon Hills, quickly disappearing from view, and in the places where its paws touched the ground, grass sizzled and turned into ash.
Derek exhaled shakily. He hadn't gotten the chance to tell Parrish that while his bond with Scott was completely shattered, somehow he could still sense the Alpha being alive. The feeling was so fleeting, barely there, but it gave him hope that whatever was happening, not everything was lost yet.
***
He didn’t know how many driving rules he broke during his ride home, but he didn’t care, the only thing that mattered was his Alpha who might need his help at this very moment. Noshiko followed him in her own car, and even though with his enhanced senses he could hear her muttering expletives under her breath, she managed to keep the pace and drove right behind him.
Keeping an eye on the road, he called his uncle, but Peter didn’t pick up, so he disconnected and a few minutes later he tried again.
“Damn it, Derek, can’t you give me the chance to grieve without any disturbance?”
He blinked, surprised. “What are you talking about? The bond’s broken, but Scott’s alive, I can feel it. Can’t you?” For a few seconds the only reply he got was shocked silence, but it was enough to tell him that Peter couldn’t sense Scott anymore. “Do you know what happened?”
“Deucalion and Melissa were with Scott when he was taken by the Ghost Riders, then everyone’s bonds with Scott shattered. So how is it possible that you’re still sensing him, when no one else is? Are you sure it’s not just, I don’t know, a phantom pain?” Peter asked skeptically.
Derek hesitated for a second. “The feeling is very faint, but it’s there. I can’t get any sense of direction, though, but Noshiko agreed to try to locate Scott. If anyone can find him, it’s her.”
“Alright, let’s give it a try. We’re waiting for the both of you, so don’t dilly dally and just get back here.”
He gritted his teeth, swallowed his irritation, then hit the gas even harder than before.
***
When they reached the house, Derek ran to his room to get the t-shirt that Scott had given him so that he could inhale the Alpha’s scent anytime he missed his presence. Then, he ran downstairs, where everyone had already started to gather around Noshiko.
“Here, try this,” he pushed the t-shirt into her hands.
The kitsune looked skeptical. “This can’t be just a random piece of clothing, it needs to be something that has Scott’s memories associated with it and has a special meaning for him.”
“It has, trust me,” he said with confidence, while suppressing his doubts. Was their scenting ritual as important to Scott as it was to him? It made him feel connected to his Alpha like nothing else did, beside their - now broken - bond, and he could only hope that it was equally special to Scott.
Noshiko took the t-shirt and nodded, then closed her eyes. Everyone fell silent, watching her with thinly veiled hope.
“No, there’s nothing there, I can’t feel him– Wait, I'm sensing something,” the kids started to mutter excitedly, so she opened her eyes and gave them a stern look. “Don’t get too excited, it’s very faint, and feels almost like an imprint rather than an actual connection… It’s different from everything I’ve ever felt before, so don’t get your hopes up just yet.”
“But something is not nothing, right?” Isaac pointed out, and Noshiko nodded reluctantly.
“Can you follow this feeling, whatever it is?” Deucalion asked urgently, his hands curled into fists.
“I'll try. Just be quiet, everyone. I don’t want any distractions."
***
Noshiko led them into the forest, Scott’s t-shirt clutched tightly in her hands. The entire pack followed her at a small distance, as the kids had refused to be left at home to anxiously wait for the news.
Even before they reached their destination, Deucalion started sniffing the air and then ran ahead, leaving everyone behind him. When they caught up to him, he was kneeling beside the Nemeton, and Derek took a startled breath once he realized that the tree's roots were covered in blood - Scott’s blood.
"He must be hurt, we need to hurry… Where does the trail lead?" Deucalion looked expectantly at Noshiko, his face ashen with worry.
The woman looked faintly apologetic as she said: "The feeling that I got, it led me here. Maybe this is the place where he died, and I just got a glimpse of his last moments… I'm sorry, but this is it, the search is over."
Deucalion howled with anguish and bent over the bloodied roots, caressing them with his fingertips, even if it was a poor substitute for touching the person that the blood belonged to… It was a heart-breaking sight, and Derek had to look away, not able to deal with the man's pain on top of his own.
He looked around, and saw that the kids huddled together, crying and comforting each other at the same time. He did a double take when he realized that the twins had brought Theo with them, which in hindsight made sense, since everyone had followed Noshiko and no one wanted to be left behind just to keep an eye on the hybrid.
"Wait, where's Lydia?" He asked suddenly. "If Scott truly died, shouldn't she have seen it in a vision?"
Jackson perked up at once and offered to call her. For a couple of excruciatingly long seconds no one was picking up, and when someone eventually did, it was a male voice who responded.
"Hi Mr Martin, it's Jackson. I'm sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if I could talk to Lydia?" the boy suddenly blanched as the man replied. "I'm sorry to hear that. Would you mind letting me know what the doctors say, maybe I could visit her? Thank you very much."
Due to being a werewolf Derek was able to overhear the conversation, so he wasn't surprised when Jordan looked up and said: "Earlier, Lydia suddenly started screaming and then lost consciousness. She wasn't waking up, so her dad took her to a hospital. They're running some tests now and he's waiting for a diagnosis."
"Which won't be of much help, if her condition has a supernatural origin…" Peter said with a grimace. "I'll contact Deaton and ask if he could take a look at her, maybe he knows more about Banshees and their reactions to visions. Meanwhile, we can assume that she's seen Scott’s death and the shock of it was simply too much for her."
Derek clenched his fists. "Why are you so quick to declare him dead? I can still sense him! Scott could still be alive, waiting for his pack to find him and save him, while you seem all too eager to take his place-"
He didn't get the chance to finish the sentence, as Peter growled, then tackled and pinned him to the ground, claws curled tightly around his throat. Derek could hear the shocked gasps coming from the rest of the pack, but he had his eyes fixed only on Peter, who leaned down towards him, his ruby red eyes glowing warningly.
"Shut up, or I'll silence you permanently. I'm sick of you suggesting that you loved Scott more than I did, or that your link with him ran deeper than mine. Whatever you think that you're sensing, you're being delusional. Our packbonds broke, Lydia started screaming the moment it happened, and even a celestial kitsune can’t find him anymore. What more proof do you need? Scott’s dead!"
"Let him go, love," Chris murmured, putting a hand on Peter’s shoulder. "We all process loss at a different pace, so don't hold Derek's hope against him."
He could feel his uncle's palm trembling around his throat, but Peter's chemosignals were so messed up at the moment that he couldn't tell if it was from anger, pain, grief, or the effort put into not killing him right here and now. Finally, the grip on his neck relaxed, then disappeared altogether as Peter stood up and strided back towards their house without uttering a single word, the rest of the pack following him at a more sedate pace.
Derek sat up and hid face in his hands, listening to the retreating footsteps, when he sensed that someone squatted beside him.
"If you’re saying that Scott is alive, then I believe you," Stiles said.
He looked up tiredly. "Why? Peter’s right, you know. Everything is pointing to the fact that Scott is dead. Maybe I really am in denial, imagining something that isn't there…"
"You're not new to grief, you once lost almost an entire pack, did you have this feeling back then?" When Derek shook his head, Stiles commented: "Then you're not delusional."
"Or you're simply biased since we're seeing each other."
Stiles scoffed. "You're not talking to your hot young boyfriend at the moment, but the future FBI agent. I'll believe in Scott's death once I see his corpse with my own eyes, but until then, I'll consider him missing. So stop feeling sorry for yourself and help me look for clues that may help us find him."
Derek exhaled slowly, then stood up. Somehow, Stiles' no-nonsense attitude worked better than a pep talk or a pat on the back, and he straightened his back with resolve. Maybe it was futile and he was clutching to a hope where there was none, but at least he wanted to be able to say that he did everything in his power to find Scott, rather than live with regret that he accepted defeat too early.
After all, he had much too many regrets in his life already, he didn't need to add any more to the list.
Chapter Text
Liam followed Peter and the pack reluctantly, but he dragged his feet and he couldn't help looking over his shoulder every now and then. The twins must have seen this, as at some point Ethan fell into step with him.
"How are you feeling?" The Alpha asked. "I know that it's hard to accept that Scott is gone…"
He shook his head. "No, that's not it. I mean, that too, of course, but- Why are we leaving Mr Hale- um, Derek, behind?"
He could sense that his words made Ethan uncomfortable, but he didn't know why. He honestly couldn't understand why they were going home when Derek had been left behind, obviously hurting and grasping at straws in his desire to find Scott, even if it was an impossible wish. Liam could sympathize with it, though, as he would give everything too to have his Alpha back.
Surprisingly, it was the new, strange kid who replied.
"Isn't it obvious? This is where the division begins and people start picking sides. Honestly, it's so cliche it's pathetic; the power struggles after the leader's death are as old as humanity and apparently, werewolves aren't immune to them either."
"What? No, you're wrong, we're a pack, we take care of each other," he protested weakly.
The teen sneered. "Then why are you all following this dude and leaving the other Alpha behind?"
Before he had a chance to reply - though he wasn't sure what he could say in his defense, really - Peter turned around and approached them in quick strides, the rest of the pack observing it all in silence.
"You're Theo, aren't you? I don't appreciate you causing dissent in my pack and commenting on things you don't understand."
Liam shivered as he sensed Peter’s anger and an underlying warning hidden beneath. It seemed to have no effect on the new boy, though, who stood his ground and folded his arms on his chest.
"So you know my name, that's fantastic, but do you know why I'm even here? Your precious Scott asked me to go back to Beacon Hills so that he could show me what it means to be a part of the pack. And to be honest, after watching everyone following you like sheep I'm far from impressed." Peter growled, his canine teeth lengthening into fangs, but Theo only raised his eyebrow at the sight. "So you're a big, scary Alpha who could snap my neck like a twig without breaking a sweat… Again, not impressed. And if this is the lesson that I was supposed to learn, then it's quite dull, and I'm not going to stick around for even more of it."
Liam watched with shock - and not a little amount of reluctant admiration - as the teen turned on his heel and walked away, just like that, as if he hadn't just turned his back to an angry werewolf.
"Anyone else wants to leave?" Peter snapped, looking around challengingly.
"I'm going back to check on Derek," Liam decided suddenly, feeling strangely empowered by witnessing someone standing up to an Alpha.
"That's out of the question. My nephew has made his bed and it's to chase a dream rather than stay with his pack… I hope that you'll be wiser than him."
Liam blinked, shocked. "So what Theo said earlier is true and we need to pick a side? But Scott- Scott wouldn't like it!"
"Scott isn't here, and you better think twice about what you're going to say next, because my patience isn't limitless," Peter said coldly, and Liam stared at him for a few seconds, not believing in what he was hearing.
"Peter…" Aiden said warningly, standing by Liam's other side so that he was now flanked by both twins.
For a second, it felt as if he was with Scott again: protected and cared for, and the moment he thought this, he felt a new bond taking roots deep inside his soul and he gasped out loud. The twins clasped his shoulders as he wobbled on his feet unsteadily, but it took him only a few seconds to recover from the shock.
"Sorry Peter, but it looks like I've already found my Alpha… Two of them, actually," he grinned cheekily. "And guess what? I'm still going to see how Derek is doing, because this is what Scott would've wanted." He shot a last look at the rest of the pack, but no one else spoke up, not even Brett or Lori, who only shook her head apologetically.
Trying to cover his disappointment with a shrug, he turned around and went back towards the Nemeton. His Alphas walked right by his side, and he knew that no matter what happened next, he wasn't going to be alone… even if he was no longer a part of the pack.
***
After they came back home, the moods were even more morose and bleak than when they'd left. Peter gritted his teeth, anger bubbling right beneath the surface, waiting to be released. As he remembered that the whole building belonged to Derek, his first thought was to raze the entire place to the ground, and he had to clench his fists hard in order to stop himself from following on that idea.
He stood up abruptly and grabbed his car keys, causing Chris to look up with surprise.
"Where are you going?"
"What I was planning to do before this whole mess happened: meet with the mercenary and deal with the Desert Wolf once and for all," he said offhandedly and went to the door, not looking his lover in the eye. His control was nearly non-existing and he needed to leave, now.
"Whoa- you can't just leave," Chris started protesting. "Mellisa is crying her eyes out, the kids are shaken-"
"Watch me," he hissed through gritted teeth and walked out, slamming the door behind him, then taking three steps at a time towards the exit.
He couldn't deal with all these people's grief on top of his own. They were under the impression that they were hurting - but it was nothing compared to his pain. His heart felt as if it was made of glass which someone had shattered into a million tiny pieces with jagged, sharp edges that grinded his insides into a bleeding mess.
After all, he hadn't just lost an Alpha, a friend, or a leader - he'd lost his anchor, the single thing that had kept him sane, and he could feel himself spiraling down a path that he knew all too well, the path that had once led him to killing his own niece.
He hated that side of him, and yet it was a side that he was intimately familiar with: power-hungry, even bestial, reacting with violence at even the smallest of perceived slights. A part of him wanted to just give in, let his inner beast take the reins and feast on the bones of those who dared to defy him… But there was another part of him that remembered the faith Scott had had in him, and he knew that he couldn't allow himself to hurt his packmates ever again.
That's why if he needed to run away in order to prevent it from happening, then run away he would - even if the people he loved would hate him for it.
***
Chris stared at the door in shock. Nothing could've prepared him for witnessing Peter’s transition from charming, kind-hearted man that he'd fallen in love with into this cold, uncaring, violent stranger whom he could no longer recognize. Was this who Peter was all along, but he'd been just too besotted with the werewolf to see it?...
"He's gone, isn't he?"
His head snapped up and he saw Melissa standing by the door leading to their bedroom.
"I think so. I'm sorry," he added, feeling utterly useless.
She shook her head tiredly. "I'm used to men scurrying away when things get tough… Are you going to leave, too?"
"Never," he said with conviction.
He felt rather useless lately, especially since he couldn't have done anything to prevent them from losing Scott, but one thing he was sure of: he wasn't a quitter. He'd rather stay and face together all of their pain and grief, rather than abandon Melissa when she needed him the most.
Seeing how defeated she still looked despite his words, he stood up and took her into his arms, and she melted into his embrace as if this was where she was meant to be, now and always.
He kissed her tentatively, certain that she would pull away saying that it wasn't a good moment, but she surprised him by kissing him back with a fiery passion that took his breath away. Her hands slid down his chest to the waistband of his pants, then her nimble fingers undid the button and tugged at the zipper.
"Wait, are you sure?" he asked breathlessly, and she grimaced.
"I want to forget just how much everything hurts, if just for a few minutes… Can you give me that?"
He nodded, and then they were stumbling blindly towards the bed, lip-locked and undressing each other in frenzy. When she threw her bra to the floor, he grazed her nipples with his fingertips, and she let out a breathy gasp, her eyes dark from desire. He lowered her onto the bed, and when she parted her legs eagerly, he took the invitation.
For precious few moments nothing else existed beside her warmth, the feeling of being inside her, in and out, chasing a mind-numbing pleasure with jerky moves and muffled moans, as they both indulged in the most basic, primal instinct there was. But all too soon it was over, and when he came to his senses, he suddenly became aware of Melissa's quiet sobs and his own ragged breathing.
"My baby boy is gone," she whispered in such a pained voice, as if it was killing her from the inside - and the worst part was that there was nothing he could do to make it better. Not finding any words to comfort her, he held her in his arms, caressing her hair and kissing away tears until they stopped flowing down her cheeks out of sheer exhaustion.
Eventually, she fell asleep in his arms, and he was grateful that she'd been given a reprieve from grief, even if for a little while.
Chapter Text
What most people would expect to find on the vast expanse of the Sonoran Desert was probably cactuses (or cacti, if one was adamant on using proper Latin, which Peter was not), scorpions and tarantulas, some occasional bushes, and the ever present dust getting into their eyes, mouth, under the clothes and into their shoes. What not many people would think of, though, was looking for a mercenary's den there, far away from any human settlement or even a single dust road.
Not one to be deterred from his mission, he left his car in the parking lot near a half-abandoned gas station which looked like it had seen better days way before he was born, and went on foot to where Braeden's intel was pointing to as Corinne's hideout. When the station was no longer in sight, he abandoned all pretenses and transformed into his wolf form, then ran ahead.
There was something utterly freeing and primal in traveling under open skies while the sun was setting down over the horizon. Far away from crowds and city lights, this was the first place Peter could finally feel free from everything: the pack's expectations, his own ambitions, but most importantly, free from this fickle notion of being tamed and civilized while he was everything but.
This war that he was fighting with himself, he didn't know what he was fighting for anymore. Maybe all that he needed was running in the wilderness under the silver moon that was shining like a beacon above this desert land. After all, the shadows that he'd found here couldn't hold a candle to the shade his own mind was casting.
He didn't even know which part of him, wolf or man, was the more savage. Was it the animal that wanted to rip everyone apart because that was his true nature, or was it an entirely human reaction to pain and loss that made him want to make the world hurt as much as he was hurting?...
When he finally found Corinne, he didn't even care if she was guilty and if she truly deserved to die. He approached her from the downwind side to ensure that she didn't catch his scent prematurely, and when she eventually did, he was already descending down on her, catching her off guard.
He first went for her ankles, then for her throat as she tumbled into the ground in a graceless heap. Her blood tasted divine in his mouth as he tightened his jaws until her heartbeat stilled.
If he was still human, he'd feel smug that he'd managed to catch her unaware; maybe if she'd ever considered getting killed she'd envisioned armed trucks surrounding her hideout and spitting a small army of soldiers armed to the teeth. What she probably hadn't considered was falling prey to a lone wolf that needed an outlet to the pain that threatened to suffocate him.
He sat there for hours, munching on meat and gnawing on bones in a meditative-like state, until the thought of becoming a human again completely vanished from his mind. Then, he rose from the ground and without sparing even a single glance to the mangled corpse at his paws, he trotted even deeper into the desert, leaving the carnage in the mercenary's den behind him - alongside with his former life.
***
two weeks later
Stiles looked at the photos, notes and books scattered around Derek's loft and grimaced.
"I don't know about you, but I have this nagging feeling that we're missing something… Ugh, I hate it!"
"No shit," Derek grumbled, his mood even more sour than usual, which was saying a lot about how bad it was. He took a photo from the table and pointed at the picture. "Take these burned patches of grass around the Nemeton, they look almost like paws, but whatever creature made them must have been burning like a torch… It makes no sense, and I don't see how it's connected to Scott's disappearance."
Between the two of them, they were avoiding using words like 'death' or 'dead' in relation to Scott. It felt too early for that, not when they still hoped that their friend was still alive, somewhere. Somehow.
So far, they'd found nothing, though. No trace of Scott's body - dead or alive - being dragged out of the woods, no sign of it being hidden, transported anywhere, or even buried in the ground. There was nothing, nil, as if Scott had disappeared in thin air, and considering the Ghost Riders' transportation methods, it wasn't entirely out of the question.
"I wish there was something that we could show to the pack that would make them believe that Scott's still alive… But the only thing we got is a lot of loose ends and no idea how to tie them together," Stiles rubbed his eyes tiredly, while Derek tilted his head to the side.
"I don't know why do you believe me..."
Stiles pretended to consider the question for longer than was actually needed.
"Hm, besides the fact that I'm a totally awesome, supportive boyfriend?" He put his arms around Derek. "Because you're you, the most gloomy and depressive person in the entire pack. If you say there's hope - well, then there's hope, and I'm not giving up until you do." He saw the way Derek's eyes started to gleam with what suspiciously resembled tears, and he nudged the Alpha none too gently in the side. "No, no, no, don't go to pieces now, I need you to stay focused, okay? You can go teary eyed on me once we go to bed, and then we can have a hot making out session as a grief therapy. How does that sound?"
"Like you'd make a poor therapist, so it's probably better for everyone that I'm the only recipient of your skills."
He snorted. "You sound just like Peter." Even before he finished the sentence, he already knew it was a mistake. Derek scowled furiously at him, so he raised his hands in what he hoped was a conciliatory gesture. "I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't have said that, I know that he's still a sore spot for you."
And that was putting it mildly. While initially Peter had acted like he wanted to rule the entire pack uncontestedly and be their Alpha in Scott's stead, then he'd had the gall to disappear without barely any explanation. Braeden had confirmed that she'd gotten payment for her services shortly after revealing the Desert Wolf's hiding place, but since then - nothing.
At first, everyone had been worried that the Alpha was injured or killed, but Braeden had also reported that she'd found Corinne's mangled corpse, and there was no sign of blood beside hers, and barely any struggle. Only then it had hit them hard, like a brick to the face: Peter had bailed on them all.
It was difficult to tell who took the news the hardest: Chris and Melissa for being ditched by their lover, Brett and Lori for losing an Alpha, Malia for being abandoned by her father - or Derek, for losing the very last link to his past.
And now, the reminder of it all couldn't have been pleasant, or easy to swallow…
"I'm sorry, I'm a total idiot," Stiles repeated apologetically, then looked at his boyfriend hopefully. "Forgive me?"
Derek's unimpressed eye roll was so iconic that he breathed with relief when it was once again directed at him. In the last few months he'd become so used to it that he treated it - alongside Derek's expressive eyebrows - as some kind of a weird indication of normality, no matter how far things were from normal at the moment, with both Scott and Peter gone missing.
***
Deucalion was lying in the bed, inhaling the sheets for the upteempth time, even though Scott’s scent barely lingered there anymore. He had buried himself under the sheets too many times already, breathing and reminiscing, to the point that he was only able to smell himself on the fabric.
He knew that he should be taking a more active role in the pack's post-Scott life, to be more present and focused on the here and now. But each time he tried, something would remind him of Scott, making him tear-eyed like he was not an Alpha werewolf but a pregnant woman: emotional and experiencing frequent mood swings.
As he heard a knock to the door, he raised his head and inhaled deeply. Liam.
"Come in," he called.
He heard the boy entering the apartment, crossing the hallway and then approaching the bedroom where Deucalion was currently hiding from the rest of the world. Without saying anything, Liam took off his trainers and put them neatly by the door, a lesson learned from the last time when he'd discarded them carelessly only to trip over them later.
As the teen padded to the bed, Deucalion moved over a little to make room for him, then sighed with exasperation as Liam wriggled back and forth, trying to find a comfortable position. Eventually, the boy settled down, and Deucalion circled him with his arm loosely.
"How are the twins doing?"
Liam grimaced. "Attempting cooking, again. I ran away before they could ask me to taste anything."
He stifled a laugh. "It can't be that bad, surely."
The boy propped himself on his forearm and turned around to give him a look. "When they decide to get creative and experiment with the recipes? Yes, it can."
The amused smile dancing on Deucalion's lips suddenly vanished as he silently chastised himself for feeling this carefree when Scott was still gone. And while he knew that his lover would want him to be happy, he couldn't help feeling guilty for even the smallest pause in his grief, and smiling felt too much like a betrayal still.
***
Jackson couldn't shake the feeling that he was forgetting something, something utterly important, like he was experiencing a phantom pain of the limb he no longer had, but on a mental level. Which sounded quite ridiculous when he thought about it, but how else could he explain this feeling of forgetting something, when he couldn't even recall what that was in the first place?
And no, this wasn't just the fact that he'd lost his Alpha and hadn't been able to bond with either Derek, Deucalion or the twins yet. Being surrounded by the pack helped to an extent and while he could feel his Beta power waning and his control lapsed from time to time, the change into an Omega was gradual and couldn't possibly explain this strange memory loss.
Normally he would ask Lydia as she was the most intelligent person he knew, but she was still in coma, and the second person with an analytical mind that could potentially help him - Stiles - was solely focused on finding Scott.
For a moment, he considered talking with Chris, before he discarded the thought. With everything that the man was going through at the moment, Jackson didn't want to burden him with his own problems, especially since there wasn't anything specific that he could mention beside his gut feeling, and the way his own flat felt strange to him.
There were places in the drawers and in the cupboards which looked as if something had been there and suddenly vanished. The left side of the wardrobe was entirely empty while all of his clothes hung on the right, as if he was waiting for a roommate to move in, or someone had recently moved out. It made no sense, though, he had the entire flat to himself, and as far as he could tell, that had always been the case.
He still couldn't shake the feeling that something was seriously wrong, either with him or with the world around him, and in all honesty, he wasn't sure which would be worse.
Chapter 198
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Bright, everything was so bright… But it wasn't because of the sunlight, or even the comforting glow of a bedside lamp. This was the sharpest, coldest kind of light emitted by a bunch of fluorescent lamps attached to the ceiling of a room that looked like a bastard child of a prison and a hospital.
He groaned and tried to cover his eyes with his forearm. The movement caused a loud sound that echoed through the room, a metal clanking against metal, and he belatedly realized that there were shackles on his wrists - wait, what? What was happening, where was he? How did he end up here, whatever this place was?...
His mind was strangely hazy, as if it filled with wool instead of actual brain cells, and he stiffened the moment he realized that the last thing he remembered was-
Stiles. He remembered Stiles, and his ridiculous offer to go looking for a half of a dead girl's body, instead of staying inside while police went looking for a suspect- But that couldn't be it, could it? It had happened, what, months, maybe years ago? He couldn't even tell how long ago it had been, but he was quite sure that if this was the last thing he remembered, then something was seriously wrong here, even aside from him being chained to a damn wall.
Groaning quietly as his headache intensified even more, he squinted his eyes and tried to make sense of his surroundings. The room was almost completely bare, aside from the cot he was lying on and a hole in the ground that he had an awful suspicion was supposed to be a substitute for a toilet. The picture was completed by a heavy iron door with locks being placed - of course - on the outside.
So, he'd been put in a holding cell - but why? And more importantly, by who?...
He pulled on the chains, but only succeeded in making them rattle loudly. Soon enough, the commotion attracted his jailors' attention - two grim looking men, who didn't show even the slightest inclination to answer his questions when he asked them where he was and what was going on. The first one shocked him with a taser, causing his body to arch up painfully, and then the other smacked a needle straight into his exposed arm, emptying a syringe with a vicious yellow liquid into it.
"Wait, why are you doing this?..."
He knew that expecting them to answer was quite foolish of him, but he asked nevertheless, hoping against hope that they'll give him at least a hint as to what was happening. That hope soon turned to be futile as his body became paralyzed in less than a minute, though he could still see and hear everything happening around him.
"This one's young," one of the men muttered quietly while leaning down and opening his shackles.
Scott could smell curry on the guy's breath, mixed with a sharp scent of an aftershave coming from the man's exposed throat, and he's overcome with a sudden need to bite, of all things. He would've followed up on that urge in that very moment if it wasn't for the fact that he couldn't move an inch, much less bury his fangs in his jailor's jugular vein.
Wait, whoa- fangs? Where did these thoughts even come from?...
The other man shrugged. "They're ain't human, so I don't give a fuck how old they are. Let's move him to the lab, the doc wants to test as many of them as possible before the bill passes."
Next thing he knew, he was being carried like a sack of potatoes outside of the cell and then thrown carelessly on a gurney. He heard the screeching of the wheels and watched the ceiling moving above him as the men pushed the gurney forward. Even before they stopped, his nose was assaulted by a suffocating smell of disinfectants mixed with chemical substances that he didn't have enough knowledge to even attempt to identify.
Another person came into view, this time a woman in scrubs, roughly in her forties, with ginger hair that weirdly contrasted with the cold expression on her face. Without a word, she opened his mouth and swabbed inside of his cheek. Next, she put a rubber band on his arm and inserted a needle into his vein, then took much too many blood samples than could be reasonably needed for any kind of testing.
He didn't understand what was happening, and what was the worst, he was completely and utterly powerless to stop it from happening. Where was he? Who were these people and why were they keeping him captive?...
"Roll him to the side."
His jailors complied at once and he watched with trepidation as the doctor approached him, this time with a much bigger syringe. She moved so that he couldn't see what she was doing, but then he felt his pants being pulled down his hip, and something hard and sharp pierced his skin, muscle, right into his bone.
Even though he was paralyzed, a muffled moan came through his throat at the sudden sharp pain that racked his body. Were they doing a marrow extraction without even numbing the area? Fuck. It was bad enough that they were doing this without his consent, but this - this was simply barbaric.
"Wait, is the subject still aware?" The woman moved so that she could look into his eyes, which were currently filled with tears - and he couldn't even blink the moisture away. "The hunters said that the yellow wolfsbane would knock him out… That's what happens when we're forced to trust civilians on their word, I'll need to administer ketamine and midazolam through IV."
Hunters, what hunters? And if she was referring to them as civilians, did it mean that he was in the hands of the police or the army, or-
He didn't get to finish that thought as consciousness slowly slipped from his grasp, no matter how much he wanted to stay awake.
Notes:
I know that it's quite a short chapter, but I wanted to give you a glimpse of what's happening to Scott, even though I won't give you any answers as to how or why - yet.
The good news is that he's alive! But the rest is not so good, I'm afraid 🙄
Chapter 199
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Rafael pressed his lips tightly, not believing in what he was hearing.
"What do you mean, you can't go to Japan with me? If the rescue mission is to be successful, we need to have someone from the Yakuza on our side-"
"I know that, but I can't leave Melissa alone," Chris interrupted him firmly, "especially not after Peter bailed on us. You have your priorities, but I also have mine, and I'm not leaving her."
He stared at the man, then at Melissa, not quite understanding the issue. "I'm sorry, but what's that got to with this? Are you two involved? Damn, you certainly didn't waste any time, with Peter being gone barely a few weeks."
Judging by Chris' darkening expression, he'd clearly struck a nerve, but then Melissa took the man's hand in her palm and shook her head, then turned to him.
"It's not like that, Raf, I didn't replace Peter. Chris, Peter and I, we… We were in a romantic relationship, all three of us, until Peter walked out that door and never came back. After Scott-" her voice broke, before she cleared her throat. "Let's just say that the last few weeks have been hard on both of us, and the last thing we need is being separated from each other."
For a moment he tried to process the fact that his ex-wife had been in a threesome of all things, before he decided that it was none of his business and he scoffed. Hard weeks, huh? How about the worst time he'd gone through in his entire life, including the divorce and losing custody over Scott. At least then he'd consoled himself with the knowledge that his boy would be better off without him… Now, there was no consolation, nothing that would take the edge off his pain.
"Do you think that it's been any easier for me? I've lost my son too, but I don't use it as an excuse to neglect my responsibilities. Besides, this mission was important to Scott, so I'm going to see it through, with or without your help."
Not waiting for their reply, he turned around and stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him, when a voice stopped him.
"Agent McCall, please wait!"
He looked at the girl walking down the stairs, then tried to collect himself. Just because he was furious didn't mean that he had any right to take it out on a teenager. "Allison, correct?"
"Yeah - I mean yes, sir. I overheard your conversation, and I think that I have an idea who could help you with the Yakuza: my mother," she said hesitantly, as if afraid of his reaction.
The thought of contacting Victoria again caused him a myriad of conflicting emotions, want and hope warring with simmering anger and distrust, and he grimaced. "How can you be so sure that she'd agree? As you recall, we didn't exactly part on good terms."
"Scott saved my life, once, and she's been saying that she owes him ever since. Just… maybe don't start the conversation as if she's doing you a favor, you need to play it as if you're doing her a favor, to pay off that debt and to prove that she's on our side."
That confused him even more. "But wouldn't that make her feel offended?"
Allison gave him a wicked smile that suddenly made her resemble her mother even more than before. "Trust me, I know her better than you do - she respects strength, and she won't budge if she senses weakness. Just the fact that you're reaching out to her is enough of a sign of good will on your side, anything else will make you look like you're soft."
He shook his head in disbelief, the whole idea was crazy… but knowing Victoria, not entirely unlikely.
"Thank you for the suggestion, I'll consider it," he said noncommittally, then started to walk down the stairs, his steps a little lighter than just a minute before. The difference wasn't all that big, but it was there, and it made him think that maybe, just maybe, he could give Victoria another chance - especially if it raised the chances of his mission being successful.
***
Alec eyed the weirdly acting teen for the umpteenth time to check if he's left the cafe already and wondered if getting followed around by a particularly persistent customer was a basis enough to call the police. But then what would he say, that he had a stalker even though he had no idea why, since he hadn't talked to the guy besides taking his orders on a daily basis?
"It's him again?" His co-worker, Helen, asked quietly while wiping a glass with a clean cloth.
"Yeah, it's weird, I don't even know what he wants from me," he rubbed his forehead tiredly.
"Maybe he's, you know, interested?" Helen wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.
"Nah, that's not it, so think about something else."
He might not be an expert in identifying people's emotions by their body scent, but he would've been able to smell arousal on the guy if that's what that was about. The fact that it wasn't that both relieved and worried him; at least he didn't have to worry about getting groped or anything, but if it wasn't about sex, then what did the guy even want from him?
"Mhm, I don't know, you're a gorgeous hunk of a boy," she laughed when he blushed hotly, then avoided his mock hit with her usual grace. "Alright, alright! But if he's not hot for you, then why does he follow you like a lost puppy?"
"I don't know, but I'm going to find out," he said with a sudden determination. "Go home, I'll handle it. Maybe once we're alone he'll open up and finally tell me what's this about."
"Are you sure? What if he's a psycho and you're going to be epically murdered with an ice crusher, or suffocated with napkins?"
"Ha ha, very funny," he rolled his eyes at her ridiculous ideas, before he sobered. "But seriously, call me in an hour, and if I don't pick up, call the police."
"Sure thing, sugar. But be careful, alright?"
He nodded gratefully, then shooed her away.
***
Matt equally loved and hated LA. The city was energetic and vibrant, as if it had a life on its own, but man, was it loud! It was busy in a way that Beacon Hills never was, not even during the biggest events like a New Year celebration, and living here full time was a huge change, one he still hadn't entirely gotten used to.
That's why he'd decided that he needed a distraction, and tracking down the local werewolf packs seemed like a great idea, especially since Scott had asked him to keep his eyes open for any kind of supernatural activity - which was kind of a broad request, now that he thought of it. Following the only werewolf he was aware of thanks to Scott's info seemed like a good starting point, though.
Speaking of, he looked up as he saw Alec approaching him. The boy started to gather empty dishes from the table, when a determined gleam entered his dark brown eyes.
"Okay, what's your angle, man?"
Matt blinked, surprised. "Sorry, what?"
"I've seen you lurking around more times than I can count, you haven't been exactly subtle. So whatever this is about, out with it," Alec demanded, then continued to look at him expectantly.
Alright, what now? He didn't think that full disclosure would be a good idea, but he guessed that pretending to be totally oblivious wasn't going to work either. "I know that you're a werewolf," he finally said, then observed with interest as the teen blanched at his words. "Easy pal, I don't want to cause trouble, I'm just curious-"
"How did you know? Did I flash my eyes? Fuck, tell me that it wasn't my claws, if someone saw that…" In his panic, Alec's hands started to shake and a half-empty cup of coffee fell from the tray, splashing its contents right on Matt's lap.
"Fuck!" He cursed, then grabbed a handful of napkins to clean himself, but the damage was already done and his shorts were completely soiled. When Alec started to apologize, he scoffed. "What happened to your superior reflexes, couldn't you have caught it?"
"I was too surprised to think about it, sorry," Alec mumbled.
"But isn't that supposed to be an instinct? You know what, hold that thought, I'm going to the restroom to clean myself and then we can talk."
He stood up, dropped the soiled napkins on the boy's tray, then marched straight to the bathroom, muttering curses under his breath. He was glad that it was almost closing time and there were no other customers around; thanks to that he could drop his shorts and try to wash them without feeling too awkward about it.
Once he was done, he wondered if it was better to simply put the wet clothes on, or go back to Alec and talk with him only with his boxer briefs on while leaving the shorts to dry a bit, when he heard a commotion.
He managed to overhear Alec's voice saying that they're closed, followed by a loud crash and then a thud as if something heavy hit the floor. There was a short struggle, and then - silence.
"That one was easy, are you sure he's a Beta? Seems more like an Omega to me," a man commented, his smugness perfectly clear even though his voice was muffled by the wall separating the bathroom from the rest of the cafe.
"Who cares what he is, let's just grab him and go, you know that the feds are cranky when we're messing up their pretty schedule," a female voice replied.
"I know, but it would've been easier if they didn't require that we take a different route to the black site each bloody time, " the man grumbled.
"It is what it is… Now let's get out of here before someone takes notice."
When he heard the doors closing, Matt let out the breath that he'd been holding for the past minute or so. He waited a few moments more, before taking a careful peek through the door. The cafe was empty, no sign of either Alec or the attackers, and the only sign that anything was amiss was the knocked-over chair and the dishes from Alec's tray lying scattered on the floor.
Fuck. He needed to inform Scott about this, ASAP.
Notes:
I figured that with Scott gone and Lydia in a coma no one probably remembered to inform Matt about Scott's disappearance...
And I hope that slowly it becomes more clear what troubles have been brewing while the pack was busy with other stuff. Yup, the hunters are back and causing troubles - but this time they're not working alone 😡
Chapter Text
Regaining consciousness after being drugged wasn't the most pleasant experience, but Scott didn't have the luxury of waiting until his nausea and pounding headache went away on their own. The moment his eyelids opened, he shot to his feet with his knees slightly bent and with his back to the wall while he tried to assess his surroundings. The speed of the movement caused him to sway slightly, though, and he had to brace himself against said wall to prevent falling to the ground as black spots covered his vision.
"That was kind of impressive, but rather pointless."
His head snapped to the side the second he realized that he wasn't alone in the cell. A dark skinned woman, probably in her late thirties if he had to guess, was sitting on the floor with her legs crossed and looking as if she was in the middle of a yoga class rather than imprisoned and chained to a wall.
"Whoa, what?" He stammered.
She raised her eyebrow and scoffed mockingly. "Really, Scott, that's the best comeback you can think of?"
Wait, she knew him? He was pretty sure that he'd never met her before, although considering his memory gap the size of Mariana Trench, he couldn't exactly rely on his memories.
"Sorry, but do we know each other?"
That finally caused that infuriating smirk to drop from her face and for the first time since he was awake she seemed uncertain. "Please tell me that you're pulling my leg, but if that's the case, you couldn't have chosen a worse moment to toy with me."
"I honestly don't remember, I swear. I don't even know how much I forgot, which makes it even worse…"
She licked her lips in what seemed like a nervous gesture. "Does Duke know that you've been taken? Does your pack?"
Who?... This was all so confusing it's not even funny. Suspecting that he's missing a bigger part of his memory was one thing, but meeting someone who acted like they knew him and asking him questions which made him feel even more bewildered than before was something else altogether.
"Duke- you mean, like a prince? Where in the world would I meet royalty? And what's a pack?"
The way she blanched despite her dark complexion made him suspect that she was as thrown by his words as he was by hers.
"We're screwed, then. If you didn't rob me of my own pack we might still have a chance to get out of this alive, but if they don't even know what happened to you, and you don't remember a thing… We're screwed," she repeated with a grimace.
He didn't even get the chance to ask her for her name when they heard footsteps and the same guards that had taken him earlier approached her and tried using the same tactic. She growled warningly at the man holding the taser and suddenly her eyes started to glow with an eerie red light while her face shifted into something monstrous, fangs sprouting from her mouth.
"Fuck, this one is an Alpha… Shoot her, now!"
The second guard didn't need more encouragement, he took out a gun and shot Scott's inmate twice in the chest. For a moment the woman looked even more enraged as she hissed with a mix of pain and fury, before her eyes lost focus and she fell to the floor, her head hitting the concrete with a loud thud. As the guards grabbed her and dragged her away, she was unconscious but Scott noted with relief that he could still hear the beating of her heart.
Once he was alone, he released the breath that he was holding during the whole encounter. His hands shook, but he didn't know if it was due to the shock, fear or adrenaline. Those glowing eyes… He was pretty damn sure that it wasn't just a hallucination or a trick of light. No matter what drugs the doctor had given him earlier, the woman's transformation into - well, he didn't know what, but whatever it was, it was real.
There was a part of him that wasn't even the least surprised by the sight of fangs and claws on her, and that realization was a definite proof that at some point of time he had known about it, he'd just forgotten. She wasn't human, no matter how outlandish that thought was - and if their captors had targeted them both for the same reason, neither was he.
He glanced at his reflection in the manacles on his wrists. It wasn't the best substitute for a mirror, but as far as he could tell, he looked fairly human, no protruding facial bones, no fangs, glowing eyes, nothing. But there were small details that told him otherwise, like his enhanced senses - he was pretty sure that if he was human he wouldn't have heard someone's heartbeat unless he had an ear pressed against their chest.
So where did that leave him? He clearly was something, but he had no recollection how that had happened in the first place and what it entailed. What skills did he possess, and how could he tap into them? If he was hoping to have even the slightest chance of getting out of here, he needed to figure that out, and quickly.
***
Not wanting to stay at a crime scene for longer than was absolutely needed, Matt took quick pictures of the demolished cafe with his phone, then hurried home. On his way there he called Scott a couple of times but got no response, then he tried to reach Lydia, who during his last few weeks in Beacon Hills had become an ally and maybe even a tentative friend - with an emphasis on tentative - to no avail.
Finally, he decided to contact Stiles, even though the guy wasn't his biggest fan and treated him with a level of suspicion that would be funny, if it wasn't for the fact that Matt had actually earned it by stealing his dad's gun and threatening to shoot Scott and his mom. As it happened, Stiles was awfully protective of both of them and that stunt had effectively put Matt on the boy's black list.
However, faced with the fact that there were hunters on the loose, kidnapping unsuspecting werewolves from public places of all things, he realized that he didn't have much choice and he had to call someone, black lists and old grudges be damned.
"It's not the best time to catch up, dude."
Matt grimaced, hearing Stiles' impatient voice. "I don't want to catch up, I need to talk with Scott, but he isn't picking up my calls. Where is he, did he change his number or what?" There was a sharp intake of breath, a moment of stunned silence on Stiles' side, and he immediately knew that something was wrong. Stilinski's never silent, unless… "Fuck, don't tell me that Scott's gone too."
"Sorry, it was a crappy thing to do, not to tell you about it, but the pack's in tatters- wait, what do you mean that he's gone too?"
"The werewolf that Scott told me to keep an eye on, Alec, got kidnapped right under my nose. I managed to overhear the guys who did it, and it sounded like they're hunters, but I can't be one hundred percent sure," he added. It's not like he'd met any hunters before, so it was just an educated guess and he could be totally wrong about it.
He had a feeling that he wasn't, though.
"It's probably not related to Scott's disappearance, since he was taken by the Wild Hunt." He could hear Stiles' heavy sigh - wait, was that disappointment? "I need to warn the rest of the pack, just in case. Thanks for the heads up, mate."
Matt gritted his teeth. "I didn't call just to warn you, I need you to help me find Alec and get him back."
"We have our hands full here…"
"Stilinski, for fucks sake, listen to yourself. A kid gets kidnapped and you're not going to do anything?" He snapped angrily. "It's not like you to pass up the chance to show off your detective skills, and I'm pretty sure that if Scott were here he would be organizing a search and rescue party as we speak. What the hell happened to you all?"
"I- Sorry, it's been a rough time, but you're right, we need to at least look into it. Tell me what happened, everything that you saw, heard… How many hunters were there? Did you manage to get a good look at-"
"Stop talking, and I'll tell you."
That managed to successfully silence Stiles, giving Matt the chance to recount everything he remembered.
***
Stiles chewed on his pen as he stared at the notes he'd made of Alec's kidnapping. This didn't look good. In fact, if what Matt had overheard was true, then it seemed that the hunters - or at least some of them - had cooked up some kind of a deal with the FBI, because who else would they have meant by 'the feds'? And if the government security agencies knew about the werewolves' existence, it was only a matter of time before they were all placed under surveillance, or worse.
This was way too serious of a threat, and he had a feeling that it wasn't something that one person could solve. He needed help, and he knew exactly whom to call.
"Agent McCall, I have a lead on a missing werewolf, it may or may not be connected to Scott, but it's worth looking into, and I need your help."
"Stiles, much as I'd like to help you, I have a flight in six hours. So whatever you want, you need to make it quick."
Quick, right, not exactly his forte, but he'll try. "Okay, so did you know that the FBI works with the hunters now to kidnap werewolves and place them at some kind of a black site?"
Rafael choked. "What?! Stiles, this isn't even remotely funny-"
So the man wasn't in the know - that was both a good thing (because it meant that Rafael wasn't part of the conspiracy and wasn't guilty of abducting werewolves, even though his son was one) but also a very bad, bad thing, because it meant that he probably wouldn't be of any help.
"I'm serious, like honest to God serious. But if you don't know anything about it, then maybe you can gather some intel from someone who knows? Ideally I'd like to know where the kidnapped werewolves are taken to, but, you know, I'm not picky, any info or a clue would be appreciated at this point, because I don't even know where to start looking."
Rafael hummed thoughtfully. "If what you're saying is true, then me sniffing around what seems like a secret operation is going to raise some red flags and end up with me being questioned, rather than the other way around. But I'll see what I can do without raising much suspicion and I'll let you know if I learn anything. "
"Right. Thanks, Agent McCall." Stiles hung up and then exhaled slowly while running fingers through his hair, which were now long enough to start sticking in various directions.
For the first time in weeks he felt hope that maybe, just maybe, he'll get Scott back. Maybe these two cases were completely unrelated and he shouldn't get his hopes up unless he wanted to end up being disappointed, but he couldn't help considering various scenarios how Scott could've ended up in hunters' hands after being taken by the Wild Hunt. What if he'd managed to run away from the Ghost Riders, after all, only to be captured afterwards?...
It didn't explain why the pack bonds broke or why Noshiko couldn't locate Scott, and it felt like he was grasping at the straws, but… the tiniest glimpse of hope was better than no hope at all.
Chapter Text
"Alright guys, I have some good news and news that I can't decide if they're bad or simply awful, so I'm gonna start with it," Stiles said franky, looking at the pack gathered around him, trying not to focus too much on the fact that it wasn't truly a pack until Scott was back with them. Soon, he promised himself, before continuing debriefing. "Recently the hunters started to target werewolves all around the state, totally unprovoked and at the first glance, totally out of the blue."
Brett snorted. "How is that new? They've been doing that for ages!"
"But now they don't kill them, they capture them, and that's way different from their usual modus operandi."
"Is that… Latin?" Malia looked confused for a moment, and he instantly felt guilty for not taking into account that she'd lost a couple of years in a forest rather than in a classroom. He started to apologize, but she shrugged it off. "Nevermind, it's not important. But it's better that they're not killing them on sight, right?"
"If I'd venture a guess, I'd say that Stiles suspects that a much bigger plot is afoot," Deaton commented in his usually cryptic way.
He scoffed. "I don't have to suspect it, I know it. My source overheard them talking, and apparently they're working with the government and keeping the kidnapped werewolves captive in some kind of a black site, doing God knows what to them." He didn't mention that his source was Matt, since the guy hadn't been exactly friendly or reliable, especially at first. Unhinged? Yes. Trustworthy? Hell no.
But somehow, thanks to Scott's influence, Matt had changed his life around to the point that it was Stiles who needed to be reminded by him that werewolves from other packs deserved to be rescued, or that he should at least try, rather than turn a blind eye and pretend that nothing was happening until it's his pack that's targeted.
"Alright, it's awful, and it rubs you the wrong way because you can't stand not knowing something, but what's that got to do with us? The last time I checked, we were trying to figure out what the Ghost Riders have done to Scott," Jackson said pointedly, before he frowned. "You don't think those two cases are connected, do you? Because that's one hell of a stretch, man."
Stiles couldn't keep his fingers from drumming nervously on the table, so he grabbed a pen and a notebook to keep them occupied. "I don't know what to think, but until we know more, we can't rule out any possibility."
"And if the hunters are really planning something awful, we need to know, to better protect ourselves and other packs," Isaac said firmly, while Allison nodded with approval.
"Before you ask, I've already asked my mom about this, she hasn't heard about this, so there's a high chance that we're talking about some rogue group, not hunters as a whole. As soon as she's back from Japan, she's going to investigate it."
"Are we sure that we can trust her?" Derek grumbled, his doubt and mistrust clearly written on his furrowed brow.
"If some hunters really went rogue, Victoria would want to know about it," Chris said darkly. "She doesn't take kindly to insubordination."
Stiles suppressed a snort, but he found himself willing to believe it; that woman was a fucking control freak, and learning that her men had gone behind her back must have stung like hell.
"Wait, so that was the bad news, what about the good news?" Liam asked hopefully.
He grinned, even though he suspected that he looked like a lunatic, but who cares?
"Agent McCall doesn't know which FBI's black site is used by the hunters or why, so he sent me a whole list of the locations to guess from. And since there's six of them, it means that we gotta investigate all of them, yay!"
"He sent you a list of- What was he thinking? And just so that we're clear about this, we're not seriously considering spying on federal agents?" Melissa turned her eyes upwards in exasperation, as if asking some higher power to give her patience.
"Um, kinda? I mean, I was thinking about splitting into smaller teams and checking out those places, at least. Maybe we'll see or hear anything related to the supernatural?"
She sighed heavily, but then she nodded, though she did it with obvious reluctance. "Fine, as long as we're going there just to observe, not stupidly rushing into action."
"Of course," he assured her smoothly, and that wasn't exactly a lie, at least not entirely.
He might have promised Matt to try to help, but he wasn't going to recklessly risk his or his friends' lives for some werewolves he didn't even know. If there was even the smallest possibility that the hunters or the feds were holding Scott captive, though, no matter how that had happened in the first place, then he made no promises.
In the end they decided to split into as diverse groups as possible, mixing werewolves with humans - the former had superior senses but the latter were able to cross a mountain ash barrier if needed - and also adults with teens for a more inconspicuous look.
"I'll take Allison and Malia with me," Argent decided at once. When Isaac started to protest that he didn't want to be separated from Allison, the man rolled his eyes. "That's precisely why I don't think that you two should be in the same group, you'll be too focused on each other. Leave your feelings at home, that's the best approach."
Isaac grumbled but nodded his assent.
"Don't worry, Isaac, you can go with me, Jackson too," Melissa offered. She leveled Chris with a look. "And don't you dare tell me that I should stay at home, I'm not going to be left on the sidelines, not this time."
The man raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "I wouldn't ask you to. Alright, who's next?"
The twins shared a look. "We'll take Liam, and since we need a human in our group- Boyd, do you wanna join us?" Aiden asked, and Boyd gave him a high five.
Stiles made a note and looked up. "Great! Let's see who's left…"
"I can pair up with Brett and Lori," Deaton said quickly, and Stiles ducked his head, hiding a knowing smirk, suspecting that - with their complicated and turbulent history - the druid preferred not to be in the same group as Deucalion. He, on the other hand, didn't have such qualms, and wasn't above taking advantage of the fact that he was going to have two Alpha werewolves with him.
"Which means that I'm going with Derek and Deucalion… Sounds good to me."
***
As everyone started preparing, Stiles focused on the list of locations and started to put them on a map. Four of them were in California, one was in Nevada and one in Arizona. Maybe he was biased, thinking that his state was the center of the universe, but he was going to bet that the kidnapped werewolves were taken somewhere close.
Derek approached him and glanced at the map just as Stiles was making the last dot with his marker.
"Alright, Sourwolf, what your instincts are telling you? Do you get any weird… itching looking at those places?"
His boyfriend raised his eyebrow at him, and damn, that gesture never ceased to have an effect on him. Nevermind that before they'd started dating that raised eyebrow made him feel stupid and small. Now, though, his reaction varied from being aroused at the sight to feeling a little nostalgic… They'd come a long way since their first meeting, and he couldn't believe it was only a few months ago.
"Itching?" Derek asked, amused.
"Yeah, you know, maybe some kind of a sixth sense that would tell you if Scott's being held in any of those places?"
The werewolf frowned, then focused on the map. "I don't know. I don't feel anything, but I guess I'd pick this location," he pointed at a dot southeast of San Francisco.
"Why?"
"It looks to be in the middle of a forest, so it's remote enough, but it's also close to big cities like San Francisco or San Jose, and the area has good road connectivity," Derek reasoned. "Didn't you say that the feds asked hunters to choose a different route each time?"
Stiles felt an excitement building. "Yup! Alright smart boy, that's our destination. I'll just give everyone their assignments and then we can get going. Is Duke ready?"
"He's already pacing in the parking lot, waiting for us."
Stiles sighed. "Poor guy, he's not been the same ever since Scott disappeared… But he's holding up well, all things considered. At least he didn't go into homicidal rage, so that has to count for something, right?"
Instead of snorting or rolling his eyes, Derek looked solemn. "Deucalion is reeking of pain and sorrow, to the point that most werewolves in the pack, especially the kids, try not to spend too much time near him."
Yeah, Stiles had noticed that, but it seemed a little… harsh. The man was grieving, and he suspected that even a Demon Wolf would appreciate some support.
Sensing this, Derek shook his head. "It's not because they don't feel sorry for him, but because it's literally painful to be around him when he's in such a state. He understands that, too, that's why he didn't give the twins any grief when they started to build their own pack by forming the bond with Liam."
Oh. "So if he's coming with us, are you gonna be fine? Or is this going to be too much for you?"
Derek gave him a humorless smile. "I've had my share of life-shattering experiences, so I can handle feeling Deucalion's pain on top of my own. Just… don't be surprised if we're not exactly chatty during the ride."
Stiles nodded with understanding. Sometimes, he was glad that he'd decided to remain human. Being able to sense someone's emotions like that… he couldn't even begin to imagine how that must feel.
Chapter Text
It took them nearly seven hours to get to their destination and it was one of the most emotionally charged rides Stiles could remember having in his entire life. The only instance that had been even worse than this was after his mom's death, when his father couldn't bring himself to utter even a single word when he brought Stiles home from the hospital.
Back then, Stiles had thought it was because his dad was angry with him, or maybe didn't even love him anymore. As he'd grown older, though, he'd understood that his father had been silent not to hurt him, but because it was either that or crumble underneath all the pain, grief and guilt, and that Noah had been simply trying to get a grip on himself - for him. He just wished he'd known that when he was a kid, rather than blaming himself for everything that had happened.
Compared with that memory, the ride to the feds' black site wasn't the worst he'd ever experienced, but it was goddamn close. The inside of the car felt as if it was filled with something dark and heavy that was slowly suffocating them and wearing them down. He was a mere human who - ADHD and quick wit aside - was as unordinary as they come, so if even he could sense it, he dreaded to think what Derek was feeling at the moment.
At first, he tried to start a conversation, since silly, idle chatter was always his first reaction to distress (be it his own or someone else's), but neither Derek nor Deucalion seemed to be in a talkative mood. Then, he started to hum under his breath and tap his fingers on the steering wheel - another nervous habit of his - but the deathly glares he received in return effectively shut him up.
As they were getting closer to their destination, though, he shot a look at the rear-view mirror and watched Deucalion for a few seconds. The man was sitting in the back, looking almost painfully tense, and was staring unseeingly through the window.
"If Scott's there, we'll get him," he said evenly, causing the Alpha to turn his head and look at him, weariness and hopelessness almost oozing out of him.
"I wish I could cling to that hope, but I saw Scott being taken by the Wild Hunt with my own eyes. So unless hunters joined forces with the FBI and the Ghost Riders on top of that, I don't know how that's possible."
"Half a year ago you would laugh at anyone claiming that time travel is possible, or that you will willingly work side by side with humans and an ex-hunter, yet here we are," Stiles reminded him. "We have a trunk full of bulletproof gear, courtesy of an Argent, and we're on a mission to find your time-traveling boyfriend, so try to stay open minded for a little longer, now would you?"
Deucalion shot him a dirty look but didn't argue.
Derek cleared his throat. "Ex-Argent." Then, seeing Stiles' questioning look, he added: "Chris is officially a Hale now."
Right, he'd forgotten about that little detail. With Peter gone to gods know where, it was sometimes difficult to remember how close the two of them had been before that.
"Yeah, but it proves my point, actually."
"Which is?" Deucalion raised his eyebrow, and Stiles stifled a laugh at the thought of how similar the gesture was to Derek's.
"Think about it. If an Argent can become a Hale, then everything is possible," he said with a shrug. "And if we don't find Scott today, we'll just keep searching. He's out there, somewhere, so it's only a matter of time before we find him."
Deucalion scoffed. "Are you so foolishly naive to actually believe that?"
"Hey, mind your words," Derek grumbled, and while it was sweet of him to act so protective and offended on his behalf, Stiles didn't need a defender. He'd heard worse things about himself, like way worse, and besides, it's not like Duke was trying to be an ass on purpose.
"How about a deal?" He offered. "Once Scott is back home with us, no matter how long that's going to take, you're going to stand up and announce to the whole pack that I'm the awesomest guy you've met in your entire life. Not counting Scott, of course."
Deucalion choked on a surprised laugh at the offer. "Aweso- It's not even a proper word!"
"I know, and that's exactly the point," Stiles' grinned smugly. He wanted to see the 'I'm better educated than you, peasants' Englishman (Englishwolf?) forced to forsake grammar for once in his life.
"Fine," Deucalion said, as if he didn't care at all. He couldn't fool Stiles, though, since after their talk the mood in the car seemed just the tiniest bit less depressing than before; which meant that he'd managed to instill at least some hope in the man, after all.
***
They parked on a dirt road covered on both sides in wild vegetation, looking deserted and far enough not to attract any attention, at least that's what they hoped for. Stiles scoffed at the two Alphas who were able to observe the building at a distance, while he was forced to use binoculars… Bloody show-offs, both of them.
"Alright, a guarded entrance: check, barbed-wire fence: check, a bunch of armed to the teeth guards: check. Everything seems to point to the fact that there's something fishy going on there, but how can we tell if it's about werewolves and not something else?"
He didn't relish the thought of them being caught for sticking their noses into some highly secretive government operation that had nothing to do with the supernatural.
"We don't, that's why we need to stay hidden and observe, at least for now," Deucalion tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I'm going to do some reconnaissance around the area, see if there are any backdoors or windows that we can use to get inside if need be. I'm not keen on going into this blindly, so the more information we have, the better."
Stiles bit his tongue before he could make a very bad pun about blindness being a familiar state of being for the Alpha.
"Good luck," he said, instead. The building was massive and ugly, with almost no windows in sight, which made sense if whatever was going on inside should be hidden from snooping eyes.
Deucalion gave him a curt nod and disappeared in the forest, while Stiles and Derek returned to the car, steeling themselves for a long, boring watch.
***
It turned out that it was neither. Around thirty minutes later, when Stiles just started to fidget on his seat and wondered if he could persuade Derek into a snogging session (as a part of their cover in case anyone was watching, of course), a car approached the main entrance and after some paperwork checks, the security barrier was raised and the newcomers were allowed inside.
"Can you get a whiff if there are any werewolves in the car?" He nudged Derek in the side.
"I'll try, but it might be too far away."
Derek got out of the car and sniffed the air a couple of times, while Stiles stayed inside and kept observing the area with his binoculars - well, they belonged to Chris, to be more precise, and were military grade that he couldn't ever dream to afford on his own.
It was nice to have a well-off arms dealer on their side, supplying them without a second thought or even a single mention of paying him back. And Scott's dad too, with his confidential intel and no qualms to use it if there was even a slightest chance to get his son back…
They were all so bloody lucky, it sometimes seemed too good to be true, to be a part of it all. Stiles might still be human, but he couldn't imagine going back to how things had been before Scott was bitten. He had a purpose now, a sense of belonging, and for a guy who had once struggled to connect with anyone besides his best friend, this was saying a lot.
He shook himself out of his thoughts and focused on the matter at hand. When two armed guys dragged a limp body inside, he bit his lower lip. It looked suspiciously like kidnapping, and he couldn't help a shiver of excitement mixed with a feeling of foreboding; if Matt was right and hunters truly were in league with the government, then things might get very ugly very soon.
***
It turned out that Derek couldn't tell if the unconscious guy was a werewolf or not, and when Deucalion returned, he couldn't say anything definite either, even though he had managed to find a service entrance that wasn't so heavily guarded. They still couldn't tell if this black site was used to hold werewolves or not, though.
In the end, they decided to just stay there and watch the building from afar, trying to count how many guards there were, if they patrolled the area, and so on. They took shifts at night, with one person sleeping in the back while the other two kept watch. Nothing happened the entire night, though, and Stiles woke up in the morning with a kink in his neck, his stomach demanding food with a loud grumble.
When it turned out that their breakfast was going to be some canned food and a plain toast bread, he wondered if maybe they should take a break and travel to a nearby town or something. They were lucky that they hadn't, though, as he was still nibbling on his toast when another car drove towards the building.
When a woman got out of it to talk with the guard, Derek choked. "Fuck, that's Kate."
"Like, Kate Argent, the woman who's hell bent on wiping the werewolves in general and your family in particular, out of existence, that Kate?" He asked incredulously.
"Yeah," Derek grimaced.
"I'm guessing that we're in the right place and at the right time, then," Deucalion drawled. "The question is, what are we going to do about it?"
Stiles exhaled slowly. The man was right, they needed a plan. Three against two dozen highly trained FBI agents and werewolf hunters on top of that, that's a walk in the park, just with some… minor obstacles. Nothing to worry about.
Right?
Chapter Text
There was nothing much to do in a cell besides staring at depressingly gray walls, so Scott closed his eyes and centered himself. For a casual onlooker he might look like he was resting, meditating or even sleeping. He wasn't doing either. Instead, he was searching deeply within himself for what it was that he'd known, but forgotten.
No, not forgotten. It felt more like someone had erased the parts of his past that had influenced him the most, but whatever or whoever had done this apparently didn't know - or didn't care - that even without those memories he remained himself, whoever or whatever that was.
He knew in his guts that he wasn't just a sixteen year old kid. He didn't feel sixteen. He had this nagging feeling that he'd known war, pain and loss. Shame, too, and despair that could gnaw on one's soul like a hungry dog would gnaw on a bone until it was clear of any meat.
But it wasn't all bad, he was certain of that too. Because no matter how dreary and hopeless his situation might seem, there was a part of him that clung to hope. No, not just hope, but a certainty that there were people out there who were missing him, who were looking for him. Yes, he might have forgotten them, but it didn't make them any less real.
Stripped of everything beside his sense of self, he couldn't ever doubt that, or else he'd lose himself too.
***
When the guards came for him, he didn't put up any fight. Until he had a real chance to escape, there was no use to struggle uselessly and lose energy just to prove a point.
He was cuffed and pushed forward, so he stumbled ahead, struggling to walk due to the uncomfortably short chain connecting the manacles on his ankles. Even though he tried to keep up, at some point he tripped and would've fallen flat on his face if it wasn't for one of the guards catching his arm and hauling him back to an upright position.
"Thanks," he murmured. The guy didn't respond, but Scott could sense that he was uncomfortable about the whole thing. "Um, am I allowed to talk to you?"
"Shut up," the man grumbled, giving him a slight shove forward to drive the point home, but thankfully not hard enough to cause him to lose his balance again.
That was a definitive 'no', then.
***
The big hall he was led to was already occupied by a half dozen other prisoners, all shackled and chained, with enough distance between them to prevent physical contact. He didn't have time to observe them for long, though, as shortly after they were approached by the red-haired doctor he'd met before, followed by a blonde woman with tanned skin and a nasty smile on her otherwise attractive smile.
Even though he couldn't pinpoint what it was, there was something utterly rotten about her, and he suppressed a grimace of revulsion. She was pretty and quite fit, he'd give her that, but for some reason the mere thought of being in her presence churned his stomach.
She clasped her hands as her grin stretched wide. "You might wonder why we're holding you captive - and until yesterday, that would've been a valid question. However, thanks to the Protection of the Human Genome Act which was signed by the president the previous evening, you're now considered what the bill aptly calls a cross-breed, and neither human nor animal rights apply to you. So, in case you're too slow to understand, you don't have any rights. Fun, huh?"
Her speech was met with dead silence.
"You're lying," the dark-skinned woman who had been shot before, said with disbelief, then hissed and clutched at her wounded side.
"The presence of federal agents should be enough of a signal that I'm not, in fact, lying to you," The blonde smirked. "But that brings me to the next question; why are you still alive, and the only reason for that is that some very important people decided that this country needs to expand the knowledge about werewolves more than it needs you dead. Which suits me just fine, since that way I get to play with you a little, and what's even better, I'm going to have my fun - with the government's blessing!"
Before he could react to the fact that werewolves were real and he apparently was one of them, a teen, fourteen or fifteen at most, choked up: "Whoa, who are you? And what are you going to do with us?"
The woman came closer to the boy and leered at him. "You're quite a handsome boy, aren't you? It would be a shame to damage such a pretty face…"
The red-haired doctor cleared her throat. "That's enough, Ms Argent, we're on a tight schedule to conduct the experiment. Care to explain it to the subjects, or should I?"
The blonde sighed long-sufferingly, but nodded, then addressed them once again. "What the doctor here has in mind is that she has already examined you thoroughly, but what we need now is to check if those results would change, and how much, if one of you Betas became an Alpha. And as luck would have it, we already have an Alpha in our hands! So we're looking for volunteers who would like to do the honors and kill her to absorb her power."
Scott blinked. She couldn't possibly be suggesting that they murder one another in cold blood?...
"Now, now, don't be shy, she already has been shot with a yellow wolfsbane, so she's not that much of a threat…" She smirked, then added: "I can even hold her down if you prefer."
"Come closer and I'll show you how much of a threat I can still be," the dark-skinned woman snarled viciously, yanking hard at the chains keeping her in place.
Scott shot a glance at the armed guards watching them impassively, their faces blank and not conveying any emotions, though he could smell unease on a few of them. Not everyone, though; some of them simply seemed not to care.
He swallowed hard, wondering if his father wouldn't care either. Previously he'd considered briefly if he should reveal that Rafael was a special agent in the hopes that it would give him a better standing, maybe even they would let him go, but now he started to doubt that. If what that blonde woman had said earlier was true and by law he wasn't considered a human any longer, who his father was might not be relevant any longer. Or worse, it might get his dad into trouble, and he didn't want that to happen - even if he was angry at the man for abandoning him.
But no, that wasn't true any longer, somehow that old anger had dissipated. But how, had he reconnected with his dad after all, but simply couldn't remember?...
He shook himself from his thoughts as the woman continued her speech.
"We don't have all day, so let me give you an additional incentive: the one who absorbs the Alpha power will be the only one allowed to live. As for the rest of you - well, we now have everything we need, so there's no reason to keep you alive."
Scott shuddered as he saw the calculating looks on the other prisoners, and while he couldn't fault them for wanting to live, he didn't understand how anyone could consider killing another person just to save themselves. But what that woman was doing, threatening them and pitting them against each other, coercing them to commit murder… That was a hundred times worse.
"This is wrong," he said out loud. "How can you even suggest that we kill another person in cold blood? What's wrong with you, all of you?!"
His body was shaking, and he felt like he had a high fever, with shivers running down his spine. But he wasn't afraid, no, that wasn't it. He was-
The blonde tutted with a mild disapproval, then took a few steps closer, looking him in the eye. "It's not murder if you do it to save yourself. That's self-preservation, and no one could blame you for that."
-He was just so angry, at being held here against his will, at not remembering what had happened to him, at this impossible situation when he was being forced to choose between killing and getting killed, to the point that he couldn't contain his fury any longer - so he let it boil over.
He yanked at the chains linking his shackled wrists so hard that they broke in the middle, then with a speed so fast he didn't even know he was capable of, he grabbed the woman and held her in front of himself like a living shield, with his back to the wall.
When she hissed, he realized that his nails morphed into viciously looking claws, digging into her skin, and he curled his hand around her throat.
"Step back or I kill her!" He shouted at the guards, who now had their guns pointing straight at his head. "And don't even think about taking a shot. You do that and I'll take it as a permission to defend myself, even kill you if that's what it takes. I don't want to, but I'll do it if you force me to, so don't fucking shoot!"
He saw their indecision, the way they hesitated. If he was a human, he would probably already be dead, lying on the ground with a hole in his head. But they didn't know what he was capable of, if he was quick enough to dodge a bullet - and to be honest, he didn't know that either, but he didn't rule out the possibility. Not when he could feel his muscles tensing and fingers curling, ready to bounce at the first sign of aggression on their part.
So maybe he could dodge a bullet, after all… He didn't want to test it, though.
They stood like that for a few seconds, frozen in indecision, while other werewolves yanked on their chains, trying to break them too. Then, the power suddenly went out and all hell broke loose.
Chapter Text
The lights going down triggered a chain of events that Scott struggled to follow, it all happened so fast.
Everyone was shouting, the chains were rattling as the werewolves tried to break free, and the guards started to shoot shortly after. The woman that Scott kept holding in front of him was wrecked with the force of the gunfire that wasn't meant for a single person but for an entire army. Her body slacked in his hold, lifeless, and since it was only a matter of time before some bullets went straight through, he shoved it at the FBI agents, hoping to distract them that way and buy him the few precious seconds he needed to start moving. After all, a mobile target was much harder to hit, especially when he saw perfectly in the pitch black room, while they were shooting blindly.
He smashed head after head, never stopping for more than a blink of an eye in one place. He didn't hit with the intention to kill, only to knock them unconscious. Even though with head injuries the line between minor and fatal wounds was scarily thin, hesitating meant a certain death for him…. He was fighting for his own survival here, that's why he had no choice but to turn off his mind and conscience for the time being and simply act, letting the instincts take over.
It was really scary how good he was at this. It was as if violence was his second nature... And for all he knew, it might as well be.
He heard that the Alpha managed to free herself, too, and joined the fight. He was just taking down the last of their opponents, when the lights flickered as the emergency generator kicked in. He breathed heavily from the exertion, and even though he suspected that only a minute or two had passed since the power outage, it felt like he'd just ran a mile, and his heart beat furiously in his chest as if it too wanted to escape. Then, the door was shoved open and two werewolves ran inside, stopping in their tracks at the sight of him.
At first he thought it was because of the sight he made, panting and covered in blood from head to toe, but then one of the strangers ran towards him, muttering his name with a strange emphasis, and made a gesture as if he wanted to grab him - to hit him or hold him, it was hard to tell. Scott shoved him away, not even realizing that he'd bared his fangs in warning until they poked at his lips.
"Stay the fuck away!" He growled.
It was all too much. He didn't know anyone, dammit, while everyone seemed to know him. How was he supposed to deal with all that?
"Scott? Why…?"
The female Alpha laughed humorlessly. "It's no use, Duke, your darling boy doesn't remember you, doesn't remember anything."
Whoa, darling boy?!
He didn't have time for that, for any of that. No matter how much he wanted to know who the hell all these people were, this wasn't the time nor the place.
Both newcomers looked stunned, before the younger one pressed his lips tightly. "We're gonna figure that out later, now let's free everyone and get the hell out of here before more hunters or feds show up."
Scott nodded mutely, escape had a higher priority than explanations, at least for the time being.
***
Scott was alive.
Scott was alive.
But… he wasn't the same. The moment he saw them, Scott's body tensed in mistrust, while his eyes showed no recognition, much less the fierce love that Deucalion was so used to seeing, had even taken for granted.
This was something he hadn't anticipated: that Scott would not remember him, would not remember their pack. The thought floored him completely, souring the euphoria he felt at the sight of his lover.
It hurt, not being able to kiss him, to hold him, but Deucalion tried to shove his disappointment to the back of his mind. Scott was alive, and that it was the only thing that mattered, everything else was secondary.
"Are you hurt?" He asked. It was a valid question, since the young Alpha was covered in blood and with multiple smells it was hard to tell if any of that blood belonged to Scott.
The teen shook his head at first, but then took a few seconds to actually assess his body for wounds he might not even feel due to high levels of adrenaline still coursing through his body. It appeared that one bullet grazed his arm, and the other hit his torso but went straight through, thankfully missing the vital organs and arteries, at least as much as they could tell at the first glance.
They were so bloody lucky it was unbelievable, and Deucalion wondered when their luck was going to finally run out.
Earlier, they had called the other groups scattered across the state and heading to other black sites, to let them know that it wasn't needed anymore and they'd found the one they'd been looking for. The initial plan had been to wait for them to arrive first, and in the meantime they'd been trying to figure out how to enter the building without getting pulverized by all the gun power they were fighting against.
It had been Stiles' idea to target the power system.
"Our only chance is to force them to shoot blindly," the teenager had said. "Otherwise it's going to be open season for duck shooting, with you two being the ducks."
They hadn't planned to enter the building without the rest of the pack being there to help, though, but then Deucalion had overheard Scott's shout, and urged Derek to act right now. He didn't know what he would've done if they'd been too late. Knowing that they were so close to Scott and still failed to save him… it was an unthinkable scenario, one that they needed to prevent at all cost, that's why they couldn't wait any longer.
Thankfully, they'd managed to get upstairs right in time to see that Scott didn't need any help, after all. Now, though, they had half a dozen werewolves on their hands, with no way to transport them all to safety, while the hunt for their heads could start any minute now.
In the end, they decided to steal the hunters' van, and abandon it as soon as they met with the rest of the pack, and then try to figure out what to do next. But no matter what trouble they were in for attacking a top secret government facility, the most important thing was that Scott was alive - and it was the only thing that Deucalion really cared about, consequences be damned.
***
When Scott saw Stiles sitting at the back of the car, the first familiar face in this foreign, hostile world he no longer recognized, he was overwhelmed by joy and relief. Stiles was here - and it meant that everything was going to be alright.
He didn't care who was looking and what they were going to think about him, he got into the car and threw his arms around his friend, shaking and sobbing, while the younger of the werewolves who had come to his rescue pressed on the gas hard, the tires squealing in protest.
"It's good to see you too, mate," Stiles patted him awkwardly on the back, but his voice was hoarse too, and when Scott looked back at him, he saw that the other boy's eyes were full of unshed tears.
"I needed to see at least one friendly face," Scott murmured while wiping his damp cheeks.
Stiles shot him a questioning look. "One friendly- What about Derek? And where's Duke? That guy wasn't himself when the pack thought you were dead, it's like all life was sucked out of him!"
He swallowed thickly. So Stiles knew these men - and Scott was supposed to know them, too. "He's driving the van. But Stiles, I don't remember them, either of them. I don't remember anything…" he choked up, and watched how Stiles' eyes widened in horror.
"What do you mean? How much did you forget? Ugh, ignore me, it's a stupid question, how would you know what you've forgotten if you don't remember it?" Stiles chewed on his lower lip. "What about the twins? Liam? Jackson?"
"I don't know them… Unless you mean that jerk Whittemore," Scott joked, expecting his friend to say something funny and sarcastic, that there was no way in hell they would have anything in common with that privileged asshole, but instead Stiles looked as if he was punched in the stomach.
"Oh shit, that's not good. In fact, it's downright awful… What about your memories of, you know, the other life?"
"The what?" He stared blankly at Stiles, who swore loudly.
"Fucking hell!"
Scott couldn't agree more.
Chapter Text
Six hours drive was a lot of time, giving Scott an opportunity to ponder on everything that had happened lately, but for some reason his mind rebelled, maybe overwhelmed by too much input and stimuli. That's why he spent a majority of that time curled into a ball, eyes closed and pretending to be asleep on the backseat of the car. He had a strong suspicion that he fooled no one with his act, but Stiles took it in stride and even moved to the front passenger seat to give him more space to lie comfortably.
If Scott had changed, then Stiles did too - the teen was more sure of himself, as if he finally settled in his skin; even his nervous tics and endless twitching were down to bare minimum and were almost unnoticeable now. And while Scott was happy for his friend, he only wished he remembered what was the reason behind such a miraculous change.
At some point they stopped and were joined by more people, but the news of his amnesia had probably already circulated around, as they kept their distance and after a brief discussion they retreated to their cars without trying to talk to him. Scott was glad that they did, even though thanks to his freakishly sharp senses he could still hear their hushed conversations, so he tried to tone them down as best as he could.
In the end he did fall asleep, either from sheer exhaustion or lulled by the repetitive vibrations of the car's engine, and he woke up when Stiles patted his arm.
"Hey, we're home."
He perked up, and sat up with renewed energy, but after looking through the window he realized that the area they were in was only vaguely familiar to him. It was Beacon Hills, he could tell as much, but it wasn't anywhere near his home.
"What is this place? Why are we here?"
He watched a realization dawning on Stiles' face, and his breath hitched. Did something happen to his home, or to his mom?
"Damn, I didn't think- You're not living in your old house anymore, it has been put up for sale."
What? He couldn't imagine living anywhere else, no matter the reason. "But it hasn't been sold yet?" He asked, just to be sure.
"From what l know, not yet. But Scott, it's completely empty-"
"It doesn't matter, just take me there," he demanded. This was the only link to his life as knew it, damn it. "And where's my mom? Why isn't she here?"
Stiles raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright, no need to be so defensive. Derek, take us to Scott's old house. Once we get there, I'll call Melissa to check if she's back in Beacon already."
Since when Stiles called Scott's mom by her given name? It was yet another weird, unexpected detail on the ever growing list of things that didn't make sense to him, to the point where he started to wonder if he'd fallen into some kind of alternate dimension. Everything that had happened to him so far had a twilight zone-ish vibe that he quickly started to despise.
He longed for something known, something familiar… Was that really too much to ask?
***
A few minutes later he was standing in front of his house, wondering out loud how he should get in without a key.
The werewolf - Derek, he recalled Stiles calling him that - watched him for a few seconds before muttering: "You could always jump to the roof and get in through the window."
Jump to the…? Right, he was a werewolf too - whatever that actually entailed - and he needed to start thinking like one.
His jump probably looked awkward as hell, as he half expected the man to be pulling his leg with his suggestion. His hesitance resulted in a graceless tumble on the roof tiles - but he did it, so he counted that as success.
As he opened the window to his room and took a step inside, he realized that Stiles wasn't exaggerating; the wardrobe was empty, none of his school stuff was in sight, and his bed was almost completely bare save from a mattress. With the exception of small trinkets lying discarded here and there, his room looked deserted, and gave off a sad, abandoned feeling that made him feel even worse than he already was. So much for a sense of familiarity…
He stood there stiffly with his hands in his pockets, feeling totally out of place and not knowing what to do, how to even start rebuilding his life.
What do you do when your home isn't home anymore?...
***
The rattling of keys, and then the sound of the front door being opened caused his heart to jump, and he ran downstairs, hoping - hoping so fucking much that it was his mom… And for once, his wishes were heard.
He fell into her open arms as if he was drowning and she was a safe shore, the only piece of reality that still made sense. He was crying openly, but so was she, and it was alright, because they were in this together.
"My precious boy," she kept whispering into his shoulder, and he was mumbling 'mom, mom' over and over again, as if it made her more tangible, more real.
It turned out that breaking down in her arms was the easy part, though.
"What happened to me, mom?" He asked with dread, suspecting that he wasn't going to like the answer. Boy, was he right.
Once she finished retelling the events that had led him here - even though he suspected that she omitted a lot of details - his mind was in total turmoil. He'd lived his life twice already, and was so many things, to so many people: Alpha werewolf, leader, friend… Lover.
He didn't even know which one of the roles he was supposed to play was the one that he most dreaded assuming once again. What did he know about being a werewolf, or an authority figure? How could he face people who once had meant the world to him - or so he was told - and tell them that he didn't know them, didn't care about them anymore?
How was he supposed to start stitching his life back again, when all the threads that connected various parts of him were now torn apart and he was left in pieces, unconnected, drifting amongst the broken remnants of his old self?
"I don't think I can do it," he choked out, overwhelmed, and looked at his mom desperately. "I don't think I can be that person again."
She put her arm around his shoulder, squeezing gently. "You don't have to put on an act, just be yourself, sweetie. With what you went through, no one really expects you to come out unscathed."
Her words should have calmed him down, but somehow they managed to do exactly the opposite. He started to pace in the living room, even more agitated than before.
"That's the problem, mom, I don't know what I went through… I don't know who I am anymore, or what I'm supposed to do."
She watched him in silence, lost for words, as if she didn't have any advice to give. And maybe he was unfair to her by expecting her to. It's not like he was a small kid anymore, believing that his parents were godlike, all-wise and capable of anything… He might not have his memories anymore, but he was fairly sure that he was long past that stage.
But if she couldn't help him, it meant that he needed to discover on his own who he truly was - even if in the end he wasn't going to be the person everyone expected him to be.
Chapter Text
That night Scott had trouble sleeping, turning restlessly on his bed in a much too empty room. When he finally managed to fall asleep, he was plagued by weird dreams that weighed on his mind and soul, even though he couldn't recall any of them in the morning once he woke up.
The only thing he did remember was a female voice that he's fairly sure he'd heard before, though he couldn't recall where or whom it belonged to. She'd whispered to him in his dreams: 'the blood remembers', but if that was supposed to be advice or a clue of some sort, he didn't know what to do with it. He had a nagging sense that it was important, though, so even though he felt a little ridiculous following such a vague hunch, he went to the kitchen and purposefully cut his finger, staring at the droplets of blood trickling down his hand and into the sink. If that was supposed to trigger his memory, it didn't work, and he licked the cut just a second before it started to heal.
Accelerated healing, huh? He should be awed, but the truth was that he only felt hollow and empty inside. He was still coming to terms with the knowledge that he was a werewolf, and while some part of him felt completely at ease with this idea, he missed an entire lifetime of memories that had made him that person, the True Alpha that everyone looked up to. How was he supposed to deal with that?...
When his mom entered the kitchen, he was still staring at the miraculously healed hand, the smooth skin feeling like an impossibility made real.
"What's wrong?"
He looked at her worried face and scoffed. "You mean besides the obvious?"
"Scott…"
Suddenly he felt ashamed for snapping at her like that. "I'm sorry, what happened to me is not your fault, I shouldn't be taking it out on you."
She stepped closer and rubbed his shoulder in a vain attempt at comfort. "I'm here if you need me."
"I know. But right now, I think it's time for me to meet my pack."
He didn't know what or who he was anymore, so the only thing he could do was to follow his gut feelings. Currently it told him to quit stalling and face reality head on, so this is what he planned to do.
"Alright then," she nodded with agreement. "I'll call Chris and tell him that we're coming."
He blinked, surprised. "Who's Chris? Someone I know?"
She bit her lower lip, which told him that yes, he definitely knew the guy. Or had known, to be more precise, before his memory had been wiped out.
"He's my- my partner," she said hesitantly, watching his expression as one could watch a ticking bomb.
"You mean, a romantic partner? Your new boyfriend? Wow," he exhaled slowly when she nodded. "So, he's like a stepdad to me? Do we at least get along?"
"Actually, he's been your friend long before he and I got involved. He confided in you as much as you confided in him, so I wouldn't call it a father-son relationship… I'm not an expert on this, but you considered him a part of your pack."
So, yet another person on his ever growing list of people he had been close to before all this mess happened… "Does dad know?"
"He knows- Oh my God, I haven't told Raf yet that you're alive! He's going to be so relieved!"
He made a face. "Did he mourn me when all of you were thinking that I was dead? Did he even notice?"
His mom looked at him sternly. "We all mourned you, and Raf… He was as devastated as I was. I know that you remember the times when the two of you were still estranged, but you've reconciled since then. Try to give him some slack, if you can."
Wow, this was truly an alternate reality, then. He tried to picture actually having an amicable relationship with his father, but he couldn't wrap his mind around the image. All that he could remember was Rafael telling him to pack and driving him from San Francisco back to Beacon Hills like excess baggage, or a faulty appliance to be returned to the manufacturer.
Scott had never fit his dad's busy, workaholic lifestyle, and it was difficult for him to imagine a different scenario... But then again, if werewolves were real, then maybe everything was possible.
***
Standing before the building that he was told was their new home, Scott took a deep breath, trying to prepare himself for what awaited him inside. He knew on some abstract level that these people knew him, maybe even loved him, but that probably would make meeting them even worse…
And just as expected, when he went upstairs following his mom's lead, his senses were assaulted by so many strong emotions that it made it hard for him to breathe. Love, guilt, happiness, relief, even a small bit of anger - the onslaught of feelings caused him to stop in his tracks and he stood frozen in the doorway, while a dozen people watched him as if he was a ghost, many of them with tears in their eyes.
He was ready to bolt when Stiles called loudly: "Alright folks, stop staring, and give him some space, for God's sake!"
"Yeah, and if you could feel less… intensely, that would be great," he said hoarsely. "I appreciate that you're all happy to see me, I really do, but it's a little too much."
"Easier said than done," a blond teen snorted, though he wiped a tear off his cheek while saying this.
"Um, Isaac, is it?" He vaguely remembered the boy from school. "Were we close?"
"You were my first love, then my foster brother and my best friend… So yeah, you can say that we were close."
Fuck. What could he say to that? Finally, he muttered awkwardly: "Sorry for not remembering any of that."
The boy shrugged. "Not your fault. Besides, we're used to you miraculously defying the odds, so I bet that sooner or later you're gonna get your memories back."
Defying the odds, huh? How was he supposed to meet all of these expectations? He wasn't some kind of a super-hero that his pack apparently thought him to be; he could barely keep himself together.
"Excuse me," he said quickly before running down the stairs, pushing the front door open and escaping outside, his chest heaving.
He was standing like that for a few long moments before he heard hesitant footsteps behind him.
"I just need a few moments alone, okay?" he called out desperately to whomever that was.
"As you wish. I just wanted you to know that I'm going to move to my old apartment so that you don't feel pressured into sharing space with me."
He blinked and turned around, seeing the man who was supposed to be his lover standing a few feet away from him with a travel bag in his hand. He didn't know why, but that sight caused his stomach to twist unpleasantly. Did he already start to push people away?...
"You don't have to go."
"Do you even remember us? Anything at all?" Deucalion watched him closely, as if waiting for any sign of recognition on his face. When Scott shook his head mutely, the man pressed his lips, his body scent clouded with disappointment. "If that's the case, then I do need to go. Anything else would be a violation of your privacy, and I refuse to force my presence on you that way."
As Deucalion started walking towards the parking lot, Scott felt strangely lost. He didn't know the man, but he knew himself, and if they really had been together, then surely there was a reason for it.
"Wait, please," he called out and was relieved when Deucalion turned around to face him. "Look, you're right, I don't feel comfortable sharing a flat with you at the moment. Just- can you honestly tell me that I loved you? Like, truly loved you?"
The man's expression was raw and twisted with emotions as he said hoarsely: "More than anyone has ever loved me, and probably more than I deserved."
He swallowed thickly, sensing that there was more to their history than he'd initially thought, but that only strengthened his conviction that he couldn't just let Deucalion go, not without even a single attempt to reconnect.
"Then I want you to ask me out, even if I don't get my memories back."
The man observed him in silence for a long moment, before asking: "Why? To torture us both with what we've lost?"
He shook his head. "I refuse to believe that love is so circumstantial that it has simply disappeared along with my memories. I can't promise you anything at this point, but at the very least I want to give us another chance… Unless you don't want it."
"Oh Scott, please believe me when I say that this is not an issue, and never will be," Deucalion's expression gentled, and for the first time Scott felt an inkling why he'd fallen in love with this man in the first place. "I just didn't want you to try to be with me out of some kind of misguided sense of obligation. But if that's not the case… Would you like to go out on a date with me?"
Such a simple question, but he still felt his heart beating faster with excitement, and suddenly he knew without a shred of doubt that there was a potential there. Maybe not love yet, or even anything close to it, but definitely a spark of interest that could evolve into something more, so he nodded with agreement.
"Maybe in a few days, once I settle into my new life… or actually, the old one," he corrected himself. "But yes, definitely."
"I'm looking forward to it," Deucalion murmured.
Scott was a little surprised - though maybe he shouldn't be - to realize that he fully shared the sentiment.
Chapter Text
While everyone waited for a chance to talk with Scott, Chris retreated to his apartment. He sat down on the bed and hid his head in his hands, wondering if this is how life was supposed to look like, gaining and losing people in an endless loop of joy and grief.
When the night before Derek had told him about Kate's death, he wished to have someone to talk to, someone who would understand the myriad of complicated emotions he felt in that moment. Pain and sorrow, but also guilt, because a part of him was actually relieved that his sister would never threaten his loved ones ever again. He couldn't even ask Melissa to keep him company, not when Scott needed her equally as much, if not more.
Derek seemed to understand what he was going through, but wasn't much of a talker, and while Chris was grateful for his silent support, his heart longed for another werewolf, another Hale. Because even if Peter had broken his heart, he would've understood. And among all the sarcastic, cutting remarks, he would have told Chris what he needed to hear, that there's no shame in feeling relieved that Kate's no longer a threat.
Then, Peter would remind him that he's a Hale now, not an Argent, and that he needed to get his shit together, and focus on his true family. But Peter had disappeared without an explanation, so why did Chris miss the man so much that it hurt, even more than losing Kate did?...
***
After the encounter with Deucalion, Scott needed to take a couple of deep breaths to get a grip on himself. Only once he felt more like himself, and less like an animal trapped in a too small a cage, did he go back inside to face his pack.
"Sorry for that, I just needed a moment," he explained with an apologetic smile. "I'm not sure if I can manage any emotional talks at this point, so can we focus on more practical stuff for now? Like, do you know who held me captive and what did they want? And what about the other werewolves that were freed yesterday, did they return to their homes safely?"
Hearing that, everyone relaxed, as if all the tension was suddenly drained from them.
"Hey, what did I say?" He asked, baffled by their reaction.
Stiles laughed. "You have no idea how good it is to have you back with us, mate. Amnesia or not, you still have what it takes to be the leader, even without trying."
Oh. He wasn't even aware that he'd taken charge, he'd done it instinctively, as if it was the most natural thing to do. And judging by the pack's reaction, no one seemed to be offended by it; if anything, they seemed happy and relieved, as if he was actually acting in character.
Maybe, just maybe, he could be what they needed without feeling too much like an impostor?...
"Okay, let's sit down and talk," he decided. "About the other werewolves that were imprisoned with me, are they okay?"
"They didn't have any money or even a phone with them, so I let them use mine so that they could contact their packs," the werewolf that had helped him escape - Derek, he recalled - explained. "Kali disappeared without a word, but that's what she usually does, so I'm not much concerned. I wouldn't even be surprised if she slept in my old house again."
He nodded slowly, absorbing the news. "Okay, that's good. But what about the reason behind these kidnappings, have any of you heard of - what was it called - Protection of the Human DNA Act or something like that?"
"Human Genome," a girl he didn't recognize corrected him with a furrowed brow. "But what's that got to do with you? I've read about it, it's an act about genetic modifications in humans, it basically forbids all kinds of human genome editing that could be heritable."
"Well, according to the woman who was bragging about it, it effectively stripped any human rights off of everyone who doesn't have fully human DNA."
She gaped at him. "That's impossible! We would have heard about it… right?"
She looked somewhere between disbelieving and outraged at the prospect of the government purposely targeting the supernatural creatures, and she wasn't the only one.
"Maybe it was sold to the public as a method to prevent some crazy-ass scientists from implanting human cells in monkeys and rats," Stiles said with a grimace. "It makes people queasy, so everyone would vote for it just to avoid thinking about the possibility of a pig having a human face."
Scott wasn't particularly fond of that prospect either, but being a werewolf was a completely different scenario, he could tell as much. Even though he wasn't one for long, it felt natural to him, it felt right.
"So what do we do?" A young blonde boy, fourteen, maybe fifteen at most, asked worriedly.
As Scott looked around, he realized that the entire pack had the same hope reflected in everyone's eyes, that he could fix this, somehow. He didn't know what kind of superpowers they thought he had, but he was fairly sure that overthrowing the government wasn't amongst them.
"For now, we lay low, and gather as much information as we can without raising suspicion," he decided. It was a deflection of sorts, a way for him to buy himself some time to actually think about what they could realistically do about the fact that they weren't safe in their own country anymore.
***
The next phone call proved that he didn't have that time, though, or any time at all.
"While I'm happy that you're alive, Scott, do you have any idea why a bunch of federal agents are knocking on my door, asking about you?" Sheriff asked, and Scott could picture to the smallest detail his disgruntled expression.
He put the phone away for a second and looked at his mom, asking quietly: "Can he be trusted?" Only when she nodded firmly did he put her phone back to his ear to reply to the man's question.
"I was held captive and experimented on in a secret government facility. I needed to fight my way out, so I guess that they're not happy about it."
"Oh crap," Sheriff cursed. "That's not good. I can only stall them for a short time, but you need to disappear. I can't protect you, do you understand?"
"Yeah, I get it. Thanks for the heads-up, Sheriff," he said honestly.
"Don't mention it. And don't tell me where you're going, it's better that I don't know anything. Good luck!"
As the man hung up abruptly, Scott looked at his pack.
"Everyone who's not human, we need to leave right now. Leave your phones, cars, or any devices that the feds can track, and come with me."
"Where are we going?" One of the almost identical twins asked, and he smiled grimly.
"We're wolves, where else would we run but to the forest?"
He couldn't be sure if this wasn't just some kind of delusion, but something in him urged him to get away from these walls, or any walls at all for that matter. It was that part of him that fought the FBI back in the black site without blinking, so he allowed it to come to the surface, letting it lead them all towards safety… Or at least, that's what he hoped for.
His mom gave him a quick but fierce hug. "Please be safe."
"I'll do my best," he promised. "Can you let Deucalion know where we are?"
"Of course. Now go!" She urged, and they went.
***
As they were running towards the preserve, he felt his heart beating in his chest furiously, high on adrenaline. And while he enjoyed the enhanced speed and the way his muscles flexed with each move, he hated the fact that they were forced to run away like this.
They didn't deserve it, to be hunted as if they were rabid beasts. He didn't need to have his memories back to know that, since that knowledge seemed to be embedded deep in his bones: they might be werewolves, but they weren't monsters, even if the law itself said otherwise.
When he caught a whiff of a peculiar scent, he stopped in his tracks. Why did he sense an old blood, his blood, in the air? He sniffed tentatively, then followed that scent, which led him to a young oak tree, its bark covered in brownish, dried blood.
"What happened here?"
"We don't know, it's the place where the trail led us to when we tried to find you," Derek explained, and he frowned.
"So it led you to this forest, rather than to the black site? How did you try to track me down?"
"The kitsune that was helping us was supposed to find you based on a personal item that linked me to you. She said that the more significant the memory of it was, the stronger the connection would be, but- Something must have gone wrong."
He shivered, half with excitement and half with a sudden sense of foreboding. "Maybe because I didn't actually remember it, so instead it led you… here?"
The blood remembers.
Could it really be the answer…?
"I think- I think that this is where I lost my memories," he swallowed with difficulty.
Not stopping to think about it or to analyze it, he extended his claws and plunged them deep into the bloodied tree. Then, he threw his head back as his mind was bombarded with a flood of images, one after another, until he thought he couldn't take it anymore, so he screamed hoarsely, barely registering the fact that he fell to his knees.
... And the memories just kept coming.
Chapter Text
Months of memories assaulted his mind, and he struggled to make sense of the flood of sights, tastes and scents that he was bombarded with, as they were all mashed together. When he caught a glimpse of the Wild Hunt, though, he immediately focused on that particular piece, hoping that it contained an explanation on why he'd lost his memories in the first place.
… Even though he actually dreaded the answer.
***
He's high in the sky, carried on the back of a ghostly horse while Deucalion quickly turns into a small dot, then disappears from his sight.
He can't help shaking from anxiety and despair at the thought that he has to face his fate alone. Is this really the last time he's seen Deucalion or his mom? Maybe it's better that way, though. It would break his heart if the people he loves were forced to watch whatever is going to happen to him now.
When the horse's hooves touch the ground again, he's thrown carelessly onto the ground, and the force of the impact knocks the breath out of his lungs for a moment. He stands up slowly, watching with apprehension as the Wild Hunt gathers around him, surrounding him completely. Their eerie silence is even more unnerving, and he hates not being able to communicate with them, ask what they're going to do to him. Then, he's grabbed by two Riders and dragged towards the tree that he immediately recognizes: the Nemeton.
It's quite fitting, to die here of all places, he thinks to himself with something resembling a weary acceptance, but when he's shoved against the Nemeton's trunk and brutish hands tear the clothes from his body, he starts to struggle in their hold, a cold dread settling in his stomach. They push his face and torso against the Nemeton, the bark scratching his naked skin, then force his arms apart so that they surround the trunk. Then, a rope is fastened tightly around his wrists and he tries to contain his panic.
Not seeing his executioners turns out to be even more frightening than facing them.
The first crack of the whip, the way it whooshes while cutting the air is a shock enough, and when it lands on his naked back, he screams from pain. But even that is nothing compared to the way his soul screams with agony as he feels his packbond with Derek shattering into pieces, leaving a gaping wound in its stead.
"No, no, not this-" he whimpers, but before he can catch a breath, the whip cracks again, and this time when it lands on his back, he feels his bond with Peter breaking while blood trickles down his skin.
He swallows a sob and falls to his knees, leaning heavily against the Nemeton, since his legs are shaking so much that they can't hold his weight anymore.
"Please," he begs. "They're my pack- please don't take them away from me…"
Even when he traveled to the past, he could still feel his packbonds in the back of his mind, dormant, weakened, but at least they were there. To be stripped of them completely is one of his worst nightmares, but it seems that this is the price he needs to pay for saving his pack.
With each strike yet another bond shatters and he feels like a piece of porcelain that has been broken so utterly that there's more cracks in it than it's possible to count. Adding to that the pain and the humiliation of being stripped and whipped without mercy, and suddenly it's all too much for him to bear.
As he loses the last link to everyone he's ever loved, he finally breaks down and starts crying uncontrollably, feeling completely and utterly alone- Then, he hears a familiar growling, and he breathes with relief that no, he's not alone after all.
Before the Ghost Riders can react, a huge, black dog surrounded by flames clenches its jaws on the ropes holding Scott in place, and they sizzle from the heat within seconds. Then, the dog transforms into its human counterpart, and it's Jordan who helps him stand up.
"Whoa- why are you here?" Scott asks, darting a worried glance at the Ghost Riders who seem to be enraged by the interruption, but seem to hesitate to attack them - for now, at least.
"You didn't think that I'll simply let you go, did you? Not on my watch, Commander."
He feels a sudden surge of hope before he remembers that he can't fight this, not if he doesn't want his family and friends to suffer for it.
As if reading his mind, Jordan shakes his head. "I don't mean to fight the Wild Hunt, or to run away, but let me talk to them, I'll try to bargain with them."
Scott nods, then watches anxiously as the Hellhound communicates with the Riders on a level he can't begin to comprehend, and tries as he might, he can't help but feel hopeful that maybe this isn't the end, after all.
When Jordan finally turns back to him, he takes a shaky breath.
"What did they say?"
The Hellhound's face is troubled as he explains: "I asked them why did they take you today, rather than waiting for the summer solstice, and it seems like they didn't plan on it. However, when they sensed Lowenmensch's death, they became angry at the loss of a future Ghost Rider - and rather than kill you, they decided to make you one of them as a compensation for their loss. But in order to do that, they need to 'hollow' you, strip you of everything that makes you the person that you are."
"My packbonds!"
Jordan nods. "Yes, and your memories; they're going to take them away too. So whatever's left in you afterwards-"
"-is not really me, but an empty, emotionless husk," he swallows with difficulty. This can't be his fate, he can't bear the thought of spending the rest of eternity as some kind of zombie, with a functioning body but completely void inside.
"There's a way for you to avoid this, but you're not going to like it," his Hellhound says hesitantly.
He blinks, surprised. "I thought that paying the price for changing fate is unavoidable."
"That's true, but what if someone else could take your place… You know how much the Riders have always tried to convince me to join the Wild Hunt."
He can feel his body tensing in protest as his entire being resounds with a fierce 'no!'. "You've already died for me once, I won't allow you to sacrifice yourself for me again," he says sternly, but then the Hellhound's eyes flare up with a fiery light and he knows that it's Cerberus speaking with him now.
"Have I disappointed you in any way, Commander? Displeased you, perhaps?"
"Never!" He says hotly.
"Then remember the oath of loyalty I once swore to you. From that very moment, my life's single purpose has been keeping you from harm. I vowed that my body will always stand between you and your enemies, and I don't intend to break that promise."
He swallows with difficulty, his throat suddenly clenched. "No, I can't let you do this!"
Cerberus sighs, a surprisingly human gesture for an immortal being such as him. "Don't make me a forswearer, master. Please."
Scott closes his eyes tightly, but a few tears still manage to escape and trickle down his cheeks. He startles when warm, almost too warm hands brush them away gently, and he looks hesitantly at the Hellhound, whose gaze is calm and solemn, and so full of love and devotion it's almost unbearable.
"How can I ever repay you for this?" He asks brokenly.
"You don't have to repay me in any way. But if I can voice a wish, then be the protector the supernatural world needs, especially when I'm gone."
"I will."
He wants to say a thousand words more, every single expression that exists in human language that would convey how thankful he is for Jordan/Cerberus' endless loyalty to him, but in that moment darkness surrounds him and he feels the memory slipping through his fingers like sand. He tries to keep his hold on it, but to no avail, and soon the abyss closes in on him...
***
He gasped loudly before realizing that rather in the Preserve, he was now in the shadow world where he'd first met Nemeton's avatar. Thankfully, he didn't need to traipse through the dark forest in search of her, as she was already waiting for him, wearing Lydia's body. This time she wasn't singing or dancing, though, and her usually dreamy, unconcerned expression was now stern, almost grave.
"At last, you've remembered your purpose, and not a moment too early. You need to wake up, now."
"Please, I still don't know what happened next, how did I lose my memories? And how did the hunters get to me?"
She pressed her lips, clearly displeased by the delay, but explained nevertheless: "Making a deal with the Wild Hunt is as slippery as their own chaotic nature. They accepted your Hound's offer that he'd take your place in their ranks if they promise not to kill you or make you into one of them. However, the bargain didn't say anything about letting you keep your memories - nor were the Riders forbidden from delivering you to your enemies, which was a loophole they eagerly exploited."
"What's your role in all of this, then? And why was I allowed to regain my memories now?"
"While the Wild Hunt obeyed the letter of their bargain, they didn't follow its spirit, thus allowing me to step in, to restore the balance," she explained. "You didn't regain all your memories, though, only the ones this body actually experienced. All the recollections from your first life are now lost, just as they should be, as they tipped the scales too much in your favor. The ones you've written down are now ash, and the only being having the memories of your past - the Hellhound - is forever bound to the Wild Hunt, now."
The reminder of Jordan's fate wasn't pleasant, considering the weight of guilt he was already carrying without being reminded of it, but he shoved his despair to the back of his mind and focused on the part of Nemeton's explanation that didn't seem correct to him.
"But- that's not true, I remember Parrish sacrificing himself for me in the first timeline, so I gained those memories back, too."
She raised her eyebrow at him. "Did you really?"
He opened his mouth to confirm that yes, of course he remembers, when he realized that he couldn't recall the actual memories of his first life, only the times when he'd talked about those events in this timeline.
"Enough about the past, the present is much pressing at the moment," she interrupted his musings. "There are humans in the forest, dozens of them, armed with guns and wolfsbane alike. I can't make them go away, but you can."
"But how can I fight them if there's so many of them?" Back in the black site, he'd had the advantage of seeing in the dark while they'd fought blindly once the power had gone out, but now… Now, he didn't have any aces left up his sleeve.
"Foolish child, remember that you've bled on my roots and let yourself be stripped of all your packbonds while being bound to me. There's power in such sacrifice, especially since you treasured those bonds more than life itself. For as long as you use it to protect this land, that power is yours to wield. Now go!"
She put a palm on his forehead and this time it felt as if he was being lifted from the abyss and into the light.
Chapter Text
Watching Scott screaming hoarsely and being unable to do anything about it, was for Derek like taking a dagger to the chest… He knelt beside Scott, clutching at his Alpha's forearm in a futile attempt to take away at least a portion of the pain, but whatever was happening, it wasn't physical in nature, and there was no pain to absorb.
Then, Scott gasped out loud and opened his eyes, his stare so full of emotions and familiarity that replaced the indifference of the past few days, that he couldn't help but feel a tentative hope.
"Scott, your memories-"
"Yeah, I got them back," Scott nodded, his eyes shining. "Not everything, the memories of my previous life are lost, but that's not important. What matters the most is that I remember you, all of you."
The teen's legs wobbled while he was standing up, so Derek grasped his arm to steady him. Next thing he knew, he was being pulled into a tight embrace, and he let out a choked sob - gods, how he's missed Scott's hugs!
Then, without warning, the pack bond they'd once shared came to life again, bright and vibrant and strong. And just like that, he knew that he wasn't alone anymore - even though technically he hadn't been alone these past few months, having Stiles and the pack by his side, but feeling the link with his Alpha once more… It was like coming home.
He didn't get the chance to savor the feeling for as long as he'd like to, though, since Scott moved to embrace the kids, but he didn't mind at all, hoping that soon they'd have all the time they needed to make up for all the cuddle times they'd missed.
***
My pack, I got my pack back, Scott thought faintly to himself, overwhelmed with love and relief. He hugged Jackson tightly, but when he tried to pull Liam into his arms, the boy took a step back, a tear flowing down his cheek which he wiped with a shaking hand.
"I- I'm so sorry, you were gone, and I needed an Alpha- Please don't hate me…"
"I could never hate you, you're my pup, remember?" He said gently. "But I don't get it, what are you sorry for?"
It was Ethan who answered, his usually bright eyes shadowed with worry and guilt: "Liam is our Beta now. We didn't think that you'd mind-"
He exhaled slowly in relief. "Of course I don't mind. We're all a part of one, bigger pack, and you forming packbonds among yourselves doesn't change that. Now all three of you, come here and give me a hug."
They obliged at once, and within a second he had his arms full of emotional boys. He looked above their shoulders, just to see deep longing and sadness on Malia's, Lori's and Brett's faces. Sensing that something was wrong, he pulled back, then stiffened as he realized that he was missing a packmate.
"Wait, where's Peter?" Their grim faces spoke volumes, and he swallowed with difficulty, his stomach suddenly heavy with dread. "Please don't tell me that he's…"
Brett shook his head. "He's not dead, we can still feel our bonds with him, but they're strained, barely there."
"What happened?"
"One day he just left, and never came back," Malia said bitterly, her palms clenched tightly into fists.
He didn't understand, Peter was supposed to lead the pack in his stead… He rubbed his face, trying to gather his thoughts and focus on the here and now. "As long as he's alive, he can still be found, but that's a task for another day… Now, are you going to make me wait for that hug much longer, guys?"
Malia snorted, though her eyes were gleaming with tears, and put her arms around him, followed shortly by Lori and Brett.
"The good news is that the Ghost Riders are no longer a threat - well, at least no more of a threat than they normally are," he explained as he pulled back, his pack watching him expectantly. "The bad news is, we have a battle to fight against the feds, but I have a couple of aces up my sleeve, so unless something happens to me, please keep your distance and let me do the fighting, okay?"
Derek folded his arms across his chest stubbornly. "There's no way that we're letting you face them alone."
"I won't, since I have all of you as my backup. But I'll be able to focus better if I know that you're not heading straight into danger, so for now just stay back and observe, okay? Trust me, I've got this."
Derek hesitated, then nodded reluctantly, and Scott clasped his arm in thanks.
***
He could sense the feds' heavy boots crushing plants and insects alike, uncaring and dismissive of what was surrounding them. They were like itching under his skin, or like a fly buzzing constantly near his ear, and he wanted nothing more than to bat them away.
Somehow, the closer he got to the intruders, the more calm he felt, and his mind was clear of everything besides the need to protect his pack and his land. The entire forest felt like an extension of his senses, and never before had he felt so aware of the world around him.
When they finally spotted him, the entire unit quickly formed a wall of bodies, guns pointed straight at him.
"This is FBI, put your hands up in the air!"
"You're trespassing where you're not wanted," he called out, instead. "Leave now and no one will get hurt."
"Hands up, or we'll shoot!"
He sighed; so much for reasoning with them. If diplomacy had failed, maybe a show of strength would get through their thick skulls?...
He closed his eyes and knelt, placing his palm flat on the ground. Then, he reached deep into the source of power that was pulsing steadily beneath his feet, and he gasped as he was flooded with so much energy that he could barely contain it within himself. As he stood up and opened his eyes, they must have shone with the Alpha light, as it caused a nervous commotion among the agents. When he took a step forward, he was almost deafened by the overwhelming gunfire, as almost two dozen guns shot in his direction all at once.
What was it that hunters were always saying, 'didn't anyone ever tell you not to bring claws to a gunfight?' Well, he had his own saying: don't bring weapons when the other side has magic at their disposal... And thankfully, this time it was he who had that advantage.
He threw his hands up and suddenly a barrier made of pure light appeared in front of him, causing the bullets to rebound in the feds' direction; he could hear pained gasps and muffled screams when the bullets tore through them. Since the agents were wearing protective gear, most of the gasps were due to the force of the impact rather than true damage, but his nose also caught a scent of fresh blood, so at least some of the bullets must have hit home.
Not waiting for the second salvo, he made an upwards gesture, causing vines to sprout from the ground, which then curled around the feds' ankles and yanked hard, causing the agents to fall to the ground. Then, the plants tightened around their legs, torsos, hands and arms, effectively keeping them down, immobilized and powerless… Which was exactly how he wanted them.
"Maybe this will help you cool off a bit," he taunted as he walked among the fallen men, making sure that neither of them was able to reach any weapons.
"You bastard, some of us are wounded!" One of the younger agents called out, thrashing furiously in the vines' hold.
"Rodriguez, be silent!" An older man bellowed, and Scott hummed with satisfaction: now he knew who was in charge here - well, not counting himself.
"I was the one shot at, not to mention kidnapped and experimented on, so I won't apologize for defending myself. Now, if any of you is seriously hurt, this is the time to speak up."
"Murphy is unconscious, he's that redhead lying to my right," Rodriguez said, making his boss hiss angrily.
"Agent, do not engage with the enemy!"
"I'm your enemy only if you insist on making me so," Scott pointed out, then squatted beside the unconscious redhead, checking his wounds. He quickly realized that the man got hit in the upper leg and he was going to bleed out if he didn't receive medical attention soon.
He sent an impulse via his bond with Derek, calling his pack to join him, and they obeyed at once, appearing by his side in less than half a minute.
"That barrier of light- it was awesome!" Liam called enthusiastically, his bright eyes gleaming with so much awe that Scott had to suppress a grimace. While he could understand the excitement at seeing the Nemeton's power at work, the violence itself shouldn't ever be admired.
"That it was, but I'd honestly prefer if the FBI simply left us alone and we didn't need to fight for our lives," he commented, then added: "Everyone, fan out and watch the others while I heal this one."
"Yes sir," Jackson said solemnly, in a way that Scott couldn't help but think about Jordan, even as he dug his claws into the agent's thigh to fish out the bullet, then put his palms flat on the skin in order to heal the wound.
He couldn't believe that he wouldn't see his Hellhound ever again… after two lifetimes of camaraderie, fighting together and defying the odds time and time again, he couldn't imagine not having Jordan by his side. It wasn't supposed to end this way!
The thunder that cracked in a distance caused him to jump to his feet. This wasn't a natural storm, and he shivered at the thought of having to face the Wild Hunt again. Were they still going to punish him for the time travel? But he'd been so sure that he'd already paid the price and the balance in the universe was restored…
He gritted his teeth. This wasn't justice or even fate, so this time, he wasn't going down without a fight... He only hoped that he wouldn't have to fight Jordan, too.
Chapter Text
Scott watched in nervous anticipation as the Wild Hunt descended from the sky, lightning striking on their path. He had to look away, though, as he sensed someone running through the woods. It took him a moment to focus his senses in that direction, and he brightened the second he recognized the man.
Deucalion.
He met him halfway and flung his arms around the man's neck, pulling him into a fervent, hungry kiss that was long overdue. He felt Deucalion's shocked surprise, then delight as the realization sunk in.
"Scott, does it mean-"
"Yes, I remember. Gods, I love you so much," he mumbled, showering Deucalion's face with small kisses, causing the man to laugh joyfully, successfully wiping away the sorrow and uncertainty of the last few months.
How hard it must have been for Deucalion, to watch Scott being taken away and being helpless to do anything about it? And later, not knowing what had happened and if they would see each other ever again, or if this was the end of their time together?... For someone who'd already been dealt a lot of blows in his life, it was a miracle that this hadn't thrown Deucalion into yet another homicidal rage, but it was also proof of how much the man had changed during the last few months.
With crystal clarity Scott knew in his very bones that this was his mate, now and forever - or at least, for as long as they lived - and he didn't feel ashamed of the few tears that trickled down his cheeks as they kissed and hugged, and then kissed again.
Their short moment of happiness was suddenly interrupted by a loud thunder, though, and they both stiffened at the sound.
"No, not again," Deucalion's arms tightened almost painfully around Scott, but he didn't mind. If it was his decision, he would never leave his love's embrace ever again.
"This wasn't supposed to happen; Jordan took my place, so the Ghost Riders shouldn't have any claim on me anymore."
Deucalion's brow furrowed in confusion. "Who's Jordan? And what do you mean, he took your place?"
"Damn it, that's the problem with the Ghost Riders, they wipe people's memories and make them forget those they kidnapped so that no one would come looking for them. Jordan is my Hellhound, the only other person who remembered what happened in the previous timeline… He volunteered to take my place and join the Wild Hunt so that I didn't have to, but he did it willingly, so why would the Riders remove your memories of him? It doesn't make any sense, but it doesn't matter, I guess; whatever they have planned, this time I don't plan on going down without a fight."
Deucalion nodded, his lips pressed into a thin line. Scott could sense both his desperation, as well as steel determination to not let the past repeat itself - and it was the mirror image of his own feelings.
***
Being a Hellhound was something of a quasi-life, being thrust time and time again from the endless, shapeless Void into the mortal world, with its concepts of passage of time, of birth and death and everything in between.
And Cerberus had seen it all: the ancient streets of Babylon, where gods walked undisguised among humans; even the mighty Atlantis at the peak of its power. He'd watched empires rise and fall, and witnessed magic's slow decline as old forests were cut down to make space for agriculture and animal grazing. With the rapid growth of human settlements, the places of power had become few and far between, to the point that most mortals stopped believing in its existence… That's why the Hellhounds have been trying to protect the supernatural; but the more human civilization grew, the harder their task became.
The magic didn't disappear entirely, though; most of it had seeped deep into the ground, beyond the reach of the modern civilization. The rest of it remained ingrained in the supernatural creatures still walking the earth, like werecreatures and banshees. They were like living, walking chalices of power, the last remnants of the ancient times which were now considered nothing more than fables and myths.
Cerberus knew that most of his brethren considered werewolves as mere vessels for the magic they were supposed to guard, and nothing more than that. For centuries, he'd had the same mindset, free of feelings or anything even remotely resembling an emotional attachment; and all those years he'd been forced to watch the decline of everything magical. Seeing his own failure spread before him had opened his eyes to the truth: that he couldn't guard the supernatural world without becoming a part of it, without linking his own fate with those he was supposed to protect.
The first step he'd taken was to merge his consciousness with that of his mortal host, to coexist rather than simply possess the man's body. It had allowed him to experience what immortal beings normally couldn't: love, fear, anger, sorrow, joy… For all his eternal existence, this was actually the first time when he truly felt alive.
But it hadn't been enough to tip the scales and help them win the war, so he'd chosen to follow the very werewolf whom magic itself deemed as worthy: the True Alpha. He'd sworn to always stand beside him, to be the shield between Scott and his enemies, to follow him into fight no matter the outcome. Unbeknownst to Scott, though, he didn't make just a promise; he'd taken the Void itself as a witness of his vow, so that nothing and no one could release him from it.
Never, not even for a single second did he regret his decision, and when the time had come for him to sacrifice himself for his Commander, he did so without hesitation. It wasn't the end of his journey, though; it was only the beginning.
***
The pack huddled together back to back, facing the Wild Hunt that now surrounded them from all sides, the horses neighing and stomping their hooves. Scott was holding Deucalion's hand when he saw a huge black hound surrounded by flames trotting towards them, and he instinctively tightened his grip, his muscles tightening anxiously at the sight.
He didn't know if he could fight Jordan, his loyal, steadfast Hellhound who would have readily walked to hell and back - for him. The very thought of being on opposing sides was making him sick, and sensing this, Deucalion rubbed his back gently, calming and anchoring him.
The hound whined as its body started to transform into a human and soon enough Jordan stood before them, naked and covered from head to toe with soot and ash.
"Master," the Hellhound rasped, his eyes gleaming with a fiery light, then knelt before Scott without hesitation. What was even more surprising, though, is that the Ghost Riders dismounted and bowed too, each and every one of them bending their neck in submission. "The Wild Hunt is at your command."
He gaped, for a few moments shocked into silence. "But- how? Why? And please, you don't have to kneel. Not after everything you've done for me."
Cerberus nodded and stood up, the Ghost Riders following suit and straightening as well. "As you wish, Commander. As for your questions, since the Ghost Riders didn't have any qualms using the loopholes in our agreement, basically dropping you in hunters' lap, as soon as I felt the power surge coming off the Nemeton, I challenged their leader to a duel… My power alone wouldn't have sufficed to defeat him, but with that additional boost I was able to send him back into the Void where he belongs."
"But- Does it mean that you're free now? That you'll return to us?" He asked hopefully, but Cerberus shook his head.
"I've made a binding deal to become a Ghost Rider. If I was ever to rescind that, you'd be the one paying the price, and I can't allow that to happen. I don't regret it, though. If you wish to protect werewolves, you'll need the Wild Hunt." The Hellhound pointed where the FBI agents were still lying on the ground, bound and immobile. "This is just the beginning, the first wave of a flood that will drown the entire supernatural world. It's not only about hunters anymore, you're waging a war against an entire government."
"Do you think that I don't know that?" He asked, letting some of his fear and frustration show on his face. "But what can Ghost Riders do? Assuming that they'll even be willing to help us…"
The smirk that stretched the Hellhound's lips was pure Jordan, his human side shining through. "They'll do what they are ordered to. Being the leader of the Wild Hunt means having absolute power over them, and I fully intend to use it. As for what they can do for you… What they do best: removing memories."
He perked up at the idea, before he realized that this might not be enough to solve their problem. "We don't know who is aware of the supernatural and who isn't… How would we even know who to target?"
"We'll have to wipe the minds of the entire nation, then, remove the humans' knowledge of our existence."
Whoa, the entire nation?... He stared at Cerberus, astounded and shocked by the idea. "Is that even possible?"
The Hellhound nodded grimly. "It would take the collective power of the entire Wild Hunt, as well as every ounce of power you've gained from the Nemeton, but yes, it's possible." As if sensing his hesitance, Jordan walked up to him and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. "It's your call, Commander, but please remember what happened the last time when the werewolves' existence became public knowledge. Magic or not, we didn't stand a chance. So the question is: will you let me do what needs to be done in order to win this war?"
He bit his lip, torn. He remembered all the deaths he had suffered in his first life, every single blow dealt to his body, heart and soul, each severed packbond. But it wasn't just his personal tragedy that made it so devastating; the near-extinction of the werewolves had also hurt the Earth itself. That's why the universe had allowed him to travel back in time, because he sure as hell wasn't the first or last person who suffered a great loss.
The bottom line was this: he'd been given the responsibility to protect the supernatural world in return for having this second chance at life, so he needed to do exactly that, no matter the cost. And yet... he wondered how many dictators, megalomaniacs and false messiahs had been convinced of exactly the same thing before commiting unforgivable acts in the name of their cause.
Chapter Text
Scott excused himself and went deeper into the woods, trying to gather his thoughts. Having the say over what happens to more than three hundred millions of Americans was daunting, yet at the same time a small part of him felt an exhilarated shiver at the mere thought. He didn't want to give in to the temptation, yet it was there, lurking just beneath the surface and waiting for his morals to weaken… Could a man have such power and still keep his good intentions? He wasn't sure if he could.
He didn't know how long he'd been wandering aimlessly, before he was approached by Deucalion.
"Talk to me, love. What's on your mind?"
"Having that much power… it frightens me," he confessed, hugging himself in a poor attempt at comfort. Seeing this, Deucalion came closer and rubbed his arms.
"But it's the Hellhound who has the means to do it. Not to mention, it was his idea in the first place…"
He shook his head. "He's a soldier, my soldier, and through him what the Wild Hunt does is my responsibility. Cerberus won't do anything without my green light, and while all of this seems rational, and justified, there must be plenty of people who are friendly towards werewolves, and who don't deserve having their memory wiped."
"Then we'll figure out a way to exclude them," Deucalion said with conviction. "Scott, just when I thought that I've lost you, you've returned to me... There's always a way. We just need to keep looking."
He smiled softly. "Are you a believer, now?"
"Maybe I am. Maybe we all need to start to believe that keeping peace and acting with integrity aren't mutually exclusive."
This was the man of vision that Derek had once spoken about, when referring to Deucalion from the past - before violence and betrayal, before Gerard Argent and later his own Beta took what was still left of Deucalion's good faith. This was the man who was worthy of every ounce of love and respect Scott felt for him.
"Alright," he exhaled slowly. "Let's gather everyone, the entire pack, and figure out how to do this the right way."
***
The pack's reactions to Cerberus' proposal were varied, though the most colorful were, of course, Stiles' words.
"That's fucking biblical!"
Melissa made a face. "Stiles, language."
"While I'm usually not one to excuse a crude language, Stiles might have a point," Deaton said cryptically, then seeing everyone's blank faces, he explained: "Cerberus' plan seems similar in magnitude to the plagues of Egypt. Which gives me an idea… Remember the last plague, in which the Lord decreed the death of all firstborn children of Egypt, with the exception of households where there was a mark made in lamb's blood above the door. Can the Wild Hunt do something similar, avoid people or places with a specific symbol?"
Cerberus nodded slowly. "But it can't be something random, it needs to be a mark of power for them to be able to sense it."
"Will my pack's symbol be enough?" Scott pointed at the tattoo on his arm.
The Hellhound brushed it with his fingertips, and his eyes started to glow with a fiery light, as if sensing the fire which had been used to make it. "It is powerful, and has a deep meaning… Yes, it should suffice."
"Let's do it, then."
***
They didn't have much time - the FBI agents couldn't be entrapped in the forest forever, sooner rather than later someone was going to realize that they'd gone off the grid for unknown reasons and come looking for them. That's why Scott recorded a message and then sent it to all of their contacts from other packs, including the ones they'd saved from the black site, but also other packs that Derek or Deucalion had a contact to.
"My name is Scott McCall and I'm the Alpha of the Beacon Hills packs in California. Recently, among other werewolves, I was abducted by federal agents working in league with the hunters. This wasn't an isolated case, and it's only the beginning of the prosecution of all supernatural creatures, especially since the recent bill stripped us of any human rights. But what the government didn't take into account is that we're not defenseless, and we are planning to retaliate, though not in a way many of you probably expect.
Tomorrow the memories of all Americans will be completely wiped of all the knowledge about the supernatural world. I do realize that some humans might be your friends or family, though. That's why I'm contacting you, asking you to consider which humans are reliable and can be trusted with keeping their memories. Those people need to hide in places with my pack's symbol painted on the door - an infinity symbol within a circle," he twisted his arm for a better angle and showed the tattoo to the camera. "Everyone else will have their minds wiped, so choose wisely who to trust. You have time until tomorrow before sundown. Until then, stay safe, and spread the word among other packs if you can."
***
When the recording was done and sent into the world, the only task that remained was to inform the humans that he trusted about the measures they needed to take to avoid falling prey to the Wild Hunt. Thankfully, Chris already had his pack's symbol tattooed on his arm, but everyone else did not. And while most of them had been present for the pack meeting, people like his dad or the Sheriff still needed to be informed.
"Stiles, paint the pack symbol on your door and tell your dad that it's to keep you both safe, okay?"
"Will do," the teen nodded energetically, happy to have a task to complete, before he frowned. "What about Lydia, though? Is the Wild Hunt's chanting or wand waving - or whatever they're actually planning to do - going to affect people in coma?"
"Wait, what? Lydia is in a coma?" He asked, unpleasantly surprised. What else had he missed during his absence?...
"Yeah, from the day you disappeared. We thought it was because she saw your death in a vision and it traumatized her, but if all that time you were still alive, why would she fall unconscious…?" They took one look at each other and then they rushed to Stiles' Jeep.
At the hospital, they were told by a nurse that Lydia had recently woken up.
"We just informed her father, so how did you two learn about it?" She squinted at them suspiciously.
"We want to see her," Stiles demanded, ignoring the question.
"She should be back soon from the MRI, but no visitors are allowed until the doctor-" the nurse's explanation was cut short by Lydia herself, who was marching down the corridor still in the hospital gown, and yet looking as if she owned the place - and sounding like it, too, as she berated the doctor trotting after her with a lost look on his face.
"I've spent weeks lying in that godforsaken bed, so I'm not going to be put in a horizontal position out of my own volition anytime soon. So unless you want to drug me unconscious and then explain to my father why despite having woken from a coma I'm still dead to the world, stay out of my way."
"You're a minor, so you can't leave until your father discharges you-"
She stopped in her tracks and twirled around. "So I need to remain in the hospital until that happens, is that correct?"
"Yes, that's right," the doctor nodded.
"Fine, so I won't leave the building, but I'm not going to be put to bed again. Now run along, I have things to do, people to contact-" She finally saw them standing by the reception desk, and nodded with satisfaction. "Oh, you two are here, good. Come with me, we have much to discuss."
Seeing that the doctor hesitated, Scott gave him his best reassuring smile. "We promise to bring her back in one piece, we're just going to the cafeteria."
The man relented with a sigh. "Fine, but no solid food for her just yet, is that clear?"
"Roger that," Stiles saluted playfully, while Lydia grabbed both of them under their arms and dragged them away from the doctor and the nurse.
Scott thought that she was surprisingly strong for someone who had spent the last few weeks lying motionlessly on a bed…Weren't coma patients supposed to suffer from muscle atrophy and have problems walking, much less dragging someone by force?
"Finally," she muttered when no one followed them.
"You're awake!" Stiles blurted stupidly with a wide grin.
Scott looked at her curiously. "How are you awake? And why were you in a coma in the first place?"
"Magic, to both questions. How else do you think the Nemeton was able to preserve your memories? Besides me, she only has a tree as a way to manifest in the mortal world, and since a tree trunk doesn't contain any brain cells, she needed to use my brain as a storage place."
Oh. "Um, did you see anything… private? When you had access to my memories, I mean?"
She gave him a pitying look. "Do you really think that me having seen you fooling around with Deucalion is the most important thing now?"
He laughed at his own foolishness. "No, you're right, it isn't."
"Good. For what you have planned for tomorrow, I must be at my full strength, so lead the way to that cafeteria. I need some calories, stat."
He obeyed, thinking to himself that it didn't matter if he was a True Alpha, Royal Alpha, or even God almighty himself - standing in Lydia's way when she was on a mission was out of the question.
***
When he got back from the hospital, he went straight to the forest where Jordan had set the perimeter, making sure that no one besides the pack approached the place where the FBI agents were being held.
"Lydia is ready to channel the Nemeton's energy, if what I've absorbed earlier turns out not to be enough."
Jordan looked up at him. "That's good. We'll need all the power that we can get."
He hesitated for a second, then sat down with his back against a tree, patting his thighs invitingly. The man didn't need to be asked twice, and lay down on the grass with his head propped on Scott's legs.
"What happens afterwards? To you, I mean?" He asked, burying his fingers in the Hellhound's soft hair. He wondered if this is the last chance he'll ever get to pet it like that.
"I can't say for sure, but there's a probability that I'll- That I'll be gone." When Scott stiffened, Cerberus' eyes flashed reassuringly. "I'm immortal, so I can't die, but if I don't have any power left to maintain the possession, or rather the symbiosis between the Hellhound and the human part of me, I'll be thrown from my body- I mean, Jordan's body… Damn, this is hard. We've been one entity for so long that it's hard to tell where each part of us starts and where it ends."
His mouth was completely dry as he rasped: "So, you'll be forced apart? For how long?"
"Permanently, I'm afraid. Regaining my powers might take a long time; years, if not decades. But maybe that's for the best, Commander. I am sworn to be a part of the Wild Hunt for an eternity, but Jordan will be free to live his life… Please take care of me- of him, when it happens."
He swallowed with difficulty. "I will, I promise."
"Thank you, Master," there was a genuine gratefulness in the Hellhound's voice, and he had to blink away the tears that gathered in the corners of his eyes.
"No, thank you - both of you. I wouldn't have made it this far without you."
He continued to caress his Hellhound's hair with slow, soothing motions, trying to preserve this moment in his memory, so that it would stay with him for the years to come.
Chapter 212
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
It began at nightfall.
A severe, gusty wind started to blow with unconstrained fury, while churning storm clouds covered the skies within minutes. Since weather forecasts hadn't predicted such drastic weather conditions, people were taken aback, and scrambled to secure objects that could be blown away. In the morning, they would go outside and search for all the stuff they'd missed and find them scattered in the surrounding area: broken umbrellas, misplaced garden tools, toys covered in mud and leaves, or laundry that had been left to dry and forgotten. But by morning, none of this would matter.
Even days and weeks later, scientists and doctors all around the country would scratch their heads in confusion, trying and failing to find a rational explanation to what the media hailed aptly but dramatically as 'the Great Forgetting', even though it had affected a few hundreds of people, overall. Was it a small or big number? Looking at the entire population, it was a really small percentage, but statistics aside, it meant a few hundreds of people whose span of missing memories ranged from a few blips here and there to entire years of having their memory wiped out.
Equally as baffling to the public and to the scientists was why it had affected some people and not others. There wasn't any logical pattern - or at least, no one was able to figure it out, besides the fact that this strange affliction hadn't targeted almost any children. While a relief, this fact didn't exactly help doctors to find the root cause behind the mass amnesia. Without knowing what to look for, they were forced to guess blindly and look for genetic or physiological similarities between the victims while there weren't any. For the supernatural community's sake, Scott hoped that humans would keep looking in that direction, rather than ask themselves what it is that the affected people had forgotten in the first place.
***
As Victoria watched CNN - one of the few American channels available in Japan - she took in the news with a feeling of foreboding, and immediately started to pack.
"I need to go back home," she explained once Rafael asked her what she was doing. They'd managed to gain enough intel on that human trafficking ring, including the locations where the victims were being held, so in her books they'd already done their job, and more. "Listen, we've done our part, let the authorities handle the rest. But this mass amnesia… Who knows if my family's gonna start forgetting things, too?" When she saw that Rafael stiffened and looked away, she immediately became suspicious. "You know something. What is it?"
"Your family is safe, and so is mine."
She shook her head, not understanding why he was acting so calm when the entire country was panicking. "How can you be so sure?"
"I know what this 'Great Forgetting' is about, and I swear to you, everyone close to Scott is completely safe. So are you." He squeezed her shoulder, but she shook off his hand. She didn't need to be comforted, she needed to know what this was all about.
"So it's linked to werewolves? But, how? Why?"
"I can't tell you how, but as for the whys- They took my son, Victoria. My own agency, working together with your lot, they kidnapped my kid, experimented on him, and were ready to kill him… Making people forget about the werewolves' existence was the least aggressive reaction, in my opinion."
She stared at him for a few long moments. When they had still been under the impression that Scott was dead, it had hit Rafael hard, but he'd been able to hide it most of the time. After spending a few days with him in their hotel suite in Japan, she could say that he was hurting deeply, and him throwing himself into work the way he had was his method of trying to forget it, if only for a time. When they'd learned that Scott was alive, after all… It was as if a great weight had been taken off his shoulders, but at the same time, it undermined Raf's loyalty to the very agency that he was working for.
But this mass amnesia- it was huge. How on earth was the McCall pack able to pull off targeting hundreds of people and successfully wipe their memories within the span of a single night? She felt a cold shiver run down her spine as she realized that once she gets back to the US, she might learn that she's a matriarch of nothing and no one, with all her hunters now being complete amnesiacs.
So where did that leave her? She couldn't suddenly start calling her acquaintances to ask them if they're still aware that werewolves are real. Firstly, if they didn't remember, it would only make her look crazy, and secondly, if she'd been spared for whatever reason from having her memories wiped, she couldn't risk sabotaging whatever good will Scott McCall harbored towards her and angering him to the point that he changed his mind about her. But she wasn't going to live her life tiptoeing around any werewolf, much less someone who's half her age.
"I need to talk to Scott," she said decisively, her stern look directed at Rafael brooking no argument, and yet he still attempted it.
"No, I can't call him-"
"I have questions that need answers, Raf, and so help me God, I'm gonna get them, with or without your help."
He rubbed his mouth with his palm and sighed. "I only meant that phone calls aren't safe, now that the whole country is in an uproar. So if you're going back, give me a few hours, I'll wrap up things here and go with you. I want to see my son, too, especially after everything that happened."
She pressed her lips together for a moment, impatient to go home, before she nodded shortly with acquiescence.
***
When Jordan woke up groggily, he needed to blink a few times as bright summer light assaulted his eyes without mercy. It took him a few moments to register the fact that he was lying naked on the ground, with something hard digging into his side - a rock or a tree root, probably - and pressing on his kidney. His throat was parched so much that if he attempted to speak he was pretty sure it would come out as a croak, and he needed to piss. Badly.
He sat up slowly, propping himself on his elbows, then stood up tentatively, not entirely trusting his shaking legs to hold his weight. They did, though, so at least he could relieve the pressure on his bladder while standing like a man, and not kneeling or squatting like a dog.
Afterwards, he looked around, not recognizing the place he was, his memory strangely blurry. What the hell had happened, had he been partying too much the night before, or had he got mugged and left naked in the forest? He tried to force his mind to give him some kind of a clue - something, anything - but it was like his mind was wrapped in wool, and he was in no state to even start unwrapping it.
It was a good thing that he at least remembered who he was… Or did he? He could recall being in Afghanistan, but every memory afterwards was hazy and lacking in details. He remembered the urge to go to Beacon Hills, though for the life of him he couldn't say why. He didn't have any friend or relative here - hell, before being deployed he wasn't even aware that this town even existed. So what was he even doing here, besides being employed as a Sheriff's deputy?
Well, there was no point in dwelling on that, as he was unlikely to get any answers just standing here naked like some lunatic. Conscious that his lack of clothing wasn't going to inspire people's trust and confidence in his mental state, he grabbed the largest piece of loose tree bark that he could find and shielded his groin with it, then started walking towards the town. He only hoped that he wasn't going to meet any families or kids on his way there, as he wouldn't want to add charges of lewd acts and indecent exposure to his current list of problems.
The first person that he met at the edge of the forest was an elderly woman, who almost dropped her bag at the sight of him.
"Easy, I won't hurt you or anyone else, I just woke up in the forest without any memories of how I got there," he explained, trying to sound as earnest and sane as humanly possible.
"So, you' one of them?" Seeing his lack of understanding, she added: "The amnesiacs, I mean. Since yesterday, the news has been all about people suddenly forgetting stuff for no reason."
"Yeah, that sounds just about right. Can you please call the police and ask Sheriff Stilinski to come get me?"
"Let me get home and I'll call 'em. But this whole amnesia thing? Sounds like a communists' job, if you ask me. Those damn Russians, always stirring up trouble…" She turned around and kept muttering under her breath as she walked slowly towards a house.
When nothing happened for a few minutes, he started to wonder if maybe she forgot about him on her way there. He was sorely tempted to try to find someone else to help him, when a police car appeared on the far end of the street, and he exhaled with relief.
The cavalry has arrived.
***
Later, once he was taken to the station and given a spare uniform to wear, he wondered what this mass memory loss that the elderly woman had mentioned to him earlier was all about, and asked the Sheriff about it.
"I'm pretty sure that you know more about it than I do," Noah muttered under his breath, giving him a conspiratorial look.
"Sorry, Sheriff, but I really don't. And I have no idea why you'd even think that I know something about it."
"That's… not good," Noah frowned. "I'll call Scott and ask him to come get you."
The name didn't sound familiar, so he asked: "Who's Scott? Someone I know?"
"Yeah, you can put it that way. He's your Alpha - does it ring any bells?"
He shook his head, feeling even more out of his depth than before. "No, nothing."
"Damn. I definitely need to call Scott then, right away."
"Is he- important to me?"
"From what I've learned about you so far, he's the most important person in your life."
It sounded so… definite, like a foregone conclusion, as if this Scott person somehow defined who he was, and it made him unsettled. He'd never been good at maintaining relationships, no matter if they were familial or romantic, or simply friendships. His problems with connecting with people had been the main reason why he'd decided to join the Army in the first place, and he couldn't wrap his head around the fact that apparently he'd changed so much in the past few weeks that it wasn't an issue anymore.
"Contact him, then," he said slowly, trying to acquaint himself with the fact that it weren't just dates and events that he forgot, but also people, and what they meant to him. "I need to know which parts of my life that I'm missing."
Notes:
In case you're wondering, Jordan's amnesia is just a temporary fix that his mind applied around the hole in his mind where Cerberus' presence used to be. Very soon, the band aid will be off, and it's not going to be a pretty sight... 😔
Chapter Text
What makes us the people that we are: is it the memories, or the instincts? Or something else altogether? Jordan asked himself, his stomach feeling as if it was tangled into a knot as he was watching a sixteen, maybe seventeen year old boy walking up to him in quick strides.
"Jordan!" The teen called out. "Gods, we were so worried-"
The knot on his stomach tightened and he felt weak in the knees, like he hadn't felt even in Afghanistan, with bullets flying above his head as he crouched near an anti-personnel bomb, trying to disarm it. His hands were uncomfortably clammy, so he tightened them into fists, as if he could squeeze the weakness out of himself that way. And all of this at the sight of some teenager, of all people!
"Don't come any closer," he warned in a strangled voice when it looked like the boy might hug him.
"Sheriff told me that you lost some of your memories, but I promise you that we'll get through this, together."
He bristled a little at the pitying tone. "I'm more than capable of getting through everything life throws at me on my own," just like he'd always had, he didn't add. "Now, my memories. What am I missing? Why are you supposedly the most important person in my life?"
It didn't make any sense, and yet- There was something about this teen that caused the hair on his arms and the back of his neck to stand, as if he was standing close to a power line. Who was this kid, to be able to cause such an intense, instinctual reaction out of him, when he had no memory to explain it?
The boy bit his lower lip. "It's not that easy to explain without knowing what you remember about- well, everything."
"Are you going to quiz me on world history, or what?" He wrinkled his nose in distaste.
"Not exactly, but… close enough. Does the word 'supernatural' mean anything to you?" The teen's eyes were watching him carefully, like it was some sort of a test, and Jordan let out a short, impatient snort as he threw his hands up.
"You know what? We're done here. I'm gonna figure this out on my own-"
"Jordan…" hearing his own name uttered with such a wealth of emotions stopped him in his tracks. "We've fought a war together, then you died for me, and when we went back to where it all started, you sacrificed yourself for me - again. This is what you're missing, and what you won't find anywhere else."
It was like the boy pressed the wrong button and without conscious thought Jordan found himself grabbing the kid's shirt and snarling into his face: "You. Know. NOTHING! About me, about war- You're just a goddamn kid who has no fucking idea what he's talking about!"
"I'm older than I look, and I do know. We've buried friends, together. And we've been running for our lives - for years on end - together! When I talked to you last, I promised that I'll take care of you, so I'm gonna make good on my word, no matter what."
Jordan stared at the teen for a long moment, then shook his head. "This is crazy. You're crazy – and I'm outta here. Don't follow me."
He turned around and left, heart beating furiously in his chest.
***
Scott watched Jordan's retreating back, torn between honoring the man's current wish to be left alone, and the promise that he'd made to Jordan/Cerberus when they were still one person to take care of them. Before he managed to make up his mind, though, the moment to make the decision had passed and he realized that by inaction he'd essentially let Parrish go.
He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. He had a nagging feeling that the more pressure he'd put on the ex-Hellhound, the more resistance he was gonna meet. Jordan was nothing but stubborn, which meant that Scott had to be patient with him, no matter how much it went against his every instinct to leave his no doubt confused packmate to his own devices.
Give him time, he tried to convince himself. If Jordan doesn't want to be helped, trying to force the issue will only make things worse.
But even if it all sounded logical and rational and wise, his heart was still aching something awful.
***
Later, when Jordan asked the Sheriff if he knew where he was staying, he learned that he was living in the same apartment building as Scott bloody McCall, and he suppressed a curse. Did he get tangled in some sort of a cult? It didn't sound like him at all, as he'd never been particularly religious, but then again, nothing about his life made sense anymore.
What made it even worse is that he didn't have his ID, drivers license or credit card on him. Thankfully, working in the police had its perks and he quickly got the paperwork done about losing an ID, and he asked around in the administration which bank his wage was getting paid into. It turned out that he had a bank account in JP Morgan Chase, so he went to the nearest branch and took out some cash. Finally, he rented a room in a hotel and when he got inside, he closed the door behind him, then flopped bonelessly on the bed, totally exhausted.
He knew that he needed to go and buy himself some toiletries and a change of clothes, but he didn't have any energy left to spend. He only managed to take off the boots that he borrowed from the station, as they were the tiniest bit too small to be comfortable, then he kept lying on the bed, looking at the ceiling unseeingly, his thoughts scattered in total disarray.
He didn't even catch the moment when he fell asleep.
***
To become is like crossing the line between being asleep and being awake; you never know exactly when it happens. And you think if you could only recall that exact moment of crossing the line, then you would understand – everything.
You would see it all.
Most people never manage to pinpoint that switch between consciousness and subconsciousness, between knowledge realized and knowledge buried deep inside – but there are few who manage it. Some do it on purpose, training their minds to be able to tap into that moment of transition. Some manage to stumble into it by an accident, and are left shaken by the experience. Some - those with an innate affinity with the Void - might find an enlightenment there that could not to be found anywhere else in the physical world… even though the knowledge they find there is not always pleasant or comforting.
***
Jordan woke up with a gasp. His entire body - brow, back, armpits, even his thighs - was covered in cold sweat which made him shiver uncontrollably. He felt alien in this body, as if it was an ill-fitted, second-hand piece of clothing. But it was exactly the opposite, wasn't it? He vaguely remembered it, but he was sure that for a prolonged period of time his body had been used by somebody - or something - else.
He felt nauseous at the mere thought, so he ran blindly to the bathroom, hitting his shin hard against the furniture. He would've cursed if his mouth wasn't full of bile, and he vomited violently the moment he dropped to his knees, his hands gripping the toilet seat so tightly his knuckles turned white. Once his stomach was empty and he had nothing else to throw up with, he stared at the mess that he'd made, which was exactly as disgusting as he felt about himself.
His body had been used. He had been used. How was he supposed to live with that?...
Pressing his fevered forehead to the cold tiles on the bathroom wall, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, trying to get a grip on himself. Slowly, carefully, he pulled himself to an upward position, catching the sight of his face in the impersonal rectangular mirror hanging crookedly above the sink. Even his own face seemed alien to him, drawn and grayish, with glazed eyes and dark bags underneath them.
Will he ever again feel at home in his own skin, he wondered, knowing that it wasn't truly his, not anymore?
Get your shit together, he told himself firmly, irritated by his own weakness. You’re a soldier, you’re supposed to be stronger than this. So what if your body had been used by some kind of a– creature? You’re alive, and you’re back in control, that’s all that matters.
But the question remained: how permanent was it? Was he fully in control of his body now, or was it only temporary? Could he fall victim to possession, again?
He shuddered at the mere thought, then clenched his jaw stubbornly. He’d rather die than let it happen to him again.
Chapter Text
Once Victoria learned what had happened while she was in Japan, she was stunned speechless for a few long moments. Kate getting in cahoots with the feds and imprisoning werewolves country-wide with the government's help was a scenario she wouldn't have guessed, ever. The secrecy was the very basis of the hunters' operating model, and for them to be revealed so blatantly and openly to the people in power… She was secretly glad that the McCall pack had solved that problem already, even though she would never admit it out loud.
However, while the majority of the population remained oblivious to the true reasons behind the Great Forgetting, the hunter clans on other continents quickly realized that it was their US counterparts who had been targeted, and their reactions varied between panic, disbelief and anger. Victoria was doing what she could to do some damage control and convince the other matriarchs that they needed to look at the bigger picture here, and that the mass amnesia served to protect hunters as much as werewolves.
“The supernatural world was never meant to be revealed to the government,” she argued, watching the other matriarchs' faces on the laptop screen and gauging their reactions. “By breaking the secrecy, my sister-in-law went against everything we stand for.”
“And what do you think that is?” inquired Yeon-Min, the South Korean's matriarch’s eyes drilling into Victoria even via the small window of her camera.
“That we protect people by operating in the shadows, so that they’re not aware either of ours, or the werewolves’ existence. If the supernatural world was fully revealed to the masses, it would also put a stop to our work. Governments do not look kindly on those they consider vigilants.”
The matriarchs fell silent for a moment, digesting her words.
"Still, for werewolves to achieve such a precise, targeted, country-wide memory wipe in barely one night… It's highly worrying." Brigitte frowned. "Victoria, do you know who's behind it?"
"I do."
"It's that young Alpha, Scott McCall, isn't it?" Araya asked, then smiled with satisfaction at seeing Victoria's reluctant nod. "Sisters, I've met the Alpha in question, and I can tell you that his main goal is to avoid a conflict, not exacerbate it. Even if the methods he used are highly worrisome, you must admit that they were quite effective in achieving that objective, as not a single blood drop has been spilled."
Her words were met with a chorus of questions and objections: "But who's to say that Europe or Asia won't be the next targets?" "We can't just do nothing!" "We need to prepare ourselves in case we're next…"
Araya raised her hand, silencing them. "First, you need to get your act together, clear your ranks of people who are too trigger-happy and eager to kill for the thrill of it. Make sure that every hunter sticks to the Code, like it should have been all along. I've done it within my clan a few months back, so I'm the best example that it can be done."
"And do you think that it's going to be enough to take the target off our backs?" Brigitte asked dubiously.
"Why don't we ask Scott McCall, instead of guessing?"
"But he's a werewolf!" The German matriarch protested, looking offended at the mere suggestion.
Araya tapped her fingers on the table impatiently. "Heidi, just because he's a werewolf doesn't mean that he can't be reasoned with."
"I agree with Araya on this," Brigitte said decisively. "Let's hear what he has to say about all of this, before we make any rash decisions. Besides, the more we learn about this Alpha and his agenda, the better. Victoria, can you arrange a call with him?"
She nodded. "I'll ask if he's willing to talk to us. I'll send you the invites if he agrees."
The other matriarchs didn't look happy with that course of action, but didn't actively oppose it either. They were all perfectly aware of the value of information, and that intelligence gathering was crucial to any effective decision making… even if they needed to talk to a werewolf to get it.
***
Contacting Chris and asking him if he could organize a meeting with Scott came surprisingly easily to her. The pain of their divorce has lessened to the point when she could talk with her ex-husband without much hassle, and she wondered if the fact that she was with Rafael now made any difference, or if she would've gotten to that point even without his presence in her life.
She wasn't a romantic, or had any illusions about the nature of their relationship, and yet… She could relate to Rafael in ways she couldn't to any other man. He was as pragmatic and dedicated to his job as she was, and yet was ready to sacrifice everything for his family. She respected that, because family came first to her, too. The fact that he was aware of the werewolves' existence made it even simpler, because she didn't have to hide that part of her life from him, even though he didn't exactly approve of her job. In fact, he hadn't even wanted to talk to her until she assured him that killing werewolves was the last thing on her mind - well, unless they completely lost control and went feral.
The hunters were formed for a reason, after all, and not every werewolf was as composed as the teen Alpha she was now talking with - which still baffled her, how someone so young could come to have that much power and influence, and still manage not to let it go to his head. Most grown up men she knew wouldn't be able to show that level of restraint, and she only hoped that it wasn't just a facade on Scott's side.
Once he heard about the matriarchs' proposal, the teen was silent for a moment, and Victoria could almost see cogs turning in his head.
"I guess that starting a dialogue could be beneficial for both sides, but I want to ask other Alphas if they'd like to be involved, too. I'll get back to you in a week or two, okay?"
She grimaced. "The matriarchs won't be happy about having to wait. They'll see it as stalling for time and start to worry that you're preparing another round of memory erasure in the meantime."
"I'm not, but this is bigger than just my pack," he pointed out. "It's the first real opportunity to establish some form of communication between hunters and werewolves. We need to do this right, so that no one feels slighted or excluded."
She considered his words for a moment, then nodded slowly. "That makes sense. I'll let the matriarchs know." She hesitated for a second, then added: "You're not going to tell me how you managed to wipe all those people's memories, are you?"
"Sorry, but no. As much as I'd like to think that you're a changed person and that you're not going to start killing werewolves on a whim, you're not a part of my pack."
"Nor would I want to be, but that's fair enough, I guess. Just look me in the eye and tell me that you're not planning a repeat," she demanded, watching his reaction closely.
He met her eyes without hesitation. "I really don't. It was a last resort, and I hope that we won't be forced to use that method ever again, as it didn't come without a price on our side either."
She sensed a genuine sadness in him, and it wasn't just a matter of the tone of his voice; his shoulders dropped, and his eyes darkened as if they were reliving a painful memory. Even though it went against everything that she'd been taught - that she should never trust a werewolf - she found herself believing him.
***
When Victoria left, Scott looked at Chris, who had remained silent during the entire conversation.
"When are we going to acknowledge the elephant in the room, Chris? You haven't been yourself lately, and I suspect that it's got to do with Peter's disappearance. Can you tell me what happened?" The man shook his head and looked away, his whole body tensing, so Scott poked his side lightly. "How about we go to the lake? It's been ages since we've been there last."
Chris' eyes were wistful as he murmured: "You're right, it's been too long," then he went to grab his car keys.
Soon enough they were sitting on the same bench where a few months ago Chris had taken a bullet for him. A little overwhelmed by the reminder, Scott pressed his hand to the man's torso, rubbing it gently. It had always come easier to him to repair physical damage than to heal mental and emotional wounds - but for Chris' sake, he needed to try.
"I won't force you to talk about it if you don't want to," he said quietly, "but I'm here for you, if you need me."
Chris didn't reply, but gradually his body relaxed and they kept sitting in silence that felt more comfortable now, rather than suffocating. And when the man finally started talking, it was like a dam opened and every hurt, angry and ugly thought poured out of him without any filter.
"When we were convinced that you were dead, Peter changed so much that I no longer recognized the man that he became. He was so… controlling, aggressive and power-hungry, his actions basically divided the entire pack, and then- he just left. He disappeared without a single word of apology or explanation, abandoning us without care, and I can't- I can't help but wonder if we really meant so little to him that he didn't even bother to say goodbye…"
Scott's heart clenched and he took Chris' hand in his, squeezing it tightly. "When I was his Alpha, I could feel his love for you and my mom. This wasn't a ruse or a lie, I refuse to believe that."
"So why leave?" Chris asked hoarsely, his voice breaking. "Why break our hearts so thoroughly that Melissa had been crying herself to sleep for days on end…"
"I don't know, but I intend to find out," he said firmly. "If Peter's still out there, I'll find him, and I'll bring him home."
Chris wiped a few stray tears out of the corners of his eyes. "I miss him so damn much it hurts, but I'm not sure if we can go back to the way we were."
"That's between the three of you, I won't ever interfere with your relationship. But when you got together, you made me a promise that no matter what happens romantically between you, you'll always remain packmates and friends. So whatever Peter did or why, he's still a part of the pack, and I refuse to give up on him."
Chris exhaled slowly, then gave him a slight nod. It wasn't much, but it was a first step towards healing, so Scott decided to take the win.
Chapter 215
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
After Scott packed some essentials - power charger, a change of clothes and such - into a duffel bag, he went on a round from the top to the bottom of the building, to say a quick goodbye and to delegate some tasks for the meantime.
First, he asked Derek to get in contact with other packs and invite them into a call a few days from now; werewolves only, as they needed to discuss their joint approach first so that they would be ready to present a united front when talking with the hunters.
"I don't think that a call alone will do the trick," Derek folded his arms across his chest. "They're werewolves, in order to trust someone they'll need to be able to use all of their senses, their ears and noses, to better judge if the other person is genuine."
"You've got a point…" Scott paced around, thinking quickly. "Alright, anyone who wants to visit Beacon Hills is welcome to do so, how does that sound?"
"Much better. I'll take care of it."
"I have no doubts that you will," Scott gave him a warm smile.
But even though Derek accepted his new responsibilities with a calm confidence that filled Scott with pride, Chris and Melissa, on the other hand, weren't too happy with his decision that they should stay and keep an eye on the kids.
"We want to go with you," his mom protested.
"I'll be with Deucalion, so don't worry, I'll be fine. Besides, can you honestly say that you have the right mindset to convince Peter to come back home?" as she hesitated, he nodded knowingly. "That's what I thought. I'm not judging you, by the way, but since we don't know what caused Peter to leave to begin with, putting any kind of unnecessary pressure or blame on him might sabotage our goal to get him back."
"We should've looked for him earlier…" Chris muttered under his breath, his scent tainted with worry and guilt. "Braeden's investigation didn't show any signs of him getting hurt, but what if she missed something? What if Peter needed our help and we failed him-"
Scott gripped his arms and squeezed. "Chris, look at me. I was presumed dead at the time, and you two had a group of grieving teenagers to look after, so no one can blame you for prioritizing the entire pack above a single werewolf - and neither should you blame yourself. What matters now is that I'm going to do everything that I can to find Peter, so please hold the fort for a little while longer in my absence, okay?"
"We will," Chris nodded grimly.
"Thank you." He hugged them both, then went downstairs, continuing saying goodbye to everyone on his way out.
In the parking lot, Deucalion was already waiting for him in the car, and seeing him exiting the building, turned on the ignition.
"You really don't mind coming with me?" Scott asked while buckling up. "I know that Peter's not your packmate-"
"But he's yours, so it's a reason enough for me. Besides, letting you to do this alone is not an option, not after I just got you back," Deucalion murmured, gripping the wheel a little too hard, his shoulders tense. The last few months must have been hell for him, so Scott wasn't going to hold it against him if he was being a little possessive and overprotective.
He would've acted the same, if their positions were reversed.
***
Surviving the heat of the desert was no mean feat for the wolf. It wasn't used to such arid conditions, and the first few days had been the worst. With time, it had learned to hide in shaded areas, caves and thick bushes, and if no natural shelter was available, it would dig a hole in the sand to hide in and wait the worst of the heat out.
Finding food wasn't easy, either, so the wolf settled for reptiles, rodents, or even larger insects, as long as they kept the hunger at bay. It had lost a lot of weight, but what remained was pure muscles and bones, no excess fat which in the desert was more of a hindrance than help, anyway.
If it was a lonely existence, the wolf wouldn't know. It didn't think in these categories, not anymore - though it sometimes howled at night, calling for his pack. When his howls went answered, they turned to whimpers, and then to silence. It wasn't ideal, but the wolf adapted, and lived on.
The desert was its territory, and it was checking regularly if nothing and no one encroached on it uninvited. Once it sensed a scent left by a female human the day before, but since the wolf hunted only at nights, the woman was already gone by the time he got there.
It wasn't easy for the wolf to track the time - it was lost on him in the neverending circle of hunting and sleeping - but one evening it caught a scent that caused its hackles to rise. The smell was strange, both foreign and familiar, human- and wolf-like at the same time. The wolf's mind wasn't used to such a juxtaposition and was ill-equipped to process it properly. The resulting confusion quickly turned into aggression, and so the wolf took up speed, chasing the source of the scent.
When it caught up with the young human that somehow smelled like a wolf, it lunged at the boy, the impact of the hit causing the both of them to tumble to the ground. The wolf snapped his jaws left and right, biting every piece of soft flesh that it could reach, before the human somehow managed to switch their positions, trapping the wolf underneath. It growled furiously, but then its muzzle was pushed hard into the sand, while the skin on the back of its neck was pierced by sharp fangs-
-and the wolf went still, its subconsciousness finally recognizing its Alpha.
***
Scott ignored the pain from the bite wounds on his arms and chests as he pinned Peter's animal form to the ground. Biting it on the neck was instinctual; it showed dominance and ownership amongst the canines, and he hoped that this would finally allow him to get to Peter, whose human mind seemed to be buried unusually deep.
When the wolf stilled underneath him, he gentled the bruising grip on its muzzle, and when no aggressive reaction followed, released it altogether. In response, the wolf rolled onto its back with a whimper. Slowly but steadily, Scott put a hand on its belly and scratched the skin with his now human nails, making an extra effort to keep it gentle and unthreatening.
In the corner of his eye he saw Deucalion running towards them, but he signaled to the man not to come any closer, not wanting to trigger Peter in any way.
"That's a good boy, you're doing really great," he murmured to the wolf, all the while continuing the belly rub, then reaching up to scratch the wolf behind its ears.
When their eyes met, Peter's eyes flashed with a brilliant red light. Then, its body morphed into that of a human, though it was so thin that Scott could actually count all of his ribs.
"S-Scott? Am I dead?"
"No, you're very much alive, and so am I. I've been so worried-" He didn't finish the sentence, as Peter's body started to shake. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?"
The man shook his head, even though tears trickled down his cheeks and he curled into a tight ball, as if he wanted to bury himself in the sand. Scott had never, ever seen him in such a state, and he pulled the trembling shell of a man into his lap. It was terrifying how much weight Peter had lost; the man was lighter than Liam, now.
"Hey, I'm here now," he whispered in his ear.
“You don’t get it, do you? Thinking that you died crushed me," Peter rasped out and wiggled out of his hold, then stood up on unsteady legs. "You were my anchor, and without you I just couldn't– Everything that was good in me, it came from you. When our link shattered, all that was left was… pain, and hatred."
Scott swallowed with difficulty, then got up to his feet as well. "I can't tell you how sorry I am that my disappearance caused you so much pain, but please, please come back home."
“Go. Away,” the man demanded sharply, and Scott hesitated. “I said, go away! I’m not coming back, not after what I’ve done! I’ve made so many mistakes–”
“Listen to me,” he set his jaw stubbornly, “I don’t care what you did or didn’t do, or how many mistakes you’ve made. You’re mine, Peter. Mine to care for, mine to protect. And I won’t let you waste away on some godforsaken desert because of the pain that I’ve caused you. Hate me, if you must, but come home with me.”
Peter’s whole body crumpled in on itself as the man fell to his knees, hiding his face in his hands. “I don’t hate you, I hate myself,” he whispered brokenly.
“Oh, Peter…” Scott dropped to his knees beside his packmate (because Peter would always be his packmate, bond or no bond) and curled an arm around his hunched shoulders. “Please believe me when I say that my love for you is stronger than your self-hatred could ever be. Just give me a chance to prove that to you.”
Peter let out a snort, though his voice, muffled from all the crying, quite ruined the effect. “That’s the cheesiest thing you’ve ever said, you know that, right?”
Scott smiled, relieved that Peter’s sarcastic side was back. “I know, but it doesn’t make it any less true. Now let’s go, Deucalion won't be waiting for us forever. I absolutely adore the man, but even I have to admit that patience isn’t his strongest suit.”
The quiet bark of a laugh that he received in response made his smile even wider.
Notes:
In case you're wondering why Deucalion went with Scott on this trip rather than Derek, there are a few reasons:
- Derek is a better choice for a liaison with other packs, as he doesn't have Deucalion's bad reputation,
- after Derek's conflict with Peter, Scott didn't know how Peter would react to his presence. Same with Chris and Melissa, who are still torn between feeling hurt and worrying about Peter's whereabouts.I hope that you're happy that Peter's coming home!! I know that I am 🥰
Chapter 216
Notes:
Hey guys, one of my readers wrote a fic inspired by Nothing to Fear, which is awesome! I'm really excited to see how the story will unfold (it's a work in progress).
If you think like me that time travel stories with Scott as the main character is exactly what this fandom needs, you might want to check it out!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Waiting felt like a torture for Chris; he was a man of action and simply sitting and waiting for something to happen went against his every instinct. His pacing back and forth could probably be heard by the entire pack, and soon three young heads peered inside the bedroom.
"Still nothing?" Brett asked nonchalantly, probably trying to make an impression as if he didn't care one way or another, but Chris knew for a fact that it couldn't be farther from the truth.
"Last time I heard from Scott, they reached what used to be Corinne's hideout, and were planning to fan out to cover the bigger part of the desert that way." His words did nothing to reassure the kids, and his heart broke a little when he saw the way Malia's mouth corners turned down at the mention of her mother that she had never got to know. He opened his arms invitingly. "Come here, all of you."
Hugging teenagers who were almost as tall as he wasn't the easier endeavor, and his arms couldn't embrace all three of them equally without anyone feeling left out, so eventually they ended up on the bed. Brett and Malia snuggled to his left and right, respectively, while Lori draped herself across his stomach, being the lighter of them all. He still let out a muffled 'oomph' when her elbow jabbed into his side; she muttered an embarrassed apology, which he shrugged off and ran his hands up and down her back to show that he wasn't angry at her.
During the last few months, only cuddles such as these had been keeping everyone sane and in relatively good spirits, considering the circumstances: with Scott being missed-presumed-dead, and Peter's subsequent disappearance. Sometimes, Allison and Isaac joined them, and Melissa too, but they didn't need cuddles nearly as often as the werewolves, or (in Malia's case) the werecoyote in their pack. Chris himself had never been as tactile, but for the kids' benefit he'd quickly taught himself to be, not wanting them to feel like they were missing something in their lives just because both their Alphas had disappeared from their lives.
And now, they were all waiting anxiously for the news, equally hoping and dreading to hear them, and they tried to alleviate their nervousness and anxiety by being as close to one another as they possibly could. It worked – to an extent, at least.
When his phone started to ring, they all jumped almost simultaneously. Before Chris could say anything, Brett was already handling him the phone, eyes bright with hope at seeing Scott's number on the display.
"Please tell me that you have good news," Chris said in lieu of a greeting, not knowing what he'd tell the kids if they weren't.
"We found Peter," Scott announced, happiness self-evident in the bright tone of his voice. "He's been in his wolf form the entire time, the poor guy... He's much too thin to be healthy, and a little overwhelmed, so I'm not handing him the phone yet, but he's going to be alright. Tell everyone that we're coming home."
The teens' happy shouts were not nearly as loud as the ringing in Chris' ears. Peter was coming home… Peter was coming home, and Chris couldn't tell if he was more ecstatic or terrified by the prospect.
"The kids already know, as I'm sure you can tell by the sudden ruckus, but I'll tell Melissa and the rest of the pack," he said wryly after a few long seconds, hoping that all the shouting around him was an excuse enough for his moment of hesitance. "Tell Peter that we're all happy and relieved that he's fine."
That was the truth, at least, and he could tell it without feeling like he was saying empty words, or even worse, lies. He really was happy that Peter was fine - he just wasn't sure if he was ready to have the man back in his life, as if the past few weeks hadn't happened at all. Because they did happen, and he couldn't just pretend otherwise.
He sighed as he realized that he really needed to talk to Melissa; they couldn't avoid having this conversation any longer.
***
"I don't know if we can be together again, not like we were before. At least not now."
Her voice was wooden, almost dispassionate, but he knew that it was only because she was keeping all her emotions in, not that she didn't feel anything at all. He gathered her in his arms and she sagged in his embrace, as if all strength suddenly left her.
Chris knew from experience that she was stronger than most, that she was a survivor – but a scarred one, especially in the relationship department. After Rafael, it hadn't been easy for her to open herself up to anyone, and to be jilted two times in a row… That mustn't have been easy for her.
"You don't need to do anything you don't feel ready to," he assured her. "I just think that we should hear him out, that's all."
She took a step back and squinted at him with a sudden intensity that made him feel as if he was being put on a piece of glass and watched under a microscope. "Do you want to be with Peter again, romantically?"
He hesitated, then rubbed his mouth with his palm, buying himself a few more seconds as he tried to put his feelings into words.
"I'm not sure, honey. I only know that I miss him more than I'm hurt or angry at him," he sighed. "I owe him so much, you know? He gave me his family name, for crying out loud. And he gave me you."
She scoffed. "He didn't give me to you, it was my decision–"
"You know what I mean. He welcomed me in your relationship when most men would tell me to fuck off or beat the crap out of me, and for that, I'll be forever grateful to him… Even though I also have the urge to wring his neck for everything he put us through."
She laughed, a weak, wounded sound that made him realize just how close to breaking down she was, and he hugged her again.
"Talk to him first, then," she mumbled into his chest, her voice muffled by his shirt, "and try to judge how likely it is that he'll break our hearts all over again."
"I will. Thank you," he murmured back, humbled by the trust she had in him, even though he wasn't so sure that he was going to be able to stay objective where Peter was concerned.
***
Standing vigil in the parking lot, watching out for Deucalion's car to appear on the far end of the street, was an experience that was both excruciating and unforgettable. Besides waiting for hours on end for Allison to be born, there was nothing else that could compare: the feeling of having his heart in his throat, palms sweaty, stomach clenching from dread and hope and exhilaration all at once.
And just as he'd seen Allison for the very first time, squirming in the bundle she'd been cocooned in, when he saw Peter getting out of the car, with pale face and hunched shoulders, he immediately felt a similar surge of love and protectiveness that overshadowed everything else. The feeling wasn't quite the same - Peter was his partner, not his child - but the intensity of it was so great that he felt it with his entire body.
When Peter caught his gaze, the man took a small step back, as if fighting an urge to flee. Seeing this, Scott approached Chris.
"Maybe this isn't the best time-"
"Scott, you may be our Alpha, but this is between Peter and I," he said sternly, before he allowed his expression to soften. "You need to trust me with this."
The teen considered him carefully before giving him a small nod; then, he gestured at Deucalion to follow him inside.
The moment he was left alone with Peter, Chris crossed the space between them in quick, determined strides. Seeing this, the werewolf took another step back, before clenching his jaw and steeling himself against- well, whatever Peter actually expected him to do, which was probably nothing good.
"Chris, listen–"
"Not here. Come with me.”
Peter nodded jerkilly, then walked half a step behind him as Chris led him to his car.
"We're going to Melissa's old house," he explained when the tension between them became unbearable. "I wanted us to have some privacy."
The werewolf frowned, brows drawn together. "Is she waiting for us there?"
"No, Melissa stayed in the apartment. She wanted me to have this conversation with you first." His words caused Peter to stiffen even more, the werewolf's fists clenching and unclenching in nervous spasms, and he sighed. "I'm not doing a very good job at welcoming you back, am I?"
"You're probably as welcoming as I deserve," Peter muttered under his breath, looking through the window to avoid meeting his eyes.
Thankfully, a moment later they reached the McCall old house, and Chris got out of the car, then opened the passenger door for Peter. When the man didn't immediately get out, Chris peered inside and saw what was the problem: Peter had partially transformed, fangs poking from his mouth as the man grimaced.
"Give me a moment, I'm trying to get it under control– "
Chris reached down and traced the protruding bones and facial hair with his fingertips. "It's my fault, isn't it? I'm making you so nervous that you lose your cool. I'm sorry, I just didn't want to do this in a car of all places."
Peter's expression was wary as the werewolf narrowed his eyes at him. "Do what exactly?"
"I've planned this big, serious speech, and I wanted to give it on the very porch where you agreed to open your relationship with Melissa and welcome me in, but I guess that it wasn't meant to be."
"What are you saying...?"
He squatted, not wanting to say it while looking down at the man who captured his heart so thoroughly, "I love you, Peter Hale, though apparently I'm useless at many things, including grand gestures and love confessions. I don't know why you left us, and even though I'd really like to find that out, more than anything I just want to make out with you on the very bed where we slept together for the first time. So if you could retract those fangs and come with me into the house, that would be really great."
Peter's eyes widened and the werewolf gaped at him, for once in his life completely lost for words. Then, his face smoothed back to its human looks, and he hurried to unfasten the seat belts, cursing when his fingers fumbled with the buckle. Chris chuckled at the poorly hidden eagerness, then leaned down to help, his palm covering Peter's hand – and just like that, he knew that they were going to be okay.
They still needed to talk, obviously, but what he’d seen in Peter’s behavior so far screamed remorse way better than any spoken apologies ever would. That was enough for him.
Notes:
When I planned this part a few weeks ago, it was supposed to be 100% angst, with Peter being too proud to apologize for his actions.
Then, as I started working on this chapter, it just didn't want to write itself that way. Only once I finished it, I came to the same realization as Chris: that with Peter, you have to listen to what he doesn't say, and read all the signals that he sends with his body and his behavior. That's why Chris has already forgiven him without needing to hear that Peter's sorry - because it's pretty obvious that he is.
If it feels like Chris accepted Peter too quickly or too easily, don't blame the author. The story wanted to be written that way, so there's nothing I can do about that.
Chapter Text
Peter didn't understand kindness. He wasn't kind by nature and he wouldn't even know how to be. There were stronger urges and feelings driving his life: ambition, passion, desire, power. Love, too, but of the possessive kind, as he'd always protected what was his, even from himself if needed be. But an inherent kindness such as the one Scott showed him time and time again? It was foreign to him.
It was also exactly the reason why it was also his greatest weakness, passing through his meticulously raised walls as if they weren't there. That's why he didn't put up much of a fight when Scott asked him to come home, despite the dread he felt at the prospect of facing his pack again, knowing how much he'd hurt them… He'd had his reasons for doing it, but in his experience, his way of thinking was rarely met with acceptance and understanding.
Scott was a notable exception to that rule. Was it really such a surprise that his presence was what anchored Peter to his humanity?...
"Don't leave me again," he demanded, not feeling comfortable to say anything else with Deucalion at the wheel, seeing and hearing everything that was happening in the back of the car, but he needed to say that.
"You know that it's impossible for anyone to make such a promise and keep it," Scott's eyes, a little too tired and shadowed for his teenage exterior, belay a deep awareness of one's mortality, and Peter hated it. "But I promise that I'll do everything to stay alive, hopefully for many more years."
It wasn't enough; was not nearly close to being enough, and yet he had a suspicion that it was all that he would ever get.
"And the Wild Hunt?" He asked sharply. "Are they going to be a problem?"
In hindsight, maybe he shouldn't have asked for details when he wasn't ready to hear them, but as it was, Scott launched into a tale of everything that happened when Peter had been hiding in the desert.
I should've trusted Derek's instincts, he thought, angry with himself. I should've looked for Scott and not give up hope so easily. But trust didn't come to him any easier than kindness. Or hope, for that matter.
No matter how much he tried to pretend that he was a changed man, his old habits – like distrusting everyone but himself – had never really died; they just kept falling dormant, only to reawake without failure whenever life knocked him down. They were his demons, true, but they were also his safety net, a coping mechanism that was far from being healthy. But they had helped him to push on when he was without an anchor – even though the side effect was that he'd effectively pushed everyone away, too.
***
When they reached Beacon Hills, the same old habits were what kept him from saying back to Chris that he loved him. He felt that love quite easily, just underneath his skin, like something that had become a part of him without him even noticing. But feeling it and saying it out loud were two different kinds of beast, and in the end he just followed the man inside without a single word, much less those two words that Chris was probably hoping for.
The house itself looked desolate, with most of the stuff moved to the new location. To his surprise, though, there was a single pillow and duvet in the bedroom.
"When Scott returned to us, he didn't have any memories of the pack or our new home, so he came here instead. Melissa brought some of the stuff back that night, the bare necessities, but it'll do," Chris explained, taking his hand and tugging at it gently to bring him closer, but Peter resisted the pull.
"Chris, I've been in my wolf form for weeks. I need to brush my teeth, and shower, at the very least."
"Go on, then, I'll wait for you," the man acquiesced with a small nod, so Peter made a hasty retreat to the bathroom. It wasn't that he was particularly filthy; wolves were quite tidy animals, but since they used tongue to clean themselves, the need to brush his teeth was a top priority.
It also gave him some time alone to figure out how he wanted to handle things between them. He had never felt self-conscious about any part of his body, and sex came naturally to him even since he'd been a teenager - Malia was a living and breathing proof of that - but now, something made him hesitate, and he needed to figure out what it was.
He took his time showering, hoping that the hot water would wash away whatever stress or anxiety was bothering him, and slowly his muscles started to relax. It wasn't that he thought that Chris would be disappointed if nothing happened between them, as the man would most probably be just as happy to simply cuddle up to each other. But the real question was, what did he want?...
Walking out of the bathroom, he didn't bother dressing, wanting Chris to see him as he was now: too thin body, protruding hips and ribs, and the hollow pit of his belly. His lover's eyes widened at the sight of him, and he forced himself to stand straight under that intense gaze.
"Funnily enough, the outside finally matches what's on the inside," he mused, his lips twisting in a bitter half-smile, half-grimace. "I'm all sharp lines and jagged edges, now."
Maybe he's always been that way, but using his wit and charm he'd purposefully created more of a polished visage. But Chris deserved to know the truth, to be shown all that he was, every twisted, ugly and spiteful side of him... And yet, the man was looking at him with something akin to wonder, and it made Peter feel weak in the knees. He'd never felt so coveted as he did at that very moment, despite the fact that he looked as far from his best as possible, and felt even worse.
"I want you to fuck me," he blurted, before he lost his nerve.
Chris blinked, surprised, and Peter didn't blame him; they'd done all sorts of fun activities in bedroom, handjobs, blowjobs, what have you, but Peter had been saying right from the start that anal sex was off limits for him, as he found it quite off-putting.
"Where does this come from?" Chris frowned. "If you want to do it as some sort of apology–"
"That, too. But mostly, this is something that I want for myself. You know how I feel about anal sex, so it's not physical desire, but…" he hesitated, not knowing how to put it into words, this need to have his boundaries crossed, to be pushed to the very edge and to come back from it, "it would ground me," he finished awkwardly.
Chris cupped his cheeks in his palms. "Are you sure about that?" When he nodded, the ex-hunter added: "If at any point you'll want me to stop–"
Peter gave him a crooked smile. "I'll tell you, I promise. I'm not some self-sacrificing martyr, and if I do something that makes me uncomfortable, it's only because it serves me in a different way… So, will you do it?"
In response, Chris drew him into a kiss, the very first one they shared since Peter had left Beacon Hills, then murmured with his lips still brushing Peter's: "There are very few things I wouldn't do for you, and making love to you isn't one of them."
"Well, you might want to start by taking your clothes off, since I feel quite ridiculous standing here all naked while you're still fully clothed," Peter gave him a pointed look.
The speed and efficiency with which Chris started undressing was quite impressive, even for an ex-hunter, and it made him smile with amusement mixed with fondness.
***
Much later, when they were lying on the bed, bodies covered in sweat, Peter finally felt at ease. He hadn't particularly enjoyed the intercourse, sexually-wise, but he'd already suspected that would be the case, so it didn't bother him much. This time it wasn't about pleasure for him, but about something much more intimate: to be taken apart and then put back together.
"When you said that you love me, I didn't say it back. I want to," he licked his lips nervously, "and not just because you said it first, but– I just can't–"
"Peter, look at me," Chris caught his gaze, the man's steel-blue eyes capturing his full attention with ease. "It's not quid pro quo, you shouldn't feel the pressure to say it back."
"Aren't you disappointed, though? Not even a little bit?" Don't you care? He thought but didn't say.
"The most important part is not saying it; it's committing to it, and living it one day at a time," Chris explained patiently, never breaking their eye contact. "Can you do that?"
Peter released his breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "Yes," he said quietly. "I'll do my best not to fail Melissa and you ever again."
Chapter 218
Notes:
Regardless if you celebrate Christmas or not, hopefully you got to eat so much yummy food and sweets that you can barely move by now, haha 🍰 🥮 🎉
Stay happy and healthy, and be sure to hug everyone you love! 💖
Here's my Christmas gift for you - a brand new chapter, I hope that you'll enjoy it!
Chapter Text
Peter didn't get nervous on principle. He wasn't the kind of man to waste time worrying what was going to happen next, and yet when he got out of Chris’ car and stood outside of their pack's den, he felt a mix of regret and tense anticipation that was as close to nervousness as it could get. He had the feeling that he wasn't going to be let off the hook easily by the rest of the pack, so he took a deep breath before entering the building.
“I'm gonna check up on Isaac and Allison first, but you go ahead, we'll join you in a few,” Chris said to him, patting his back for good luck. He had the feeling that he was going to need it.
After the initial exuberant, tearful hugs, he took one look at Melissa and the kids: Malia, Lori and Brett, and knew that he owed them an explanation, at the very least - not to mention an apology.
“When I left, it wasn't my intention to hurt any of you,” he finally said.
“So why did you?” Malia asked, folding arms across her chest in a mix of a challenge and stubborn defiance that once again proved without a shred of doubt that she was his daughter, his blood. He wouldn't be easily mollified if he were in her place either. “When I was deciding between staying with my father or with you, you promised that you'll always be there for me. Why did you lie?”
He almost flinched at the accusatory tone, knowing that it was at least partially, if not fully, deserved. “I didn't lie to you on purpose, I just underestimated how losing my anchor would affect me. After my link with Scott broke, I was like a bomb just waiting for someone to light a fuse… Leaving Beacon Hills was the best way to protect all of you.”
“That’s bullshit,” she said boldly. “How abandoning us was supposed to help?”
“Because I couldn't destroy something that was out of my reach,” he said with equal bluntness. “Before I left, I was well on my way to tearing the entire pack apart, you all witnessed that. Leaving was the lesser evil, even though at that moment it probably didn't feel like such.”
She huffed, obviously still angry with him, but she dropped the line of questioning - for now, at least.
He turned to Lori and Brett. “You haven't said anything. Is there anything you'd like to ask or say to me?”
Unsurprisingly, it was Brett who replied. Between the two of them, he's always been the more outspoken one.
“Look, you might be an Alpha, but it doesn't mean that you're perfect. Satomi weren't either, so it's not like we were expecting you to be the father of the year or anything,” the boy said with a shrug, trying to act cool and unaffected, but Peter could feel the waves of self-deprecating coming off of him. “At least our link with you didn't break when you were gone, it just felt… isolated, remote. It was better than the alternative, though.”
He suppressed a grimace, realizing how low of a standard they were comparing him against; they deserved much more than what he'd given them.
“I've never stopped caring about any of you, I just thought that removing myself from the equation was the best way to keep everyone safe,” he emphasized. They should already be aware of what he was capable of while being feral and mad from pain; after all, they knew the story behind Laura's death. “Will you give me one more chance to be your parent?”
Seeing Brett's small, tentative nod, he gathered him and Lori into a hug. As he rubbed the siblings’ backs gently, he looked above their shoulders at Malia who still looked like she might rebel, and he raised his eyebrow questioningly.
“Fine,” she relented with a long-suffering sigh, before crossing the room to join the group hug. She squeezed them with a little more enthusiasm than necessary, yet no one complained. “But you owe us an ice cream for each week you've been away, or there's going to be hell to pay.”
He chuckled softly into her hair, not surprised in the slightest by the threat.
All the while, Melissa was looking at him without uttering even a single word, and he knew that of all the people that he'd hurt, convincing her to accept him back was going to be the hardest. He wasn't even sure if he deserved it.
***
When Scott approved the idea of organizing the summit for the leaders of the US packs, he honestly had no idea what that would entail, like how many werewolves they were actually talking about. In his previous life most of the packs had already gone extinct or were on the run. Now, when Derek presented him the list of packs’ representatives that had confirmed their attendance, he was beginning to worry that such a huge gathering might attract too much attention, which was the last thing he wanted, especially with the current geopolitical tensions.
“How about I print leaflets and posters about a fantasy convention, something along the lines of ‘vampires, werewolves and witches are cordially invited to a joint adventure, where heroes emerge and magic meets might in an epic battle against the forces of evil’,” Stiles waggled his eyebrows playfully. “That way when someone spurts fangs and claws, muggles would think they’re fake and wouldn't even bat an eyelid.”
Scott's face lit up. “You know what, it might actually do the trick... Great idea!”
“What can I say, I'm widely renowned for my cleverness, wit and brilliant mind, but thanks for acknowledging it,” Stiles grinned, then bounced downstairs, presumably to start preparing materials for the print.
Scott shook his head fondly, then his face softened as he caught a similar look on Derek's face.
“How are you holding up? You know, with Peter being back?” He asked hesitantly, knowing that it was a sensitive topic.
The besotted look disappeared from Derek's face in an instant as the other werewolf scowled. “I'm still waiting for Peter to actually talk to me, but so far he's been holed up in his apartment with Melissa and the kids. I guess that I'm not a priority for him.”
“Derek–”
The man shook his head. “Let's just drop it, after the summit we will have more than enough time to air our grievances. I don't want to lose the focus on what's important.”
“Your relationship with your uncle is important, but if you think that it can wait...”
“It can,” Derek confirmed sharply, then let out a long exhale. “Look, Peter and I, we've been through a rough patch before. We can mend things between us, but until it actually happens, I could really use a distraction.”
He nodded with understanding. “Okay, then. Let's get Deucalion and Deaton up here so that we can discuss all those Alphas who are going to be roaming our town soon. I want to know everything there is to know about those packs.”
It would be a mistake to go into the meeting blindly; and while he didn't consider any Alpha a rival, much less an enemy, that didn't necessarily mean that his feelings in the matter were reciprocated. What the Wild Hunt had done at his request must have rattled everyone, not only humans, but also the supernaturals, and if his first life had taught him anything, it was that power did make him a pariah, even amongst other werewolves. It'll take some time and effort to gain their trust, but he didn't count on convincing every single person of his good intentions, as there always were going to be people who would mistrust him on principle.
***
Holding a grudge wasn't something that Melissa normally did, but she wasn't quick to forgive and forget either. Not that she did it out of spite; while she wasn't against giving people a second chance, she still felt that trust had to be earned - or re-earned - and she didn't trust easily, especially after someone had let her down. That was why when it looked like everyone seemed ready to accept Peter back into the fold, she remained hesitant.
He saw this, of course; he was much too intelligent and perceptive to remain oblivious to the mounting tension between them, but he seemed content to let the kids have their moment, and that was fine with her. She didn't want to spoil their reunion; after all the tension, uncertainty and heartbreak of the last few months, they all deserved a moment of peace. It was much later in the afternoon when the kids finally dispersed to their respective floors, leaving her with Chris and Peter.
She turned to Chris. “I'll need some time alone with Peter, as you two have had the chance to talk, but I haven't.”
The man nodded. “Of course, honey. I'll go check if Scott needs me for anything.”
She loved this about him, that he was always there when she needed him, but also gave her space when she asked for it.
“Thank you,” she murmured, then pulled him in for a kiss; by now, it was a well-settled habit for her. However, with Peter watching the two of them with an inscrutable expression, it also served like a statement, to remind the werewolf that Chris was no longer the odd one out, an addition to their relationship. Chris, she was now certain of. It was Peter who she'd lost her trust in.
Once they were alone, she looked at him challengingly. “How did you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Managed to find your way back into Chris’ heart so quickly and easily.” Too quickly and much too easily, in her opinion.
He didn't respond at once; instead, he let his eyes wander around the flat, as if cataloging each, even the smallest detail in his mind. When he finally looked back at her, he seemed almost contemplative.
“To be entirely honest with you, I didn't do anything. I didn't even have the chance to apologize before Chris decided that he– loved me, despite everything.”
“Wait, just like that?” She asked incredulously.
“Just like that. He's an amazing man, and I wouldn't blame you if you decided to stick with him from now on.”
There was a calm acceptance in Peter's tone, but she could also see a tiredness and something akin to defeat in the way his hands hung loosely at his sides, and how his usually straight back was now slightly hunched. And no matter how angry she was with him, how hurt she was still feeling, she didn't feel any joy in seeing him like that… But she couldn't forgive him either, at least not yet; not entirely.
“I don't know what to do, or how to feel about you anymore. You abandoned me, Peter,” she swallowed, feeling her throat constricting from all the emotions welling up in her. “When we all thought that Scott was dead, you lost your anchor - but I lost my son. So when you left without a word when I needed you the most, it didn't just hurt me, it almost destroyed me.”
She hid her face in her palms, fighting back sobs. After a few moments she felt Peter's arms surrounding her, and despite her reluctance in forgiving him, her body didn't have such qualms and sagged bonelessly, almost melting in his embrace.
“Why didn't you at least talk to us before you left?” She muttered into his chest when her sobs finally subsided, her voice hoarse and quivering from crying.
He took a small step back, his thumbs wiping the tears off her damp cheeks. “Because I was afraid that you'd try to talk me out of it. Back then, I was on the brink of going feral. I'd have stayed if you asked me to, but then if I'd hurt or kill anyone afterwards, I would end up hating myself and you. I only had enough strength of will to run away, so that's what I did."
Chapter 219
Notes:
Hello dears, I've caught a bad case of cold, it's been five days already and I still feel like crap (please excuse my french), but I thought to myself that it shouldn't stop me from writing and posting another chapter, right?
Enjoy! 🙂
Chapter Text
Scott looked at his watch, then clapped twice to get everyone's attention. “Okay, guys, it's time.”
They had prepared as best as they could, made contingency plans for every possible scenario: from an open show of support from the other packs to an outright hostile reaction. The main takeaway was to remain level-headed at all times, as well as not to let the other werewolves rile them up and vice versa. But the time for preparations was now over and it was time for the summit.
“Showtime!” Stiles rubbed his palms together, cackling like a madman, ignoring everyone's eye rolls.
They'd already decided earlier that everyone from their pack, human or supernatural, was welcome to join the meeting, as long as they were aware of the possible dangers. Scott hated to put his friends in danger like that, but he couldn't deny that showing off a diverse pack such as theirs would send a powerful message, one that could potentially impact the way werewolves viewed humans. They were currently gathered in the same old distillery that had held the previous summit, but as the expected audience was much larger, they had to hold the actual meeting in the open. And maybe it was better that way; it was a part of werewolf's nature to detest closed spaces, especially if they were too crowded.
Not everyone was present, though, as he'd already delegated Rafael, Chris, Allison and Isaac to patrol the area and be on the lookout for any outside threats. His father and Chris were the most obvious choices, considering their familiarity with weapons, but he'd learned Isaac and Allison had been training for the past few months and became quite proficient in wielding guns and a bow, respectively, so they could be useful in the field too. That still left around a dozen people on their side attending the summit, but he surmised that should be more than enough to show the strength of their pack.
“Let's go outside, the packs should start gathering soon,” he stood up and nodded at Jackson and Liam to open the door. They didn't have to wait long for the first participants to arrive; as Satomi's pack emerged from the woods, the woman stepped forward and gave him a curt nod.
“I hope that you know what you're doing.”
Scott met her halfway and inclined his head. “If hunters can have their channel of communication between themselves, then so should we. This feels like a good opportunity to establish exactly that.”
She waved his explanation off. “Save your speech for later, you're going to need it. From what I've heard, not everyone is happy about your sudden rise in power, and even fewer trust you, so tread carefully.”
It quickly turned out that she was quite right; the next packs that approached their group were looking on edge, shooting tense glances both at him and at the area around them, as if expecting an ambush.
“It's okay, we're safe here,” he called out with his palms up in the air to calm them down. “My people have set the perimeter and are patrolling the area.”
A huge werewolf, rivaling Ennis both in height and muscle power, though his blond hair and beard made him resemble a viking, looked him up and down critically. “Up close you look even younger than on that video of yours… What a teenager would know about defensive measures?”
“I know enough, but my men know even more. I have an FBI agent and an ex-hunter on the task. Is that good enough for you?” He raised an eyebrow at the man, who seemed to be unfazed by his answer.
“Not if they turn on us, we're like sitting ducks here. Wasn't it the FBI that kidnapped some of our Betas not so long ago?... And ex-hunter? There's no such thing, they're in it for life.”
Scott didn't have the chance to respond, as Peter came forward in a lazy swagger. “Not if they're cast out from their clan. Chris Argent is now known as Chris Hale, and if I can accept a man whose sister was responsible for my family's deaths, then it should be a clear sign for everyone that he's as much a part of our pack as everyone else. But if you take issue with that, then we're gonna have a problem,” Peter grinned widely, clearly excited by the prospect, his extended fangs the only sign that it wasn't just a friendly chat.
Scott sighed. So much for not riling anyone up... “Peter, stand down, will you?”
His packmate pouted, muttering ‘spoilsport’ under his breath, but obediently took a few steps back.
The huge werewolf whistled. “Well I'll be damned, Hale bowing down to some whelp, your family has truly fallen low.”
As the man managed to insult him and the Hales in one breath, Scott's entire pack bristled, but it was Derek who growled the loudest, eyes gleaming with a blood-red light.
“Take that back, or you and your pack will find themselves banned from this town!”
The huge werewolf laughed, not intimidated in the slightest. “And finally the truth comes out! I couldn't believe that a mere teenager would be the one calling the shots, but after what happened to your family, it would make sense for you to find a puppet that could be the hunters’ target while you're operating behind the scenes. Well played, Hale.”
“You think that I'm the leader?” Derek asked incredulously.
“You or that uncle of yours. So who is it?”
“How about me?” Deucalion's calm, cultured voice somehow managed to grab everyone's attention. So far he’d been staying in the back just like they'd agreed earlier, not wanting to intimidate the packs which he’d been terrorizing not that long ago, but now he joined Scott at the front, his entire posture deceptively relaxed. “Am I powerful and dangerous enough for you, Eric?”
“Deucalion!” The huge man blanched, his back stiffening, and for the first time since they'd started talking, he actually reeked of fear. “So the rumors are true, you've got your eyesight back.”
“That's right, I am no longer blind, but it looks to me that you are. Well, either blind or stupid, if you underestimate my Alpha on the basis of his young age.”
“Wait, your Alpha?”
“Let me bestow some words of wisdom on you: leadership is as much about the followers as it is about the leader, if not more, that's why Alphas’ strength is determined by the strength of their pack. So tell me, what does it say to you about Scott if I do something like… this,” with the last word, Deucalion suddenly dropped to one knee and bared his throat to Scott in a sign of absolute submission and deference. Something which he had never, ever shown before, not even in private, much less in the presence of foreign packs, and quite understandably it caused a lot of shocked gasps, including Scott's.
“Please, you don't have to do that,” he almost stammered as he grabbed his lover's arms to pull him up in a hurry. “No one needs to kneel before me, I swear, much less you. We're equals.”
Deucalion's smile was impossibly fond as he shook his head. “That's kind of you to say, but I've long since accepted that we're not, and I've made my peace with it,” he said, then turned to face Eric again. “The Alpha pack is now a part of the McCall pack, on top of the fact that the Hales stand with Scott as well. Is that enough proof of his competence?”
The man nodded mutely, his eyes darting back and forth between them, as if still trying to make sense of what he'd been told.
“What I'm still trying to figure out is how did you manage to cause the mass amnesia among the humans aware of the supernatural world,” a red-haired woman asked Scott, when it was clear that Eric didn't have any more input. “What kind of magic trick is this?”
“What's your name?” He asked her.
“It's Deirdre, of the Weymouth pack in Massachusetts.”
“Wow, you came a long way!”
She shrugged, as if she didn't care that she had to cross an entire continent just to get here. “When something impossible happens, you don't pass up the chance to get the explanation straight from the source. So, how did you do it?”
He hesitated, not certain if he should reveal all the aces up his sleeve, then deciding that telling the truth - or at least an abridged version of it - would be a good start in establishing trust between him and the other packs. “Long story short, one of my men managed to overthrow the previous leader of the Wild Hunt and is now in command of the Ghost Riders.”
Her eyes widened. “A werewolf leading Sluagh na marbh? That's impossible!”
He didn't understand the phrase that she used, but it sounded Gaelic, so he assumed it was the Irish version of the Wild Hunt.
“Actually, Cerberus is not a werewolf, he's a Hellhound,” he corrected her. “My Hellhound, to be precise.”
“No one owns a Hellhound,” she shook her head so fiercely that her red hair whirled around her like a halo. “There is not much known about them, but one of the things that are consistent in all the stories I've read is that they are neutral, never taking anyone's side. They're immortal, impossible to be bribed or intimidated, so there's no way that a Hellhound would answer to a mere mortal, no matter how powerful.”
“Cerberus and I, we have the same goal: protecting the supernatural world at all costs, and once he recognized that, he swore his allegiance to me." He still had his doubts if he'd deserved it, back then, and if he deserved it now, but he was trying his best. "My point is, I've invited all of you here because this gathering is not about one single pack, it's about ensuring the safety of all of us. As long as we fight amongst each other, we're easy targets for the hunters,” he said passionately, then turned to Eric, who still looked unconvinced. “Have you ever wondered why Gerard Argent never finished what he started when he blinded Deucalion? Because the chaos and the killings that followed were playing right into his hands. That's why I want to show the matriarchs that we're not easy pickings anymore, and that if they target one of us, they target all of us. But I can't achieve that without having all of your packs on board with it."
His words were met with silence, but he could see that they were thinking about it, digesting everything they'd heard so far. Although he could hear Eric muttering under his breath, why should they allow a teenager - no matter how influential - to dictate them what to do.
“How about we take a short break, give you the chance to speak with your packmates, and we can resume the meeting in– Will half an hour be acceptable?” Deaton asked smoothly.
“And who’re you?” Eric demanded, his brow furrowed. “Why would a human even be a part of this meeting?”
“I'm Scott's emissary, though truth be told, nowadays he rarely needs my assistance,” Alan said with a crooked smile. “But I'm sure we could all use a break, wouldn't you agree?”
Faced with Deaton’s calm, collected demeanor, Eric knew he had no choice but to agree, unless he wanted to be perceived by everyone as unreasonable and rude. Alan's intervention was quite a clever move, and Scott was glad to still have the emissary on his side, even to just smooth things over when emotions and tempers were running wild.
Chapter Text
Taking advantage of the break, Peter approached Derek. They hadn't spoken much since his return from the desert, and he could sense that his nephew hadn't yet forgiven him for almost breaking their pack in half and forcing others to choose between them. And yet, when that giant of a werewolf had insulted him, Derek's reaction was as fierce as if there were no rivalry between them at all, so it made Peter hopeful that maybe things could be mended between the two of them.
He stopped beside his nephew who was currently standing on the lookout, eyes fixed on the forest ahead, as if making sure no threats were coming from that direction. Derek didn't even twitch or make any outward acknowledgement of his presence, but he didn't tell him to go away either, so Peter decided to take it as a good sign.
“I guess I should thank you for having my back out there,” he murmured quietly, knowing that he would be heard regardless, thanks to their heightened senses.
“Eric insulted our family, he had it coming,” Derek replied equally quietly.
Our family. Peter relaxed, knowing that he was still considered a part of it. “Still, should you ever need someone to be taken care of, even permanently if need be, I'm your man,” he offered.
The recent events had proven without any doubt that he was a killer at heart, and he'd stopped lying to himself and to others that it would ever change. He enjoyed every part of the hunt: the chase, the adrenaline pounding in his ears, the taste of blood on his tongue. Still, with his skewed morality compass he wasn't the best at deciding who deserved to be killed and who should be spared, so he decided to leave that kind of decision-making to others from now on.
His words finally shocked Derek enough to turn and face him. “Why?”
“If it ever comes down to making a judgment call, I trust that you'll make the right one.” He didn't add that he didn't trust himself in that regard, but he'd already accepted this about himself, learned not to deny it anymore. Despite his strength and intelligence he wasn't much of a leader material, he lacked that special quality that inspired loyalty in others, and he'd made his peace with it.
“You didn't trust me, before,” Derek commented in a low voice, his expression stony. “What has changed?”
Thinking back, Peter recalled the tranquil stillness of the desert, the simplicity of the life he'd led there, where all his struggles and doubts, but also plans and ambitions had been grinded into dust. All that remained was a simple fight for survival, and he excelled at that. If it was all that he would ever be a master of, he would still deem it enough.
“You were right about Scott being alive, so it seems that you have good instincts,” he said simply. “Better than mine, at the very least.” Inside, he marveled at how easy it came to him, to admit being in the wrong. He'd make mistakes, and he'd learned from them; there was no shame in admitting that.
Derek leveled him with a mistrustful look, his brow furrowed. “And if Scott ever dies or leaves Beacon Hills, what is going to happen then? Will you go back to being a dick?”
He snorted, genuinely amused. “Hardly. Only someone insane does the same thing over again and expects different results, and I'm many things, but I'm not crazy. Besides, I don't want to actually lead a pack, in hindsight it seems too much of a hussle, and the benefits are not that great,” he shrugged, as if he couldn't care less that he wouldn't be the one in charge. And in all honesty, he didn't care for it at all, not anymore.
“Why should I trust you?” Derek growled, and Peter smirked.
“Dear nephew, you forget that I’ve known you since the day you were born. You already trust me, and that's what makes you angry. But I meant what I said, you have good instincts, so you might as well accept what they're telling you, that I can be trusted.”
Derek huffed, but didn't try to deny or correct him, so Peter took it as a win. He patted his nephew on the back - ignoring the low, warning growl at the friendly gesture - then headed back, more than satisfied with how their talk had gone.
***
Just as the summit was supposed to resume, Deucalion's ears picked up a commotion in the woods and raised his hand in a warning.
“Two people incoming from there,” he pointed to the east. When a gust of wind brought scents from that direction, he sniffed the air, his brow furrowed in concentration. “One of them is Chris, the other has a somewhat familiar scent, but I can't pinpoint it… None of them smells of blood, at least.”
“Alright, let's wait for them, then,” Scott decided, then turned to the packs gathered nearby and called out: “Give us a few minutes, please.”
Soon enough, they saw two silhouettes emerging from the forest; Chris was holding someone at gunpoint, pushing them forward to keep walking. Scott blinked, as he recognized the face that sometimes appeared in his nightmares, when he would wake up covered with cold sweat at the memory of his eye being pierced by a white-hot rod… Theo.
He swallowed with difficulty, his throat suddenly parched, and he knew that his chemosignals must have given away a myriad of emotions: fear, aversion, maybe something close to hatred. Now that he was missing the memories of his first life, he had no positive recollections associated with Theo that could offset the violent first impression from this timeline.
“I found him skulking about in the woods,” Chris pointed at the teen. “What do you want me to do about him?”
Instead of replying, Scott turned to Theo. “What were you doing in the Preserve?”
Spying, most likely, as the massive influx of werewolves in Beacon Hills had probably triggered Theo's curiosity, but he wanted the teen to come clean and admit it himself.
Theo raised his eyebrow at the sight of him. “Weren't you supposed to be dead?”
“I'm rather hard to kill,” he deadpanned, not revealing that he was still here only thanks to Cerberus’ sacrifice. “Now, answer the question.”
“I went for a walk, obviously,” the teen shrugged unconcernedly, as if a gun pointed at him or the dozens of werewolves watching their encounter didn't phase him in the slightest. “Last time I checked, the Preserve wasn't private property.”
“Some parts of these woods belong to the Hale family, so you better watch where you're going,” Derek said with a hint of a growl in his voice.
Scott rubbed his chin thoughtfully, taking in Theo's crumpled clothes, unkempt hair and a faint smell of unwashed human body stench wafting off him. With everything that's been going on, he hadn't even stopped to consider that freeing the teen from the Dread Doctors’ clutches would mean robbing him of a place to sleep. And since Theo was only sixteen, and hardly willing to go back to his birth parents, it wasn't that hard to guess that the teen was currently homeless, and out of options. Not to mention his desire to become a real werewolf - maybe he'd been hoping to attract some Alpha's attention?
“You still want to get the bite, don't you?” He asked knowingly, and Theo's flinch was a clear sign that his guess was right. “Just so you know, your timing is abysmal, we're quite busy at the moment. Chris, take him out of here, I'll deal with him later.”
Just as Chris nudged the teen with a muzzle of his gun to get going, Eric's voice rang in the air: “Not so fast. If you're posing as some kind of authority figure, I want to see for myself how you would handle this. I can sense that there's bad blood between you and the kid. What's the story?”
Scott sighed, just what he needed, to be forced to deal with Theo with all the packs present. “His previous masters captured me and ordered him to blind me. He did it without so much as a flinch,” he said evenly. “So yes, you can say that he and I have unfinished business.”
“So finish it now.”
He clenched his jaw, not liking the fact that Eric was challenging him in such a way, but the request wasn't entirely without merit. If he expected the werewolves to follow his lead, it wasn't unreasonable that they wanted to know what kind of an Alpha he was. He turned to Theo, thinking quickly.
“What would you be willing to do to get the bite?”
Theo straightened, looking him boldly in the eye. “Everything.”
“Even let yourself be blinded?” He asked challengingly. “As you seem to have na qualms inflicting pain on others, I want you to experience first-handedly how it feels. So I'll make a deal with you: an eye for a bite, what do you say?”
The teen licked his lips nervously, his previous bravado all but forgotten. “But– will it heal?”
“Maybe it will, maybe it won't. Take it or leave it,” he said dispassionately.
He could sense that his offer caused not a small amount of shock and horror among his own packmates, most of them not having the chance to witness the ruthless part of him - until now. But even though he didn't have any memories of his previous life, he remembered explaining to his pack how it had taken being trapped underground by skinwalkers for Theo to start to change. He supposed that half-measures wouldn't work this time either.
Theo's eyes darted around as if he was looking for help, but none was offered. “Only one eye?” He asked weakly, and seeing Scott's nod, he took a deep breath and choked out: “Do it. Just… be quick about it, okay?”
Scott did as he was asked: he placed one hand at the base of Theo's neck to keep him immobile, as the teen was shuddering violently, then shoved his thumb's claw straight into his eye socket.
Theo screamed hoarsely, and the moment Scott let him go, he tumbled into the ground, crying and shaking from pain. “Fuck, fuck…” he moaned repeatedly, curling into a tight ball.
Scott squatted beside him. “Hurts like hell, doesn't it?”
“Fuck you!” Theo rasped out.
He sighed, then placed his palm on the hybrid's cheek, damp from tears and sweat. Ever so slowly the wound sealed itself, and Theo's shaking subsided, though his breathing was still uneven from shock and stress.
“Do you still want me to bite you?” Scott asked, not unkindly. “It will mean giving me access to your emotions, and to an extent, it will also give me power over you, so if you need more time to think about it…”
Theo propped himself on his elbows and glowered at him. “You promised me the bite, so keep your goddamn part of the deal.”
“Alright, then,” he relented, even though it wasn't a perfect solution for either of them.
Up until now, he had been able to befriend all his Betas before giving them the bite, which made a strong foundation for the fledgling packbond. With Theo, he suspected that there would be more struggle and rope-pulling involved, before they'd be able to build a solid link between them.
On the other hand, Theo hadn't rejected his offer, even though he had plenty of Alphas besides Scott that he could bargain with. That the hybrid had chosen to accept his deal, no matter how harsh it was, might be a sign that there was a potential there - if not of friendship, then of some basic level of trust or respect at the very least… Or maybe Theo simply planned to get him to drop his guard before trying to kill him, it was hard to tell at this point, but Scott would rather keep him close and observe him, than allow him to roam freely.
“Give me your forearm,” he ordered.
When Theo did as instructed, he leaned down and clenched his jaw on the soft flesh, making sure to bite deep enough to trigger the change. For better or for worse, they were a pack now.
Chapter Text
Once Chris escorted Theo away, Scott turned to the werewolves assembled around him, but before he had a chance to speak up, Satomi beat him to it.
“Don't you think that was a little too harsh of a punishment?”
He shook his head. “You don't know Theo. Ever since his early childhood, he's been lacking empathy, so lectures don't work on him – and neither does appealing to his better side, to his humanity, or whatever you want to call it. If he is to ever learn not to hurt others, he needs to be put in place of his victims and shown how it feels, to be on the receiving side of violence.”
“But he's just a kid,” a blonde Alpha, who had been staying quiet up until now, protested with outrage.
“Who was involved in his sisters’ death when he was nine years old, and since then has been helping a bunch of psychopaths to perform experiments on people. He's not a clueless, innocent kid, has not been one for a very long time now,” he pointed out. “And before you ask, I don't think that he's entirely evil, or a lost cause. But until he actually grows a conscience, he needs to be taught that his actions have consequences.”
“And is it a lesson that you think you can teach him?” Eric raised his eyebrow dubiously.
“I am planning on it,” he said with confidence which he didn't feel, at least not entirely. He was going to do his best, but with Theo it was hard to tell if it was going to be a success or a total failure. “But no matter if you agree with my methods or not, Theo is my Beta now, and my responsibility.”
“Well said,” Deirdre said with an approving nod, and Scott exhaled slowly with relief.
He hoped that he managed to at least establish himself as a leader who knew what he was doing, and wasn't going to shy away from hard choices if a need arose. He wasn't expecting their trust or respect, as that would take more time than just a single afternoon, but acknowledgement of his competence as an Alpha wouldn't go amiss.
“Good. Can we go back to the main topic now, like how would you like me to handle the talk with the matriarchs?” He reminded them the reason why they had gathered here in the first place.
After another lengthy discussion, they managed to collectively decide on a high-level approach towards hunters, and agree on some basic points that should be brought up during the discussion with the matriarchs. By the end of the summit, Scott was tired and his shoulders felt stiff from being on alert for an extended piece of time, but he was also quite satisfied with the outcome. Maybe the packs could really work together towards a common goal, after all?
***
When they got back to the pack den, Scott was surprised to see Jordan standing in the parking lot, leaning against his car. He couldn't help a surge of both happiness and guilt at the sight of his brother-in-arms, and felt helpless that he couldn't figure out how to cross the gulf that had been separating them ever since Cerberus had been forced out of Jordan's body.
He felt a warm palm settling on his back. “Go on, talk to him,” Deucalion murmured, giving him a gentle nudge forward. “I'll take care of the pack, you take care of your hound.”
“Jordan is no longer my Hellhound,” Scott reminded his lover half-heartedly, before giving him a grateful peck on the cheek and parting from their group to approach his– former friend?
He hoped that was not the case.
“I'm leaving Beacon Hills,” Jordan said without preamble, looking him boldly in the eye, as if expecting him to argue. Arguing, however, was the last on his list at the moment, especially where Jordan was concerned.
“You look tired,” he commented softly, taking in the messy hair and bags under the Deputy's usually bright eyes. “Have you been sleeping enough?”
The man pressed his lips angrily. “Didn't you hear what I've just said? I'm leaving–”
“Beacon Hills, yes, I've heard you. Are you hungry? We're going to have dinner soon, you're welcome to join us.”
Jordan stared at him as if he grew a second head. “What are you… What's that got to do with anything?”
He sighed, feeling tired to the bone, and deeper even, to the very core of his being.
“What do you want me to say? That I wish that you'd stay, that you didn't feel like you have to leave? Of course I do,” he said, voice breaking slightly. “l feel utterly helpless, because I don't have the slightest idea how to make things right between us without alienating you even further. So if the only thing that I can still do for you is to ensure that you're fed and well-rested before you leave, then that's what I'm gonna do - but only if you let me. You don't owe me anything, Jordan, it's I who owe you. And I haven't even started to pay off that debt.”
The man blinked at him, a little wide-eyed at the emotional speech. “...I guess dinner would be fine.”
It was Scott's turn to be surprised at the turn of events, and it took him a moment before the message properly registered in his mind. But when it did, he grinned with utter joy. “Wow, really? That's great! Come on, everyone's missed you, they'll be ecstatic to see you again. But tell me if I'm too much, I tend to do that when I'm excited.”
Jordan's lips twitched in reluctant amusement, as if the man was trying to suppress a smile but didn't quite manage it, “I'm pretty sure that I can handle it.”
“Good, that's good,” he prattled, happy to have his friend back – if only for a brief moment.
***
Jordan's decision to leave Beacon Hills hadn't been made lightly, but he felt too weary and restless to stay. While during the day he could throw himself into work, at night he was being haunted by memories and dreams that wouldn't be pushed into the back of his mind any longer. Each evening he was dreading going to sleep, to the point that he stayed up late and fell asleep way past midnight, but even then he would wake up a couple of times during the night, his clothes soaked with sweat.
Sometimes, he dreamt of darkness so deep and thick that it threatened to suffocate him, and he would wake up breathless, choking on his own spit. Sometimes, he dreamt of looking at the barrel of a gun pointed at his head, knowing that this was it, that this was the end, and there was no escape, no help coming to rescue him. Other times, his nightmares were filled with fire, and he was forced to watch the entire world go down in flames, while he was the only one left standing. Only then the fire engulfed him too, and he screamed his agony into the night…
But the worst were dreams in which he was trapped in a body that had been stolen from him, forced to be the spectator of his own life, never alone and never free. He hated feeling like that, vulnerable and totally out of control of his life. Powerless, in every single way that a human can be.
Back in the days, he had enrolled in the Army to feel empowered and in control, but it seemed that his demons managed to always catch up with him no matter where he went; except that he had a brand new demon haunting him now, and its name was Cerberus.
He wished that he could hate him - it? - but he quickly found out that it wasn't the case, and a part of him even missed its presence. This was maybe the worst, to miss the very being that had enslaved him, had stolen his body and used it for its own purposes. This was the very definition of Stockholm Syndrome, and he hated to think that he'd been brainwashed so thoroughly to fall into that kind of trap.
But while in his Army days he had been taught the techniques for resisting interrogation and escaping from captivity, he had never been told what to do when the captivity was internal rather than external… That's why he'd decided to leave Beacon Hills, if only to give himself that sense of escaping from prison, no matter how artificial or illusory that feeling may be.
Deciding on leaving was one thing, but telling others about his decision was another. The Sheriff accepted his resignation with an air of defeat, but didn't try to actively stop him.
“Do what you need to do,” the man said. “You won't be a good deputy unless you deal with your own mess… I'll save the job for you until you get to that point.”
It was the kind of stark honesty that Jordan could appreciate, so he genuinely thanked the Sheriff, both for letting him go, and for keeping the position open for him. He didn't have many friends, and was glad that he could consider Noah as one.
With that out of the way, he next went to see Scott McCall. He didn't know why he would even want to talk to the teen, but he did. Maybe he needed some kind of closure; or maybe he hoped that he would feel more in control if he proved that he can make his own choices. Whatever the reason, he was tense while waiting for the pack to get back from whatever business they were currently busy with. (He tried not to think of the pack as his, or get too involved, as it would only make his departure harder.)
He had expected Scott to be angry, or to try to talk him out of it. What he hadn't expected was being invited to dinner, and the offer took him off guard. It was one thing to recall the teen - or rather, the time-traveler posing as a teen, if his hazy memories were accurate on that part - caring for him when he had still been merged with Cerberus, but it was a different thing altogether to experience that care directly. He didn't find it in himself to resist it, though, especially since he had been barely eating and sleeping these past few weeks. Maybe he simply wanted to feel normal and enjoy a meal like an ordinary person, rather than worry about possession or coming back from the dead...
He just wanted to feel human again, and this was the only way he knew how to be one; so even though he still planned to leave the town afterwards, he found himself joining the pack, if only for a short while.