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Cirque Du Freak d’Argent

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“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Cirque Du Freak d’Argent!” The ringmaster's voice echoed through the grand circus. The theatrical lights crisscrossing in anticipation, until they all came to focus on one particular spot, the very centre of the circus. At the centre there was the stage to be found. Tall navy blue drapes hung across it, opening on either side in a half  moon crescent. Thick clouds of smoke were creeping up the stage. One by one each light went out, until there was nothing the human eye could see. It stayed dark until the crowd grew more and more uncomfortable. A nervous energy was tangible in the air. All of a sudden the sound of music started to fill the unnerving silence of the tent. The amazing voice of  Edith Piaf was bouncing off the speakers as she sang ‘Non, je ne regrette rien.’

A full moon shaped spotlight was lit above the stage, turning everything blue within its reach. A young blonde female was gently being lowered down on a trapeze right in the centre of the platform. The light shimmering off her tight mini-dress. Then out of the darkness, another trapeze swayed above the platform and a young male with dark curly hair threw himself in the air, flying across the space only to be caught mid-air by the blonde. The audience gasped in awe, some even cheered. The children’s voices were the most audible. They clapped excitedly and looked at their parents if they saw the same sight as they did. Their parents would smile and encourage their excitement.

Meanwhile, beautiful pale skinned triplets with long strawberry blond hair, gracefully walked up the stage. Raven coloured feathers were hugging their bodies tightly, leaving nothing left to the imagination. The triplets were dancing sensually to the rhythm of the music in the background. The raven feathers on their bodies shinning enigmatically in the blue light. Making their gracefully, yet precise, movements seem enthralling. The blonde on the trapeze threw the young male with a good swing into the air once more. After two perfectly performed somersaults he landed on all fours, meeting the audience with a cocky smile. He approached the blonde on the trapeze and lifted her up to put her down gently beside himself. Both bowed down and then the tent became dark once again. In the darkness the triplets left the stage, leaving the two trapezes behind. 

Curious whispers were heard from the crowd when the piano started playing, increasing in rhythm mercilessly. When this time around the light in the centre went on, there was a massive black circular target board with blood red straps placed on the platform. Its name, The Veiled Wheel. The young male led the female towards it. When she was standing in front of the wheel, both her arms and legs were strapped in place, her neck last. The male went to stand behind the wheel. He then came back with a black paper screen and attached it to the front of the wheel, trapping the blonde within it. Once the equipment was put in place, he gave the wheel a good spin. Though the young male did not look strong nor looked heft, the power of his spin was proving otherwise. Walking back towards the front of the platform he turned around, taking his gear off the floor. He was holding exactly five knives. He took one deep breath then started throwing them. Each hit the paper screen with a loud thud and a lot of force.

Once he’d ran out of knives two assistants, dressed completely in black, walked on stage from behind the curtains and took the screen away. When they had stepped aside, the audience was able to see that the blonde was still unharmed. Each knife had missed the target exactly by an inch. The blonde was giving the thrower a small smile, which could be described as reassuring, though no one else would be able to notice that much. Then all of a sudden there was a loud explosion right next to the young thrower, no fireworks but thick clouds of smoke rose high around the male. Once the smoke had cleared the thrower was replaced by a young female archer. With long curly black hair and a fierce look which held no mercy. She had already aimed her crossbow at the blonde. The two assistants who had been standing beside the wheel with the paper screen were nowhere to be seen. Along with the ruthless rhythm of the piano, the sound of a violin joined in, increasing the velocity of the music once again. Playing an unnerving melody in the background.

The audience had grown uneasy once more. Without warning the female archer shot her first arrow. Then another and went on until five arrows had been shot. All arrows were parallel with the knives, however where the knives hadn’t hit their target the arrows had. Each one of them piercing through flesh, blood seeping through the wounds down the targets’ arms and legs. The fifth one puncturing the left side of her throat. The razor sharp cut on her neck was dripping with blood. Her eyes started to shine, not the normal yellow colour but electric blue, due to the lights. For a moment it seemed the mask of comfort and ease she had been wearing had only been that, a mask. Though none of the crowd would see. The blonde tried to swallow the tears that threatened to fall down her cheeks in vain. The movement only seemed to cause more damage to the wound on her quickly paling throat. Mothers and fathers looking horrified while trying to calm down their children. Cries and shrieks were heard but none of it would stop the show now.

The archer calmly approached her target wearing a predatory smile. Once she came to a halt in front of the blonde she started tearing out each arrow, without pause nor mercy. Throwing each one carelessly on the floor, she then loosened the straps. By the time the blonde was able to stand on her own feet all her wounds had healed, the revelation had left the audience gasping in absolute shock. For a moment there was no sound but the endless rhythm in the background. They both turned to face the audience on either side of the stage and bowed down. At last the audience jumped to their feet and started cheering and clapping. Giving them both a standing ovation. The two performers rapidly disappeared behind the drapes, only then did the melody change into something soothing. For a short while that is.

Once they were out of sight and off the stage , the archer grabbed a hold of the throat of the blonde, slamming her head first into the dirty brick wall.
“The hell was that!” The archer hissed into her ear as her other hand reached into her pocket and took out a small device. It was small really with just a single red coloured button on it.

“I swear I couldn’t control it,” The blonde gasped out hoarsely, tears running down her cheeks.
The archer was about to press the button when the young male from their performance came running down the hallway.

“ERICA!” He screamed and within a blink of the eye he was standing next to both females.

Just like that the button was pressed and both Erica and the young male who had come to her rescue were down on their knees. They were cringing in pain as they held onto the silver bracelets punctured into the flesh of their wrists. The sound of electricity running through their body joining their screams in agony. The archer gave them a crooked smile and then gave the male a good kick in his side before she left the scene. As soon as they were alone, the electric shocks stopped, leaving them gasping for air. Their breathing ragged and shallow. The young male with the curly brown hair reached out to the female next to him. He pulled her into his arms and cradled her, as he tried soothing her while gently wiping the tear streaks  from her cheeks.

“Isaac,” she whispered too softly for the human ear to hear.
“We’re in so much trouble now,” she started sobbing. “You shouldn’t have come back,” Erica said breathlessly.
“Shhh, it’s going to be okay, I promise.”

“I’ve got you and I’m not leaving you by yourself, ever.” He promised softly as he placed a soft kiss against her forehead. Despite being weakened by the electric shock and the constant wolfsbane running through his system, Isaac tried to get back on his feet, wounding his arm around Erica, encouraging her to try and get up as well.

“We have to get out of here before they show up,” Isaac said softly.
“Yeah.. okay,” Erica breathed out and took a deep breath. She tried to compose herself and started walking with Isaac right by her side. The both of them headed back towards their dressing room. Erica fitting herself into a purple dress with tights. Isaac wearing an orange vest and orange shorts.  He looked at Erica. “Ready for the next show?” Erica nodded and said “Let’s get this show started,” she held her head up high, looked at Isaac once more and then they were being announced on stage as acrobats.

Once the performers of the beginning act had left the stage, the audience was given a short break. The show would be resumed after ten minutes. Exactly ten minutes later the lights started to dim and once again to focus on the centre of the circus. Musicians excitedly started playing drums while others played bass instruments, as the platform filled with acrobats and jugglers. The stage filled with colour as each artist wore a different cheerful outfit, spreading out all across the floor. Erica was doing flips across the floor. She gracefully jumped off the stage in a flip. Raising her hands as the audience clapped. Isaac was tossing a new girl in the air so she could do acrobatics of her own. She was a petite Asian girl that he did not know. Isaac caught a whiff of her scent.

Definitely not a werewolf, he thought.

While each artist was performing their act, different colours of silk fabric fell from the above. More artists entered the platform and started performing aerial silk. Climbing on the suspended fabric. Some twisted themselves all the way up to the sky only to let themselves fall in a roll. Others twirled in the fabric. Isaac was glad he hadn’t been needed to partake in this particular spectacle. He hated aerial silk though it was always better than the alternative, being electrocuted. The audience went silent by the spectacle. Once again fallen under the spell of this magnificent Circus. With Isaac and Erica’s part being over they took off the stage and dressed in regular clothing. Which wasn’t always easy.

“I hate that I can’t wear proper clothes due to these stupid shackles,” Erica complained. “Let’s go eat now.”

Isaac and Erica left together. They couldn’t go too far away but far enough to leave the damn circus tent. If they walked an inch more than a mile off the perimeter, their bracelets would cause their blood-vessels to explode, due to the high voltage and they would very well be dead or worse, become the new Freak Show. The others still had shows left to perform and would possibly meet up later.

“What are we going to eat? I can’t stomach another falafel. We ate those too many” Erica told Isaac. “I do want to eat something meaty, maybe burgers?” Erica’s eyes sparkled.
“I don’t mind me some juicy meat.”

They got some burgers from the first food stand they found. They munched on their burgers in complete silence, while heading back towards their room or cage, it depends on what you’d define their living space. Standing in front of the circus tent Erica sighed, “Welcome home,” she said sarcastically. Isaac just looked sad and huffed. They stepped inside watching Allison heading towards a well known room.

“I guess the next act is up.” Erica and Isaac shrugged and continued to the common room.




A brown haired man yelled, “Who the hell do you think you are?” he spat on the floor. The young woman snorted.
“Peter, you know I can cause you a lot of pain,” Allison replied. She held a remote that could trigger the bracelet that Peter was wearing, he and a lot of the other residents of the circus who were within the device’ range would get a very painful shock. Peter looked at Allison.

“You do realize, that I am a pack Alpha and can rip your throat out in a heartbeat?” He looked down upon this hunter female. “You haven’t even lost your diaper yet, girl,” he snickered. Allison looked at him coldly.
“You know what act is next, so change into the Alpha, wolf,” Allison commanded. Peter snivelled, “You honestly expect that I would listen to a petty girl like you? You cannot control me.”
“I will use this,” Allison threatened. Peter looked at her with disregard, “Go ahead, you wouldn’t even dare to do it.” Her fingers wrapped closer around the remote. Allison’s index finger was resting on the button. “I am going to ask you one more time, Peter,” she replied.

“Alright, alright, I was only pestering you. Ladies these days.” Peter started to shift. As the Alpha he changed differently than others. He would not become a half wolf half man. He’d turn fully into a wolf. When the transformation was complete he let out a mighty howl. His red eyed gaze on Allison.

 “You hear that ladies and gentlemen? Our beast has awakened.” The ringmaster was making the crowd excited. The roar that came from backstage, riled the audience up even more. Allison peeked through the curtains while the ringmaster did his job. She grabbed a whip that hung to the side. A guardsman was keeping eye on Peter with the remote. If he would even think of charging at Allison, the guardsman would not hesitate to press the button. Two clowns rolled up a few rings, and two torches on holders. Little did the audience know that the rings were drenched in gasoline. Sadly Peter did.

“Are you ready for the show?” The announcer yelled.

Peter could see the ringmaster on stage. He quite liked that fellow, he was creepy and weird but also funny. The ringmaster wore colourful pointy shoes. His bottom half was covered in a wide red velvet pants.

“The choice of his clothes could be better.”

But the part that Peter liked the most was his face. The ringmasters face was marred by unknown reason. The ringmaster always had the Chelsea grin plastered on his face. It scared most of the staff, but Peter had an appreciation for it. The man always seemed happy.

“Let’s go dogboy,” Allison said to Peter. She walked out onto the stage with a proud face and waved at the audience. Allison grabbed the microphone from the announcer.

“Are you ready to see a show?! We have a beast so ferocious, not even lions could dare to eat him. Not even a bear would dare to fight it. We bring you…La Chupacabra.”
The audience gasped as Peter walked onto the stage.

Chupacabra my ass, humans are so blind, he thought to himself. He let out a mighty roar as was expected of him. Allison cracked the whip on the floor a few times. The giant wolf had to leap through the hoops and sometimes even do flips through the highest one. Once in a while, Allison would order him to sit.

Like the mangy dog you are, she thought.

He really hated the part that came next. Allison was making the crowd excited. She grabbed one of the torches and started lighting the hoops on fire.

Let’s hope I only get burned twice.

He did not have difficulty jumping the lower hoops. Then Allison made him do a flip through the highest one. During the flip he burned his paw on the ring. Fuck, Peter howled. He limped a little and tried to stand on his paw. Allison cracked the whip. An evil smirk was plastered on her face. He growled at her and she shook her head. She mouthed the words “Zap, zap”. Peter straightened and did what she said. After the Hale fire, Peter never liked to be around flames. Quite logically due to what had happened. After a few more flips and two more burns, his part was played. He now crouched beside Allison as the crowd cheered. She walked back stage and he followed. While they were cleaning up the stage and preparing the next act, Peter changed into himself again.

“I hate my life.”





Sitting on the gritty concrete, the young male had his eyes closed. His face a mask of complete calmness. The only sound in the dark room coming from a broken pipe, water dripping down the wall. Leaving an ugly stain down its path, the air becoming humid.
All of a sudden the steel door opened and blindingly bright light filled the room.

With a roar the male stood up, eyes glowing a vibrant red. Though his shackles yanked him right back into his former position. His wrists and ankles aching from the sudden rough movement.

“Tsk tsk, you would think that you’d know better than that by now.” A female voice broke the silence.

Approaching him on her high heels she came to a halt right in front of him, flipping her hair back. She bent down and levelled him with a smirk.
“Time for your act darling,” she said in the sweetest tone as she caressed his cheek.

Defiant scarlet eyes glared back though the male flinched at her touch and cast his face away. He had been holding his breath the entire time she was standing near him. Her touch felt like she had poured hot lava down his throat.
The female burst out in laughter as she straightened herself.

“Still sensitive are we?” She said while she strode back towards the entrance.
Motioning for one of the guards she leaned back against the doorway, “Take his shackles off, we have a heart-warming performance yet to see,” she said with a sinister look.

The guard nodded his head and approached the young male. The second the young male was freed he advanced towards the female. Growling while his human features shape shifted into something resembling a wolf. However before he could do any damage, the female had a small black device in her hand.

“Ah, ah!” She shook her head while waving the small device at him. “You know the rules. Come any closer and I’ll have half of this circus on their knees,” she said smiling while she took a step closer to him.
“They will all be hurting because of you,” she whispered into his ear.

The male went rigid, pupils blown wide from shock. Choking on air. He had felt it before. When his packmates had been electrocuted, he couldn’t put any of them through that again. Defeat painting his features as he hung his head low and took several deep breaths to calm himself.

After seeing his reaction she turned on her heels with a satisfied maniacal grin splitting her face almost in two.
It made her resemble the Joker.

“Walk!” The guard behind him spat as he pushed him into motion.

Feeling completely numb, he started down the hallway. The lights above him flickering on and off. These hallways he walked by always drenched with the smell of blood and pain. His packs’ blood. It was always his pack who were hurting. All because of him. By now his performance was nothing but a routine. He knew it by heart. However he would feel like he was choking every single time. Before every performance he would have a fit. He would wolf out and he’d ball his claws so tightly until blood would drip down his hands. Leaving a bloody trail of red drops behind him. He’d clench his teeth until his fangs would pierce through his gums, blood filling up inside of his mouth. The female snapped him out of his internal misery by snapping her fingers in his face.

“Shirt!” she pointed at him while tapping her foot impatiently.

Right, he knew the drill by heart. He took his shirt off, wearing nothing but tight dark brown leather pants.  He took the torch that was handed to him by the guard and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and then walked up the stage. Along the path he walked fire lit up the stage to both of his sides.
The crowd cheered at his entrance. Once he had reached the centre of the stage the two rows of fire subsided. The flask filled with kerosene was tucked safely in the back of his pants. Firstly he’d try to draw the complete attention of the audience by playing tricks with his torch. Spinning it around with one hand while half turning around, snatching his flask out of his pants and taking a good swig out of it before he’d turn around. His every movement was timed and had to be executed with precision. The second he had turned around to face the audience the stage was lit with fire once again, this time the fire rapidly surging through the stage, shaping a triskelion. With him standing in the middle of it. Waving his torch across the flames he brought it up and spit out the kerosene, holding his torch high in the air. The audience went nuts at the sight of him. His act would continue with him dancing around the triskelion shaped fire, while performing the rest of his fire breathing act. He took a bow and thanked the audience for coming to see. Roses being thrown down at his feet.

Once the curtains on stage closed on him, his knees buckled and he fell to the ground. He was doubled over coughing up blood. The kerosene always dripped slightly down his throat when he inhaled for air. The fire had spread through his throat, burning the kerosene he just had swallowed. On the outside he was trying to compose himself. Because the show had to go on! Now his lungs were filled with smoke and tears were rolling down his cheeks. He claws at his throat. The pain of his literally burnt lungs driving him up the wall. He keeps on clawing, trying to free himself from the hollowing feeling that is latching onto him. Its grip one of steel, keeping hold of him no matter how much or how deeply he claws. The smoke keeps on filling his lungs. He is tasting once again blood on his tongue. He feels the hot wetness that’s running down his throat making its way down his torso. It feels like he is on fire.

Then he is back looking around the smoke-filled living room. While the roof and walls are crumbling down around him. Fire is eating away at his surroundings like a savage beast. He’s crawling his way to the stairs. To the shrieks in pure agony. But once he’s able to set a foot on the first couple of steps the next one crumbles from under his feet and he falls through it. Cutting his legs and sides open. ‘MOM!’ he yells in vain. His voice is being drowned out by the crashing sounds around him. With a growl he pushes himself through the hole he’s stuck in. The smoke filling his lungs is becoming too much. He can’t concentrate, he has to keep going. He can’t breathe. He can’t see. But the screams are so loud! He still cannot believe what he’s seeing. This can’t be happening! Those are the screams from the ones he’d die for. His every instinct urging him to fight and protect. Derek would without doubt give his life for theirs. Because those are the ones who know they’re in his heart. Only now here they are hurting and literally burning because of him. He crawls towards the front door thinking that his parents are upstairs but now that his head hits the wooden floor with a thud, he can hear them clearly. He can hear and smell them, burning alive in the basement. Derek needs to stand up. Has to save them! It is all his fault! All this time how couldn’t he not see! How could he be so blind! That was when he blacked out.

When he opened his eyes, he noticed that he's being dragged through the hallways. He jostled around, for a second too captivated in his memory, though then he felt the familiar pain of electricity surging through his body and he blacked out. Knowing he has hurt his pack once again. The screams and cries from his past still vivid in his memory.

The young male is being dragged into his ‘room’ once again. The guardsman putting the shackles once again on him. Entrapping him inside his room. The guardsman walks away only to meet Kate Argent, who motions for him to leave. The sound of high heels echo’s off the walls as Kate walks into the room, which is only lit for the moment the only source of light coming from behind the steel door. She crouches down beside the unconscious body. He’s drenched in his own blood. His neck is healing at a slow rate. For a moment she’d thought he’d actually manage to kill himself. Poor bastard. His bracelet which would not only ensure that he could be tracked and neutralized wherever he went, was also laced with wolfsbane. The dosage was enough that it would prevent the werewolves from healing too quickly. Or being at their strongest.

“You fool!” She ground out angrily at the unconscious heap in front of her.

She had been forced to take his bracelets off. Which hadn’t been easy, at all. Though if she hadn’t taken it off he would have died from the loss of blood.
Kate took the bracelet out of her back pocket and locked it around his left wrist. The second the inside of it touched flesh, its razor sharp studs punctured into his flesh and it clicked right into place. The studs puncturing through flesh and bone.
At that he surged awake, eyes flashing red as he looked terrified around him before his eyes came to rest on Kate’s.

“You didn’t think I’d let you die so easily now did you, Derek?” She purred at him and stood up. Without waiting for his answer she left closing the door behind her.

Just like that Derek was back into his former position once again. Caged inside a dark room, which rank of his blood.
He had been selfish, again. If he hadn’t jostled when he had come to then his packmates wouldn’t have been electrocuted.





A feral growl erupted through the underground system of hallways. Something was being slammed against the steel door from the inside out. The werewolf trapped inside could feel his packmates hurting, mentally. Not a second later a jolt of electricity went through him, again, his body convulsing from the effects of the shock. His heartbeat accelerating and sweat breaking down his neck. He knew, could feel it in his gut, that it had been his Alpha who had been hurting and because of it, had been punished as well. The thought of having to ‘perform’ was driving him livid. He wasn’t a fucking freak show. He couldn’t sit back any longer while he was being used to entertain bunch of low lives, who were too ignorant to see that they are the real animals. The real freak show was the world outside this fucked up circus. His pack being tortured and held captivated just so the public could feed their sadomasochism bullshitty needs. His wolf craving to cause mayhem, its rage gnawing at him to do something and there was no way he’d let anyone stop him. He didn’t give a damn what anyone else would think. He was going to do this even if it was going to be the death of him. He transformed into his beta form and launched himself at the door. His fist colliding loudly against the door that held him captive, again and again. All the while voices in his head saying that he is not good enough. Not good enough to be a werewolf, not good enough to ever have his rightful place in the pack, not good enough for his parents to keep him. His wolf  snarling urging him that this is his chance, his last chance to get out, to be free. To become something someone could be proud of. Something someone could give a damn about. That it mattered to someone whether he was alive or dead, even if it was just one person. That’s when the door slammed open, him falling back on the floor, staring at the face of the guardsman. Before he knew it the guardsman was on him, grabbing him by his collar and his fist collided with the beta’s face and again and again. Blood spilled down his features, his eyes wide from fright.

“That will be your first and last warning,” the guardsman spit out.

Before he could walk away the beta got up to his feet and launched himself at the guardsman from behind. Locking his arms around the guardsman’s neck. The guardsman tried to lift the beta off his feet while struggling for air. Bending himself forward to unbalance the beta. His hands clawing at the beta’s arms. But the tight hold of his attacker’s arms didn’t loosen around his throat. The guardsman pushed himself against the wall, trapping the beta behind him while he tried to crush the attacker between himself and the concrete wall. The beta’s head slammed into the wall, warm liquid flowing down the nape of his neck. For a second the beta’s hold loosened and the guardsman elbowed him in the side, once, twice. The beta’s face was dripping blood, his nose was broken, his left eye was black and swollen almost shut. Yet, he didn’t give up the fight. He used every bit of strength he had left, pushing both of his feet against the wall for leverage and snapped the guardsman’ neck. The tall struggling body of the guardsman struggled a second longer before it went limp in his arms. Both men slumped down the wall. The beta throwing the body off of him as he took in a shaky breath. He had never killed anyone before. Never so much as hurt anyone, not physically.

“What’s taking you so long?” Kate Argent’s voice shook him out of the silence he had fallen into. His eyes snapped open.
“What the..” Kate’s voice was so loud in the dead silence room.
“Security!” She hissed as she looked behind her and waved for her men. She approached him. Fixing his gaze on him with loathing eyes.
“You are lucky you’re up next because this little hero act is going to cost you,” she spoke through clenched teeth and took a hold of his hair, her nails digging into the flesh of his skull.

“By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be begging to be put down like the little bitch you are,” she spat. Guardsmen rushed in the room the second she left. The only reason she hadn’t zapped him was because he already looked like shit and felt even worse. The shocks from before and the fight he had put up had taken a severe toll on his strength and energy. His healing was off due to the bracelet, allowing him to heal and get his strength back up gradually. Another shock and he would go unconscious. The beta braced himself as he was being shoved out of the door and into the hallway. Once walking down the hallway he could smell the pain and suffering of his packmates. It was so overwhelming he could almost taste it. Holding his breath he walked the rest of the way. Once at the staircase which would lead to the stage, a sword was shoved into his hands and he was pushed up the stairs. Before he had taken a step forward though a hand snatched his shirt from behind, yanking him almost off the staircase. Turning around he was met by Kate, who leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“In case you didn’t notice, which let’s be honest you’re too dense to have, the sword is thickly laced with wolfsbane. If you thought not being zapped back there was your luck trying to finally make a show, you thought wrong.” Kate smiled and gave him a shove.

The beta stumbled his way up the stairs. The staircase he had to take was a different one from the others. His led to the hatchway placed in the centre of the stage. Due to the loud music overhead he didn’t have to worry about being as quiet as he could while entering. Opening the hatchway he walked up the stage right inside of a massive rusty, black birdcage. With its door hanging off its hinges. Once he had taken his stance, fire lit in a circle around the cage, entrapping him inside of it. The audience cheered loudly at the sight of this new act but all the beta could hear was his heart pounding inside his ribcage. His blood running cold at the thought of what he had to endure next. Tears filled up his eyes as he started his performance. It existed of balancing the sharp tip of the sword on his index finger and then tossing it into the air and catching it with his teeth. His lips scorched at the touch of it. The wolfsbane searing into his flesh. Fortunately the pace of his performance didn’t allow for a long contact with the sword. Not yet. The beta swallowed hard as he took a firm hold of the sword, flaunting it around for everyone to see before he raised it high in the air, cocking his head back and opening his mouth. For the first couple of inches the swallowing of the sword didn’t hurt but the second it went deeper and came in touch with his flesh, a scorching pain made its way down his throat. Making him almost choke on it. Despite the nauseating pain and blood flowing freely inside his throat he finished his act. He couldn’t quite remember when or how he managed to finish his act. Partially he knew he must have gone into some state of shock at some point. Because his body had gone numb and everything had become a big blur.

The circle of fire had spit so high that it had reached the top of the cage and right at that moment the beta had fallen through the hatchway, down the staircase. The sword clattering on the ground as he lay there on the ground. Guardsmen dragged his body away. The beta was tossed into the so called cafeteria. Where all the other performers had gathered. Including the Alpha. Which wasn’t an usual thing. Something was about to happen, something bad.

“Jackson!” Derek hissed at the sight of him.

All the guardsman were standing tall at their posts all around the cafeteria. There wasn’t any sight of Kate or Allison just yet. The tension inside the room could be cut with a knife. Jackson, the beta, glared at the Alpha. What the actual fuck had he to be mad about? Derek was on him within a, blurry, blink. Grabbing him by his collar and fixing him with an enraged look.

“We.Don’t.Kill.Humans!” He growled at the beta, punctuating each word.
Jackson scoffed, “they’re not humans!” He yelled. “They’re fucking hunters and they deserve to be killed off!”
“You know that’s utter bullshit! The guardsmen don’t do jack! It’s the Argents you dense idiot!” The Alpha yelled right back.
“It makes no difference! You’re too shitty of an Alpha to see that!” Jackson spat out.
Derek had his fist raised and was ready to hit Jackson smack in his face before they were interrupted by Kate with Allison by her side. The entire cafeteria had gone rigid at the scene in front of them.

“Fighting each other like animals, what a surprise,” Kate snorted as she approached the both of them.
“Well, well. Don’t worry this little gathering is to be considered a lesson in what will happen if any of you rabid dogs decides to take matters into your own claws,” she said with a crooked smile. Walking right up to Jackson, she yanked towards her by his neck. Grabbing a vial in the form of a necklace from around her neck, she opened it and poured its contents into Jackson’s eye. Jackson trashed and cried out inhumanly from pain. Derek moved to launch himself at Kate but only to be pinned down to the ground by two arrows, an electric cord attached to each’ end. Sending wave after wave of electricity through the Alpha’s body.   

“That’ll be enough.” Chris Argent his cool voice coming from behind Allison. The older Argent approached his sister.
“Apparently none of our regular lessons taught this one a thing. Figured this might be an improvement.” Kate smiled up at her brother. However her smile quickly faltered at the disapproving look her brother gave her. Kate turned on her heels, letting Jackson drop to his knees and fixing on her brother with a glare.

“He killed one of our men and if our code is anything to go by he should be slashed in half right now. Not merely blinded,” she hissed, putting both her hands on her hips aggravated.
“You sure you want to have a discussion about the code?” Chris his voice had a chilling tone to it, as he gazed at his sister with inquiring eyes.

Kate’s posture went rigid but she quickly resumed herself and without a further word walked away. The Alpha’s eyes were shining crimson as he looked straight into Chris’ eyes. It seemed like this had been a matter everyone up until now had avoided. Always walking on eggshells when it came to the code abiding hunters. Once Kate had left the scene, Chris motioned for the nearest guard to clean up the mess in front of him. He then approached the Alpha, kneeling down.

“A word,” Chris said as he reached out and took each arrow out of his flesh. Derek nodded, his face contorted from pain. Nonetheless he got back on his feet, perhaps a little staggering, and followed Chris. Chris headed back to his place, which was outside the circus, with Derek following suit. Following a gravel path into the surrounding woods. Chris halted in front of a two story lodge cabin. Grabbing his necklace out from under his uniform, it had a key card attached to it. He swiped his key card which opened the first lock. A small metal box slid open, showing an eye scanner. Stepping in front of the scanner, Chris waited until the red laser turned green. Opening up the door to his cabin. What was supposed to be Chris’ humble cabin looked more grand and luxurious than anything else. With its rustic and contemporary interior design it felt like home to the man. Not just a temporary one at that. They walked inside entering the living room, on their right the attached bar slash dining area.

“Sit,” Chris pointed at one of the chairs at the bar. Derek obliged and slowly sat himself down, eying Chris cautiously. Chris walked to the kitchen and grabbed the vegetables he had been about to cook before he had gotten word of Kate’s latest actions. Grabbing a chopping block from the counter he walked to the bar Derek was seated at and placed it across from the Alpha. Grabbing the vegetables and knife next, he walked over and started chopping.
“What is it you wanted to talk to me about? Or did you walk me here to be tortured by the sight of vegetables?” Derek started, getting more agitated by each passing second. The corner of Chris’ mouth twitched as he put down the knife. Looking up at Derek.

“It has always seemed like a tragedy when a wolf gets slaughtered, if said wolf was innocent. Though you and I both know that that’s not the case when it comes to your newest beta, Jackson,” Chris picked up his knife again and started his chopping.
“You have been with us for over a decade Derek, therefore you know I’m a man who follows the hunter code. If a man doesn’t have codes to follow, then what is he left with?” It was a rhetorical question.

Derek fisted his hands as anger rolled off of him in waves.
“What code does your sister follow, because to me it seems her sanity isn’t with her.” Derek’s eyes shone crimson once again.
“It was never my objective for someone to get killed, Derek. What Kate did was a disgrace to the code, though I am not the one accountable for her actions. If anything, I did everything in my power to prevent the Hale fire from happening the second it was brought to my attention.”

“I didn’t bring you here to walk you down memory lane. You’re the Alpha therefore it is your duty to rein in your betas. Unlike me, you can and will be held accountable for your betas actions.” Chris grabbed a beetroot and fixed on Derek with an unfathomable look.

“Jackson isn’t innocent and it’s not only him who has blood on his hands. Fix it or I will promise you it will be fixed,” He said emphasizing it with a loud thud as he chopped the beetroot in two, it’s juice slowly painting the chopping block blood red. Derek got up so rapidly, he’d nearly pushed over the chair he’d sat on. His teeth clenched together tightly.

“If Alli gets a word about what happened at the Hale fire, our next conversation won’t be as much civilized,” Chris warned. “Now, if you’d excuse yourself I have other things to get back to.” Chris dismissed  him as he grabbed a towel and gently swiped his hands clean. Pulling out his cell phone. The Alpha left the house without further ado. Dialling Allison’s number Chris, told his daughter to come home and put her training with Kate off for the day.

Chapter Text

A Young man was gazing out of his two story high window. His arms were folded behind his back. Beyond his window lay a big garden with a terrace. It was mostly a field of grass that was being kept up by his gardener. He hardly left his office anyway. The young man turned away from the window and walked towards his desk. His desk was made of mahogany wood. On his desk sat a monitor, a stack of paperwork he yet had to read and a picture of his parents. His mother had passed away when he had been very young, and his dad died not long after.

I owe you a lot dad, if it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t have had this success.

He sat down in his spinning deckchair. Regardless of the money he owned, these kind of chairs were what he liked the most. The stack of papers had to be read, but he couldn’t summon the concentration for it. He looked at his dad’s picture again. The picture of his father always remembered him of that dreadful night when he had lost him. Lost in thought, he wandered back to that time where his father got murdered. His dad was patrolling the streets, as he usually did when being on the night shift.

"Dispatch, everything is clear," the Sheriff said. A response came in by radio. "We have three escaped convicts, be careful."

Sheriff Stilinski took a sip of his coffee. "Roger that, dispatch." His watchfulness grew. The sheriff’s hands tightening around the steering wheel as he put the car in gear. Sadly he did not see what was awaiting him. When he turned the corner a gun went off. His car screeched and he came to a sudden stop. The gunshot was deafening to the sheriff’s ears. Taking cover behind his car, he inspected the area.

"Dispatch, there was gunfire in sector I-24." He looked around cautiously.
"Roger that, we’re sending reinforcements, lay low Sheriff."

Moments after, he felt a gun being put to his head. The radio transmission had given away his position. Sheriff Stilinski’s heart rate shot through the roof. His breathing turning to wheezes.

"You don’t have to do this," he said to the unknown person. A grunt was heard behind him, but no actual voice. The trigger was pulled and a deafening sound was heard. A bullet was shot straight through Sheriff Stilinski’s chest, piercing the heart. Blood spatters of the impact were slathered across the police vehicle. The Sheriffs body sagged against the car and slammed to the ground. The perpetrator walked away, leaving the dead body behind. A pool of blood slowly appearing.


Stiles had been in his room playing video games, when the news reached him. Stiles hadn’t been able to properly work through his mother’s death and now his father had been murdered. His entire world came crashing down. Stiles lay down in his bed, in a catatonic state. For days he was inconsolable. Scott tried visiting, but Stiles did not open the door. Even Lydia visited him, to no avail. Lydia had called Scott a day before the funeral of Sheriff Stilinski. Somehow she had gotten her hands on a key to the front door. Together they went upstairs and found Stiles in bed. Scott lifted him up and dragged him to the shower, where Lydia turned on the cold water facet. Together they silently took off his clothes. Rolling his sleeves up Scott then proceeded to grab the bottle of shampoo and massage it through his friend’s hair while Lydia kept Stiles upright. Gently, yet without making things awkward they managed to get Stiles all cleaned up. Stepping out of the shower, Lydia embraced Stiles into a towel as Scott dried his hair with another. They talked to him, trying to get him from his catatonic state. Nothing really helped until Lydia slapped him.

"Stiles! Honey, I know nothing I can say or do will make anything better but you have to keep it together, at least until the funeral is over." Lydia whispered softly, her own eyes tearing at the pain of her friend.

"Come on bro, let’s get you dressed," Scott tried as he took Stiles’ arm and guided him towards his bedroom. Lydia grabbed a towel to dry herself somewhat, seeing both she and Scott were soaked. After cleaning up the bathroom she quickly made her way towards the late sheriff’s bedroom, closing the door. The house that once had been filled with laughter and happiness now felt cold and utterly empty. Deciding to give the boys some privacy Lydia made her way down the stairs and headed for the kitchen. The refrigerator was packed with consolation food. The sight made her tear up again. How was Stiles supposed to get through this? The kid had gone out his way to take the utter most care of his father after his mother had passed away. Always looking after his father first and himself second. Stiles had always been there for everyone he cared for and never once did he ask anything in return. Lydia never once gave anyone the impression she cared for the kid, despite his obvious crush on her. Though deep down she truly did care for him. So much that she knew she wasn’t the right person for him to love. Stiles deserved someone who loved him unconditionally. With a passion that would leave him speechless. They stayed with Stiles that night and made sure he ate and got a proper night’s rest. By morning he was somewhat cleaned up for the funeral of his dad. Scott and Lydia guided him to the funeral. Both of them not leaving his side once.

The funeral took place on the Beacon Hills cemetery. Sheriff Stilinski had purchased the plot next to his wife. So he would be buried there as well. After the service, Lydia and Scott stayed with him for a while. They didn’t leave until Stiles fell asleep in his bed. Lydia soundlessly crept onto his bed and embraced him as she gently caressed his hair. Making sure he wouldn’t wake up all alone. She’d be there and hold him, making sure to wake him up if he were to wake up distraught by any nightmares. Scott didn’t leave his friend either. He sat himself down at the desk chair and fell asleep while watching over his best friend. 

Stiles dreamt of his town, Beacon Hills. The city was overrun by escaped convicts in disguise. Though only he could see them, the policemen patrolling the town could not. He watched as people got hurt and murdered. Trying everything in his power to stop them but it was all in vain.It frightened him so much, that he woke up plastered in sweat.

"What in the hell was that," he whispered out loud. Swiping the sweat from his forehead. It was 2:30 am on the alarm clock, and he couldn’t sleep, not after this dream. Stiles his mind was raging with thoughts. He looked around and saw that Scott had fallen asleep in his desk chair. The desk lamp was left on. To his shock Lydia was laying next to him, Lydia of all people. Stiles couldn’t  believe it. But taunting thoughts crept back into his mind.

Why couldn’t I have helped my father? Somebody should have tracked the bastards before they killed my dad. What can I do?

An idea crawled into his ADD filled mind. He sat down on his floor and started drawing sketches of prototypes. His desk was soon littered with pieces of paper, containing scribbles of his thoughts. With a new-found resolve, he worked on his ideas whenever he had the time. Stiles would make sure, that no convict, would ever be able to escape from the armed forces. Stiles always had been a wizz-kid and he fidgeted with technology a lot. The man who killed his father, was supposedly one of the escaped convicts. He set out to devise something that would make them easier to track. To see that the scum could be back faster to where they belonged, without hurting anyone. Stiles had made a tracker-type bracelet. It had two functions. The first function allowed to track the escaped convict via satellite. The second was a build-in taser to safely neutralize the threat from a certain distance. The bracelet was meant only to protect others from dangerous people. Stiles truly believed it would only be used that way. He didn’t see how others could abuse the bracelet for evil deeds. Stiles made sure it couldn’t be used that way. He installed a safety switch. The switch would prohibit multiple use of the bracelet. It had a twelve hour timer, and after those twelve hours it would be usable again.



The creation of the bracelet had been huge. The U.S government soon found out about Stiles’ little project. They had decided to buy the merchandise from him. Due to the amount of prisoners, Stiles got rich very fast. Rapidly thereafter other countries and nations wanted the same merchandise.

Six years later, Stiles now owns one of the biggest companies in the world. His rating on the stock market high, as well as the multiple digits on his bank account. The company that Stiles had build was a triple tiered company. There were three layers of authority. The board of directors were the top of the food chain. Stiles naturally owned more than half of the company, so he could have a monopoly position. The other parts were divided between Lydia, Scott, Danny and some anonymous investors. Below that was the board of managers. Representatives of the directors board set out to do the tasks given to them. They divided the work and told the third layer what had to be done. The third layer were the people managing the manufacturing and shipping areas. They made sure the workers did their jobs and they oversaw workplaces. The main office was in New York. The board of managers was stationed there. The board of directors tended to work in different places. Stiles usually worked from out of his mansion. He liked it that way. If Scott, Lydia or Danny needed him, they simply would call him or visit him there.

Speaking of, he had an appointment scheduled with Scott and Lydia. They would be over soon.




Lydia strode into Stiles’ office, Scott stumbling after her, holding all of their folders, Lydia’s Ipad and his own Macbook. Lydia placed Stiles’ coffee in front of him and took a sip from her own while sitting across from Stiles. Once seated she quirked an eyebrow at Scott who was barely holding onto the stuff in his arms, couple of pages scattered across the floor from out of the folders.

“Oh, for the love of-,” she sighed as she stood up and took the folders from out of Scott’s hands and placed her Ipad on the desk in front of her. Sitting down she clacked her tongue, “You going to take those papers today or shall we reschedule this appointment until tomorrow?”

Scott looked confused as hell while he quickly proceeded to gather his stuff together. It wasn’t his fault that he had to carry everything!
“You know you’re not my boss right?” Scott grounded out agitated.

“Hmm..” Lydia didn’t bother to argue further. Causing Scott to get all the more frustrated. There were days Scott could strangle the woman but without her neither one of them would be where they were now. Both of them focused on Stiles when he cleared his throat and started their little meeting.

“Welcome guys,” he yapped cheerily. “We have to wait for Danny, he’ll be calling soon.” Stiles looked at Scott and Lydia with a goofy smirk. Lydia was filing her nails avidly, while Scott was texting.
“How have you been guys? Haven’t seen you in two whole days.” Stiles acted exuberant as always. “I myself, have laid luxuriously in my king-sized bed, all by myself. Someone wouldn’t join me,” he teased Lydia. She just snorted in return, not looking up from her nails. A beeping sound came from Stiles’ computer. It was Danny Mahealani calling via Skype.

“Welcome to this fine meeting Danny, got any booty last night?” Stiles asked, wiggling his eyebrows. Lydia rolled her eyes at the idiot in front of her.

“Hello to you too, Stiles,” Danny said smiling. “And that is none of your business. Let’s just talk about the business for now, we’ll possibly chitchat later.”

“Scott, honey who are you trying to kid with your texting? We all know you don’t have a life besides us,” Lydia smirked. Scott made a whining sound in the back of his throat while putting his phone away.




Four hours and a headache later the three of them walked out of Stiles’ office. Stiles saying something about having forgotten about some of his files and therefore walked back. Lydia and Scott said their goodbye’s and left the mansion.
As much as Lydia loved to get on Scott’s nerves and outsmart him, which was so easy it wasn’t even fun any more, she placed a gentle kiss on his cheek and told him goodbye. Approaching her Chrysler Crossfire cabrio, keys clutched in her hand, she glanced back towards the mansion. For a second lost in Memory Lane.

During her first year of college Lydia, Danny and Scott had funded Stiles’ prototype. All three of them had been supportive of Stiles. Lydia and Danny both knew the kid could be very smart, if he’d ever put his ADD mind  to work and shut his mouth for longer than two minutes. Lydia using her, at the time, trust fund to invest in Stiles’ prototype. Danny being the more technical guy helped Stiles cover those bases. As for Scott, he had given the money he had saved from all the years working at the animal shelter.

The murder on Stiles’ father had taken a great toll on him, leaving him all alone. During that time of grief Scott, Lydia and Stiles had grown very close. Becoming somewhat a family of their own. However, there  never came an end to Stiles’ grief, not really. He had thrived with all sorts of ideas. Scott and Lydia knew their friend would probably never be the same and supported him during whatever phase he was going through. Even if one of those phases had been the insane idea of creating a device to track and neutralize criminals. So, along with Danny’s money and their own they had funded Stiles’ prototype. Hoping that some good came out of it and perhaps it would give Stiles some sort of closure.

After graduating at Harvard University, Lydia Martin had been approached by her old High School classmate, Stiles Stilinski. With his new found high-tech device, Stiles’ fortune had grown rapidly reaching the peaks of the stock market. The young lad had offered Lydia the position she earned as one of his top directors. Which would put her on the supervisory board of the quickly growing corporate due to her earlier investments. It hadn’t seemed like it at first but their little funding had grown into full blown fortune as the device took the nation by surprise. Other corporations, prisons, military all wanting the newly technology brought to the market. The three of them kept investing into Stiles’ growing company and soon it went worldwide. Becoming one of the biggest corporations in the world that provided the most sought after technology.  

Lydia had moved from Beacon Hills to New York, considering the leading corporation was in NYC.
Day in day out, Lydia would be on top of everything. Even though they had assigned each different division to its rightful workers. She would be there to oversee everything and write a daily report on their progress, workers and so on and send it to Stiles.






After the meeting with Stiles and Lydia, Scott drove to his mother’s house. Once a week he would visit his mom to make sure she was doing okay and to see whether she needed anything. It wasn’t as if she ever really needed anything from him, besides mowing the lawn, but after Stiles’ dad had passed away it had had a major influence on his own relation with his mom. She’d always tell him that he worried too much and that she’d be fine. She had raised him all by herself while working shifts at the hospital, she could handle herself. Though he knew that she did appreciate him stopping by every week.

During his high school years Scott never managed to rank any higher than warming the benches at Lacrosse.  Due to his asthma that was as far as he’d gotten. Although he did keep his part-time job working for the veterinarian, Dr. Deaton. For whom he continued working for even after high school.
He grew more and more invested in his job but due to the lack of a scholarship he couldn’t afford to get into college. He wasn’t going to let his stand-alone mom finance it either. Thinking back on it, the Sheriff’s death had been a changing point for the whole lot of them. Investing his hard earned money into Stiles’ prototype had seemed like a major risk at the time. However, Scott trusted his best friend with his life and supported him with everything. Becoming an unquestioningly loyal comrade. Only to have all four of them being pleasantly surprised when Stiles’ sketches and ideas came to life. To have it growing rapidly into one of the most wanted merchandise in the entire nation.

Being honoured to have his rightful place beside his best friends in a still-growing company opened up a lot of doors for Scott. Unthinkable opportunities were now  his for the picking. Consulting with his mom Scott came to the decision to leave his job at the local animal shelter behind and pursue the education he had never dreamt of having. Leaving Beacon Hills, Scott moved to the campus of UC Davis School of Veterinary Medicine. During those years Lydia had been overseeing his division at the corporation, along with help from Danny.  For that he’d forever be indebted to the two of them. After graduation Scott moved back to his old home town, living couple of blocks away from his mother’s house. Since then he had been working under the title of veterinarian at the animal shelter Dr. Deaton once had run and kept a watchful eye on his division, from his office at home. Considering Beacon Hills wasn’t all that grand it allowed for him to have plenty of time to uphold his part of the job at the firm.

After his visit to his mother’s house Scott drove back home. Unlocking the front door Scott was greeted by the giant white fur ball that barked and jumped at him excitedly.

“Hey there,” Scott smiled cheerfully as he lifted the pup into his arms. The rescued Samoyed pup he had adopted lapped at his face with affection. Grabbing the pup’s leash Scott took his baby for a walk.

Chapter Text

Leaving the cafeteria behind Kate strode out of the circus, Allison following her closely. Although she was not saying a word, Kate could hear the wheels inside her head turning as the frown on her niece’s head deepened the further they got. Halting in her steps Kate gazed at her niece, “Okay, spit it out,” she encouraged. Allison’s eyes met hers briefly before they dropped back to the ground, as if caught.

“It’s just,” she started in a small voice before she let out a deep breath and met her aunt face on. “What did my dad mean when he spoke of the code?” Her eyebrow quirked in question.

Kate smiled, her features softening. “The usual,” she shrugged and continued her way to the combat building. Once inside, Kate flicked the lights on. Showing a massive open space, heavily packed with combat equipment. This was where Kate learned her niece hand-to-hand combat tactics. Infiltration, strength, agility, how to blend in/on an unknown terrain and survive in the most hostile environment. Training Allison to hunt the born hunters. Preferring the use of archery rather than using guns and explosives, Allison was one of the few within the family to master archery. However, Kate and her brother preferred guns and explosives. They were trained the ways of gun assembly, explosives, assembly and disassembly of computers, hacking, engineering, high-tech technology and demolition at a young age. Gerard had never hesitated to train his two children by any means to become the ultimate hunters.    

“I still do not get how the ‘usual’ made us leave,” Allison continued. Obviously not backing down.
Kate’s smile became somewhat sinister as her entire posture changed.

“You are so sweet Allison but even you have to understand that we hunters have a code to follow. Which you have learnt about already, so quite frankly I don’t get where this questioning is coming from.” Kate tried changing the subject, hoping her niece would drop it.

Stepping closer to her aunt, Allison’s gaze became fierce not relenting, “What did my dad mean when he spoke of the code, specifically when it concerned you? Because your knowledge of the code is just as legit as mine.”

“It meant that he’s just as strict, uptight and thorough with following it as some hunters make believe. I’ve been in situations where under the circumstances, I had to look the other way. Not everything is as black and white as your father makes it seem.” Kate explained, her lips pursed into a thin line as she ended the conversation and walked towards the locker rooms. Before she had reached the girls locker however, Allison’s voice made her halt in her steps.

“Under what circumstances?”

Turning on her heels Kate levelled her niece with an unfathomable look, “Circumstances wherein my life was threatened and I was assaulted by someone I considered a friend,” Her voice took on a rough and shaky tone as she gazed down, hands clenching at her sides. “I was young and foolish. Foolish enough to think I had truly fallen in love with him.” Kate looked up, her eyes tearing up. Clearing her throat she resumed, “I believed that he would never dare to harm me despite the fact that he was a werewolf. He was born as one, so he promised vehemently that he could control himself no matter what.”

Silence dragged on until it became nerve wrecking before Kate seemingly found her voice. “Despite everything I had learnt about werewolves and the true monsters they are, I convinced and lied to myself that he was different. Different from the stories and the others of his kind. But one night after he sweet talked me into taking me to his place, promising on his life he’d protect me if his family members were to lose control, he set his own house on fire. Trying to kill me and his family alive.” Tears were now rolling down Kate’s pained features. Bracing herself as if she were to double over.

Gasping in shock, Allison swallowed her own tears as she ran towards her aunt, embracing her tightly. It took several tries before Allison could clear her throat, caressing her aunt’s back soothingly.
“I’m so sorry!” She rasped out, tears wetting her cheeks. “So sorry!” She repeated over and over while trying to soothe her aunt.

“He was insane! The entire time he had been planning on murdering his own family and I had fallen right into his murderous arms. While pouring gasoline all over his home, he went on and on about how perfect it all had become, that not only did he get to kill and rid himself from his family but a hunter as well.”

“He had locked his entire family inside the basement, telling them hunters were searching through their house and how he’d sacrifice himself up to save them. Luring the hunters away while they hid and therefore stayed safe. Making himself seem as the chivalrous, self sacrificing type.”

Allison had her hand clasped tightly in front of her mouth looking horrified and held on to her aunt for dear life.

“If Chris hadn’t showed up and gotten me out I would’ve died along with all the others trapped in there,” Kate sobbed. After a long pause, while trying to comfort Kate, Allison finally summoned the courage to ask, “What happened to him? Did he live?” She clenched her teeth tightly, her stare cold.

Shaking her head violently Kate tore her eyes away from Allison’s, “Father wanted revenge. He didn’t tell the entire turn of events to Chris, saving me from utter humiliation.”
“You have to promise me you will not say a word on this to your dad.” Kate pleaded. Allison nodded in absolute comprehension. At Allison’s promise Kate’s posture slacked slightly.

“Gerard, he wanted me to be able to avenge my suffering.”
“What,” Allison stuttered as she took a step back, her eyes searching her aunt’s. Resisting the urge to shake her, “What do you mean?” She finally asked.
“He’s here. Suffering through everything he put me through.” Kate’s eyes finally met Allison’s.

“Who is it?” Allison’s voice was so small it almost went unheard. A gut wrenching pain raging through her.


The buzzing of Allison’s phone shattered the spell of silence that had fallen upon the two females. Eying the small buzzing phone’s display it showed the callers ID, Chris Argent.
Kate watched as her niece tried to compose herself while conversing with her father. Afterwards they separated, Allison heading back to her father’s place.







Derek was seething as he started walking back towards the circus, the sound of the security camera’s turning told him that his every move was being monitored. The thought of Chris Argent telling him how to lead his pack was driving him mad. How could Jackson have been so reckless as to neglect the fact that Derek was his Alpha! That no matter what, he called the shots. Derek could care less about the man Jackson had killed, what he did care about were the consequences of Jackson’s deed. Most certainly how that course of action would surely influence the rest of their miserable lives. In this damned prison, to which there seemed no end.  

Up until now Derek had taught his pack how to control themselves, stand together if possible and try to bear the humiliation, tortures and imprisonment in order to survive.  Nonetheless, he knew most of his words went to deaf ears. His pack was made out of a bunch of neglected, if not already, abused teenagers. Needless to say that having Peter, another alpha, in his territory made his wolf aggressive, on the verge of turning feral at the sight of his uncle.

Walking down the hallways, Derek descended the rickety iron stair leading towards the pack’s chambers. Approaching Jackson’s, he came to a halt and motioned for the guard to open the door for him. Normally, Derek would instantly be locked up inside his chamber after his act. Though after today’s events and probably his talk with Chris there was a change in his privileges. If that was not one of the most pathetic things Derek had to endure throughout his imprisonment with the Argents, then he did not know what was. He truly was being treated like a caged animal, in every sense of the word. Despite his resentment for the hunters, the Argents and Kate specifically, his resentment for himself surpassed all. Derek despised and loathed himself, for everything was his fault. 

Most days he would feel detached from the world around him. Because it seemed too surreal to be true. There were days in which it seemed like everyone had forgotten all about him, where he would be denied of anything to eat or drink. Locked up and left behind. Though when he was on the verge of suffocating in anxiety, thoughts of being left to starve taunting his mind, the door would open, his shackles would be taken off and he’d be dragged out of his chamber. To be tossed into the showers, ice cold water hitting his weakened body with the force of a hailstorm meeting a tornado. By the time it would end Derek usually would be too numb and frozen to move. Even his supernatural body heat was nothing in comparison to the brute cold it had to endure. There were moments of pure bliss where he could swear he was out of his body. Watching, while it was being dragged and dressed, to finally be tossed into the cafeteria.

A couple of times his heart had almost stopped beating. Though death wasn’t granted to him. The guardsmen would rush him into their little infirmary and make sure to resuscitate him. Derek would wake up in the cradle of his uncle’s arms, terrified and mournful eyes gazing over his features and flooding with relieve when Derek would wake up. In those very few moments, just before his sanity would come back to him, before the realization of where they were would dawn in on him, Derek would feel safe. Despite his wolf howling, trying unforgivingly to remind him of what had happened, remind him that this was his territory that he was showing weakness in front of another alpha, another threat. Derek would bite back his rising panic and tune out the whimpers of his wolf and just let himself be held by his one and only family.

It remembered him of his years as a kid. When he would follow Laura, his older sister, into the woods and try his hardest to be just as good and graceful in everything she did. This one time Laura and he had found a wounded fox, bleeding over the forest floor. Its blood seeping through the leaves into the earth, tainting the air around it with the smell of death and decay. Despite his tough kid act, Derek’s eyes had blurred from unshed tears at the sight of the small fox. Up until then he had never felt so helpless and useless in his entire life. Laura had taken his hand and to his horror walked him up towards the little animal. She had sat him down and held both of their hands above the fox’s wound. Before young Derek could comprehend what it was that she was doing, he saw black vein like swirls move along her hand. That day she had taught him how to heal, using his own healing powers as a wolf to take the fox’s pain away, for it to be healed within his own body. Derek had never been so amazed by his sister before but ever since that day she had become the kind of person he wanted to grow up to be. They had run into their house, Derek bouncing on his feet with excitement as he told his parents about what they had accomplished. Peter had been there that day and he had held Derek up high above his head and patted him on his shoulder, telling him how proud he was of his nephew. How Derek was just an awesome wolf as his older sister.    

As the door to Jackson’s chamber was unlocked, Derek nodded at the guard and walked inside. Jackson’s eye was patched up, though it was clear it hadn’t healed yet, blood staining the gauze.At the sight of Derek Jackson scrambled back, his heart pounding erratically and his breathing becoming uneven. Derek sighed as he approached his beta and knelt down in front of him.

“Jackson, it’s okay I’m not here to put you through any more suffering,” Derek spoke softly. Despite his gentle tone Jackson’s body still tensed up. Eyes dilating, not believing a word Derek had spoken.

Letting out a deep breath Derek tried again, “Look I’m not going to lie and say I don’t have the urge to rip your throat out, be done with you and move on. But despite of how much of an arrogant, self centred idiot you seem to be half the time, you’re pack. My pack, which makes you my responsibility. And whatever you have done or decide to do, the results of those actions will be mine as well.” Derek clenched his teeth, sighing heavily as Jackson swallowed hard. It seemed like he was about to jump out of skin any moment.

 “You have got to get this through your thick skull because I will not be around forever. I want you to be able to carry on even when I am not around. I want you to search within yourself, to find your inner strength, listen to your instincts. No matter what you feel, you’re just as much human as wolf, so don’t ignore it. Don’t dismiss the part of yourself that’s there to protect you. Latch onto it and find the will to not give up. Do not dare to quit on your pack or on yourself, because we might be a lot of things but we are not quitters, we protect everyone who is pack. So instead of losing the will to battle and just let it all go, stand your ground and fight.” Derek had never held a speech that long in his entire life. But it was up to him to get his beta through this hell hole. It was up to him to become the best alpha he could be for his pack. He might have lost his family and his own will to live but he still has his pack. The one he created it himself. Derek no longer would stand by and watch his packmates get hurt and see them lose the will to survive.

Without warning Jackson had his arms around him, crushing him in his tight embrace. Derek’s entire posture went rigid at the touch. The salty scent of tears filled Derek’s senses. The stench of mortification and pain subduing, being replaced by a sense of safety. Derek hesitatingly lifted a hand and awkwardly patted Jackson on his shoulder.

“Thank you, Derek,” Jackson choked out in hoarse voice.

Even though Derek’s body was not up to it Derek still raised his hand and cradled the back of Jackson’s head, closing his eyes he started taking Jackson’s pain away. Derek’s body tensing at the pain he was taking on from his beta. Jackson stilled at the sensation at first, fear jolted through his body as he started to shake. Though once he had started to take a grasp on what actually was happening, he let out a long shaky breath and the slight tremors of his body stilled. Leaning into Derek’s touch as he closed his eyes.

Physically feeling worse than before, Derek left Jackson’s room. The guard, grudgingly, had to support Derek’s weight as he made his way towards his own room.
However fatigued he felt and despite the pain coursing through his body, claiming a hold on every muscle, spreading through every vain and artery until it seeped down into his bones, Derek mentally had not felt this relieved in a very long time. 








After what had happened at the cafeteria Isaac and Erica had returned to their rooms. If it hadn’t been for Erica holding him back, Isaac probably had gotten hurt one way or another as well. It had taken everything in him to stand by while his packmates were getting hurt, his Alpha! Even though Jackson had every right to kill off that son of a bitch of a guardsman, in the end it didn’t do them any favours. Despite Derek being Isaac’s Alpha and despite everything Derek had to put up with, Jackson had also been right about Derek being a shitty Alpha.

One night after Isaac had gotten himself into trouble during his first couple of days at the circus Derek had protected him. He had taken the beatings and punishments that were meant for him. Not long after Isaac’s stay had Derek offered him the bite. At the time, the newly turned Alpha had been in need of a pack. Derek had been taken to the circus two years before Isaac and Erica. If Derek weren’t to create a pack for himself he would fall to omega and with time become feral, or worse end up as an omega forced into Peter’s pack.

After explaining all the pros and cons of being a werewolf to Isaac, Isaac had agreed to the bite. Back then it had been a way to survive this place, the strict laws that had been forced upon them. Nonetheless Derek, in a way, had given him a new family. One he didn't need to run from. Despite Derek being his Alpha and an authority figure, he had never put a hand on Isaac. Surely he had raised his voice or barked out orders to keep the teen in check but it had never gotten out of control, not with Derek. Unlike Isaac’s father. Who had been the sole reason Isaac had run off to the circus in the first place. Ironic that this place was meant to be where he were to find his solace.

Erica and he had been attending the same high school. Erica had never caught his eye in his classes, she had always been the quiet yet ever present girl in the back of the classroom. There had not seemed anything extraordinary about the girl at first. Just one out of the hundreds who would walk passed him in the school hallways. Never bothering with anyone else but herself. No one ever really bothered at school. Everyone had been too busy with themselves, their own problems and whatnot, to notice anything out of the ordinary.

This one day, he could remember it like it was yesterday, Isaac had limped through the hallways, barely getting through the day. His dad had been beating him so severely the night before that it had led Isaac to dare hope that maybe this time someone would notice. Someone had to right? He could barely walk, his entire back and stomach were marked by lashes that were seared into his flesh by his father’s belt. His face had been frighteningly pale and he had felt overall exhausted.
A teacher perhaps? They were there to teach and help their students, right? However many times he had stumbled and had to rapidly make his way to the boys bathroom, throwing up so severely until there had been blood. No one had noticed him. Even if they did it was due to their annoyance at him for being in their way.   

Weeks had passed before his dad had taken him to the hospital. By then all of his bruises and external wounds had healed. Though internally his body couldn’t repair the damages it had to endure. When he had not been able to get out of his bed, no matter how angry his father had gotten something about him had been enough for his father to finally comprehend that his son needed medical help. Professional medical care. His one week lasting stay at the hospital had been one of pure bliss. During his examination he had been asked about the cause of his injuries, to which he had answered that some jocks had gotten him. Isaac had wanted to tell the truth, to just get away. For someone to help him wake up from this nightmare but one look at his father and his lips were sealed.

Thereafter, he went back to school like usual and that’s when his father had taken on a different approach with punishing him. Instead of the reckless and ruthless beatings his father would shove him in a freezer chest which sat in the basement. Lock its door on him and hold him captive for entire nights sometimes. This had only added to Isaac’s traumatic experiences and list of horrible anxiety’s.  

Erica came into picture the day they had Gym class, during which they had to climb. For some reason something had caused for her to have one her episodes of epilepsy. While all the other kids had been standing around her, looking dumbfounded, Isaac had made his way towards her. Something within him not able to just stand by and watch someone suffer by something they had no control over. Urging him to do something, anything. Thus he had carried her to the nurse’s office. Once she had gotten the care she needed she had been angry and upset with him. Lashing out at him to stay away from her. But Isaac recognized the true meaning behind her words and deeds, he recognized a cry for help like no other.

Gradually they had become friends, close friends. The kind that entrusted each other everything and anything. From there on, they had each other’s backs like no other. Isaac finally learned that there were good things to live for, to fight for. That perhaps there was a bright future for the both of them. But like all good things their little bubble of happiness shattered and reality came crashing down on them.

One night Isaac and his father got into a fight about his grades and that is when shit hit the fan. His dad had been raging, throwing everything within his reach at Isaac. Isaac had fallen out his chair at the dining table when his father’s glass of wine had been thrown at him, cutting into his cheek. That night he had packed his bag, making sure to take his passport with him and escaped from his house, running to the only person he knew would take him in.  

He and Erica had run away from their houses, together in search for any other place, as long it was away from Beacon Hills. Erica had stolen her mother’s credit card and with it they fled the country, terrified the authorities would catch them.
They had to stay hidden and away from the authorities. That is how they had stumbled upon the circus. One which no human being ever thought of looking into. No one would ever look for them at a circus, especially this one in particular.
They were promised a free stay, a place of their own, where they would be taken care of. The only price being that they performed. 

Isaac did not know how he had fallen from one nightmare into another. This time they were all trapped. That’s where Erica and he had met Derek and Peter Hale.

Isaac had been the first to be turned by Derek Hale. When Erica’s seizures had gotten worse and more frequent Derek had offered her the bite as well. She had taken it gladly, the idea of being free of her epilepsy with nothing to hold her back any more too good to refuse, no matter the costs that came with it.

Jackson had been the last and most recent addition to their humble pack. After he had been kicked out of another foster home he had found refuge at the circus. Despite being a gigantic douche bag and useless half of the time he did have a heart of gold, deep down. Probably within a super massive black hole.

Derek had been forced into turning him after he practically had begged for the bite. Jackson’s desire to become the best at everything, become undefeatable, irreplaceable had driven him to literally beg Derek to turn him. Nevertheless, they all understood what the actual reason was behind Jackson’s rapture. Deep down he longed for that which they all had in common; to belong. To matter. To be a part of something, that went beyond and further than anything they had had up until now. A true, worthy family. One that accepted each other despite their faults and unstable behaviours. No matter what their pasts beheld, they were together in the present. They would support and love each other unconditionally.         

Well, that was the concept behind the idea of being part of a pack. But their pack was a little too unstable and untameable to become that just yet. During their precious and dire training sessions with Derek, while learning to master the art of control over their wolves, mostly during a full moon, Derek had opened up to his pack. A little. It had been a very tiny crack in the concrete wall Derek had put up around himself, hiding his true self or perhaps shielding would be a better description.

While teaching his betas how to control their emotions to prevent from shifting into an unpredictable killing machine, Derek had told them about his own anchor; anger. His anger from the happenings that had led for the Alpha to be trapped here. Away from everything and almost everyone he knew. Which had led him to become an Alpha in the first place.

Derek Hale was never meant to be the Alpha, not within his family at least. His late older sister, Laura, was the one meant to become the Alpha after Derek’s parents were to pass away or pass it on to their oldest daughter. Though the most unthinkable tragedy had taken his entire family and pack by surprise. Murdering everyone of his family, whether they were werewolves or humans. It was a massacre to which the only survivors had been Peter and Derek.

Their Alpha had admitted that he didn't know how to be an Alpha, because he was never meant to be one. Although Derek had not voiced this out loud it was clear as day that Derek did not know how to be a leader. To become a teacher and caretaker of his newly turned pack of teenagers. Most of what he did was based on instincts and driven by his gut feeling. What seemed right and wrong in his eyes. Therefore Isaac, Erica and Jackson were to know not to blame Derek. Erica and Isaac knew how to be patient because this was something they were learning together. The how’s and what to do’s of being a pack. They were a work in progress. But despite their knowledge of each other’s pasts and reasons behind their actions, they still blamed Derek for half the things they did or that went wrong. Neglecting Derek’s guilt, which he carried even if it wasn’t his to carry. He’d always take the blame and the fall for them. Derek was supposed to never blow his composure as their Alpha, mostly he acted like a true soldier. And even if he held the weight of the whole world on his shoulders he would never show it.

Thinking back on it, Isaac was shocked by how much Derek had done for them and still was and how by becoming a pack they had not just become a family but also inherited each other’s pasts and problems.

Chapter Text

Stiles was moping around the house. Lately he felt a little down. Memories from the past kept resurfacing and he couldn’t really focus on his work. It was annoying his friends, they had to pick up his slack. Lydia and Danny pulled the most but even Scott was doing extra work.

I suppose I really have to get started. Think Stiles, get to it.

He milled around his kitchen. After grabbing a cup of coffee, he headed towards his office. The sun was brightly shining through his window and here he was, having to work.

Fun times

Another stack of papers was waiting to be filed. There was always a stack of papers to go through. Stiles sighed. The zeal he had in his work, was going down the drain lately. Yes, his work still had purpose but it was also becoming habitual. Besides, he could trust on Lydia, Danny and Scott to do some of the work when he didn’t feel like doing it. Stiles felt guilty about it, but sometimes his motivation was that low. He started working through the file of papers when Lydia, Scott, and Danny entered the room.

“Okay sourpuss, we’ve had enough of your attitude haven’t we guys?” Lydia said, hands firmly placed on her hips.

“You can’t expect us to do all your work while you mope around,”  Danny interjected. Scott simply nodded looking guilty that he had to chastise his best friend.

“I’m not moping,” Stiles sulked. “I even just started on the paperwork.” He had tried a fake smile. Lydia pierced right through the fakeness. “You just sulked, and you know it. Stop the sulking and drop the work.” That surprised Stiles.

“You’re always hounding me in doing the work Lydia and now you want me to drop it?” Stiles asked incredulously.

“Yes, we have a surprise for you,” Danny said grinning mischievously. “We think you need a change of scenery and Lydia did her best to pull some strings so all four of us can leave on a little vacation.” This was an even bigger surprise to Stiles.

“Where are we heading? How are we going? We need lots of marshmallows!” His ADD kicked in. “I need to pack my jacket, my cap, sunglasses, so much to pack! Hey, wait, where are we even going?” He asked arms flailing around, remembering that he didn’t know if they would go some place warm or cold.

“Lydia said we were going to F..” Scott clammed his hand around his mouth.

“F?.....” Stiles asked, “Fiji? Philippines? What?” His face was contorted, almost looking like a question mark itself.

“Where are we going?” He was eager to find out where they were headed to. Scott shot Lydia an apologetic smile. He mouthed sorry. Lydia gave him a dismissive look.

“It’s a surprise Stiles, that’s all I will say for now, drop the work and start packing shirts, pants, shorts and whatever else you need,” Lydia replied, “and most of all, don’t forget your colognes and deodorants, I don’t want to suffocate in your sweaty odour. That goes for all of you,” she pointed her finger at each male in the room, just to make a point. “Even you Danny.”

Danny just looked at her dumbfounded. “The dare of those accusations Lydia.”

“Either way Stiles, we’re giving you one hour to pack, we all have our belongings here already,” Danny announced sweetly.

Stiles left his office immediately, he wouldn’t be told twice, ne-aah. He could finally leave his work for a while. Scott followed Stiles out of the office and into his bedroom.

“I’ll help you pack.”

Stiles opened his closet and just stood there after a moments pause he turned around. “So Scott,” he asked slyly, “where are we going?” Puppy dog eyes were staring at Scott.

“It’s a secret, Lydia told me not to tell you.” Stiles frowned at Scott and looked sad.

“But I’m your best friend! You can tell me, I won’t tell. You know that! We’ve known each other since kindergarten, have I ever betrayed you?”

Scott snorted, “Plenty of times. Remember that time when you told Miss Applecheeks that I was the one who accidentally did a number one on the floor instead of in the toilet. Or the time where I got in trouble when you threw a paper plane at Jackson and he thought it was me. I recall that you did not say it was actually you and I had three days of detention because of it.”

Stiles just shrugged and disappeared in his walk-in closet. Scott preferred to stay outside of that thing. He'd always whined to Stiles about how it was like a maze, if you got lost you’d be stuck in there forever. Stiles noticed him glancing around the room, while sitting on the bed. He hadn’t been much in Stiles his room since he moved into this mansion. There never had been a need to. Scott must feel a little nostalgia to the earlier years– Stiles imagined. Stiles and he had always studied in each other’s bedroom when they were younger. In this new room however, Stiles only slept. Giving the room another glance, Scott started noticing a couple of things– a corner of this room was somewhat similar to the one Stiles had in the Stilinski house. His old desk stood there, as well as a few posters from his old room hanging there. They had all grown up, things had changed but it was nice to see that some things never changed. It gave Scott a sense of peace, it seemed.

Suddenly Stiles stumbled from the closet, ignoring his observations, “I almost got lost in there, I really need to get myself directions.” He held up pink socks. “When did I ever get these? I can’t remember purchasing pink socks.”

“Lydia gave them to you once, she said it was fashionable.” Scott burst into laughter at Stiles being his goofy self.

He really needed this. Stiles’ entire mood had changed since he heard that they were going on a vacation.

Scott eyed him with a knowing look, a relieved look painting his features. Stiles tossed the pink socks into his suitcase. “You never know,” he shrugged.  The suitcase wouldn’t close because Stiles had tossed everything in there, instead of actually neatly folding the clothes and putting them in. So it resulted in Scott and him having to sit on the suitcase whilst trying to close it.

“Put more weight into it Scott! We both know you’re the fat one!” Scott looked indignantly at Stiles.

“What is wrong with you?” He retorted rhetorically. Luckily the suitcase closed at that exact moment.

“Okay, let’s go!” Stiles left his room eagerly, dragging his luggage along.

Lydia was sitting in the parlour drinking coffee. She was sitting cross-legged with her left leg tapping up and down. She was appearing more impatient with every passing second. Finally, Stiles and Scott came down the giant stairs.
“About damn time,” she huffed shooting a glare at them.

Stiles looked at her feigning innocence, “Dear Lydia, I was trying very hard to find those pink socks that you gave me! I had to look for them, I couldn’t find them, that’s what took so long. You know how it’s like in there, you bought me half the stuff in there.”

Lydia eyed him unfazed, “With your money yes, your taste is really bad so someone had to do it. But you went to all that trouble to find the pink socks?” She faked a face of wonder. “That’s so sweet!” But then her face turned all frowny-looking. Lydia’s face did that from time to time.

“But I bet you’re lying to me right now, Stiles. I don’t like it,” she eyed him accusingly, daring him to deny it.

“They are truly in there Lydia, I even saw Stiles put them in,” Scott replied.

Stiles was grinning at Scott. After all these years they were still each other’s wingmen. Scott knew exactly what his wing man was thinking and he returned the smile.

“Well, I will believe you brain sharers…for now,” she said crisply. “We have to go. Not that we actually have a certain time to catch, cause we’re going with your private Jet,” she eyed Stiles. “But either way it would be nice to get this trip started.”

Stiles went and informed his staff of the sudden trip. He explained to them what they should do in his absence and told them that he didn’t know how long the trip would take. Outside there were three gorgeous cars. On the left there was a sleek looking car. A black Aston Martin one 77. That’s the car that was Danny’s. It resembled his physical appearance and mentality. The car was sexy and smooth. Next to that was Lydia’s Chrysler Crossfire Cabrio. The car had sass, as did she. On the right was Scott’s Lambo SUV. It wasn’t as flashy as the other two cars, but something that fit Scott well. He had to use his car sometimes to pay visits to patients at people’s homes. He couldn’t quite do that in a Porsche, especially if he had to take a pet patient with him. Stiles walked towards his garage. There were many beautiful cars in there, but there was only one car that he truly loved. Granted, this car had been modified and fixed up, but it still was his beauty. The car looks awkward, clumsy and has a baby blue colour. Just like Stiles was. It was one of his finest possessions. He had it fixed, due to her almost breaking down. Stiles struggled lifting the suitcase in the back of his Jeep but he managed..eventually. He got into his Jeep and petted the dashboard.

“Here we go again, baby girl.” He revved the engine to life. The Jeep roared a welcome to Stiles. Danny, Lydia and Scott had already left the estate. He backed his car out of the garage and closed it with a click of his remote. 

The trip to the airport was kind of dull. Everyone was in their separate cars doing their separate things.  Stiles had decided to keep himself busy by singing along with the radio. He wished that the others were with him in the car, but he knew they all had their own lives, own things to do. They came from different places and it also wasn’t practical to fit the luggage and them into this Jeep. Still he longed for the old days where Scott had to rely on him for transportation. They finally arrived at the private airport. Stiles didn’t know the other people who owned a plane here, but he also couldn’t care less really. Prestige and wealth weren’t on his list of things to be interested in. Granted, he himself was rich and prestigious but he never felt that way. He had done things for the greater good after all.

“Scoot, scoot guys” Lydia interjected, breaking him away from his thoughts. Their luggage was being taken care of. Scott almost tripped and fell while climbing up the small air plane stairs. Lydia looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“What?” Scott exclaimed.

“I sometimes wonder, if you have ever learned how to walk properly,” Lydia snorted.

Everyone was seated bar Danny. He was getting the champagne from the built-in fridge. Staff would do that later as well, but they wanted to toast now. Danny uncorked the bottle and poured in four glasses.

“A small toast on our trip, our friendship and our company,” he said with a smile.

Stiles’ curiosity was getting the better of him. “So where are we going?” He hadn’t asked about it most of the ride to the airport. Not that he actually could, seeing he was in his car, by himself, with nobody to talk to. “I’d really like to know now, my patience is running out.”

“We’re going to France,” Scott said eagerly.

“Scott!” Lydia exclaimed. “You’re such an imbecile, I thought the point was to make him guess until we got to see the Eiffel tower!” She sighed and frowned at him. “Men!” she muttered, rolling her eyes.

“Hey don’t look at me,” Danny said mused. “Oh and if you keep frowning like that, you’ll get wrinkles.”

For a moment Lydia almost looked offended. But then her face seemed to smooth over. “Nothing that Botox can’t fix,” she said with an easy smile.

The plane’s engine started up. The attendant of the flight walked up towards them. “Please fasten your seatbelts, we’re about to depart.” The plane rode out of the hangar towards the flight track. The engines revved loudly and the plane started making velocity. After a few seconds the wheels left the road and they were up in the air.





An hour later, they were flying over the ocean. Now that Stiles knew where they were going, he couldn’t shut up about it. “What shall we do in France? We are not just on one of your shopping sprees are we Lydia?” He eyed her cautiously. Lydia just continued flipping through her magazine, completely ignoring Stiles. “Lydia?! We are not just going shopping are we?”

She paused and just looked at Stiles, raising an indignant eyebrow.

“You’re a grown man, I am going shopping for just one day, what you do on that day is all up to you. You can come along or you can just sit around in the hotel or do other things. Danny and I are going shopping, that is a fact,” She simply replied.

Danny smiled, “You can never give up a chance for some fine European shopping. France is one of the biggest fashion country’s of the world.”  Stiles snorted and left it at that.

The rest of the flight was filled with chitchat amongst each other and banter between Lydia and Stiles. They even had a small sense of turbulence but after the first two hours conversation pretty much dried out. Flying so high in the air left little to do but drink and talk and eventually sleep. The flight was long enough, so gradually they all fell asleep. Stiles first, he couldn’t hold his liquor all that well, Scott and Danny fell asleep soon after and Lydia fell asleep last. Before they knew it, they were near the French capitol Paris. A private limousine was waiting for them to take them to their hotel in Paris.  They were only going to be in Paris for two days before they’d go to their final destination. Lydia had left out the last part, it was a total surprise for anyone, well bar her of course, since she planned it.

The trip in the limousine was short. Lydia had booked rooms at the Hotel Du Louvre. It was owned by an American franchise, Hyatt Hotels. Hotel Du Louvre was very near to the Champs-Elysées. They could practically walk there. The rooms were luxurious, as expected. Lydia wouldn’t go for anything worse than luxurious.

“Great pick, Lyds,” Danny had said.

She replied crisply, “Well of course, what would you expect?”  Nobody dared to say anything after that. Lydia was too smug with herself.

They all had separate rooms. The rooms were big enough to be an condo. They were furnished  with exuberant sofa’s, flat screens , Swarovski crystal chandeliers, you name it. The bathroom had gorgeous black tiles and looked very modern. A giant bath was set in the corner, big enough for three people.

Stiles and Scott were both impressed with their rooms. Not that Stiles actually should have been impressed. He had all these things back home as well, but regardless Lydia really had done a good job.


They gathered in the lobby after settling into their rooms.

“So, time for lunch?” Stiles asked his friends. Scott nodded eagerly, he was starving. He figured he could even eat an entire cow now. Danny was also famished.

“I don’t really care, as long as we can go shopping afterwards,” Lydia acted coolly. Then her stomach started growling and she felt hunger pangs. “Okay, okay, I am hungry too!.” That got a chuckle out of Scott and Danny. Stiles was looking dreamingly at Lydia. “Did I ever tell you, that I love you?”

Lydia looked at him with disdain, “Never going to happen.” She walked up to the receptionist and asked him what good restaurants there were around the hotel. He named a few expensive and luxurious restaurants and Lydia couldn’t really decide. Stiles interrupted them.

“Is there a McDonald's around?” Lydia shot him a glare.

Oh no you did not just ask what I think you asked Stiles!

The receptionist told them where the closest McDonald's was located.  He looked at Stiles in a somewhat disgusted manner. Stiles walked away happily and Lydia was too embarrassed to say anything more. “Americans,” the receptionist muttered.

“Seriously Stiles! There is so much fine dining to be tasted here and you want McDonald's?” Lydia exclaimed. “We could have just stayed in the US. Plenty of junk food there.”  She was fuming.

All this money and prestige and this guy wanted Burgers, unbelievable.

Lydia complied for the sake of the trip. It was all about getting Stiles to cheer up and be less depressing. “Fine,” she muttered. The group left for McDonald's, wearing designer clothes. It was such a weird sight for the customers when they walked in. The general crowd of McDonald's didn’t exactly scream rich nor wealthy. 

They ordered and ate fast. Lydia was determined to get some shopping done today. Tomorrow would be all about Stiles, but today she would pamper herself a little. After all she did all the hard work of organizing this trip and she wouldn’t pass up a chance to do some fine couture shopping. They left soon after eating. Lydia was still appalled by his food choice but whatever.

“Glad to be out of there,” she sighed. “If we had stayed another minute in there people might have come up to us for autographs thinking we were celebrities. We were way to overdressed for that.”

Danny agreed, “Dining in an Christian Dior, at McDonald's is way too weird.“

Stiles didn’t care any more he was way too happy now that he had eaten. Same was for Scott. They were brothers in a way after all. It would only be logical that they were alike. “So what shall we do?” Scott asked.

“Shopping”, Lydia replied. Danny agreed wholeheartedly.





Forty-five minutes later they were on one of the biggest shopping streets of Paris. Stiles had decided to go along with them in his haze of stupor. He had come to regret that decision quite quickly. Scott came along because of Stiles and was now stuck in this situation as well. Lydia and Danny shopped to their hearts content. Various fashion stores were plundered for suits, shirts, dresses, skirts, blouses and even sexy underwear. Poor Stiles and Scott were put on duty. They had to carry Lydia’s bags. After a while even Danny started handing his bags over to Scott and Stiles.

 “Sorry guys, but I have my limits in carrying them. Besides you’re doing such a great job carrying Lydia’s stuff, that I figured you could do the same for me.” He batted his eyelashes.

Stiles made a sour face. “Tell me why I agreed to this again, Scott.”

“Beats me, you agreed and now I am stuck here with you.” He scoffed.

After three agonizing hours, Scott and Stiles were taken of carrying duty. “Next time I’m bringing a mule along so you can pack your bags on the mule instead,” Stiles said. Lydia gazed at him with horrid eyes. “That’s animal cruelty Stiles, you did not just say that.”

“Making me carry YOUR bags is also cruel.”

“Yes, but you’re not an animal, therefore it's not animal cruelty and I couldn’t care less.”

They dropped the shopping bags off at the hotel. Scott whispered to Stiles, “How will they ever take all of that with them?” Danny and Lydia luckily didn’t overhear their conversation.
“Beats me man, but I won’t be surprised if they bought extra suitcases, they have too many bags so I kind of lost track.”

Lydia and Danny returned and they went out to look for one of the luxurious restaurants the receptionist had named earlier. Apparently Lydia had a nose for these kind of places, she didn’t even have to use the GPS on her phone. She walked straight to one of the grandest restaurants Paris had to offer.

Even Stiles was amazed, so amazed that he found it difficult to explain how the place looked like. If he had to pick a word to describe it, luxurious would definitely be it. Stiles didn’t like fancy restaurants but he had learned to live with them, it came with the territory after all. He’d had many business diners in expensive restaurants for the past few years, luckily always guided by either Danny or Lydia. If he’d been there with Scott he would be at a loss.

The same thing happened here, Lydia and Danny knew exactly what to ask, say and do to order food. Stiles was happy with anything that tasted good. Especially if it wasn’t snail or duck liver. But Lydia delivered. Stiles didn’t really know what he ate, but maybe it was better to keep it on a need to know basis. He liked it, that was all he needed to know, besides everything was in French anyway.

They stayed for quite a while chatting and drinking and went back to the hotel with good spirits. Everyone went to their own room and fell asleep quite fast. It might be because of all the alcohol consumption or maybe the jet-lag followed by the entire day, who knows. All they could tell was, sleep came fast.


 The next day, they slept in and ate breakfast at one pm. Okay, so that technically did not count as breakfast but it was their very first meal of the day.

“You can pick one thing today, that we are all going to do” Lydia told Stiles. “We can’t stay up late tonight, because I have another surprise planned tomorrow. Just to give a heads up, you need to pack most of your things tonight, we’re leaving early.” Danny, Scott and Stiles were slightly surprised, but they could’ve known. Lydia was as predictable as fireworks. You never knew when something’s going to happen, but she would always surprise you nonetheless.

They had to recover from Lydia’s announcement but Stiles had already been dead set in visiting the Eiffel Tower. So that’s what they would do. Nobody really complained, everyone even seemed quite excited. The Eiffel Tower is THE landmark of Paris, everyone knew it and you kind of could not go there if you were in Paris.

Stiles was picky though, he wanted to fully experience the Eiffel Tower,  which meant climbing all the steps. Much to Lydia’s chagrin, she was wearing heels after all. The plus side to walking up the tower meant that the line was much shorter. A lot of people chose the elevator ride to the first floor.

Stiles was excited, the architectural structure of the Eiffel Tower was really nice. The way to the first platform was long, with many, many steps. The view was amazing though and the walk towards the first section also felt rewarded by the sight it had to offer.

Lydia nagged the entire way to the first section. Stiles heard many things coming out of Lydia’s mouth.

“Can we rest a bit, I’m tired?”

“Stiles my feet hurt.”

“Stiles I hate you, and I hate this stupid tower.”

“Carry me Stiles.”

But she went silent after getting to the first section. The view was breath-taking and they weren’t even halfway yet. “Glad I came this far already,” Danny said. “Yup, the view is amazing,” Scott agreed.

Stiles turned to Lydia and put his arm around her shoulder. “Liking the view babe?”

“The view is nice, but I’m not your babe,” she replied. Lydia shrugged off Stiles’ arm. “Nor am I your property.”

Stiles glanced to the plateau above him, it was a long way to go, but they decided they would take the elevator to the next section, even if it meant waiting in line. Lydia simply would not take another flight of stairs.

The view on the second platform was more breath-taking than on the first, they could see the Seine on one side, with the new corporate area in the distance. On the other side there was the giant park that was stretched in front of the Eiffel Tower with a government building close to it.

Stiles eyed the third and final platform. It was as high as you could go on the Eiffel tower and it cost an extra fee. But who cares, they were rich, a few bucks more or less didn’t matter.

When reaching the third platform, they all gasped astounded. It wasn’t because the air was thinner here, but the view was that amazing.

“I thought the view on the first platform was amazing, but when we got to the second platform it was gorgeous. But now that I stand here, the other two platforms seem non-existent,” Stiles exclaimed.

They could see the entirety of Paris from this peak. The view from the other two platforms were not comparable to this view.

“This view is fit for us,” Lydia said. “We’re on top of Paris so to say, we are the best of the best. All of this thanks to blind luck into the idiot standing next to me.” She glanced at Stiles. Lydia was truly grateful for the opportunity given to her by him. Scott put his arm on Stiles shoulder.
“We never would’ve come here if it wasn’t for you Stiles, I feel like we’re on top of the world right now.”

“We owe you Stiles,” Danny said. He too was as grateful as the other two.

I never considered becoming this close to them, but I am.

They all stretched their hands in front of them. “We have the world in our palm, all thanks to this little genius.” Danny looked at all three of them. “To Stiles!” he yelled into the open air.

“To Stiles!” Lydia and Scott said in Unison.

“No, to us!” Stiles yelled into the air. Their words wafting through the sky all across Paris.

Chapter Text

Lydia, Scott, Danny and Stiles had visited the Eiffel Tower earlier that day. They shared a small moment together as a group of friends. They reminisced the past on top of the Eiffel Tower, feeling like the world was thrown at their feet. The group stayed up there until it was time to get diner. Lydia had made diner reservations at this place called Chéz Chiqué.

Chéz Chiqué was a famous restaurant in Paris. It was generally hard to get into but when Danny and Lydia pulled their resources together, it got quite easy. Plus, the fact that they had wealth and were considered people that belonged on the A-List, helped as well. Lydia wore a glamorous dress and had insisted the men to dress up nicely. She specifically asked Stiles to wear his pink socks. Lydia felt smug about making Stiles actually wear them. They were seated by a waiter and ordered their entrée. A bottle of Chablis was set on the table for them. After a quick toast, conversation ensued.

“So Lydia, where are we going tomorrow?” Stiles asked, once again curious. They were keeping him in the dark the entire trip. The only thing he actually got to choose himself was to go to the Eiffel tower. Well he could have opted for something else but shopping, but really didn’t know what to do. He wouldn’t admit it to his friends but even though he was bold of character, Stiles was also very shy. It got in the way of his adventurous self at times. Being in a big capital town like Paris, without any knowledge, made him feel anxious. A feeling he did not like. Stiles was hounding Lydia with questions, because of this sole reason.
“Come on, tell us!” he exclaimed.

“No Stiles, it’s a surprise for every single one of you,” she said smiling pleased with herself.
“Besides where’s the fun in telling you, if I can watch you squirm now? Cause honestly you really are squirming.”

Stiles shot an annoyed glance at her, “You still treat me like a child.”

“That’s simply because you are dumbass, you’ve never grown up,” Lydia said. The moment she said it, she regretted it. Lydia bit her lip gently. We all know why he hasn’t grown up much, his parents died at an early age. Lydia you can be incredibly tactless at times. You’re going to damage  this guy at one point or another if you keep this up. Lydia smoothed her face over. Her momentary lapse wasn’t noticed by the others. Even Stiles didn’t think that much of the comment Lydia made. She insulted him all the time, it was kinda their thing.

“I like this hate, love relationship we have going on Lydia. It almost makes me feel like you might actually like me,” Stiles said.

“Never going to happen,” she lied.

Two waiters served their entrée just in the nick of time. Lydia and Stiles were going to squabble more, much to Scott and Danny’s dislike. They liked the banter but it had its limits. An entire day of Stiles and Lydia squabbles usually gets very tiresome.

On a lighter note, Scott tried to ask Lydia about the trip tomorrow. This would satisfy his own curiosity and would keep Stiles quiet, because he couldn’t resist listening to the details.

“Do we need specific clothing? What I mean is, is it the same temperature as here?” Scott looked at Lydia. “Well, it’s in this country and I suppose it will be a tad warmer than here,” Lydia replied.

On that notion, Lydia started eating, chilling the conversation. It left the others to ponder about the next location that they would visit. They ordered their main course thereafter. Red wine was poured into the glasses now. Suited for the upcoming meal.

“So Lyds,” Stiles started again. Lydia glared at him. “Stop asking Stiles, before I cut your tongue out.” Her knife was gripped in her hand.
“That goes for all of you, I came here to enjoy my diner, you’ll all see tomorrow and that’s that!” The servers set down their platters and Lydia smiled politely. The first thing she did was cut into her meat. After taking a bite, so delicious, she decided to divert the conversation.

“So Stiles, Danny, Scott any lovers in your life?”
Danny almost choked on his food. The question caught him off guard. As he swallowed his food, he put down his knife and fork.
“Well, I don’t really have any lovers, there was this one guy.. but that didn’t really work out that well. It was great for a while but he just wasn’t the one.” Danny could be so overly romantic. Despite of that Lydia liked that side of him. Who doesn’t dream of their very own prince or princess Charming?
“Aww, that’s sad…but you probably will find someone that matches you.”
“How about you Scott?” She looked at him with piercing eyes.

Scott looked uncomfortable. “Nobody really, a lot of girls are really nice but nothing really happens.”
“It’s because you’re such a softy,” Stiles chimed in. “Girls like bad asses who are mean to them.”

“And you’re the expert on that aren’t you, Stiles?” Lydia smirked, shooting a scrutinizing look at Stiles.
“As far as I know, no girl has been long enough with you.” She knew Stiles had lost his virginity at some point but he hadn’t had many women in his life.
“But Lydia, my love, you’re the only woman I need. You have also been by my side longer than any other woman, so does that not count?”
Lydia was fallen aback. Her face aghast.

Stiles has me here. Come on Lydia, don’t let that idiot get away with that smug look plastered on his face. Retort a witty comment, NOW!

Lydia snorted, squinting her eyes at him but could not give a smart reply, without it sounding mean. She could be spiteful, but that would just result into more squabbling with Stiles. Scott and Danny wouldn’t like that, so for the sake of peace, she decided against it.

The main course was finished faster than they had expected and desert came soon after. Lydia had gotten a heavenly Dame Blanche. She was practically moaning while eating.
“You guys, this is way too good. This should be in every restaurant around the world,” Lydia ate another spoonful. “I could eat this all day.”

“And you would get really fat,” Stiles muttered jokingly. Danny and Scott stifled their laughter. Lydia glared at him. “Garçon, the check please.”
The bust boy came back with the bill, Lydia glanced at it and smirked.
She shoved the bill towards Stiles, “You’re paying, cause you are a true gentlemen, right? I mean I’m a lady and shouldn’t have to pay, and it would be very rude to make your friends pay.”
Lydia could be evil at times. Scott and Danny did want to pay. Stiles waved it off, “it’s okay, I’ll pay for it. I have enough money laying around anyway. Lydia smiled self-satisfied.

After their diner, they went back to the hotel and tucked in for the night. They had to do some early packing the next day. Lydia and Danny’s luggage had grown considerably larger checking out than checking in. You could blame it on the shopping spree. The poor valet’s had to carry all the luggage into a minivan of sorts. It was a more luxurious model, but who was Lydia kidding, it was a minivan. It simply was more practical for the upcoming trip.

They loaded up the van and Stiles got behind the wheel. Lydia looked at him incredulously.
“Really? Move Stiles, you’re not going to drive.” Stiles looked annoyed. “Why not?”
“Well maybe, because you don’t know where we are going genius!” She exclaimed, rolling her eyes. 
At that revelation, Stiles unbuckled, scoffed and went into the back seat with Scott. Danny would ride up front with Lydia.

They headed south from Paris straight onto the toll roads; they were the fastest way in France. You do have to pay a toll but that was implied with the name “Toll roads.” The roads went to the more southern regions of France, exactly where they were going.
At some point they went East. Stiles saw a sign saying -Alpes du Sud- 80 km.
“Is that where we’re going Lyds?”
She gazed into the rear-view mirror, “Well yes, some place there.” That was all she was going to say. Being very tight-lipped about the surprise.

After many hours they got off the main road and went in to a forest trail.
“You’re not kidnapping us are you?” Scott asked jokingly though he did seem nervous.
“No, not really. The location is somewhat special and not as close to civilization as I’d have liked but..we were promised good accommodations and I was really curious so..” Lydia focused back on the road again. Sometimes big tree roots came out of the ground, so she had to swerve around them. Luckily the road was big enough and quiet enough to do these manoeuvres.  The guys were glancing around at their new surroundings. Seeming really curious now.

A mix of tree’s appeared around them. Not only were there regular tree’s like the ones in New York, but also pine tree’s started appearing. At long last, they came to an open area that had some sort of wooden wall surrounding the entire location. Lydia remembered Allison mentioning for her to drive around it. There would be wooden lodges at the back. The lodges were found easily, there was only one road going around the location. A small two story bungalow came into their sights, Allison had briefly told Lydia that the first cabin visible would be theirs. She had mailed the keys ages ago.

“This is it guys!” Lydia said happily. The guys looked shocked. They really hadn’t expected this kind of trip from her.
“So, we’re going camping?” Stiles asked. He had camped a few times with his dad before but they weren’t the greatest experiences.
“One, to camp you have to be in an RV or a tent. A Bungalow does not equal camping. Two, we can go hiking in these woods, but that’s not what we’re here for. An old friend of mine, who moved away years ago is one of the owners of this place. We’ll get a tour from her later, but first let’s settle in. The biggest room is mine.” Lydia claimed it instantly. “And be a dear Scott, bring in my luggage as well, my feet are sore from driving in heels. I’m exhausted and cannot lift a thing,” she pouted.

Scott knew there was no point in arguing with her when she was playing the sweet, victimized girl. So he did as he was told. They settled in and Lydia made some quick calls. She said their hostess, who was named Allison, would be there later. Lydia passed the time napping and Danny made some international calls to business associates. Stiles and Scott? Well, they just spend their time playing cards. Until there was a knock on the door, oddly enough Lydia came out of her room fully clothed, no make-up smudged and looking all fresh.
“Is someone going to answer that?” Lydia asked annoyed.

Scott opened the door and Allison stepped inside. “Hello everyone, I’m Allison.”
Danny, Scott and Stiles had introduced themselves. Scott oddly enough blushed a little.
Lydia walked towards Allison and gave her three kisses on the cheek.
“Glad to see you again, it’s been a while. ” Lydia looked Allison over. “And you’re looking well, even though we are in the middle of nowhere.” Allison smiled, “Thanks and welcome to our private estate.”

“This is all yours?” Scott asked flabbergasted.
“Well it’s partly mine, but it belongs to my family yes. We’ve been here for quite a while now and our reputation in France precedes us. I’ll give you a small tour and a small sample, so if you’d all follow me.”

Allison walked with them towards one of the back entrances onto the property. She explained that there wasn’t much on this side. Only houses of fellow employees and her family were in this area. They entered the gate past what seemed security guards. They smiled at Allison and she smiled back.
When they entered the terrain, the group was taken aback.
A huge circus tent was in the centre of the location. All around the circus tent were dozens of booths.
“So yeah, we own one of the biggest private European circuses with the added stands.” She blushed. Allison did not like to show off, but this was factual. Allison took them all around the terrain, they had a falafel stand, a burger stand, churros. You name it, they had it. Stiles’ mouth was watering.
“This all smells so delicious Allison, I wonder if it tastes as good as it smells.”
“Well I can assure you that it does,” she winked at Stiles, “maybe you can have a taste later.”

When they came to a T-Shirt stand, Allison came to a halt. There was a familiar face there, her aunt Kate.
She turned around and saw Allison and her visitors
“Well hello! Welcome to our grounds. How is the tour so far?”
“It’s wonderful, really great.”

“Ow, where are my manners, my name is Kate Argent. I’m Allison’s aunt.”
Kate sized up the group, she did that with every stranger and her eyes fell on someone in particular.
“Have we met before?” Kate asked Stiles.
“I don’t think so.”
She gazed at him again and then she remembered. Kate saw that face a long time ago.
It was the creator of the bracelets that she had modified.
Upon seeing Stiles, she was reminded of the bracelets’ discovery. What a wonderful creation that had been!




France, Argenton – July, 2009
Operating Technical Division (OTD)

“Soyez les bienvenus en France,” A deep male voice welcomed.
“Merci! ” A young female replied while stepping out of the rusty yellow taxi. It was a beautiful day out. The sun was shining brightly. A gentle breeze in the air ruffled through the young female’s hair as she strode towards a grand, majestic, dome building. 
The sound of heels echoed off the tall standing building walls. The young female dressed in a white tight fitted suit, walked down the brightly lit hallway. Ceiling high metal window frames engulfed the outer sunlight inwards. Rows of gallery’s decorated the pale white walls like that of an exhibition. The portraits varied from gory depicted illustrations to futuristic machinery. The young female reached the end of the hallway which opened up into a black room lit with thousands of colourful led lights. To the ordinary clueless human this room would seem like any other, perhaps just lit more decoratively than the ones before. The building the young female was wandering through was quite massive after all. Grabbing a pair of glasses out of her purse she then approached the centre of the room and angled her body just so. Putting her glasses on it showed an electrical current running to a particular part of the room, where the electrical energy showed to be the brightest. Approaching that corner, the female placed her hand against a certain padlock-shaped part of the wall by which her hand started to get scanned. Once clear the wall opened up into another hallway. Immediately after stepping inside, the hidden door closed with an audible bang of the locks churning into their places. Patting her suit straight the female started down the hallway, which was met by a steel door at the end of it. To unlock this one the female had to press her thumb against a metal disk; out of which a needle punctured into her flesh, drawing blood. Once cleared and identified, the handle on the steel door rotated and opened up into an overly bright lit lab. A sign on the left wall read: Research Department for Biological Defence Program: Red Storm Rising

“Ah, Ms. Argent I see you have finally arrived.” An overly eager young researcher greeted.

“You guys didn’t joke when you mentioned this place was well hidden and protected,” The female replied with a half smile.

“Oh, no ma’am. Absolutely not, almost everything that is stated here is based upon facts,.. although some on theories. But mostly facts I assure you,” the researcher babbled with excessive energy. His glasses twitching up and down with his nervous movements.
“Easy there big boy,” the female raised an eyebrow in amusement. “oh and by the way, call me Kate,” she introduced herself walking passed the young nervous researcher; who had raised his hand for formal introduction. But Kate had already started down the lab. Once the researcher had scrambled after her and was walking beside her, Kate started to get down to business. Discussing the reasons behind her sudden arrival. Walking into the operating room at the far end of the lab, Kate strode over to her desk.

“Sit,” Kate mentioned for the researcher; Jonathan Edgar read his tag. Scurrying towards the chair placed in front of Kate’s desk Jonathan sat himself down. Kate reached for her purse and took out her laptop. She then resumed to log in to her account before she continued her talk with Jonathan.

“The OTD has gotten its hands on a new high-tech device, which serves for tracking and neutralizing criminals if needed.” Kate explained as she flipped her laptop to show the information file, on the prototype, to Jonathan.

“That’s.. that is incredible!” Jonathan replied staggered. “Is that even legal? Is there not a law against the use of such devices?”

“Oh it’s legal alright,” Kate snorted. “It has a switch to prohibit multiple use of the bracelet. Also it mostly serves for tracking services only,” Kate further explained.

“I… excuse me Ms. Kate but I cannot seem to comprehend how our biological defending program can have any use for this devise.”

“We are a researching lab studying experiments on human and animal genetics, mutations; initiated mutations due to experimental treatments or with the use of viruses. Genetic recombination, deletion, insertion, duplication or translocation of chromosomes for example. With those means we can basically recreate someone’s DNA. Some researchers prefer to refer to mutations as to fixing errors of one’s DNA.” Jonathan explained away and Kate let him. There was nothing to his explanation Kate did not already know. Her father run the OTD for heaven’s sake. But Kate would not be Kate if she did not let her subject feel at ease, open up, make them feel a sense of trust and respect so to manipulate them to her will. She loved to get inside their heads, explore all angles before playing them to her hands.

“My, my aren’t you the bright one,” Kate smiled. “Look Jonathan,” Kate resumed feeling gleeful as Jonathan tensed up at the use of his name. Eyes dilating as his hands became restless on his thighs. Transpiration forming above his eyebrows.

“As much as you are right, you are also equally wrong. While this is a biological lab and I am sure the closest you guys get to creating a defending weapon, that ought to be a virus or a virus epidemic.”

“The subjects my father’s company provides you with are sure to be experimented on but have you ever considered what will happen if one were to escape? You, yourself mentioned fixing errors. Well what if all those fixings would result in someone’s death?” Kate raised an eyebrow in inquisition.

“No,.. no one can get out of this facility without help from inside and or outside ma’am,” Jonathan stuttered as he wiped at his forehead with the back of his hand.      
“I can,” she dead panned.

“But for the subjects it should not be possible. It is not possible. There is no way, there are protocols. There are protocols to follow. We must follow! Must follow!” Jonathan’s voice took on a hysterical note as he scrambled to his feet, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

“Sit down!” Kate commanded and Jonathan almost fell back into his chair.

“Ye- yes ma’am,” he stuttered, his hands clasping and unclasping nervously in his lap.

“My point is, no matter how prepared you think you are, you’re not sure. You cannot guarantee that this department nor the entire facility is completely protected from as well as the outside as on the inside. I need you to make a list of the best electronic experts within this company. Consider yourself my personal assistant, as of now.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jonathan nodded vigorously, his glasses slid half down his nose.

“Good, now off you go. I expect that list within the next hour!” Kate dismissed him. Nodding once again Jonathan hurried away the way he had come.

As expected Jonathan had come back with the list within the hour.
Leaving to another floor, Kate and Jonathan made their way to a conference room; where the technicians were expected to gather. Once everyone had arrived Kate stood up, straightening her shoulders she faced everyone before starting.

“According to Mr. Edgar, you ladies and gentlemen are the top ten on our list of best technicians, within this facility,” Kate started leaning over as she placed both hands on the table.

“As you all know each department within this facility has its own duties, operations and so on. However this department in particular experiments on humans and animals. It has come to our attention that some test subjects can become quite dangerous to themselves and others,” she elaborated.

“With the amount of researchers and workers here it is no longer guaranteed that everyone will follow the protocols thoroughly. There is a need for protection as well as keeping account on how many subjects there are and where they are.” Kate turned the lights off and turned the projection screen on.

“As you can see,” she faced the screen, “we now are in possession of a new high-tech tracker and neutraliser in the shape of a bracelet. It’s simple, easy and effective.” Kate faced the room to study the reactions of the experts.
“Your task is to modify these bracelets into something more appropriate for our uses.”
“Study the workings of it to device a way to prevent the wearer of being capable of removing the bracelet, remove the prohibition of multiple use of the electric neutraliser. It is also important you invent a way to weaken a subject with dosages of whatever that suits the wearers weaknesses.” Kate rather commanded than requested.
“One more thing,” Kate spoke as she put the projector off, “does any of you know of an efficient way to eliminate a subject without causing much of a mess? Like, the use of a certain electrical voltage?” Kate faced the technicians in earnest.

Jonathan was the first to raise his hand. Raising a single eyebrow in question at him, he seemed to find his voice.
“There.. –it is possible to use certain electrical charge which could result in an aortic rapture.” Jonathan suggested, his demeanour relaxing the more intrigued Kate appeared.

“Great! Then this meeting has come to an end.” Kate replied satisfied as she started shovelling her belongings into her purse.
After having put an end to the meeting, Kate started walking back to her office, where she were supposed to call Gerard and tell him of their progresses.




France, Argenton – October, 2009
Research Department for Biological Defence Program:
Red Storm Rising

“It is not working!” A shaky male voice stated.

“Why is it not working,” the young researcher asked again while flipping haphazardly through files. A ferocious growl pierced through the cell as the subject lurched himself at the researchers, only to come crashing against the thick acrylic window. The half human half beast roared once more, hands bashing against the window. The youngest of the two researchers fell back against the wall from fear, hands shaking as they reached up to place his glasses back up on his nose.

“Obviously, the laboratory measurements of electrical quantities are inaccurate! Get on your feet and let us get back to the technicians, shall we?” The older researcher, William James, replied looking down his nose at Edgar. Young Edgar got quickly back on his feet and scurried after his fellow researcher.
They had been at this project for months and it would not be long before Ms. Argent would visit the facility. Last thing they needed was a defective device.

Back at the technical department, James and Edgar, explained how the current voltage was not enough to weaken the subject, let stand eliminating it. It needed to be changed pronto.

Seated at his little cubical, Edgar’s phone started ringing. Jonathan’s posture shot up straight as he fixed his clothes and reached to answer his phone. Surely, Ms. Argent would not be able to see how he was dressed but the woman always made him very self-aware.
“Jonathan Edgar speaking,” he answered.

“Hello Jonathan, it’s Kate. I’m calling to check up on the progresses you have hopefully made.”

“Well, yes ma’am. The device is as good as ready,” Jonathan tried to evade the whole defective part about it.

“Hmp, well that’s not enough. Why is it not already ready yet? It has been three months!” Kate’s previous polite tone took on an agitated note.

“Yes, I am dearly sorry Ms. Kate but there were some issues with the eliminating option. It is being worked on as we speak. I’m certain it will be working accordingly within a matter of days.” Jonathan ensured.

Sighing heavily Kate replied, “Fine. You have until December, if it isn’t working perfectly by then, you will be the next test subject!” Kate said in a calm voice.

Which only added more to Jonathan’s nerves and fears. “Thank you greatly, Ms. Kate!” Jonathan replied before the other line went dead. Jonathan was on the verge of a nevus breakdown, his hands were shaking and his glasses were condensed from his increased body heat. Jonathan had not signed up for being threatened when he had interviewed for the job. Surely their researches and discovery’s were all for a good cause. One that protected humanity from the beasts and vicious monsters no one knew existed. As matter of a fact he was supposed to be treated like a hero. His role within this facility was, obviously, crucial. Otherwise Kate Argent would not have chosen him as her personal assistant. Jonathan straightened his shoulders as he started feeling slightly more confident. He could do this!

“I can do this!” He softly assured himself. “Just have to make sure not to disappoint KateZilla! I can totally do that!” He muttered to himself as he started getting his files in an alphabetic order.





Kate snapped out of the memory. Nobody noticed her stroll down memory lane but she felt awkward now. “Well kids, have fun now! I have some more work to do.” Allison and Lydia waved her off. The guys were too cool for that. Allison continued the tour around the premises. They visited game booths and there even was a kissing booth. Stiles eagerly went for it, but instead was pulled back by Danny.

“No time,” he said. Stiles complained vigorously, but he followed the rest anyway. Allison concluded the tour in front of the giant circus in the centre.

“Well, I have a final surprise for you. I have a small preview for you guys, of tomorrow’s show!” Allison spoke excitedly.

They entered the circus, which was completely empty except for two-three guards disguised as clowns. The guards smiled and greeted Allison and her guests. Five chairs were set up in a row on the main stage. A knife set stood displayed and a bucket of water balloons. Also some very heavy objects like a refrigerator, huge dumbbells and a giant wooden board where four people could stand on.
“Are you ready guys?”
Stiles was too stunned to answer, he was looking at all the props.
Lydia however did reply, “Let’s get this show on the road.”

A dark haired, broad built guy came out onto the stage. He was wearing a long-sleeved black shirt with shorts.
“Excuse him for the clothing styles, this was all very suddenly planned and he didn’t get a time to change,” Allison explained. Like the dog he is.

“My name is Derek and I am performing a strong man routine.” Derek had tried to sound upbeat. Stiles looked at him. He saw that Derek certainly wasn’t upbeat, his body language was rigid all over. Regardless, he didn’t heed it any warning. Stiles watched Derek lifting heavy dumbbells to kick off his routine. It seemed easy and effortless. How strong is this guy? While watching the performance, a low hum started drumming in his ears. He put his finger in and twisted it a bit, hoping to clear his ear. To no avail. Derek moved towards the refrigerator and started lifting it off the floor. That must weigh a ton. Lydia bent over to Stiles and whispered, “I don’t mind me a man like that at all.”

That comment had made him feel a little jealous. He didn’t know why, but it just did. Stiles noticed that the performer named Derek was starting to break a sweat.

Why didn’t he just take that shirt off. Wait what? Why are you acting so lame brain? he asked himself. Stiles tried focusing on the performance more. Then a sweet sing-song voice sounded.

“Derek is going to lift that piece of wood above his head. The assistants will help you get onto the sheet of wood. Don’t worry, it’s strong enough to hold you all.”
Stiles saw Derek grimace and then his face morphed back into a calm composure.

“Oh, this sounds like fun.” Lydia stepped towards the assistants who lifted her onto the sheet of wood. So there Lydia stood, on the sheet of wood held up by Derek. Lydia wasn’t that heavy to be honest and that was reflected in Derek’s composure. Next up was Danny. He joined Lydia onto the sheet.

“Well, he is very strong, I can say that.” Danny looked at Allison and smiled. Scott joined them as well.

“No way, he’s that strong? Amazing!”

Stiles just looked at Derek awkwardly. It didn’t feel right. His friends beckoned him to join. Derek looked him in the eyes and Stiles looked into his. His eyes pleaded for Stiles to get on, so this could be over with. Stiles instead felt drawn to Derek. Yes, he did walk towards him but stopped a little in front of Derek. The hum in his ears popped and he had felt a small connection. Weird. Stiles shook it off and stepped onto the sheet of wood with his friends. He whistled, “Well he sure is strong.” He quickly went off again, as to not burden the performer. Scott followed, then Danny and Lydia last. She patted Derek on the arms,

“You really are strong.” Lydia was totally flirting with him.

“Lydia, do you mind? You’re going to drool all over him.” Stiles was annoyed. The sheet of wood was set down on the ground and Derek bowed.

“Thank you for watching,” he muttered. Lydia mouthed, call me. Derek looked confused, he didn’t even get a number. He turned away and walked towards the backstage area. He gazed one last time at the group. His eyes were focused not on Lydia, but on Stiles.

“Damn,” he muttered. “I need to go find Peter.”

After Derek left the stage, it was time for the second act.

Scott watched eagerly as their hostess, Allison, welcomed Isaac on the stage after Derek’s departure. The wooden sheet they had used for Derek’s act was being held up by the guardsmen disguised as clowns. 
The water balloons were being attached to the wood as Isaac took his place on stage. Holding the knife set in his hands. For a fraction of a second there was this bizarre glance between Allison and the young performer. It left Scott feeling slightly unsettled. There was just something unnerving about the way Allison’s eyes shone with an undistinguishable emotion to them. Glancing at his friends beside him, he sought their features for confirmation but found none. Their eyes were just sparkling from excitement as they watched the show in front of them, that is with the exception of Stiles. His best friend just seemed to be caught up in a different world or something. He came off as unsettled or he needed to use the bathroom. Probably the latter. Shaking himself mentally, Scott refocused his attention back on the act.

“Welcome, I am Isaac and seemingly I have a thing for knives,” he smiled mischievously as he raised one brow. Turning his back on them, Isaac, faced the wooden sheet and took a steel knife into his hands. Scott couldn’t help but steal a glance at Allison. At her, now sweet smile and the way her long black curls fell around her shoulders. How the dimples on her cheeks made her look even more beautiful as she smiled.

Focus you idiot! He thought to himself. He must have imagined what had happened earlier. There was no way someone looking so cute and adorable could have looked anything beside it.

Isaac threw the knife with such power and grace at the balloons, that it left Scott wondering how one  could practice that gracefully? Once Isaac had gone through all of the knives within the set, he glanced at the humble audience. The second his eyes lay upon Scott, Scott felt an odd sensation. He couldn’t look away for the life of him. There just seemed to be something pulling him but what, and why? Feeling bit uncomfortable Scott cleared his throat and noticed Isaac’s broaden eyes glance away immediately. Which, ok.. that shouldn’t leave Scott feeling a little.. disappointed.

Why the hell am I disappointed? What the Finstock man! He berated himself.

Turning his back on the crowd, Isaac, walked back towards the table and reached for a Kukri machete. Throwing it, with sheer force behind it, at the wooden stand; which broke off in two parts. Allison jumped slightly though she quickly recovered and walked to the centre of the podium.
“Well guys, I hope you enjoyed your little VIP show!” She said smiling a bit too much. It just seemed unconvincing. Scott’s gaze went from Allison to Isaac who seemed upset. Why would he be upset? Was he expecting some kind of standing ovation or something? Scott bit his lip as his forehead crinkled in confusion. However, before Isaac had left the stage he glanced once more at Scott and there it was again! That weird feeling in his stomach. Maybe Scott himself needed to use the bathroom. 

“Am I not right? Scott?” Lydia waved her hand in his face, snapping his attention back to reality.

“What?” He replied somewhat bewildered. Eyes snapping momentarily back at where Isaac had been standing, only to find it empty.

“As I was saying,” Lydia tried again, “I certainly enjoyed the show! It was rather.. intriguing!” She spoke albeit irresolutely. To which Danny rolled his eyes, “You mean Derek was intriguing and his tight shirt that left just enough to the imagination!” Danny grinned.

“Some of us don’t live in their imaginations, Danny,” Lydia wiggled her eyebrows at him cockily.

Stiles fell out of his seat at the mention of Derek’s name, arms and legs flailing all over the place. Looking up a little dishevelled and flustered he mumbled a quick, “Have to use the bathroom,” under his breath. Scott looked down at his friend and stood up as well. “Yep, me too!” He replied. Both men quick on their feet as they started down the rows of seats, heading for the exit.

“Okay.. Let’s pretend that wasn’t totally weird,” Danny frowned gazing at Lydia.

“Hmm.. he’s got an eye for Allison, obviously,” She shrugged gazing at her fabulous nail polish.

“Who, Scott?” Danny asked raising an eyebrow.

“Uh-hum,” Lydia replied as she looked up to see Allison approaching them.

“I’m sorry if it wasn’t what you had expected,” she smiled apologetically.

“What, no!” Danny and Lydia replied in unison.

“It was definitely worth it!” Lydia smiled brightly to which Danny rolled his eyes.

“She means Derek was,” Danny retorted. Smacking Danny on his arm with the back of her hand Lydia glared at him. “Anyway, he is hot and I would be an idiot not to notice,” she replied eyeing Danny as she said the word ‘idiot’.
Allison cleared her throat seeming bit uncomfortable, “Yeah, well he is a douche bag.” She shrugged feigning an apologetic look as she met Lyds’ eyes. To which Lydia snorted. “I always do like a challenge,” she raised her eyebrows, smiling crookedly.

“Well, I wanna bet that you are totally barking up the wrong tree, Lyds,” Danny smirked.

“As if. Do you really think I can’t distinguish guys playing for the other team?” She asked rhetorically.

“Oh, it is so on!” Danny smiled cockily.

Scott and Stiles approached them, breaking off any further banter.
“Done powdering your noses, ladies?” Lydia asked. Allison and Danny bursting into laughter. Scott blushed and looked down at his feet, suddenly finding them very interesting. Stiles just rolled his eyes but he just didn’t seem like his usual self. As matter of a fact, Stiles had been very quiet this entire time. Too quiet.

“Hey, you oke?” Lydia shouldered him as he took his seat next to hers.

“Just tired,” he replied smiling reassuringly though it didn’t reach his eyes. Lydia nodded understandingly nonetheless. She knew when to push his buttons and when not to. Whatever was up with Stiles, he would approach her when he felt ready. 


After the VIP show they all headed back to Allison’s bungalow.  Everyone walked towards their own, temporary, room. Stiles and Scott had decided to share one. They were like brothers, besides they could talk freely to each other without Lydia or Danny listening in on them. Not that Danny cared much but still.
Their room was big with two single beds on either side. Three out of the four walls and the ceiling were made of thick glass. Which was amazing because it allowed them to gaze over the surrounding woods and mountains. Their view was absolutely, breathtakingly, beautiful!

Scott plopped down onto his bed with an audible sigh. Stiles mirroring his movement as he laid back on his back. Gazing at the sky above them.
“Dude, I think she smiled at me,” Scott spoke after some time. Stiles raised himself up on one elbow, looking sheepishly at his friend.


“Allison,” Scott replied with a goofy grin plastered on his love-infected face.

“Dude, you having the hots for the circus chick?” Stiles smirked.

Throwing a pillow at Stiles, Scott pouted, “She’s not a circus chick. Her family owns it and yes, I think I do.” He said looking dreamily. Stiles took his phone out of his pocket and took a quick shot of Scott.

“Did you just take a picture?” He asked confused.

“Dude, you should totally see your face right now. You look like your puppy!” Stiles snickered, quickly shoving his phone back into the safety of his pocket.

“I miss that little snowball!” Scott said soberly. Completely forgetting about the photo Stiles had taken.

“Why don’t you name her already?”

“I don’t know. The names I come up with just don’t fit her. So I call her pup until I’ve found the perfect name for her, I guess,” he shrugged.

“She’s staying at your mom’s?” Stiles asked laying back on the bed again.

“Yeah, she loves mom.” Scott replied and lay back as well.

“So.. Allison. You gonna do something about it or?” Stiles’ voice broke the comfortable silence that had fallen upon them.

“Don’t know man, she’s way out of my league,” Scott replied grimly.

Scott twisted and turned while he tried to fall asleep but he couldn’t. This whole trip was making an insomniac out of him. Giving up on sleep, Scott shoved the covers off and stumbled out of his bed. He walked down the stairs, opting for getting something to drink from the kitchen.
Walking into the kitchen, he opened up the refrigerator and took out a box of orange juice. As he was pouring himself some, he noticed movement outside. He squinted his eyes, Scott could definitely make out a shape moving away from the bungalow. Setting his glass down, he approached the window, feeling alleviated for being too lazy before to turn the lights on. As he studied the moving silhouette, he noticed that it was very familiar. It’s posture matched.. Allison’s! Before he knew what the hell he was doing Scott was walking towards the door and out into the open area. Following Allison. Perhaps she couldn’t fall asleep as well? Maybe she would like his company. Man, he surely would like hers!

Scott followed Allison closely as she approached a quite massive building. As Allison opened up the entrance door to the building, Scott caught a glimpse of what was inside. It was nothing he expected or ever could have. Wait, was he seeing this right? The door closed with a bang, which seemed really loud to Scott’s ears; especially in the dead silence of the night. Feeling more confused than he ever had, Scott hurried back to the bungalow. He nearly ran up the stairs. Bursting into Stiles and his room, he shut the door behind him and went straight for Stiles.

“Stiles!” He hissed as he shook his friend.

“Stiles, wake up!” He slapped Stiles’ arm.

“Ouch!” Stiles groaned and he raised an arm and pushed Scott away.

“Dude, sleepn’ g’way,” he mumbled and pulled up his cover for good measure.

“Stiles, wake up, now!” Scott jumped on him. Making it impossible for Stiles to get back to sleep.

“Scott, I love you like a brother but not like this,” Stiles remarked.

Rolling his eyes, Scott got off. Searching through his bags, he found his puffer. Which calmed him down and eased his breathing a hell of a lot more. He then went to sit down beside Stiles’ bed.

“What’s up?” Stiles asked scratching at the back of his neck sheepishly. After a moment, Scott met his friend’s eyes, “Is it normal for a circus to have a training room?”

Stiles narrowed his eyes at his moron of a friend, “Ehh, maybe that is how they get so buffed up, d’uh!”

“No, it wasn’t like that,” Scott sighed heavily, looking at him with his puppy eyes. “Like a combat room or something?”

“Dude, were you in the same room when we were watching the acts? That Isaac guy threw knives! He threw a frikkin machete, Scott!” Stiles replied exasperated.

Looking like the quarter had finally fallen, Scott’s eyes went wide as he smiled sheepishly at Stiles.

“You should sleep. Insomnia is obviously making you paranoid ma man! Next, you’re going to wake me  up because you think you saw a panda practicing Kung-Fu!” Stiles snickered and laid back on his bed.

“Ha-ha,” Scott snorted and walked back towards his bed. Though right before he had laid himself down, the door to their room burst open, crashing forcefully against the window/wall behind it.

Chapter Text

Scott fell off his bed at the loud sound of their door being thrown open like that. In the doorway stood an older man, in his late thirties or early forties, gazing down at Scott with bemused eyes. Scott dared a quick glance at Stiles and noticed his best friend looked just as alarmed and speechless as he himself felt. The intruder held up one hand and only now did Scott notice the man was holding a glass of orange juice. What the..

“You’re Scott, I assume,” he spoke, gazing at both boys calculatingly. 
Scott could not seem to find his voice so instead he settled to nod vigorously.
“Good, I just came to say that you forgot your drink,” the side of the intruder’s mouth quirked the slightest bit upwards.    
Scott gazed at the man feeling utterly confused and flabbergasted.
“I’m sorry..” Scott replied half in question. Was it a crime to leave his drink behind? His mind was racing through everything one ought to be wrong with that but came up with none.

Hearing rustling beside him, Scott turned to see Stiles get up and off his bed. He then watched as Stiles made his way towards the strange man.



“I’m Stiles, Scott’s friend,” he introduced himself politely as he held out a hand towards the man.
“Chris, Allison’s father,” the man replied handing Stiles the drink instead. Without another word though he turned around and walked away, leaving Stiles and Scott behind more confused. Just as Stiles was about to close the door he stopped mid movement as his eyes fell on Lydia and Danny, who were rushing towards him.
“What the hell was that? Have you gone out of your mind Stiles? Throwing doors, seriously what part of we’re guests don’t you understand!” Lydia hissed, pointing an accusing finger at his chest. Danny standing right behind her, scratching the back of his head as he eyed Stiles warily.
“You ruined my McDreamy dream, including a hot, half naked, Derek!” She glared at the lot of them.
Rolling his eyes at her, Stiles stepped aside and motioned for them to come in. Ignoring the tendency to make a snarky comment to Lydia for dreaming about Derek, half naked. Which was done pretty easily, considering the fact that having that tendency in the first place unsettled him far more; because of certain reasons! Glaring at Stiles and Scott, Lydia walked in to their room and made herself at home on Stiles’ bed.
Stiles quirked an eyebrow at Danny in question to which Danny just shrugged and walked in as well.
As Stiles closed the door Scott finally got off the floor and sat on his bed, looking astound.

“So?” Lydia questioned eyeing the both of them annoyed.
“Oh yes Lydia, while I was being peacefully asleep I happened to sleepwalk towards the door to smash it into the wall,” Stiles threw his hands into the air exasperated, completely forgotten about the drink in his hand; which now covered the walls and floor.  


“Stiles!” Her tone took on a severe tone. Sighing to himself tiredly Stiles sat down beside Scott, placing the empty glass on the bedside table. To his surprise Scott replied before he had the chance to.

“It was Allison’s father, Chris Argent,” Scott announced without looking up.
“Now, why the hell would Chris smash your door, in the middle of the night might I add?” Lydia glared, getting impatient.
“He brought me my orange juice,” Scott shrugged, his frown deepening.
“He brought you.. your what?!” Danny repeated aghast.
“Were you dying from dehydration? Because, I will rip you two a new one if this is why I was awoken, rudely, at 4:30 AM!” Lydia snapped.
“Look, back off. It’s not like we know more than you do, oke,” Stiles replied curtly.

“I think I do,” Scott softly spoke after a moment of hesitation.
Stiles gazed at him, frowning, “what do you mean, you do?”
“It was to warn me,” Scott finally met his friends’ curious eyes. Stiles’ frown deepened at that,
“What? Why, because you forgot your stupid drink?”
“No, that’s irrelevant. What matters is the fact that he knows it was me,” Scott explained.
“I think it means that he knows I followed Allison,” Scott elaborated. Lydia sat up straight at this.
“You did what?” She asked incredulously. “Scott, please tell me you didn’t stalk Allison!”
“What, no! I didn’t stalk her. I just couldn’t sleep, so I went downstairs to get something to drink and then I saw Allison walking outside. I thought maybe she’d like some company,” he shrugged noncommittally. 

“Well, did she?” Danny inquired, joining the conversation.
Scott eyed him sheepishly at that, scratching the back of his neck he gave a one-shouldered shrug, “I didn’t really ask her. I followed her but she went into this weird combat building and I just ran back.”
“You know that police officers, as a matter of a fact, call that stalking, right?” Lydia pursed her lips into a thin line.
“And there is no such thing as a combat building here, I would know,” Lydia further stated.
“See buddy, even Lyds can affirm it,” Stiles said patting his friend gently on his shoulder.

“I’m not saying that Scott is right, because he’s Scott,” Danny spoke up thoughtfully, “but it still doesn’t explain why Allison’s father would show up at your room,” Danny pointed out.
“So, what if he followed Allison. It’s not like we’re prisoners here or that he remotely did anything wrong.”

“How does he even know it though,” Stiles said, thinking to himself out loud.
“He probably was there in the room with him. God, we all know how dense Scott can be sometimes. This is ridiculous guys, I’m going to go back to sleep!” Lydia sighed annoyed and got up.
“Try not the piss off the owners, again! ” With that she turned on her heels and strode out of the room.

Scott stared after her then turned back to Stiles and Danny, “I know it sounds like I’m imagining stuff but I have this feeling.. something’s not right,” Scott looked pleadingly at his friends.
“First that thing with Isaac, then Allison going to a combat building in the middle of the night and now her father showing up to point out that he, apparently, knows everything that is going on.. Stiles you have to believe me man.”
Stiles nodded solemnly at that. Scott was not the only one to leave with an uneasy feeling after that private show. There had been something about Derek’s ways as well. Even though Stiles could not pinpoint what that exactly implicated.

“I believe you, bro. We can always look into things tomorrow,” Stiles reassured him. Scott smiled at that, one that reached his eyes.
“I’d tell you two to get a room but you already do, so I’m going to leave and get back to mine instead,” Danny smiled crookedly at them, pointing his thumb in the general direction of the door.
Before he left though he half turned back towards them, “for what it’s worth I believe you too, Scott.” He nodded and left, closing the door gently behind him.

Staring at the closed door Stiles averted his gaze towards Scott. Then punched him in the arm.
“Ouch! What the hell!” Scott shot him his confused puppy eyes.
“That’s for me being awoken by you, again! Oh, and you’re totally cleaning that stupid orange juice!” Stiles smirked as he got back to his bed.
Scott groaned as he let himself fall back onto his bed.
“You suck!”
“No, I don’t.”






Two hours later, Stiles was still tossing and turning in his bed. The whole situation with Chris Argent and Scott had got him thinking. He got up, showered and dressed. “I’m not going to get much sleep anyway,” Stiles muttered. Loud snoring came from the other bed in his room.
Of course he would still be asleep, he sleeps through anything. Stiles' eyes shot daggers at Scott. Closing the door behind him, he headed downstairs. The kitchen contained a coffeemaker. Pure heaven. With a press on the coffeemaker’s button, coffee started brewing. Stiles grabbed a mug and made certain it was filled to the brim with the life elixir called coffee. No trace of Chris was left behind last night, not even muddy boot prints or anything. He sat down at the kitchen bar with his mug of coffee. Stiles was mulling over the current situation. He knew what Scott told him was true, he could believe that much. But what was so secretive about it?

“Gaaaaah!” he exclaimed out loud. Stiles then caught himself.
Lydia will murder me if she heard that.
Decidedly, it was a better option to go outside than stay indoors. The outdoors gave him the possibility to think aloud without waking the others. Besides, what good would it do to stay inside, while trying to figure out this conundrum. Stiles put on his trainers and walked out of the bungalow.

The first thing he did was backtrack to where Scott claimed to have seen the training center. If there was any way to verify that something fishy was going on, it would be that. The surroundings were monitored cautiously by Stiles. He did not want to run into anyone nor get Scott into more trouble. If he was in any trouble that is. The edge of the forest seemed to be the easiest way to sneak around. If anything he could hide behind a bush or some pine trees. Stiles walked the outer perimeter to the supposed training center. After a good twenty minutes of walking, a building popped up in front of him.

I think this would be the building Scott was talking about.

He emerged cautiously from the forest. With all his caution he failed to see the thick branch in front of his feet and tumbled forward. He arose quickly and looked around like a meerkat does when scouting for danger. Luckily, no one was around. Scurrying to an area with a window, he decided to peek inside. One can see more in broad daylight then in the night time after all. The window itself was too high, fortunately there was a dumpster close by. Stiles lifted himself onto the dumpster and looked inside.

Damn this thing reeks. I better take three more showers when I get home.

Stiles gazed inside. The gym looked pretty ordinary. It had a fighting mannequin commonly used in Judo, Karate or Taekwondo. Not that odd. Some regular exercising equipment. Can’t see anyone having a need to hide that. A long hallway to the right had some archery dummies and a few bow stacks to it.

Peculiar but maybe someone likes archery?

And then there was a big wall with axes, swords, maces other various blunt weapons, guns, heavy artillery. Now that certainly isn’t normal. No wonder they were trying to hide this place. A door opened on the inside and a blonde woman entered. Stiles thought her name was Kate. At the recognition, he fell off the dumpster, shocked. His ass took the brunt of the impact but it still hurt. She did not seem to have heard it inside, so Stiles was safe for now.

Time to scram.

Stiles backtracked into the woods and back towards the cabin they were staying in. From there he walked towards one of the gates to enter the property of the Argents. One of the guards recognized him and allowed him in. This time a day, only workfolk and artists from the circus walked on the grounds. A lean, shirtless and well-muscled guy with dark hair was constructing a booth. Stiles recognized that body from a mile away, it was Derek.

“Ehm.. Hello!” Stiles stammered.
“I don’t know if you remember me but I am the guy from yesterday, who saw that show of you with my friends.”

Derek's jaw clenched, his posture tensing. This near to Derek, Stiles could feel the faint range of emotions coursing through Derek like a river. It left him rather bewildered as to how he was able to feel that. Perhaps it was just a figment of his imagination.   

Stiles scratched his head, “Did I do something wrong to you?”

Surveying his surroundings, Derek's nostrils flared as he suddenly slammed Stiles into the pillar of the booth he had just set upright.

“You're existing!” Derek spit out, glaring daggers at the him.
“Dude, what the fuck!" Stiles looked around for security of some sort, or anyone else viewing the spectacle.
“Let me go! Or I.. I'll scream for help!” He tried to speak without the tremble in his voice becoming too obvious. Derek eyed him with an angry stare but let go of him. 
“Don't come near me.”

Stiles did not know what inspired this behaviour.
“What is your problem? I did nothing wrong! ” Stiles exclaimed angrily, feeling seriously sore.

Damn that Derek packs quite a punch.

His back and neck ached. He could have expected it though, after yesterday's show. If Derek had the ability to lift all those heavy objects and Stiles’ friends and himself. Surely he could easily break someone as fragile as Stiles.

“Stay away,” Derek growled threateningly, “you got your show now back off the way you came!” Derek hissed and turned his back towards him. Though as Stiles eyed him he could almost visibly see Derek's inner turmoil when all of a sudden his body went rigid, cold sweat trickling down his back.
Derek’s composure frankly looked somewhat fearful.
“What's going on?!” Stiles asked again softly. “Why do you seem to be so afraid of me?” He dared a step closer towards the other. Derek did not seem to respond so Stiles started to ramble, to get his attention.
"My name is Stiles, I am on a vacation with my friends Lydia, Scott and Danny. Lydia was the one who organized this trip.” Still no response. “My favourite colour is blue, I am a world-wide known businessman and inventor and uhh...I own a jeep, she is a beauty by the way.”

What do I have to do, to get answers out of this guy.

“Look, tell me what's wrong, I’ll pay you a hundred dollars.” Stiles tried the international language.
“What the hell is a Stiles,” Derek snorted rhetorically. Derek eyed heaven as if asking for patience.
“I'm a Stiles,” Stiles said smirking. He finally got another response from Derek. At least the conversation was going somewhere. He could somehow determine what Derek was feeling. It was annoyance but also underlined with fear.
“Shut up and go away.” Derek's voice took on a commanding tone.

Ignoring that comment Stiles changed tactics.
“Look, this might sound strange but..I think I can feel what you're feeling, is it just me, because if not I might be going insane!” He looked at Derek pointedly. “And I can't shut up, I'm Stiles.” He stated making an ‘obviously’ motion with his hand. It seemed as if Derek was having an inner battle to regain his composure. However, at the mention of the connected feels he paled. Derek turned around with a scowl, glaring at Stiles as he approached him then grabbed him at back of his neck and pulled him behind the booth.

“That’s your brain trying to inform you that you’re highly in need of a therapist,” Derek scoffed.
“Oh, look who thinks he’s being funny!” Stiles exclaimed pouting as he tried to free himself from the guy, in vain.
“Go, away.”
“Not until I get some frikkin answers and let go of me dammit!” Stiles exclaimed as he struggled in the others grip. Derek eyed the hand attached to Stiles and seemed to realize something, because he quickly let go and took a good step back. Though his features changed back into their former mask of impassiveness. Putting up a blank front.
“Derek!” Stiles nearly shouted from agitation.
“How about this for an answer, the 'feelings' you're experiencing are called schizophrenia, now shut up and go away!” Derek stated, a hint of amusement in his eyes though it passed so quickly, Stiles wondered if he had imagined it.
“Dude rude! I have ADD but I know I’m not schizophrenic because otherwise I would be hearing voices and not having to deal with your stupid feelings!” Stiles huffed, feeling shamelessly proud of himself for out smarting Derek. The ginormous, slightly creepy, oke a lot of creepy, muscled dude who could lift massive objects like it was nothing. Derek actually growled out him, like a legit animal ‘I’m going to eat your face’ growl. Without warning Stiles was being roughly pushed aside, falling harshly on his ass as Derek stalked away.
“Rude!” Stiles groaned as he sighed eyeing his shaking hands. His palms were cut open as they had tried to intercept the impact of his fall.
Stiles stood up and wiped his hands on his pants, temporarily forgotten that they were bleeding.


Stiles decided to resume his little private investigation, seeing he had all the time in the world. Besides maybe he found a first-aid kit somewhere in the circus. What with all the acts they performed they had to have a dozen first-aid kits. As Stiles made his way towards the circus a couple of things caught his attention. They seemed minor at first, if he were to rationalize them but after his conversation with Scott and Danny last night he could not help but notice how odd and out of place they were. There were at least a dozen surveillance camera’s around each corner and building, some even attached to trees. A little sense of security was one thing but frankly this seemed like too much of an effort for a circus. Stiles knew the Argents were loaded but even he was not this paranoid. He had not installed camera’s all around his house in Beacon Hills. Nearing the circus Stiles’ observant gaze fell on couple of security men. Each standing at their own posts, it seemed. Stiles being a tech freak and the son of a Sheriff knew how to dodge the camera’s and security men in order to sneak his way into the circus through a 'personnel’s only' exit.

Surely, he could use the audience entrance they had yesterday but he was sure that this exit would lead him somewhere different. What Stiles found was not anything he had dared to find. There were loads of hallways, each leading into another one. Though instead of the clean, colourful ones Stiles had expected, these were grungy and dirty but above all there was a stench Stiles could not quite place. Every now and then he would see couple of darkened stains on the walls and ground but he did not bother with those. Probably paint or whatever. Stiles had perhaps been wandering around for what seemed like hours, trying to open some doors he came across but never being successful. Though he had to be vigilant to not walk into some of the hallways where security men stood on guard.

As Stiles was about to give up, because honestly he had had enough. Yes, he had noticed a lot of strange things that were just out of place but this walking around hallway after hallway was driving him insane. That is when he felt an intense amount of pain surge through him, it was like nothing he had ever felt before. However, it was not his. Stiles eyed himself confused.. when slowly it clicked into place where the pain was coming from. It was Derek’s. Stiles was dashing off without even intending to. His legs were taking him to somewhere even he did not know where it was. It was as if his mind and body were done ignoring the pull of whatever he had felt with Derek, and instead were following its lead. Stiles stumbled into a rickety staircase leading to who knows where. “Shit!” He breathed harshly, putting his hands on his head feeling like he was losing his mind. With an aggravated sigh he ran down the stairs and followed the feeling in his gut and the pain seemed to intensify the closer he got. That is when he came to stand still in front of a chamber of sorts, the stench he had smelt before was intensified here and the lights flickered on and off. When realization hit him Stiles almost doubled over at the knowledge that the stench was the smell of blood. He was getting sick to his stomach.

“Derek?” Stiles’ small voice wavered. He took a step closer towards the chamber and pushed the door open. At the end of the dark room a silhouette was visible, lying motionless on the ground. Stiles scrambled towards the unmoving figure, knowing in his gut that it had to be Derek.

God, is he dead?! His mind was reeling. 

To his confirmation, yes, it was Derek. Stiles slapped him on the cheek, “Derek! Derek, wake up!” His voice trembled with emotion. Emotions he could not make sense of. He did not even know this guy but it felt like he was losing a huge part of himself. The feeling weighing heavily on his heart.
Stiles pulled one hand back and punched him in the jaw, “Derek!” He yelled exasperated. Derek’s eyes blinked a couple of times, his head lulling from one side to the other. His hand came up to grab Stiles at his collar.

“Punch me again and I will kill you,” he threatened half-heartedly in a gravelly voice.
“Oh my god! Of course that is the first thing you would say!” Stiles exclaimed annoyed though deep down he was relieved like hell.
“Oh thank you Stiles for saving my brooding, annoying ass!” Stiles mimicked Derek’s voice putting a hand against his own chest in pretense flattery.
“You are very welcome Derek, anytime!” Stiles went on.
Derek eyed him annoyed from the gritty ground he was lying on.
“You done talking to yourself?” Derek asked raising an eyebrow at him.
“Like hell I’m not! What the hell did just happen?” Stiles questioned this time shaking Derek for emphasis. He needed answers like yesterday! That’s when his eyes fell on the bracelet attached to Derek’s wrist, grabbing onto his wrist Stiles’ eyes scrutinized it. Black vine like swirls ran from the bracelet up Derek’s arm. Derek’s entire posture went rigid trying to snatch his wrist back.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He snapped.
“What does it look like I’m doing! Why are you wearing a prisoners bracelet?” Stiles asked shocked.
Derek’s eyes dilated in what seemed to be actual fear, Stiles could even feel it through whatever vague link they had.
“Derek what is going on? You were knocked out when I found you and now you’re wearing this bizarre modified version of the bracelets I designed,” Stiles’ voice was shallow. Derek flinched away from him, he literally, whole bodily flinched away from Stiles’ touch.
“Get out!” He growled trying to get on his feet.
“No! You cannot fucking deny this again, Derek! I found you through a real link, I felt your pain! That is not normal, is it! So explain it to me dammit!” Stiles demanded stepping closer to him.

Derek was silent for a long couple of seconds that seemed to go by slower than ever. Before his face went blank and he eyed Stiles straight on.
“Did you tell anyone about it?” He growled dangerously.
“Ehh, no? Should I have?” Stiles asked frowning taken aback at the sudden confirmation, even if it came in the form of a question.

Why had Derek turned so pale?

“What are you hiding from me?” Stiles inquired. Though he should not have because Derek was grabbing him painfully at his collar, again.
“If you tell anyone about it, I will rip your throat, with my teeth,” Derek growled threateningly, his grasp on him tightening painfully.
“And if you tell anyone about what happened here I will rip your heart out.” Derek shook him for good measure then pushed him away.
“Get out!” Derek growled, his eyes flashing scarlet.

What the hell! Stiles scrambled back, tripping over his own feet and was out the door without needing to be told twice.

As Stiles ran back to the bungalow his mind was racing a thousand miles a minute. Because that was not normal. Shit like that did not happen, not in real life. But it had and Stiles had seen it himself. No matter how Derek had reacted Stiles knew, hell he could feel, that Derek was more terrified of him than the other way around. Stiles’ modified bracelet proved that much. Stiles practically crashed through the front door, grabbed the keys and took off into town. He was going to need a few specific items, that could be bought homemade. Though actually putting them together would take some time, maybe a lot of time. He had not exactly made one of these before, but he supposed he could find it on Google. When he got into town, he visited the hardware store, the appliance store and the local grocery store. All the items he needed were neatly placed in brown paper bags onto the backseat of his car. The only problem was, he had to find a place to actually create it. He could not do it on circus grounds nor near the cabin. Stiles decided he would go into the forest, outside of the small town and work on his creation there.





The next day, which came way too fast for Scott, he was woken up by Lydia; who was poking him in the chest as she tapped her foot impatiently.

“Scott! It’s 2:00 PM, even Stiles is awake and away. Get up or I swear to everything you hold dear, I will drag your ass out of bed!” She threatened, placing both her hands on her hips.
Scott groaned sleepily. He had slept like shit and besides what was there for him to do anyways.
“Go’way!” He murmured pulling his pillow over his ears so he did not have to hear her shrill voice.  
“That’s it!” Lydia snapped pulling the covers away. The second that happened Scott realized two things at once. One, this was a battle already lost, which meant he had to get up. Two, it was morning, for Scott that is. So, Scott being a young, healthy dude and all and it being morning and all, there was a slight problem.. in his pants. That was about to be noticed by none other than Lydia of all people!


Scott shot up straight as if hit by lightning, hands snatching the covers back. Panic painting his features.
“Lydia, go away. I’m wide awake, so you can leave and go torture Danny with your shopping or whatever.” Scott muttered annoyed.
“Whatever, have it your way,” she replied, tossing her hair over her shoulder and striding towards the entrée.
Just as Scott was about to sigh in relieve though, she half turned around and eyed him with knowing eyes, smiling smugly, “oh and you should do something about the situation in your pants before you come downstairs,” she walked out almost closing the door but her hand came to rest on the door preventing it from closing shut, “unless you want Allison to see your Alli-boner,” she shrugged and with that left.
“Oh.My.God!” Scott groaned horrified and fell on his back. She did not just give his morning wood a frikkin name. Not just a name but the name of the girl he was crushing on! Could the ground please swallow him up? Anytime now..

Ten minutes passed, Scott still in bed, his hands covering his eyes still mortified when he heard someone knock on the door gently.
“Go away, Lydia!” He yelled agitated.
“Scott?” Came the soft reply from a voice that was most definitely not Lydia’s. Pulling the covers even higher Scott’s heart rate accelerated immensely, because that sweet voice belonged to Allison. Who was about to see him, in bed. With his hair all messed up and a frikkin tent inside his pants!     

“Allison!” Scott’s voice sounded high-pitched as he replied scrambling out of bed to block the door if necessary.
“Lydia told me to check up on you, are you oke in there?” She asked sweetly, hint of a smile to her tone.

That traitor!

“Yeah… Yes! I’m fine, just going to take a shower. Be downstairs in couple of minutes!” He replied hastily. Rushing to get clean clothes from out of  his suitcase. Balling his clothes into his hands and trying to hide his tented pants with them, he opened the door. At the sight of Allison smiling brightly at him he could not help himself from smiling goofily back at her. His heart was about to burst through his ribcage.
“Hi,” she greeted, biting her lower lip.
“Hey,” he replied, eyes on her lip between her teeth.
“You, eh..” Allison looked over her shoulder and then back at Scott, her eyes lingering on his lips for a second then shot back up to his eyes, “There are towels!” She stated curtly.
Scott not following the conversation eyed her confused, “what?”
“You said you were going for a shower,” she explained.

God her smile! He thought to himself. It did crazy things to his heart.

All of his focus was zoomed on her every movement. The way her perfect curls moved as she spoke. The ever present dimples on her cheeks. How her eyes seemed to sparkle when she looked at him. At least that is what Scott liked to believe, that he was the reason for it.
Shit, his boxer started to feel very tight, too tight.

His eyes snapped at that, “yeah! Thanks,” he said rapidly, swallowing hard as he walked past her.
“For the towels!” He called over his shoulders and looked back just for a second to see if she was still looking. She was, and she was still smiling ever so dazzlingly at him. He stumbled over his own feet and almost crashed face-first on the floor, almost. He turned round, his cheeks burning with embarrassment as he heard her low chuckle behind him. Not daring to look back again, he scrambled his way to the bathroom at the end of the hallway. Scott took the longest cold shower of his life. Once he had gotten downstairs the others, except for Danny, had already left the house.

“It’s alive,” Danny smiled at him when he walked into the kitchen.
“Shut up,” Scott groaned as he sat himself down.
Danny rolled his eyes at him but pushed a plate of pancakes with strawberry’s on the side towards him.
“That’s all I could save for you,” he confessed.
“Thanks dude,” Scott smiled up at him.
“Oh and there is someone here to see you,” Danny informed him nonchalantly and walked out of the kitchen without any further explanation.
“Who?” Scott questioned while chewing on a strawberry.
Just as he had spoken a tall, stoic looking Isaac walked into the kitchen. Despite the impassive look on his face, he appeared to be  haggard. 
Scott was taken aback at seeing him again. The feeling he had had before, during the private show was making a reappearance. Swallowing harshly Scott watched as Isaac sat down across from him. After a tense moment of silence Scott was the first to break.

“Hey,” his voice barely audible. In fact he wondered if Isaac had even heard him. Swallowing once again to clear the lump in the back of his throat. Isaac’s eyes scrutinized Scott’s face, trailing over his body as if looking for something. If Scott knew better he would dare to think there was a glint of assessment in the other’s eyes. Although that would not make much sense, now would it? Did Isaac think there was something wrong with Scott?
“I’m Scott,” Scott introduced himself, trying once again. Giving him a lopsided smile. Isaac probably had not heard him.
“Isaac,” came in a harsh reply. Isaac’s eyes fell on his plate and the second he saw Scott noticing this he averted his eyes, a distinct tinge of hatred to them.
“You hungry?” Scott asked smiling politely.
“No,” Isaac replied harshly and Scott felt a wave of envy surge through him. Though it was very faint and it was not his own emotion. But it had to be, there was no other explanation for it. Though why would Scott feel envy, at what?

Uhg, his emotions were not making any sense!

Before Scott had a chance to question Isaac’s reason for visiting, the other was already getting up to leave.
For an unfathomable reason Scott felt distressed at the sudden departing of the other. There was just this unexplainable gut feeling that was pulling him towards the other boy.  As much as it made him uncomfortable it made him long for something as well.

Answers probably.

Scott got quickly to his feet, “Wait!” His voice half pleaded as he hurryingly made his way to Isaac. Isaac stopped, an eyebrow raised in question.
“Danny said you came to see me,” Scott said but noticed Isaac’s posture changing. He was going to leave anyways! Scott held up a firm hand up, almost touching the other.
“Did I personally offend you or something?” He asked utterly confused, his eyes looking at the other uncertainly.
“You’re standing in my way, for one,” Isaac replied coldly.
Scott pouted, sighing frustrated, “Is that why you’re angry? Look I’m sorry if we didn’t give you and the other guy a standing ovation yesterday, oke.” Scott looked like a puppy that had been scolded at. Isaac snorted at that a cynical smile tugging at his lips.   
“We don’t care about what you guys do or your claps.” He gritted out stepping intimidatingly closer.     
“Dude, I don’t know what your problem is but you came to see me, remember,” Scott remembered the jackass of the obvious. Isaac pushed him aside and stormed out of the house, slamming the door shut behind him. And if Scott was feeling a dozen different emotions at the moment, ones he could not even make sense of or the fact that he felt compelled to follow Isaac, well then he was going to ignore it all. He had tried. He had been nice and it was obvious that this Isaac dude was probably getting underpaid or whatever, and knew that Scott and his friends were loaded; therefore probably despised the lot of them. Sadly, it had become a very well known reaction people often seemed to have towards them.



Isaac stalked back towards the circus, using all of his heightened senses to make sure no one would see or hear him. Though he knew that the camera’s had sighted him and he was even more screwed now that he had entered the Argent house. As if he and his pack had not have to deal with enough, as it was. Yesterday at the sudden arrival of the group of young entrepreneurs, Derek and Isaac were taken aside and told they had to perform a private show. Including some newly added acts. The reason for them two being chosen was simply because they were the only two who knew not to misbehave in front of others. Jackson being the most unreliable performer of the pack was kept at his chamber, despite his quick recovery. However, everyone knew that Derek had something to do with Jackson’s fast recovery even though neither would admit as much out loud. Jackson’s wolf had calmed down quite a bit and his overall behaviour towards Derek and the pack had changed somewhat. Erica, after her last performance was the pack member considered with the least control over her wolf. She was thrown off the list as well. Although that is not to say she minded the decision at all. It gave her rather much needed peace of mind to know she was no longer considered an alarming and unstable factor in the Argents’ eyes. Peter for all his worth was not even considered. For whatever reason he was left out of all of this. Isaac theorized that it was due to his shape shifting ability. Out of them all, Peter was the one who was the most obvious werewolf; what with his abominable shape and features. That left Derek and Isaac. Both men reluctantly accepting their fate, in order to keep the others save and away from the Argents, whenever possible. Besides, it was just one act and then all this nonsense would be over with.

When Isaac had come face to face with his Alpha before their little show, he noticed how the older man looked weary and appeared much older than twenty six. Derek looked beat, like his hope and love for his pack was literally the only thing keeping him upright. The beatings, cold showers, electric shocks, burnings from his act, healing his pack and all the other atrocities he was enduring were taking his life, piece by piece. Until there was nothing left to take, their Alpha was becoming a broken shell of his old self. It broke Isaac’s heart and left him feeling utterly helpless. He wanted to support and heal his Alpha. Take all of his pain and sadness away. Even if Derek never admitted to any of it, even if he acted he was doing perfectly fine; Isaac knew it was just an act. Since Derek had stepped up his game as their Alpha, manning up and had become much more responsible and caring for his pack, Isaac had started to view his Alpha more like a good friend and a brother than just an Alpha.

As their act started everything seemed to go accordingly, nothing out of the ordinary except for their audience consisting of four people instead of thousands. Allison was playing the hostess instead of The Joker. Though in Isaac’s personal opinion, as marred as The Joker’s face was, to which he owed his nickname to, so was Allison’s personality and entire being. Thus in a way both of them were pretty much the same on that matter.

However during Isaac’s act as he eyed the audience, his eyes fell on a black haired guy, olive skinned, and the second their eyes locked Isaac almost lost control over his wolf. It was howling inside of him, clawing at Isaac’s insides to listen to it. Because there was something awfully terrifying about this guy, terrifying because he felt familiar to Isaac. Felt like a long lost piece of a puzzle finally falling into its rightful place. Though Isaac could swear on his life that he did not know this guy, nor could he explain the sudden need of his wolf wanting to be near him. Whatever Isaac was feeling, the guy’s features had changed as well, he came across as uncomfortable. Isaac quickly looked away, approaching his equipment table and grabbing onto the first thing he could grasp. Which turned out to be a machete and he threw it as fast as he could, just wanting to be away from all of this. Both he and Allison flinched when the wooden sheet broke into two parts. He needed to find Derek as soon as possible. Though before Isaac left the stage he glanced once more at the peculiar guy and flinched internally when he saw him looking directly in his eyes. Isaac hurriedly left the stage thereafter.

Mine... His wolf growled inside of him and just that terrified Isaac further. He could not become the next Erica, he could not lose his control over some stranger. But the farther he got from the stage the more restless and uncontrollable his wolf became. He could still hear the beating of the audience’s hearts. Could hear them talk among themselves. Could hear when one of them fell out of their seats. Was it the guy Isaac was losing control of his wolf over? Was he hurt? Why the hell did Isaac care! Shaking himself mentally, Isaac made a beeline towards Derek’s room. His resolve so petit that his claws were already extended and his fangs had come through, eyes flashing golden, when he finally reached Derek’s room. Only to find it empty. Swallowing the sudden lump in his throat Isaac tried to sniff out his Alpha, concentrating on the beating of his heart and definitely ignoring the irregular beating of the guy’s. Isaac found Derek in Peter’s room, who was sitting upright hands clasped together on his bouncing legs as he eyed Derek accusingly.

“Derek,” came Isaac’s raspy voice. Derek eyed him once and it was enough to catch his full attention. To Isaac’s utter bafflement Derek himself did not look much better. As a matter of a fact Derek’s eyes were shinning bright crimson.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” Derek asked alarmed stepping closer. Isaac shook his head trying to calm himself down because there was something way more important going on, something upsettingly enough to make Derek lose his control.
“It eh.. is probably nothing, it can wait,” Isaac hesitantly assured. “What’s wrong with you?” He asked instead. A low growl erupted through Derek’s throat, loud enough to make Isaac squirm against the wall, and back the hell up.

Peter rolled his eyes and sighed as he explained the matter, “It is very possible that my brooding nephew over here has found his mate.”
Derek let out a full on growl at that, clearly warning Peter to shut his mouth.
“Derek..” Isaac reached a hand towards him against better judgment, “I.. I eh, I think I did too,” Isaac whispered so softly it almost went unheard to their heightened hearing abilities.
Within a blink Derek had his hand on Isaac’s throat pushing him up the wall growling at him. Isaac shut his eyes too mortified to face his Alpha.

“Derek, calm yourself. I don’t think he’s talking about yours,” Peter sighed exaggerated.
Derek eyed Peter suspiciously and then turned back to Isaac and growled, “Which one?”
“Black hair, olive coloured skin, looking mostly confused,” Isaac described rapidly.
Derek let go of him and stepped back. “This can’t be true. I don’t have a mate. I don’t even have a living family and now all of a sudden someone walks in and I’m expected to believe he’s my mate?” Derek spit out, glaring at Peter.
Peter ignored his nephew’s half outrage and laid back on his bed, placing both his hands casually behind his head, “yes. Unless you choose to ignore it, either way I do not care, really. So get out of my room,” he huffed making a shooing motion with his hand at the both of them.
Derek growled threateningly at Peter, his wolf incapable of putting up with Peter’s behaviour.
Peter raised an amused eyebrow, “I’m not your pack and you’re not my Alpha, Derek. You requested my knowledge on this matter and I gave it to you, now get out of my territory,” Peter ended the last part on a growl of his own, eyes flashing scarlet.

Derek turned around, grabbing Isaac by his collar and dragging him outside as he left the room. Derek was too pissed off and moody to explain anything to Isaac, except for commanding him to go back to his room and stay there. Isaac shrugged resigned and decided to ask his Alpha about it at a later moment.

Much later that night Isaac had laid wide awake, unable to fall asleep. Not after the turn of events. He had a mate. Isaac Lahey had a mate. It was not Erica. It was not even a girl, but a guy! Isaac did not even like guys, not like that! So, now he were to put all of his old feelings and thoughts aside and accept this.. Accept the fact that his mate was a dude. Who probably did not even like him, because what did Isaac even have to offer? His wolf howled at the thought. Isaac was scarred and tainted and above all else he was an abomination.

The hours passed even slower than normally and Isaac just could not help himself from listening and seeking out the beating of his heart. He could hear it faintly, far away, if he concentrated completely. Though through whatever it was he could sort of feel it. There was just this faint underlying flood of emotions that surged through him, of which Isaac knew now were most definitely not his own. Eyeing the sleeping form of Erica in the cradle of his arms, Isaac let out a heavy sigh. Why could she not be his mate. God, it was unfair! As time ticked by slowly, Isaac’s inner turmoil became less and less noticeable as sleep was taking over his mind. A flare of panic surged through Isaac as his wolf howled for him to wake up. His eyes shooting wide open, Isaac sat up straight looking around him in panic. Erica groaned at his sudden movement and murmured sleepily, though it was drown out by her pillow. Isaac softly apologized as he got out of bed, pulling the covers gently back over Erica. It was the guy, his heart beat had gone through the roof and his wolf, of course, had sensed it even in his unconscious state of mind.

Isaac dashed towards the sound of the pounding heart rate of the guy, despite himself. He was being driven by his wolf and his wolf only. As he followed it he came to a stop behind the Argent bungalow.

Oh no! A wave of panic surged through him at the knowledge of his mate sleeping in enemy territory. God he was starting to really despise this guy! If only his damned wolf could shut the hell up, he could get back to his bed. Hold Erica in his arms and pretend the entire world did not exist. As Isaac was trying to think of a plan to sneak his way inside, he came to the realization that he did not need to. The Argents were hell bent on keeping things secret and of course they would not lock their doors and secure it like usual. Opting for the front door, Isaac glanced over his shoulders for good measure and let himself inside. Approaching the room soundlessly where someone was seated at, Isaac noticed a guy sitting at the kitchen table reading something off a small screen. Clearing his throat to make his presence known Isaac glanced at the guy. He could hear another heartbeat upstairs. Of which he knew it belonged to his mate. He wished he could just strode up the stairs, make sure his mate was oke and leave the way he had come. But, Isaac did not have a death wish. So he was going to approach things the human way.

“Oh, hi, you’re Isaac right?” The guy asked as he smiled charmingly at Isaac. Isaac nodded.
“I’m Danny Mahealani, it’s nice meeting you Isaac,” the Danny guy introduced himself politely.
“Sure,” Isaac replied with a half hearted shrug. Danny frowned slightly at him but did not further comment on it.
“You looking for someone? The others headed out half an hour ago,” Danny explained.
Isaac nodded again, “yeah,” he said looking unsure of himself. Could that idiot just get down here so he could be done with this shit!
“I’m looking for someone, yes,” Isaac replied. Danny smiled, all dimply and bright eyes. Gosh, what was up with this guy and all the smiling? Did Isaac look like a frikkin clown or something?

“You can sit down while you wait for whoever it is you’re looking for,” Danny said and eyed the seat across from where he was sitting at. Isaac shook his head, he could hear his mate walking out of the room he had been in.
“No, I’m good.”
“Oke, suit yourself.”

Isaac walked back towards the front door, gazing outside for any Argents or guards but did not find one, at the moment. 

That’s how Isaac had met his mate, Scott. Once he had laid eyes upon him and made sure he was oke, he had been infuriated. Because this entire time his mate was oke, there was nothing wrong with him. And there Isaac was risking too much to find out about just that. Though to his credit Scott was not the complete oblivious idiot, he had appeared to be. It was obvious his mate was sensing the same underlying emotions as Isaac did. That meant that somehow they were linked; also Isaac seriously needed some answers from Derek as soon as frikkin possible. Isaac could not help the envy he had felt at the sight of how these people were treated, and how lowly he and his pack were. It was killing him softly to know how truly deprived and worthless they were in comparison. Isaac had quickly left and if he had been rude and harsh towards Scott then he could not care. Because this had to be a mistake. Things could not be so unfair. There was no way in hell Scott would ever accept him as a worthy human being, let stand as a mate. The second Isaac set foot into the circus, away from seeing eyes he felt the familiar jolt of electricity surging through his body. His teeth clenched together from pain, his claws digging painfully into his flesh. Though the shock just would not stop, it went on and on until Isaac felt darkness claim him.





Isaac woke up the same place where the pain had caused him to black out. He did not know what happened but he could tell someone got punished. The others suffered the same fate, it was how the system worked. Isaac righted himself and started looking for Erica. Maybe she would still be in their room. He headed for their private room. They had the luxury of getting a genuine room, instead of cage like Derek or Jackson. Erica and he himself tried to keep a low profile and thusly it got them a personal room. It was a lot given the situation they were in. The door to their room was already open and music was blasting from the inside. Isaac entered and stood in the doorway.

“That junk again?” he yelled over the music. Erica’s head turned toward Isaac. “I see someone’s back again.” Isaac shrugged. He still felt glum about his situation. His mood was not going to change for a while anyway– Erica noticed.
“What’s wrong Isaac?”
Isaac shrugged again. He was not used to opening up to people. Though.. Erica has been with him for so long. They had been through so much that he did trust her.
“I’m in a situation…,” He started. Isaac swallowed. He liked Erica, yet here he was, trying to explain how he had found his mate.

“A group of people came here, friends of the Argents.” Erica made a sour face. Regardless she continued listening to Isaac, she knew that he had to get this off his chest.
“Among one of those people, there was a guy I felt a connection to. It’s not how it sounds by the way, I’m not in love with him. I think,” he stammered. Cause I love you Erica.
“Anyway, among that group was another male who is apparently Derek’s mate.” This got a gasp out of Erica, “No way! What the fuck.”

 Isaac continued, “I talked to Derek afterwards who was already in a bad mood due to his discovery.
“He almost choked me to death. I’m not supposed to talk about this. Peter has the answers to my questions but he is not my Alpha. Derek is, but he won’t talk about it.” Isaac cast his eyes to the floor, swallowing the lump in his throat. Erica got up from her bed and took Isaac’s hand. She pulled him towards her bed and sat down with him, an arm around his waist. Now within Erica’s comfort, he felt he could go on with his problems.
“Now I have all these feelings and issues with no one to talk to.” He looked sideways to Erica. “No offense, but only Derek truly understands this situation right now, though thanks for listening.”

Now that he was looking at Erica, he saw her beauty again. Feelings conflicting inside him. “I don’t even like my mate. I don’t know him and there is someone I do like. That’s why this is so confusing.”
Erica nodded, acknowledging Isaac for who he was. Isaac felt like he had nothing to lose at this point. “Erica, you’re the one that I like, love. I have for a while.”
She was not shocked. Not the slightest.
“Finally you’ve had the balls to say it. I love you as well stupid, I have been waiting on you to say it.” She nuzzled his neck. “How are we going to do this Isaac?” she asked him. Now that the word was out, he actually felt more despair. He had found his mate, but on the other hand there now was Erica, who he loved and who also loved him. Isaac felt there was no way out. An invisible hand gripping his neck, choking him like Derek had, one he could not run away from, could not run away from this place, this imprisonment. It was impossible to leave this place, unless it was in a body bag, if you are lucky. Yet he would be confronted with all his problems non-stop. His mate would be on the premises for who knows how long. Derek will always be Derek and his love for Erica will always be conflicted.

Being here with Erica only complicated things. Yet he felt a moment of clarity. There was a way out. Maybe that was even for the best. He looked at Erica.
“Do you love me enough to trust me Erica?” he asked her.
“What do you think? Of course you idiot,” she replied. “I want out, would you come with me?”
“You want out?” Erica asked confused. “What do you mean out?” She stared him. “You want to go outside? We can go outside.” Isaac shook his head.
“We can’t get out of here Isaac, you know that.”
“If we get too far out of radius, these will kill us.” She tapped the bracelet. Then it dawned on her.
“That’s what you mean, right?” Tears started falling down the side of her face.
“No Isaac, this is not the way, we have to be strong together. You can’t do this to me Isaac, I waited too long for this. We’ve been through so much, we can get through this as well.”

Isaac just sighed and looked glum. “You don’t get it Erica. I don’t think we can get out of here.”
He looked her in the eye. “You don’t know how it feels to have a mate, I love you, you know that but if he leaves this place, I can’t see him and it will leave a gaping hole in my heart. I just can’t deal with this situation anymore…” Isaac was on the verge of breaking down into tears himself.
“I want to be free, I want to be able to decide for myself what I want to do, who to love. This seems like the ultimate act of freedom to me.” He whispered and grabbed her hand tightly.
“Don’t you want to be free? Don’t you want to get rid of this place? ” Erica knew how he felt, she had felt the same way in the first year that she  here. In this prison.
Isaac was resolute in his decision. “I’m going to do it, with or without you.” Tears now streamed down his face as well. “I want you to come with me,” his eyes pleaded. Erica now felt trapped, but a sudden rush of relieve as well as the thought of utter freedom dawned on her. Isaac’s decisive answer made up her mind for her. She could not stay here without Isaac. She loathed this place. Erica was tortured enough and the idea of pure and absolute freedom appealed to her.

Perhaps we can be together in some kind of afterlife? Her mind wondered.

“Let’s do it.”





Later that day, the sun had set. Erica and Isaac had performed their “last” show. Literally, though the Argents nor any of their pack would know that. Nobody would see this coming. Isaac and Erica always had seemed the most docile of all the werewolves. It even earned them their own, private room. They were lucky as well, not a lot of guards would be stationed near their room, except for the full moon which was in four days. Isaac and Erica were still determined to do what they had to do. They packed nothing, who would need stuff anyway? Isaac peeked outside.

“Guard shift will be soon Erica, are you ready?”

Ten minutes later, one of two guards left, to be replaced by another. This was the time frame they needed. Isaac stealthily approached the guard and twisted his neck without mercy. He felt horrible for taking a life but it was necessary, it was the last thing standing between them and an eternity of freedom. The coast seemed to be clear. He motioned for Erica to follow. The guard would be found soon by the returning one, who would sound the alarm. But it did not matter for the twosome, they were going to end it. Nothing really concerned them anymore. Before they knew it they were outside. The premises being empty, seeing that closing time was two hours ago. Scurrying along the booths, they quickly passed through one of the access gates. They both knew exactly how far they could go before meeting their ends. It made Isaac anxious. He could not wait to be free, free from this place. Erica seemed less certain but certain enough to continue. Isaac grabbed her hand reassuringly. They ran towards the limit and stood still right in front of it.

“Are you still sure?” Isaac asked. Erica nodded reassuringly.
Isaac pulled Erica close into him. “No matter what, I love you and always will Erica.”
A whiff of her scent floated past his nose. She smelled so good, like the days when they were younger and things were simpler; when plain things such as sitting on the bleachers watching the sunset was enough for them to be happy. To be them without anyone there to take their freedom and voices away. Though nothing ever stayed the same, did it? People were cruel and the cruelest of them all seemed to be forged into their lives. Taking whatever innocence they had. Leaving them tainted and irrevocably irreparable.
Tears were rolling down his cheeks.
“I’m sorry that there is no other way.” Erica gripped him tightly, her own tears falling on the ground.
She stood on the tips of her toes, giving Isaac their first, last and only kiss. The kiss was filled with despair, love and also hunger, the need to be together, in this final moment. They knew that if they set another step, their bracelets would detonate. Giving them a lethal shock, frying them from the inside out. “I just hope its quick and not so painful,” Erica said wistfully.
Isaac gave Erica a final kiss on the forehead and turned towards their end. He gripped her hand closely. They both were shaking, but their faces showed it all. They were ready. Isaac and Erica closed their eyes.
“I Love you.” There was a small pause. “I love you too.”
Then Erica and Isaac stepped forward, prepared to feel any pain and actually be free.

Oddly enough nothing happened. No pain. Isaac could still feel Erica’s hand intertwined with his. Eyes still closed he asked, “Are we dead?”
“Maybe this is the afterlife?” Erica responded.
Isaac carefully opened one of his eyes. “No..we’re still alive. How can this be?”
“Maybe we miscalculated? Though that hardly seems possible. The Argents made it very clear how far we could go before meeting our  ‘Excruciating’ deaths,” Erica mimicked Kate’s voice.

Someone scraped his throat.  “Actually, I guess that would be my doing.”
They turned around and there stood a young man Isaac knew. It was Derek’s mate.
“I guess my miniature EMP worked.” He smiled shyly.  “By the way, I saw the whole thing and I do not regret what I did. You guys are clearly not prisoners.” He eyed the bracelets.
“They are defective from now on, you never saw me here and you can’t tell anyone.”

Stiles looked around nervously.
“Thank you! Thank you!” Erica cooed. Stiles just put his index finger to his lips, making a shushing motion and he turned around and walked away.
Isaac looked at Erica, this was not the kind of freedom they had imagined, but this random stranger gave them the perfect freedom, a freedom where death was not the answer. His hand still gripping hers, he started dragging her shocked body.
“Come on, Erica! We are free!”
The sudden realization dawned on Erica, they truly were free. But another thought crept into her mind. “The guard, we killed that guard..They know we’re gone!”
Panic was building up in her chest. Isaac soothed her, “It’s going to be fine, we have a head start and as long as we are together, we can get through anything right?”
And off they went, rushing into the woods.

Free at last.

Chapter Text

Isaac and Erica felt blissful, all due to their sudden freedom. The thought of them being hunted was in the back of their mind, but it could not ruin the moment. They ran around in the forest, laughing, touching the trees. Occasionally they stopped to kiss each other, or they would run together holding hands. Not the easiest thing to do in a forest as thick as this. Erica her smiled pulled up onto her eyes. That is how happy she felt.
“This feels amazing Isaac,” she said hushed. Despite their laughter they kept their voices down. The hunters knew the lay of the land better than they did. It was most likely that they would not be going on foot, knowing the roads around the forest. Needless to say a few trackers would be following their scent with dogs. Scent, something that formed a problem. They saw a huge river a few miles away but in between there was no way to get rid of their scent. Then there was the other problem, Isaac and Erica never really developed their sense of smell as werewolves. They relied on hearing which is still good, but when enemies are close by scent is better, sniffing out the enemy so to say.

They had been running all night. The sun had come up at some point, it gave them some sense of time.  Isaac and Erica were sweating profusely. Not helping their case. The huge river seemed to be only a mile away from them. Swimming across would be deadly, but swimming a little bit off shore to lose their scent should be manageable if they put some werewolf strength into it.

“Isaac, have you heard anything like a helicopter or dogs yet?” Erica asked uneasy.
“No I haven’t.. that’s strange.” Isaac scouted the sky, which was hard to see due to the denseness of the forest. The pine trees were so high, that on certain places it blocked out the sunlight.
“Just a bit more Erica.”

Erica looked uneasy. The river’s currents were quite strong and frankly she was not sure if she still had enough energy. Isaac had promised her a chance to rest after they could get rid of their scent. Isaac slowed the pace of their run, when getting closer to the river.
“Let’s run to the left to divert them a little.”

Erica nodded, talking would cost energy that she might need. They ran another two miles in silence. “What now?” Erica asked eying Isaac. He looked bewildered.

Does she depend on me that much?

This made Isaac smile. She needed him.
“Now, we take off our shoes and socks and hide them all over the place.” Erica looked up at him.
“Are you kidding me? We need our shoes!”
Isaac returned the look. “What for? The forest floor is soft enough, any accidental rock may cut the sole of our foot but it will heal, won’t it? Besides, when we dive in there,” he pointed at the river “they will get wet and heavier, and in my case making me have the need to pee a lot more.”

That got a laugh out of Erica. She still thought it was a stupid idea but did it anyway.
“Now the hounds will go this way, while we go down ten miles into the river.”
Isaac tested the water, it was cold but the current was fast enough to make the ten miles pass by rapidly.
“Just a bit further Erica, then we can rest.” A hopeful gaze on his face. This renewed some vigor in Erica.

“Let’s do this.”
They did some stretches to be safe, it seemed like a silly idea to Erica. In retrospect, drowning due to the currents because you had leg cramps would be a shitty way to die. Especially after coming this far.

Isaac dove in first, Erica followed soon after. Isaac came up swearing, it was colder than he had expected, mostly due to the fact that it was summer time. Erica thought it was manageable until the first wave crashed in over her head, pushing her down. The actual cold, was felt while being submerged. She gritted her teeth and swam up to the surface.
“I don’t know how long I can hold this out,” Erica said.
“The faster we get going, the more distance we can get,” Isaac replied.
Their teeth chattering from the cold, but they were resolved into seeing this through. At first they struggled into finding their pace. But soon after their pace followed the motion of the currents. It made their kicks stronger, giving them more distance with each kick. It took them a solid hour in this cold water. They were lucky that it was summer and not winter, they would have probably died. Isaac climbed out and gave Erica a hand. Their teeth were still chattering, enduring the hypothermia as best as possible.  They had to do something to create body heat. Isaac started gathering burnable branches while Erica gathered leaves.

They had a dry summer, so everything could burn quite easily. For safety reasons they had build a stone circle, so they would not set the forest on fire, and themselves in it. The hard part was lighting the fire. “Can we even do this?” Erica asked, teeth still chattering.
“I learned it at boy scouts when I was younger,” Isaac replied. He left out the part that, that had been ten years ago. He used his claws to make an indenture in one branch, while sharpening the other. He placed the sharp one in the indenture of the other and started rubbing. For god knows how long, not a single spark came off. When it finally ignited, the fire was up fast. Isaac smiled mischievously.
“What?!” Erica quirked an eyebrow.
“Well, you know.. we get dry faster if we get naked.”
Erica eyed him and shrugged, “You have a point” and she started stripping her clothes off.
This took Isaac aback, he knew he suggested it, but in all honesty, he was quite shy and had not really seen a women naked. Sure he had seen women with skimpy clothes but they did not have porn magazines or anything at the circus. The Argents liked it that way, they would not want werewolves to be breeding now would they? Isaac shimmied out of his clothing as well, a blush spreading his cheeks. He was used to undressing in a room with Erica as they had to for the shows. But he never stripped down completely naked. His hands were clammy and he slowly sagged his boxers, trying to be oblivious to Erica’s obvious stares. He covered his genital with his hand when the boxer dropped and sat down to try and cover the rest.
“Now now Isaac, shy aren’t we?” Erica teased. She stood up and sat down next to Isaac.
“You know, when two people are adjacent to each other, they create body heat faster.”

Isaac gulped. Erica was so very close to him, and naked. He felt a small problem arising, well small, it would be small for only a little while longer if this continued. He did not know where to look. He felt tired from the escape yet here she was, the girl he loved, sitting next to him naked! Erica looked at him and came closer. A kiss ensued, one soft and tender and filled with love. Isaac broke off the kiss.
“Don’t you find this a little awkward at all? I mean, I do love you but we’re sitting here, naked and kissing. We’re butt naked in the woods, what if anyone sees us?”
Erica just laughed. “Don’t worry about it, we’re all alone in the woods here Isaac. Just you and me. Besides I’m not ashamed of myself, especially not in front of you.” She leaned in again, her hands clasping his shoulders, her lips touching his like a caress. Isaac started getting aroused from their kissing. He was the one who broke off the kiss again. He turned himself around, his tensed back facing Erica.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Why did you stop?”
She peeked around his shoulder and saw his hands were trying to cover something. Isaac’s heartbeat was racing. The thuds were clearly heard, like a galloping horse in the woods.

Thud thud, Thud thud, Thud thud.

Erica wrapped her hands around Isaac’s chest.
“Don’t be afraid,” she whispered into his ear.
“I can hear your heartbeat loud and clear, and I’m not embarrassed at what’s happening hidden beneath your hands.” Erica hugged him tightly. “I love you, you know.”
Isaac turned his head towards her, “I love you too.”
Another kiss ensued, not helping Isaac’s situation.
“Don’t be ashamed.”

Isaac had removed his hands and started caressing Erica. She was not disappointed at Isaac’s long member. She already knew he was well endowed, after all they had seen each other quite a few times in the dressing room. The fabric was not exactly hiding much.
Isaac stopped caressing Erica for a minute. She did not know why but Isaac had an inner struggle.
He remembered he still had someone he was bonded to, and did not quite know how this would pan out.

I love this girl, yet there HE is, skulking in the back of my mind. A beautiful young woman sits before me completely naked. Yet I can’t shake him from my mind.

What is he doing right now?
What is he feeling right now? 
Is it possible that he knows that I’m missing?

Isaac’s gaze was on Erica’s eyes. Those beautiful eyes. Everything about her is beautiful.
His heartbeat rose thinking of her, then he thought of his mate and Isaac’s heartbeat rose as well.
I thought I would be rid of these thoughts, when I got out of there with Erica. Yet here they are.
He was at a loss. Conflicting thoughts churning in his mind and heart. Isaac’s eyes were still focused on Erica.

Forget about him. All that matters is her. She is with you and not that idiot of a guy.
Why am I even feeling like this. I’m not gay, I like women.

Yet, a single question nagged him. ‘What do you feel for him?’

I don’t know!
All I know is, I’m not going to waste time on him anymore. He berated himself exasperated.

Isaac hungrily pulled Erica into a kiss. Desperately trying to drown his emotions for his Mate and drown his thoughts into a blissful happy buzz. A flush running down his back.

At first he had momentarily stopped caressing her, now he started again. Trying to touch every square inch of her skin. Erica returned his hungry kisses and touches. She had not told Isaac but she was more experienced than he was. She knew exactly what to do, what buttons to press on a man and what she liked most. She would guide him in exploring her entire body.

Isaac still felt unsure on how to proceed. Luckily Erica guided his hands to caress her breasts, her arms, belly and legs. He then traced kisses on all the places his hands went to.
A soft smile spread across his lips.

He is a goofball, Erica thought. She leaned in to kiss him, while gently pushing him towards the floor. Better to get him dirty instead of me.

Isaac lay down, with a face full of bliss. Ignorant to thoughts and other feelings. Only this moment mattered, only now. Erica was done waiting. She positioned herself and slowly slid down onto Isaac’s manhood. She looked at him for acknowledgement and saw only happiness on his face. She started making up and down movements, slowly and gently. She wanted to enjoy this moment for as long she could without rushing it.
Isaac just stared at her dreamily. His cheeks a soft shade of pink, his breathing becoming rather irregular.

My very first time is happening now. It’s better than I had ever imagined it. Especially because it is with someone who I love. She seems to be quite good at it.
Isaac keep it together..focus on her, not on your filthy thoughts.

He placed his hands on her hips, which she clearly did not mind.
Isaac looked at her carefully. She was currently the one making the motions but it did not feel right to him.

Slowly, he started thrusting his hips up. This got a few moans out of her and an appreciative look.
Erica liked leading but when a guy would take over, it made her that much more aroused.

He picked up the pace which made her moan more loudly.
Isaac thrust as long as he could, trying to get Erica to climax before he himself would. When he felt like he was going to come, he felt Erica tensing around him. Her entire body shuddering as she clutched onto him. Isaac let go soon after, filling Erica with his gooey cum. His toes curling from the orgasm.

“Best….Sex…Ever,” Isaac huffed between ragged breaths.
Erica was lying right next to Isaac.
“It was great Isaac,” her words full of love.
They lay together, clasping each other. No more words said, no more words to be used to describe what happened just now. Isaac did not know how long it lasted, but he did know he was feeling more warm and that it was amazing.

“Imagine doing this each and every day,” Isaac looked at Erica.
She shifted her eyebrows, “I do have other things to do besides being in bed with you.”


“Who says that it only has to be in bed?” Isaac laughed.
They were relishing the moment.
Forgetting the sounds surrounding them.
The twosome did not hear the gun being cocked, so close to them.
A warning shot was fired near them.
“Found you,” a honey voice shattered their perfect bubble.
Isaac and Erica cringed, eyes wide from shock, they knew that voice from anywhere.
Kate Argent, their worst nightmare.



“Miss Argent, we have a situation,” Kate’s second in command announced as he entered Kate’s office, taking his stance like the true soldier he was.
“If you mean the fact that all our systems seem to be shut down and are still not running, then yes we have a situation,” Kate hissed out irritably whilst she typed a message to her brother on her phone, to no avail.

“No ma’am, one of the guards was found dead in the hallways of the two level 3 betas,” the second in command informed. This seemed to catch Kate’s full attention as her eyes snapped up. Kate bolted out of her chair her eyes clouding with rage, “Have you captured them?” Kate approached the second, her entire demeanor giving off warning signs. Kate was not in a state one could simply handle with.

“No ma’am the trackers are not working accordingly nor does the neutralizer. We do not have them on sight.”

Kate shoved him aside as she thundered out of her office. Not bothering to ask questions when the situation appeared to be this dire. She walked hastily out of her home where her office was stationed at, she went straight to her motorbike. Riding towards the combat building. As the top of the building loomed in the darkness, Kate finally slowed down her speed. She pulled into an empty space beside the building and quickly entered, eyes scanning for her brother’s presence.   

“They have escaped the perimeter,” Chris announced the second his eyes fell on Kate.
“Get the dogs, hunt them down,” Kate commanded, her tone leaving no place for any further discussion.
“Kate, you need to calm down. We’ll wait until morning when the systems are back up and the trackers, then we’ll find them in a matter of a few hours tops.” Chris tried to reason.
Kate turned on her heel, leveling her brother with a patronizing glare, “Ever since we have been doing things your way everything seems to be crumbling down around us. Remember Jackson, the level 2 beta you tried to protect. Isaac and Erica are level 3 betas dammit! If anything, that ought to mean that we do not have to worry about them! Now they have escaped! They killed one of ours, again! If you stand in my way again, so help me god I will shoot you on sight,” Kate hissed staring her brother down.

“Still, it does not mean that the both of them have killed the guard, one of them is innocent and you know the code we go by. And you should know better than to threaten me,” Chris stepped closer, urgently needing to get through to his sister.
“Fuck the code!” Kate yelled turning on her heels and walked towards the wall packed with heavy artillery.
Chris followed her, “Kate.”
“Have you forgotten what happened to Victoria, Chris? Stop treating these killers like anything less than that. If anything, one of them has become a level 2 and if things proceed like this they might even team up and kill Derek, becoming a level 1. It’s time to put your priorities where they should be.”

“Where is that? Threatening my family?” Chris asked indignantly.
“Yes, if you cannot look further than the code when two of your men have been murdered then you are clearly not in your right state of mind. Your judgment is clouded.” Kate deadpanned in a low voice. Their arguing was interrupted by Kate’s second in command along with two rather large teams of guards, all dressed in camouflage military uniforms.

“Ma’am the tracking teams, Alpha and Bravo, are ready to go,” he informed in a firm and certain tone.
“Good. Get the dogs and off you go,” Kate dismissed them. As Kate focused back on the wall she noticed her brother was absent. Deciding that the hunt was a way more urgent matter she did not pay any further attention on his absence. Taking hold of a .50 caliber machine gun, Kate searched the drawers for the self-guided bullets, each round of its ammunition housed inside a specially designed casing; to protect its fins until after it were to leave the barrel of the gun. The laser-tracking optical sensor was located inside the bullet's nose. Using an eight-bit CPU the optical sensor would be able to communicate guidance information to the electromagnetic actuators that control the bullet's fins. Collectively, these components would allow the bullet to first detect and then actively seek out the werewolf that has been targeted with a laser from more than a mile away. Making it quite the perfect weapon for this hunt.

Using a folding load carrier for the machine gun, Kate walked towards the elevator at the very end of the building. She pressed the button leading to ground zero where their vehicles were parked. Loading the machine gun and the ammo into the back of her Range Rover Evoque, Kate revved the engine and drove out of the parking garage. She headed for the circus needing two other teams to head out onto the field being at her side, if needed. Once she had walked into the head office underneath the circus she gathered the teams Foxtrot and Golf. They were to accompany her on the hunt. Kate had specifically instructed both teams to find the targets then wait for Kate. In no way were they allowed to do the targets any harm. That pleasure was all Kate’s. It took all four teams the entire night to swift trough the forest strategically. Everything went accordingly and if they set their hunt through at this pace they would quickly close in on them from all directions. Leaving no trail for them to escape by. After all, the teams were armed and they had the advantage of knowing these woods by heart. The teams set the hunt forth, never once stopping to get some rest. As the sun rose it made the hunt somewhat easier. Unfortunately, Isaac and Erica had been clever enough and had not made a fire during the night. The dogs had been on their track up until they neared the river, finding clothing items on various trails. Kate was getting frustrated by the fact that they seemed to be so close on their trail, yet so far away. Until team Bravo announced sightings of a fire. Kate pulled up the Evoque along the road nearest to team Bravo. Meanwhile Alpha, Foxtrot and Golf had approached Bravo in the time it had taken Kate to drive there. Foxtrot helping Kate to set up the machinery a mile away from their targets. From there it went rather quickly. Bravo fired a single shot, targeting a tree near the duo while Kate approached them.

“Found you,” a sinister smile tugged at Kate’s lips.
“Did I interrupt something?” Kate snorted, trying to prevent herself from laughing at the look of utter shock on their faces. Though before she had entirely closed in on them, Erica stood up trying to pull Isaac with her in vain as she ran away. Isaac’s head snapped around gazing after her with teary eyes, his entire body shaking, his breathing unsteady.

A single shot thundered through the air and hit its target. Erica fell down with an agonized cry. Isaac jumped up claws extending as he ran after her.

“Erica!” He half howled, half sobbed. Another shot barreled through the silent forest and Isaac fell down with a blood curling scream. An explosion of scarlet tainted the forest floor, as Isaac despite his wound crawled with great effort towards the almost unmoving Erica.
“Tsk tsk, should have known better than that really,” Kate scolded peevishly. Nearing the two, Kate nodded for her men to stand down. Kate hunched down beside Erica, caressing her hair out of her face as the younger was choking on her own blood, shot right beneath her heart.
“Isaac,” she whispered on a ragged breath, tears streaming profusely down her cheeks. Her body making spasmodically moves while she tried to breathe.
“I’m here,” Isaac sobbed while he tightened his grip on her hand. Kate gazed down his body, eyes scanning for his wound and noticed the bullet had punctured through his right leg, just above his kneecap.

“You see, I would say that I had no intention for either of you getting hurt but then I would be lying,” Kate started as she pulled out a dagger from inside her booth. With it she stabbed Isaac above the pelvis. The younger beta screamed in agony, eyes flashing an electric blue. In all honesty Kate had never expected Isaac to be the one to kill a guard. She was used to see him cower and flinch at any physical interaction. Although the latter seemed to be long forgotten since he had been more than willingly physically interacting with Erica. Perhaps he had some backbone after all.
“Through the years I have come to the knowledge that I have a knack for torturing monsters like yourselves. After all, us hunters kill when necessary in order to protect others from the likes of you, but you; you are like rabid dogs. It starts with one kill, during a hunt at full moon perhaps, though it will always escalate. It will become the only thing you can ever think of, your wolf nagging at you until you cave and give in to it. I for one never will forget the fact that you are born hunters, it is your nature and who are you to think you can defeat nature. Thinking you can control your most basic instincts, as a hunter I would have to be very arrogant and selfish to think that your kind is so special to control everything it stands for,” Kate explained pleasantly.

Isaac silently cried from pain while Erica’s whimpers became less and less audible.
“Shhht, it is almost over,” Kate shushed her and grabbed Isaac at his throat, lifting him up slightly. Enough for him to see Erica withering away.
“I want you to remember this moment, the way the blood trickles down her lips, her body convulsing as she tries to breathe in vain. How her blood is leaving her body, leaving a hot trail along a cooling body. Remember that this is your fault, this is your doing. You both had more than the others ever did, you were happy. Yet you chose for this, knowing there would be consequences,” Kate spoke savouring each and every moment. Isaac trashed in her grip trying everything to get away from her, to no avail.
“Get away from her!” He screamed, renewed tears trailing down his cheeks.
“Erica!” He squeezed the hand he was holding onto for dear life.
“Please! Please don’t,” he begged his voice coming out rather hoarse and shaky.
Kate let go of him, taking a step back from the two and watching the scene in front of her. A pleased glint sparking in her eyes at her victory.

Erica took one last ragged breath, with closed eyes she chokingly whispered, “I- Isaac.. I love.. you.. don’t..  forget.. about me.. ” Her body stopped moving, the final tears dripping down her horrifyingly pale cheeks.
No!” Isaac screamed shaking her, his hands caressing her cheeks wiping her tears away. His other still clutching to her hand, squeezing it for any reaction.
Erica! Don’t!” He wretched brokenly.
“Don’t leave me, please! Please!” He tried healing her even though her heart was not beating any longer. Even though he had heard her take her last breath. Choke out her last words. Had wiped away her last tears.
I love you! Erica, I love you so much! You mean everything to me. Please don’t leave me here, please open your eyes, please!” He begged as his hand pressed on her wound, his hand covered in her blood. He swiped across her wound trying to force the blood back in, to undo it. As if any of it would help.
How could I ever forget about you!
He let his head fall back and let out a heartbreaking howl, his forehead then came to rest on her shoulder as he sobbed, tears overflowing down his features. Clenching his eyes shut as he wept in great grief.    

Kate nodded for the guards to drag him away to the car. Isaac trashed as he clutched onto her body with dear might, screaming from them to back off. Unable to let go of her.
No! Don’t! Don’t you fucking dare touching her!” He growled miserably.
Don't fucking touch her!

It took three of the Alpha team to take the trashing beta towards the car. Kate dismissed all other teams except for the remaining Alpha team. She instructed them to carry the body elsewhere and rid themselves of it, leaving no trail behind. And when they were done with that, they were instructed to erase any evidence of today’s happenings. 








There is nothing else to life nowadays except for that word. The pure and raw meaning behind it. Real survival, just you versus your opponent. I have come to know its face in the shape and disguise of many. It started with love. Tender yet intoxicating at first. I became an addict to it, feeling like without it I could not survive. Going up and beyond everything, ignoring my instincts and sense of logic. But all that greatness became my biggest weakness. Slowly I was drowning and suffocating in that same sense of intoxication, drowning myself in the sense of security and belonging it gave me. It felt pure and passionate to its core. And with that same grace it left its path of destruction. A destruction I came to know as fire. Another opponent. I watched how that destruction had grown out of the most powerful emotion known to mankind. As the walls and ceilings inside my childhood house crumbled, forever tainted and scorched by the outrageous fire, I closed my eyes from the sight. I turned my back on the rain of ashes darkening everything in my surroundings. Blocking out any chance of light. It felt like even the mansion was weeping, tainted black tears slowly and beautifully swaying down in sorrow.
I sat there, inside the ambulance, a blanket thrown gently over my shoulder as I breathed through the mask of oxygen. My uncle Peter talking with the paramedics and the sheriff. Trying to explain something only I knew the truth of. If it were not for Peter I had not survived that night. After that night nothing mattered. Being smuggled into another country did not matter. Being deprived, disgraced, put to humiliatingly shame while being treated and showed off as animals, none of it mattered. Life did not matter. It was overrated. The ones that did matter to me were taken so carelessly, it left me behind a ghost of my former self. An empty shell for all the world to see. Though they would forever be with me, if only in my dreams. A survivor was what they called me, the performers at the circus. I’m not a survivor. I never made it out, Peter got us out. I did not survive the power of love, it killed me from the inside out.
How were I the one to teach my pack to survive? How was I supposed to show them kindness and love when they needed it, while there was nothing left to give.

Derek along with every single werewolf on the perimeter heard the heart shattering howl. It belonged to Isaac’s wolf and it was one of great grief. A howl that pierced through the sky at the loss of a packmember.           
The entire pack howled brokenly in unison at the sense of loss. All direly needing comfort and wanting nothing else than seeking each other, and being close to one another as they once again faced a grand loss. Another life brutally taken. As if it did not matter, it was not loved and cherished; forever in their hearts. Never to be forgotten.

Chapter Text

Scott was laying in his bed, staring absently up at the night sky, trying to block out the chaotic jumble of emotions that was surging within him. The haphazardly change of them becoming relentless as time went by, causing for Scott to have a migraine on top of all else. The most powerful and distinct of them all was the constant sensation of pain. Scott could distinguish the pain he was feeling was not his nor was it anything mentally. It felt physical yet Scott was not injured. As a matter of fact he had not left his room in the span of two days. Since the power outage there was not much left to do either, at least nothing Scott felt up to. He had no means of communication, due to all the electronics not working at the moment, frustratingly that meant basically everything electrical.
Scott was gradually starting to miss his mom and his little pup, as much as he loved his friends and being away with them he was starting to get homesick. Missing to check up on his patients at the clinic. It made him feel slightly off, because at the end of the day he cared a lot about those little rascals.
Regardless, they were all here for Stiles, his best friend who needed this trip in order to get away from everything he had had to deal with.

Scott had asked Stiles about the result of his little investigation and perhaps he should not have asked questions to which he truthfully did not want the answers to. The knowledge Stiles had acquired led to a truth none of them was ready to face. Because why would there be a combat building, offering the opportunity to not only train themselves physically but learning the ways of handling artillery, and undoubtedly many more versatile training programs; the entire concept behind it equivalent to that of a military base. What was the reason behind the need for the many guardsmen and the purpose for the overall heavy security. Were the Argents somehow part of a criminal gang of sorts? Scott and his friends all knew by now that the Argents were part of  Paris’ elite. Their ownership of this entire land and circus proved as much. Although one question remained, how had they become so wealthy and powerful among businessmen and diplomatic circles in two countries on different continents? It was something Scott would never dare to ask Allison about or any of the Argents for that matter.
All of Stiles’ discoveries were leading to more suspicion.  

Thereafter, Stiles would enter their bedroom late at night and just get ready for bed, without ever questioning Scott about his whereabouts or the lack thereof. Nonetheless, Scott did easily notice his best friend appearing slightly overwrought. There seemed to be a heavy weight he carried around on his shoulders, leaving Stiles anxious for whatever reason. His best friend would throw a bright neon-coloured tennis ball at the wall, while deeply lost in thoughts. Sometimes a thought would frustrate him to the point of agitation, causing the force behind his throws increasing notably. The harsh thud echoing through the ever silent space.

Despite their closeness to one another neither felt the need to share what was going on. Tension seemed to be building between them, thinning the air within the small quarters they resided in. Making both boys frantic, yet desiring to be left alone. So to sort their thoughts and emotions out. Trying making sense of a greater picture, one comparable to Claude Monet’s ‘La Gare St. Lazare,’ everything is there yet the details are missing, it is just an impression. Leaving it up to the viewer to interpret the image that is portrayed. Raising rather more questions than answering any. Unfurling ones imagination, daring to be curious, to wonder, to challenge oneself and adventure.

Danny and Lydia had met a worker at the circus, with whom they could get along quite well. It was not Derek nor Isaac but apparently someone else. Therefore Stiles and Scott’s uncharacteristic behaviour went unnoticed to them. 

For a while Scott had started to feel more and more like himself, as the sun had risen, a sense of pure serenity had settled over him. The chaos within him seemingly settling down. Although he should have known better. It was the calm before the storm, one that ravaged mercilessly. Because just few hours later an explosion of raw angst, heartache and sorrow raged through him with such intensity, that it made it impossible to ignore. Leaving behind a great ache in its wake, one that did not even come close to compare with the migraines he had been having. Meanwhile, Scott had come to the realization that these flood of emotions which lately coursed through him had irrefutably something to do with Isaac. Scott was certain that there was an undeniable connection between them. He would be a fool to put it off on something else, any longer. Not long after the wave of emotions had hit him, did they hear several disheartening howls pierce through the sky, it’s power reverberating off the walls and ceilings; causing both boys tremble with fear.

“Were those the howling of wolves?” Stiles stuttered while untangling himself from underneath his covers shakily. His eyes blown wide with angst, a low chuckle escaping his lips, bordering on hysteria.
“Yes.” Scott replied in an unsteady voice. His eyes were tearing up because there was so much pain and grief! He could not place it nor explain it but he knew something really, really bad had just happened to Isaac. Something terrible. Facing his best friend he could read his face clear as day, whatever they had been blissfully ignoring up until now could no longer be ignored. Both men dashed out of their room, sprinting down the stairs and rushing out of the house. Their hearts thrumming rapidly. Fearing the unknown.
The first thing they noticed were guards, a lot of them running in tactical teams towards the circus it appeared. Had people been attacked by animals? Were there wolves attacking the residents? Had Isaac been attacked by one? All of these questions replayed themselves through Scott’s mind endlessly. As he was about to run towards the guards, asking them about what was going on, Stiles jerked him back at his arm. Shaking his head vigorously and putting his index fingers in front of his lips, warning Scott to keep quiet.

“This way,” Stiles whispered, pulling him with clammy hands towards the edge of the forest. Out of sight. Scott followed his friend closely, while they made their way to the circus keeping a low profile all the while. Keeping their bodies hunched. It took them longer than necessary to get to the circus but at least no one had spotted them, yet.

Nearing the circus they heard guards ordering commands frantically.
“Scott, I need to get in,” Stiles whispered unsteadily, swallowing thickly.
“What! Why?” Scott was starting to panic. Because watching what was going on was a heck of a lot different from actually trying to get into whatever the mess that was going.
“Scott, I have to! It’s.. there’s just something horribly wrong about all of this and I need to get in there. I need to check something out, okay?” Stiles’ voice was getting more and more desperate, his eyes pleading with Scott’s.
Scott nodded, understanding his friend more than his features showed. He himself felt a spike of fear run through him at the thought of what might be going on, whether it was possible that something had happened to Isaac. Because for some unfathomable reason Scott had this fascination about this boy, to whom he felt such a remarkable connection to. Without even knowing close to anything about him. Which just spiked Scott’s curiosity all the more. What if Stiles was going through the same experiences as he was?    
“Go! I’ll keep watch and if anyone comes I’ll try to distract them with whatever,” Scott reassured his friend the best he could. Despite his words and good intentions, his entire body was shaking and he felt jumpy, anything could set him off at this moment.
Stiles gave his shoulder a squeeze, thanking him with just the look of gratitude in his eyes; saying all that he could not word at the moment. That in itself ought to say very much about the situation they were in, because Stiles was never one to be unable to word his thoughts or feelings. Scott sat back and scanned his surroundings once more as his friend hunched and quickly made his way towards an fire exist.  








Stiles had almost tripped, running up the stairs of the small fire exit. Climbing the stairs, while crouching was one of the most annoying things he had ever done, it even topped shopping with Lydia. When he entered the compound, it seemed kind of empty. Which was not odd, given the fact that a lot of the guards were seen outside patrolling. Nonetheless Stiles would be on his guard. He was standing in a round hallway loitered with crates. His curiosity wanted him to peek inside but he didn’t have time for that. He wanted answers and he only knew one person who might tell him, Derek.

A good solid five minutes of sneaking later, Stiles visibly relaxed. He hadn’t seen any guards or heard any of them. Though not a second after a guardsman ran past him. Stiles did the most idiotic thing he could think of. He turned around facing the wall, pressing his body, face and everything. His mind thinking the most simple thing ever, Don’t see me, don’t see me. Please don’t see me.

Luckily for Stiles, the guard was too focused on his task to even notice Stiles squirming against the wall.
He took a few deep breaths, calming himself and his nerves. The anxiety was getting to him and he needed to be calm and precise. Getting caught would mean a lot of problems he didn’t need.
Stiles continued his path, he didn’t know exactly where to go, but he knew who to see.

A cafeteria was looming ahead of him. He could clearly see Danny and Lydia sitting with an unfamiliar figure. They were hunched over, talking hushed. Stiles noted that they didn’t seem afraid, they seemed somewhat relaxed, in the presence of their new friend. One thing was clear, they were on lockdown inside the circus. Lydia spotted him and she frowned.
‘What are you doing?’ she mouthed. Stiles just shook his head and lifted his finger to his lips, making a shushing motion.
‘Later,’ he mouthed back.

Guardsmen were encroaching this area, protecting it or well, most likely protecting Lydia and Danny on the orders of Allison or Kate. He moved away from the area. Stiles turned a corner and was grabbed by the collar and jerked into a small room. It smelled dank and for what he could see, seemed to be a utility closet. A bunch of brooms, mops and buckets were in the corners.
“I didn’t do anything!” Stiles yelped. “I’m just looking for my friends Danny and Lydia who were here.”

“Sure you were,” a deep male voice  replied. Stiles didn’t recognize the voice. Trying to release himself, he gripped the hand holding him in his place. It felt burly, hairy and manly.
“Well, could you at least let me go? I won’t try to run,” he promised, with his fingers crossed. The male let him go, without a word.
Should I run, or should I see who it is? Or maybe both if that’s possible. His curiosity got the better of him this time and he turned around. A man in his late thirties early forties was standing there. Brown hair, and a brown beard and mustache. Though the beard was more like a goatee.

“Who are you?” Stiles was confused, there was something familiar about this man yet he didn’t know him.
“It doesn’t concern you who I am, I know who you are, Stiles,” he let out a soft chuckle.
“You’re the mate my nephew is bonded to.” Stiles had to process this. The man knew who he was. He didn’t know what a mate was, but he did know he had a weird connection to Derek.
“Wait, hold up. I am bonded to Derek? That’s what this is? I’m his mate?! Does that mean he wants to get jiggy with me?” Stiles blurted out sentence after sentence, his ADD kicking in.
“Nephew…that means you’re his nephew too! No wait you’re too old, you must be his uncle. You can’t be his aunt, unless you have lady parts?” He was eyeing Peter a little too weirdly. Peter just responded with a sarcastically raised eyebrow.
“My my, you can’t shut up can you.”
“You’re here looking for Derek, but you won’t be able to reach him. He’s on lockdown. The Argents have him a holding cell, guarded by plenty. So don’t even think you can reach him.”
Stiles was boggled. “You must have a crystal ball or mindreading skills to know all of this.”
Peter grinned, “it’s my job to know .“
“Derek’s rather unapproachable right now. One of his pack members got murdered by the Argents.”

Stiles looked like he just told him the world worked on Pink Narwhals. It made no sense, at all.
“Come again?” He asked the male.

 Peter looked at him through half-lidded eyes with wonder.
“You don’t know do you?” He was laughing out loud.
“Well, let’s do a quick intro. I think your babbling mind can keep up.”
“I am Peter Hale, one of two Alpha werewolves. I am Derek’s uncle and most of the performers here are a part of Derek’s pack.” To prove his point, Peter flashed his eyes with a crimson glow. Startling Stiles. His jaw dropping and unable to get back up.

“Close your mouth before you catch flies.”  

Peter waited patiently for Stiles to close his mouth.
“Wah-wuh-what was that?” Stiles stammered after a good three minutes. His mind unable to process it. Sweat was profusely wetting his armpits. I wish I had some deodorant, or better a shower. BUT NOT WITH THIS MAN PRESENT, his mind quickly interjected, though..Derek wouldn’t be half bad.  Stiles snapped out of his dream state and focused on Peter again. Information upon information was thrown at him, all he could do was accept it for now, process it later.

“As I said, I’m a werewolf, an Alpha to be exact, a leader,” Peter calmly replied.
“You’re Derek’s mate, that’s why you’re bonded and that’s how you should be able to feel his emotions.”
Peter paused, “I had hoped at least someone would’ve figured it out, seeing Scott, your friend is also bonded to another.”
Stiles his mind was slowly wrapping around the idea of what was going on.
“Scott is also a mate? To Derek?”
Peter shook his head. “He’s bonded to Isaac, whom you also met.”
“Really, hmm, explains his mood,” Stiles pondered.
Hello, Stiles, why are you believing and trusting everything he says? His mind woke him up.
“Wait, hold up, why are you telling me now?”
This got a small smile from Peter.

“Good you’re catching on. The reason why I’m telling you now is because it will be a full moon in two days, which is when we’re going to have to make our move to get out. I know that the bracelets aren’t working, but the Argents don’t,” Peter almost whispered. His ears were constantly looking for any sign of a guard close by or listening in.

“Derek has built concrete walls around him mentally, with beyond them other ones of steel, he never lets anyone in, or talks to anyone apart from his pack maybe; that is if it is absolutely necessary. But I have my own role to play then. You know how he feels and he knows how you feel, use that to your advantage to help them all escape.” An unfathomable look crossing Peter’s features. 
“The Argents think I’m on their side, that I can be somewhat trusted. I have to maintain that role.”
Stiles interrupted. “If you say that they trust you, but you’re betraying them, how do I know I can trust you?”
Peter smirked unabashedly, “You just have to.”

“We will discuss the actual plan tomorrow, for now, go back to your friends. This conversation never happened.”
Peter left the small space without saying anything else. Leaving Stiles to his own devices.
He had a lot to process, things he couldn’t tell anyone yet. Not even Scott.
Stiles knew Scott was the same as him, but he simply could not face it himself. He had never imagined to be destined for another man, especially that Scott would be as well. It gave him something to think about, but not yet. There were things to do first, he’d have a talk later with Scott, Lydia and Danny. His trusting group of friends. Stiles found an exit quickly and returned to Scott, who was still awaiting him.









Hours had passed as Scott sat on the forest floor hidden behind thickly packed bushes, keeping watch. Things had seemed to calm down, the minority of guards in sight telling Scott that much. He had not seen anything from Stiles yet, but that ought to be a good sign, right? It meant he was not caught and all hell had not broken loose.

 After another passing hour Scott decided to go see things for himself and started walking to the fire exit Stiles had gone through. His heartbeat yet again accelerating as he frantically scrutinized his surroundings. Patting his sweaty palms on his jeans, he reached for the door. Opening the door, he was about to walk in, when all of a sudden he crashed into someone. His heart skipped a beat, a yelp escaping his throat as he tripled backwards. Hands belatedly snatching out to grab onto the doorframe. His breath caught in his throat, his pulse was becoming alarmingly high. Scott could not breathe, cold sweat trickling down the nape of his neck as he gasped for air, wheezing. In dire need of his puffer.
“Scotty, hey! It’s me, dude are you oke?” Stiles’ face appeared in front of him, worry written all over his face.
“It’s me, Scott you need to breathe, slow steady breaths okay big guy,” Stiles put a gentle hand on his shoulder, tracing small circling movements with his thumb over his shirt. The warmth of it seeping through the fabric, grounding Scott somewhat. Stiles’ other hand forced Scott to look up at him.
“What happened.. Did you find anything?” Scott asked through ragged breaths.
“No, there were too many guards,” Stiles said grimly, getting back up on his feet.
“Come on, we need to get back and get you your inhaler,” he held out a hand to him, helping his friend up and putting Scott’s arm over his shoulder. Carrying half of his weight.
Scott nodded his head, his vision was turning black. The muscles of his neck and chest tightening.
“Scott?” Stiles’ voice took on an anxious note.
“Scott, breathe! Just..” Stiles was hurrying them as quickly as possible back towards the bungalow.
When Scott’s breathing became more labored and his wheezing became louder Stiles sat him down, allowing Scott to lean back against a tree.
“I’m going to get your inhaler, okay. I need you to hang in there, just take slow, deep breaths,” Stiles advised in a gentle and calming tone. Eyes searching Scott’s for confirmation. At Scott’s inclination of his head in acknowledgment Stiles gave a curt nod before he ran off.




Scott sat there, looking through half-lidded eyes, when he noticed a car driving up the land. Scott could vaguely distinguish the figure behind the wheel. It seemed to be a female resembling Kate Argent with someone else seated in the back of her ride. Squinting his eyes Scott noticed the figure in the back turning its posture towards him. As if it was looking directly at Scott. Scott swallowed heavily, having trouble to stay conscious much longer. The Evoque appeared to be heading towards the combat building. If that was not enough to raise alarm bells then Scott did not know what was.
Luckily before Scott had fully lost his consciousness he heard rustling beside him and as he looked up, he saw Stiles quickly approaching.
“Got it!” He hastily handed the puffer to Scott.
“Thanks man,” Scott smiled softly at his friend, his physic gradually relaxing.
“No, problem dude,” Stiles returned the smile and patted him on the knee, then looked over his shoulder.
“Seems vacant.”
“Yea.. for quite a while now,” Scott gazed after the trail the car had disappeared to.
“Well, I had to hide in there the whole time. Guards were searching through the entire place.”
“You got lucky, what if they had found you?” Scott demanded, voice becoming stern.
“I would have told them I was looking for Danny or Lyds,” He shrugged noncommittally.
Scott frowned, “Dude! Then why the hell was I on watch?”
“Because, Scott, that was my plan B. Which I didn’t need so that’s why,” Stiles huffed shaking his head.
“What was your plan A exactly? You were there looking for Derek,” Scott stated accusingly.
“No! If you have forgotten, Danny and Lydia are actually still in there somewhere..”
“Stiles you’re lying,” Scott observed, feeling quite hurt that his best friend would lie to him in his face.
Stiles dropped his head in his hands, scratching the back of it, letting out a deep sigh.
“I just need you to trust me Scott, I cannot explain everything.. just yet.”
 “Then don’t but don’t lie to me either. Because if you haven’t noticed, that’s becoming a reoccurring theme around here,” Scott got up on his feet and started walking away.
He was not going to fight his friend over whatever this was but he could not help but feel fed up about the entire situation.  
Besides he had some things of his own to worry about.
“I’m not lying. I just can’t tell you everything that goes on Scott, it doesn’t concern you anyways, so I really would appreciate it if you’d drop it.”
Scott stopped in his tracks turning to face his friend, “Stiles, what the fuck!” Scott exclaimed affronted.
“Don’t pretend this isn’t about that Derek creep. Which by the way.. you’re not gay so what the fuck is your problem. I’m your best friend bro!”
“Like the fuck you are?” Stiles remarked spitefully.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Scott’s frown deepened, confusion clouding his eyes.
“Oh come ooon dude,” Stiles threw his hands up in the air wound up, “as if no one has noticed how you’ve been cooped in our room ever since Isaac visited you. Instead of making googly eyes at Allison.”
“How does that make me gay?” Scott looked utterly lost.
“I don’t know! But when you’re more worried and on edge because of a guy instead of chasing after the girl you were crushing on, it means frikkin something, okay?!” Stiles retorted while raging his hands through his hair madly.  
“If you think dodging my question and throwing it back at me would distract me of what actually is going on then it’s not working, Stiles,” Scott confessed somberly, displease painting his features.
“Yeah, well you know what Scotty.. I don’t care. I’m sick of hand-holding you through everything. This conversation is over, for all I care,” Stiles shrugged impassively then turned away, walking back the way he had come.

Scott gazed after his friend dejectedly. Feeling migraine take over his mind. He felt miserable, both physically and emotionally. Hand tightly clenched around his puffer he shoved it into his pocket and started towards the way the Evoque had driven off to. No matter how utterly shitty he felt, he could not shake off the image of the figure in the car’s backseat. Especially not after it had looked straight at him. How was that even possible? Scott was close to a mile away, so it did not make sense in the slightest bit. Neither did anything else Scott was experiencing lately, so for the moment Scott was going to go with his gut. Telling him to check out what the hell was going on for himself and whether Isaac maybe was one of the guards or becoming one?





Earlier that day, Lydia and Danny left the house.
“Those two have been sitting there moping all day, I can’t stand it!” Lydia snarled.
Her face combed over and she looked at Danny gently, “Thanks for coming, fun company is always appreciated.” A genuine smile spreading on her face.
“It’s my pleasure,” Danny said.
Danny remembered their high school days, where they didn’t hate each other, but weren’t this close either. They actually started becoming close because of Stiles. The company had made them become partners. But they became friends out of necessity. Stiles and Scott were two really close friends. Lydia nor he would be able to come between them. Another reason being that Stiles and Scott could be really weird sometimes. Lydia luckily, was a normal, smart girl who also liked similar things as him. So they became really close, really fast. The four of them together made for them being in balance. Stiles and Scott being the Yin of the group, while Lydia and Danny were the Yang. It’s how it all worked.
This sent Danny down memory lane.
“Hey Lyds, do you remember much about from me high school?”
Lydia was somewhat surprised to get a question like this thrown at her out of the blue.
“I didn’t really know you back then, so there isn’t much to say,” Lydia replied.
“Well, I remember you were on the Lacrosse team with Stiles and Scott, who sucked by the way. You used to hang around a lot with Jackson. He was a cutie. I think I hooked up with him a few times.”
Danny had totally forgotten about Jackson.

“What happened to Jackson anyway?” Lydia asked Danny.
He knew the answer, sort off. “Well, I know that he left his parents house to go on a trip. He didn’t really tell me where he went. Sadly,” he added bit woefully.

They were talking so intensely that they hadn’t noticed they had entered Circus grounds. Danny and Lydia stopped to look at their surroundings. The place seemed mostly empty, aside from the people working there.
“You’d figure there would be more people,” Lydia said with a drawl.
“Luckily there’s a piece of eye candy to behold, apart from the fact that he looks so dreary.”

Danny followed Lydia’s vision towards a guy with dark blond or brownish hair.
He checked him out and was slightly impressed. “He seems fit.”
Lydia licked her lips and clicked her tongue, “You can say that again.”
The guy was shoegazing, but looked up when Lydia clicked her tongue.
A sign of recognition appeared on his face and he was walking towards them quite happily.
“Lydia, he’s coming over here, do you know him?” Danny asked, eyeing her somewhat nervously.
“Nope, but we’ll find out soon enough.”

The guy immediately came in for a hug, aiming for Danny.
Wow, Danny! What are you doing here?!” He asked eagerly.
Danny looked towards Lydia and shrugged awkwardly. Lydia was looking at him, W-T-F she mouthed.
“Uh hey,” Danny replied. “Ehm, who are you?”
He looked hurt, “You don’t know? It’s me Jackson!”
Lydia looked at him weird, “Really?....”
A sudden recognition hit Danny, “Wow it’s really you! What are you doing here?”
“That, is a long story,” Jackson replied. “Who is the pretty lady with you? I thought you liked boys.”
Danny smiled, “I still do, this is Lydia.”
Jackson looked up and down, “Ow, I think I remember you.”
Lydia looked a bit put off.  “Well, I sort off remember you too,” she shrugged indignant, feigning indifference.
“We were just talking about you actually, what a coincidence,” Danny interjected.

They were standing awkwardly on the open grounds.
“Ehm, why don’t you guys come back with me to the Circus cafeteria and tell me how you ended up here,” Jackson said. Danny nodded and looked expectantly at Lydia, an eyebrow raised in question. She was clearly put off by Jackson not remembering her but eventually conceded, nodding her head resolutely.
While walking towards the Circus, Danny told the story while Lydia was still fuming.
“Well, do you remember Stiles and Scott? Stiles turns out to be an awesome inventor, now the three of us alongside Stiles run one of the largest companies. But lately he was feeling down so we decided to go on a trip. We left for Paris and then eventually here, it was a surprise from Lydia.”
Lydia tuned in at the mention of her name.
“I’ve known Allison for some time on a business level, they’re quite possibly investing some money in our company.. but those are technicalities for later.”

They entered the cafeteria and sat down talking. But a minute after Jackson sat down, a guard came up to them. Telling them they were on lockdown. Jackson seemed like he was used to it so he shrugged and sat back down.
“They told me there is a lockdown, so you guys have to stay here with me for a while until its clear to go.”
Lydia objected, “Nobody is going to tell me what to do, what about Stiles or Scott?”
Danny intervened, “Calm down Lydia, they will be taken care off. Maybe there is a serious emergency, let’s just stay put for a while. We were going to anyway.”

Lydia sagged back into her chair. Jackson and Danny were engrossed in their conversation about how Jackson ended up here. She tuned them out. Danny was sure that she, subconsciously heard how Jackson went on a road trip, ended up in France with a broken cellphone and nearly no cash. Then he had met Kate Argent who offered him a job at the circus. Jackson’s demeanor seemed to darken then, his face hardened, though it softened later while listening to Danny.

Danny noticed Lydia gazing at her nails, which seemed to be more interesting when she saw someone in the corner in front of her. She seemed on the verge of getting up and yelling something.  The guy appeared to be acting suspicious, so instead of actually yelling, she waited for eye contact. When they made eye contact, she mouthed “What are you doing?”
Gazing over at the silhouette, Danny noticed Stiles standing. Stiles had made a shushing motion and responded with a mouthed “later”. Lydia was engulfed by what had just occurred. For better or worse, she was smart enough to keep her mouth closed, for now. Danny was sure of when she would have the chance, she was going to grill Stiles for every single detail. For now, she was stuck with two best buddies until they got the okay to leave again. Danny cast his eyes and attention back to Jackson smiling while nodding his head.
“Great….” Lydia muttered agitatedly.









Scott walked the way Stiles had done hours before. Walking along the edge of the forest instead of across the land and heading straight for the building. Like he had done the night he had followed Allison. In retrospect that had been very stupid and careless of him to do. Although couple of days ago he did not know better, who the hell would? This was supposed to be a frikkin carefree trip to a circus for Finstock’s sake.   

By the time Scott had reached the building it was starting to get dark and frankly Scott was becoming exhausted. It had been a stressful day to say the least and he had not closed an eye last night either, so it was starting to take its toll on him.

Stiles was wrong though, Scott’s crush on Allison was still ever present. He just felt curious about the connection to Isaac, that was all. Who would not want to get to the bottom of things when something out of the ordinary happened to them, at the presence of a total stranger. It was completely harmless and not a big deal at all. Maybe it was something French, yea, that could totally be it though and if not probably something European.  

As Scott neared the back of the building, he overheard a little bit of a conversation close by that was going on.
Stopping dead in his tracks he hunched in on himself and hid behind the closest wall, as he focused on the conversation.
“You’ve heard the terms and agreements. Consider yourself greatly warned, because next time I won’t be able to keep her off your back and I wouldn’t even want to,” a voice very similar to that of Chris Argent reprimanded.
“Yes, sir,” a brokenly hoarse voice replied back.
“Go, before we change our minds,” The other commanded.
At the sound of a closing door Scott hurried towards the front of the building where the two men had been conversing. Before he had turned around the corner he was crashing face first into someone’s waist.

Shit! Scott’s pulse became frenzied as he looked up mortified. His eyes were met with a set of glaring electric crystal blue ones. Scott fell back on his buttocks, holding a hand up in front of him defensively.
At a loss for words. What was he supposed to do, beg for his life? Apologize for intruding a cryptic yet unsettling conversation?  
Looking closer at the figure before him, he became suddenly very aware of the flood of emotions becoming ten times more intense than previous. Blinking several times he was finally able to look beyond the glowing eyes, to the characteristics, only to realize that it was Isaac. His face contorted in pain and sorrow. The man standing before him looked years older than the last time Scott had seen him. He looked haggard, worn out, hollow glaucous eyes met Scott’s. Instead of the once brilliant, defiant blue ones. 

“Isaac,” Scott whispered shakily, trying to calm his breathing before he would have another asthmatic attack. Isaac’s bottom lip quivered, a single tear rolling down his cheekbone. Swallowing harshly he looked away. Scott noticed the way Isaac’s hands were trembling, fiddling restlessly.
Scott got to his feet clumsily and when he looked up he registered how Isaac had taken three paces back within the blink of an eye. Scott’s mind was racing. Had he done something to upset Isaac this much. Was it anything he had said. Oh god, was Isaac in trouble because of Scott. Was he fired, thrown out? But that did not make sense, because Isaac looked horrified, broken. Perspiration glistened along Scott’s hairline, his mouth suddenly very dry at the prospect.
Holding a hand halfway up Scott lowered his stance, it was as if he was approaching a wounded animal. The minute his eyes raked over Isaac though his heart skipped a beat, because Isaac was drenched in blood.
“What happened to you, you’re hurt!” Scott’s voice broke mid-sentence, choking on air as he slowly approached Isaac. Needing to be near the other, to seek out his wounds and tend to them. Because it felt like it was all somehow his fault. For all he knew Scott was the last one out of his group to talk to Isaac and he seemed afraid of Scott. Isaac was up against the wall, cowering away from him, his arms protectively wounded around himself, covering his face between the folds of his arms and knees. And that was just all kinds of wrong! Scott had never intended for Isaac to be afraid of him! God, how could he be so terrified of Scott, he was Scott. He was a vet for heaven’s sake. It pulled at his heart to know he could ever hurt someone this much.

“Isaac, I’m not going to hurt you, I promise I just.. I’m going to get you up okay.. we need to get away from here,” Scott explained, swallowing the foul taste in his mouth. His heart was breaking because Isaac had seemed like the easy going and happy guy, hell he had even been cocky during his act with his fellow performer, Derek. Now, he seemed like none of it. He seemed battered.
Slowly and ever so gently putting a hand on Isaac’s arms, Scott lowered himself, tilting his head to face the other. Isaac tensed even more so at his touch, if that was even possible at this moment.
“Isaac, please,” he pleaded coarsely.
“Look, I know that what I’m feeling are your feelings so I’m hoping you can feel mine and look,” Scott cautiously and timidly took one of Isaac’s hands, with his own trembling one, and carefully placed it against his chest. Right above his irregularly thudding heart, pressing it close.
“I swear I’m not going to hurt you,” he confessed, his heartbeat not once changing rhythm, not even fluttering.  
Isaac blinked once, the inner battle within him clearly shown upon his pale face. Scott pleaded with his eyes, hoping with all might that he could show what he truly felt, when words were so clearly failing him.    
Finally, Isaac gave the slightest shake of his head and Scott took it for a yes. Because he needed to bring him to safety, when all else pointed that he had been in danger and obviously there was no one taking care of him. Scott felt sick to his stomach.  
The situation was inhuman, it was outright barbaric and although in the back of his mind Scott wondered and more so feared how it was possible for Isaac’s eyes to glow or for any of this to be happening; he knew deep down that Isaac was special in the most magnificent of ways. Not to be feared but embraced and treasured. Therefore he filed all of the gnawing questions away for another time.
When they finally reached the Argent bungalow it was way passed sunset, the moon was shining brightly high up in the sky, accompanied by thousands upon thousands of stars. The beauty and fierce brightness of them were much like Isaac’s glowing electric blue eyes. The rustlings of wind playfully caressing through the trees, carelessly filled the sounds of the outside. Everything seemed so calm and peaceful.
Scott entered the house silently, Isaac close behind him though he lingered behind against the front door cautiously. Until Scott gave the all clear. Hurriedly they ran up the stairs heading straight for Scott’s room, in the pitch black of the seemingly vacant house.

“You can take my bed, it’s the right one,” Scott encouraged as he closed the door shut behind himself. Walking towards his bedside table he nearly bumped into Isaac, again, as he was still standing. Bit unsure of himself and Scott’s intentions. Placing his hand gently against Isaac’s chest Scott slowly pushed him down until he sat down.
“Just going to look for the lighter,” Scott explained his actions while kneeling down and reaching for the drawer of the nightstand. Rummaging through the drawer Scott finally found the lighter underneath an old book and lots of junk. He grasped it and scanned the room for the candles he and Stiles had lit up every night. As much as the power outage had been beneficial during their sneaking around, it also had its disadvantages.
Lighting the three candles, placed on his nightstand, Scott could finally see a bit more clearly. Being satisfied with it for now he turned to face Isaac. Who sat on his bed looking as if he were about to jump out of his own skin. So, instead of making awkward conversations Scott got serious and gazed at Isaac’s injuries. His lower abdomen was drenched in dried blood as well as his right leg, just above his kneecap. God, he needed a frikkin doctor and a whole frikkin hospital!
“Isaac, I’m going to need to lift up your shirt. I have to see how bad your injuries are, okay?” Scott implored gazing up to meet his eyes.
“Why?” The question fell off his lips so softly and brokenly, it left Scott speechless. Because why would he question that, when it obviously concerned his health. Scott’s eyes searched Isaac’s only to find them depressed, a hollowing gloominess poisoning them from within.
“Because you’re hurting,” Scott replied ever so gently, eyes pleading with the other.
Isaac’s face morphed into one of fury, “I don’t care!” He spitted out blazingly.
Scott flinched back at his tone, his pulse speeding up, “Isaac, I can’t help you if you won’t let me,” Scott tried to reason.
“I don’t recall asking for your fucking help! I don’t want your help!” Isaac growled, pushing Scott away as he started making his way to the door.
Scott’s heart was pounding, it felt like someone had stabbed him right in his heart and was grinding the blade ruthlessly into it. Against his better judgment he ignored Isaac’s demands and ran after him, preventing the other from leaving. Realizing fully well that despite Isaac’s interjections he did want Scott’s help, otherwise he would not have let Scott lead him to the Argent bungalow in the first place. Isaac was hurting and scared to the bone, probably still somewhat in a state of shock. However, unconsciously he must have known that he could trust Scott. Trust him enough to follow him and let Scott guide him, while wounded.
“I didn’t ask but I offered. God, Isaac what the fuck happened to you? Who the hell did this to you, you’re drenched in your own blood! We need to call the police or do frikkin something!” Scott was starting to lose his mind.
Isaac laughed half manically at him, eyes becoming thin lines.
“You think that would help? They killed my girlfriend!” Isaac strangled a cry of grief, his entire demeanour changing as his knees buckled from underneath him. No longer able to hold back the stream of tears that overflowed his eyes too quickly to stop. A dark gloomy shadow tainting the atmosphere.
No matter what Scott had thought or ever thought of fearing this was beyond any and all of that. Scott could feel the agony coursing through him, as Isaac not only mourned but was still hurting from his injuries.
Tentatively he approached the huddled mess at the foot of his bed, Scott lowered himself beside Isaac and lifted him carefully into the cradle of his arms and made sure to lay Isaac’s leg in a comfortable and suitable position. Isaac wept insufferably, clutching onto Scott dejectedly. Scott gingerly swayed Isaac in his arms until the other’s breathing eventually eased and fatigue clouded his physic.
Shushing Isaac soothingly, Scott carried him to his bed and kindly laid him down. Isaac whimpered at the loss of contact. Gently caressing the tears off Isaac’s face, Scott reassured him that he was not going anywhere. Isaac’s half fatigued figure finally slackened completely, the crease of his brows gradually smoothing out. However, Scott still needed to check the other’s injuries. Worrying they might get infected. Ever so slowly, did he roll up Isaac’s shirt. Dried blood gruesomely stained his pale abdomen, a probable stab wound had torn into his muscular tissue. Getting slightly closer, as Scott bent over the now sleeping form of Isaac, he could get a better look. Sighing in relieve he noticed the injury was not as bad as it had appeared to be. Though it was slightly confusing, considering the amount of blood coating Isaac’s clothing and his body. Another matter to file for later.
Trying to roll up Isaac’s well worn jeans, it did not go further than his knee and frankly Scott did not dare to pull much further either. Afraid he might end up hurting Isaac more so than he already had done.
Feeling like a total creeper he unbuttoned Isaac’s jeans, slowly unzipping and even slower pulling his jeans down. Isaac stirred, mumbling incoherently, causing Scott to have a mild heart-attack. Because holy shit! He was pulling a dude’s frikkin pants down! In fact, this was the first time he had ever pulled a guy’s pants down that was not his own!
His pulse hammered as he reluctantly went to finish what he had started. Admittedly, lifting Isaac’s buttocks up in order to pull the jeans down was harder than he had thought; without waking the kid up.
Did Isaac really have to wear such tight jeans though.

Finally being able to lower Isaac’s jeans down to his ankles, Scott gazed at the without a doubt bullet wound. But looking closer he could not find a bullet, which was odd seeing how the bullet must have pierced through his leg, but his leg was only punctured on one side. Unless, Scott was not seeing things correctly. Taking his light sources, moonlight and three candles, into consideration, he was a hundred percent sure that he was not seeing things clearly, obviously. Scott pulled Isaac’s pants off the rest of the way, because might as well go the entire way, right? Then softly pulled the covers over Isaac’s sleeping form. He must have been beyond exhausted to sleep through all of that. 
Scott got to his feet and reluctantly left the bedroom to get a first-aid kit from the bathroom, down the hallway. Glancing back to the closed door of the bedroom the entire way. Two seconds. It had been like two seconds of being with this kid and he already could not stomach leaving him alone. In his bed. In the darkness. Wounded and unable to defend himself. Scott, basically, tore through the bathroom in search for the kit and literally ran back to the room when he had found it. Feeling like the biggest douche ever to exist for leaving an unprotected and terrified victim behind.
Once he had reached his room though it left him puzzled how there was still no sign of any of the others. Maybe they were all hanging somewhere, sitting around a campfire or something. Either way Scott had other things to worry about.

Closing the door behind him he was met two sleep induced, glowing, blue eyes.
“What happened?” Isaac’s voice sounded choked up. Eyeing Scott frightfully.
“Nothing,” Scott blurted quickly rushing towards Isaac to reassure him, “I just got.. worried,” Scott cast his eyes down, scratching the back of his head. Nonetheless, he sat down beside Isaac on the bed, grasping the kit tightly.
“Oh,” Isaac visibly relaxed.
Scott noticed that and smiled goofily, a weight lifted off his shoulders, “Would you mind if I clean up your injuries then patch them up?” Scott implored, not intending to do anything without the others consent.
“You took my pants off,” Isaac remarked, narrowing his eyes at Scott.
Scott’s face paled at that, eyes growing wide as realization hit him. Embarrassment a quick second.   
“I am so sorry,” he rapidly apologized, almost choking on the lump forming in the back of his throat. Hastily getting off the bed, “I was just checking on your wounds, you see I’m a veterinarian and I was afraid of the severity of your injuries,” he quickly elaborated.
“So, you treated me like an injured animal?”
“What! No!” Scott’s heart was thundering in his chest, “Maybe,” he admitted miserably after a moment of silence.
“If I hadn’t just woken up, you wouldn’t have bothered asking me that, right,” Isaac stated rather than questioned. Scott felt like he was falling off the top of a building, the air knocked right out of him. Speechless. Because Isaac was right. He had never intended to do anything without Isaac’s consent, yet he already had done just that, had he not? Hunching in on himself, he staggered back numbly until the back of his knees hit Stiles’ bed, Scott sat down with a flop.

Feeling horribly ashamed of himself, because this was not the son his mother had raised him to be, Scott did not dare to do or say anything. He had acted on his instincts in a critical situation that had seemed life threatening at the moment.
“Someone’s here,” Isaac’s stricken voice broke the heavy built silence.
Scott shot up on his feet, shoving the kit under Stiles’ pillow then hurried towards Isaac’s bed.
“Where?” He whispered when suddenly his eyes fell on two guards, down below patrolling. Damn the frikkin windows, instead of solid none see-through concrete walls. Meant for the tremendous view? Downright privacy infringement!
“Walking up the stairs,” Isaac’s body had gone rigid. Glancing at him, Scott noticed claws were digging into the skin of the others hand. Which wait, what! Claws?!
How had Isaac even heard anyone? Scott must have been too caught up, drowning in his pool of shame, to pay attention to the others coming back home. He could not explain it otherwise.
Scott’s heartbeat became frantic, cold sweat running down his back. His shirt clamming to his back. The hairs at the back of his neck and arms standing upright. Quickly he blew the candles on the nightstand out, then proceeded doing the first thing that came to his mind. Pulling up the cover of the bed he sprawled himself over Isaac, one hand clasped tightly on the others mouth as he pulled the cover back up; up to the tips of his hair. Isaac had hid his face in the crook of his neck, just above his chest. Muffling a whimper from pain.
Then suddenly the door to their bedroom swayed open. A figure’s head poking in reflected on the window above Scott’s head. Bright ice-coloured light intruded the comforting darkness of their room, chilling both males to their core. If it were not for Scott, plastered flush against Isaac’s form the bedcovers would have trembled from the younger’s shaking. Nerves wracking his brain.

“Oh. Scott’s in his bed, asleep.” Allison’s hushed voice filled the room.
Obnoxious static noise shattered the unnerving silence of the house, Chris Argent’s voice echoing through the hallways. Reverberating off the walls and windows back to their ears.
“No, no sign of the other one or anyone else.” The door was starting to close as Allison’s voice started becoming less audible. More static noise ensued, Allison halted in her steps; standing mid-doorway.
“I don’t know dad. He’s probably at the circus or he has run off again, without being seen. Wouldn’t be the first time. He’s probably suicidal after what happened to—” The door was shut.    

Scott did not dare to move for a good ten minutes when Isaac started shaking his head up and down. Coming to the realization that his hand was still clasped over Isaac’s mouth Scott quickly snatched his hand back, lifting himself up on his elbows; placed at either side of Isaac.
“I’m sorry!” He apologized in a shushed voice.
“She’s gone,” Isaac informed, his face unperturbed.
“Yeah.. but she could still be in the house,” Scott replied still somewhat shaken.
“You don’t know that!”
“Yes, I do,” Isaac retorted impassively.
“How, how would you know!” Scott quizzed when suddenly he remembered Isaac’s claws.
Jerking away from Isaac and sitting up, straddling the other Scott snatched Isaac’s hand up to scrutinize it.
“You had claws,” Scott whispered somewhat awed at the now smooth, pale fingers before him.
“Could you let go of my hand, please?” Isaac asked trying to pull his hand back.
“And stop straddling me,” he added and Scott could swear he saw the corner of his mouth twitch upwards. Though he nodded and quickly got off Isaac, excusing his behaviour, again. Too bothered by the flood of emotions within him to remember their conversation and the unusualness of it.

“Scott,” Isaac raised a brow at him.
“What?” Scott replied confused.
“You’re still holding my hand.” Isaac’s face contorted into an expression that could only be described as a ‘duh’ expression.
“Oh!” Scott rapidly let go.
“You say that a lot,” Isaac pointed out, narrowing his eyes at him.
Scott just shrugged at that because honestly he did not know what to do with himself. He could not explain his actions or feelings. He did not feel ready to take responsibility for them either, it was just so confusing.
“I should tend to your injuries though,” Scott confessed after a moment of silence. This time however Isaac rather just gave a curt nod for a reply, instead of fighting him off.

Scott got serious as he started cleaning Isaac’s knife wound clinically and professionally. His full attention on what he was doing, while Isaac held a flashlight close up his injury. Fortunately, going through Stiles’ luggage proved to be useful, as a flashlight was found within one of the inner pockets.
Isaac’s eyes would glow when something during the cleaning procedure would hurt him. To which Scott responded by handling more carefully and quickly. Sweat trickling down the nape of his neck. He truly could not stomach hurting Isaac or seeing him hurting. It sent chills down to his very soul.

“They said you were businessmen,” Isaac’s hushed voice suddenly broke the tense air. Scott looked up, hands stopping mid-movement.
“I am, we are,” he replied bit taken aback.
“You said you’re a veterinarian,” Isaac eyed him suspiciously. Uncertainty and mistrust suddenly flooded through the connection.
“I am,” Scott’s shoulders sagged, “I studied to become a veterinarian while my friend, Stiles, was building his company. Because the money I had invested in his prototype, he offered me a job so I could pay for my college,” Scott briefly explained, looking bit unsure.
Isaac’s face became contemplative before he gave a nod, the uneasiness that had started building between them ebbing away.

Tending Isaac’s leg had been a lot harder, Scott could not seem to find the bullet. Until Isaac told him it had pierced through but Scott replied that his leg was only punctured on one side. Isaac just shrugged at that, for whatever reason not willing to share more on the matter. So, Scott did what he was supposed to do, his job. Thereafter, Scott crawled into Stiles’ bed, wishing Isaac a good night. Isaac had nodded and turned his back on him, gazing out the window until he fell back asleep.

Chapter Text

12:00 AM,       Alpes du Sud,
Alert: Code Black






The shrill vicious grumbling of lightening striking the open field of the Circus filled the ill darkness of the night. Along with the horrid sounds of the storm that was ravaging through the humble area, spine-chilling alarm bells wailed along. Rain poured down from the unseeing black skies, mercilessly. Turning more vicious in its wake, as the weather changed from pouring rain to a ruthless shower of hail. The alarms rang louder and louder, becoming deafening as the sounds of gunshots accompanied them. Resounding through the open field.

The next strike of blindingly white thunderbolt revealed Kate Argent, drenched to her core, her camouflage shirt glued to her body, hail showering off her leather jacket, mud covering her blackened jeans and knee-high boots. A Benelli M4 shotgun clamped painfully in her hand, artery and muscle flexing to their fullest. Just a glimpse and then everything turned pitch black once again. As the sound of the thunderbolt pierced through the air, the shotgun was fired, a yowl escaping its target.
At long last the projectors along with every single light within the area came on. Kate’s facial expression could only be described as maniacal. Sneering, with satisfaction clearly shown in her eyes, as she stared down at the whimpering figure on the ground. Hail punishing the wounded victim, ice cold wind clashing against the body, like mad waves upon rocks.





Isaac had screamed himself awake, letting out a scream of pure anguish that had Scott jumping out of his bed. Crashing face first onto the floor. Hurriedly, he made his way toward him, whose emotions were searing themselves with intensity onto Scott’s soul. It was a ruthless tornado of pain, bone-crushing guilt, anguish and sadness all tumbling into one, and them standing right in the eye of the tornado. Scott felt like he, too, was mourning a beloved lost one. Even though he did not know Isaac’s girlfriend, Scott had never seen anyone at Isaac’s side except for Derek. It made the hairs on the nape of his neck and arms stand up right as he realized just how strong this bond already was and despite its power it kept on getting stronger.
“Isaac, it’s okay,” Scott whispered, willing his voice to come out calm and soothing. But as the sweat trickled down his forehead, his heart thundering in his ears, he knew he was not calming anyone.
Isaac flashed aggravated eyes his way, the nightmare still haunting his exhausted eyes. His mind too slow on processing reality and being unable to distinguish one from the other.
“It’s me Scott, you had a nightmare,” Scott tried once more, putting a gentle hand on the other his shoulder. Isaac’s electric gaze slowly flickered back to its primary colour. His breathing evening out.
“Isaac,” came Scott’s soft voice, “do you want to talk about it? Sometimes it helps,” he shrugged half-heartedly. Isaac shook his head vehemently.
“Okay,” Scott nodded his understanding.
“You can go back to sleep, I’ll wake you up if anything happens, okay?”
Isaac eyed him with perhaps somewhat curiosity, his gaze lingering. Then ever so softly, in a hoarse voice did he reply, “Erica, that is— was her name,” Isaac stuttered, his inner battle to put up a front so visible. When he eyed Scott, unshed tears were reddening his blue eyes, his pulse quickening.
Scott got up wanting to reach out somehow but Isaac held up a hand, sensing his well meant intentions but not wanting to be comforted in such a physical way by anyone just yet. Scott nodded in comprehension and sat back down on the floor beside the bed.

“She had blond hair, a smile like a cat always out to be mischievous, ever the playful one... She had a heart of gold,” Isaac looked up from his hands, willing Scott to comprehend that. “Back in school when  things would get messy she would be the one to have my back,” Isaac cast his eyes down, wringing his hands together restlessly. Scott smiled ever so slightly, the thought of Isaac having a friend, like he had Stiles, warmed his insides. Un uneasiness in his stomach slightly unfolding. Scott gave Isaac’s shoulder a gentle, reassuring squeeze, willing him to continue.
“It was always us, all about us. With no one else to trust.” A tear streaked down his cheek, almost going unnoticed.
“When we were together, everything would be just ours, for a few hours things would be perfect and everything else became irrelevant. Neither of us would want to go back home, because home was where she was.” Isaac suddenly seemed to be caught in a memory, one hitting Scott right in the gut. Whatever the memory was it shook Scott to his core, because suddenly he felt mortified, feeling as if he was trapped and he could not breath. Could not get away from this tightening in his chest and lungs.
Grabbing at his own throat Scott was wheezing, another attack hitting him dead on. Isaac shot out of whatever he had been lost in and gazed at Scott in shock, a look of fear spreading itself like a virus in his eyes.
“Scott?” He neared him.
“What is wrong? Why aren’t you breathing?” He asked panic clutching onto him with its vice-like grip.  
“Inhaler,” Scott wheezed, trying very hard to control his breathing.
Isaac shot out of the bed, flipping through everything but coming up empty handed.
“Where is it? Scott, where is it?” He asked in a quivery voice.  
Scott gazed at the jeans he had been wearing earlier, which laid crumpled, tossed into a corner of the room. Isaac followed his gaze and hurriedly snatched it up, going through the pockets swiftly. Once he had the inhaler he rushed towards Scott, holding it in front of his lips. Inhaling deeply, Scott’s demeanor slackened slightly.
“I’m sorry,” Isaac apologized sadly, “I shouldn’t have dumped my baggage on you.”
“No,” Scott swallowed thickly, clearing his throat. “Isaac, I’m glad you were able to talk to me,” he gave a small smile.
“It’s just, what were you thinking about when.. it felt like the walls were closing in, almost like… being buried alive,” Scott frowned deeply, “it was god-awful!!”
Isaac’s head snapped up, fear tainting his features. “Nothing.” He replied quickly, voice coarse.
Scott nodded. He was not even sure if he did want to know what had caused Isaac to feel that way. Whatever it was, Scott was sure that in time if Isaac wanted, he would tell him about it. Just like he had opened up mere seconds ago.
“Isaac, I’m deeply sorry for your loss.” Scott’s voice came strong, unassailable, looking him straight in the eyes. Isaac gave a wan nod, although Scott could tell Isaac appreciated someone else’ confirmation, if perhaps grievous, that at least it got acknowledged.
“Get some sleep, Isaac, I’ll be right here.” Scott reassured. The slighter appeared to be contemplating something, before he laid on his back, pulling the covers and closed his eyes.
Neither bothering to wish the other a good night, it had proven to be improbable. At least for the time being. Scott wandered back to Stiles’ bed, climbed himself on it and sat back, back against the icy glass window. Pulling up both his legs against his chest, arms folded on the tops of his kneecaps. Facing Isaac’s calming posture.






Derek without a doubt had lost it. Once the impact of one his packmates being killed had truly hit him, his vision had turned scarlet, claws extended, shoulder set broadening as he shapeshifted, lethal canines piercing through. A metallic taste spread like wildfire across his tongue, his razor sharp fangs were puncturing in to his gum. He wanted to taste blood, rip every hunter’s throat out, slash their ribcage and rip their hearts out. He was out for blood, revenge, killing anyone who were to dare stand in his way. Derek brutally slammed his fist into the steel door of his cell, blood tainting his palms, streaming down his arms. Surely, he was not able to dent it but he could most definitely blow it off its hinges. It seemed that for whatever reason things were not working accordingly, such as his bracelet. The dosage of wolfsbane intoxicating through his system was at an all time low. This allowed for Derek to use his strength to its fullest.

Boom. Boom. Boom. The sound echoed across the hallways. Each blow measured and clashing against the strains strategically. As the cell door finally gave way to the strength of the punches, it fell off its hinges with a loud bang. Derek stood still behind the fallen door, dust spreading into the air, his shoulders heaving from harsh breathing, his head tipped down, claws at his sides. One glance, as his crimson eyes finally looked up he let out a thundering roar. The guards in front of him immediately gunning tasers at him, previous too occupied with calling for backup. Derek raised a single eyebrow as he eyed the four dart-like electrodes puncturing through the flesh of his shoulders, two on either side. His body shook vehemently as he fell to his knees but the Alpha was too enraged to let tasers stop him from exacting vengeance. Clamping his hands around the projectiles he pulled them out with a low menacing growl, blood spat into the air as the four projectiles were ripped out of his muscles. Slowly, trails of blood coursing down his shoulders. The guards eyed one another and before either had the opportunity of thinking of a way to put the feral-like Alpha down, Derek was up and moving. Derek grasped the closest one at his face, claws digging into flesh, and slammed the guard with wrathful force into the concrete wall behind him. His skull fracturing under the sheer power of Derek’s blow.  A small part of him, in the back of his mind warned him about movement  behind him. But Derek was too busy wrenching his claws out of the dying guard, tattered skin and blood cluttered underneath his claws. As Derek whipped around to face the other guard, he was met by an entire group of them. Derek growled when he got tackled down by three men, four others joining quickly. Kicking him in his sides, his face, his back, his stomach. All the while Derek was being held down by the former three guards, stamping their feet crushingly on his arms and legs, as way of holding him down, while the others beat down on him. Derek managed to clasp one hand around one of the guards ankle, digging his claws around it. The guard let out an inhuman scream then in retaliation, swung his leg back and kicked Derek  in the face. The metallic and salty taste of blood was overflowing Derek’s taste buds. In fact, he was sure he was drenched in blood as the blows kept on coming, Derek’s heartbeat thundering in his ears, until he could not hear anymore. The only sound was this skin crawling bleep, filling his eardrums. Derek slowly was becoming less and less aware of the pain he was in, his vision darkening until unconsciousness claimed him.                  

Derek had been carried away and put under lockdown, guarded by two men, whom were from the military. Usually teamed up along with eighteen others, theirs forming Foxtrot.


The next day, Stiles, Isaac and Scott had a nervous twinge, noticeable by Danny and Lydia.
Jackson had brought Danny and Lydia to the cottage late last night, when Kate gave the okay. The Argents had told them one of their circus animals was missing, and that it was dangerous. Little did they know, Kate meant Isaac.

“Why is he still here?” Lydia asked Scott.
“He’s uhh, visiting me?”
Lydia looked at him cross, “I know that he hasn’t left this house in over 24 hours, don’t lie to me Scott.” She was agitated, everyone seemed to be keeping secrets.
“I can’t tell you yet.”
Stiles knew why so he kept his mouth closed, yet nobody would know their rendez-vouz with Peter would be happening in an hour. He also didn’t tell anyone he slept on the couch, because someone was in his bed and the other bed was occupied as well.

“And you Stiles? Will you tell me what was up yesterday?” Lydia asked.
Stiles looked at her and faced the floor, “Just wait a little longer.”
Lydia got so angry that she picked up a book and tossed it against the wall.
“Why is nobody saying anything.”
She stomped while cursing under her breath into the bathroom. Stiles looked at Scott and shrugged.

Soon they heard the shower being turned on.
“Seems Lydia is going to take a shower, you guys dodged a bullet,” Danny said calmly. “But don’t think I do not want to know what’s going on. I’m just a bit more patient.”
Danny opened the newspaper, “In the meantime, I’ll wait as you said.”

Isaac seemed nervous, tense. Sweat was forming on his forehead. Stiles eyed him, and Isaac gulped. A look of deliberation ghosting over his features.
Stiles directed a small smile at Isaac, offering some comfort of sorts. Turning his gaze toward his friend, Stiles noticed Scott looking at Isaac warmly. This seemed to calm him somewhat, but he was still somewhat fidgety. Isaac sat down on the couch, casting glances at Scott and looking at his shoes if he wasn’t.
This seemed even to catch Danny’s eyes, but he didn’t say anything... yet.

Stiles was pacing through the eerily silent room. The only thing heard was his footsteps and Lydia in the shower. When she reappeared from out of the shower and entered the quiet room she narrowed her eyes at the fellas, “Who died in here?”
“Nobody yet…” Isaac muttered, he then caught himself. “It’s a joke,” smiling shyly, pink flush  spreading across his face.

Isaac tensed which caught everyone’s attention.
 “It’s okay,” Lydia smiled, side elbowing him playfully.

“What’s wrong Isaac?” Scott inquired, worry marring his vocals.
“Someone is coming,” Isaac replied, the hair on his arms raising. Scott looked alarmed, “Then why aren’t you hiding?!”
Isaac regarded him with a small smile, “It’s not one of the Argents.”
“It’s Isaac’s thing,” Stiles added at the others confused looks.
A knock on the door ensued.

“Is someone going to answer that?” Lydia chirped from the kitchen. When she didn’t get a response she huffed irritated, “Men!” Then continued to stalk towards the door.
Opening the door it revealed an older man with a goatee, mustache and brown hair standing rather impatiently.
“Ah, I see Isaac’s here,” the stranger noted, letting himself in, while casting a glance at the others in the room.
“Funny that they haven’t found you yet.”

“Excuse you?” Lydia crossed her arms defensively in front of her chest, “who are you and why are you here?” She leveled the stranger with a defiant glare.
“Dear Lydia, My name is Peter Hale and I’m here on Stiles’ behalf. We have some matters to discuss regarding yours and my furry friends’ future.”
Lydia snorted, “Furry friends? What do you think we are, advocates from P.E.T.A?”
Someone started squirming on the coach, Isaac. He looked clammy and nervous, like he knew what was coming next. And he did.
“No, furry friends like your friend Isaac over here, or Derek, or me… or the recently deceased Erica. Might as well add Jackson on the list of the furry while we’re at it.”
Isaac went rigid, his pale face turning grim at the mention of Erica, hands clamped tightly into fists.

Danny and Lydia laughed out loud.
“What a joke! Did you plan this Stiles?”
Their eyes turned toward him, Stiles was looking dead serious.
“Actually… it’s not a joke,” he paused. “I know it sounds weird, but this entire place is weird. I’ve gotten some answers and with the help from Peter. I’m going to try to explain them to you,” he elaborated.

Stiles looked puzzled. “I don’t really know where to begin actually.” He became tense. What if they don’t believe me? Scott has to, but Lydia and Danny?
Peter interjected, “Let’s start about these?” He held up his arm showing a bracelet. A bracelet that they all have come to know. Danny and Lydia’s laughing immediately died.
“You guys are criminals, prisoners?” Danny asked. His demeanor seemed calm, but he looked to be fighting the urge of fight or flight. Lydia simply looked shocked, perhaps a tad frightened.

“They are prisoners in a way,” Stiles started. A thanking nod was sent to Peter. “The Argents are keeping them captive. This bracelet is a modified version of the one I made, only it’s more lethal. The Bracelet leaks a sedative into their system, while puncturing through bone. The shock given has also been boosted to a lethal level.” Stiles scraped his throat. “How they did this, or obtained the devices, I don’t know. What I do know is that they had the money and resources to modify these.”
 “Now you might wonder a few things,” Peter took over. “How can me and poor Isaac not be bleeding constantly, and if we are being sedated how are we still standing. The answer is quite simple, we are werewolves.”
Peter showed the group, what he had showed Stiles. Red eyes, claws and bigger teeth were staring at them.
“This almost reminds me of the red-riding hood fairy tale,” Danny said giggly. “The wolf coming to eat us all.” Lydia was freaked, unknowingly she had scooted as far back against the wall as she could. Getting farther wasn’t possible, she probably would though, if she could.
Peter howled directly at Isaac, causing a ripple of air to hit him. Instantly shifting Isaac into a werewolf. Even Scott was taken aback, eyes shot wide as he too had backed away. It became clear that he didn’t know about any of this. The only one seeming to be unsurprised was Stiles himself.
They all looked at Stiles. “Ow, they won’t hurt us, for crying out loud,” Stiles rolled his eyes.
This seemed to relieve the atmosphere in the room a little.
Peter took that as his cue to continue, “Well, as you can see, we’re not completely human. Though for the most part, the sedative called wolf’s bane keeps us that way. Or well them, I get a lower dose of wolfs bane then all of the others.  But that’s for later..” He thought he was done but then remembered something. “We’re not bleeding because we have faster healing, though that too is reduced.”
Isaac stared at Peter and he stared back. “Though, your bracelet can just as easily be removed, seeing it’s brain dead thanks to Stiles here.”
“Although mine is currently offline as well, again thanks to Stiles.”
Peter didn’t seem like one for expressing gratitude, but he had to. To win over the group of humans here, Stiles detected. 

Stiles turned towards his friends. “Guys, trust me on this. I’ve shown you enough information to at least indicate that parts of this are true.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw Scott tentatively giving Isaac a one-armed hug, who was mewling ever so slightly.

At least one person has passed his fear

He watched Peter turn up a small sinister smile, “There is one more thing, that you actually have to tell Stiles. Regarding Isaac and Scott, you and Derek.”
Stiles shot him daggers.
“I’d rather not talk about that now, Peter,” he exclaimed.
Lydia piped up from the corner, “What are you not telling us Stiles Stilinski!”
He sighed. “Well, it seems that I have a connection to Derek, where I can feel his emotions. Just as Scott and Isaac have with each other. Peter said it meant we were bonded and therefore we are Mates. Though it doesn’t mean what it sounds like. We haven’t actually… Mated.”
A low deep rumbling growl escaped Isaac’s lips, flashing eyes directed toward Peter. Scott had removed himself from around Isaac, his entire body tense, eyes cast down. Gazing ahead of him, a pensive look on his features.

A chuckle came from Danny, intensifying the building tension instead of breaking it. He looked at Stiles, who was eying Isaac curiously.
 “Does this mean, Scott and you are gay?”
Stiles jumped to the defensive. “No! At least  I don’t think so.” He flailed his arms into the air, waving at nothing in particular.
Lydia interrupted him, “I don’t know what’s crazier to believe, werewolves or you being a mate for another man. A sexy one I might add.”
“Look, save it for later. We totally got side track here!” He looked at Peter for confirmation and started going about their plan.
“Tonight is a full moon, the werewolves will be at their strongest. The Argents are still unaware of the bracelets malfunctioning. They thought Isaac’s and Erica’s were a simple occurrence. Peter has gained the trust of the Argents making him a key player.”
Peter scratched his throat. “I can undo the locks on Isaac and Jackson’s door. Though Isaac’s should be unnecessary if he stays here. The only problem I have is freeing Derek, plus I have some other things to take care off. That’s what you have to do Stiles.” Peter had spoken directly to him.

“I know where he is, but I don’t know how to free him.”

A glum smile crossed Peter’s face. “That is for you to figure out, and I expect your cooperation, even though your loss was great Isaac.” With that being said, Peter spun his heel and left.

“They will be missing me soon, I’ll be going back. Good luck.”

This left Stiles in a room with three friends, he didn’t know how said friends would react further and a sad werewolf.
“Well this was something, wasn’t it guys?” His gaze trailed to Danny and Lydia who were now sharing a chair, looking confused. Scott would be his first target, easiest to convince.

“You know it’s true Scott, I know you have felt the connection to Isaac, you saw him shift, you know he isn’t bad.”
Scott eyed him contemplatively. “I knew for a long time, that something was fishy. I mean, I like Allison you know, but her behavior has been weird. Yesterday she came into the house, looking for Isaac. Talking all creepily,” Scott scratched the back of his head, suddenly appearing bashful, “I didn’t know what to do, so I kinda.. eh.. hid him.. with my body like pancaked across his,” a deep flush spread over Scott’s face running down his neck.
 Stiles busted into laughter. “That is the most Scott-like solution ever. I really mean ever.”
Scott seemed slightly embarrassed but kept his cool.
“Yeah well, I was trying to help your case by showing their suspicious behavior in an example. One that actually happened.”
Lydia responded, “This is all too weird, so either this is a dream, of which I seriously know isn’t. Or this just has to be true. What have I gotten us into,” She sighed dramatically.
Danny followed her up, “Have you like, tried talking to them?”
Stiles was stunned, “Given the circumstances, I think you can guess the answer to that.”
“Anyway, I’m going to help Peter with his plan, I have to get Derek’s cell, room, chamber, whatever you want to call it, unlocked for the big event. With or without you guys, but I prefer with, really really prefer with!” Stiles added the last part as an extra emphasis.

Stiles remembered how to get there, and counted the guards in his memory of the event that had led him to this. One at the stairs, two at the cell itself.
Scott looked down at his feet, “I can’t, I need to pro— be with Isaac, he’s injured,” he quickly recuperated himself, pointing out the obvious in the hopes that his excuse were believable enough.
“Danny?” Stiles turned towards him. Danny’s response was similar to Scott, “I’m still not sure about all of this Stiles.”
Is there really nobody who wants to help me? I need to help Derek, I can feel his sorrow seeping into my mind. I can only ignore it for so long.
“Oh for crying out loud, I’m going to help you Stiles,” Lydia replied, throwing her hands up in pity.
“Besides you need me, you’re nothing without me. Plus I might be able to meet Derek again.”
Lydia scolded Scott and Danny for being weak men and waggled her eyebrows at the mention of seeing McDreamy again.
“Give me thirty minutes to prepare and then we’ll do it” she told him and went into her room.



He paced the entire time , waiting for her to come out. She came out dressed to perfection, make-up matching. “God Stiles, why haven’t you changed?” She yammered.
“I didn’t know I was supposed to?” He got a cross stare into his direction.
“Go upstairs, wear a nice suite and the pink socks I gave you.” She smirked ruefully.
“Yes ma’am,” Stiles said while heading upstairs. No idea what had gotten into her brain. What was this 007?
He dressed up in a black Armani suit with a purple blouse underneath…and the pink socks she specifically requested. A personal touch of All-Star sneakers was added, simply to thwart Lydia.
A quick look in the mirror to get out any efficiencies in his hair and he walked back down confident.
Lydia glanced him over, didn’t say anything about the sneakers.
Score one for team Stiles.
“Have you thought about, how to get his lock open?”
“Ehh…not really,” Stiles admitted sheepishly, scratching the top of his head.
 “Well luckily you have me.” With that she strode out of the front door, expecting Stiles to follow.

They walked over to the Circus with ease. Everything seemed to have calmed down.
“The silence before the storm” he muttered.
Stiles guided Lydia into the circus through the maze of tunnels. They had passed a few guards, but they hadn’t batted an eye. Lydia was spotted a lot the past few days, the guards figured they were now fully cleared to be on the premises.
Then the first obstacle appeared. The first guardsman, guarding the stairs.
Stiles had deduced that they only used one guardsman here because this wasn’t the important section. They’d rather have Derek guarded well instead of the entrance to the rooms.
 “Excuse us, we’d like to go down,” Lydia said politely, throwing her charm at the guardsman.
“It’s unauthorized,” they were told in a strict, unwavering voice.
Lydia started her charade. “If we were unauthorized, do you think we’d know that you are guarding Derek, a werewolf.” The guard seemed to be taken aback by her statement.
“We were cleared,” she said with confidence. An uncertain face was staring at her.
“Or would you rather have me contact the Argents first?” Lydia’s smile turned decisive.
“Would you really want to risk wasting their time, I don’t think they’d appreciate it. Especially now that Isaac is still missing, yes we know about that as well. Filthy werewolves need to be restrained.” Her seriousness won the guard over, he gulped and opened the door.
“I would think so,” she huffed, her head held high, shoulders straight, as she strode down the stairs. A satisfied one-sided smile lighting up her face.

Stiles and Lydia descended the stairs, following the steps leading to the room they had to visit.
She sighed, “Damn, I never knew I could lie that well. Not to highly trained guardsmen.”
Stiles seemed to be genuinely impressed. “A job well done, but the hard part comes next Lydia.”
The room they entered was barren, except for the jail bars where a slack-jawed Derek was sitting on a cot. And two guardsmen doing their job. Lydia glanced at Stiles and gave a curt nod.
“Hello men, is this the way to treat a lady?”
They were taken aback by her friendliness. “Ma’am, you shouldn’t be here.”
“Actually, I was told to come watch Derek here. Besides if I wasn’t supposed to be here, the guard upstairs didn’t clear me. You should ask him.” She enforced.
A quick call was made to the doorman, and they were okay’d.

“Glad to have you on our side,” they said to the twosome.
Stiles looked fidgety. In fact he was extremely nervous, luckily Lydia was doing the work for him.
She wrapped the guardsmen around her finger, with her sweet voice, charm, curves and unquestionable cunningness.


Lydia can totally work it, he thought.
Snapping back to reality, Stiles saw Lydia giving him small signals. She kept looking at the pants of one of the guardsmen. What? He has a big bulge or what?
She turned her head and looked at him annoyed. So he looked again.
“KEYS!” He yelled out loud. Lydia shot daggers at him.

“Keys?” One of the guardsman raised a brow in question, eyes narrowing.
“I just remembered where I left my keys, sorry. Don’t mind me. I’m just the crazy inventor of their bracelets,” He said pointing towards Derek’s bracelet. 
Stiles edged closer towards Derek.
“You guys don’t mind if I take a closer look at the uhh… specimen?” He smiled idiotically wide.
“I have a remote, similar to Kate stashed in my pocket,” Stiles was quick to reassure tapping his pocket to prove it, but it was actually his phone.  The guards glanced at one another, they seemed to find it odd, regardless turned their backs on him.
“Why don’t you get us some coffee?” Lydia had asked eyeing the left guard with a enigmatic, edging on seductive glance, that led them to believe there was a subtle innuendo behind her little suggestion.
“We’ll be staying here for a while.” He looked at his partner who gave the nod and left the room. This left only one guard in the room. Who wasn’t really suspicious, seeing they were cleared by Kate… Supposedly.
The minute the guardsmen left, Lydia flirted heavily with the guy, while Stiles tried to seem occupied with staring at the walls in pretence unawareness.
Lyds was more than friendly with the guardsman, hugging him, touching him and whispering in his ear. Curling her strawberry blond hair around a finger, while basically eye-fucking the poor lad. Fortunately he didn’t know that Lydia had fondled the keys out of his pocket, holding them out to Stiles. The poor guard didn’t know what hit him. She kept him busy for the time being, but time was short. Stiles didn’t have long.



“Derek,” he whispered, can you hear me?”
He was clearly being ignored, cause Derek’s body rippled hearing his voice and he felt anger building up in him. It’s not like he hadn’t heard us coming and what was said, reminding himself.
“Look, I know you’re still angry with me for creating this device, but it has come to my attention that they are modified, not used like I intended to.” A small sigh escaped him. “I never wanted this.”
His hands making the small motion for “this”.
“Peter and I have made a plan to get you all out of here, taking down the Argents if it’s possible. Tonight is the full moon.”
At the mention of Peter, something else flowed into the bond. Hope, curiosity, but also mistrust and fear. Not a word came out of Derek, which was quite logical. The guard would also notice if he did anything but listen.
“You don’t have to trust me, but you can trust Peter can’t you?” He whispered softly.
A small pain forming in his heart, he hated the fact that Derek wouldn’t trust him. None of his friends seemed to trust his plan, except for Lydia. It made him feel awful, but also glad that Lydia still joined him in this madness.
He paused. “This connection isn’t a one-way street. It’s a two-way street. You can feel how sincere I am at this moment.” Stiles his heart was pounding, hands going clammy.
This has to work, he has to know how I feel.
“I only have one last thing, to show you I’m sincere.”
A playful smile was upon Stiles’ face.  Lydia’s not the only one with a form charm.
This was a peace offering, from him to Derek.
He took out the handkerchief in his pocket and put the keys in the handkerchief. He knotted it into a small knapsack and slid it across the narrow shutter. The fabric making it unable for the keys to make a sound when they fell on the concrete ground.
“Those are the keys to your jail door. Don’t let them know you have them. Wait for the signal to come out.” Stiles stood up. “I feel really bad about what happened to Erica, but you can exact revenge tonight, Derek. We need you, but it’s your decision.”
With that he spun around, shutting out Derek’s feelings to do what had to be done.
Guilt, washing over his mind. Guilt for leaving him behind, guilt for shutting him out.

“Lydia, I have seen enough of this filthy mongrel.”
She understood the cue, “I guess our time is up anyway,” she pecked the guard on the cheek and mouthed ‘Call me.’
Together they left the room. Stiles turned his head only once, for one more glance before leaving Derek.
His eyes aching for any signal, that Derek trusted him, was going to do this.
Though he simply didn’t know yet, the bond passed along emotions who were in turmoil. They were not only his, but also Derek’s. Stiles would wait out the time, and check in now and then on the bond.

Acting all cool and not on the verge of a nervous breakdown as they left the circus. Stiles gave Lydia a peck on the cheek.
“You were awesome, I couldn’t have done this without you.” Her cheeks reddened and they left for the cottage, acting like nothing happened.





Once Lydia and Stiles had left, Danny had walked Jackson back to the circus. As for Peter, he had disappeared into thin air. Which had left Scott frowning with frustration. Because what the hell had just happened? Werewolves were real? How was that even possible? Were they like, infected from a wolfs’ bite? Peter and Isaac had looked scary as hell when they had shifted, the ugly kind of scary. A thousand questions were swirling through Scott’s mind, like, ‘Dude, what the hell just happened to your eyebrows?’ or ‘How do you grow facial hair that quickly?’. However, what had left Scott feeling unsettled was the fact that Stiles knew about all of this. Stiles even knew about the connection between Scott and Isaac.

Had Isaac told Stiles about it? Had they secretly met up and talked about shit behind his back?

It left Scott bewildered, rather hurt and feeling betrayed. Even if it were not the case, he could not control how he was feeling about it. Why had Isaac never bothered to explain jack to him?

The atmosphere in the kitchen was quite tense. Isaac was seated across from Scott at the bar/dining table. Neither had spoken a word since the others’ departure.
Gnawing at his bottom lip Scott finally shot his puppy-like eyes at Isaac, a crinkle forming between his brows.
“Your eyes flash, you have these weird claws,” he began accusatory, “why didn’t you just explain it when I asked you about it?” Scott pursed his lips into thin lines.
“Because I didn’t feel the need to explain myself to you,” came a blunt reply.
Scott was taken aback because what the hell, after all the shit Scott went through, this was what he was getting?
“Not even after I carried your ass here and tended to you? Hell even hid you from the girl I really, really like?” Betrayal evident in his eyes.
“I never asked you, remember? You ‘offered’,” Isaac spit mimicking Scott’s voice.
“Isaac,” Scott pleaded, the why of it was beyond reasons even he did not know.
“It shouldn’t have been Peter running his mouth,” Isaac began bit reluctant, his intonation edging on irritation.
“I could have explained about the ‘mate’ thing to you but I didn’t, because I didn’t want you,” Isaac shrugged, an impassive look on his features.
Scott did not know why that stabbed him right in the gut but it did. Damn it, he was going to have a major headache.
“Yeah, but you didn’t explain, so where does that leave us now?” Scott asked then flinched at the realization of having said ‘us’ as if they were friends or whatever.
“And what’s with the whole ‘mate’ thing, like are you Australian or?” Scott’s face was contorted with disarray. Right then he got smacked on the back of his head.
“Ouch!” He yelped turning around to face his attacker, while pouting.
“Of course he is not Australian, you idiot!” Danny rolled his eyes as he took a seat beside him. When had Danny even gotten back? This dude was everywhere.

“What it means is,” Danny fixed Isaac with a questioning look, “do you want me to do your job at explaining or are you going to grow a pair?” Danny implored.
Isaac sighed, placing both of his palms flat on the table and avoiding Scott’s eyes for a long time.
“It means you’re ‘meant for me’,” Isaac air quoted.
“My wolf has mated you, well, not really yet but…” Isaac drifted off, suddenly appearing rather uncomfortable in his own skin. A sense of embarrassment flooding through the link.

“You didn’t want me and besides.. you’re in love with Erica,” Scott stated somewhat reluctant.

This was all just too much. First all the crazy, unexplainable stuff that were going on, the Circus, the bond and now the performers turning out to be werewolves; yet imprisoned by a dysfunctional version of Stiles’ bracelets. On top of all that someone had died and because of his bond, Scott felt like he too had lost this person. This person that loved Isaac and vice versa. Even with all that knowledge deep down Scott was hurting because Isaac had said, spoken out loud, voiced his feelings and thoughts. He did not want Scott.
And that was that.

Admittedly, Scott had at least acknowledged to himself that he had some feelings toward Isaac. No, he could not necessarily explain them but he would be fooling himself if he were to say he did not have them. Fact of the matter was that despite the situation, the how’s and the where’s, Isaac and Scott shared something extraordinary. Even if Scott previous never had laid eyes on a guy, never feeling attracted to one either, he was attracted to Isaac. Isaac’s existence was literally magical. Tired of fighting and questioning his feelings and his instincts, Scott felt like giving in. Screw the labels, screw questioning himself. Because the one thing he most certainly could no longer question were his true feelings toward Isaac. The way his pulse would quicken whenever he would get close. The ability to sense the others emotions, allowing for Scott to share the slightest bit of that magical persona. He found it heartwarming to find out more about Isaac. To simply be allowed to get to know him, spend time with him. Even if most of that time had been spent watching over the werewolf. How it wrenched his gut that Isaac had been injured, tortured. For once in his life being thankful for his asthma, had it not been for his asthmatic attack, he would never have seen Isaac inside the Evoque. Never would have found Isaac, or been able to tend to his injuries. To offer him a semblance of safety.

Isaac eyed Scott wearily. He was not going to deny the statement, because it was true. Perhaps that would be for the best. This world, Isaac’s world, Scott had gotten a taste of was cruel. It was dangerous, nothing was ever certain. It was being controlled and monitored by people way above any of them. Scott could not hang around and pretend he was fine while he clearly was not. Not with the connection they had. Putting up a front would be of no use to them. And he was not going to force his feelings upon anyone, they were his and therefore his problem. No one but he should have to deal with that.
If Scott felt Isaac’s mood taking on his, saddening in what was probably defeat, then he was not going to let it be noticed. It had been a lost battle right off the bat.
Scott no longer able to look at the person across from him, knowing that he had frankly no right to feel like he ever had a claim on Isaac or anything for that matter, pushed his chair back and walked away. Because when it all was said and done Scott had never had him, so he could not lose him either, right? If Scott heard the soft whimper escaping Isaac at his departure then he did not let it show.
He walked up the stairs. Deciding on packing his luggage. It had been a nice, long and eventful trip, to say the least. But there had to come an end to all things. Unlike his friends, Scott had actually his other job to get back to.   



Isaac sat there, his wolf howling as his mate walked away. Gnawing at him to follow his mate. Because it had felt like Scott had given up on him. Just the thought brought tears to his eyes. Even the one person meant for him, his other half, had given up on him.
 What Isaac had neglected to mention to Scott, unable to voice it, was that despite his love for Erica; he could never love anyone as much as he would his mate. Nevertheless, he had let that part out because he was not ready to deal with that. Not now. Just, not yet. Not when his heart was still aching from Erica’s absence.
Although were he able to sit back and watch his mate walk away, hear him packing his stuff? Feeling everything he felt…




Derek gripped onto the handkerchief tightly, Stiles’ scent lingering tantalizingly all over the fabric. Which to his aggravation calmed his wolf. The scent felt familiar, warm, sweet, safe. Like home. Regardless his mind kept going over the events, over and over. Over all of the information Derek had been able to gather about Stiles and his little group of friends and associates. Stiles’ heart had not skipped a beat when he had been confiding his plan to Derek. Even so Derek could not help himself but question his motives, his actions. What if it was a huge plot to torment Derek and his pack some more. It would not be the first time Kate did something insane, inhuman regarding them.      
After hours of fretting and brooding Derek took the key from its folds, awaiting the signal. 

Is was starting to feel like forever when the signal finally had been given, a piercing howl shattering through the sky to be quickly followed by several others. At the sound one of the two guards standing at his chamber left in a hurry, becoming aware that the situation called for serious back-up and proper ammunition.
At the security’s departure Derek had been able to make his move. Starting with pulling the remaining guard at his collar towards the door. Derek’s hand came stealthily stretching out of the shutter, to then proceed choking the guard. As the body gradually went limp, it fell from his hold. Derek grabbed the key then stretched his arm further, using his claws to reach the last inches and unlock his door. However the key had nearly slipped from his grip, it had his pulse speeding inexplicably. This perhaps was his one and only opportunity to get out, to escape. Everything depended on this one moment. Whatever Derek had ever dared to allow himself, the smallest shred of hope, this was it. This was that shred of hope. Pulling himself together, taking three deep breaths he tried once again, more carefully, and then managed to unlock it. Cold sweat running down his back, plastering his tattered shirt to his body. Swiping the sweat off his forehead, he looked up thanking whoever for his luck from the bottom of his heart. Derek hurriedly dragged the body into the chamber then quickly closed its door shut and locked. Just as he was about to hurry his way out of the circus, booming, deafening alarms started ringing. Derek looked around him anxiously, taking in all the possible exits any threat could come from. Soon, the sound of thunder, vehicles, commands, bullets, howls accompanied the wailing alarms. It was utter chaos. Derek did not hesitate when he heard sounds of multiple footsteps echoing through the hallways, he made a run for it. Deciding to take a different hallway and prayed he would make it out alive. While his wolf was starting to take over more and more Derek’s mind kept getting consumed with thoughts of Stiles. Derek did not trust him even if he was his mate. Especially not after he had found out that Stiles’ device was the reason behind years upon years of imprisonment, pure agony for what seemed like a decade. The fact that Stiles had risked a lot himself in order to get Derek his free ticket, it said something about the kid. Not much, all things considered but it did say something. 

As the sound of the thunderbolt pierced through the air, the shotgun was fired, a yowl escaping its target.
At long last the projectors along with every single light within the area came on. Kate’s facial expression could only be described as maniacal. Sneering, with satisfaction clearly shown in her eyes, as she stared down at the whimpering figure on the ground. Hail punishing the wounded victim, ice cold wind clashing against the body, like mad waves upon rocks.

Derek was downright howling, crying out in pain. His entire right side, ribcage, organs were a gaping hole. It was literally blown away. His body was trembling furiously, blood draining. His eyes had rolled back into their sockets. Tears flowing down his face from agony. Horrifying shrieks ripping from his body.

Chapter Text

Jackson did not have the luxury to sit in his chamber and wrack his brains on everything that had happened. He never would have expected to see Danny, his best friend from childhood, in this forsaken place.

What was I even supposed to say to him? He had pondered.

Jackson had smelled a vaguely familiar scent, a whiplash of his nearly forgotten past hitting him and once it had dawned on him that it was Danny, he had gone out of his way to find him. Just to hold his friend close. After the many years of terror and agony it had been astonishing to see his Danny! It had been surreal.

Jackson sat in a corner within his chamber, absentmindedly circling invisible shapes with his fingers on the ground. As he was losing himself further into thoughts from his childhood, his door suddenly swung open, a blast of icy air hissed into the room and hit Jackson in the face. Insufferable Peter Hale was standing in the threshold gazing down at him expectantly.

“What the hell are you doing?” Jackson gritted out, getting to his feet quickly.
“Where’s Derek? Why are you here? If anyone sees you it’ll be me who has to endure the consequences!” Jackson approached Peter, who wore a look of agitation mixed with self-righteousness. Peter cocked his head to one side, a contemplative look passing his usually impassive face.

“We’re breaking out tonight. Considering you’re Derek’s little pup, I reckon he’ll be needing you at his side.” Just like that Peter’s demeanor morphed into one of ice and depreciatory. The alpha moved to turn his back on Jackson, however Jackson’s words made him halt in his steps.

“What will you be doing?” Jackson challenged, crossing his arms in front of his chest defiantly.
“Not that it is any of your concern, Jackson,” Peter’s voice dripped enmity, his eyes blazing crimson.
“I have matters of my own that needs being taking care of.” The alpha’s tone left no room for arguments, neither did the fact that he left. Leaving a bewildered and terribly suspicious Jackson behind.

Jackson rapidly hurried after the alpha, if he followed him closely then if anything were to happen, he would not be left on his own. At least Jackson hoped not. Creeping his way down the hallway, one after another and so forth. At last, Jackson walked out of a fire-exit into the dead cold of the night.
Rain was pouring down for what seemed like hours. Soaking him from head to toe. Rain drops dripped down his hair, the chilling air numbing his skin. His hands and feet were freezing, the numbing coldness spreading up his body with the grace of an angel of death. Slow in its wake yet lethal to any human.
There was an unforgiving storm coming, Jackson could feel it in his guts.

The beta did his best to follow after Peter, though, lost him deep within the dark woods. A bouquet of scents clouding his senses, the weather making it rather impossible to stay on track. The young beta was having a difficult time keeping up with the alpha’s scent thereby decided to head towards the bungalow Danny resided at instead. Jackson maneuvered away from the forest, with refound interest.

After Jackson had approached the Argent house, he walked up the front stairs in the hopes of Danny being the one to greet him at the door. Raising his fist a bit hesitantly, after a moment’s pause Jax knocked on the hardwood door. Despite having seen his friend earlier he still found himself getting worked up a little. The front door opened showing a somewhat surprised Danny.
“Hey, Jax,” Danny greeted with a crooked smile.
“Can I come in?” Jackson asked out of politeness.

Whilst discussing matters with Danny, who all of a sudden knew a lot more about Jackson and his past than he should, their somewhat uncomfortable conversing had been interrupted by a piercing howl. The sound reverberated off the walls within the house. A chill ran down the beta’s spine.
During their conversation or rather accusations, Danny had vaguely dropped a crucial piece of information, as if it carried no weight or had no worth to be told rather immediately instead of mid-conversation. Information that would involve Peter giving a signal. One meant for the pack and more importantly, for Derek. Then his pretentions best friend had picked up his chatter, continuing where he had left off. Jackson had reluctantly let it slip aside for the time being, taking the hour into consideration there had been no signal yet and therefore Jackson started engaging in the conversation yet again.

Suddenly his ears started ringing, Jax clasped his hands tightly over his ears against the extremely blatant noise. Jackson surveyed his surroundings, even though they were sitting in the dark he could make out the silhouettes of guardsmen running all over the area. Crawling the grounds like ants and fleas. Eying Danny, Jackson came to the dreaded understanding the storm he had feared hours ago had finally hit, ravaging amidst the mountains. Trees were being bend over, the icy wind too forceful. Rain made it impossible to see straight ahead. Both friends had run towards the floor to ceiling windows, staring astonished ahead of them. Danny’s heartbeat was thundering in Jackson’s eardrums. The salty smell of his perspiration filling his nostrils.

“Get a weapon and go upstairs.” Jackson averted his eyes to his friend, his tone full of authority.   
 “What? No!” Danny took a step closer, the urge to argue clearly shown in his eyes. Jackson took a step forward as well, facing him dead on.
“I said,” Jackson’s eyes scrutinized Danny’s, “get a weapon and go hide upstairs!” He gritted out through clenched teeth, chest heaving. His eyes never once leaving Danny’s.
“Screw you Jackson, you don’t dictate what I do!” Danny took a step back shaking his head in amazed disbelief.
Jackson could not restrain himself from turning into his beta form and forcing Danny into submission. His canines elongated, eyes flaring azure, hands morphing into claws.
“Go!” He hissed as he took another step closer toward Danny, inching so close he could feel his friend’s breath against his own lips. Danny’s heart was pounding, eyes stricken with fear. Then a single shot rocketed through the air so painfully loud it turned everything into slow motion. Jackson looked out of the window perplexed, to see right at that moment every single projector and all of the lights going ablaze. A hailstorm breaking out above the area. Jackson’s eyes homed in, out of their own accord, on the violently trembling figure on the ground. The shriek that had escaped the body had been as if Jackson was stricken by lightning. The attacker’s head swept to the side and after a moment of pause it suddenly took off in a hurry toward the surrounding forest.
Everything within Jackson screamed, every muscle, every cell, every molecule. Jackson was bolting out the door, his mind too slow to keep up with his body, with his instincts. The screams that tore out of his Alpha’s body were like sizzling flames to his skin, like hot lava spreading itself to his core.     

Derek!”  He was screaming his lungs out, willing his legs to move fucking faster. After what felt like eons Jackson fell down on his knees to a halt next to Derek’s convulsing body. The smell of blood hit him like a high speed train. All he could smell was blood, pain and more blood. With trembling hands Jax tried to grasp Derek’s arm, refraining him from touching the gaping hole on his body. There was just so much blood and gooey mush of what used to be parts of Derek’s body. Bile was rising in the back of Jackson’s throat. The beta had hunched himself over the Alpha’s body trying to protect it from the raging weather. His mind was reeling about what the fuck he should do.

Think! Think! THINK! An endless mantra in his head.


Jackson’s entire demeanor tensed as he felt someone nearing them, looking up he saw Isaac accompanied by Stiles, sprinting towards them.
Instinctively, Jackson bared his teeth, growling fiercely at them. In the back of his mind he knew Isaac was pack and Stiles, well, something else. Regardless, his wolf would not back down. His Alpha was hurting, hell, probably dying. He would not let anyone get any nearer to him.

“Oh my god! What.the.FUCK!” Stiles skidded to a halt beside them, ignoring Jackson’s scolding growls.
“Jesus! Fuck!” Stiles exclaimed, his hands clutching at his own hair desperately, looking horrified, terrified and nauseous all at once.

“We need a doctor! We need to get him a fucking doctor!” Stiles was rambling, pushing at Jackson.
“Need a whole frikkin hospital!”
Looking up at Isaac, Stiles commanded, “Get Scott!! NOW!”
Isaac bolted away, not needing to be told twice.
Taking his jumper off Stiles threw it across Derek’s upper body then started pacing back and forth.
“This is a dream. I’m going to wake up any moment. Just a dream,.. yeah.. oh my god, I’m going to throw up!” Stiles was panicking, looking like he was about to lose his mind. His entire body shaking vehemently.

“Stiles!” Jackson hissed in a menacing growl. “Stop fucking pinching yourself and help me get him the fuck away from here!” Jackson glared at him.
Stiles stopped dead in his tracks, tears were forming in his eyes, the reality of the situation was finally dawning in on the human. Nodding his head vigorously he rapidly sat himself down on Derek’s other side.
“Wh-where?” He stuttered, searching Jackson’s features for instructions. Although were that not the million dollar question. Where could they go without being caught.
Derek’s body started convulsing heavily, severe spasms bursting through his body, his back arching, head bending back.
“Oh my god! Hold him down!” Stiles beseeched, holding Derek’s shoulders down whilst Jackson stopped Derek from trashing and kicking. Blood gurgling in the back of his throat.
“Are those broken ribs poking out! Oh my god..” Stiles dry heaved.
“Shut up! Shut up!” Jackson yelled unable to think of anything. Derek’s screams in agony were slowly dying, which made them all the more deafening to Jackson’s ears. His own heart was thundering in his ears. Stiles’ was hammering just as rapidly, the scent of pain, fear, blood, death becoming unbearable.
Stiles was swaying back and forth, tears streaming down his pale face. His breath visible in the cold air. Jackson knew the adrenaline surging through them was the only thing keeping either of them warm, though he could not say the same over Derek.


 “Jackson!” He was suddenly shaken back into reality by Isaac’s voice.
“You two lift him to the bungalow!” Scott immediately instructed as he caught up with Isaac, hunching over, resting his hands on his knees whilst he tried to catch his breath. His voice slightly muffled by the raging storm.
“LIFT HIM?!” Stiles shrieked with a look of absolute mortification. Scrambling to get up only to fall back, remembering his task on holding Derek down. Although Jackson feared that soon that would no longer be necessary.
“Are you out of your goddamn mind? His intestines are sprawled all over the ground!” He yelled, his body trembling.
“ENOUGH!” Jackson roared, his eyes vibrating piercing blue.  
“Isaac get beside Stiles and take his place. We’re going to carry him inside, now!” His voice thundered.
Just as Isaac was about to take a step forward a bullet pierced through the air. Jackson threw himself in front of Derek and Stiles, tightly gripping both protectively. Isaac had tackled Scott down, covering his head with his arms.
“Shit!” Stiles yelped, clutching onto Jackson whilst holding Derek down with his other hand.
“I’m good, you good?” Jackson’s eyes shot up looking at Isaac.
“Yeah.. we’re good. Hurry!” He replied nudging Scott, nodding toward the bungalow. “Go, we’ll be right up!”
“No! I’m not leaving you!” Scott gripped painfully onto Isaac’s arm. 
“Scott, if you don’t help Derek I won’t fucking ever forgive you. I need you to help him!” Stiles pleaded, wearing a heartbreaking expression. “He’s dying. You need to go now!” He spoke on a broken whisper.

“You’re not leaving me, we’ll be right there,” Isaac reassured nonetheless, eyeing his mate straight in the eyes.
Another shot pierced through the air, quickly followed by three others. Lowering themselves even more, Jackson roared as he got to his feet.
“Isaac get him inside now!” He commanded in a voice that left no room for a reply.
Giving Scott another push, Isaac scrambled beside Stiles as Jackson took off toward the shooters. Stiles and Isaac looked after him with paralyzing fear.
“What the fuck!” Isaac exclaimed, tone edging on desperation.
“What is he doing? He’s going to get himself killed.” Stiles yelped.
Isaac lifted Derek’s body as carefully as he could into his arms.
“Let’s go!” He nodded to Stiles. Who suddenly got to his feet then slowly took a step back, shaking his head unyielding.
“You go! Tell Scott to save him! Tell him to do fucking everything he can!” Stiles’ trembling voice started getting more and more confident.
“You can tell him yourself, you’re coming with me!” Isaac growled at the ignorant human.
“I’m going to help Jackson! I can’t let him die, he saved Derek and me!”
“I owe him and Derek!” Stiles spoke in a clear voice and then turned on his heels and darted after Jackson. Looking horrified after the reckless human Isaac screamed his name, feeling like he was rooted to the ground. Though at the lack of a heartbeat he jolted back to his senses and bolted for the bungalow. Hoping to god he would not get shot on his way there.

Isaac came bursting through the doors of the Argent residence. The wind slamming the front door shut right behind him.
“In the kitchen,” came Scott’s urgent reply.
Isaac hurried toward said kitchen, already feeling the ache of carrying Derek’s weight on his back. As the beta entered the kitchen he noticed the bar was wiped clean. Kitchen utensils clattering the floor. A bottle of scotch, a pair of scissors and an aid-kit sat on the counter nearest to the bar. Hurriedly, Isaac laid Derek on the table with great care. Then looked up to Scott for further instructions. Scott eyed the body in front of him with a look of absolute mortification. His hands clasping and unclasping as he considered what he could possibly do.
“Scott! His heart has stopped, you need to do something now!” Isaac urged.
“Shit!” Scott gasped as he reached for the scissors, holding it tightly in his grip, he proceeded to cut Derek’s tattered shirt. Once the pieces of clothing were pulled from between Derek’s multiple gaping wounds, Scott started resuscitating the Alpha. Doing everything in his power to save Derek’s life.
“I can’t! I– I can’t!” Scott yelled exasperated after an endless struggle to restart Derek’s heart. Scott’s hands were clasped tightly above Derek’s chest, performing cardiopulmonary resuscitation in an attempt to create artificial circulation, manually pumping whatever blood the Alpha had left through his heart.

“Danny, Lydia!” Scott yelled. “Get your freaking asses down here!” He continued to thrust onto Derek’s chest.
“Isaac, grab that air pump and place it onto his mouth. Keep squeezing evenly, once every two seconds.” Scott instructed in a calm yet severe tone. Lydia and Danny came scurrying down the stairs. Scott was in a frenzy.

“Why didn’t you guys come down earlier?!” He exclaimed. They looked terrified.
“We thought it was one of the Argents or soldiers,” Lydia said frightened, her eyes shining bright with unshed tears..
“Okay, I don’t care. Lydia grab one of the towels and keep a pressure here,” he said, all the while looking at one  side of the wound. He couldn’t exactly use his hands to point to the wound, he was too busy trying to keep Derek alive.
“Danny, you keep pressure on that side.” Now that he had more help, he might be able to pull this off.
“Keep the pressure on him, keep pumping air into him.”

Come on god damn it, don’t die on me Derek.

Scott was getting desperate, he still had no sign of life from Derek.
“DEREK!” He yelled. Slamming his fist hard on the alpha’s chest.
Scott couldn’t let Derek die here, he had to keep him alive for Stiles, he had to keep him alive for Isaac even for Jackson and possibly Peter.
A jolt went through Derek’s body. Scott lay his head on Derek’s chest. A small thrum was awaking in his chest.
“Keep going guys!” he said, hope sparking in his own heart again.

I can do this!

Slowly Derek’s pulse revved to life again. For now.
Scott did his best to clean up the wound as much as he could. A huge bandage was wrapped around the wound.
 “Lydia, Danny, keep pumping the air into his body. We need antibiotics in case of infections, and I don’t have them here. I have to go out.” Isaac volunteered to help him.
Scott left them with other instructions regarding Derek.
They appeared fearful, but the determination in their eyes seemed to win over. This was their duty.
Scott didn’t waste any time. He left as soon as he could.
Lydia’s last words to him were, “stay safe.”




The forest was dark and murky. Various loud blasts were echoing against the trees. The battle seemed to be going sour for the good guys. Allison had gotten Scott and Isaac into a pinch. Derek already was down for the count.
“How can you side with them over us Scott? Even knowing what they are!”
Allison was going crazy, edging the dark side.  She had had some feelings for this boy, but now she viewed him as utter filth. She cocked the crossbow, shooting an arrow through Isaac’s foot.
A howl erupted from Isaac, giving a vengeful smile on Allison’s oddly looking angelic face.
From the periphery of her eye, she saw that Scott was trying to move towards Isaac.

“Stay put Scott! This isn’t a regular crossbow. It’s designed to have multiple rounds. Don’t make me hurt you. I won’t do it, unless I have to.” She then aimed the crossbow on Isaac once more. “Besides, make a move and I won’t hit his foot next time.”
Allison saw that Scott was conflicted. He wanted to help Isaac but also stayed put, because of her threats. The look on his face was utterly pitiful. “You look like you pity the poor thing,” she cooed. “It’s not normal Scott, they should be exterminated. You know that right?” A hopeful glaze flooding her eyes.

He shook his head. “This isn’t right Allison.”
“Human or not, nothing should be exterminated. Just thought you should know that.”
Allison’s complexion turned vile instead of angelic after Scott’s remark.
“Why do you sympathize with THEM?” She spat. Out of anger, another bolt was released from the crossbow. This time piercing Isaac’s calve. He howled again.
“Want me to continue Scott?”
Scott groveled. “Stop Allison, Just stop!” He shouted.
She had enough, she aimed her crossbow at Scott. Isaac was still nailed to the forest floor, unable to help Scott if needed. “You continue to sympathize with them, you might even become one of them. I deem you to be a possible threat that’s best eliminated. So guess what, It’s what I’m going to do.”

The crazy was clearly seeable in Allison’s eyes. She was ready to fire the bolt into Scott’s heart, or head. Both would suffice. Her finger was itching to pull the trigger.
A sudden noise, shocked Allison. Out of the brush, three people arrived.
“That’s enough Allison,” a singsong, stern voice said.
The voice alone shocked her enough to avert her gaze and get goose bumps.
“Mom?” She said, tears in her eyes. 








Victoria walked towards Allison.
“No this can’t be real!” Her daughter exclaimed. “I must be losing my mind.” She opened up her arms, to embrace someone she hadn’t seen in a very long time.
“Drop the weapon, and come give me a hug.” Tears were forming in her eyes as well. She was raised to be tough, to not be emotional. That was how hunter women were brought up. Yet, she couldn’t help herself. Not to mention the fact that Victoria had changed the past years.

Allison didn’t seem to know what to do, so Victoria stepped in and closed her arms around Allison. She hugged her tightly, relishing the moment of holding her daughter again. It was the thing she was deprived of the most. She felt her daughters arm sagging, followed by a thud. Something had hit the ground, the crossbow which had been held by Allison. This was the sign to embrace Allison more dearly.

“Mom, what are you doing?”
Victoria simply coo’d her. “It’s going to be alright baby, you will know soon.”
“But first we have to clean this mess.” She smiled apologetically, “Sorry deary.” Her gaze was aimed at the one man standing behind her daughter. A small nod was all it took. Peter hit her baby girl right on the head, causing her black out. Victoria laid her gently on the moldy, leafy forest floor.
“She’ll be safe here for now,” she said.  “Cora, be a sweetheart and take the bolts out of poor Isaac here.”
Peter was giving her pointed stares. “What?” Her question directed at him. She placed her hands on her hips while saying it. “Just don’t forget who’s the boss here.” She smiled at him, with a pinch of venom, “Yes Alpha, I know.”

Victoria had gotten Peter’s permission to lead them, for as long as decided it was for the best.

I know how the hunters work and I know these grounds well. Of course I’m fit to lead this, she snorted.

“Cora dear, remove them.” She watched Cora remove the bolts from Isaac, who howled.
“Now, if we want poor Isaac to be moving, we should give him some aid and then you can support him all the way, can’t you Cora?” Her gaze was set upon Cora, forcing a nod from her. “Good.”
She smiled, “Shall we?” Isaac was still down on the ground, Scott holding him. Cora, Peter and Victoria placed their hands onto poor Isaac, relieving him of pain and speeding his healing process. In return they took some physical pain, which would heal fast enough being werewolves and all.

“Enough”, Peter said. “We’re not his pack mates, it should’ve been Derek’s job.” Cora’s face darkened at the mention of Derek’s name.
Victoria snapped her fingers, “Let’s go, let’s go. We don’t have all day!”
She already started walking. The sound of rustling behind her, she could tell Isaac was being hoisted and help up by Cora. That’s all the attention she paid. The task in front of her was more important.

Apparently Peter caught up with her and walked beside her. “Wouldn’t want to let a woman lead, would you?” she asked him. In reply she got a snort from Peter, who said nothing.
The smell of blood was getting thicker. “A lot of casualties on this fine night.”
Her eyes glowing yellow in the darkness. She had missed the outdoors a lot. The smell of the tree’s, the leaves. The fresh air blowing. She hadn’t had a taste of that in quite some time.
“I did miss this,” she mumbled. “Let’s hope it lasts, for my sake and for Allison’s.”
Peter was picking up the pace. Victoria glanced behind her.
“You doing okay, Cora dear and you Scott?” Cora nodded. Scott seemed to have more trouble.
“How do you know my name?” he asked Victoria.
“As a mother, you have to keep a tab on any boy trying to chase their daughter. How did you end up with her in the woods anyway?”
Scott huffed, carrying Isaac seemed to be hard.

Well, that was expected of a human.

“Talk,” she ordered.

Scott explained to her what happened, “Isaac came in with a very badly hurt Derek. We had to resuscitate him. The others came in soon after. After a few minutes he seemed to stabilize but was still badly hurt. I needed more antibiotics, but we were out. Nobody else knew how it looked like or where to get it. So I had to leave Derek behind, and went looking for the antibiotics which had to be in a medical kit. Isaac served as my bodyguard. I left Danny and Lydia, with Derek, with clear instructions how to keep pressures on his wounds. We left shortly after. But Allison found us soon after we left the house and led us here.”

“He wasn’t a very good bodyguard then,” Victoria replied. She had the gist of it and they were rushing back towards the Argents cabin. It was in sight soon, that much she knew. After a few more minutes the cabin’s exterior came into their periphery. Their pace picking up even faster. Cora was going faster as well, carrying Isaac by herself now. She was angsty and nervous.

“It’s going to be all right dear.” They pretty much crashed into the house. Startling everyone.
“Well that’s how we make an entrance,” Victoria said.



Stiles followed after Jackson even though the werewolf was way faster than he was. Stiles watched as Jackson stood in front of a sniper, the sound of another bullet piercing through the air as Jackson got shot in the knee. Stiles scrambled towards him, his heart thundering in his eardrums. He could not watch another innocent person die. He already had Erica’s blood on his hands he could not live with himself if he did not stop the sniper from killing Jackson.
“HEY!” He screamed to create momentarily distraction. At Stiles’ noise the sniper turned his attention on Stiles allowing Jackson, who had fallen to the ground, take advantage of the situation. Getting up, his entire weight on his good leg, he hurled himself at the soldier and ripped the gun from his grasp. Cocking him on the head with his own weapon.

“You’re not the only one who can handle a fucking gun,” he hissed at the unconscious soldier.
Stiles hurried to support Jackson and get the both of them back to the bungalow. Draping Jackson’s arm over his shoulder he walked them back. Their walk back went by in complete silence, Jackson in too much pain to talk, and frankly, Stiles was too pissed to say a word. Part of him felt like it had betrayed the stupid Alpha by letting him alone. Though what was he supposed to do? Let Jackson get himself killed while playing the hero? No, Stiles had not been able to do that. He knew he could not be of much help to Scott, what with knowing close to nothing about performing surgery. But this, this was something he could do. Help Jackson getting back to some sort of safety.

Entering the house Stiles immediately let go of Jackson at the sight before him. Lydia and Danny were frantically trying to keep Derek alive, both of them looking desperate. And Scott, was nowhere to be seen. Stiles dashed towards them, ignoring Jackson’s cussing as he fell to the ground with a loud thud.
“Where’s Scott?” Stiles asked in a choked voice. His hands shoving Lydia’s away and taking her side over.
“Where is Scott?!” He shouted enraged at them. Lydia eyed him horrified.
“He went to get antibiotics,” Danny explained distressed, his features sullen.

Stiles turned his full attention back on Derek’s motionless form, his usual olive skin had never looked this pale. His lips were a deep shade of purple-ish blue.
It seemed like hours had passed and yet Stiles was still doing everything within his power to keep Derek alive. An absolute sense of fear had crept around his heart, tightening its iron hold with every passing second. Cold sweat was running down Stiles’ forehead, traveling down his neck and back. At some point Stiles became aware of the sense of coldness, his hands seemed to be freezing. Gazing down at his moving hands, not once had they stopped pumping Derek’s heart, he noticed the blood they were covered in.

Come on, Derek. Open your eyes. Show me that arrogant all-knowing smile.

“Stiles!” Someone’s voice distantly broke through the fog that had crept over his mind.
“Stiles!” Lydia’s broken voice ever so gently shook him out of whatever state he was captured in. Stiles cocked his head to the side as he eyed her, she sat in front of him, unmoving. Tears were rolling down her pale cheeks.
“Honey,.. he is— gone,” she spoke in a barely audible whisper. Looking from her back to Derek, Stiles shook his head vehemently. She was wrong. Derek had a pulse.. Stiles could..

I can feel it, right? His mind was racing, yet everything seemed to go slower than ever before.

“I can..” Stiles started in a gruff voice, “…can feel it!” He swallowed the lump in his throat. Willing them to understand, be patient. Surely, he had no medical degree or anything but he was trying. Doing everything he could!
His hands’ movements turned frantic, making jerky motions.  

“Stiles, you tried. We did our best but we were too late..” Danny tried to console.
“Don’t!” Stiles hissed, tears clouding his vision.
“Stiles, please..” Danny pleaded, an unreadable look in his eyes. Though Stiles could not care less to fathom what the hell it was Danny wanted from him. They had failed. Stiles had failed. His mate was dead because of him. Once again he had someone’s blood on his hands. Derek had been right not to trust him, putting his trust in Stiles.. it had.. had him killed. He could not explain how that realisation broke his heart. It felt like he had lost a huge part of himself, one he never knew he missed up until now. His breath started to hitch as tears streamed down his cheeks.
“Get out!” Stiles commanded in a throaty voice.
“Stiles,” Jackson spoke as he placed his hand over Stiles’, ending their movements.
“I said get out! All of you, get out!” Stiles gritted out through clenched teeth. Jerking his hands away from Jackson’s.

Once the others had left Stiles grabbed Derek’s hand, holding onto it tightly. Lowering himself he laid down beside Derek. As he lay there in a pool of Derek’s blood everything around him faded away. The sound of gunshots, the wailing alarms and all the other noises, it all appeared so far away. Eventually it seemed like Stiles’ mind had tuned them all out. Hot tears still rolling down his cheeks. Stiles clasped his hand tightly around Derek’s arm while he kept a solid hold on his hand. He wished he could have done more. Could have seen the signs earlier, when Scott had tried to talk to him about it. God he had been such an idiot! If only he had trusted his best friend, had listened to his gut when he had seen the fear in Derek’s eyes that first time.

He would give anything to have Derek back. Because for the first time since his old man had passed, he had opened up his heart to someone. Had allowed himself to hope for more than his current life. The universe had handed him a mate out of all the possibilities. A mate who were to love him for the rest of his life, despite the person Stiles was. Even if Stiles could be impossible, annoying, loud, overly talkative and too curious for his own good at times.

Feeling desperate and like his world was crumbling down, Stiles laced his fingers through Derek’s cold ones. Feeling gut wrenched, he closed his eyes. Willing for this night to be a nightmare and to wake up with Derek still alive. Slowly, Stiles felt the warmth of sleep and promise of dreams envelop him. Nestling himself closer against Derek’s form, he breathed in the scent of fresh rain, earth, woods, warmth.. God was it getting hot. Perhaps the sun was shining? This surely felt like a dream. As if to confirm his thoughts Stiles felt movement, the arm he was holding onto moved and the fingers he had laced his own with, held Stiles’. Opening his eyes, Stiles’ gaze fell onto Derek’s radiant hazel green eyes. Stiles felt the corners of his lips pull up into a soft smile. Derek was alive in this dream, the pool of blood nowhere to be seen. Derek’s shirt was tattered, though, he did not have a single scratch on that perfect olive-coloured skin of his.

“Hey,” Derek gave him a lopsided smile.
“Hey,” Stiles smiled back, giving Derek’s hand a gentle squeeze.
“You got me out,” Derek spoke softly, his smile still lingering on his features.
Stiles’ heart broke at that, suddenly unable to swallow the lump in his throat. The warmth he had felt before completely gone. His eyes tearing up yet again.
“Stiles?” The look on Derek’s face turned into confusion.
Shaking his head, “I’m sorry Derek! God I am so sorry!” Stiles broke out into a sob.
“It’s all my fault!” Stiles whole-heartedly sobbed.
Derek did the one thing Stiles had been fearing this entire dream, letting go of Stiles’ hand. He probably felt betrayed or repulsed by Stiles. Who wouldn’t. However, before Stiles’ mind could comprehend Derek had placed his hand against his cheek, gently wiping his tears away.
“Shhhh. Stiles, it’s okay,” Derek replied.
Stiles whimpered at that because it was everything but okay! “No, Derek! It’s not!” Stiles tightened his hand around Derek’s arm, afraid he might be gone any moment now.
“You’re dead because of me..” Stiles finally admitted out loud, averting his eyes away from Derek’s. Too terrified and ashamed to dare looking at the Alpha any longer.
“Dead?” Derek asked, an eye brow raised.
“Please Derek. Don’t leave yet,” Stiles looked up, “can I have this dream a little bit longer, please?” Stiles begged.
Derek’s facial expression suddenly changed from the tender, yet confused look to one of slight annoyance.
“Stiles,” Derek squinted his eyes at the slighter, “I’m not dead.”
“Well, yeah in my dream you’re not.. I guess..” Stiles agreed.
Derek huffed as he let go of Stiles’ cheek and sat up. “No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are!” Stiles argued back. Derek just glared back at him.
“God! This was a nice dream you know! Only you can be moody in a dream!” Stiles exclaimed.
Derek let go of Stiles all together and got off the dining table they had been laying on.
“Hey! Where you going! Derek, please come back!” Stiles’ voice suddenly turned desperate as he rapidly followed after Derek, afraid he might leave nonetheless. Suddenly Derek slapped him on the back of his head.
“Ouch!” Stiles flailed whole bodily as he massaged his aching skull. “What the hell was that for?” He pouted.
Derek grinned devilishly at him, “proving a point.”
“What point? That you’re an ass even if it’s my dream?” Stiles threw his hands up in the air, for theatrical effect.
Pinching the bridge of his nose Derek sighed heavily before eying him, “No, you idiot! Proving I’m alive and if this was a dream your head wouldn’t have hurt!” Derek explained.
Stiles tripped over his own feet, before he knew what he was doing Stiles’ hand had grasped tightly around Derek’s arm, pulling Derek close. Or rather, falling forward, considering Derek’s body had not moved an inch. His lips met Derek’s surprisingly soft ones and even though the kiss was entirely one-sided and chaste, Stiles was left breathless by the end of it. A flush running from his cheek all the way down to his neck. As Stiles took a sloppy step back he noticed Derek’s expression being completely blank. Void of any and all emotion.

“Sorry,” he whispered embarrassed, feeling his cheeks getting redder. He felt like an idiot, having made a complete fool of himself. Though he would be lying if he didn’t say how warm and sweet Derek’s lips had felt against his own. Had even felt right.
Derek cleared his throat giving a curt nod then turning his back on Stiles as he strode towards the refrigerator.

“So… I must have saved your life!” Stiles concluded feeling entirely smug as he sat across from Derek at the dining table, watching Derek down another glass of milk. Derek just snorted then took a look around the kitchen. If Stiles did not know any better he would say Derek was avoiding his gaze.
“Magic! I’m frikkin magic! That’s how I single-handedly saved your brooding wolfy ass!” Stiles grinned.
“Don’t flatter yourself.” Derek shook his head as he rolled his eyes, though Stiles definitely noticed the slight upwards twitch of the corners to Derek’s kissable mouth.
“Ye-aah, I deserve all the flattery in the world!” Stiles retorted as he kicked back lazily.
Ignoring Stiles’ rightful acclaims, Derek seemed to be listening for something which caught his immediate full attention.    
“The others are in the house,” Derek noted, gazing back at Stiles. Who in return gave a callous shrug.
Derek seemed to pick up on the sudden change within Stiles’ range of emotion as the bubbly lightness turned into distraught.
“What?” Derek inquired in a curious voice.
“Nothing.” Stiles replied curt, his tone leaving no room for further discussion. Not that it would refrain Derek from it.
“Stiles, talk.” Derek regarded him with sincerity.
“I told them to leave, alright? Now drop it.” Stiles sat up straight, fiddling with the sleeve of his shirt. Which reminded him of Derek’s. “We should get you some clothes, ones that aren’t torn. You can borrow mine.” Stiles quickly got up to his feet, motioning for Derek to do the same. Derek eyed him warily but much to his relief he made no further comment. Stiles led them to his room, hoping the others would at least have had the decency to retreat back to their own rooms. His heart was pounding in his chest as he reached for the handle, holding his breath while he opened the door. Once he laid eyes on the empty room he was finally able to breathe normally. Stiles walked towards his luggage and noted Derek closing the door behind him, though he stayed put.
“You okay?” Derek finally broke the tense silence while Stiles was sifting through his clothes. Stiles nodded and got back to his feet, approaching Derek.
“Here this one should fit you alright,” he spoke softly as he held out the green/black plaid shirt to the Alpha. Derek eyed him skeptically then pulled his shirt off, which took Stiles’ breath away. Because holy mother of abs! Stiles felt mesmerized, inclined to reach out and just check if they were for real. Derek most definitely noticed Stiles’ gaping but took the plaid from him nonetheless. He had this look in his eyes, almost as if he was longing for something but Stiles was not entirely sure.
“You have healed completely,” Stiles finally spoke, once he had found his vocals. Stiles started buttoning up Derek’s shirt, though, only when he became aware of Derek’s rigid posture did his brain catch up with what his hands were doing.
“Sorry, I— sorry,” Stiles made a weird motion with his hands and decided to leave it just hanging in the air.

“Why were you upset?” Derek asked out of the blue, buttoning his shirt up in a too fast of a movement.
That took Stiles aback, making him at a loss for words. “They were supposed to..” Stiles started as he quickly put as much as possible distance between them. Sitting on his bed somewhat numbly, drawing his legs up to his chest..
“To keep you alive. They failed. I failed.” Stiles finally looked up to see Derek standing right in front of him.
“Stiles,” Derek spoke his name in the most softest of tones ever, it almost felt surreal coming from Derek, from an Alpha. “It wasn’t your fault. You healed me,” Derek nudged his leg, trying to catch Stiles’ gaze, offering him a reassuring smile.
“How? How did I heal you Derek? Because in case you haven’t noticed none of this makes sense! What if I hadn’t done what I did? Heck, I don’t even know what I did!” Stiles exclaimed, on verge of tears. His heart rate accelerating. The entire night had been a goddamn emotional rollercoaster. This felt like he was at war, acting like a soldier. People getting shot and murdered, carrying wounded fellows across the area, trying to save someone’s life with nothing but a frikkin aid-kit. It was insane.
Derek got up and sat beside him, slowly reaching out and putting an arm across Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles swallowed harshly, unsure of what was happening, but deep down he craved for Derek to hold him. Somehow, he felt unexplainably safe with Derek around. Surely, he got what he wished for as he felt Derek pulling him against his side, enveloping him in his arms securely.

“I don’t know,” Derek quietly replied at last.

A hesitant knock then reverberated off the door, causing Stiles to jump in his tracks. Eyes wide with alert.
“It’s oke, come in,” Derek spoke to the intruder. Stiles turned to look at Derek, about asking him who he was talking to and why, when Jackson’ silhouette appeared in the doorway entering their room.
“Derek!” Jackson gasped astound, eyes wide from shock. Derek gave his beta a curt nod.
“You’re alive! How?” Jackson implored as he barged further into the room.  
“We heard you downstairs but assumed you probably would want some time alone,” Lydia quickly explained then grasped Jackson at his arm and pulled him a couple of steps back. Stiles, who was still too enraged, did not bother answering his friends nor pretending like everything was well all of a sudden. His mind kept flashing back to the prior occurrings. Derek lying lifeless in a pool of his own blood, his skin marred beyond repair. Intestines sprayed across the dirt he had fallen to. The smell had been absolutely the worst. It had smelled like death. If all that was not enough the weather had seemed to be working against them in every thinkable way.

The Alpha squeezed his hand gently, wavering Stiles out of his horrid memories. Stiles became aware of the wetness on his cheeks, trailing a path down his throat. His emotions were all over the place and Stiles needed to physically remind himself that, yes, Derek was alive and well. Here, with him. With his arms embracing Stiles. Stiles repositioned himself, placing his legs on either side of Derek then just buried his nose in the crook of Derek’s neck. Breathing in the scent of him, feeling his rapid pulse against his lips. 

I can feel it! Stiles smiled to himself, his hands clutching onto Derek’s shirt. Derek who had gone rigid underneath him finally eased, shoulders sagging when he came to the understanding of what Stiles was doing. The Alpha asked the others to leave and wait in the living room, giving them some time and privacy to pull themselves together.


Chapter Text

Derek had asked for privacy. As soon as they were left alone, Stiles had coddled him. Disbelief still clouded his mind, I still cannot wrap my mind  around the idea, that I brought him to life somehow.
Soon he had a snoring counterpart lying next to him. Stiles stared at Derek’s angelic sleeping face. “How can a man that gorgeous, be such a pain in the ass,”  he mumbled. His index finger stroked softly against Derek’s cheek. A huge sigh escaped him.

Will this work ? I mean how can this even work? I know for certain that I always felt attracted to Lydia, I’ve never had these kind of feelings for Scott or Danny.

The recent events made him very confused. This wouldn’t be the case if he was still working in his office, bored but without all this supernatural drama.

How did I roll into this huge mess? Ow right..Lydia. She was the one who came up with this idea after all.

Stiles lay next to Derek for a while, who was still snoring soundly. His bladder was being an annoying pest. Getting up, was not an option right now. He wanted to be right here. Yet he did have to get up, else he would be urinating all over himself and Derek. Possibly a fun fetish, but that was an option for later. Another sigh escaped his body. He swung his legs off the bed, placing his feet on the ground. With a creak of his bed, he got up. As he walked to the door, a glance went towards Derek.

He seems so peaceful. Everything in this room seems peaceful, but there is a small war going outside.

Reality sucked. Stepping through the doorway, he closed the door slowly behind him, as to not awake Derek. He walked downstairs and saw Peter and Victoria scanning the perimeter intently. Isaac, Jackson, Danny and Scott were oddly playing poker while Lydia was reading a book. Stiles tried to walk as covertly as possibly, to not draw any attention and get in the bathroom as quickly as possible. The guys didn’t seem to notice, or at least pretended not to. The two at the windows simply didn’t seem to care. Lydia was the one he was the most afraid of. He made it to the bathroom, almost when Lydia appeared out of nowhere, stepping into the bathroom with him and closing the door.

“Lydia, what do you think you’re doing! I really have to pee, get out!”
Her response was to lock the door. “Then go ahead?” She said impatiently. Stiles paced around, deciding to go or not. It didn’t seem Lydia was going to leave. He turned his back to Lydia, who did the same.

“I’m not a peeping tom,” she said to him. “You don’t have much to offer me, or do you Stiles?” Lydia teased him and even glanced back. Stiles coughed.
“Shut up Lydia, otherwise I can’t pee.”
A giggle escaped her. Stiles sighed and a slow splashing sound was heard, coming from the toilet. Stiles whisked, dried and flushed. Turned around to Lydia and said, “What is it?”

She was silent. “WHAT?! Speak up!” Stiles practically yelled.
“Don’t even think I will speak to you if you haven’t washed your hands,” she murmured. 
“Oh for fuck sake, Lydia!” Stiles dramatically washed his hands. Taking the time to lather up his hands, rinse and dry.
“All better now Princess?” Lydia send him a glare. “Window, smells like man pee in here.”

Stiles did as she said, though he was shaking his head while doing it. “You know, you could’ve not followed me in here, to smell my man pee, hear the sound of me, urinating and all that!”

She frowned, but then her face softened. “Look Stiles, things have been weird and I was just..” she paused. “Well, I’m concerned. A lot has happened and now it seems that you have fallen for hotty Derek…and honestly..I don’t know anymore.” She sat down on the side of the bathtub, looking intently at Stiles. “Partly I feel to blame, because I’m the reason we’re here. I planned this trip and I also was the one who felt we needed to do something as a group. You seemed so…apathic back home.”

Stiles blinked back some tears. “It’s not your fault Lydia.” He walked over to her and gave her a big hug. “This trip has reminded me of what really matters. My senses were dulled back home, but now they’re fully operational.” He gave her a kiss on the forehead. “I have you to thank for that.”

Lydia got emotional. “This isn’t why I was here though,” she sobbed. “Yet here I am crying, because of you. My mascara is running, thank you very much.”
This got a chuckle out of both of them. Stiles handed her a towel and she wiped her tears.
“So what did you want to talk to me about?”
A sigh escaped Lydia, “Why did you never tell me you were gay? Both you and Scott?”
She got up and started fixing her make-up. “Ow gross! You guys didn’t do it together, did you? No wonder you were so chummy!”
Stiles’ face twisted in horror. He had so not expected this. “Lydia No! Just no!”
“It’s not like that…” he said, his voice softening, “first off I would never do something of the sorts with Scott…in fact I haven’t done anything like that..with anyone.”   

Lydia quirks her eyebrow, “virgin?”
Stiles laughed, “No..not that but..I’m a virgin with males, I suppose?”
“Anyway! It’s not a sex thing,” he exclaimed.

“It just happened..” Stiles sighed. “I didn’t plan for any of this to happen, neither did Scott.”
“We don’t know really.. you should ask any of the werewolves for the specifics..”
He traced his finger along the bathtubs side. “All I know is, is that I’m in love or well maybe not love but for a huge part I’m drawn to him. I’m the moon and he is the earth, so to speak.”

“Stop talking nerd,” Lydia simply replied.
Being well aware that she knew exactly what he was talking about, her hint arrived.
“Sorry, but that’s how I feel Lydia.”
Her lips were pursed. “Just be sure this won’t break you.”
“I just got you back,” she whispered, voice thick with emotion.
Standing up, her face straightened. “I, no— we just want you to be happy Stiles— Remember that.”
The door was unlocked and Lydia stepped out like nothing happened.

Gratefully, Stiles closed the door again and paused, taking a moment for himself.
Glad that is over with, his thoughts overflowing, as well as his emotions.
His stomach was churning with emotions, not knowing how to express them. Panic crept up on him.
Can this actually work? Or am I fooling myself?
Stiles’ foot started tapping, trying to conduit some of the nervous energy.  Even Lydia felt the need to ask me if I was certain, am I truly certain?
Doubt was seeping into his mind. But what was his heart telling him? Stiles went deep down, into the center of his emotions, namely his heart.
What do I truly feel? As he had told Lydia, one thing was certain. He was completely drawn to Derek, since the moment they had laid eyes on each other. Even Derek could not deny that. Stiles also had that feeling of having the need to protect Derek, even though Derek was probably more capable of protecting himself than he could.

What else am I certain of?
It was so hard to think while being clouded with doubt and rationality.
Why would I suddenly have feelings for a man, A MAN?!
Don’t I like Lydia? Like I always have?
Shouldn’t I have known if I was gay?

He remembered what he thought about Derek before.
For the first time since my old man had passed, I have opened up my heart to someone. I allowed myself to hope for more than my current life. The universe has handed me a mate out of all the possibilities. A mate who shall to love me for the rest of his life, despite the person Stiles was.

Stiles pressed his hands against his forehead, “Why did Lydia cause so much turmoil in me?” He wondered out loud. 
Is this how it feels to have acute stress syndrome? Focus!
Stiles centred himself, focussing on the facts that he knows to be true.
“Derek and I share a bond, and I have the need to protect him,” he spoke out loud.
What else Stiles?
“I designed the bracelets that kept them trapped here, I at least owe it to Derek to make this...whatever it is work.”
A sudden realization came after uttering his last sentence. “I owe it to Derek to try.”
He will love me, for the rest of my life, despite who I am. How can I not cherish this? How can I not be certain that this is the real thing? It has to be. I sure as hell haven’t felt anything like this before

This calmed his nerves, and steeled his resolve.
“I will make this work. For Derek. And me. I owe it to myself as well, no more wallowing in despair over my parents’ death. This is MY time,” he said out loud.
Stiles got up, with his knees still being wobbly.
He twisted the faucet cap and splashed his face with cold water. After drying his face, he double checked his hair. Put on a smile and walked out into the room.

First, he decided, to check up on how it was going outside.
“Peter, Victoria,” he said with a respectful nod.
 Peter simply glanced at him, while Victoria oddly gave him a warm smile.
“Hello Stiles,” her voice a lot less crisp then last time.
“You seem healthy again, as is Derek I heard?”
She has a warm, earthy ring to her voice
“That is correct,” he replied.
“Listen Stiles,” she said, “can you tell me more about Allison?”
“How has she been?”
She had caught Stiles with her question.
First Lydia, now Victoria, am I that bad of a judge?They keep phasing me.
He recomposed himself and replied, “Scott is a better judge of that, he had a crush on her.”
Victoria smirked. “Which is why I cannot trust his view, it was and is clouded.”
“You’ve seen her plentiful and are not as biased.”
Stiles scraped his throat.
“Are you sure I can give the full truth, without clawing my eyes out?”
Victoria remained silent.
“Is that a yes?” Stiles insisted.
“I give you my word,” she promised calmly.

“When I first met her, she seemed very cool. How could I not like her? Especially because Scott over there, seemed to have a crush on her.”
He glanced at Scott and returned his stare to Victoria. Stiles continued, “she took us on a private tour and everything, explaining how everything was good here. She introduced us to her aunt and dad. Now that I think about it, she never mentioned her mother. Odd that she never mentioned it...” Stiles said trailing off.
“Anyway,” he tapped his chin, “as I said, she seemed cool at first, but slowly and gradually I noticed other things about her. She seemed to darken in the circus tents, especially when Derek had to give his performance. We leered at him like a piece of meat, while she seemed to freeze, cooling to the temperature of an ice cube.” He cast his eyes down. “That’s when I first noticed something wasn’t right with her.”
Stiles pondered on what to tell next. “Then there was that midnight incident with Chris, after Scott followed her towards what we now know is the training area. Scott and I went back and scouted the area. I climbed on a dumpster and saw knives, guns, bows and all other kinds of weapons. Then I was sure something was going on that we didn’t know.”
“And saw her in the woods. No need for me to explain that.”
“That’s as much as I can tell.”

Victoria looked at him approvingly.
“Thank you, I feared as much. Kate has poisoned her mind plenty. That fool of a husband hasn’t seen it either.”
Victoria pinched the bridge of her nose.
“They both don’t know about project Red Storm Rising.”
This got Peter’s attention. “No more, Victoria. Now is not the time.”

“But..” she started.
“No! You and Cora will get the time to tell your story, to the people who it matters the most to, but now we have to stay vigilant. I need you to stay vigilant.” He spoke with an authority only an alpha could possess. Victoria understood Peter and they continued watching the perimeter.
“Stiles, I think it’s best if you do not distract us for now,” Peter said dismissively.

I can take the hint, Stiles thought.
Stiles turned, seeing Cora had joined the boys at the poker table. She was doing well. Loud jeers came from the table.
“YOU’RE cheating!” Scott yelled at Cora.
Stiles snickered, they seemed so cheerful, given the circumstances.
“I can smell your sweat and hear your heartbeat...making it quite easy to tell if you have good cards or not,” he heard Cora say. “Werewolves can do that!”
Scott seemed perplexed, which made Stiles laugh once more.
“Can you believe that?” Scott had said, and looked to Stiles for affirmation, who simply shrugged.
Scott then looked at Isaac. “Is this true?”
Someone’s face reddened. “Well...yes, she isn’t lying.”

Stiles had to hold his hand to his mouth, to stop the chuckles from escaping. This whole ordeal seems so surreal. Outside there is a war raging on, and here they are, playing cards like nothing has happened.
“So you’re telling me you could’ve beat us every game? Why didn’t you?” He heard Scott, ask Isaac.
“That wouldn’t be fair now would it,” Isaac simply replied.
Scott was looking at Isaac incredulously.
“Be nice to the man,” Stiles said. “He’s not cheating and you look at him, wondering why he doesn’t. Maybe he’s just an honest man.”
Stiles winked at Isaac who seemed to warm up to him. “At least one of you two brainsharers understands,” Isaac teased.
Scott and Stiles puffed at the same time.
“I see what you mean,” Danny chimed in. Everyone burst out laughing while Scott and Stiles didn’t get it.

A snarl pierced the room.
It was coming from Peter. Stiles turned around to see what the snarl was for.
He saw Victoria shift as well. He joined them at the window. A soldier with a white flag came walking towards them.
“A white flag? Really?” He mumbled incredulously.
“What would they want?” The atmosphere of the room turned tense. Stiles felt it was his job to defuse the atmosphere.
“Guys, keep playing cards, I think we can handle this,” he said looking at Peter first, then at Victoria. Stiles wanted to open the door. He was pushed aside by Peter. “Let me go first, if they shoot me, I can probably survive, can’t say the same about you now can I? Besides, my nephew would murder me,” Peter was smiling slyly.
Peter stepped outside, followed by Stiles, who was followed by Victoria.
Then they both flanked Stiles. Their heads were constantly shifting a little, taking delicate care of having each and every detail scouted.

Werewolves are truly amazing.

“I’m here in peace,” the random soldier said, while waving his white flag. Stiles was hesitant, but luckily he wasn’t alone.
“What do you want?” Stiles asked, adrenaline kicking in.
 “Kate proposes a truce,” the soldier said, a bead of sweat falling down his cheek. “Guests will be arriving again tomorrow, she proposes a truce, for the civilians’ sake. I mean, you don’t want innocent people to get hurt do you?” The soldier said, with an arrogant tone. Though Stiles could clearly see that the soldier was very nervous.
Why is he so tense? Probably because he is alone against two werewolves and me? Stiles chuckled. Peter eyed him weirdly and he quickly shut up.
“So you think, we will entertain the crowds, so they don’t get pulled into this miniature war?”
Now it was Peters turn to laugh. “Or else?”
The soldier gulped, another drop of sweat falling down the side of his cheek. “Ehh, I don’t know, wasn’t in my instructions.”
Peter was looking like the menacing wolf he was. “Your instructions? Then what are your instructions?”
The soldier was looking scared, “NOW!” He yelled and dashed away. A red dot appeared on Stiles’ back, right where his heart would be. Victoria rapidly pushed him aside and got hit with a bullet instead.
The bullet pierced her spleen, but at least it wasn’t a bullet into her own heart. Luckily it wasn’t  one laced with wolfsbane either. Peter hurriedly shoved Stiles inside while going back to get his pack member, Victoria. The door being slammed shut behind him.
“I guess the deal is off!” Stiles heard Peter growl menacingly.
Peter came back, carrying Victoria and threw the door shut behind him. “None of you humans will be allowed near the windows, for some reason you seem to be the primary target instead of us.” His tone left no room for any discussion.






After Stiles, Peter and Victoria went outside. Cora quit the game and sneaked upstairs. Peter had told her to wait with seeing Derek again.
I can’t wait any longer, he is my brother for fuck sake. Who does uncle Peter think that he is.She eased herself onto the steps, treading with care. The others didn’t quite know she wasn’t allowed up there. Cora wasn’t sure what door to open. Her ears detected a faint snoring from one of the rooms.

Must be Derek.
At first she knocked on the door softly. When she didn’t get a response, Cora opened the door and peered inside. Derek was sound asleep, yet she approached him anyway, and kneeled on the floor. Her hand reached out, and she gently stroked Derek’s arm.
“I finally get to see you, feel you and hear you again,” she whispered around a lump in her throat.
“It’s been so long since I last saw you, big brother.” Tears welled up in her eyes, which she quickly blinked away.
This is not the time for crying.

A soft snore came out of Derek, making her laugh.
Someone seems to be doing well.

“I’d just like to you know, that I’m fine and not leaving anywhere. Uncle Peter is taking good care of me and I will see you soon brother, rest well.”
Cora gently placed a kiss on Derek’s forehead and tiptoed out of the room. She shut the door quietly and walked down the stairs when she heard the sound of gunfire. Cora rushed down the stairs and saw Stiles standing inside, looking pale, and Peter dashing off to grab Victoria. Victoria then came back in with her chest bloodied. Cora rushed over to her, checking up on Victoria.
“I’m fine,” she said waving off Cora. “Wasn’t wolfsbane, so we got lucky.”
“They seem to be targeting the humans instead of us. So keep them safe Cora.”
Cora took up watch together with Peter at the windows, while Scott went to get some bandages to seal up Victoria’s wound. Oddly enough it was closing already.
Peter was talking so quietly, only Victoria, Jax and Isaac could hear him beside her.
“You went to see Derek even after I told you not to,” his voice vibrated from the low frequency.
A second voice chimed in, “Don’t be too hard on her.” It was Victoria’s. Isaac went silent, it was not his pack business after all.
“I told you not to go to Derek, why did you go anyway?”
“Uncle Peter, can you seriously ask me that?”
“I am not your uncle this moment Cora, I am your Pack Alpha,” he nearly snarled.

If one thing was for certain, Uncle Peter is a glutton for power, she thought undeterred.

“I hereby forbid you to go see Derek until further notice.”
“You can’t be serious?” Cora beseeched, mouth falling wide open from shock.
“You can’t do this to me,” she pleaded, tears welling up in her eyes.
“I am your Alpha, and you will listen,” he commanded with the authority of an Alpha in his voice.
“It’s for your own good.” He added as an afterthought.

Cora couldn’t do anything about the Alpha’s orders. She sure as hell knew that she wouldn’t forget this.

“Hey Stiles,” someone said in the room.
“I’ve heard stumbling from upstairs, maybe Derek is awake. Shouldn’t you check?”
It’s that girl named Lydia, Cora thought.
“Thanks Lydia,” and she heard him climbing up the stairs.
No matter how hard she wished it, she couldn’t go up the stairs to see Derek.
Instead tears streaked her cheek. Hands gentle caressed her shoulder. “Stay strong. “

It was Victoria, giving her sweet words. Something she never would have expected when she first met her. But that was a story that had to be remembered another time. Instead she did as she was told and stared out of the window.






The presence of his mate had calmed Derek’s wolf noticeably, considering he felt so at ease, that he had fallen asleep. As he woke up though, the realization of what had transpired between Stiles and him dawned on him. Derek soon felt short of air, regret and anger started to eat at him. Regret because despite what Stiles had done for him, Derek still didn’t fully trust him. He had been fooled before with sweet words of sentimental confessions and undeserving trust. He felt anger, towards himself for letting it escalate so far and so quickly. So far that the young human had felt audacious enough to kiss him, to invade Derek’s personal space. Derek should have shoved him away and stormed off. He should have growled in his face, terrify him to his core to make him realize how big of a mistake he had made. To think he could get so close to the alpha. Crossing all of Derek’s boundaries. Stiles wasn’t pack, therefore there was no excuse to condone his behaviour. The fact that Stiles was his intended mate didn’t justify it either. Derek had quite often punished his pack for even thinking they could ever invade his personal space. The only time Derek had allowed it, it had been his decision to initiate it.

Despite Derek’s endless attempts to forget about what had happened back when he had been a foolish fifteen year old kid, the memories were still fresh as day in his mind. From the day he had set eyes on Kate and fallen head over heels for her, thinking that perhaps she could be his intended mate, to the day he had found out that he had been used. That she had never cared for him the way he had for her. Had never accepted him for who he was. Even resented him for his secret, which he had ever shared with her. All the while, Derek, thinking he was falling in love with her. The kind of love he only ever saw when he looked at his parents. Unconditional.

Kate had both mentally and physically used him. Thinking that he had consented to it himself. However, manipulation wasn’t consent. A year, they had allegedly been together. It had turned out so evil, Kate had taken everything that is barbaric to new extremes. Kate had driven a spike through his heart. Not only had he been betrayed, used, manipulated and had his heart shattered, he had been irrevocably wrecked. The world wasn’t the happy and beautiful place he used to think it was. He and his kind didn’t and never would belong. People weren’t honest, understanding, kindhearted and caring. The love he had seen, dared to hope have himself someday, turned out to be nothing but an illusion. His world had turned into one Derek didn’t want to live in.

Thus Derek pushed and pushed at anyone who dared coming too close. Whether it be emotionally or physically. He’d use force if necessary, become violent even. But he’d never open his heart to anyone, ever again.

Frankly, Derek owed Stiles his life but he sure as hell didn’t owe him his love or trust for that matter. The more Derek thought about everything the more he started feeling outraged. The last time his feelings had taken the better of him, he had allowed hunters to murder his family in cold blood. Images of his time with Kate flashed through his mind.
Derek sneaking out of his house late at nights to meet up with Kate, needing to see her. He remembered it as if it was yesterday, the way his heart was pounding in his chest. How his hands would get clammy just at the sight of her. His nerves buzzing all over the places, whilst on the outside he would try to keep his cool. The entire way from his house to their rendezvous point he thought of all the things he could ask her. Get to know all about her. What he would say that could make him look impressive. What he could say to make her smile. If he should show her some of the things he had recently learned during pack training, whether it would impress her. He craved all those moments with her, wanting nothing but to be with her. Sometimes even skipping family trips, just so he could spend time with her.

The day he had bought his first pack of condoms had been absolute hell. Not only was he freaking out and felt totally ashamed of having to buy it in front of people, judgmental people, who would talk and spread the news like wildfire. It was a small town every small thing would always get blown way out of proportion. He really couldn’t have his family find out about this. If they would find out about Derek buying a whole pack of condoms, they’d first freak out, then want to know why, and last but not least with whom he was planning to have sex with. So Derek had decided to dress completely different, into clothes he never wore. If anyone would see him from afar they wouldn’t be able to recognize him. That’s what Derek kept telling himself, dress differently, walk differently, act different but casual. God he had never wished more to be sixteen and have his freaking drivers license, then he’d have been able to go to another town. Where no one knew him. Sadly, even that wouldn’t work considering another town could also mean another pack’s territory, which would open an entirely different can of worms he did not want to open, ever.

Derek had dressed himself completely in black clothes. Wearing a black trench coat, with the collars turned up, and a cap with the Humansville logo on it, which was the Beacon Hills’ rival basketball team.
Derek walked into the store and after trailing down the aisles for a good fifteen minutes he finally had the nerve to approach the rack with the condoms. Listening in for anyone nearby, he came to stand still in front of it, when he didn’t hear anyone approach. Looking at all the choices in front of him, he almost had a heart attack. What the fuck was even his size? Why did they have condoms in GLOW IN THE DARK?!

I’m not going to lose my dick in the dark, now am I, so what the fuck are those for? He thought to himself. Derek decided to just pick one before his heart plummeted. As he reached out to grab one a thought came to him. What if he was going to have sex more than once? Would Kate even want that?

Not unless you’re shit at it, she won’t, a cynical voice whispered in his mind.

That’s how he had ended up with a pack of them, after the cashier had given him a suspicious look, Derek had tucked them safely under his trench coat and walked towards the store’s exit. His heart still hammering in his chest. Sweat dripping down his forehead, god he wanted nothing more than take that stupid cap off. He was sure his entire head must be soaked by now. When suddenly he bumped into someone and as he looked up to who that might have been, his grip on the pack loosened and it fell out of his sweaty palm. Derek almost shrieked when he saw his father standing in front of him his eyes going from Derek’s, to the pack of condoms on the ground, then back up to Derek.

“DEREK!” His father had yelled.     


The night he had lost his virginity, he had been going out of his mind. Because here he was losing his virginity to a hot older chick, who not only understood him more than anyone ever had but also loved him for who he was. He could confide everything in her without ever being judged or treated any differently.
Partially he had felt like he was the shit, finally losing his virginity and becoming a man. Even though he was tripping with nerves, he still tried to keep his calm and not behave like a total idiot.
His first time had been amazing and absolutely everything he couldn’t ever have expected it to be. Instead of making things awkward at times Kate would simply smile and laugh it off. So Derek had felt like he had somehow out of all the women in the world found his true love, even if that sounded corny as fuck.
Surely, things moved on from there on pretty quickly. His feelings for her had amplified, which caused him to lose control over his wolf a few times, his eyes flashing their golden colour, canines puncturing through his gums but he was always able to reel it in before it got out of hand. Never once had Kate been afraid of him though, even if Derek had been terrified of hurting her, she hadn’t been. Derek had thought that they could’ve been together forever. If only Derek had known on how much of a destructive path he had been.

Derek’s claws were growing and he squeezed them deeply into his flesh, drawing blood. Squeezing his eyes shut and trying to clear his mind from all the memories. He wasn’t the same person anymore, neither was his wolf. He had changed so drastically that even his own memories didn’t seem to be his. If he was being honest with himself, for a second, when that shotgun had been fired and pierced through his body so severely, Derek had felt relieve. Despite the maddening pain a part of him had been glad. Even if he should have felt guilty for leaving his pack behind like that, he had taken some gratification knowing he was dying. Finally truly free.

Fact of the matter was he was still alive, even though he felt dead on the inside, he had survived. Though he simply felt like he had nothing to live for anymore. That notion fed his earlier anger until it turned into rage. The kind of rage that was boiling inside of him. What if Stiles had freed him just to have Kate kill him, launch one final blow, turn Derek’s own mate against him. Because none of his other options seemed to make sense, did they?
Derek clutched at his hair, twisting his fingers until it hurt. Digging his claws further into his tightly balled fists. His heart was jack hammering inside his chest and he clutched at his chest, clawing, and just willing the damn pain away. Clawing until he drew blood. Because it hurt, it hurt that despite all of it part of him was desperate enough to hope that his mate wasn’t the monster Derek ought him to be. That perhaps Stiles never meant for him to get shot and truly was the sole reason behind Derek’s miraculous healing. All these doubts were driving him insane.

Derek shot up right and threw everything within his reach away. Smashed everything he could get his hands on. He tore his claws through Stiles’ suitcase then threw it away altogether. Tore through the beds until his hands and arms were bleeding. A mirror on the wall reflected the crimson shinning of his eyes. He grabbed the nearby bed stand and flung it at the mirror. Only when the sound of a gunfire nearby pierced through the noise did he stop his rampaging fit. With a heaving chest and between loud gasps he listened in for its victim.    

Once it became clear that no one he cared about was shot he walked towards the bathroom. As he opened the door he found Jackson standing in the bathroom with his arms crossed in front of his chest. Derek raised a questioning eyebrow at him as he entered.

“Having a fit?” Jackson implored, squinting his eyes at his alpha daringly. Daring him to deny it.
“Yes,” Derek finally replied, leveling Jackson with a look of his own.
“You done?” Jackson closed the lid of the toilet and sat down.
“Yeah..” Derek replied eyeing the beta warily.
“You smell like blood,” Derek noted and as his eyes scanned the beta’s figure he noticed a gunshot on his leg.
“So? So do you.” Jackson replied dismissively.
“…”  Derek opened his mouth to answer but came up with none.
“Danny helped patch me up when Stiles had shooed us out of the living room while you were kinda… dead,” Jackson elaborated.
Derek nodded and was about to tell Jackson to get the hell out when all of a sudden the teen had flung himself at him, squeezing tightly. Derek tensed, his claws elongating.
“What is it with you people and touching?” Derek growled out, gripping a tight hold on Jackson’s arms and trying to shove him away.
“Just glad you’re not dead,” Jackson replied curtly then let go of him, though Derek saw the sincerity in the beta’s eyes.
“And it’s called ‘hugging’,” Jackson informed Derek while rolling his eyes.
Derek just scowled at him and pointed towards the door.

Before Jackson was out of the bathroom though, Derek called him.
“Who’s Danny?” Derek asked, searching his mind for a face behind the name.
“Old friend,” Jackson replied and left it at that. As the bathroom door was pulled shut Derek turned towards the mirror and found that he looked like a mentally deficient person. His hair was sticking up everywhere and was smudged with blood. His, well Stiles’, shirt was bloodied and he looked like crap. Dark circles marred the skin under his eyes and his beard was in dire need of a good trimming. Derek decided to do something about his facial hair first then take a shower or whatever. After shaving his beard and washing his arms Derek decided to return back to the room and just put a new shirt on. Right now wasn’t the time for taking a shower.

As he approached the room he noticed Stiles standing in the door opening, starring with a dumbfounded look on his face at his room. Upon noticing Derek’s presence he half turned around and eyed him questioningly.
“What did the room do to you? Did it attack you? Personally offend you? And why is my suitcase torn and trashed?” Stiles questioned in one breath and threw his hands up. Though when he noticed the blood on Derek’s shirt concern filled the golden depths of his eyes and his entire posture tensed noticeably.
“Derek are you hurt?” He asked softly as he approached the Alpha ever so carefully.
“No,” Derek replied curtly.
“But, you—”
“It’s fine.” Derek dismissed him in a harsh tone. Stiles flinched at the tone and took a step back, utter confusion and hurt shooting through their bond. Derek’s hand twitched in response, he was at a loss. His anger might have seemed to be put on the back-burner on the outside but he was still boiling on the inside.
“You’re angry,” Stiles noted his voice breaking. Sadness killing the bubbly glowing on his features. “You’re angry at me,” Stiles stated as apprehension finally came over him.
Derek ignored him and walked into the room. He grabbed one of the shirts on the floor and tossed it on the remaining part of the bed that was still standing up. He turned his back on Stiles and took his clothes off.
“That’s Scott’s,” Stiles said as he walked in and closed the door behind him, then leaned back against it. Arms crossed in front of his chest. Derek huffed agitated, tossing the shirt away and turned around to face Stiles. Stiles eyed the remnants of his suitcase with still a couple of shirts in it that weren’t torn. Derek sighed heavily as he went to pick one.
“Why?” Stiles asked in a hushed tone, though his heart was racing.
As Derek pulled a black shirt over his head he glared at Stiles, “Why what?” He growled.
“Why are you mad at me? Is it because I— I kissed you?” He stuttered out the question, looking unsure of himself all of a sudden. Derek just ignored him and walked towards the door, willing nothing more but to get away.
Derek,” Stiles whispered his name so brokenly it physically hurt him. His shoulders had sagged, the intensity of his hurt visibly weighing down on him.
“Look I’m sorry. I really am sorry—” his voice broke off and Stiles took a moment to swallow around the dryness of his throat before he continued, “It was stupid and I wasn’t thinking straight and it just happened,” Stiles explained with teary eyes then cast his eyes down, unable to look the Alpha in the eyes anymore. The heavy anxiety, shame, regret and hurt Derek felt through their bond was crippling, burdening them both. His very being was shouting at him to comfort his mate. Who was being so completely open and brutally honest towards him, despite the indisputable pain it was causing himself.

“I’m sorry I pushed you, but I never meant to push you away,” Stiles confessed then without further ado turned around and opened the door. Before leaving the room he spoke with his back still towards Derek, “There is a chance that the Circus will be running like it usually does tomorrow, considering visitors don’t know there’s a war going on here. The pack will have to be performing and the Argents have to get their shit together as well, but you have to stay here,” Stiles' grip on the door frame tightened.
“No one besides us knows you’re still alive and it’s better to keep it that way,” Stiles explained, though it came out sounding rather like a plea, then he walked away. His posture still frigid.

Derek felt like following his mate but decided against it. He had been so sure of his feelings before and about not trusting Stiles and doubting everything about him. Nonetheless, now that he had looked Stiles in the eyes and felt all the feelings he harboured through their bond, Derek wasn’t so sure of himself anymore.

The betraying part of him felt like believing everything Stiles had said, to believe in their bond. But Stiles was smart, in fact, he was very intelligent. It wasn’t beyond him to lie without it being detected by even Derek’s enhanced abilities. Much like Kate had wormed her way into his heart and gained his unyielding  trust. A knock on the door was enough to shake Derek out of his inner turmoil. Derek looked up to see Jackson entering the room.

“What do you want?” Derek groused annoyed at Jackson for suddenly turning up everywhere.
“Stiles walked downstairs and he was so upset the entire living room started reeking of him,” Jackson glared at him. After a long stretched silence and understanding that the Alpha wasn’t going to say anything Jackson started the conversation. “Derek you’re an ass most of the time and that’s just on your good days,” at Derek’s low warning growl Jackson quickly elaborated, “Look you’ve got shitty human skills is all I’m saying and coming from me that ought to say something.”

“Just tell me what happened. I’m your beta, right? We’re a pack, so we’re supposed to help each other and whatnot. So talk.”

Derek eyed him for a long time before he finally spoke.
“I don’t trust him,” Derek admitted.
“Why not? Has he done anything to give you reason for not trusting him?”
“He’s human, they know the Argents and besides our killer bracelets were his invention. Why should I even have to answer this question, when he has done nothing to earn my trust?” Derek ground out outraged.
“You’ve never given him the chance to earn it though,” Jackson remarked.
“And why should I care?”
“Because from the moment he has set foot here, he has been helping us no matter how much it pains me to admit this,” Jackson said reluctantly, though when Derek didn’t budge Jackson rolled his eyes and went on.
“Derek you are talking a lot of shit and you’re backing it all up but deep down you know that what you’re saying and feeling don’t add up.”
“Stiles killed the bracelets the moment he found out about them. He came up with a plan to free us. He freed you. When you got shot he turned into, well, basically you and did everything to get you to safety and treat you. After making sure you were being brought here, to safety, he came back and got me. And when we had all failed you..” Jackson looked down, “he healed you Derek, he brought you back. Back to us.”

A heavy silence filled the room once more. “So one last time, consider that next time you doubt him or talk shit about him.” Jackson spoke with finality.

As the night stretched on, both Derek and Jackson had fallen asleep in Stiles’ room. Sprawled unconsciously over the floor, with all the garbage shoved to the sides and the covers pulled over them. Jackson was rolled up in both covers, sound asleep. While Derek’s frame was angled at an awkward position, with nothing to keep him warm.
Jackson had given Derek a lot to think about. Opening his mind’s eye to things that seemed to be clear to others as well. Which meant for Derek that his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. Making him genuinely consider that this bond was horrifyingly real and true.

Derek dreamt of being shot, the pain of earlier still terribly vivid in his mind. He dreamt of someone’s voice carrying him through the fog that was slowly creeping over his mind. It was such a familiar voice and it had an absolutely mesmerizing and symphonic ring to it. Perhaps he was dead and was hearing angels singing, because that’s how it sounded to his ears. However, the pain he still was in, was enough proof that he hadn’t died yet. There were no angels singing to him, just this one familiar voice. It calmed him, gradually soothing the pain away. Until it became so dull that it seemed nonexistent. An odd warmth settled over him, making him feel all kinds of things at once. Derek hadn’t felt so at ease since before the fire. He felt like he belonged in this world again and there was this undeniable longing unfurling deep inside of him. Repressed by years of mistrust and abuse, there was this feeling, a need, for something. Something Derek’s mind couldn’t come up with. Even in his dreams. Derek’s eyes opened at the sudden absence of the warmth that had engulfed him. His eyes fell into a pair of rich amber coloured ones, starring back into his. With such emotion and intensity in them, it took Derek’s breath away. It quickened his pulse.
A warmth filled in his chest and he felt this fluttery feeling in his stomach. His hands felt sweaty and as he kept staring into those eyes, that beautiful angelic voice spoke to him. Calling out his name. Cocking his head to the side realization dawned in to Derek. The voice belonged to the person lying next to him, with incredible eyes that had his pulse quickening. As the sound of his name fell from those plump cherry coloured lips, a jolt of electricity went straight to Derek’s dick. Derek’s eyes shot up from shock. His body hadn’t reacted this way for nearly over a decade. His entire body felt as if it was on fire, he could feel himself flushing as those eyes studied him further. Slowly Derek became aware of strong confident pair of arms holding him, not in an uneasy way but rather caringly, comfortingly, and call him crazy but Derek felt so secure within them, so at home. The voice was singing to him again and as Derek gazed at those lips he saw the heartwarming smile on them, it was so pure yet so casual, Derek felt the need to taste them. He wanted to feel them against his own. For it felt like that smile was only meant for him. Derek wanted to kiss his breath away. Make this angel flush and see how those stark cheekbones would colour. How that mesmerizing voice would sound when it hitched for air. What would have his heart racing. Derek closed the space between them, his lips finding the other’s. His eyes fell shut at the incredible sensation. His heart skipped a beat at the touch of them. They were so incredibly soft and warm and kissed Derek back, ever so tenderly. As if any more pressure would break him. Derek slowly licked at the lips, wordlessly asking permission, to deepen the kiss. The other seemed to understand his intention, for his lips opened allowing Derek to further deepen the kiss. Derek’s tongue eagerly explored this angels mouth, memorizing every feel to it,  learning what pulled a reaction from the other, eliciting a moan as he tenderly nibbled on his lower lips. His mouth tasted divine, like everything delicious Derek ever had been privileged to taste. Derek felt like his heart would burst out of his ribcage any moment now.

If he had thought he was on fire before than this felt like he was made of fire himself. He felt extremely hot all over, his hands came up and roamed the silky skin of the angel he was kissing. One hand came to rest at the nape of his neck , ever so gently pulling him closer. The pulse under his fingers sending a frenzy through him. Derek needed to get even closer, he needed the feel of skin on skin. With the hand that Derek had held the other close to him, he slowly caressed down the angels arm, all the way over to his stomach and coming to a halt at the fabric of his shirt, intending to remove it. He felt the hum of  approval rather than hearing it. The unspoken words  vibrating against Derek’s reddened lips. Derek didn’t hesitate and quickly obliged as he pulled the shirt off, only breaking the kiss for that single moment.

His own breathing was hitched, and he  licked at his lips and swallowed dryly. The air seemed to be thinning. His lungs unable to pull enough oxygen. Derek  proceeded taking his own shirt off and tossing it aside. Derek ground his hips down as he laid himself atop on the other, straddling him. He marveled at the feel of the smooth flesh underneath him, hard abdominal muscles constricting under his touch. Derek rested one hand beside the other’s head while with his other hand he cupped the rosy cheek, tracing the swollen lips with his thumb softly. When suddenly those lips opened and sucked his thumb into that hot and wet mouth. Tongue daringly lapping around it.

The action sent another jolt of electricity straight down to his dick. Derek’s jeans were starting to feel too tight. Before Derek had the chance to respond a hand possessively pulled him closer and the mouth let go of his thumb in favour of Derek’s lips. This kiss however was so eager and passionate, it was nothing like the previous tender one. It was feverish, hot and sloppy and there were some teeth involved but Derek had lost himself way too much to care. He was sporting a semi hard-on and sweat was dripping down his back. His hips started grinding against the others crotch desperate to create friction. The hard outline of his fully erect cock brushing against Derek’s. His hips raised to meet Derek’s thrusts, making this painfully good. It was all becoming too much, Derek needed more of that friction without the goddamn restricting fabric between them. Then he suddenly felt a hand graze at the button of his jeans, flicking it open. He looked up into those lust filled intense eyes, he still couldn’t place, and he choked when he felt warm lean and silky soft fingers, take him into his hands. Methodically stroking him into full erection. He started slowly but quickened his movements, matching Derek’s frantic thrusts. Derek was losing rhythm in his movements and his breathing. His eyes darkening with lust. As he stared into those familiar eyes, with pupils blown wide, he lowered himself and kissed those lips, he was becoming aware of something. Perhaps the name behind this beautiful and familiar person.
I want to taste you,” Derek whimpered lewdly, placing fervently hot moist kisses down his throat.

Suddenly, it clicked into place and he was brutally shaken out of his dream.

“Derek!!” Jackson growled as he pushed Derek. Derek became aware of three things at once Jackson’s toe being suckled by his lips! Stiles standing in the doorway looking shocked, horrified and grossed out all at once. And last but not least,

Stiles!” Derek whimpered lowly, eyes glowing crimson.  

In a single movement he had shoved Jackson aside and ran out of the room to hurl in the bathroom. Because Derek ‘s mouth had just touched Jackson’s disgusting toe. Thank the weregods for his supernatural healing abilities because he was sure he might have caught several diseases otherwise. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he suddenly became painfully aware of the raging hard-on he was still sporting. Suddenly, his entire back ran cold at the mortifying realization that Stiles just might have seen him in this situation. Oh god what if he thought it was because of Jackson, the thought nearly made him hurl again. Derek had whimpered Stiles’ name. What if he thought that Derek was hurling because of that, a sudden panic ran like lightening through him at the thought, his entire frame going rigid, standing absolutely still.
Fact of the matter was, Derek was attracted to Stiles, no matter what he felt or thought, because what he had just felt was more than anything he had ever felt before. And if his still painfully erected cock was anything to go by, Derek was most definitely attracted to Stiles. Fuck!
Him preferably, his mind supplied.

A knock on the door had Derek jumping out of his skin. Canines bared and claws drawn out. With a shaky hand Derek supported himself upright, leaning heavily on the counter, and hoping to whatever his voice would come out normal.

“Derek?” Came Stiles’ concerned voice softly “are you okay?” He  asked in an insecure tone. Derek could still feel the shame, uncertainty and sadness through the bond clear as day. It tore at his heart to find out what his mate must be thinking at the moment. Derek’s fears from a moment ago hadn’t been in vain.
Derek didn’t trust his voice so instead of answering, he let out a grunt. He heard a defeated sigh escape Stiles’ lips and Derek stood behind the closed door wanting to fling it open when he heard him leave. Heavy footfalls trudging down the staircase once again. Derek closed his eyes and decided to take a long much needed cold shower. Everything else just needed to wait until then.
As Derek walked into the shower stall, he turned the tap open and stood under the cold shower. The ice cold water hitting his heated body ruefully, goose bumps running all over his body. If Derek closed his eyes and let his hand drift down the hard planes of his chest, all the way to take a hold of his fully erect cock and started slowly jerking off to images of his dream of Stiles, well no one was ever to know. The heavy scent of precum started to fill the small space. God this was such a bad idea! He was in a house full of werewolves. The only thing that bothered him at the moment though was not knowing how his mate’s precum smelled like. That thought, of being so close to Stiles to find that out, to taste him, his very essence, to feel the heavy weight of Stiles’ cock on his tongue, had Derek’s back arching as he reached his climax. Biting harshly on his fist to keep his wanton moans at bay, Derek jerked through the lasts of his orgasm. He let his head fall heavily against the shower wall and drew ragged breaths. His entire body trembling. Despite the nearly unbearable cold shower his body still felt like it had bathed in hot molten lava. 





After his long and very much needed shower Derek had changed into even more of Stiles’ clothes, deciding to go commando because he was not going to borrow anyone’s briefs. He would be lying if he didn’t admit, at least to himself, that Stiles’ clothes on him felt so good, the sweet earthy scent nearly having him in need of another cold shower. Besides, Stiles’ jeans already were too tight on him so there was no need for testing its limitations. Derek stealthily descended the stairs when he didn’t hear any sound coming from the house except for a single heartbeat, beating slightly irregular. As he approached the person he stopped in his tracks when he saw that it was Stiles standing in front of the window, gazing intently at the surroundings. There wasn’t any sound or motion of gunfire, soldiers, or anything remotely indicating that there had been a war raging on outside just hours ago. Just as Stiles turned around to face him, the front door clicked open and Jackson and a fierce looking blonde stepped inside, closing the door behind them.

“Glad that’s over with,” she stated in an overly annoyed voice.
“Ah look Mr. Hotness is finally standing upright,” she noted smiling smugly at him. Jackson shoved her aside and walked over to the kitchen, mumbling, “Ignore her,” under his breath.
“Heard that!” She quickly replied, scrutinizing the beta threateningly, while walking over to the black leather couch in the living room and sat down gracefully.
Derek just stood there, at a loss, and the crushing flood of emotions that was clashing like waves within him was making it hard for him not to say anything.
“Stiles,” Derek began composing himself enough to make the word come out sounding strong and confident, both of which he wasn’t feeling at all.

“I should be going,” Stiles spoke to no one in particular while eyeing the front door. “You two keep watch,” he instructed and started heading for the entryway.
“Stiles,” Derek barely had spoken before Stiles was already out the door. Leaving him feeling heavy with  sorrow.
“Everyone has left for their acts, the area is crawling with humans, no disrespect Lydia,” Jackson spoke, eyeing the blonde apologetically.  
“So what? The war is on time-out?” Derek huffed scornfully.
“Yep,” Jackson profoundly explained, not.
“What about the humans? Is it safe for them to simply be hanging around guards, considering the Argents know they’re on our side?” Derek implored.
“It’s a war-free zone at the moment. Everyone is doing everything to keep appearances up, that includes leaving the humans untouched and unharmed,” Jackson explained.
“Besides, Stiles is an important person outside of here. Important enough that he has gained a position of prestige within diplomatic circles in the States. So, if they have any common sense they will leave the humans out of this,” he further elaborated.

“The pack seems to think you think that you have nothing to live for,” Lydia mumbled casually out of the blue. Eyeing him skeptically, her head turned to the side while she scrutinized him with calculating eyes.
“As does Stiles,” Jackson offered while grabbing a can of Coke from the refrigerator. Derek raised a questioning eyebrow at them, his arms crossing in front of his chest as he steadied his stance.
“Well, do you?” Lydia shot the question at him with an impatient look shadowing her features.
“Maybe..” Derek replied after a heavy and tense filled silence. The air seemed to be sucked out of the room. Jackson stopped his fiddling with the can’s lid and walked over towards them, eying him sincerely.
Lydia just huffed, barely containing her knowing smile. Because their suspicion had just been confirmed.
“Someone once said.. that if you don’t have anything to live for, then you better find something to die for,” Jackson spoke up with absolute sincerity in his eyes.
It left Derek speechless to be frank, because there was something that like that once. It had been exactly, what he had been doing. His pack had been his reason for a long time. Regardless, somewhere along the line things had changed so drastically and irrevocably that he had lost his hope and purpose in life.

“It was 2pac,” Lydia suddenly chimed in. Shaking Derek out of his little epiphany.
“What?” Jackson asked incredulously. 
 Rolling her eyes Lydia replied, “that ‘someone’ was 2pac, also he was quoting his mother, so,” she waved her hand dismissively. To which Jackson just got up and walked away.

Hours had passed and slowly the day came to its end. Derek hadn’t seen Stiles after their little encounter earlier and that had been that. What didn’t pass though, were the clashing waves of emotions that made Derek’s insides coil. He needed to explain matters to Stiles so badly. Though, he found himself feeling trapped yet again. Because he wanted nothing more right now, then having the chance to explain things to his mate.

Once the others returned, Stiles among them, they were all exhausted and went about making dinner and planning on how to retaliate when this bullshit time-out was over with.  Derek followed Stiles as he made his way to his room.
“Stiles,” he tried, his tone careful.
“Derek, I’m tired not now. Please leave.” Stiles breathed the words exhaustedly more that actually spoke them. But there was a hint of a plea to his voice.
“No, Stiles. I need to explain this,” Derek attempted persistently. 
“I think you’ve explained enough for one day, don’t you think,” came the harsh reply. Dark, hardened eyes met his, head on… before the door was thrown shut in his face. Derek’s entire posture trembling from all the things he was feeling all at once, both Stiles’ and his own. Which left him utterly wrecked, because he needed to explain himself before he lost his confidence. Before he lost Stiles. His wolf was yowling at him for not being able to compose himself before. To fight the battle when all wasn’t nearly lost. Derek had been so inexcusably wrong about Stiles, to think he had teamed up with Kate, after he had risked his own life to get the message to Derek. To fight off guards in order to give him the key to his freedom. Stiles didn’t owe any of it to Derek. He could have ignored it all and went on about his life like everyone else seemed to do. In fact Derek hadn’t even earned his trust, because unlike Stiles, Derek had hid behind his past. Had blamed everything and everyone for the abuse he had endured, all the while forgetting that he wasn’t the only one here getting treated like this. Wasn’t the only one who had been abused or had a dark and unforgettably cruel past. More importantly, he had never thanked Stiles for all that he had done thus far, without asking for anything in return or expecting anything for that matter. At the final apprehension Derek felt like his heart was being torn, because he had gone so wrong about all of this. He’d hurt the one person that hadn’t hurt him or ever mistreated him. A heavy weight settled into his stomach, churning his insides until it spread to his chest. 

Chapter Text

After standing behind the closed door to Stiles’ room for some time, in vain, Derek walked down the stairs with sagged shoulders. Approaching the others in the kitchen the smell of food made his mouth water. He honestly couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten. Specifically the last time he had eaten pizza! Walking over to the oven, Derek eyed the left over slices. Grabbing a plate he took the remaining slices and walked over towards Scott.

As he neared Scott everyone turned their attention on him.
“Hey, how did it go?” Jackson quietly asked eying him curiously. Derek just shook his head and with his free hand grabbed Scott at the back of his neck.
“Woah, Derek!” Isaac rapidly got to his feet, looking confused as hell. Vigilant even.
“You come with me,” Derek commanded Scott and ignored Isaac and everyone else for that matter, “now!”
Scott hurriedly complied, angst wafting off of him in waves. 
“Sit down Isaac,” Derek ordered him in his alpha voice, eyes flashing a brilliant red.
Derek turned around and ushered Scott towards the stairs alongside of him.

“Where’s Peter?” He implored glancing sideways at the human.
“He and his pack had to deal with something,” Scott stuttered, tripping over his own feet. Derek’s quick reflexes prevented the idiot from landing face first on the staircase. 
“Thank you,” Scott said, relieve releasing some of the tension from his shoulders.
“Tell Stiles to open the door, don’t mention me.” Derek instructed as they neared the room Stiles had locked himself into. Scott quickly nodded. When they came to stand still in front of the door Scott raised one hand and knocked on the door.
“Stiles, open the door man,” Scott spoke in a calm tone.
It took a while before the door was unlocked. At first Stiles’ eyes widened with surprise at seeing Scott, a soft smile lighting up his features but it quickly diminished as they fell on Derek. Stiles was about to slam the door shut but Derek was quick to react. Immediately letting go of Scott he put one hand against the door, preventing it from closing.
“Scott, you may go,” Derek said as he entered the room and shut the door behind him. Eying an incredibly annoyed and angered mate.

“I thought I told you that you’d explained enough! What part about that didn’t you understand?” Stiles exclaimed flinging his hands through his hair desperately.
“But I didn’t,” Derek said bewildered, “explain anything.”
“Yeah, which was enough of an explanation of its own!” Stiles huffed.
Derek held the plate of pizza towards Stiles, “Eat.”
Stiles whole bodily flailed, “are you kidding me?” He almost shouted.
“I don’t want your stupid pizza or this,” he waved in Derek’s general area, “whatever it is!”
“Then what do you want?” Derek implored dejected.
“You to leave,” Stiles spoke tiredly.
Derek’s posture stilled, staring off into nothing in particular before he gave a curt nod and left the way he had come. As he stood in the kitchen, staring at the pizza with zero appetite, he sighed defeated. What the hell could he remotely do to make things at least a little better? He knew for certain that Stiles was hungry, he had been out the entire day, and his stomach had growled at the sight of the pizza. But he was being too stubborn and unrelenting. Derek didn’t like it, at all!
“How did it go?” Scott’s voice suddenly shook him out of his internal reverie.
Derek huffed and shoved the overly stuffed plate in front of him.
“Hmm.. you know there’s one thing Stiles would never say no to..” Scott said with a wide grin across his face.
“Like what?” Derek frowned at him, his eyes squinting skeptically.
“Curly fries, mah man! Curly fries,” Scott replied with a shit eating grin and pat him once on the shoulder. Derek growled at the contact and slammed the human against the counter behind him.
“Don’t ever call me that again!” Derek gritted his teeth punctuating each word. Scott stumbled away from him curling in on himself, suddenly terrified and eager to get away as quickly as possible.
Derek!” Isaac’s voice boomed from the living room.

Derek smirked to himself in satisfaction as he watched Scott’s figure take off in a hurry. Turning around he focused his attention on the items he needed. Despite being held captive for most of his life, Derek knew how to cook a proper meal. His mother would teach Laura how to cook and Derek being the competitive sibling he was wanted to learn everything Laura got to. Including cooking. So, every Sunday his mother would teach them to cook one meal at a time. Eventually Laura and he got to cook their Sunday meals. During their first couple of weeks they hadn’t been quite excellent at it, although none of their family members had ever complained. Despite that one time when their meal had so much pepper in it, it brought tears to their eyes. Going to the toilet the next day had been hell. Still they had stayed supportive of them, until they finally got the hang of it.

Derek went through all the cabinets and grabbed the ingredients he needed. After washing his hands he started scrubbing the potatoes, largest ones he could find. He’d leave the skins on because that’d make it so much more delicious. With a cutter he sliced half an inch from one end of each potatoe. After he was done slicing them all, Derek, filled a large bowl with hot water from the tap then added the potatoes. While letting them soak for a while, Derek went on with making the batter. Grabbing a second bowl he added the salt, onion, garlic, cayenne and paprika powder along with the flour into it. Mixing them together with a spoon then added water to it and stirred until he had gotten all the clumps out of it. Then proceeded by adding the slices of potatoes into the batter bowl. Finally after frying them, Derek grabbed a plate and stuffed it with his own homemade curly fries. As he turned around to leave the kitchen he came to stand still at the sight in front of him. His pack of idiots alongside with Lydia, Danny— he assumed—  and Scott were standing at the dinner table slash bar, eyeing him dreamily.

“What?” Derek grumbled, scowling at them.
“You’ve cooked! For him! That is awfully cute, Derek,” Lydia said in a rather high-pitched tone.
“Shut up.” Derek growled.
“Can we have some of it, please?” Isaac asked eyes shining with glee, huge smile plastered on his face.
Derek huffed and walked passed them, heading straight for Stiles’ room. Even though he was upstairs he could still hear the others squeal over the fries, the clattering of plates joining the sound of their mindless conversing.

Derek didn’t bother with knocking this time around, he simply barged into the room and kicked the door shut behind him. Stiles who, apparently had been asleep, jumped out of his slumber and eyed the intruder with sleepy eyes. Once understanding dawned on his sleep induced mind his features turned grim.

“Dude, seriously!” He threw a pillow at Derek and covered his head with his blanket.
Derek ignored the pillow that barely hit him and went over to his annoying mate. He hunched as he pulled the blanket away.
“Eat!” He said in a voice that bore no protest.
Stiles eyed the plate and his eyes widened immensely at its contents, his stomach growled loudly. Though as he looked back up into Derek’s eyes he shook his head no.
“Eat!” Derek commanded, eyes scintillating crimson.
Stiles grumbled under his breath but took the plate from him nonetheless. He picked up a slice and eyed it suspiciously before bringing it, ever so slowly, to his mouth and taking a small bite. After chewing exaggeratingly slow and swallowing it, he looked at the plate hesitantly before grabbing a handful of it and stuffing his mouth full. He was eating so quickly he almost choked on them.
“Easy,” Derek murmured while he patted his back softly. Stiles looked up at him teary eyed and nodded.

The young man had finished the entire plate within five minutes. Here Derek thought werewolves ate a lot and way too fast.   
After a pause Stiles looked at him, an unfathomable look on his face. “Those were the most delicious curly fries I’ve ever had,” he confessed, “where’d you get it?” He inquired, a genuine smile on his features.
“Made them.” Derek replied gently as he sat down, feeling more at ease than he had in hours.
“You’re lying!’ Stiles beseeched with accusing eyes, his smile vanishing.
Derek rolled his eyes and took the empty plate from Stiles to put it away.
“You’re not lying,” Stiles stated flabbergasted, eyes hugely round with disbelief.
“No, I’m not,” Derek agreed.
“But, how..? How’d you even know I would like them?”
“Scott,” Derek replied as an explanation.
“You just cooked this?” Stiles asked disbelief still lingering in his eyes but a faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Derek nodded.
“That’s— woah..” a blush slowly painted his silky features.
“Go back to sleep,” Derek instructed.
Stiles seemed to be about to object but he seemed too much in awe at the moment, so instead nodded his head in agreement. Derek put the blanket back over his mate. A rush of exhilaration suddenly surging through him. His wolf seemed to be so content, it had never felt this way before. An unexplainable weightlessness settled in his stomach. Derek got the plate then got to his feet, eying Stiles’ relaxed frame.

“Stiles,” Derek whispered afraid the boy had already fallen back asleep.
But his fears quickly dissipated when he opened his eyes, “yeah?”
“I— ” he started but fell short, uncertain of how to voice his thoughts.
“I know you didn’t explain anything but that’s okay, you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Stiles quipped up. To which Derek frowned because that hadn’t been what he had wanted to say.
“No.. just— I would you rather not go outside tomorrow,” he admitted at last, his heart jack hammering violently in his chest. Because this was the first time Derek had admitted anything concerning his feelings towards his mate, to his mate. He certainly didn’t want to command Stiles into doing anything. Instead Derek had to voice what he did want from Stiles without it coming across the wrong way. Stiles looked as if he was taken aback, though, slowly nodded nonetheless.
Derek closed his eyes and let out a deep breath he didn’t know he had been holding. Turning around he started for the door.

“Derek..” came the insecure whisper.
Derek stopped in his tracks.
“Could you stay…  just stay?” Stiles’ question came out with a tremor.
Derek had gone rigid and it took him a couple of moments to recollect himself before he turned around, dropped the plate softly and made his way to where Stiles was laying. Stiles’ figure noticeably slackened. Derek sat down beside him and after a couple of minutes laid back. His frame not touching Stiles’ but close to him nevertheless. Stiles turned on his side, facing Derek, his eyes closed. It didn’t take long before his breathing slowed and become more regular as he fell into a deep slumber. Derek turned on his side, resting his head on one arm as he watched over Stiles’ sleeping form. His mate seemed so at peace. The way the moonlight shone on his milky coloured skin made him utterly beautiful. Derek’s eyes scanned him, from his long think lashes to all the dark dots that were painted on his skin elegantly. Much resembling  the mesmerizing stars shining brightly at night. Derek wanted to memorize them all.

It wasn’t long since Derek had fallen asleep before he was awaken by Stiles, poking his cheek insistently. “I will bite you,” Derek half-heartedly warned, refusing to open his eyes.
“No, you won’t!” Stiles continued being a pest, a hint of a smile to his voice.
Derek grumbled almost groaning out loud. He needed his sleep.
“I had this dream,” Stiles started and Derek’s entire posture turned to stone. If it were any like the dream Derek had had himself then…
“I was introducing you to someone who’s rather close to me back home and I knew close to nothing about you. So naturally I had to lie but it felt so wrong, because I was introducing you to the one person that has been some sort of a parent figure in my life, you know,” Stiles talked on endlessly.
Derek sighed heavily knowing he could bid his sleep farewell. He opened one eye and peered at the slighter. Stiles’ smile grew wide at his petit succession.

“So, we should get to know each other!” Stiles finished with a smug smile.
“At 4 AM?” Derek bitched.
“Semantics,” Stiles waved his hand dismissively.
“What do you want to know?” Derek relented, heaving himself up on one arm as he eyed his mate sleepily.
“Well, how old are you?” Stiles questioned, tapping his chin in consideration of what to ask.
“26,” Derek replied.
“See, I didn’t know that. That’s like crucial information!”
“How old am I, you ask? Well Derek I am 24,” Stiles answered his own question since Derek didn’t seem as eager for such knowledge as he was.
“Favourite colour?”
“Mine is—”
“Blue,” Derek interrupted him, scratching his cheek tiredly.
Stiles eyed him incredulous, “wait, how’d you know that?”
“You told me.”
“And you remembered that?” Stiles’ eyes widened from surprise. Derek just nodded his head. Not seeing why that was such a big deal.
“Hmm.. oke.. were you born here?” Stiles asked.
Derek shook his head, “Beacon Hills.”
Stiles sat up abruptly, blinking fiercely at him. “You’re from BH?”
Derek nodded his head and awaited Stiles’ explanation as to why it was such a surprise to him.
“Me too!” Stiles exclaimed, gripping tightly onto Derek’s arms. “Derek, how is that possible?” The younger quizzed in awe, chewing on his bottom lip nervously, a habit it seemed. A deep frown rippled the skin of Derek’s forehead in confusion.

“I don’t know,” Derek answered. But deep down things started making much more sense. Derek had always found that Stiles smelled like home to him, and he’d justified that to himself by putting it on their bond. On them being mates. Clearly, he had never considered the idea of the familiar scent being literally from his hometown.

“Derek, how did you end up here?” Stiles’ hushed, yet severe tone broke through the haze of thoughts that were swirling through Derek’s mind.
“The Argents,” the alpha replied, staring off into darkness.
“But why?”
“Because they’re hunters Stiles,” Derek spat with venom. Stiles flinched at the sudden outburst.
“Werewolf hunters?” Stiles whispered, needing the confirmation.
Derek gave a curt nod.

“What about your parents? Can’t they find you?” Stiles inquired.

“No. They’re dead,” Derek his expression appeared callous, void of any emotion. Stiles’ heart skipped a beat, breath hitching in shock, tears springing to his eyes. Because despite Derek’s grand façade, Stiles for a fact knew even felt, what Derek was so desperately trying to keep at bay. To leave it unsaid.
Derek most certainly wasn’t about to tell Stiles everything, just yet. Perhaps he never would. Because, what if Stiles started seeing Derek for the monster almost everyone saw him for— and quite possibly would find Derek guilty for the murder of his family. Despite the little bubble of peace they had right now, Derek knew they weren’t more than acquaintances. So he wasn’t going to let himself be deluded by the idea that they were anything more.

“Derek, I am so sorry,” Stiles whispered hushed, his hand unconsciously reaching out to the Alpha’s. As if in need to comfort the stoic werewolf, where his words fell short and failed him. Derek nodded his head in agreement, for words could never explain how truly sorry he was.

“My dad was murdered couple of years ago,” Stiles voiced the confession with great pain, tears hotly trailing down his reddened cheeks. Derek’s eyebrows shot up, swallowing around the lump in his throat, he griped tightly onto Stiles’ hand. Absently caressing the back of his palm with his thumb. 

“I thought I would never be able to live without him,” Stiles sniffed, voice low, grief flooding through their bond.
“They’re all dead but me,” he choked out devastated, fiercely wiping tears away with the back of his hand. Derek nearly whined at the pure grief his mate was feeling. Because there was this palpable underlying confession that was left unspoken, but was indispensable, and acknowledged that deep down Stiles felt like he was all alone.

“Stiles,” Derek whispered so softly, it almost went unheard. He lifted the slighter’s chin up, willing him to meet his eyes. Stiles blinked the tears from his grief-stricken eyes and met Derek’s. His lips quivering as he took a deep breath to collect himself.  
“You’ve got me,” Derek spoke with unalloyed sincerity.
Before Stiles had the chance to reply, the shrill tone of his phone shattered their little bubble of contentment and comforting silence. Stiles excused himself and walked to the hallway to take his call, muttering something about ‘work-related’.

Derek decided he might as well get up and head down the stairs in search for Peter. Once out of the room he cast a last glance over his shoulder towards Stiles and noticed the slighter’s entire focus was dedicated to his call. Upon ascending the staircase Derek noticed two figures talking away near the huge living room window and the others sprawled across the living room. Jackson, Lydia and Danny had all somehow fitted themselves on the couch and were fast asleep. It came to his attention that Isaac and Scott weren’t amongst the bunch. Though there was a fourth silhouette standing in the hallway which led to the bathroom. There was something off about the figure and Derek decided to check out for himself what that something was.

“Who are you?” Derek growled menacingly, approaching it predatory. The figure jumped at being found out, piercingly cold blue eyes met his.

“Derek,” whispered an all too familiar voice, heart beat skyrocketing. The voice belonged to Derek’s nightmares. Grabbing the beta at its throat Derek pulled it into the living room.

“Cora,” he breathed astound, his body felt paralyzed. Nailed to the floor beneath him. Suddenly, Peter was at his side taking a hold of his arm.
“Derek, I know what you must be feeling but don’t,” his uncle said urgently.
“We’re in the middle of a war, so please Derek, collect yours—”

Before Peter had finished talking Derek had pulled his claws and lunged for his throat. The Alpha’s eyes ablaze in deep pools of crimson. His teeth nearly tearing through Peter’s throat. Peter’s claws latched themselves into his arms, trying to push Derek off.

“Derek, stop it!” Cora beseeched desperately, pulling on his arm. Victoria on her other side and tried to manage to pull Derek into a headlock.
“Let.Him.Go.” She hissed into his ear, her voice cutting through him like ice.
By then Jackson and Danny were trying to pull Peter away from Derek’s teeth— which were still snapping at air threateningly. Derek’s mouth was dripping with Peter’s blood and it pleased his wolf to no end.
“I am her Alpha and she is not to see you, for as long as I want,” Peter hissed venomously. Derek roared at him, a deafening guttural sound vibrating off the walls and windows.
“I will rip your heart out,” Derek promised, his voice trembling from rage. If he weren’t being held down by two strong beta’s he would have done as much.    

Scott and Isaac came running down the stairs, shocked into silence by the image in front of them.
“Derek,” Isaac addressed him softly, a flash of guilt flickered through his eyes but it was gone as soon as it had appeared.

“You knew,” Derek realized, body going slack. “This entire time, all of you knew,” he whispered brokenly. Unable to keep the look of hurt and tremendous betrayal from his features. His own pack had known about his little sister being alive, all this time, and not once had they thought of mentioning it to him. Peter, the last of his family and bloodline had pulled Cora into his pack!

“All those years, you lied,” Derek accused his uncle, feeling truly gutted. A low sounding sob escaping his lips as burningly hot tears trailed down his cheeks.

“Derek?” Stiles’ voice resounded through the horrifying silence of the house. Though even his mate’s voice wasn’t enough to pull Derek’s attention away from Peter. His traitor of an uncle.

“Get off of him!” Stiles pushed at Victoria and Cora, as he kneeled down beside him. Then held tightly onto Derek’s arm. “What happened?” He demanded eying the others, though none of them spoke up.

“Cora,” Derek glanced at his little sister, his pain still clearly visible in his eyes.    
“I’m sorry Derek, I couldn’t. He’s my alpha.”
“Don’t!” Derek spat at her, eyes flashing crimson once more. Cora just swallowed the tears away and shook her head at him.
“I just got you back!” He mewled, his voice gone hoarse.
“I’m sorry,” Cora sniveled, clasping her hands in front of her mouth and ran out of the living room. Victoria pulled Peter with her as they followed after Cora.

Stiles’ hand was softly caressing calming circles on Derek’s back. After giving Derek some time he tried to pull the Alpha up.
“Come on Derek, let’s get you cleaned up.”  
“No, I need to be alone,” Derek pulled away from Stiles and got to his feet. Then headed for the bathroom down the hallway.





Stiles had his eyes fixed on Derek’s back until he had disappeared into the bathroom. He then turned his attention to his friends.

“Scott, Danny, Lydia, we’re being sued. One of our shareholders is suing the company,” Stiles informed them. Before any could reply he quickly elaborated, “The specifics are yet to be resolved, though rest assured I’ve already got people working on it.” He tried to somewhat reassure his friends.

“What! How is that even possible?” Lydia demanded.
“It’s possible Lydia, we’ll just have to wait and see,” Stiles sighed heavily.

“Stiles, can we talk for a second?” Scott asked, needing to speak to his best friend privately.
“Sure,” Stiles nodded, scratching his neck before he followed Scott into their room.
“Do I even want to know what happened here?” Scott asked, eying his friend warily.

Both of them walked to the glass window and sat down in front of it. Staring over the mountains and the trees.

“So, what did you want to talk to me about?” Stiles started, glancing sideways at him.
“Look man, I just.. ever since we got here everything changed,” Scott exhaled a long breath he had been holding. “I mean even you and I got into a fight, bro,” Scott scratched his head, still feeling confused about that particular occurrence.
“Yeah, about that. Look I’m sorry Scott,” Stiles apologized sincerely, looking bit ashamed of himself.
“We cool man,” Scott waved his hand.
“It’s just that I have meant to ask you, do you really like this guy? Or is it that you feel obligated to have feelings for him?” Scott voiced his concerns a tad nervously.
“You know, Lydia asked me the very same and to be honest dude I have been asking it myself too,” Stiles stared out the window, chewing on his bottom lip.
“But it is real, what I feel. I mean it’s not love but it isn’t nothing either. It has become something I can’t ignore and frankly don’t want to either.”
Scott nodded his head, he did really understand where Stiles was coming from. If anything they were going through the same thing.

“For what it’s worth, his feelings do seem genuine,” Scott admitted.
“Yeah.. it does, doesn’t it? Who knew Mr. Grumpy could cook?” Stiles smiled at the memory.

“What about you and Isaac?” Stiles asked him softly, it appeared his friend knew things weren’t going very well between Isaac and him.
“Weird..” Scott gave a one-shouldered shrug. “It’s.. there are feelings there, I think, and I would like to get to know him, you know. But at the same time I do feel.. apprehensive, you know what I mean?” Scott confessed, a frown pulling at his eyebrows.
“I do, man,” Stiles replied, patting him reassuringly on his back.
“Besides, with Erica being murdered and everything going on talking about feelings with him is kinda the last thing on anyone’s mind.”
“Dude, try dealing with an Alpha who can go off at any moment. It’s not like Derek is very talkative either,” Stiles scrunched up his face.  
“About that.. Stiles you can’t keep going back to him if he keeps on treating you like that...”
“Like what?”
“Like he gets to hurt you, just because he has a lot of shit to deal with. Like it’s your fault, which it isn’t,” Scott explained.
“I know, I just— I feel bad even talking behind his back right now, because he is different around me. He just… sometimes he finally opens up a little you know. And I get to see through the cracks of those layers upon layers of walls he has built around him, and it’s just— those are the moments that make me feel for him.”
“Dude, gross,” Scott pushed him away playfully.
“Now you’re just sounding like a love sick puppy,” Scott smirked at him.
Stiles pulled him into a head-lock and ruffled his hair, “don’t ruin the moment,”
“Ouch! Stiiiiiles,” Scott whined pulling away from him. “Stop messing my hair!” Scott pouted trying to fix his hair. Stiles rolled his eyes at his foolishness.

“C’mere,” he started doing his hair, “there, you look awesome!”
“I do?” Scott brightened up at that.
“Yeah man, to the point that I’d definitely do you!” Stiles grinned back at him.
“You would?”
“Of course!”

Out of nowhere the door was thrown open, showing a what appeared to be a jealous Isaac.
“Derek asked for you,” he spoke calmly, his face turning to its usual expressionless one.
“He did?” Stiles looked confused from Scott back to Isaac. Isaac just nodded his head and stood aside whilst Stiles got to his feet and left the room.

“What were you talking about?” Isaac inquired, an unreadable expression  on his face.
“Nothing… just stuff?” Scott lied, getting a bit nervous under the beta’s scrutiny.
“Stuff?” Isaac repeated him, an eyebrow quirking up.
“Yeah… like stuff you know.. just…” Scott was searching for a right word to get him out of this inquisition it seemed.
“Stuff..” Isaac filled in for him. Scott nodded his head fervently, gulping audibly.
“So… nothing of importance? Like say…” Isaac glanced at the ceiling appearing nonchalant, “that he’d do you?” He leveled Scott with an accusing look, the depths of his eyes giving away his desire for Scott to lie to him about it.
“I eh.. I need to use the bathroom, like really bad, I should just,” he pointed his thumb towards the door.
“You probably should,” Isaac confusingly agreed, nodding his head.
“I should?” The words fell out of Scott’s mouth before he knew what the hell he was saying.
“If Stiles gets near you, as much as thinks of doing you, I will punch the both of you,” Isaac informed him with a mischievous grin plastered across his face. Scott swallowed harshly before nodding his head.

“I thought you didn’t care…” he spoke after a moment’s pause.
“I thought you had to use the bathroom,” Isaac fired right back. Scott just made that he got out of the room.

Was that Isaac admitting that he perhaps has some feelings towards me? He did seem jealous.. Scott thought to himself, a smile tugging up at the corners of his lips.  






After the clash with Derek, Peter had to sit down and recover. He was a werewolf, but that didn’t exactly mean mortal wounds would heal that quick. The room was spinning so he lay down on the coach. The living room was oddly devoid of life. Wonder where they all went? He pondered.

“Yes, I do occasionally think,” he mumbled, more to himself. Around him someone seemed to be moving, but Peter didn’t pay too much attention. The humans were beneath him. Yet, had one of his pack, taken a bullet for one of them. He wanted to spit on the floor, but he didn’t because he wasn’t sure if his throat had healed enough.

Those condescending shitheads kept watching us perform vile and lethal stunts, while applauding and not even considering that we would actually be hurting. Peter’s opinion of humans wasn’t very high at the moment. A small reminder of earlier, brought him back to the real world. One of his wounds started to seep a little too much blood…

Sniveling bastard, didn’t even stop and think before he acted. Peter felt someone, press down on the wounds with a wet cloth. He turned his head, it wasn’t Victoria as he’d thought it would be. Turns out it was his cousin Cora.  Peter looked at her with pity. He didn’t like to admit but, he still had a human side to him, as much as he tried denying it. 

“Cora, dear….” he whimpered, his throat still raw.
She shook her head, tears still rolling down her tears.
“Baby girl,” he softened. “You know it’s for his and your own good.”
Cora met his eyes and just stared. Her hand deftly pressing down on each wound for good measure.
Peter snarled.

This is her way of getting even with me, tending my wounds, forcefully.

“Cora,” his voice came out raspy, “We will tell him in good time, and fear not, you shall talk to him soon. He cannot deny you. You saw his agony, want to add onto it by telling him about what the Argents did to you?”
Cora’s face seemed to harden.

“To you AND Victoria? It’s not only your story to tell, but it’s also hers.”

She was still silent but the point had gotten across. At least he’d like to think so. Peter wasn’t feeling all that well.

Explains me softening up, he thought. It’s most definitely certain that I am ill. I wonder if Derek hit me on the head as well?

“There,” Cora curtly said to him. She got up and grabbed the emergency kit. She grabbed a needle which she didn’t even sterilize and stitching thread and started stitching wherever she needed to. Making sure that Peter would be in plenty of pain. 

“You’re really making me pay aren’t you?” Peter grunted. Cora smiled innocently and softly said, “I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

Peter endured. He’d hurt the girl enough, likewise for Derek. It was the best option I had, he reaffirmed himself. Hurting them like this was only a small sacrifice, for the sake of survival. Eventually they will get the time to reconcile and tell their own stories, but now was simply not the time!
He placed his hand on his forehead, bracing for an impending headache that werewolves couldn’t really get. It was a formality, but Peter couldn’t express his emotions as the Alpha, he simply had to endure. It’s how he had hardened himself in the past for the sake of the pack, and he would do it again. Sadly none of the others could see it. Cora placed the sutures and tightened them, making Peter wince once more.
“For double checking,” she said with a small smile.

Stuck-up brat really likes my agony he thought.

Peter stood up and thanked Cora for the sake of pleasantries. She’s a problem that would arise later, but that would be later, after this entire shit war has ended.

“Cora, heal me like that a second time and I shall punish this rebellious behavior,” he paused, waiting for any smack-talk. Cora didn’t utter a single word, she was rather soothed by donating some of her personal pain, onto Peter’s wounds.
“I’d rather you believe that this is for your own good, but if you cannot, you are of no use to me,” he said curtly.
“Family or not.” With those kind words, Peter left Cora to clean the mess. A little revenge of his own.






Stiles went back to the living room, leaving Isaac and Scott in an awkward moment, and entering one of his own.
Luckily everyone seemed to have dispersed from the living room. Except for a poor lonesome Cora who seemed to be cleaning up the terrible mess that Derek and Peter left behind. Though, the living room seemed to be more intact than he would’ve thought. Dirty stains were covering the sofa.

“What is that?” he pondered out loud. “Blood,” was the response he got, coming from Cora.
Stiles felt his knees wobble a little. He was feeling a little faint. He wasn’t certain why.
According to several lab tests, he wasn’t an anemic nor was he squeamish for blood. Still he felt wobbly.
“Don’t fall down now,” he heard Cora snicker behind him.
“I won’t,” he calmly replied.
Stiles steadied himself and shuffled towards the stairs.

Odd how they act like nothing has happened. Werewolves truly are crazy, he reminded himself.
Explains Derek…

Upon reaching the bathroom down the hallway, across from the living room, Stiles made sure to stomp a little, so Derek would know he was there— and not be you know surprised or caught doing something he shouldn’t.
Like last time, when he was sucking toes. Odd parafilia, he thought.

He knocked on the door out of courtesy and said, “Derek, I’m here!”
The door swung open, and a hot bodied, bloodied Derek was standing there, looking like a mess.

“Come in,” Derek said to him curtly.
Stiles hopped himself on top of the sink, right beside Derek, which was luckily not covered in blood.
“Isaac told me that you needed to see me?” he asked cautiously.
When Derek wants to talk, it isn’t generally a good thing, Stiles remembered. So he was apprehensive of what would ensue next. Derek’s nostrils seemed to flare.

Oh-oh, this isn’t good. Anger appeared to be brewing from Derek. Stiles could sense it.

“Did you know?” Derek had asked.
“Did I know what?” Stiles replied.
“That my sister, Cora, was still alive?” Derek’s chest was heaving, it was due to him taking huge puffs of air, trying to calm himself. Stiles chose his following words carefully and collected, “I knew Cora was alive, I didn’t know that she was your sister, and there was no way of telling you, because you were that wounded.”
Stiles gulped, “Can’t tell an unconscious man that his sister is alive and waiting downstairs. I don’t see why you are so angry Derek. It matters that she is here, safe and sound. Doesn’t it?” He let the sentence hang in a question, so Derek could perhaps see reason.

“I’m angry because I thought I had no family left,” he spat out. “Except for Peter, and now suddenly my younger sister is still alive? And part of Peter’s pack!”
“None of us knew Derek, the only one who you should hold accountable is Peter.”
“Possibly Victoria, but you shouldn’t blame or get angry at me or the others,” he calmly said. Derek still had trouble calming down.

For some reason he seems to listen to me.

This indicated that Derek possibly, maybe, started to trust him? Stiles eyed his mate, scrutinizing his current appearance.
“Let’s get you cleaned up first.”

Stiles took Derek’s hand, which felt oddly warm. It was also a weird sensation that this was actually happening. He was literally allowed, by Derek, to guide him. It made Stiles feel fuzzy inside. Stiles locked the door of the bathroom.

“Derek,” he said once. “Derek” he said again. “Derek?!” His hand reaching for Derek. Upon Stiles’ touch, Derek seemed to awaken from his daze.
“Sorry, I guess I was a lost in thought,” Derek looked at him completely lost.

Stiles turned around to see if the essentials were there. Soap, towel, a washcloth and of course the shower/bath combination.
“All right nothing else is needed, except for new clothes. I will get some once you’re set up,” Stiles said. He turned around to see Derek taking off his bloodstained shirt. A flush raced up his face. Derek’s pallor seemed golden in the light and well, his toned body was something anyone interested in hot bodies would stare at it. He even felt a little envious, his hand folding over his stomach.
“Ehm, couldn’t you have waited until I was out of here?” Stiles muttered.
“I have nothing to be ashamed of, do you?” Derek asked him suddenly mischievous.

Derek inched closer to Stiles. As if something was pulling the Alpha closer even more. Before either of them knew, Derek had gotten so close that Stiles found himself pinned to the door, with his mate in the crook of his neck. Stiles felt soft kisses strolling up and down his neck.

Someone clearly has lost his restraint, and I can’t say no, those thoughts were afloat in Stiles’ mind. They both were engorged on the amorous feeling of this moment. Stiles felt like he was overheating. Their bond strengthening the feelings and even making them overwhelming. Derek paused, and started shimmying his pants off.

Someone is clearly not wearing underwear.

Stiles, still looking flushed, felt awkward and turned around.
“I’ll  just ehh, go get you some clothes, and new underwear, from Paris,” he clumsily added, stumbling over his feet. Stiles unlocked the door and practically stormed out, the door clicking closed. Leaving an aroused and now lonely Derek behind.

Stiles practically crashed into his room.
Taking deep breaths to calm himself and another part of his body which apparently appreciated what Derek did to him. His body lusted for it, yet his mind thought it was way too fast. His connection to Derek was an emotional rollercoaster and he wanted to tread the path carefully, because this actually meant something to him.
I came this close to stepping into the shower with him— NAKED, his mind added.

Collect yourself! He yelled internally. This is too soon!
That was something his heart and mind agreed on, now that they left the pheromone infested bathroom.

He opened his trunk and looked for something that would suit Derek. He grabbed a pair of nice, sharp cut jeans with a black blouse. He randomly grabbed socks, socks weren’t all that important. Now came the hard part…selecting a pair of underwear for Derek.
What to do?!

Stiles turned around, leaving his room and stood near the edge of the stairs. Not knowing where Scott and Isaac had gone off to, Stiles went looking for the best next person he could think of.

“Lydia, Danny,” he yelled. “Come up here!”
Danny casually came strolling up the stairs, even though the entire house seemed abandoned earlier.
Lydia practically came running in a bathrobe and a towel wrapped around her head.
“What, what!” She yelled.
“Could you come with me,” he asked both of them softly.
Stiles heard the shower still running, so it meant that he still had time to select an outfit for Derek.

“So what’s the emergency?” Danny asked nonchalant. “You yelled like something terrible had happened, poor Lydia even came running up the stairs in a bathrobe and towel.”
Lydia glared at the snarky comment, but didn’t snarl back.
She calmly replied, “What’s the deal?”

“Well, uhm… I need to pick an outfit for Derek, underwear included and I uhh… can’t do it,” Stiles said clearly embarrassed.
“Because?!” Lydia asked. “I had to come upstairs for this?”
“I…uhh…Just can’t okay!” he practically shouted.

“Calm down” Danny told Stiles. “We’ll do this, won’t we Lydia?”
Lydia smiled, “Fine, I don’t often get the chance to pimp out a hot man, he will be man candy in our eyes as well.” A mischievous smile spread across both their faces, which stayed plastered during the process.
Stiles sighed from relief. He watched the twosome digging through everything Stiles had bought in Paris and what he already owned. Danny even went back to his room to grab one of the leather jackets he’d bought in Paris. After all, money wasn’t their biggest issue at least not now.  The trouble with his company at the back of his mind.

Bloody financers.

When they were done, all that remained of Stiles’ choice were the jeans. A tight knit grey shirt was accompanied by a dark brown, near black leather jacket. Danny picked the underwear while Lydia selected some pink socks, just to spite Derek for choosing Stiles over her.

“Done!” they said at the same time, and left the room.
“Good luck,” Danny said with a wink.
Lydia just smiled and went back to whatever she had been doing.

Stiles gulped down air, determined to not let what happened before, happen again. It simply was too soon.
He carefully grabbed the handpicked set by Lydia and Danny, as to not wrinkle anything. Though you can’t really wrinkle leather. Before entering the bathroom, he hung the leather jacket on the outside of the door. Hot and moist environments are not the best for leather clothing.
Stiles knocked carefully, not inclined to see naked body parts for the time being.

“Derek, can I come in?” Stiles asked. “Safely that is.”
“Come,” was Derek’s short reply.
Stiles entered, to see that Derek was wrapped in a towel that covered the lower half of his body.

I’ll just have to deal with this hot, wet body. He shook his head. No Stiles! Bad thoughts Stiles.
It had been too long since he had last “relieved” himself. Might as well do that later…
Stiles added it to the list of things he still had to do. He carefully hung the clothing over the towel rack.

“There is another present outside, but this will do, I hope it fits.”
“Listen, about earlier—”
Derek interrupted him, “No it’s fine. It won’t happen again anytime soon,” he said coolly. 
Stiles nodded and left the room.

So much for an emotional rollercoaster.

“Derek, I’ll meet you in the living room okay?” A grunt escaped the bathroom, Stiles simply assumed that was a yes.



Stiles headed towards Danny, who was watching TV. Oddly enough the Argents hadn’t cut off their water, electricity OR television. The internet was crappy here anyway, so he didn’t really care about that. Lydia also was in the living room, fully clothed and prepped. Looking perfect as always.

Cora seemed to be snacking on a sandwich.
“So where is everyone else?” Stiles asked.
“Jackson’s out,” Danny replied, “No idea where he is, or when he will be back.”
“Scott, Isaac and Victoria sneaked out to get something, our fridge is running out of food quite fast with this amount of people,” Danny said.

Cora finished chewing and added that Peter was walking the perimeter. He wasn’t feeling up to staying in close quarters with Derek. “He thought it would be better for everyone.”
Stiles sat down and started watching Television as well. A series called “Teen Wolf” seemed to be on and Lydia and Danny were watching it intently.

After a while, he heard footsteps approaching, probably Derek’s.
Lydia quickly turned off the television with the remote and all three of them and Stiles watched Derek entering the living room. The shirt seemed a little tight but the rest seemed to cling to Derek’s skin snugly.

“Looking good,” Lydia said to Derek.
He nodded by way of saying thank you.
“Where is everyone?” The Alpha asked, looking around. Stiles rehashed the story that the others told him before.
“So there isn’t any food?” Derek scowled.
 Cora piped up from the kitchen, “You can have the rest of my sandwich Derek, I don’t feel as hungry anymore.” Derek sat down at the table and the plate was scooted into his direction.
Cora looked at him intently and dreamily, while Derek ate the sandwich.

Derek’s mealtime didn’t last long, he practically swallowed the sandwich whole.
The plate was put into the sink, for someone else to clean.

Suddenly the door was thrown open and Isaac with three bags of what appeared as groceries rushed in.
Next was Victoria with two more bags. They both had rugged breathing and it instantly set everyone on high alert.
“What’s going?” Derek asked with authority.
“Hunters,” Isaac managed to wheeze out. Victoria was in a much worse shape. Running on heels certainly hadn’t done her good.
“Where is Scott?!” Stiles asked in a panic.
His best friend still wasn’t here.
“WHERE IS SCOTT!” he shouted. Isaac managed to squeeze out another puff of air containing one word, “Coming.”

Canisters rolled onto the lawn. A silvery, grey smoke seemed to be coming out of it. Filling the air across the lawn. More canisters seemed to roll onto the property hitting the sides of the house.
Victoria’s eyes widened. “Close all the windows, now!” she screamed.
Everybody simply responded running up the stairs to close windows. Running into the bathroom. Even running onto the small attic to close the attic window.
The door was kept nearly closed.

A faint figure appeared out of the silvery mist. He seemed to be dragging someone while holding a handkerchief to his face. The body he was dragging was limp and blistered. Scott was dragging Peter along the vague mist.
“We have to help him!” Stiles yelled.
Victoria shook her hand, “Not we, you. We can’t go out there, it’s wolfsbane in aerosol form.”
Stiles grabbed a dishtowel, held it to his mouth and ran outside to help Scott drag Peter inside. Once inside, Peter seemed to be worse off than before. Being an alpha saved his ass this time. All the werewolves started coughing. The humans were looking around frantically for any window that might have been left open. Danny dashed upstairs, Lydia checked all the lower floor rooms. Scott and Stiles were tending to Peter and the rest.

Lydia returned first and told them that nothing was left open. Danny’s voice carried from up the stairs and informed them that everything was closed up there as well.

Then what else is letting in the fumes?! Stiles thought to himself.

“Air vent,” Victoria croaked.
Lydia and Stiles looked at the wall beside the front door. At the bottom side left to the door there was a  small air vent, that was letting in wafts of wolfsbane. They quickly stuffed it with towels, to prevent from anymore coming in. There wasn’t much else to do at this point than wait for the air to clear.

“Bastards,” Stiles hissed out of frustration. “It had been too quiet for too long, and now we know why.”
“Scott, keep them treated. I’ll stand lookout with Danny.”
They both stepped up the window sill. Careful enough and out of sight so that they couldn’t be sniped by one of the long range hunters.

What on earth are they doing, Stiles wondered.

“Lydia, get everyone as much water as they need please.”

She got up immediately. Glad to be of help, instead of sitting around.
“Ehm guys, they seem to be setting up some kind of black ash in a circle around the house?” She frowned as she focused on the guardsmen outside.

Stiles glanced at the werewolves. The older werewolves seem to recover slightly faster.
Hence Victoria replied, “it’s mountain ash. Makes it so that we werewolves cannot escape the estate. Though it’s quite stupid because we have four humans who can break the barrier.” She remained quiet, deep in thought.

“Ehm, I think they got that covered,” Stiles said. He immediately saw four guards continually patrolling the perimeter. “They really thought this through!” Stiles groaned exasperated.
“There is nothing we can do now, you guys can’t get out…and we cannot help you break the barrier because of the guards.” Stiles placed his hand on his head. Frustrated was one of the emotions he felt.
“Let’s not get to close to the window…and wait?”

“Wait where is Jackson?” Danny asked.
“Has anyone seen him?” Lydia, Scott, Stiles and Victoria shook their heads.
Peter made a gurgling sound from the sofa.
“What is it Peter?” Victoria wondered. “Do you know?”
“He can’t talk Victoria, his throat is still too damaged.” Cora replied.
Peter was fixing his stare on Stiles, a face full of sarcasm. Almost blaming him for not already having figured out the way to get Peter to answer. He didn’t know what Peter wanted. Three intentional stares and eye rolls later Stiles found the way.

“Blink once for yes, blink twice for no.”
Peter blinked. His face still contorted as if Stiles was the most stupid thing on the planet.

Nobody else thought of it dipshit, he thought miffed.

“Question one, do you know where Jackson is?” Peter blinked once. “That’s a yes. Okay.” Stiles thought of the second question. The questions have to be solely answerable with yes or no.

“Is he inside the house?” Peter blinked twice. “Is he outside of the house?”
Peter’s eyes rolled again, yet he blinked to answer the question. Stiles scratched his head. “But if he’s outside, then is he dead?”
Peter blinked twice. “Okay so he isn’t dead, but the guards haven’t seen him.” Peter blinked once.
Suddenly Stiles’ eyes grew wide with realization, “He’s outside the barrier?”

“But that means that there’s hope!”
The mood lightened in the room, even though the situation was still grim and dire.
All their faith was in Jackson, who was outside of the barrier. Hopefully nearby.

Chapter Text

The house was on lock down, with no way to run. The Argents had even taken their Wi-Fi away. Oddly enough the power was still on, but it must have been impossible to shut off just this single cabin without affecting the other cabins in the vicinity. The werewolves were recuperating and Cora was one of the first who mended. Victoria was second. Victoria arose from the floor and looked at the mayhem around them.

“We’re lucky they haven’t already punctured every side of the house with bullets.” She extended her hand so Cora could hoist herself off the ground. Everyone of the homo sapiens species seemed exhausted. 

It’s not up to us to burden them with this need, Victoria thought with compassion.

After all she is and was a mother, those feelings never left her. Not even after operation Red Storm Rising nor after getting bit by that cursed werewolf.

“Guys, why don’t you head upstairs and rest. Cora and I can take it from here,” Victoria calmly instructed the humans. Who were so forlorn that they didn’t even protest. Stiles dragging a barely conscious Derek up the stairs with the help of Danny and Lydia.
“It will be all right, get some rest. Strengthen, and if you’re lucky, you will wake up to see that everything is resolved,” Victoria reassured with a genuine smile.

The oddity of it all was Victoria regarding everyone as her own cubs. She only met them recently and had grown fond of them already. As a hunter’s wife you were groomed, trained and hardened. Of course you loved your own children but Victoria never could have loved Allison, as much as she can now, unrestricted from the hunters. She no longer has a reason to withhold her emotions. She also learned over time that her emotions strengthen her. The will to survive is only so strong. The will to survive combined  with love, is so powerful that she was able to withstand anything they threw at her. As long as she were to be reunited with her daughter and if fate allowed it, her husband. With a sigh  she positioned the men behind the kitchen counter. Cora helping her whilst doing so.

“Well at least they can’t get shot while being unconscious.”
Cora snorted, “I thought men were the stronger sex, guess they were wrong,” she said bemused.
“There is not much we can do for now, that is until Jackson makes a move,” Victoria explained to Cora, as Peter’s second. After a moment’s pause, her demeanour softened, “I suggest we write down what happened during our time at Red Storm Rising.” Victoria scrambled the kitchen drawers for papers and pens.
“You’d think that with the current technology, pen and paper are obsolete, but it seems it’s still better than the electronics.” 
Cora sat down at the kitchen table whilst Victoria walked over to the living room and sat cross-legged at the coffee table. Victoria knew exactly what to write but was constantly distracted by Cora’s fidgeting.

“Stop that dear,” she purred. Though Cora kept wobbling.
“Look, if you can’t sit still, or feel like writing then don’t. Go watch what they are doing upstairs instead,  and alert me if needed. I need to do this Cora. Not for me but for Allison. We might not be around much longer if Kate gets her way.”

Victoria figured that Cora perhaps already knew how she felt. So she wasn’t surprised when Cora didn’t intervene in her small rant and accepted her new task gracefully. Cora stood defiantly near the kitchen counter. Daring the Argents, taunting them and most of all observing them. Victoria’s pen struck the paper and the sound of rapid writing, filled the dreadfully silent room.




Stiles was sitting in his room, heart still pounding in his ears. The moment the stupid Alpha had gone down, he’d nearly gone into cardiac arrest. Because what the fuck had even happened? Derek getting constantly injured was one thing but his constant near-death experiences were starting to give him a cerebral aneurysm. Derek was positioned on the floor, cradled within Stiles’ arms. Whilst Stiles was worrying his lower lip to the point it was starting to hurt like a mother.

Derek slowly blinked his eyes, gazing up at Stiles. Stiles exhaled a breath he had been holding in for too long, “I’m never going to get you cleaned up again. From now on you’re going shirtless for all I care. I am done with your ass being put in danger whenever you put on clean clothes!” Stiles rushed out  in one breath.

Derek gave him a tiny smile as he nodded his head in agreement.




France, Argenton –2004
Laboratory: Red Storm Rising
Time: 02:00 AM                                           


Victoria’s eyes slowly opened. The light was a very bright shade of white.

Is this what heaven is like? She wondered at first.

After blinking a few times, her vision adjusted. She was on a gurney, which was being carted around by men in white lab coats. Her body felt too numb to move. Gravity was pulling hard on her body. At the end of the gurney, she saw two pair of feet with purple nail polish sticking out from under a blue cloth. She tried to wriggle her toes. The feet on the other end of the gurney responded. They were her own feet.

“Where am I?” Her voice croaked. Her head tilted slightly, trying to take in her surroundings. Sadly her body did not feel like her own. She was pushed through a set of double doors following into an open space.
“We have to hurry, she’s regaining consciousness,” one of the men in lab coats said. She felt that her fingers weren’t as numb as before. She tried wriggling them as well and felt them flex at her command. Two men in military suits hoisted her up and put her down on a metallic table. Victoria cringed upon resting on the tabletop.

It’s fucking freezing.

“Cold,” she managed to say again.
“Won’t be long now dear,” a familiar voice responded. The sound of footsteps coming closer thrummed in Victoria’s ears. Her head automatically shifted towards the sound. A familiar face was in her periphery, blurred at the edges.
“Kate?” She said.
“I’m not dead?” Tears started strolling down her cheeks. She had indeed become an abomination, something she had tried to avoid so hard. She had even said goodbye to her family and ended her own life, or so she thought.
“What happened?” She asked Kate.
“Well dear sister-in-law, I actually needed you for my research,” Kate replied coolly, eyes gleaming tauntingly.
“Gerard has been paying a little too much attention to my behaviour, so I haven’t been able to get my hands on a live werewolf in quite some time, except for this poor ditz of a Hale wolf.” Kate paused, “Dad rather wants them all exterminated instead, pity.” Kate’s face turned towards one of the cells at the far end of the wall. Victoria’s eyes followed her gaze but saw nothing, the light was too bright.
“Don’t worry, you’ll meet her soon enough. You will become the best of buddies,” Kate laughed haughtily.
“What have you done?” Victoria yelled angrily.
“Nothing special, I changed some of your pills into tic-tac’s and you only had a dose strong enough to knock you out, instead of actually killing you. You’re werewolf genes did the rest.”
“Though it was a little tricky, might I add, you woke up sooner than was expected and we had to catch you with a tranquillizer gun, but it was all worth it.” Kate’s nails ticked on the metal slab which Victoria lay upon.
“You shall be research subject number 32 Victoria. In case you’re wondering. Miss Hale over there was  number 2. So work hard and you shall survive long enough. Though, I would appreciate if you did not try to kill yourself here, it would just be a mess and a waste.” Kate turned on her heels and walked away.

Victoria never saw her again after that day, presumably Gerard was monitoring her a little too closely for personal visits.





France, Argenton –2004
Laboratory: Red Storm Rising
Day 7:  3:00 PM


Victoria denied any type of food or liquid the first couple of days. Only feeling the need to weep. At some point it had gotten so bad that she was force fed. Liquid being forced down her throat via an iv-drip. So instead of wishing to be dead rather than here, she preferred not be seen as weak and started eating and drinking on her own. Nothing seemed wrong with the food and water they brought. Her next door neighbour always accepted it gladly without any side-effects. She’d seen that much. The days were still rough. Her upbringing practically ensured that she must kill herself or make someone kill her if she ever were to be bitten. It was the hunter way. She decided to take it upon herself, as to not burden anyone. She was one of the leading women after all. Her heart silently ached for her husband, Chris and daughter Allison, but she also knew she would not be seeing them again if she chose to die. She had to see them one more time before finishing what she had started, self-righteous suicide. 

Day seven was the first day where they started the excruciatingly painful experiments. She saw some experiments being performed on her neighbour who turned out to be Cora Hale. Cora always seemed to endure said experiments as graciously as she could, until the pain would become so unbearable she would scream out her lungs.
The day before, they had chopped off all the fingers on her left hand. They sewed them back on without anaesthetics and thereafter they were monitoring her healing process. It was one of the less painful experiments they saw conducted. One of the scientist came up to her that morning. He explained to her that she would get her blood drawn, and then injections with certain chemicals would follow and her blood would be taken afterwards again. All she wanted to do during the conversation was kill the man. She felt her inner wolf wanting to claw his eyes out. Victoria and her inner wolf did not get along, for obvious reasons. They took her out of the cage, guns prodding her sides.

“Don’t even try anything funny.” The scientist at the metallic slab was physically nervous.

Poor man probably didn’t even know what he signed up for. She didn’t actually pity him though.

She tried to withhold herself from showing pain, or worse fear. If a lowly werewolf bred girl could do it, so could she. The doctor came closer with a syringe and two capsules. He stuck her arm with the needle and drew two capsules full of blood. Victoria smiled all the way. Victoria’s smile soon faded as they produced a weird concoction and poured it into an empty capsule. The minute she got injected with it, a searing pain arose at the entry point. She tried not to flinch. The inflammation spread through her body, as the concoction flowed through her bloodstream. The scientist monitoring her every move.

I will not give you the satisfaction of hearing me scream! She thought boldly.

She bit down on her lip, blood coursing down her chin. Even though she hated her werewolf side, her claws punctured the top of her legs.

“Experiment is inconclusive, we’ll just have to try again tomorrow,” the scientist said.
“Patient has lost too much blood to give a proper analysis.”

Victoria was thrown back into her jail, happy with her defiance and a day of rest and plotting.
Apparently the serum would be in her system until tomorrow evening, ensuring that she would sleep uncomfortably.




France, Argenton –2004
Laboratory: Red Storm Rising
Day 34:  1:00 PM


After several attempts of trying to restrain Victoria in any way possible, they finally succeeded to completely fulfil the experiment of the weird concoction. After a few attempts, Victoria found out it was a serum containing a fragment of wolfs bane. She started resisting even more from that point on. On day 34 they succeeded. They strapped her down, bound her hands in a way that she couldn’t claw herself. A mouthpiece was inserted so she couldn’t bite down any more and the few attempts of forks and knives resulted in Victoria only having plastic utensils. Today she had to endure, and the experiment was completed. The scientist wrote down his results and thanked Victoria for her hard work. However somewhere along the way, the scientist became cruel and seemingly lost his humanity. Victoria was thrown back into her jail. She and Cora both had a week ‘off’. Or so they were told.

“How are you holding on?” A gentle but rugged female voice asked. Victoria ignored it.

Werewolf scum, she thought.

“It’s fine if you don’t want to talk, I just wanted you to know that I know who you are, Victoria Argent.” She heard Cora shuffling towards her bed.
“You know, being a werewolf isn’t as bad as your people make it sound,” Cora continued.
“My whole family was burned down by the Argents, I was entrapped here and yet I have no desire to kill you for it. Just her…”
Victoria was intrigued and compelled to ask who she meant. “Her?” Was all she responded to.
“Yes,” Cora’s voice softened at the reply. “Kate Argent,” she had whispered the name because a direct threat to Kate could result into a death sentence. The person before Victoria always yelled that he’d kill Kate. Sadly she beat him to it, she beheaded him before he could even do anything to her.
“Okay,” was all that Cora got as a reply. 

After 34 days of trying to make contact with Victoria, Cora had finally succeeded. Victoria figured she needed her to escape this place.






France, Argenton –2005
Laboratory: Red Storm Rising
Day 127:  6:00 PM


Victoria has now survived longer than any of her predecessors, bar Cora. A lot has happened these past months. Cora helped Victoria deal with her issue of getting out. Victoria still wishes to escape, see her family and die the death she felt she deserved. Cora understood but the thing that brought them together  was their need to survive, get out, and find the family that might still be out there. They both pretended to accept their fates here, which also ended up in more privileges, such as dessert. A few guards even chatted cheerily with them. It was all part of their plan of course, getting in with the crowd, so to speak. They endured their torture in the so called experiments, but they were allowed more days of rest. Which they efficiently used to banter and conspire.

“Want a muffin? I’ll trade you one of the cookies for it,” Cora practically begged Victoria.
“Fine, just this once,” Victoria said. Tomorrow I’ll give her what she wants again, she sighed.
“I should really learn to say no to you,” Victoria said smiling.
One of the guards approached them, “Did you guys hear? A new scientist is arriving tomorrow, apparently one of the old ones died in a car accident.”
Cora and Victoria feigned remorse.  “No! Who died?” Cora asked.
“Who is the replacement?” Victoria asked in junction.
“Old man Steve apparently died, though speculation is, Kate got tired of him and decided to off him.”
“The replacement is apparently a woman.”

The guard scratched his throat and saw one of his superiors entering the room and quickly retained his position. Victoria and Cora acted natural, finishing their meals and eventually went to bed, there wasn’t much else to do.




France, Argenton –2005
Laboratory: Red Storm Rising
Day 128:  11:00 AM

This was the day where everything changed. The new scientist came in. Her skin was mocha colored and she had dark, sleek hair. She introduced herself as Kali. That first day with Kali was a slow day. They weren’t called out that late in the morning.

“Come with me,” Kali said to the both of them, not even having guards around her. They both sat down on the cold slab.
“This won’t take long,” Kali said with a warm smile. She produced two syringes filled with a clear liquid.
“It contains a vaccine that will inoculate you against sleeping gas,” she winked. Victoria and Cora were perplexed. Did they hear that right?
“Excuse you?” Victoria said.
“Quiet,” Kali snapped, her eyes a glow with a red glaze.
“8 PM tonight, get ready,” that was all she said. Kali got them escorted back to their jail cells. Kali herself was being extra friendly with everyone, keeping up the façade, but Victoria and Cora knew better.





France, Argenton –2005
Laboratory: Red Storm Rising
Day 128:  7:58PM


“What time is it?” Cora asked the guard for a third time.
“7:58 PM,” he replied curtly. “Why are you so fidgety?” He eyed her suspiciously.
“No reason in particular, just feeling excited,” she replied back with a shrug of her shoulders. Victoria kept her cool. She was far too trained to give away hints like this. At exactly 8:00 PM, canisters with gas rolled in. Nobody really had a reaction time fast enough to respond to the gas, they were knocked out pretty fast. Victoria and Cora had inhaled the gas as well but only felt a little drowsy, though  not drowsy enough to sleep. A pair of hands reached out through the dense smoke tentatively. Cora snarled at the pair of hands.

“Relax!” a female voice purred, “It’s just me.” A pair of red glowing eyes appeared in the smoke and the hands that had reached for Cora had claws on them. With a swift key card swipe, Cora and Victoria were out, being dragged along by the female known as Kali.
Once they were out, oddly enough unscathed, Cora said, “Why save us?”
“Trust me, it wasn’t planned but I needed it.”
Kali continued dragging the groggy twosome along, “We got to make haste, the gas will only last an hour tops and not everyone was affected by it.”
Victoria didn’t know why they were taken but she was glad to be out, free and most importantly she could finally carry out her final wish.






United States of America, LA –2007
Victoria and Cora’s apartment


Kali called Victoria earlier that morning. They had to pack their things and leave the condo.

“I quite liked it here, but Kali is right, we have to move on.”

When Kali had rescued them, she told them she needed Victoria and Cora to stay with an Alpha. She was monitoring the facility with her pack because Kate killed one of her own. Scouting the place cost the lives of every werewolf in her pack. Kali wanted to exact her revenge as well and the best way to do that, was with two pack members who knew more than any other.

“Kali also mentioned that she’d found two more members for the pack. Twin boys, about your age.” Victoria continued, “They apparently are quite strong so it will help with the brawns in the pack.”
“But that wasn’t the reason for leaving by the way,” Victoria stated.
“She found out that my family moved to France, so we’re moving there and try to pinpoint their location.”
Cora sighed and dragged along her suitcase.
“ I hope it ends soon though.”





France, Alpes du Sud –2008
French Cottage


After a year of research, tracking and also working to pay their wages, they finally came close the Argents residence. They knew it was near the mountain range of the French Alpes but that didn’t really pinpoint their location. A lot of land had to be scoured. Kali sent them out scouting, all four of them while she stayed home, looking at the maps. She had a contact who informed her of a contact that could possibly lead her to the Argent residence. For this reason alone, she’d sent out everyone.

Don’t want to give them false hope, Kali thought.

Three knocks suddenly bestowed onto her window. He’s here, she thought happily and naively. She opened the door, her guard up slightly, but she felt like nothing could take her, as the Apex of her pack. A man with a small brown beard and brown slick hair stepped in.

“Hello, Kali I presume?”
“Yes, who is this?” She asked courteously.
“Peter, Peter Hale and I regret to inform you I came to take your life,” and he lunged claw forward into her chest. His grip around her heart. Kali let out a ferocious howl, that would draw her pack members. Sadly it was already too late. Peter squished her heart as if he was squeezing an orange. Power flowed into him, giving him his long awaited and desired Alpha role. Peter howled the prime roar, that only an Alpha could muster. It wouldn’t be long before his new pack arrived.

Curious to see which puppies she has.

The twins stepped in first, who howled with grief. They tried to rip Peter apart, but he made them submit to him. Victoria rushed in as third, her mouth dropping at the sight of Peter. He was equally shocked. She turned around, looking back into the woods with a remorseful look. Cora came running in, rushing into the cabin last and saw Peter.

“Peter….!” She exclaimed, then she saw Kali’s lifeless body laying bloodied behind him.
“What did you do?!” Cora yelled out in shock, tears rolling down her cheeks. Victoria consoled her fellow pack members. Then she steeled herself for Peter, their new Alpha.





After Derek’s lashing out at Peter and his pack, Jackson had left the house once everyone had settled themselves. It was annoying to a whole other degree when every single werewolf in their pack could feel how upset their Alpha was. Derek’s behaviour had gotten outrageous at times when it concerned his pack and his way of handling them. He might have put them through the deepest depths of hell and back during pack trainings. Yelled at them, growled, threatened and sometimes roughed them up a bit. But Derek had never blamed his pack for anything. If anything Derek had always taken the blame, even if it wasn’t his to take. So for their Alpha regarding them like they had betrayed him was something Jackson couldn’t take, if he was being honest with himself.

Jackson had shifted into his werewolf form and headed straight for the woods. With all the commotion around them his wolf felt on edge, as if he were on the edge of a cliff and was about to be thrown off of it. He had tried to distract himself by surrounding himself with Danny and Lydia. And even going as far as helping Derek out with his feelings towards his intended mate. When normally Jackson couldn’t be bothered to give a rats ass about that sort of stuff. It wasn’t his business after all. But when it came to Derek, a happy Alpha meant a happy pack. Despite all of his efforts and everyone else’s in the end Peter had managed to fuck it all up. Of course he would, the shady bastard.

Jackson kept running faster and further into the woods surrounding the mountains. Until he had gotten so far away from the circus that he no longer could hear the deafening sounds of gunshots being fired over and over again. Of alarms going off, only to be followed by soldiers barking one order after the other to haunt them down.

Hunt who down? Jackson wondered to himself.

The Argents had them trapped, caged inside the house. Knowing full well that both packs were hiding inside the cabin, so why hadn’t they attacked? Why had Kate along with every other soldier run off into the woods on the opposite side of the cabin? It didn’t make sense. As far as Jackson knew they had been caged and cornered like animals. With nothing but the walls, their claws and fangs to protect them from bullets coated with liquid wolfs bane, target tracking ammunition, and hell probably even grenades. They were truly horribly fucked is what they were.

The further Jackson got the more his wolf started to feel at ease. The fresh air he inhaled through his nose didn’t smell like blood, death or decay for a change. It smelled like the woods, like pine trees, the rivers that bled out of the mountains. Jackson closed his eyes, letting the fresh air wash over him. Soothing his wolf, if for a moment engulfing himself in a false sense of security.

All of a sudden a body crashed into Jackson’s hard, the sheer power behind the blow throwing him across the forest floor. Jackson’s back landed harshly on a big rock, knocking the air out of him. Jackson gasped as his eyes flew open, staring into a pair of electric blue ones.

A beta, his mind supplied aghast.  

“Who the fuck are you?” Jackson growled at the male, who was still holding him down.
“Calm down, he isn’t a guard,” another voice chimed in from seemingly out of nowhere.
“He smells like the alpha,” the beta replied, looking over his shoulder at yet another set of glowing blue eyes.
“Get the fuck off!” Jackson snarled, heading the beta rock-hard with his forehead in the face. It sent the beta falling back. Hissing in pain as blood flowed from his broken nose.
“You broke my nose!” He barked outraged, his arm pulled back in a fist and struck Jackson square on his jaw. Jackson’s head hit the rock behind him hard, rolling from side to side as Jackson fought to keep his consciousness. The metallic and salty taste of blood seeping into his mouth.
“I said he isn’t a guard, what did you do!” The other one scurried towards them. Once his face came into Jackson’s blurring view, he knew he was losing his consciousness. Because this guy looked just like the other one.
“Hey! Stay awake,” he spoke urgently, slapping Jackson in the face as to keep him awake. Jackson wanted to tell him to fuck off before he tore him limb from limb, however at the moment he was too busy trying not to choke on his own blood. A second face joined the one before him, and he had blood on his face. Which meant Jackson wasn’t seeing double nor was he losing his mind. They were twins.

“Looks fine to me,” the bloodied beta scoffed with a roll of his eyes as he regarded Jackson.
“Why do you smell like the alpha?” The none-bloodied beta asked him.
“I’m not telling you jack,” Jackson spat through gasps for air. Turning his head and spitting the blood in his mouth. Suddenly the other beta advanced on him, his claws pulled back and he was about to strike Jackson again when his twin snatched it mid-air.
“Do you want him dead?” He sighed, eying his brother agitated.
“Yes!” The other spat exasperated, as if that much wasn’t already clear.
“Well a corpse isn’t going to lead us to the alpha, now is it?” He tried to reason.
Jackson snickered, “you’re out of your mind if you think I’m going to tell you fucking idiots anything.”

The beta closest to him didn’t turn around this time to see his brother advance at Jackson. Instead he put a hand across his brother’s chest and held him off.
“Do yourself a favour and answer the question. The way I see it you’re outnumbered and one of us really wants you dead,” he explained to Jackson. Jackson noticed said other werewolf smirking at him.


“You can kill me for all I care,” Jackson huffed and tried to sit up.
“Can we slit his throat already?” The other growled irritated, pacing back and forth.
“Why do you smell like our alpha?” The one before him urged him, yet again.
“I don’t fucking smell like your alpha!” Jackson yelled his voice booming through the silent forest.
“Yes, you do.”
“Listen you fuckwit, my alpha’s entire pack is with him with the only exception being me,” Jax gritted out. His hand reaching out to feel his injured head. 
“Who’s your alpha?”
“None of your goddamn business.”
“We’re not your enemy, just answer the question!” The formerly calm beta yelled at him, obviously losing his cool, his hand snatching Jackson by his shirt and pulling him close, in an attempt to intimidate him.
“Derek. Derek Hale,” Jackson replied with venom and pushed the beta away. At his reply the twins regarded one another bewildered, faces scrunched up in confusion.

“You’re lying!” The beta who seemed to have a massive twig stuck up his ass hissed accusingly, coming to stand still for a second only to resume his pacing once again.
“No he’s not, his heart didn’t skip a beat.” His brother argued, eyes not leaving Jackson’s.
Jackson rolled his eyes, “Duh,” he huffed annoyed, and pulled a leaf coated in blood from his own hair.  
“Why don’t we turn this game around, who’s your bitchass alpha?” Jackson finally snapped, getting pretty tired of them.
“Screw you,” the asshole scoffed disdainfully at him. Still pacing back and forth. What the fuck was his problem.
“You wish.” Jackson spat right back, levelling him with a scornful look of his own.

Who the fuck did this guy think he was, anyway?

Finally he felt his injury starting to heal, which eased some of the tension from his shoulders.
“Peter Hale,” the other twin before him replied calm, ignoring their little back and forth hassle.
“Peter bastard Hale is your alpha?” Jackson asked dubiously. Jackson wasn’t surprised really when the other twin— whose nose had sadly stopped bleeding— growled at him.
“He is, now tell us where he is!”
“Ethan, move aside!” The other pissy pants snapped and moved towards them. Pushing Ethan aside. Jackson grinned at him totally unfazed, and rose himself up to his feet.
“Where is he?” Pissy pants roared and went for a punch. Jackson was prepared this time around and snatched his fist crushingly with his hand, whilst he swung his free arm back and punched the asshole in the eye. Whilst the beta was recovering from the blow Jackson advanced at him and tackled him down. Canines bared and claws drawn out, as he roared in his face. The deafening sound reverberating through the forest, shattering whatever silent spell that had been cast over it. When suddenly he felt himself being hauled off.
“I will punch the both of you, if you don’t stop acting like idiots! Our alpha’s are related in case you two haven’t already figured. Let’s go find them!” Ethan hissed, scolding them for acting like a bunch of hotheads.

Jackson snorted, “figures you two would be in Peter’s pack,” he commented as he patted himself clean and straightened his clothes. Jackson kept his distance from psycho wolf and eyed him cautiously. He held his hand out and mentioned for them to go first, not trusting them for a second. Ethan started walking though his brother seemed to think differently.

“Like hell I’m letting you out of my sight,” he spoke resolute and crossed his arms in front of him defiantly.
“Fine, enjoy the view, dick.” Jackson retorted and started walking back towards the circus site. Hearing the beta follow him closely.





Kate, Chris, Allison and three teams of soldiers had run off into the woods after they had heard of several werewolf sightings. What Chris and Ally didn’t know though was that these werewolves were not from the circus. They belonged to the Department for Biological Defence Program: Red Storm Rising. Which meant that they were outsiders who knew too much for their own good. Also they could jeopardize everything Kate had worked for all these years. A part of Kate feared the idea of those werewolves on the loose. It meant chaos, meaning there could be more alphas, betas and omegas than they could ever anticipate. Though for the most part, the more dominant part, Kate yearned for the moment she could rip their hearts out. Cut them in half. Blow their heads off. Exactly like she’d done not so long ago to Derek.

The moment she had pulled that trigger, heard his yowls and mewls pierce through the sky, it had been worth all the hard work and effort she’d put in this business, and way of life.

After hours upon hours of searching the forest thoroughly, they had been unsuccessful in finding the escaped werewolves. Or any other werewolf for that matter. It left a nasty taste in Kate’s mouth. She’d never dealt well with failure. Kate decided to approach things from a different angle as she barked orders at the soldiers. Threatened them even to either get some results— hunting and slaughtering werewolves—  or end up as a result themselves.  

She took it on herself to blow Chris’ house to pieces. Wanting every single breathing thing inside it dead. Whether human or supernatural, she didn’t care. Kate was beyond caring about anything but the hunt. Derek had been just one cancer cell of the giant tumour that had metastasised throughout humanity. And she’d be damned if she didn’t get rid of them all.  





Present Day
France, Alpes du Sud
Argents cabin


“And the rest is history,” she muttered out loud. Victoria didn’t finish her complete story, but wrote a few important entries.

I’ll have time for more later.

She stood up and stretched her muscles. She felt a little sore from writing so long. Her hand felt a little cramped up as well. The boys seemed to be resting still.

“Men,” she muttered. She grabbed herself a glass and poured some orange juice into it. Victoria read the ingredients out of sheer boredom. A commotion was happening outside. She decided to check it out and stepped towards the window. Gathering near the front of the house, was a group of soldiers and Kate Argent. A machinegun was being set up fast and skillfully. As if it was an everyday job to do such. Victoria let out a gasp, as her glass fell to the floor.

“VICTORIA,” she heard Cora yell.
“I know,” Victoria yelled back. “Stay up there.” Adrenaline kicked in and her strength as well. She quickly dragged Peter upstairs, he was her prime target. The Alpha had to survive. Cora saw who Victoria dragged in and started towards Victoria, helping her putting the alpha down. Victoria sprinted downstairs, and noticed Kate putting ammunition into her machinegun. Tons upon tons of ammunition. Victoria’s breath was hitching from all the action. Sweat dripping down the sides of her head.

“Where is Isaac?” Scott asked.
“Victoria, where is Isaac?” He screamed panicked. Scott tried to dash downstairs but was withheld by Cora.
“You can’t, we swore none of you humans would get hurt.”
“Fuck,” Victoria yelled. She ran downstairs, doing her utmost best to get Isaac there. Then she saw her writing and snatched it as well. That is where Victoria went wrong.  Kate had completed setting up the heavy artillery and started pumping bullets into the house like a maniac. The entire bottom floor was being turned into a cheese grate. The hailing sound of bullets piercing and resounding through the cabin. Pieces of wood and shattering glass flying across the space. The entire living room exploded with white feathers as the sofas were blown to oblivion. Everything from the exquisite and expensive paintings on the walls to the decorative vases were blown into hundreds of tiny broken pieces. A single bullet hit Victoria’s shoulder first, the next grazed her side. She was determined to bring Isaac as promised. Hiding behind the counter, trying to think of something to do amidst the fray of bullets. Victoria decided then and there, that her time was up. Her story was tucked inside Isaac’s jeans as she carefully picked him up and ran for Isaac’s life, not her own. Bullets hit her in the back, in the leg, in the stomach. One even pierced straight through her and hit Isaac’s arm, but she protected him, using her body as a meat shield. She was only halfway up the stairs when she collapsed, Isaac being tossed only two steps ahead of her. Cora risked her life and dragged Isaac, but saw Victoria in the shape she was. Tears rolled down Cora’s face. Victoria glanced at her one more time, before her eyelids started to droop. She was slowly sliding down the stairs, which were sleek and covered with her own blood.

Mercy has finally arrived.

And unbeknownst to anyone else, her story would finally be told.

Chapter Text

The more they were getting closer to the circus site the more they became aware of the situation, which had gotten very out of control. Even more so than ever before, and that ought to say something. Meanwhile, miles away, they had been fighting like idiots when their pack’s were under full attack from atrocious psychopaths.
Jackson froze at the shrill noises coming from the machine gun aimed and firing at the cabin mercilessly. Who even did that? Jackson knew that Kate was all kinds of shades of fucked up but this was beyond insanity. Come to think of the fact that all those soldiers were just standing there, beside her, allowing for this to happen. There were no words for this. None.

How can they? Just stand by watching and letting this happen?

Even though the cabin had been werewolfproofed it wasn’t impervious and thus wasn’t going to last much longer. The front windows had shattered into thousands of pieces. The front walls blown to smithereens, scattered everywhere, and it wouldn’t be long before more of the lodge would start to collapse. They needed to do something, and it needed to be done this instant. The twins stood rooted to the forest floor as they stared horrified and muted at the sight before them. Their bodies tense, arteries and veins visible in the light casted by the full moon as they pumped with blood. Like a tight string pulled around their flexed muscles.

“What’s the plan?” Jackson asked the two betas next to him, the harshness of his voice cutting through their state of shock. Both slowly turning their heads to gaze at him. Ethan’s mouth worked slowly, swallowing around a lump in his throat as he glanced at his brother in query.

“We fight,” he answered Ethan’s unvoiced question firmly, not looking at Jackson. Ethan nodded at his brother and as if on cue they both half turned facing Jackson.
“So, are you in?” Ethan asked eying him expectantly. Jackson crossed his arms in front of him defensively, a skeptical look marring his toned features.
“I’m supposed to trust you two?” He snorted shaking his head indignantly.
“Yeah, you are. We’re werewolves just like you and if we wanted you dead, you’d be. Our alpha’s are stuck in there and there is no way you could handle them on your own,” Ethan declared, holding his fussy twin back.
“Fine, but you make one wrong move and I’ll drop you like deadweight,” Jackson spat uncrossing his arms as he started walking. However, Ethan’s hand suddenly closed around his shirt pulling him in.
“I’m Ethan and that’s Aiden. We should at least know each other’s names in case one of us dies, don’t we.” Ethan spoke with a wide grin, apparently thinking it was time to introduce themselves. Giving Jackson a pointed look as he awaited his introduction.
“Jackson,” Jax replied and pulled away heading towards the area. The twins gave each other an indistinguishable look before they followed suit.

Once they were close enough to actually observe what was going on they discovered that the entire area was crawling with guardsmen. Jackson was hunched behind a thick set of shrubs as his eyes scanned the sight calculatingly. Ethan and Aiden, both crouched beside him, were arguing in barely audible whispers to each other.

“What?” Jackson snapped, turning his head to glare at the duo, his hand letting go of the branch he had been holding aside for better view.
“Why aren’t they getting out of the house?” Ethan asked looking warily.
“Because maybe they might get shot, ten times over?” Aiden retorted.
“They’re too fast. By the time any of those humans would spot them and pull the trigger, they would be way out of their targeting aim. There has to be another reason,” Ethan argued, shaking his head whilst he hunched even further in the hopes of getting a better view— Jackson assumed. Following Ethan’s gaze Jackson’s eyes suddenly fell on a strange and out of place black line. It wouldn’t seem out of the ordinary to any outsider but for someone who knew this place, knew basically every freaking shrub, tree, rock, mountain— it might quite possibly be the answer. Following the curve of the line, Jackson noticed it was shaped in a very peculiar way. Almost a perfect circle surrounding the cabin, it had to be.

“Look,” Jackson elbowed Ethan pointing at the black line. “What is that? It’s circled all around the cabin.”

Squinting his eyes, Ethan, suddenly went incredibly tense. Eyes growing wide.
“It’s— looks like mountain ash,” Ethan explained, seemingly unable to look away.
“What’s mountain ash?”
“It’s a magical kind of ash that serves as a personal shield, warding against evil creeps like us,” Aiden explained flashing a brilliant smile. “Or supernatural beings in general,” he added.
“How the fuck do we get through it?”
“We would need magic,” Ethan answered sullenly, eying his brother sadly.
“We don’t have magic!” Jackson barked, eyes flashing blue.
“No shit!” Aiden hissed back, claws drawn out ready to attack if necessary.
“Shut up! Both of you, before we get killed!” Ethan growled lowly, pushing Aiden aside— who had gotten too close to Jackson for his comfort.

“Well, now what?” Jackson sighed heavily as he sat down on the ground. His shoulders slumping a bit in defeat.
“We need someone who has magic or knows how to use it,” Ethan confessed, looking from Jackson to Aiden.
“There is no one,” Jackson gritted out in frustration. Feeling his calm slip and his wolf rise to the surface.
“Are you sure? This is a circus of freaks after all,” Aiden eyed him pointedly, getting up on his feet— arms crossed in front of his chest whilst he looked down on Jackson.
“Do you have something you wanna say?” Jackson hissed, pushing himself up all of a sudden and facing Aiden straight on.
“Already did, though, not the point. But you obviously keep missing it,” Aiden informed, taking a step closer as well. “Are you sure there is no one here, who is a bit off? Has a different kind of scent, a bit lingering and almost tangible— yet buzzing with restless and adrift energy?” Aiden surprisingly elaborated on his question.

Jackson stepped back as his mind wandered off, thinking back on everything that had happened and whether he knew someone or had sensed such an energy. Coming to think of it, he realized he simply had not. The pack and Peter had been the only ‘freaks’ of the circus, and they were that, pack. Nothing extraordinary about them except for them being werewolves. Perhaps there was Allison to be considered, who had seemed like something more at times. Although she was a hunter’s daughter so there went that theory, obviously. Jackson had never seen any visitors who might have smelled different to him. But then again visitors never got much close to them, for the pack to notice any difference about them. Jackson shrugged his shoulders, heaving a sigh as he faced the twins.

“No, can’t think of anyone,” he admitted softly, feeling sorry and quite useless. Even if Jackson allowed himself to go as far as thinking they could kill every single guardsman and hunter, they still wouldn’t be able to cross that damn barrier. Not to mention the gigantic, metaphorical, hourglass weighing down on their shoulders, as every precious and much needed second passed away. Jackson’s entire posture was restless, feeling completely on edge. His foot tapping insistently with nerves. His gaze being pulled to every direction, unable to focus on a single thing for longer than a moment’s pause.

“Come on, Jackson! There has to be something you’re overlooking. The Argents have been able to put it together in the first place, so they must have had someone who could do that,” Ethan pressed, snapping his fingers in his face to pull his attention. Hell bent on getting more out of Jackson. As if he himself wasn’t already wracking his brains for any possible answer.

“We don’t know who that person might be, Ethan,” Aiden argued, uncrossing his arms. The nervous, jittery, energy seemed to be eating away at all of them.
“We don’t have the time to go sniff out every single one of them it’s— ”

Stiles!” Jackson suddenly interrupted loudly, eyes broadening and shining with something close to hope. Shaking his head in aggravation for not coming up with it before. Patting his sweaty palms on his jeans, he faced the twins. Finally able to concentrate.

“Who’s that?” Aiden asked, turning his full attention on Jackson.
“He has magic, I think…” Jackson shook his head in confusion trying to make sense of his thoughts— as if physically shaking his head would actually clear it.
“He has to— I mean, he healed Derek,” he stuttered, verbalizing the jumble of thoughts swirling inside his head. Starting to pace around and actually starting to believe what he was saying. Because it had to be true. There was no other explanation. Stiles was the key!

“Okay, where is he?” Ethan quickly asked, both twins closing in on him, fully focused. The previous disturbance of distress, visibly leaving their frames.
“He is—” Jackson stopped mid conversation at the sound of a truly vicious roar thundering from the cabin. All of their eyes grew wide with recognition of to whom that roar belonged. Peter.
“Where is he?” Aiden yelled in his face, shaking Jackson as if he were nothing but a mere ragdoll. As if he could shake the information out of him.
“Inside!” Jackson shouted, shoving Aiden off, and subsequently losing his footing. “He is inside!” He repeated alarmed, looking over his shoulder at the cabin and the unmistakable ear-splitting howls and shrieks that were being emitted from inside of it.
“We need to get him out, we need to cause a distraction,” Aiden started barking orders, pulling Jackson back on his feet and proceeded to pull both betas closer and held them there. “Two of us need to create a distraction, kill as many as we can, so the third one can go and find this Stiles person.”

“I’ll get Stiles, you two go distract,” Jackson agreed, hands fidgeting— getting ready to dart off.
“One last thing, we’ve got one shot. And that’s it,” Ethan spoke determined, standing tall as he eyed his brother. All three gave each other one final curt nod, before each darted off into a different direction.

Jackson headed straight for the back windows of the cabin, heart possibly beating in his throat. Stalking towards the cabin whilst staying within the tree lines— just out of view – Jackson was able to get as close as possible to the cabin. Reaching his destination. Feeling unbelievably lucky for having been up to Stiles and Scott’s bedroom, to know what side it faced. He remembered their room consisting mostly of windows and knew that was his one shot, one last opportunity. If Jackson could just pull Stiles’ attention or anyone’s inside the lodge for that matter, and to explain what needed to be done that would be enough. The moment the guardsmen in Jackson’s line of view went absolutely immovable and started sprinting off— the echo’s of more guns joining the shrill sounds of the machine gun— Jackson knew Aiden and Ethan had gotten their full attention.

It seemed like Kate’s aim had veered as well, as the nearly collapsing walls and pillars of the cabin were no longer under attack. Instead it seemed the entire circus was. Assumingly, Ethan and Aiden were running on the opposite terrain from the cabin, and Kate must be shooting in every direction to hit her newly found targets. Jackson grinned to himself in satisfaction when he heard several guardsmen screaming out in pain, only to be silenced soon after. Sue him for feeling relieved and glad to see his enemies go down. Because at the moment everything apart from his pack didn’t matter, his conscience had left the building.

“Derek! Derek can you hear me?” Jackson spoke, hopefully, loud enough for the Alpha’s ears to hear. Standing at the edge of the mountain ash circle as he awaited Derek’s reply.






After the impending attack it had taken quite a while before the two alpha’s had recuperated— and quite a sight was awaiting them. Derek stood quiet and utterly disturbed, as he watched Peter lose his mind whilst he ran towards Victoria’s mutilated body. Following stealthily after his uncle, Derek, watched as he came apart. Tears streaking down Peter’s face as his bloodied hands futilely, absorbed Victoria’s pain. Victoria coughed up blood, trickling from her lips down her paling cheeks and chin. Her eyes were shut from pain, skin pale as paper. Making the blood even more contrasting. It didn’t escape him when Cora ran to the duo, skidding to a halt and slumping over with heart-breaking sobs. She too trying to take Victoria’s pain.

Derek was so engrossed on his uncle’s small pack, that he had not noticed Stiles moving to stand beside him until he felt his hand being entwined with his mate’s. His grip soft, yet firm. Warm delicate fingers holding his in sympathy. Looking up to face Stiles, he was met with the most compassionate and understanding eyes he’d ever laid eyes upon. Then Derek’s attention was pulled towards Victoria when he heard her whisper soft and kindly to Peter and Cora.

“Be careful,” she spoke, barely audible, to Cora.
“Be kind,” her eyes gazed into her Alpha’s as she spoke the words, “thank you, Peter. Thank you for everything,” with that her final breath escaped her. Eyes falling shut, body going limp. The silence that followed was shattered by Peter’s utmost vicious roar, bone-shaking in its intensity. Cora’s head thrown back and yowling inconsolably, holding tightly on Peter’s arm with one hand and to Victoria with her other. Her entire body shaking unstoppably as she mewled bitterly. Without warning Peter rose to his feet, snarling incredibly loud as he headed straight for the shattered windows. Meaning it would put him in direct line of fire, it was suicide. As if his body was moving of its own accord Derek ran after Peter instantaneously, and being fortunate enough to be able to pull him back just on time.

“Let.Go!” Peter roared guttural, claws swinging at Derek. Piercing the skin of his upper arms.
“Peter stop! It’s suicide!” Derek slammed him into the kitchen wall, holding the outraged alpha in place.
“I’ll kill that bitch!” Peter snarled gnashing his teeth, trashing against Derek’s hold.
“Yes, later. When we aren’t under attack and trapped!” Derek promised, his tone steadfast. Eying the arm that was holding Peter in place, he eyed back into the crazed eyes of his uncle looking for confirmation.
“Peter, I need to know you’re not going to kill yourself if I let go. Not that I care but Cora does,” Derek finished his confession, his face blank and inscrutable.
After a long pause Peter finally gave a brisk nod, body slackening against Derek’s hold. Derek slowly lowered his arm, only to find Cora at his side. Eager to take his place. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying, her face streaked with tears. Derek stepped aside and felt out of place when Cora threw herself at Peter, enveloping him in her arms and crying on his shoulder. To Derek it was just surreal.

Feeling like he wasn’t supposed to intrude on this moment— it wasn’t a death directly affecting his pack, after all— Derek veered up the staircase going straight to Stiles. The moment his eyes laid on his mate, safe and unharmed, yet concerned, Derek dashed towards him. Pulling them into Stiles’ room, hands gripping Stiles’ face urgently. Pulling the slighter’s forehead towards his own as he breathed him in. Resting his own forehead against Stiles’ and closing his eyes. Stiles held onto his left hand, not pulling it away, just covering it with his own.

“Derek?” Stiles whispered worriedly against his lips. Derek opened his eyes, gazing into Stiles’ heartwarming golden ones. The alpha didn’t know what to say or how to explain his behaviour. Where would he even start. Before he had fully recovered from the wolfs bane gas, his mind had been too fogged up to even consider the fact that they were still under attack. That he had gone immobile from pain and that Stiles had carried him. The human carrying the werewolf. It felt as if Stiles was always the one protecting him, never the other way around. The idiot always threw himself in front of anything, to protect everyone else. Everyone but himself. And despite Derek’s thoughts on Peter or his pack, for that matter, Derek felt the loss of another one of them weighing heavily on him. Nevertheless, he was blatantly glad it wasn’t Stiles who had gotten hurt. Deep down he was so incredibly elated that it had been someone else, who just wasn’t Stiles. It made him feel so guilty and cruelly inhumane, but for the life of him he just couldn’t help the way he felt.

The huge swell of emotion hidden inside of him was boiling over. All the guilt, sadness, anxiousness, hatred— everything that had consumed him over the years, had been fueling the raging fire inside of him. It had been all those all-consuming and energy-draining feelings that had kept him warm day after day. The endless dark well of self-hatred in which he had kept himself captivated in. Though standing here, so close to Stiles, breathing in his scent, feeling the warmth of his skin touching his own… this was all-consuming. It made every dark corner of Derek’s mind and body fill with warmth, passionate heat, as light finally welled up in his heart. Evanescing all those feelings that had weighed down on Derek for oh-so long.
Derek’s heart was thundering so outrageously hard and fast, it felt like it was going to break out of his ribcage. Caressing the side of Stiles’ face, Derek lost himself in the depths of those mesmerizing, liquid golden eyes. Which held so much emotion, so many unvoiced yet clear as day shining in them ever so brightly. Derek hesitantly closed the small gap between their mouths. His shaky breath escaping his trembling lips as he kissed Stiles. His entire body felt as if it was struck by lightning. His heart pounding in his ears, the rush of his blood joining the sound. Derek felt Stiles’ unresponsive tender lips, gasping in surprise. Though it didn’t take long before Stiles kissed him back, and Derek lost his mind. Warmth engulfed him, a jolt of electricity running from their joined lips down his spine. Setting all of his senses on high alert. Derek was aware of everything, every movement of Stiles’ slender, yet firm body. The flutter of his lashes. The sound of his erratic heart beating in high speed. His small inhales for air, through slightly parted lips. Lips that were so soft and gentle. Derek found himself nipping at them, making them swell and colour red. God, he had wanted to kiss Stiles so much. Before, Derek had nearly lost his control in the bathroom, with Stiles’ eyes trailing down his body. The spike of arousal had been enough to pull Derek closer to him. To make his wolf yearn to get closer to his mate. Derek had never before wanted to kiss and just touch someone as much as he wanted with Stiles. The mere thought of it made the stoic alpha go blind with nerves. Hell he was terrified. He was terrified it would push his mate away. That it would be too soon. And god he couldn’t bear the thought of taking even a small step into the wrong direction with Stiles. It meant too much to him for that to be allowed to happen. But here he was standing, taking whatever he could get. Taking the comfort his mate so easily provided. Because the anticipation of it had him losing his mind. It was as if he had been floating in space, unable to breathe and slowly suffocating, only to suddenly be allowed to breathe again. The tight pressure on his chest, the dizziness in his head and the blurring of his sight, being uplifted— replaced with everything that was good. Everything that was his mate, to the point it felt like he was drowning in it. That it was too much but not enough at the same time.  

Derek! Derek can you hear me?” Jackson’s voice cut through him like a knife. Reluctantly, Derek stopped their kiss and pulled back. Casting a glance over Stiles’ shoulder at the outside. Stiles had stopped breathing as he eyed the alpha worriedly, biting his lower lip in concern.
“It’s Jackson,” Derek quickly explained, stepping aside and heading towards the window.

“Jackson?” Derek asked, surprised to see the beta. As Derek listened in on Jackson’s explanation, Stiles had walked up to stand beside him. Eying him curiously and getting incredibly nervous when the alpha went still like a statue.

“Derek what is it?” Stiles whispered softly, tugging his sleeve. Swallowing harshly Derek replied him without diverting his gaze.

“Jackson— he needs your help,” Derek croaked out, his shoulders tense with shivers going down his spine. What Jackson was asking of him here, was to allow Stiles to go out— out in the line of fire— beyond the mountain ash circle and help Jackson lift the spell. Or whatever the systematics were.

“With what?” Stiles, much to Derek’s dismay, eagerly asked. His willingness to participate to whatever it was noticeable.

“Breaking the barrier of mountain ash,” Derek heaved a sigh, feeling like punching himself for speaking the words. If it were up to him he would keep Stiles with him, save within arm’s reach.

“I would, but Derek I don’t know how,” Stiles replied looking sad.

“Jackson will talk you through it, he says it needs to be someone with magic.. or well a spark..” Derek finally turned to gaze him in the eyes apologetically. His hand reaching out for Stiles’. Grasping it securely in his own.

The corner of Stiles’ mouth twitched up into a half smile of disbelieve, “Derek, I’m not magic..” Stiles replied running a hand through his hair dejectedly, “I don’t have a spark. I’m your average Joe, plain human me,” he confessed with a shrug of his shoulders. Arm falling limply to his side.

After a minute of silent consideration Derek replied, “Nothing about you is plain, Stiles,” he looked up to glance at Stiles, watching the other’s eyes widen in soundless surprise.
“You brought me back remember,” Derek reminded him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.
“That wasn’t— ” Stiles started but fell short, his lips parted on an exhale of incredulity.
“Jackson promised that the guardsmen and Kate are being kept distracted by other werewolves,” Derek started, “he says there is no one at the back of the house and that he’ll— ” the alpha went quiet, unwilling to voice the necessary words. It felt like it was choking him, like he’d somehow swallowed shards of glass. It made his wolf ache and rage violently inside of him, for having to ask his mate yet again to step in where Derek, obviously, fell short.

“He’ll protect you,” Derek spoke in a gravelly voice, thick with emotions he couldn’t push back.

Stiles nodded his head fervently at him, “I’ll try. I mean anything Derek, anything to get out of here!” Stiles replied determined and before he had time to process what was happening next, Stiles’ fingers had removed Derek’s. Untwining their hands as he strode out of the room with newfound confidence.

“Stiles, I don’t want you to go!” Derek choked out as he dashed after Stiles, pulling him to a halt.
“Derek, I have to. You know that,” he replied softly starting to pull away.
“No!” Derek yelled, his grip tightening on reflex. Stiles’ eyes trailed from Derek’s down to his captive arm in the Alpha’s unyielding grasp.
“Derek, I didn’t ask for you permission,” Stiles retorted in a quite harsh voice. One that took the alpha aback, his grip giving way.
“Stiles, you promised!” He whispered, swallowing harshly. Looking absolutely heartbroken and perhaps a bit betrayed as well. Though the glint of emotion was gone before Stiles saw it.
“I know, Derek. But I also made a promise to get you out of here and that’s the one I’m currently trying to uphold.” His mate replied soft, yet undaunted.






Stiles left the Alpha behind in a state of melancholy though frankly he couldn’t be bothered much with it at the moment. When Stiles had made the promise to Derek, that he’d get the Alpha out— out of this godforsaken, nightmarish hell— he had meant it with every fiber of his being. A month ago he would have considered the task awaiting him outside impossible. Thought it absurd and insane. Never once in his current life had he thought himself to be anything more but a businessman. To accomplish more than what he already had. Especially the supernatural, he’d never thought it could be real— like staring terrifyingly back at your face real. Ripping throats and heads off real. Or landing in a decade-and-still-ongoing war between hunters and werewolves, real. For the supernatural to be even tangible. It was mind blowing in its insanity and atrocity.

Stiles clenched and unclenched his hands at his sides as he strode down the darkened staircase, his hand gliding featherlike down the banister whilst he descended. His moves smooth and deliberate, with his back turned to the wall. At the bottom of the stairs he halted in his steps, shoulder propped against the wall as he half turned in place, to see whether the kitchen set behind the staircase was clear— his feet nailed to the ground from anticipation. Once he observed that it was clear that there weren’t any guards or Argents inside the cabin, Stiles hurried into the kitchen. Remembering the glass door that led to the outside. As he quickened his pace to reach the door Stiles noticed Jackson standing outside, just behind the mountain ash. His hand fumbled with the door as his pulse picked up from hearing the echo’s of bullets. Jackson’s eyes shone a crystal clear blue as he awaited him, in all his stumbling glory. Finally Stiles was out of the cabin and was hurrying towards the beta.

“Hurry!” Jackson hissed at him, crouching down as his head snapped to the side. Listening in for something it appeared.
“Yeah, yeah! Okay, what do I need to do?” Stiles rushed out, his voice wavering from anxiety.
“Breathe,” a soothing and firm voice spoke from behind him, whilst a hand was placed on Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles’ pulse was racing, his heart felt like it had dropped in his stomach. Turning around to see who it was, Stiles felt like he was ready to pass out from relief when he saw it was Derek.
“It’s okay. You didn’t think I would let you come out here all alone, did you?” Derek spoke the question rhetorically. Stiles grasped Derek’s hand tightly in his own because he was so grateful at the moment.
“Stiles!” Jackson barked, a fist darted towards him. Only to be collided against a split-second visible barrier. Stiles jumped back in surprise, stumbling into Derek. Derek wrapped his arm around his abdomen and pulled him even further back protectively. A low menacing warning growl escaped the Alpha’s lips, directed to the beta.
“I’m trying to get you out, Derek. So stop the fucking cuddling and let’s get to it.”
“Stiles, you need to focus and block out everything and everyone. Just concentrate, on yourself and what you feel on the inside. Think of what you want to achieve. Concentrate on how much you want to break the circle, you have to genuinely believe in it. Imagine it. Want it. See it,” the beta explained quickly, his frame tense.
Stiles nodded his head fiercely and crouched down, knees hitting the dirty and gritty ground roughly. His eyes squeezed shut in utter concentration, his posture gone rigid from the pressure he felt. Every once in a while his limbs would spasm with nerves.

“It’s okay, you can do this. I believe in you,” Derek whispered softly to him, the Alpha’s hand gently caressing his back in comfort. Stiles didn’t open his eyes, just nodded his head. He took a single deep breath and willed himself to calm down. He could do this. He had done even greater before. Focusing on all Jackson had told him to, filtering out everything else until it became mute. Stiles concentrated on what he felt, what he truly wanted, to break this black circle. To break the imprisoning spell that held them captive. The more he willed it, wanted it, saw himself breaking it in his mind’s eye, the more he felt this buzzing energy. A restless, but perhaps strangely, a very excited energy deep within him. Aimless at first though before long— the more he concentrated— the more he felt it starting to have a direction. He could even feel the absolute wicked power radiating off Derek, and Jackson. The rush and intensity of it was mind boggling, mesmerizing in its eminence. Stiles wondered how someone like Derek could ever hold his composure and be so in control, whilst having such grand and almost impervious powers. Stiles took another deep breath and thought about his current mission. He opened up his mind further and aimed the spark inside of him beyond the powers that were radiating off the werewolves. Fixing it and narrowing the new senses he felt, down to one. The mountain ash barrier. Stiles saw himself breaking it, a gush of air blowing fiercely past it. At Derek’s little intake of air, he opened his eyes and saw that what he had just envisioned had actually happened. Stiles fell back on his ass in an absolute state of bewilderment and content. A small nervous but very much joyous laugh escaped his lips as he looked at the Alpha. Who stared back at him with eyes that held wonder and genuine happiness in them. The small but nonetheless radiant smile the Alpha gave him sent chills down his spine. Derek looked so beautiful, so indescribably different. Everything about him, from his features to the emotions that emanated off him were so genuine, so brutally pure and intense. It sent Stiles’ pulse skyrocketing. He felt himself flush, his whole face felt like it was on fi—

“Stiles!” The Alpha and beta suddenly roared simultaneously. Stiles cringed internally at the shrill and loud sound that emitted off them. A frown pulled at his eyebrows as he stared at the two werewolves in confusion. Derek had pulled him roughly and almost violently in his arms, eyes sickened with panic. The beautiful and enigmatic smile that the Alpha had worn before, completely destroyed. Stomped upon. Pulled through the mud and in its place was left a savage-like looking beast. Crimson glowing eyes boring into his skull. Arms and hands flailing as they pulled at his body mercilessly.
“What the hell!” Stiles spoke agitated but slowly— ever so slowly as if time was stopping— he noticed his voice came out way more clipped and gravel than he’d meant for it to be. A sudden sense of realization sneaked up on him, stealthily. A rush of several indistinct sounds taunted his ears. Following Derek’s gaze, the enthralling sense of complete happiness and rather dream-like sensation he had been in, evaporated. The spark he had been so focused on inside of him suddenly sent a jolt through his body and he became undeniably and horrifyingly aware of the reason behind the Alpha’s terror. A slow paced pool of blood was painting Stiles’ shirt and with every breath he took it was as if a new wave of blood poured out of his gaping stomach. Stiles felt his breath hitch in his throat now that he was aware of the vicious pain, it felt like he had been stabbed over and over. Every breath felt like another gut wrenching stab, draining him of his energy. Blinding him with pain.

He had been shot.
“Derek?” He whimpered frightened as tears rolled like hot lava down his cheeks. Swallowing around the lump in his throat, and it hurt. The movement, it hurt so, so bad. Stiles mewled from pain, clutching tightly onto Derek as he started trashing, his body shaking violently, his feet kicking at the dirt trying to get up. Sit up. Just get away. As if it were possibly to physically get away from the horrendous pain. Derek’s arms held tightly onto him, pulling Stiles in his lap as he got to his feet and headed straight back to the cabin. Jackson had taken off, darted for the shooter. Stiles’ arms dangled lifelessly in Derek’s strong hold, whilst the Alpha was trying to bring him to safety. Stiles let his head loll against Derek’s shoulder, slowly allowing his eyes to droop close.

“Stiles! Stay awake!” Derek hissed at him angrily, quickening his movements. A part of him, the more conscious part, wondered why Derek was angry at him. Although for the most part he was glad, almost relieved even, when the pain was starting to become rather dull. Ebbing away. A silent darkness, like an embrace, pulling him from his consciousness. The pure surge of panic that bolted through him, sent his eyes flying wide open. It wasn’t his own feelings that had pulled Stiles right back to reality, but the Alpha’s.

“Stiles, please hold on. I need you to fight it, okay?” The Alpha begged him in a choked voice, pained eyes pleading Stiles’. Stiles nodded weakly and decided to keep his eyes trained on Derek’s stark features. However, before they had the chance to get inside the cabin, the shrill sounds of bullets pierced the air, once again. Stiles felt Derek’s frame go terribly rigid— a bullet piercing the Alpha’s shoulder— and before either of them was prepared another bullet pierced through the Alpha’s skin. Derek fell to his knees, roaring fiercely as his body trembled and fought to keep his hold on Stiles. Out of seemingly nowhere three shots were fired, though, it hadn’t been aimed at them. With his last bits of strength Derek turned around to see Jackson holding a semi-automatic aimed at a— now lifeless— soldier. Three bullets punctured through his skull.

“Derek!” Jackson cried out as he hurried towards them, catching Derek just in time before his knees buckled from underneath him. Jackson took Stiles from out of Derek’s hold and scurried inside the cabin, laying him on the kitchen counter. Veering around the beta then proceeded to hurry to the fallen Alpha. Draping Derek’s arm over his shoulder, Jackson pulled Derek to his feet and hauled him into the cabin as well, pushing him back to lay down on the bar. That was the last of what Stiles saw before his eyes involuntarily fell shut.

Stiles could feel vague and strange emotions coursing through him like a flooded dam. None of which made sense to him, because they simply didn’t belong to him. Far, far away someone was screaming in agony. Stiles willed his eyes to open to find out to who those screams belonged. But partly he wanted that person to just shut up and let him have his rest. He needed his sleep. Sleeping was good. Much good…






Derek roared in agony, hissing as Jackson pulled the bullets out of his torn skin, using his claws. If there was one thing Jackson would never, ever, achieve that would be becoming a doctor. The beta was horrible, ruthless and impatient. If anyone got to be impatient it was Derek, the one with the frikkin bullets punctured into his body.  

“Stiles..” the alpha stuttered in a whisper. Casting a terribly worried glance towards his mate, his panic eating away at him.
“Still has a pulse,” Jackson replied as he dropped the second bullet carelessly on the bar next to Derek’s reclined frame.
“He’s… he won’t make it,” Derek whined, gripping tightly onto Jackson as he tried to haul himself into a sitting position. Falling to his feet, the alpha held unforgivingly tight onto the bar to keep himself up. He stumbled to Stiles’ unconscious body.
“We need to kick start your healing process,” Jackson observed instead, and before Derek could reply or process what was happening, Jackson had snapped Derek’s thumb, breaking the bone. Derek howled in pain and slammed Jackson bruisingly hard into the bar behind him. Growling thunderously in his face. Jackson rather rolled his eyes at him and gave him a pointed look as his wounds were starting to heal, finally.


Together they loomed over Stiles’ motionless body and started taking his pain from him. Dark trails ran up the veins of their arms, as they proceeded to take as much as their bodies would allow.

“He’s losing too much blood,” Derek croaked out in a raspy voice, his inner panic surging to the surface.

“I will get a towel,” Jackson replied as he hurried to grab one from out of a drawer.  
“You’ll keep pressure on it and keep on taking his pain, while I go and fetch Scott or anyone with a medical degree,” Jackson finally offered Derek the reassurance he much needed. Placing a gentle hand on Derek’s shoulder in compassion. Derek nodded his head, eyes not leaving his mate. He took the towel from Jackson and placed it on the gunshot, applying enough pressure to stop the bleeding.

Whilst Jackson had gone off to find help, Derek was gradually losing his bloody mind. He simply couldn’t lose Stiles. It felt like if Stiles were to die, Derek’s humanity would die along with him. Surely, they had not mated, yet, but even so Derek couldn’t imagine what consequences to that would be like. Perhaps he would go feral. Become like Peter, change into the most hideous and horrendous creatures that roamed around. The Alpha did not want to imagine all the possible outcomes that didn’t include a healthy and very much alive Stiles.

When Jackson at long last walked in, pulling an army medic along, Derek could feel himself breathe somewhat easier. Keeping the medic under a short leash— figuratively speaking, that is— they set about saving Stiles’ life. Derek’s hand clutched to Stiles’ the whole time, like a second instinct. His beta silently at his side, offering whatever the Alpha needed. The medic was frustrating and too clumsy for Derek’s comfort at first, however, as he focused on Stiles and examined his injury it seemed like he fell into his routine. Going on about his mate’s status, making observations about the immediate needed treatment and starting to put everything into motion. The medic got Derek to solely focus on what he could do, in order to assist the soldier. Making the Alpha temporarily forget about his former fears and semi-panic-attacks. And concentrate on the task at hand, instead. It felt so immeasurably right to Derek, to be able to help, be useful. Help Stiles fight and pull through his injury.

Stiles’ diagnose read as follows, he had suffered a great loss of blood but due to Derek and Jackson’s quick helping hand there weren’t any damages to any of his major organs. The bullet had hit the human just in the right place, so to speak. The position Stiles had been in had been crucial to his blood loss and the bullet’s position. If he had actually fallen forward, the bullet could have caused major damage to his body and had allowed for too much loss of blood, resulting in fatal consequences.






Peter was stricken with grief. His beloved Victoria was brutally murdered by Kate Argent. His pack was acquired through an unfortunate but necessary take over. Yet he instantly regarded Victoria as one of his own, even though he knew she was an Argent. Peter even knew, through Cora, what she did for her. He had nothing but sheer awe for who Victoria was. They soon worked closely together to achieve both of their goals, which coincidentally collided.
A hand touched his shoulder, bringing Peter back from his reminiscing and back into the harsh and cruel reality. His body tensed at the touch though, gradually, relaxed— still sitting slumped against a wall.

“Are you okay?” Cora asked him softly, concerned eyes trailing over him.

“What do you think?” Peter replied dryly.
“Sorry,” she said grimly.
“No it’s my wrongdoing, sorry,” Peter rarely apologized because he was one of the few who could oversee situations and generally everything worked out for him as he had planned. Victoria’s death was not part of the plan and it had shaken him down to the core. Through Victoria’s death, he omitted to her last words “Be kind”. He would genuinely try to be more kind, if just only to honour her last wishes. Especially to his own niece and nephew, and his pack. Peter draped an arm over Cora, consoling her as well. She too was experiencing grief, like losing a mother all over again. His gaze was grounded. He felt like weeping inconsolably but he was unable to shed even a single tear after already shedding so much. Instead his reddened eyes were focusing on the floor, so that everyone would just leave him alone. Peter had heard a door open and close when Derek and apparently Stiles retreated into their inner sanctum, namely Stiles’ bedroom. Isaac and Scott left Cora and Peter alone in the hallway, as they too retreated into Lydia and Danny’s room. Which left them alone, Cora and he. Not soon after, Peter heard smooching noises coming from Stiles’ room.

“Don’t they have any respect,” Peter growled muffled.
Cora just shook her head. “Don’t,” is all she said.

Anger cascaded into Peter’s mind. His grief turning into a hot, pulsing anger.

“How can they show so much contempt for HER death,” he exclaimed. His arm grew with thick veins popping out, while his fingers changed and shifted into a claw. Trying to diffuse his anger, Peter punched a straight hole through the floor. It helped partially due to the fact that the feeling of pain made him aware of his anger and helped him cool off. The other part was Cora clinging to him, calming and soothing him.


A ruckus was heard. All hell seemed to have broken loose outside.

Ruckus is an understatement Peter thought. Well played brain.

Gunfire and lots of yelling was piercing Peter’s eardrums. Peter peeked down the staircase.
“Oh god, what did he do!” Cora exclaimed, eyes blown wide.
“Who?” He rapidly asked, his senses already heightened and attuned to the apparent chaos.
“Stiles!” She yelled. “Stiles?” Peter asked confused.
“He ran out with Derek like five minutes ago?”
“The guns have been firing for ten fucking minutes already Peter, did you lose your mind or something?” Cora asked frustrated. Peter looked at her aghast.


Have I really missed all that?

I also thought the loud noise just started?
He had to get it together, his pack needed him.

Where are Ethan and Aiden anyway? A weird popping sound pierced their ears.

“The barrier is gone,” Peter stated aghast. 

He quickly dragged Victoria’s cold corpse onto the upper floor. “Let’s go,” he said pulling Cora with him, down to the lower floor— which apparently had lost its door. All the better for two grieve-stricken infuriated werewolves. They didn’t have to worry about potentially breaking stuff. Peter entered the frenzy on hands and feet, his claws extended and eyes piercing red. He let out a blood curdling howl which instantly made Cora shift. Even Isaac who stepped outside guarding Scott was wolfed out by the pervasive howl.

“Stay here and guard them,” he told Isaac.
“I know you really want to get in the fray and I am not your alpha, but please hold the fort.” Peter stood up straight, “And by the way, kill anyone you sense getting too close, let them have it,” he said almost giddy. Still struck with grief, his grief was slowly replaced for anger and most of all, a sweet taste of revenge. Cora stayed near her alpha to guard him, as well as ruining any strays who tried to get to him.
Peter went alpha mode, eyes glistening red and running on his hands and feet, or paws. Depending on how one would view it. He’d even kicked off his shoes and socks to get down and primal. The guards seemed to be running towards a focused point. Peter didn’t mind the situation one bit, it would mean easy picking. Though it seemed that the Argent force had increased threefold over the past couple of days. There even were hunters whom he had never seen before and their mercenary force had seemingly increased as well. Peter could only appreciate the sheer effort the Argents took for them. How unfortunate that it would be useless.

He ran full throttle to the men who were astray and running closest to him. Human speed was feeble and far more inferior than his own wolf agility. A black-haired soldier was close to him, still unaware of Peter rushing towards him. With a swift jab of his poised claws, Peter penetrated the back of the mercenary leaving a gaping hole in his abdomen. Blood exploded all over his clothes. He relished the moment. The soldier was incapacitated and left to his fate. His key objective was finding Aiden and Ethan first, and finding Kate second.

A soldier had trained his gun at Peter but quickly was thrown away by Cora. She always seemed petite but her strength was parallel to any other male werewolf. Peter nodded a gracious ‘thank you’ and continued his way. Seemed that soldiers were starting to notice him now, and they were quite in the open.
Luckily the main group seemed to be pouring onto circus ground, which would give him a lot more possibilities. Peter and Cora would have to herd the rest of them or incapacitate them. Peter quickly dashed forward and leapt slashing the legs of one soldier, tumbling forward to continue running in a crouching stance. He was in his prime, this was the sheer power of an alpha! He quickly dashed left, his back still hunched. The key to survival was trying to make himself as small as possible, seeing they were still on open ground, and getting shot was quite easy.

Peter quickly took out the two guards on his left, jumping at them with such an impact that they crash landed face forward onto the hard ground, rendering them unconscious instantly. The moment he landed, he felt someone place a hand on his back, leaping over him. It was Cora throwing herself feet first into the soldier raising his gun at Peter. The soldier didn’t even get a chance to fire simply because Cora slashed off his entire hand. The soldier screaming out his agony, as blood spurted from his open wrist.

“Better luck next time,” Cora simply replied while sweat dripped off her entire body. She too had lost as much clothing as possible, so she could be as agile and flexible as possible.
“I’m starting to work up a sweat,” she said with a sly grin.
“I can see that,” Peter replied curtly as he continued forward.
On his right there was a single person and ahead of that soldier were three hunters. He dashed towards the soldier, taking a bullet graze to his side.

If that is all that will happen, I shall consider myself a lucky motherfucker, with that in mind he slashed the soldier’s throat, and tossed his lifeless body onto the three hunters who got knocked over like a bunch of bowling pins. Peter did not hesitate to kill the hunters, they were the most vile of the entire group. Peter’s shirt was starting to become more and more bloodstained than it was before, so he shredded it and tossed it to the floor. He didn’t like the colour red anyway, though his shirt was white before all of this fuckery happened. He still reveled in the chaos that was this battlefield. It was HIS battlefield, he snarled at the thought. Peter felt like a valkyrie, raising chaos and hell onto the battlefield, except he was male and didn’t bring warrior’s souls to Valhalla.

A blood curling alpha howl escaped his throat, ensuring that his enemies knew death was coming for them, and to his own kin that their Alpha was coming. He’d already deducted that Ethan and Aiden were the cause of the chaos in front of them as more soldiers were strewn across the fields, laying wounded. They had the scent of Ethan and Aiden all over them.

“It’s party time, Cora. I assume you will still have my back?”

A curt nod answered his question. Peter went onto his hands and feet again, assuming the form that only he and a few other alpha’s could assume. His skin darkened, becoming black and bulkier, while his mouth shifted into a nozzle, where his teeth extended and sharpened. It only took a few seconds before Peter was transformed into one the most gruesome and scary-looking werewolves one would ever see. The gate of the premises was open and unhinged, and Peter dashed in, instinct taking over. As he dashed into the fray, he noticed his beta had easily kept up with him. The terrain was still filled with booths everywhere, making it a lot easier for Peter to pick off any strays and to keep himself safe. Blood was dripping down his side where he got shot. It didn’t hurt enough to stop him just yet. Adrenaline was still racing in his veins.


His eyesight was in a grey colour now. He could easily distinguish them from the dark. Peter dashed forward and then turned right at the second booth, his nose leading him towards the enemy. He sniffed three new scents ahead of him and instantly went for them. The first one died quite easily when he got bitten in the throat. Hot, spurts of blood gushed into Peter’s mouth, he was getting his fill. The second and third tried to run away after seeing his immense shape. The second one was chomped in the leg and dragged back by Peter. His hands were clawing into the ground, screaming and yelling. With a single vice grip of his teeth and a small shake, Peter snapped his neck. The third was the least lucky. Peter felt like toying with him. After a quick sprint he grabbed him by the foot and started shaking him around mercilessly. The poor soldier was crying out for help while Peter shook him, and repeatedly slammed the man on the floor. Peter ripped off the soldiers leg and an arrow pierced the forehead of his prey. It was an arrow from Allison, the hunter prodigy. She had another arrow trained at Peter but Cora jumped overhead, startling her so he could run away.


He raced around like a rabid dog, snatching up more kills and more blood. Cora had little to do. He found Aiden cornered by four hunters, one of them brandishing a whip. He flicked his whip and a lash appeared onto Aiden’s face, it swelled with blood immediately. They laughed and the hunter wanted to whip Aiden again— how unfortunate for them. Peter was behind them and his claws dug into the two hunters standing to the side. Then continued snapping at the neck of the one brandishing the whip. Three men were down before they even knew it. The last one was met with a chunk being bitten out of him by Peter’s giant putrid maul. He practically danced on their corpses, his claws causing damage all over their bodies. Aiden stood there aghast while Cora quickly and silently jumped down, grabbed his arm and dragged him onto the roof of one of the little shops.

“He’s a monster,” Peter heard Aiden exclaim.
“Only when he needs to be,” Cora replied. “Stay put and lay low.”


Peter had already moved onto his next target and Cora quickly followed, assuming the role that Victoria used to have in the pack. Namely controlling and monitoring Peter. Aiden was left alone and noticeably stumped by the sheer brutality Peter had.

“Glad he is on our side,” the beta muttered while he rested and tried to heal.

A cry of pain erupted through the area but was quickly muffled as Peter had found his next target.
He tried getting a scent of Ethan, as he had already found Aiden.

These enemies muffle the smell too much, better to kill them. Not that the scent of blood was actually helping him, he just felt so pissed off. The Argents really made a mess of it this time.


A few targets later— specifically hunters— Peter found Ethan, more wounded than Aiden was. They’d mangled him more, his arm seemed broken and Cora quickly hauled him up onto a safer place.

“Stay put,” she said once more while following Peter over the rooftops. The entire place smelled like death and decay to him, and he was glad to be the root of all this chaos and death. Still he didn’t feel any satisfying penance for Victoria’s death whatsoever. He would feel satisfactory after he actually killed Kate Argent. He didn’t sniff out a lot of scents.


Did I really kill that many already?


He smelled the Argent trio, cowering in the giant circus tent. Well, maybe not cowering, but Peter sure hoped so. He let out a rippling howl to let the Argents know he was coming. A group of guardsmen was cluttered at the entrance of the circus tent. For a moment he paused, thinking of the best way to attack. He decided for a flanking dash.

And if all goes sour, Cora will help.

Peter ran at his fullest speed, running in circles first, as to distract them. He then jumped through a wooden booth, surprising them and instantly taking out two soldiers. His left paw was lacerated during the jump. Making him limp a little. He quickly thrashed on as a bullet penetrated his abdomen.

Fuck! He howled out of sheer pain. Luckily Cora was already at his side, slashing the throat of the shooter. There were only five hunters left, and they opted to take out Peter as the bigger threat, which was a mistake. Cora sneaked up on them in the stealthy way only a predator could, and snapped two of their necks before one of them tried to cut Peter with a broadsword. He snarled and one of the hunters shrunk back.

“What is this monster,” he frightfully whined, just before Cora broke his arm and kicked him away. The hunter with the broadsword slashed and Peter dodged to the side, biting in his upper leg, which he then twisted, causing the hunter to fall and drop the sword out of pure agony. A swift kick to the head from Cora ensured that he couldn’t move anymore.


Cora placed her hand gently on Peter’s head. “It’s time” she said. Peter howled one last time then started shifting back into his human form. A bullet still stuck in his abdomen.
“Fuck,” he said mid-shift and plucked out the bullet with his elongated claw. He was buck-naked and Cora turned around, searching for a pair of pants on one of the dead hunters that would fit Peter. She tossed him something that simply had to fit, otherwise he would be out of luck and she would have to see her uncle naked. Both prospects weren’t favourable. When Cora turned around after a full minute, the pants seemed to fit Peter. They sagged a little but that was it.

“Let’s get this done.”

They entered the circus tents as certified bad asses. After all, they did just slaughter and incapacitate pretty much everyone of the entire army the Argents had to offer. Peter feeling smug, walked inside. Concealing any pain he actually had.

“Come out, come out where ever you are,” He singsonged though was met with silence.
“Cowards, ” Cora shouted whilst standing next to him.

Strategic wise, it wasn’t the smartest thing to yell and let the enemy know you were there, but they couldn’t care less. Peter felt unstoppable, and stepped forward, but he hit a coil and a terrible wailing filled his and his niece’s ears. They had placed those werewolf sticks which repel werewolves by sending out high pitched sounds. With great pain and suffering he stepped on one of them and had to drag himself to crush the second one. An arrow landed into his hand. Piercing right through his palm. Peter yelped and snapped the arrow in half, taking out the half that was still stuck in his palm. Blood trickled down his hand.

“Bitch,” he yelled. The arrow had come from a platform up high in the peak of the tent. Usually acrobats swung themselves in the air from there. Apart from the ladder, there was no way up there.


“Smart hiding up there, Allison. I hope you can get down fast enough when I kill Kate and Chris,” he taunted. A bright spotlight was turned on and aimed at the two werewolves. They were blinded and soon thereafter knives were hurtled towards them, Peter dodged to the right, while Cora dodged in the opposite direction. Cora’s ear was nicked by one of them.


“Nice throwing skills, Chris,” He purred. There still was no sign of Kate. Cora got up and started running into the darkness, the giant spotlight following her. This gave a window of opportunity for Peter’s trickery. He ran into the shadows, and went for Chris. The two quickly met and Chris aimed a right hook at Peter’s face. He blocked it with his forearm and threw a punch at Chris, whom parried his blow. He jumped right as Chris tried hooking his legs out from under him.

“You can’t get me that easily,” he retorted. A rough push tossed Peter aside, it was Cora protecting him. An arrow was stuck in the ground, right where he previously stood. He growled, “Cowards, and where are you Kate?” The entire circus tent was lit and there she stood wielding a battle-axe.

“Really? A battle axe? How cliché!”

Cora started going for Kate but Peter held her back.
“Let me do it.”
She stomped the floor out of maddening frustration as Peter walked towards Kate, claws drawn.

“Don’t interfere,” Kate said to her niece and brother. “He’s mine,” she purred haughtily. She swung down her axe, Peter rolling aside to dodge it. She hauled it back off the floor quite agile and heaved it to strike down again, yet Peter met her with his claws and pushed back. She spat at his face, playing it dirty and kicked him in the knees. The axe swung down again and Peter had to roll to the side again.

“Your tricks are getting old, geriatric man.”
Peter stared at her furiously.

“Can’t believe we ever gave you privileges, we should have put you down like a dog,” she snarled arrogantly.
“Well, I had to slay your army to get here, so excuse me for being a little winded,” he retorted.
She swung her axe sideways and Peter had to jump backwards. He wasn’t fast enough as a thin line spread across his stomach.

“You shouldn’t play with sharp objects Peter, you should know that,” she taunted again. Peter jumped forward and wrestled Kate for the battle-axe. They fell with a loud thud, Peter landing on his back, the axe slamming into the ground right next to his head, Kate on top of him. She quickly jumped off leaving the axe next to him. Instead she put up her fists and decided to go melee. Peter was fine with that, as long as he got to rip her throat out. Kate was far more agile than Chris was. She could easily throw a few quick jabs, following up with a roundhouse kick. He relished this moment, she was trying so hard, and he was actually having difficulties as well, his wounds making him flinch at every move, twist and dive he made. Yet he had lived for this moment. Kate punched him nastily in the abdomen where the bullet entry wound was. Peter fell back, yelling out his frustration and pain.

“That’s all you got? The big bad Peter Hale, on his back like a bitch.” Her foot was placed down on his throat as she leisurely grabbed for the axe. Peter was choking, struggling to get free while she put enough pressure on his neck to crush his esophagus.


“Not so big-mouthed now are we?” She taunted menacingly. The bitch loved to taunt, Peter had figured over the years. He grabbed her foot and flipped her backwards. Kate wasn’t so high and mighty anymore. Peter held her down with his left arm, while his right arm gripped around her neck. His razor sharp claws perforating her skin and throat ruthlessly. Blood started gushing out while Kate was drowning in her own blood.

“What did you say Kate? Can’t hear you over the sound of you choking on your own blood.”
He spat on her, “Victoria sends her regards, bitch,” with that he punched into her chest and ripped her heart out, claws digging into the bleeding organ and tossing it to the side.


An arrow hit Peter in the arm. “Fuck me! How many times are you going to poke a hole in me.”

Allison had already strung up another arrow, tears trailing down her face.
“I wouldn’t try that again,” Peter said with an arrow still in his arm.
He pointed with that particular arm, towards her father Chris whom was clutched by a claw at his throat.
“Or you might lose another one, so drop the bow and be a dear, come down.”


Allison hiked down while he removed the arrow from his arm. Her face contorted with grief and anger, as his and Cora’s face had.

“What now Peter? Are you going to kill us too?”
Peter glared at her, “I don’t intend to, if you cooperate. Think of it as a gift, given by one of my friends whom I held dear, and you killed,” Peter walked up to her as he bound her arms behind her. Cora did the same with Chris. They pushed the two-some outside of the tent and they walked past all the corpses Peter left behind.

“Sorry for the mess, I couldn’t help myself.”
Allison’s face looked horrified at all the death caused by him.
“I know dear, I’d have preferred to not do it this way, but you left me no choice. Their deaths are on you, not me,” he said curtly.
The rest of the way passed in silence and without all too much trouble. Aiden and Ethan had joined them, guarding their Alpha and monitoring the hunters. Soon their demolished cabin came into view.
“Recognize the place? It’s been redecorated a little.” Isaac was sitting bandaged, near the gaping hole that used to be the front of the house. Scott came running towards them as he pulled Ethan and Aiden away to get fixed up. Lydia and Danny came for Cora and Peter who waved them off.


“We’ll be fine, tend to anyone else instead.”


Peter pushed them inside the house and paused. “You see, we brought you to this place for a reason. In case you forgot to mention it to your dad Allison. Your mother was in my pack.”

Chris looked truly dumbfounded and aghast at the same time, his eyes wide from shock.

“You see, some things happened to her that were not quite as planned Chris. But I suppose sister dearest did not mention any of it, and young Allison didn’t know the full story either.”

Chris’ head sagged remorsefully. Peter took that as his cue to push a frightened Allison and a silent Chris up the stairs, into the corridor where Victoria’s body lay, bullet holes piercing her entire body like a grated cheese.

“This is what your dear old aunt and sister did to her,” Peter’s arm pointed at the dead corpse dejected. “No…” Allison started to whimper, her hand clasped tightly against her mouth.

“She gave her life for us,” Peter continued, ”and her wish was…well..” He walked into Lydia’s room and after a moment came back holding letters, which were slightly bloodstained.
“I guess you can read for yourself.”


Chris read it first, his face turning grim as he read the story of Victoria and Red Storm Rising. The atrocities that were done to her, all in orders of his sister. A deep sigh escaped his mouth, yet he remained silent. He then passed it along to Allison who wept more and more as she read.

“I didn’t know,” she cried, “I didn’t know!”

“At least she got the death she wanted, and now you know. This is as far as I can and will help you.”
Peter turned away and walked downstairs.

“You guys were fools!” Cora exclaimed, not feeling ready enough to leave things as they were.
“She only had love for you, and you murdered her! You knew!” She spat at Allison.
“Don’t pretend that you didn’t, you saw her in the woods and didn’t even give her a chance to explain, you instantly assumed she was evil and that she was supposed to be dead. You fled into HER arms, instead of your mothers. She was too good for you! The both of you,” Cora barked venomously, eying them with accusation and utter hatred. She slapped Allison for good measure and walked down the stairs as well, to join her Alpha and uncle, Peter.






Stiles was having quite some trouble opening his eyes. It felt as if he was awakening from a coma that had lasted for years, costing him most of his youthful years. His mouth felt dry like sandpaper, his throat rough like gravel. It hurt just to swallow. Stiles carefully wet his chapped lips. Groaning from the strain it put on him. A soft and gentle squeeze pulled his attention to his left hand. Willing and pushing himself, Stiles managed to croak one eye open and almost immediately shutting it at the brightness of the room. His eyes watered as he blinked furiously to keep them open. His gaze fell on the person holding his hand and he wasn’t surprised, really, to see it was Derek. Looking like he had aged five years in probably a couple of hours, days, maybe. The Alpha looked exhausted and worn, and way too heartbroken for Stiles’ taste.

“Hey,” Stiles uttered in a throaty voice, shuddering at the raspy and huskiness of his own vocals. Derek let out a deep breath as he eyed Stiles in complete relief.
“Hey,” the alpha replied softly, offering a small smile.
“You look like shit,” Stiles noted with a small smirk, plastered on his face.
“Says you,” Derek retorted, though his voice broke on the last word. He looked away from Stiles and Stiles could’ve sworn he saw a glint of dampness to Derek’s eyes. Though before Stiles could come up with a comment, Derek reached for the table next to Stiles’ bed— which he apparently was laying in— and picked up a glass of water. Bringing it to Stiles’ lips. Stiles couldn’t thank Derek enough for the gesture, drinking the water hurt his throat at first but felt like heaven to his dried mouth, nonetheless.

“Thank you,” Stiles smiled, eying the alpha appreciatingly whilst he set the glass down. Derek nodded his head at him.
“How do you feel?” He asked, eying Stiles worried. His hand caressing the back of Stiles’ comfortingly. Though frankly Stiles wondered who needed the comfort more, him or Derek? Stiles frowned as he concentrated on his body. Apart from his dry throat nothing did actually hurt. Which was odd considering he had been shot.
“Good,” Stiles muttered confusedly, frowning at the alpha. Though the radiant smile that lightened the Alpha’s features was enough to make Stiles forget about almost everything. Even if he had been in agony, that smile would have wiped his mind clean.

“Didn’t I get shot?” Stiles inquired after a long moment of staring like an absolute idiot at the Alpha and his stupid smile. And just like that the smile fell from Derek’s face, leaving a distressed look in its place.
“Yes,” the word was choked out of the alpha, who had cast his eyes away. Staring off absentmindedly into the shadows of the room.

“What happened?” Stiles asked when the Alpha didn’t offer any further explanation of his own accord.

Derek explained to him everything that had happened from the moment he had been shot. What had happened to the pack and Peter’s partial psychopathic killing-spree. Although, calling it partial was a very generous term for the other alpha’s actions and deeds. Last but not least, the reason behind Stiles’ healthiness and lack of pain was due to Derek healing him, constantly taking whatever pain Stiles had been in.





Stiles walked down the stairs, Derek at his side, as they eyed the others.

“May I suggest, we get the fuck out of here?” Stiles said on a sigh, eying the others expectantly.
“How?” Derek questioned from beside him. Turning half around to face the Alpha, Stiles offered him his biggest smile.
“Dude, we have a minivan that can be driven to our privet-jet,” Stiles dismissed Derek’s interjection easily.
“You have a what?” Isaac spoke up from the couch, eying Stiles incredulously.
“A minivan,” Scott repeated, beating Stiles to it.
“First things first though,” Stiles piped up holding his index-finger up in the air, “I want food!” He stated and cast a sneaky sideway glance towards Derek.
“What?” Derek groused from behind him, the silent hint not going unnoticed. The Alpha crossing his arms in front of him.
“Could I tempt you to, I dunno,” Stiles shrugged playing it dumb, “make something for the pack?” He finished with a shit eating grin, biting on his lower lip. Derek’s eyes followed the small movement and a glint of lust crossed his eyes, though before Stiles had noticed it, it had vanished.
“By pack, you mean you,” Derek accused, eying him warily. Stepping closer to him and crossing quite some boundaries regarding Stiles’ personal space. Gulping under the Alpha’s scrutinizing gaze, Stiles took a step back.
“Ah, come on Derbear, I was shot. I’m hurting,” Stiles pouted, flailing his arms about, feigning helplessness. Derek had gone rigid at the little nickname Stiles had so mindlessly muttered.
“What did you just call me?” Derek whispered in a chilling tone, as he suddenly hit Stiles against the wall of the staircase, his body flush against Stiles'. Stiles almost whimpered, tripping over his feet at the sudden movement and the look Derek was giving him, it was sending a lot of mixed signals to parts of his body. His pulse was racing and his breathing fluctuated increasingly.
“Alpha? Dear, nice, not-maiming-human-Stiles Alpha?” Stiles stuttered whilst his body glided ever so slowly down the wall, trying to get away without being too obvious about it. Of course it failed since Derek slammed a hand right next Stiles’ frame, keeping him in place.

“Did I mention human? I definitely should have mentioned human. Very much human, fragile, easily hurt— ”

Stiles was silenced by Derek’s lips, crushing almost bruisingly rough against his own. Biting and nipping at them, tongue lapping at Stiles’ parted lips, silently asking for permission to deepen the hot and mind melting kiss. Stiles actually moaned, like out loud audible to everyone in the cabin leftovers. He flushed and felt like he could die right about now as the Alpha had the audacity to smirk and pull away.


Why?! Stiles wracked his brains for a fitting answer but couldn’t come up with any. His entire physique was on edge, he felt too hot and bothered and all because of a stupid, yet completely wicked, make out session. Which had happened in front of everyone.

“That’s for thinking you can mess with me, with your pouting and innocent act,” Derek confessed as he removed himself without any trouble whatsoever and headed towards the kitchen.

“Oh my god, you rude asshole!” Stiles yelled after him, holding up a protesting fist in the air. Letting out a shuddery breath he let himself slump down the wall. Trying to get his pulse under control before his heart would have enough of him, and quit.








“No, mine!” Stiles slapped Derek’s hand away as the alpha reached to grab a curly fry off Stiles’ plate. Derek grumbled under his breath and threatened to bite Stiles. Though Stiles remarked that he wouldn’t mind that anyway and that had the Alpha backing off, eyes wide at the blatant comment.

However, before Stiles had taken a bite, Derek had beat him to it. Biting the curly fry right out of Stiles’ hand and giving Stiles an overly smug grin, as he eyed the Alpha like he had lost his mind.

“How dare you!” Stiles pointed a finger at Derek in feigned offense. To which Derek waggled his brows at him all cocky and smug. Before Stiles could go on a lecture about Derek messing with his curly fries, which the smug bastard had made for him, they were interrupted by none other than Lydia.


“You two! Everyone has packed already and is waiting on you. Get off your asses and save the flirting for the trip,” she scolded them, hand at her side and eyed them aggravated.


“Up! Up!” She clapped her hands in their faces impatiently, muttering under her breath about how she wanted to whoop their asses.





As the pack cramped inside the minivan with the Argents, following them closely in Kate’s Evoque— under Peter’s watchful gaze. They drove away from the circus site. Everyone silent as they rode down the single road that led away from the area.


Under Derek’s request they had taken the bodies of their fallen pack members with them. Casketed and put in the back of an army truck, driven by Isaac and Scott. Whom drove behind the Evoque, just out of precautionary measures.

Stiles took Derek’s hand in his as he silently tried to comfort the Alpha. Who had not spoken a single word ever since they had driven away from the circus. The stoic Alpha had not once glanced back, not even through the rearview mirror.

The trip to the airport passed without further ado. No one spoke throughout their whole trip back. Once they had reached their privet jet, Lydia had taken a seat next to Danny. Every once in a while making small talk but other than that the werewolves kept themselves quiet.

Although Derek had not uttered a word to Stiles, he hadn’t released his grip on Stiles’ hand. His grip would simultaneously tighten on Stiles’ hand but after taking a deep breath the Alpha would calm himself down, and ease his hold. Stiles whispered softly to him, talking to him about their trip, the airplane, the airplanes construction, emergency protocols and so on. Derek listened mutedly to him but once in a while would give Stiles a small hint that he was listening to him. The sense of gratitude coursing through their bond on Derek’s end of it. Stiles couldn’t begin to imagine how this all must feel like for Derek. What was going through the Alpha’s mind but their bond gave him, at least, some insight of it.

Chapter Text

“Stiles, a word please,” Lydia’s voice broke through the silence the couple had been in. Nodding her head towards the door leading to the other part of the plane, she indicated for him to follow her. Lydia walked away without glancing back at Stiles or the others. Whilst everyone else had been dozing off or plainly staring out of the petit windows, lost in thoughts, Lydia had come to the realization that more than half of them did not own a passport. Not only that matter would oppose their arrival in the United States but the caskets with the brutally slaughtered bodies in them would be the cherry on top. Thus Lydia figured they needed to come up with a plan and a back-up plan and a back-up plan for the former back-up plan.

Lydia strode confidently past the door and sat down at the luxuriously, large, seat around the conference-like dark wooden table. She crossed her legs and leaned back further into her seat, chin tipped up as she awaited Stiles. Soon after her did Stiles enter the compartment, closing the door behind him before he sat himself down across from Lydia. A curious look dancing on his features. Although, he remained quiet as he eyed Lydia expectantly.

“There are a couple of things that I thought I should inform you of, which need to be dealt with as soon as possible. Time is ticking away as we speak,” Lydia spoke calmly as she eyed Stiles calculatingly. “There is the matter of getting the packs and the Argents passports, considering they don’t have their own on them. And unless you would like to smuggle your new friends into the country I highly suggest you figure out a way to get them legitimate passports soon. Though with your connections in the diplomatic circles both in the States as well as overseas it is needless to say that it shouldn’t be much of a problem,” Lydia broached the subject without explaining any further. There was no need for her to lay out every single detail in the open to Stiles. This was a matter Stiles needed to deal with and he would be the best person in doing so. Much like their working dynamics within Stiles’ corporation, in the end it was up to Stiles to make the important, final, decisions.

“Last but not least, there is the matter of those bodies that your beloved mate insisted upon taking with us,” Lydia eyed her friend a bit agitated. “Don’t get me wrong Stiles but at the time it wasn’t my place to object to such,” at Stiles’ sudden souring face she quickly elaborated, “not that I have any objections, let that be clear. But, it is obviously not been thoroughly thought through. Considering we are carrying actual bodies in our privet-jet. Both of which mutilated to the point of being rather unrecognizable. Due to the military bullets punctured through and into them, like they’re frikkin voodoo dolls that have been the victims of a psychopath with too many needles,” Lydia finished, eying Stiles sternly.

“Well what did you expect me to say to Derek or the others when they asked if they could bring their fallen pack members, whom they considered their family might I add, when we were leaving? Was I supposed to say no, you have to leave them behind here to rot with no one to ever respectfully bury them, no one to come visit their graves, to show them their respects, is that what I was supposed to do Lydia?” Stiles spat the question angrily. His hands clenching around the arm rests of his seat.

Lydia turned her head to the side and stared out the window. A blank expression covering her face. She reached for the bottle of champagne atop a small table behind her seat, pulling it out of the ice-bucket, she grabbed a glass as well. Then turned and laid both on the table in front of her as she took her time in opening the bottle and pouring herself a glass. After taking a sip she finally met Stiles’ glare.

“Do not speak to me in that tone Stiles Stilinski,” she exclaimed holding up an index-finger. “Do you really think of me being that inconsiderate? Or that imprudent?” She exhaled heavily, shaking her head. “Don’t put words into my mouth when the only thing I did was making you aware of how the situation will look like to an outsider.”

“Because whether you like the way that sounds or not, it is exactly how it will seem to any person with a bit of common sense. Unless we have a stellar of an explanation for why those bodies are the way they are,” with that she finished their small talk, uncrossed her legs, grabbed her glass and walked out of the compartment, tossing her strawberry locks over her shoulder.

Lydia walked back to her seat next to Danny’s and sat down with a deep sigh.
“Didn’t go exactly as planned, huh?” Danny asked as he glanced at her sideways. Lydia shook her head.
“Frankly I don’t know whether to be bothered by the fact that he becomes so defensive towards me the second one of them is involved in the conversation or to admire the depth of his feelings for them,” she admitted, turning to eye her friend.

“Perhaps you should be both. Surely, he feels protective of them, now more than before. But, he should similarly be protective and defensive of you as well. The two of you have a longer history than he does with them,” Danny spoke gently, grasping her free hand in his. Lydia felt very grateful for Danny, not only now for comforting and understanding her, but for throughout their entire trip. During the shootouts and everything that had been going on the entire time, it had been mostly Danny who had been protecting her. Whilst Stiles had been too busy with Derek to be bothered and Scott being protected by Isaac. Everyone else had been playing their own parts elsewhere in the process of escaping.

Lydia had hid her feelings, her fears, her guilt and the fact that she had been deeply betrayed by one of her oldest friends in all this, namely Allison. Amidst it all Danny had been her rock to hold onto. To ease her thoughts, diminish her fears and comfort her where he could.

However, Lydia wouldn’t ever voice any of it. She would keep it to herself and deal with it as it came. Because in the grand scheme of it all no one needed her problems added to the table as well. She was mature enough to deal with it herself and get a handle on her problems, and instead of adding to the table to help where she could. Support whoever that needed support. She would be there for every single one of them, because that is what she always did.

Squeezing Danny’s hand, she leaned over and placed a soft kiss to Danny’s cheek, “Thank you.”





Stiles sat quietly in the conference room. He hated to admit that Lydia had a point. He was simply too stubborn to admit it. Plus, as he said, he couldn’t have said no to them. Stiles couldn’t bear with the idea that they would’ve left them there, or hurt the pack members after they’ve already had so much to deal with.

It’s the least that I could do.

Yet he knew he had to concede to Lydia partly. She has been and still is one of his best friends, and she wasn’t afraid to tell him the blunt truth. He loved her for it. It was an issue that would be dealt with, just not now. Something else had more urgent matters first. Stiles pressed a button underneath his seat. A blue light appeared and a translucent keyboard appeared onto the table. The main screen in the room revved alive, while Stiles opened his Skype. His first call was to a friend of his, that he acquired during one of his many searches of his father’s death. Stiles had befriended a young woman, who could make excellent forgeries. The call was sent, and luckily it didn’t take long when the woman picked up.

“Sybil,” Stiles said curtly. “I have a favor to ask of you.”
“I need a quite a large amount of fake passports, a.s.a.p. Like within now and eight hours,” he paused. “No make that six, and get them delivered at the airport.”
Sybil whistled. “That will cost you Stilinski!”
“I can do it though, just send me a file with all the necessary information.”
“Where do you want the bill?”
Stiles sighed, this was going to be pricey as fuck. “The usual place.”
“Got it boss, and come again next time, I like it when you call,” she laughed.

You sure do, as I pay you rather handsomely, he thought.

The skypecall was closed and Stiles went about doing what was needed. He grabbed his phone and walked into the cabin. Stiles glanced at Lydia and showed her a small smile. 'Later' he mouthed to her. He went up to everyone who needed a passport, waking some of them when needed and explaining what he needed from them. After requesting everyone’s birth date, birth place and full names, he returned back to the conference room. He sent Sybil the file with the info attached. With the given files on everyone, Sybil would be able to hack the systems where they were registered and thus into their old files and she would use those images and documentations to create new passports for everyone.

He’d met Sybil whilst trying to find the murderer of his father. Stiles had hired a private investigator by the name of Beauregard. It was an alias of course, quite a funny one, hence Stiles selected him. Beauregard was his personal P.I who also gave him the advice to contact any forgers that Beacon Hills had. Turned out there weren’t many. It’s how he met Sybil. Even though she didn’t really offer any useful tips about anyone who might’ve needed a forged passport except that there was a blond haired woman, he’d kept her information. It came quite in handy when he wasn’t technically old enough to drink or get into certain clubs.

Her usefulness was shown once again. She’d helped him take care of one of his problems. Now all he had to fix was the other problem. One which Lydia so pointedly had shown him. Stiles sighed, getting passports was one thing, getting two caskets of murdered people without too much of a hassle was another.

Stuffing them into our trunks is not possible with the rigor mortis.
We could saw them apart..
What the fuck Stiles! He thought astound. What is the matter with you, sick, sick person!

“That’s not an option..” he muttered to himself, shaking his head. Well, this would be a case of doing it the Stilinski style. Stiles jolted up in his chair. Two pairs of hands were placed onto his shoulder, scaring the shit out of him.

“Now, is later,” Lydia sassed.
“Sit down Lydia,” Stiles sighed, rubbing his temples. He looked at her, and felt himself soften.
“You were partly right Lydia, thanks for telling me the blunt truth, I really needed that. But I did what I felt was right. Sorry, do you hate me?”
Lydia looked at him a tad snobbish, though the look was replaced by an attentive smile. “I don’t hate you, Stiles, never have never will. But sometimes, if not often, you need someone to tell you the harsh truth and that someone is me, and that’s that,” she admitted, eying him courteously. Stiles leaned in for the hug.

“Careful with the make-up,” Lydia briskly voiced the empty warning. They embraced each other for a full minute before letting go.
“I assume everything’s taken care of?” She asked him expectantly.
“Ehm, yeah. Of course. I’m Stiles,” he replied with a crooked smirk plastered on his features.

A few hours later, and the plane had landed at the private airport. The sky looked crisp blue, as their plane touched down, its wheels connecting to mother Earth once more. The captain noted they had landed and was decreasing speed. With ease, the pilot brought the aircraft to a stop. Everyone glanced around. Waiting for the customs to arrive.

It was generally a fairly easy process. The customs would come aboard and check everyone’s passport and possible cargo. One of Stiles’ personal employees entered the plane before the customs arrived.
“Customs will send two people in a matter of fifteen minutes. Also, this package was delivered to you sir.”
Stiles accepted the package and nodded, sending his employee to grab the minivan.
He opened the package and took out a passport. He flipped through them and muttered, “Sybil did a great job here.”
Lydia looked at him cross-eyed. “Who's Sybil?”
“Ehh, she’s a person I met through Beauregard,” he shrugged, knowing what would come next.
“You’re not still paying him are you?” Lydia asked sharply.

“Ehh, no, not after our…talk.”
In fact Stiles was lying. After all these years, he still had the P.I working on his dads case, even after his friends advised him to just let it rest. To move on.

“Well, seems she was useful,” Lydia said briskly.

Stiles tossed the passports towards their appropriate recipients. He kept eying his environment nervously.

I’d planned for the minivan to be here already, now I’ll have to explain it to customs why I have two damn coffins in my cargo area.

“Shit” he muttered. He saw two men from customs walking up the stairs into his plane.
“Good evening ladies and gentlemen passports please.”

They slowly and thoroughly checked each and everyone while making small talk. Suddenly the minivan came and Stiles looked frantic. Scott and Derek who sat closest to the door had seen the van coming as well.

“Mind if I ehh, go smoke?” Derek asked, eying the man who had already checked his passport and was now glancing at Stiles’.
“No, not at all, as long as you do it in the designated area.”

 Stiles nodded at his mate, for understanding the situation.

“I think we’re all done here,” he heard the customs say.
“Ehh, sorry! I have a question.” Stiles quickly replied.
“What if I wished to import something from France, how would I get it here?” Stiles looked at the two gentlemen, whilst sneakily closing the shutter of his window.
“Well, that’s really not our area of expertise, you should seek council with your local customs instead.” The two men started to walk again.
“But why can’t you tell me, you’re working for customs are you not?” Stiles insisted relentlessly, clasping his hand as he eyed him with a superior air.
“Well yes sir, but..”
“Then why can’t you tell me?” Stiles interjected, now with a snobbish authority. “Or do you want me to call your boss instead?”
One of the men’s neck reddened, perspiration forming between the crinkles of old age on his forehead. The other simply sighed, frame slumping in defeat, “Look, we cannot help you any further with your case, you’re advised to ask your local customs area instead.”
Stiles peeked past the two men and saw that Scott had returned and nodded his head. “Well, sorry to bother you,” he said to the twosome.
“Have a good day!” They all said.

The shutter of his window was opened rapidly by him, as soon as they turned the corner and stepped onto the planes’ stairs. The minivan was gone, with Derek probably in it. His hearth thrummed with anxiety. That nearly went awry! His pace slowed, as the adrenaline left his body.
“Didn’t go quite as planned,” Stiles sighed, body going slack. Perspiration dripping down his face.
“Does it ever?” Danny replied.

Twenty minutes later, and an extra car, they drove off to where a guard let them past the gates. A white van was around the curb and they pulled their cars to a stop.
“You made it through?!” Stiles almost said incredulously.
“I just threatened them that they would get fired if it took any longer. Anything for Mr. Stilinski,” his mate said. A chuckle escaping him.
“Let’s go home,” he said more to himself and his friends.

They don’t have a home. Yet.

Stiles was driving his old and favorite Jeep. Scott, Danny and Lydia driving their own respective cars. He had Allison and Chris in the back. While Derek, Peter and Cora were in the minivan with the caskets in the back. Isaac was in the SUV with Scott whilst Jackson had accompanied Danny in his sexy Aston Martin. The twins decided to hitch a ride in Lydia’s sweet ass Crossfire.

Glad to finally see my place again. He thought to himself.
Sadly there is still too much to deal with, like the haphazard investors.

Stiles sighed. Why did everything have to happen all at once? At least the circus part was over with. It wasn’t completely done but.. Not wanting to be alone with his thoughts anymore, he turned on his spotify. Another luxury that he missed, he felt like being back in civilization at last. Stiles was listening to this new hype called Baby Metal when his phone rang. It was a cell phone number that he hadn’t seen in a long time.

“Hello Beauregard,” Stiles answered.
“Hello Stiles, I’ve been trying to contact you but was unsuccessful for a while, but Sybil notified me of your return.”
It was quiet for a moment.
“Yeah, my phone had issues, so what’s up?” Stiles asked though didn’t wait for an answer as he continued, “I hope my years of financing you, finally are paying off?” He inquired from his private investigator.
Stiles hadn’t let the others know, that he was still paying Beauregard to investigate the murder of his father. After all he did have a lot of surplus cash to spend. His friends had asked him to let it go but, he simply could not truly find peace, until the culprit would be found. Even if it would take another decade. Beauregard had scratched his throat noisily, so loudly that Stiles had heard it through the intercom.

“Well, as you so astutely pointed out, I was still being paid, so when I read about the hassle with one of the investors, I decided to investigate that instead. I didn’t want to feel like a parasite Mr. Stilinski.”
Stiles’ heart was thrumming, Beauregard wouldn’t call him without any reason. He checked his rearview mirror, where Allison had her iPod blasting music. Chris seemed to give Stiles his privacy, even though that was not quite possible in his narrow Jeep.
Beauregard, unaware of the passengers continued, “So I did some digging, and the investors seemed to be using a main account. Even though it was anonymous I had some less legal ways of checking it out. Eventually they traced it to one man named Gerard Argent? Who apparently shared this account with a female named Kate Argent?” Stiles’ heart stopped.
“Do you recognize these names?”
He felt sweat starting to appear, and a flood of anger rising.
“I will call you back,” he gritted through his teeth and anger-jabbed the cancel call button.

Stiles eyed his rearview mirror and angrily drove to the side of the road while breaking rapidly. Allison was flung into the front seat while Chris upheld himself. He roughly ejected his seatbelt and stomped outside opening the door for Allison and Chris.

“Get out! The both of you.”

Allison had a look of fear in her eyes. Chris just seemed annoyed as he stepped out of the car after Allison.
“We didn’t do it Stiles,” Chris spoke calmly.
“Didn’t do what? “Allison asked, looking from her dad to Stiles in confusion.
“Be quiet! The both of you!” he yelled.
Allison’s gaze steeled. Chris’ face was blank.
“I am sick and tired of the Argent family being behind all kinds of shit!” Stiles snapped. “As if the circus wasn’t enough, your horrible family turns out to be the investors that are also causing me shit at my enterprise! Here I thought that I was being forgiving to you two, for being played by Kate as well. But now this?! I can’t take it anymore! I don’t want to be tainted by your vile family anymore!” Stiles stomped back to his car. “You find your own damn ride to wherever the fuck it is you need to go!” He buckled up, the safe driver that he was, blasted the stereo and went pedal to the metal. A huge dust cloud formed, blowing straight into Ally’s and Chris’ face. Leaving them coughing and aghast. While Stiles drove the fuck away.






The entire trip back to the U.S. Derek had been overwhelmed by every single emotion that had coursed through him. It had been like his blood was made out of gasoline and the second they had left the circus, he had been lit alight. Everything felt wrong. All of his senses were being overwhelmed till the point where it all became too much. There was too much noise, yet, at the same time so much static. Too many scents. One would figure that after being exposed to all those various conditions and people, he had been exposed to over the years, he wouldn’t feel so out of his skin. So horribly uncomfortable. Though everything outside the circus felt wrong, in some ways he was leaving his territory behind. Despite the circus being Argent property, it was his packs. He was the alpha. Therefore it was more his territory than it ever would be the Argents’. But deep down he knew it was all wrong, it was all too twisted for him to ever wrap his mind around. Because, even though it had been his territory the circus had been his prison more than anything else, in every sense. Derek knew that he should feel relieved, feel free, happy, now that he had left that place behind and had escaped. Though once again Derek couldn’t control his own feelings and therefore couldn’t control the situation. Which was enough to put him on edge more so than before.

If it hadn’t been for Stiles’ constant, mindless, chatter, and his ever so calming presence Derek didn’t know what he would have done. After the whole ordeal with the passports, which frankly Derek hadn’t even thought of, Derek had gotten himself together. Enough to pretend and even convince others— and if he tried hard enough even himself— that he was fine. That he was calm, collected and fully functional. Therefore instead of holding himself the umpteenth pity party, he had made himself useful and gotten the caskets and himself the fuck out of the airplane, out of the customs’ sights and everyone else for that matter. Peter and Cora had been his helping hands in the process, although it left Derek feeling a bit ill-at-ease. Not that he minded getting to spend time with his little sister, not in the least bit. However, ever since Victoria had passed away, Derek’s only remaining family members had changed in irreversible ways. Although no one voiced it— and Derek doubted any of them ever would— they were no longer as close as they once had been. That’s not to say that they had been very close to begin with, though now that sensible distance between them felt even more tangible and real. As much as Derek willed himself to ignore it, to tune it out, it left a stinging pain in his heart to know that his little sister had become closer and more dependent of his uncle than she was of Derek.

Nonetheless, Derek would be a hypocrit if he weren’t to admit that he himself had grown closer to his own pack, and to Stiles even, than he had to Cora. Given the opportunity he wasn’t sure if he ever would be able to open up completely towards Cora, to truly confide in her. They had been torn apart from each other— of which Derek was well aware of being the fault of— they had grown up under dire circumstances. Influenced by what and more specifically who had happened to them. Thinking the other to be dead. The fact that she was now a part of Peter’s pack, was not to be forgotten. And if Derek had learned one thing about his uncle by now, it was not to trust him, not anymore. So the question remained why Derek would trust his little sister with Peter, when he himself didn’t trust his uncle. Perhaps because of the actual and genuine love he had seen in his uncle’s eyes for Cora. Peter didn’t care for Derek the way he used to, had not for a long time, and he never would again. His uncle had never actually verbalized the accusations but they lingered in the air, in the glances he cast at Derek. The way Peter carried himself around his nephew. It seemed like Peter had always been walking on eggshells around him— neither truly trusting the other. Both fully aware of those unspoken accusations, and Derek had taken the guilt, taken the blame, taken the hate and had harboured it deep within himself— and he always would.

Derek pulled up the van at the old Hale property. Peter and Cora sitting in the backseat. Regarding them through his rear-view mirror, Derek observed their reactions. Averting his gaze from them, he slowly pushed the break as his eyes refocused on the sight before him and scanned the territory. Whereas it once had been full of life it now looked abandoned, decayed, demolished.
The three of them stepped out of the van in utter silence, each staring at their former house, like a deer caught in the headlights. The pungent stank of rot, death and decay hit them hard. Despite the house being burnt almost a decade ago, the air still held a sickening tinge of scorched flesh to it. Or so it seemed. The once pristine white and tall standing windows had been shattered. As a result of the horrific fire most of the pillars on one side of the front porch had broken in multiple places and were barely holding up the weight they were supposed to carry. The front door had been fouled with graffiti. The absolute disrespect and dishonour hit him hard.

Derek reeled back in horror, his legs nearly giving out underneath him. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Peter moving closer to the house, Cora following behind him as if pulled by an invisible string. At last, Derek approached the house on shaky legs. Ever so carefully did he enter the house after Peter and Cora. His eyes gazing around the decayed and blackened building. The sight of it all hit him hard, crushing the air out of his lungs. Because everything was still the same, the same as they had left it whilst escaping the fire. The staircase feeble and a gaping hole visible of where Derek’s leg had been stuck in, as it had crumbled from underneath him. The family picture frames in the hallways fallen off their screws and shattered across the floorboards, the pictures long since incinerated. The doors to every room kicked in, scattered off hinges, where the firefighters had ventured. Searching the house for survivors in vain. Books, clothes, his nephew’s and nieces’ toys spread here and there, all torched to barely recognizable meaningless items. Somehow it had always seemed like a dream but standing here, the reality of it hit him like a nightmare.

Derek veered around and marched hastily out of the front door. His footfalls heavy as he quickened his pace. Needing to get fresh air. To get all those horrific smells out of his nostrils and lungs. Derek had approached the van, placing his sweaty palm against it for support, only to have it slid from underneath him, unable to support his heavy weight. He nearly doubled over as tears stung his eyes, gasping harshly for air. His heart hammering in his chest unforgivingly. Derek balled his hands into fists, claws puncturing the soft skin of his palms, drawing blood. The actual pain anchoring him a bit. Looking back over his shoulder, his eyes trailed up the house that had once been his home, now a wreck so grand it resembled his life in the most perfect way. Perfect in the way it was pathetic, dishonoured, worthless and irreparable.

A single tear burned its path down Derek’s cheek as he swallowed harshly, eying up to the crystal clear sky. It felt like he was finally saying goodbye, farewell. Derek blinked the hot searing tears away, and swallowed around the lump in his throat. He could hear Cora’s heartbreaking whimpers from inside the house as she broke down once again, Peter whispering soothingly kind words to her. Their hurting and grieving hit him like a tsunami, and he fell down to his knees ungraciously. Unable to hold himself up any longer.




It had taken hours before Peter and Derek had gotten the caskets out of the van, dug the graves, and buried their beloved fallen pack members. They had buried them in the old Hale territory, though, far away from the crumpled and neglected estate. Stones were placed to mark the graves, so they knew where they were buried, and where the actual headstones would be placed.

Afterwards they had driven to Stiles’ mansion in bitter and grievous silence. After they had dropped off Stiles’ van they had been warmly welcomed into Stiles’ house. The sweet, familiar, and comforting scent of his mate had hit him in full force as he had entered the mansion. Even though the place was unfamiliar to him and his wolf, still, Derek partially felt he belonged there, always had. To humans it wouldn’t make sense but to a werewolf entering a house smelling so strongly of their mate was incredible.

Although neither Cora nor Peter had spoken a word of their discomfort, it was clear in the way they kept to themselves and barely engaged in any conversation. After some conversing it became clear that they all needed to find a place of their own. Considering Derek wasn’t ready to move in with someone he had known for a couple of weeks tops. Even if that someone was his mate, it still didn’t feel right. He needed a place of his own, that was just exclusively his, for now.

Peter and Cora had made it clear that they were going to stay together, and thus live in a house for the two of them and the twins. Derek couldn’t blame his uncle for wanting his pack to be as near to him as possible, meaning all of them living under one roof. After all they had been separated from each other for quite some time.

Throughout all the discussions on houses, paperwork, insurances, taxes and whatnot Stiles had been a constant source of comfort and reassurance. Easing and eradicating any fears and worries they had. Letting them know that Stiles would provide anything for them if need be. Whether it be money, transport, or anything else for that matter.



“I like this one, it’s spacious, well maintained and has got all the right vibes,” Stiles remarked, as he turned to face Derek with a broad smile. The sunlight illuminating his features in a complimentary way, making his amber eyes appear golden.

“It’s too bright,” Derek complained sourly, turning to face the real estate agent and giving him a shake of his head.

“Then buy curtains!” Stiles huffed exasperated, whilst he threw his hands in the air. Refusing to follow Derek out of the manor. They had been house hunting for over three weeks now. In the meantime Derek had stayed at a motel a little out of town. Stiles had argued him on the subject, insisting for him to simply stay at his mansion until he had bought a place of his own. Going out of his way to make Derek understand that he didn’t mind and that Derek could stay with him for as long as he wished to. Though to Derek it felt like he would be intruding if he were to stay at Stiles’ house, and as much as his wolf liked the idea of being near his mate, it just wasn’t rational. Besides feeling like an intruder, there was a bigger more pressing issue Derek then would have to deal with. Being, his wolf getting too used to Stiles’ house. Their scents would mingle into one and that was a luxurious comfort Derek couldn’t afford if he were to move out into a house of his own in due time. He then wouldn’t be able to control his wolf, couldn’t afford of it thinking of Stiles’ house as his own territory. At least not yet, not until they were actually mated. Even if those weren’t enough of reasons, Derek couldn’t allow himself to take so much of Stiles’ life. Derek already owed his mate more than he could ever repay. Stiles had more than enough to deal with as it was. What with his company being sued, his negligence of his friends— which Derek was to be hold accountable for, though, Stiles wouldn’t ever admit as much or even consider the idea.

“Let’s go,” Derek replied curtly refusing to participate in any further discussion, and headed straight towards Stiles’ Jeep.

He watched as his mate reluctantly and noisily walked out of the manor, apologizing to the agent on Derek’s behalf. Then headed towards the Jeep, snatched the handle and jerked the door open with more force than it was necessary. Rolling his eyes, Derek sighed and got in as well.

“We’ve been at this for three weeks Derek!” He hissed out agitated the second Derek’s door was shut. “You keep coming up with some lame excuse and it results in us leaving over and over and over again.”
“Well it’s not going to be your house, is it?” Derek snapped, grinding his teeth as he exhaled sharply. Stiles sighed as he finally eyed him, hurt and the slightest bit of disappointment flickered in his eyes for a fraction of a second before it vanished. Derek’s jaw tensed and he looked away, starring out of the windshield.

“No, it’s not,” Stiles spoke impassively, turning the keys and starting the car. They drove in an uncomfortable and tension filled silence as Stiles drove towards the motel Derek was staying at. After a good thirty minutes, Stiles pulled the car up in the parking lot, leaving the engine running. Which meant he wasn’t going to get out and stay at Derek’s for a while. No, it meant he was heading straight back. Derek couldn’t help but feel a bit hurt about the fact that his mate was eager to get away from him. It had not been his objective to snap at Stiles in such a way earlier. It wasn’t even like they were fighting or had gotten into a huge argument. But Stiles had been right, though Derek just wasn’t willing to admit the reason for his behaviour. Derek had come up with one excuse after another as to why each house they had visited wasn’t good enough for him. None of them being the real reason as to why he kept disapproving each and every single one of them.

“Before, I said that I understood when you didn’t want to move in with me until you had found a place of your own. But honestly Derek, you’re living in motel for nearly a month and you keep fighting me on almost everything. So frankly, I don’t understand you anymore. I cannot comprehend how living here in this shitty rat hole is better than staying with me. Or how you keep saying that you want my help and my input on finding a house, but you dismiss almost everything I say and keep refusing any actual help,” Stiles heaved a heavy sigh and glanced at Derek, the helplessness he felt showing in his face.

“I think it’s better if you finish your search on your own,” Stiles spoke resolutely and casted his gaze away. Derek’s features turned grim and he was about to reach for the handle and step out of the car, deal with this another time or simply wait until the problem went away by itself. However that wasn’t going to help either of them and it wouldn’t make Derek feel any better about the situation either. Because sooner or later they were going to have to address this issue anyway, so they might as well get it over with.

“Could you just turn the car off?” Derek asked instead of taking the cowardice road.
“Why bother?” Stiles fired back, eying him expectantly.
“Because I would like for you to come in,” Derek forced the words out hesitantly, which was requiring a lot from him, to show Stiles his more vulnerable side. To appear weak in his mate’s eyes. Derek swallowed roughly as his pulse quickened at the anticipation of the answer he might or might not get. He was fully aware of the fact that Stiles was able to pick up on his inner turmoil, which only made things worse.

“Come in and then what, Derek?” Stiles demanded unrelentingly, eyes boring into Derek’s. Suddenly putting himself out there didn’t seem like such a great idea after all. It added more to Derek’s nerves, if he were to go back to his former plan now, he would seem more of a coward than before. Derek was already tremendously regretting not leaving the car. Obviously Stiles couldn’t care less about his hesitation. Perhaps he had made the wrong decision and should have kept his mouth shut. He had been about to explain to Stiles why he was being so reluctant earlier. But seemingly Derek had misjudged their actual closeness and should keep his thoughts to himself.

“Derek, talk,” Stiles interrupted his train of thought, his eyes softening from the hard demanding ones they had been.

“Never mind,” Derek replied giving a shake of his head and looking away as he felt his inner walls going back up. He turned away and reached for the handle, grasping it softly, when he felt his arm being pulled.

“Dammit Derek, could you just talk! It’s me, you know you can trust me, don’t you?” Stiles beseeched, his voice turning soft and slightly quivering at the last sentence. Regret and sadness flooding through their bond.

“I don’t know Stiles, I just don’t,” Derek admitted more to everything that was going on than Stiles’ question, and shrugged, heaving a sigh before he pulled his arm out of Stiles’ grasp and got out of the Jeep. He walked into his motel, dropped the key on the rickety and disgusting dinner table and shook his leather jacket off. Derek closed his eyes as he listened to Stiles’ Jeep driving off. The silence that followed felt like a heavy weight on his shoulders. Instead of feeling relieved of having been able to keep his mouth shut, kept his walls up, he just felt empty.

He knew it wasn’t what Stiles had wanted to hear. At the very least he could have confirmed that he did trust his mate, but honestly Derek was getting so many mixed signals that he just couldn’t comprehend what the heck his own deal was.

Derek rather wasn’t used for others to talk to him in such a way. To actually try and have a conversation without there being an ulterior motive. Without talking him into something or forcing him act to their volition. Finding his weak spots and using it against him.

No, Stiles wanted to talk to him, understand him, get to know him, help him, just because he cared. Even his pack knew when not to push him, but with Stiles it was as if he knew exactly what buttons to push and keep at it until Derek gave in. Until he opened up without getting his fingers burnt afterwards. Every time he would have a semi-panic attack when he confessed to something or spoke of his memories, afraid that this time would be it. That the joke would be on him. Kate had fooled him once, Peter had fooled him twice, who were to say Stiles wouldn’t eventually turn out to be a third. His wolf did, though. It growled and clawed at Derek angrily, wanting him to trust his instincts— like he had up until now— but it hadn’t been easy. And up until now he hadn’t been alone. Derek had been surrounded by his pack during his escape, he had been in a territory he knew by heart. But here… nothing made sense.

Peter, Cora and the twins had long since moved on. Bought a grand and beautiful loft for them to reside in. They had been able to even make a home out of it. Jackson and Isaac had moved in together and were even considering to attend college. Which meant Derek would be left without his pack, though he would never keep his pack members from at least achieving something, something that was actually good.

But Derek was the only one that had returned, and he was here physically, but mentally he was slowly and excruciatingly sinking further down in quicksand it seemed. Derek felt more lost than he had ever before.



Derek sat up straight in bed gasping loudly, eyes shot wide open, cold sweat trickling down his back, his shirt was clinging to his skin suffocatingly. Derek pulled at the offensive item until he was able to take it off and tossed it into a corner. His phone vibrating loudly on the nightstand. The sound of it had been what had woken Derek up. As he heaved a couple of deep breaths, he reached out for his phone. Already knowing who the caller was. As he answered, Derek closed his lips—to stop his panting— and tried to calm his jack hammering heartbeat and his breathing.

“Yeah,” he croaked out throatily, still a bit out of breath. Wiping the sleep and sweat from his eyes.
“Derek? Are you okay?” Stiles’ concerned voice came over the phone.
“I’m fine, it’s nothing,” Derek quickly reassured, untangling his legs from his sheets and getting up.
“Was it the same?” Stiles asked softly, implying the nightmares Derek had been having ever since he had gotten back. Correction, nightmare. One he had been having over the course of nearly twenty days. Every night Stiles had called him awake, calmed his nerves, and talked to him until he had felt at ease enough to go back to a dreamless sleep. The first time it happened it had been at 4 AM, Stiles had been losing his mind with worry. Had been hastily getting ready to get to Derek. But Derek had quickly explained to him that it was just a nightmare he had had. Nothing serious or worrisome. It had become routine from thereon.

“Yes,” Derek replied, walking to the bathroom and not even bothering to turn any of the lights on.
“It’s nothing, it’s fine Stiles. Go back to sleep,” Derek spoke with more vigour than he actually possessed.
“You sure?” Came Stiles’ uncertain reply.
“Goodnight Stiles,” Derek muttered, instead of giving his mate a meek reassurance.
“Night Der,” Stiles replied back after a brief pause— of consideration, Derek assumed.

Derek ended the call and put his phone away as he decided he might as well get a shower. He would throw the sheets in the basket the next morning, they were starting to reek, and Derek figured the cleaning lady would get fresh ones knowing he had nothing.

After a long hot shower— which had been the most luxurious thing to get back to— Derek was brushing his teeth, whilst mentally debating whether he should shave his beard, trim it, or just leave it, when a knock on the front door revved him out of his reverie. Rinsing his mouth, Derek put his toothbrush away, and was about to grab himself a pair of trousers when the knocking increased in its intensity.

Grumbling under his breath Derek left the trousers and headed for the door. Who the hell was knocking at his door at 4.30 AM, anyways? Just as Derek opened the door to see who the intruder was, he was pushed aside as the person walked in. Derek was about to pounce on him when he saw that it was Jackson, holding a suspicious looking bag in one hand and giving him a shit eating grin. His eyes trailing up Derek’s physique. Suddenly aware of the fact that he was just wearing a towel, Derek glared at the beta.

“What are you doing here?” Derek instantly interrogated, “what are you holding?” Derek asked as he vanished into the bedroom, quickly put his trousers on and then returned back to the living room.

“Well,” Jackson began as he put one hand on Derek’s shoulder, still smiling too much for Derek’s comfort. “Your mate called me and told me about you and you being an asshole,” Jackson rudely explained although before Derek could interrupt went on, “though what else is new,” Jackson rolled his eyes and pulled his hand back when he noticed Derek looking at it agitated.

The beta walked over to the dining table and hopped on it, it shook under his weight, and for a second Derek thought it would give away and collapse. But much to Jackson’s luck— and Derek’s lack thereof— it didn’t.

“Anyway, I brought the liquor and we’re going to celebrate,” Jackson finished, holding up the bottle, as if now his explanation made sense.
“Celebrate what?” Derek scowled at him, getting more annoyed with every passing second.
“The obvious?” Jackson stated, eying Derek as if he was missing the point. Which, frankly, he was. Sighing loudly and shaking his head Jackson eyed him with utter disbelief, “Celebrate that we escaped? That we’re free? We’re back in the U.S.? Killed those assholes?” Jackson elaborated, stating one statement after the other.

“So, it’s been a month,” Derek raised an irritated eyebrow at him.
“Exactly! And all you have done is bitch and moan, and be a total partykiller,” Jackson took a deep breath as he leaned back, shaking his head at him yet again. At Derek’s threatening growl, Jackson held up his free hand, and placed the bag he was holding with his other on the table beside him.

“I know, Derek. We all understand that the situation for you is more fucked up than it is for us, because you don’t do adjusting well and you don’t talk,” Jackson’s tone became serious and he sat up straight. Derek leaned back against the wall across from him, eying him with an unfathomable expression.

“I know, Stiles has been pushing you and Isaac and I haven’t really behaved much like a pack should. But, tonight you and I are going to drink. We’re going to get drunk, celebrate, and forget about all else,” Jackson stated more than he asked. “And in the morning we’re going to figure out what it is that you want. Not what all those assholes want, or want from you, but what you want.”

“We’re werewolves Jackson, we can’t get drunk,” Derek glared at him, heaving a sigh as he crossed his arms in front of him defensively. Trying to get out of this for the sake of getting out of it, but honestly, Derek had give it to his beta. It sounded like quite an appealing plan, one Derek actually found himself wanting to consider.

“Uhuh, that’s why I spiked it, d’oh,” Jackson raised an incredulous eyebrow at him. Derek frowned at that, he had heard of werewolves doing that to get drunk— spike alcohol with wolfsbane that is— but he had never done it himself. Jackson didn’t wait for his reply, instead he walked over to the cabinets and grabbed the plastic cups from the corner. He half turned around and eyed Derek questioningly. Jackson was doing that a lot tonight.

“What! It’s easy,” Derek rolled his eyes and walked over to the old couch to sit down. Sue him for not wanting to do the dishes. Jackson just shook his head and walked over to Derek, taking the bag with him as he sat down beside him. Laying out six cups in front of them, he pulled out a bottle of Tequila.

“Six, really?”
“Three shots each, stop bitching,” Jackson shot back and poured half of each cup full.
“I don’t want to nurse a hangover at 10 AM, Jackson,” Derek remarked, sitting further back into the corner of the couch.
“First of all, every drinker knows the rules to drinking but considering you’re,” Jackson stopped mid-sentence to eye him, “well, you, here’s the deal. You don’t mix your drink. Pick one and keep with it. Don’t go to bed on an empty stomach, then you’d be just asking for it. Last but not least if you’re really hammered, take a painkiller or two, but you’re a werewolf so deal with it,” Jackson finished and handed him a cup whilst he was holding his own.

“Cheers, to being free wolves at fucking last,” Jackson held his cup to Derek’s, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Cheers,” Derek agreed and knocked back his drink, then they proceeded with the other cups immediately after the first one.

After hours of drinking, walking passed a McDrive and ordering junk food, they found themselves laying drunk in the grass behind the motel, staring up at the sky— the empty bottle and happy meal boxes thrown somewhere next to them. Jackson had scolded him when he had wanted to order something he actually wanted, lectured that this was happy time and thus they should have happy meal. God his friends sucked. Derek had been too drunk to bother with arguing or threatening. So he had just went with it.

“I have a confession to make,” Jackson’s slurring voice broke the comfortable silence of the morning. Derek too lazy to produce any actual words just gave a grunt, meaning for him to go on.
“Isaac and I are contemplating to attend college,” Jackson finally professed after a long pause.
“I know,” Derek replied, without looking away from the sky, but felt himself tense up.
“Well, would you be okay with that?” He asked and suddenly turned to his side to face Derek. Though Derek kept his gaze right where it was aimed at.
“Of course,” he replied truthfully.
“Good,” Jackson let out a deep breath, and laid on his back again.
“We will visit though. As often as we can,” he spoke in a more severe tone, his doubts from before clearly dissipated.
“What about you? You never went to college either,” Jackson remarked.
“I’m too old for college,” Derek dismissed, eyes scanning the clouds.
“Bullshit, you’re never too old for college. Besides you’re a werewolf, even Peter looks young as fuck.”
“I can’t even decide on a house Jackson and you expect me of being able to attend college?” Derek snorted, shaking his head.
“I’m sure you’re more than able to attend college but whether you’d actually want it, is a different story.”
“What do you want Derek?”
“I don’t know,” Derek sighed, tired of people asking him that. “I just, every house I enter, I just keep thinking how it’s not the Hale mansion. How I am back but can’t really go back to how it was before,” Derek finally confessed.
“You shouldn’t go back though and you can’t,” Jackson’s blunt comment was like a punch in his face, knocking the wind out of him.
“You have to move on. And how and when you decide to do that, is up to you. But eventually you have to Derek. Isaac, Stiles, Cora and I count on you,” Jackson nudged him with his elbow and gave him a sincere look.
“I know, I will,” Derek replied, with refound determination and newfound hope.






Marin Morell had received a phone call from Deaton. Apparently, he had a mix of humans and werewolves who needed some counseling. Due to their situation and supernatural problems, he’d called in a favour. Marin Morell couldn’t refuse, plus it would refute her debt to Deaton. Besides, they were siblings so she would’ve probably said yes, if her brother had asked her pleadingly. She’d scheduled a full two hours for this specific group. It wouldn’t be enough but, it would get things started. Plus it gave her plenty of time to observe everyone. At two P.M sharp, they all arrived. Marin frowned, it was an odd sight to see. Rarely did a group as large as this arrive at the same time.

They’re either highly neurotic or they have one hell of a planner.

“Come in everyone,” she said with a kind smile. She led the group into a room that was set up with a chair for everyone. “Please take a seat.” Everyone was anxiously quiet.

I could even hear a pin drop right about now.
All right then.

Marin positioned herself in a way that showed that she was interested and open. She purposely sat a little forward, her hands lose.

“Hello everyone, my name is Ms. Morell. I’d prefer to be addressed in that manner as well. Since this is our first session, I’d like it if you’d introduce yourselves. To me that is, I assume that everyone knows everyone. Also I’d like to hear your favorite colour and age. Who will go first?” She looked around the room.

I need to break the ice fast.

“Ow, I forgot to mention. My favorite colour is black.”
She put on a warm smile, to help thaw this frigid atmosphere.
“Black isn’t a colour,” she heard someone mumble.
“I said black isn’t a colour, it’s a shade,” a young man spoke up.
“That is true, but I like to regard it as one, but since you’ve spoken out, what is your name?” Marin intentionally made an example of him, she would allow a lot, but her authority shouldn’t be undermined. Equality was key, but she had to show her role in this process.
“Well, I’m Stiles and my favorite colour is blue. The kind of blue that my Jeep is.”

She noted that he was a very fidgety person.
“I’m Lydia Martin, one of Stiles’ right hands and close friends. Colour red.”
This went on for a short while. Marin did her best to note each person’s peculiarities. She noticed that the reluctant males were all the male werewolves. Especially the Hale uncle and nephew were troublesome. The one named Peter had humored her by naming a colour, she knew that much. But the one named Derek hadn’t said anything about a preferable colour.

“Now that I have a name and a colour to go by, let’s start this session.” She intently looked around the group. “I shall do my best to remember your names.”
“Now I don’t know exactly what happened. So could you explain to me, why you’re all here?”

Instantly six or seven people started talking.

“Sorry, let me rephrase that,” Marin said raising her voice. “Can one of you, or at least in turn, tell me what I need to know.”
Everyone looked at each other.
“I’ll tell you,” Danny piped up. “I have been an observer to most of this, more than anyone.”
He looked around the group. “But you can fill in the blanks, if needed guys.” Danny told her how they had planned a trip, the four of them. Followed by how they met the Argents— who were not present for obvious reasons. Furthermore, he explained how they met the werewolves and whilst doing so he let Stiles and Scott fill in the gap about their discoveries. At one point Isaac jumped in telling about Erica’s death.

So far it’s been shallow structure. I need to get this to a deeper structure.

“What did her death do to you Isaac?” She intervened, eying Isaac observingly. This caught the group off-guard. Simply because Marin hadn’t spoken a word and now she had suddenly caught them by surprise by asking something quite personal.
“What do you think it did to me?” Isaac replied with venom, his posture tensing.
“It broke me.”
Morell noted that Scott had placed his hand on Isaac’s leg. Soothing him. Her eyebrow quirked up.

It appears they have a thing?
So this..Mate bond goes further than…

She shifted her attention to the group. “How do you feel, as a group, as he mentions this?”
“It pisses me off.” Scott was the one saying it. “The Argents broke so many moral laws on the estate. Regardless of whether I liked Allison or not, it’s just wrong.”
“Taking human lives is wrong.”
“But she wasn’t a human, she was one of us.” This was coming from one of the other werewolves, named Jackson.
“You can be all mooshy and sad about the moral laws, all that matters to me is that she was pack. Pack comes before blood or family and the Argents killed her.” Jackson caused a huge discussion to break out.

Exactly what I wanted.

Morell had seized the moment to go into a depth structure, one that is necessary for group conversations. Then she followed up using system therapy, which not only made it a group problem. It also strengthened their bonds. Then she had to uphold the com-com structure of the group by making them talk to each other and not via her. So she intentionally focused her gaze onto the floor, and made herself small so they wouldn’t notice. At one point, she almost intervened but Peter stepped in to soothe things. There was one person who hadn’t said a word through the entire discussion – Derek Hale. She wrapped things up, because their time was almost up.

“Well, good work everyone. We’ll pick up the rest of story next week at our second session. You’re all dismissed. Except for you Derek. I’d like to have a word with you in private please.”
A grunt escaped from him, but one look from Stiles and he walked towards her.

Interesting, maybe he is the key to Derek.

“Derek, you haven’t said a word after your introduction, which you were already reluctant of doing. Why is that?”

His gaze what directed at the wall behind her, “No reason,” he replied curtly.

“Derek. I’d like to schedule a private session with you, the day before we have a group session.
And I know you’re available, because Deaton told me about your current situation. So I will see you next week.” With that Ms. Morell strode off, without giving a certain brooding werewolf a chance to refute.




A knock rapped on her door. Without waiting for a reply, Derek walked into her office and took a seat.

“Hello again Derek, thank you for coming as I have asked. I was uncertain if you would show up or not. But I’m glad you could make it. I asked for a private session with you, because you seemed very distracted and distant during our group sessions. Why is that? ” She immediately confronted him.
“Why does it matter?” Derek replied instantly, as he sat up straighter.

I knew he’d be reluctant, but this evasive and reluctant? She pondered.
Time to play hardball.

“Because in order for these group sessions to work, everyone has to participate. Including you.”
She countered again. Marin was curious for his reply.

“I'm not seeing a group here,” Derek remarked, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he leaned back, legs astride.
“You're not? How would you call the people from last week's session then?” Marin countered him again. She found herself having trouble getting Derek to say anything else but evasive comments.
“They're not here, are they?” Derek was not letting anything useful slip from his mouth.
“Well, at this moment they aren’t. But they will be here again tomorrow. When they are here, we need this machine well-oiled. You're currently being a rusted gear which is withholding growth and recovery.” She tried using a metaphor to explain their current predicament.
“Do you feel that you can deny them that growth and recovery?”
“No. I don’t,” Derek spoke, his face still impassive.

Another short reply.

Either I’m not phrasing it right, or he is one stubborn man.

She felt a little aggravated, but kept her cool for professionalism's sake. Marin asked Derek another question.“Then why are you not conversing with them? Why are you not participating? Everything that you do and will say, will be kept between these four walls.” She tried to infuse trust this time, because it was seemingly lackluster on Derek’s part.

“It better,” he snapped, squinting his eyes at her.
This aggravated her to the extent of retorting a snarky remark at this young man.

“Could you reply to my question, instead of affirming what I already said.”
“What questions?” Derek spoke up. “It wasn't an affirmation, it was a threat.”

His demeanor looked all bark and no bite to her. Though she hardly knew the man.

Time for some provocative questions then.

“Ah, you said questions. So you know I asked more than one,” she observed with a tiny smile of triumph. “So I know you've heard me, but I shall repeat myself. You said that you did not want to deny them their growth, yet you are not participating. Why is that?” She tried to strike a nerve.

This guy has to have a soft spot?
Oh but I know.

“Because this is nonsense,” Derek directed at her. “It's a waste of time and money.”
She had him trapped now. He’d stepped right into Morell’s carefully laid out spider web.

“Nobody is paying for this, so that's a misinterpretation on your part. But you think this is a mistake? Maybe you should ask Stiles if he thinks it's a mistake to talk in a safe environment about things that haunt him and letting him seek support in this group. I have noticed you two have a certain..affinity. Do you think that Stiles is pleased when you're so clearly withdrawn. What do you think, goes through his mind while you're not even pretending to care about what anyone says?” She countered him again. How she loved this new experimental provocative therapy. It was totally up her ally.

“Who says I'm pretending?” Derek sighed, seeming wary with the conversation.
“Nobody did. As I clearly stated. You don't even pretend to listen to Stiles. I am asking you how it would make him feel? Please answer the question Derek,” She insisted, clasping her hands together as she eyed him sincerely.

“I don't see what Stiles has anything to do with this. Is there a particular reason you're talking about him?” Derek retorted, shooting a glare her way.

Well played, Marin thought. But yeah, he’s my leverage.
She couldn’t quite say that out loud.

“You're a group. A system as we call it. Everyone in the group is an individual, but together you are one. So Stiles is a part of it, Cora your sister is a part of it and everyone else is. I'm talking to you about Stiles because I know you two are mated. My brother filled me in on what that meant. So I'm trying to prove to you, that this does help. But only if you concede and participate.” She didn’t actually plead, but she was true in what she meant.

He needs to cooperate, not only for his behalf but also for the others. I’d rather not exclude him.
But I will if its needed to maintain the balance.
She tapped her fingers on her desk, to help maintain her calm.

“But I don't want your help. I don't need it,” Derek told her, a frown weighing down on his dark eyebrows.
This got her attention. It gave her plenty of signals, but not the ones she needed.

Humans have always been complex, but this one is a piece of work. Werewolf she corrected herself.

“Why not?” Marin asked him.

“Because I can handle it,” Derek replied honestly. Though he looked grim at the mention of handling it.
“Then reassure me of what you say. How do you handle it?” Marin really had to be sure if he could handle it, as he said. Though she actually doubted it.

He seems so fragile, even with this hardened posterior. She decided then and there, that he needed help. Even though he wouldn’t accept hers.

“I have my ways,” Derek curtly spoke.

“Because let's be clear,” she reaffirmed him. “I'm not here to tell you what you need to do, I'm simply there to guide you.” Though after a dreadful silence she went on. “Humor me Derek, what ways? Make my mind at easy.” Marin gazed at him intently.

“You know what would humor me?” Derek replied coldly.

“Tell me,” she tempted him.

“Ripping your throat out.”

Marin stifled a sigh. What is it with men, especially of the werewolf breed, trying to flaunt their testosterone. I’m almost bored.

A smile crept upon her face. “Is aggression your answer to everything Derek?”

“You're the psych, figure it out,” he told her.

Marin countered him, because this was the most common misconception. “So you think a psych is there, to make all your problems go away by magic? You think we have x-ray eyes that can scan a person’s personality? We both know supernatural’s exist, but you can't be that stupid, can you?” She taunted.

“Touched a nerve I see.” Derek tried to play the ball back into her court, figuratively. But she deftly denied him.

“Not really, but you're kind of wasting both of our times.”

As you said at the start of this conversation.

“If you cannot and will not participate in our group sessions, then don't. It’s up to you not me. That is all. Goodbye Derek,” she tried provoking him to the core, to get him to cooperate. Yet she felt that it was not all she could have said.
“I can only help you, if you let me.” Marin wrapped up the conversation for herself at this point. Nothing would be achieved this session, but perhaps another day…

“Doubt it,” Derek huffed and got up, shoving his chair back roughly.

“See you tomorrow Derek,” she told him coolly. Seconds before he slammed her door, leaving her by herself.




After calling one of his contacts in Beacon Hills, Chris, had been able to get Allison and himself back to their home in the small town they once resided in. Allison had been holding herself together the entire time that it only doubled Chris’ concern for his daughter. They had been through so much that even Chris himself had a hard time to keep it together. But he had to, for his daughter. She didn’t have anyone else left besides him. If only Chris had known, could have foreseen, the lies Kate had been feeding his daughter. Had been feeding him. Then he might have been able to put a stop to it, do something about it. Perhaps even save his wife. Save the mother his daughter needed, now more than ever. But Chris and Allison had both been just pawns in Gerard and Kate’s twisted game.

They’d flown back to France, with the little cash they had left. Chris had pawned his watch and two of his silver bullets to ensure they could also return from France if they had to. He’d rented a car with cash, left his passport at the rental agency as insurance and they continued their way towards their old home. The circus. They followed the jagged road through the woods, and reached the site. Their mouths opened, like gaping holes upon entering the area.

“It’s completely stripped clean,” Allison spoke. “How could they do this?”
“More like who did this,” her father replied. The entire vicinity was barren. The circus was gone, the outer walls all vanished into thin air. All the booths had been swiped, not a single speck of human trash was seen. They drove further into the meadow, finding all of the cottages and training centers erased. Like a U.F.O had visited the area and sucked everything in a tractor beam.

“How can this be dad? I just can't believe it!” Allison exclaimed. Chris hadn’t responded. He was baffled into silence. His mind cracking with gears, trying to process this ordeal. They had gone back to see their past home, to find clues, and now everything was gone.

“We haven’t even been away that long,” Allison said frustrated. She stomped towards the only clue, that shows there had been something here. A huge barren slate was in the center, void of grass and filled with mud, tracks and footsteps. The twosome stood there silently. Still unable to comprehend what had happened.

“Now we will not find anything,” Allison cried, slumping to the ground. “What have we given our lives for dad? What’s the point. They hate us, we’re fooled and also taking the blame for all of this.” She had raised her arms, to express her despair.

“If only lightning would strike me now, I’d be rid of it.”

Chris picked her up by the arms and drew her into a loving embrace. “Don’t talk like that, we erred as well. We just have to redeem ourselves, while we still can.” He pressed her head gently onto his chest.

“We can do this, together. We’re all we have left.” Allison burst into tears, unable to withhold her emotions any longer. Even though she was taught not to, as much as she could. Women were the leaders of the hunters after all. She had to keep strong. Allison erected herself, straightening her spine which crackled from all the stress she had. She as well as her father had been trained marksmen. They expanded their gaze, into a 360 degree view, looking for any details left behind. Allison went east where Chris went west.

She walked vigilantly, retracing her mental map of where things used to stand. Thus far, nothing was found bar the footsteps and shifted barren ground. Every now and then she stomped the ground, to see if anything possible had been buried. She traced her way, visiting the old training center –which was obviously missing— her dad’s cabin, her own cabin. Nothing was found. She decided to lastly visit the one place she had been avoiding. The old lodge where Stiles’ gang had been staying. Upon stomping on the ground, a loud stomp was heard, as well as felt. Kneeling down on the floor, she deftly swept the sand away with her hand. Concrete was still there, burrowed into the ground.

“Dad,” Allison yelled. “I’ve found something.” Chris came running in a jog. He swept another bit and nodded. “Nice thinking, now let’s see what’s hidden here.” It took them quite a bit of time to unravel the proximity of what was left. They soon noticed it was the exact outline of their previous basement. Yet... they couldn’t actually find an entrance.
“Why can’t we find the entrance,” Allison yelled furiously. She considered the options and deftly decided it was sealed up.

For what reason though?

Her father stuck semtex to the concrete. “Only one way to find out,” he told her. They took a safe distance and detonated the piece of semtex. A loud bang filled the hollow. Birds scurried away from the trees and other wildlife most probably as well. The sonic boom, pulsed in Allison’s ears.

“Let’s see what we find hidden,” she screamed. She still felt deafened but approached the newly created crater. A putrid smell, came wafting out of the hole. Allison pinched her nose, and looked inside.
To her shock, the entire cavity was filled with the dead bodies, left on that gruesome night.

“Who would do this? They have wives, children or other family that do not know of their deaths!” Allison exclaimed. Letting out a sigh.

“We can’t do anything for them now, the state they are in makes them quite unrecognizable,” her father said. Captain obvious.
“Get some petrol,” she ordered Chris. “We might as well set these poor bastards alight, before any wild animals come and gnaw on them.”

She waited for her father to come back, and poured the petrol down into the hole. With a quick swipe of her matchbox, she threw in a match and set the whole thing alight. They left the area with a huge waft of smoke and heat, looking for more clues.

Chapter Text

Derek was staring intently around the studio loft, he was currently standing in. Taking it all in and just trying and willing himself to like it, accept it, but the place was rather horrible. It made him clench his teeth and tighten his hands into fists the longer he stayed in there. This unexplainable itch spreading under his skin.

The wooden floors were an ash white colour, the walls all painted chalk white with the window sills a grim coloured gray. There was a white leather couch in the middle of the broad living room, placed across from a round shaped, silver coloured, fireplace that hung from the ceiling. The interior and the poor efforts to make the studio seem cozy and habitable weren’t doing anything for the alpha. All in all it made him feel like he was in some sort of a mental house, what with all the white colours around him and the lack of furniture. It was quite fair to say that Derek didn’t need much, but this was too empty even for his taste. The itching sensation he had been feeling under his skin was becoming more and more palpable. A sudden sound of shuffling caught his attention. Glancing over his shoulder, Derek, noticed Stiles walking in the front door. An enigmatic smile lighting up his face as he eyed Derek curiously.

“This looks like something a sourwolf like you could like,” he commented with a raise of his brow. Watching Derek expectantly, as he came to stand still in front of the Alpha.

“I don’t,” Derek simply replied, hands shoved deep into his leatherjacket’s pockets, fingers clenched tight to prevent himself from scratching his skin raw. As if that weren’t enough and like he just had to, Derek was losing his focus. Everything felt amplified all of a sudden, much like he had somehow zoned out before and only now was actually starting to notice everything surrounding him. The awfully loud sounds around him, this peculiar buzzing much similar to the sounds of electricity. Stiles and his own breathing. Their hearts beating loudly and noisily out of sync, so much that it was impossible to ignore. The sighing of the real estate agent, who was complaining on his phone to someone about his client— meaning Derek— getting on his nerves. The obnoxious chirping of birds outside the studio, and the relentless scratching of a tree branch against one of the windows, was driving him livid. Taking a deep breath Derek squeezed his eyes shut and reopened them but the lighting was still too bright for his eyes. The scents around him were dizzying in their intensity.

“What is it this time Derek, is it too good of a house for you? Or does it just resemble too much of a home instead of a cell? Maybe that’s what you’re missing here!” Stiles scoffed, biting on his lower lip whilst shaking his head at him with a pitying smile hanging from his features. As he rounded on Derek he continued, nodding his head to a corner of the living room, “Maybe we could place some bars there, huh? Would that make it more homey and good enough for you?”

Derek was taken aback by the things that were coming out of his mate’s mouth. The look Stiles was giving him sent chills down his spine. He hadn’t requested for Stiles to come and help him, which is why the Alpha just couldn’t comprehend why his mate was acting so out of character. Had Derek done something he wasn’t aware of? From the condescending look Stiles was giving him it was clear that something was wrong. Because this person standing in front of him reminded Derek too much of Kate. Too much of how she could be so sincere, sweet and caring towards him one moment, and then all of a sudden, without a reason she would turn on him. She would spit horrible and hurtful things just to take a dug at Derek, to make him feel like he was absolutely nothing worth. All the while eying him with disgusted pity. She had shattered his trust and made him doubt himself in everything. Made Derek think that he had done something to deserve such behaviour and treatment, and most of the time he had ended up believing her.
In the back of his mind a haughty voice told him what he had known to be true deep down. That a mate was too good to be true, that Derek really was such a fool to think any of this was real. Of course it wasn’t.

“What, you’re going to ignore me again, Derek?” Stiles huffed, his face contorting with rage. “You are such a waste of time, you know that?” Stiles threw his hand in the air, shaking his head in disappointment and started pacing the living room.
“Oh boohoo, you’ve had a rough childhood. You lost people you loved. You had your heart broken. Who hasn’t Derek?” Stiles spat the question at him, fixing a glare at him.
“But you keep bitching and whining on and on, and blaming everyone. You’re so fucking selfish!” Stiles rounded on him, stepping into his personal space. Hardened eyes boring into Derek’s with an emotion to them, Derek had never seen on Stiles’.
“Hell you even blame Peter for making Cora his pack, instead of being grateful for saving her from that goddamn human laboratory. For providing her some sort of a motherly figure, which you robbed her of to begin with!” Stiles shoved the Alpha roughly in the chest and it wasn’t the force behind his movement that sent Derek stumbling backwards, but the force behind his words.

“You make me do everything you can possibly think of, to prove my loyalty and feelings for you, to you. But what the hell did you do to deserve any of it, Derek?” Stiles’ tirade went on as the human inched closer to him, yet again. “That’s right, you didn’t do anything. I disabled the bracelets, I got you out of that shitty solitary cell, I saved you when you got shotgunned and guess who the fuck got you out of the cabin, me! Derek, I did. My friends and I did! What the fuck did you do, besides screw over everything that everyone else was doing while escaping?” Stiles was panting enraged and with a final blow sent Derek falling backwards.
Derek was beyond shocked and he tripped over his feet, and as he was falling his hands reached out to prevent his fall, in vain. However, what Derek hadn’t noticed was that he had been scuffling back at every word Stiles had fired his way and he belatedly realized where he had ended up standing, as he fell against the fireplace. His outstretched hand burning when it came in contact with the searingly hot metal. Yanking his hand away with a pained hiss, Derek’s back collided with the wooden floor. Holding his hand to his chest, Derek looked up at Stiles. The human’s chest was heaving as he breathed harshly, hands balled into fists at his sides, and his stance agile— ready to attack if necessary.

“That’s not true!” Derek hissed out, though the protest felt weak even to his own ears. Derek got up to his feet, his left hand still stinging and burning. It only added more to his former agitation and didn’t do well for his state of mind.
“That’s the best you’ve got?” Stiles sneered down at him, his stance going slack— as if he no longer viewed Derek as a threat.
“I don’t have to explain myself to you, Stiles,” Derek responded, throwing in the towel.
“After everything I’ve done for you, this is what I get? A pathetic shallow excuse of a human being?”
“Why did you do it then, Stiles? Why did you bother? I told you to stay away!” Derek hissed back, a low growl erupting from his throat.
“Because I thought you were worth it. Worth it to risk my own life, my own freedom, career, company and all else. Guess I was wrong,” Stiles’ outraged features turned stoic.

“Then get out!” Derek spoke through clenched teeth. His heart was racing and it felt as if a knife was twisted into it, further and deeper, when the words left his mouth. The itching sensation under his skin had become painful and his hand was throbbing from pain. Derek clutched it closer to his chest, as if it would help, but none of it did.

“No, because that would be too easy, Derek. Did you really think after all that crap I would just walk away, letting you get away with it, you ruined my life!” The human spat at him with bitter venom.
“Did you really think I could love a vicious murderer like you?” The question twisted the knife even further into his heart and Derek felt like he couldn’t breathe. His palms were sweating, his vision was starting to blur from the pain he was in, his knees going weak, and he kept gasping for air but it was all in vain.
“That’s what you are, Derek, a murderer. No wonder Kate put you in a cell, you deserved it. You can’t control yourself, look at you!” The absolute disgust that dripped off Stiles’ voice felt like the final blow.

All the pain he was under got amplified, his hands were shaking and the rough material of his shirt was cutting into the painfully burned skin of his flesh. Derek’s wolf was breaking out of its cage and pushing through, making Derek lose the tiny semblance of control he had harboured. The Alpha’s eyes shone a bright crimson, his canines puncturing through his gums and his claws extended. The trembling of his burned hand only worsened as his claws came through. Derek was sweating profusely, his shirt sticking to his upper body.

“Stiles, get out,” Derek pleaded in a hoarse voice, placing his feet further apart to at least try and keep himself up for a little longer. If he lost his control now, he didn’t know what his wolf would do. It was hurting and it felt betrayed, which made it all the more unstable and unpredictable.

“No,” Stiles dismissed his pleading bluntly, taking a step closer to him. “I will make you pay Derek,” the human confessed as he got in Derek’s face. His gaze sinister and just unrecognizable.
“Stiles, please. I can’t,” Derek gasped, his eyes squeezing shut in agony. Why wasn’t his hand healing already?
“You can’t what Derek?” The human questioned, gripping his arm painfully and twisting it, forcing Derek to open his eyes and look at him.
“I-I can’t hold it back... a-any longer,” Derek’s voice came out a mere whisper, as he held onto his arm even tighter. Willing his healing to kick in and for Stiles to leave before it was too late. Before he was too far gone. It was too close to the full moon and Derek hadn’t felt his wolf this angered and hurt, not since the fire. He couldn’t lose his control but it was slipping, no matter how much he was fighting it.

“Pathetic excuse of an alpha, you are,” Stiles spat venomously, his hand letting go of Derek’s arm suddenly. The resentment Derek had seen in the human’s eyes made its reappearance. Just like that Derek felt the last bits of control he had slip away, his wolf taking over.
Get out!” He roared thunderously at the human and pushed him forcefully in the chest. The force of it sent Stiles flying back and clashing harshly on the floor, a loud cracking sound reverberated off the walls. Derek watched through his wolf’s eyes in horror as it became clear what had caused the cracking sound. It had been Stiles’ head…

Stiles!” The Alpha howled as he rushed to the human’s side, skidding to a halt, and falling to his knees at the sight of blood. The scent overloaded all of his senses, and he was choking on the metallic scent, it flowed heavily in a pool around Stiles’ unconscious frame. Derek’s hands were fumbling, pulling the limp human into his arms and the dulling faint sound of his heartbeat, shook the Alpha to his core. He let his head fall back and yowled as the realization of the situation dawned in on him.

Suddenly Derek started with a whole bodily shake and just like that his sleep induced mind had snapped back to reality. He found himself shaking all over, cold sweat dripping down his forehead, the nape of his neck and trickling down his back. He didn’t recognize where he was, what time it was and what the hell had happened. But his heart was thundering in his chest and his breathing was ragged. Though slowly he became aware of a firm pressure around his body and his eyes finally seemed to focus, he saw Stiles. Stiles who was looking sick with worry and was speaking to him, whilst holding Derek in his arms. A hand softly placed against Derek’s cheek and it felt pleasantly warm. Then Derek became aware of the sweet and alluring scent around him, it smelled like home, like belonging, it smelled of Stiles.

“Derek, it’s okay,” Stiles reassured him in a soft, calming voice. “You’re safe, you’re with me,” and as his mate spoke the words it twisted Derek’s heart. Because they were spoken with the utmost sincerity and frankness. But Derek didn’t want to believe those words, he couldn’t. Not after what he had just seen happen so vividly.

“Hey, look at me,” Stiles pulled his face back towards his own, making Derek face him. “You had a nightmare. I don’t know what it was about but you were terrified and you looked as if you were in  a lot of pain. The second I felt it, I called you but you didn’t answer your phone, which by the way made me lose my shit. Then all of a sudden I found you down the road, walking towards my house, you weren’t responding though. No matter what I did, so I took you here. With me,” Stiles quickly explained in a rush, his hand that wasn’t caressing Derek’s cheek was rubbing his back comfortingly.

“I hurt you,” Derek whispered hoarsely after a long heavy moment of silence. His eyes cast down, too ashamed and terrified to look his mate in the eyes.
“No, you didn’t. I swear. I think your wolf was getting you here, even though you weren’t conscious, your wolf was. Besides tomorrow is the full moon Derek, something was bound to happen, right?” Stiles spoke reassuringly and turned Derek’s chin up, willing Derek to meet his eyes, again. Derek looked into Stiles’ eyes, not to reassure Stiles, but to assure himself that everything was okay.

It’s still not enough, Derek thought.

Without actually thinking through what he was about to do, Derek roughly pressed his face onto Stiles. He desperately needed to feel his mate’s lips, a true kiss. That would assure him that his dream wasn’t real. It simply had to. His mate was abashed at first and unresponsive, but Stiles replied to the hunger emanating from Derek’s lips. Their lips molded into each other. Each kiss feeling better and more perfect. He’d felt Stiles move his hand away from his cheek and knotting it together with his other behind Derek’s neck. Derek wanted more, needed more. His tongue caressed Stiles’ lips tenderly, expressing his desire. A gasp escaped from Stiles and Derek took that as his cue. Derek’s tongue softly slid into Stiles’ mouth, their tongues intertwining. Soft moans came purring out of Stiles’ throat, only to be muffled by Derek’s mouth on his. His member was growing stiffer, leaving its flaccid state. Derek started riding against his mate gruffly. His hips rolling down uncontrollably, seeking that bit of friction, chasing it. It was not just his regular hormones causing this eruption of love, but also lust. The full moon coming up also made Derek’s blood boil with anticipation. Derek knew he was probably just as flushed as Stiles’ creamy skin, which had turned pink so quickly. He felt a nudge against his chest. It was Stiles trying to gently push him off. He was so invested into the kiss that he forgot all else. Exactly what he needed.

“What is it?” He asked with a bite of annoyance he couldn’t leave out to his voice. He needed more of that forgetting, more of that everything.

“I think we can go somewhere more comfortable than being pressed onto this wall, don’t you agree Derek?”

Derek nodded, simply because he wanted to continue making out. It helped him forget his bad dream all the easier and it had awakened a deep untamable lust within him.

Stiles guided him to the couch where he pushed Derek down. Then continued straddling him. Softly kissing his neck, up to his ears, then his mouth and then back to his ears again. A nibble pinched his ear.

“Stiles, be careful, you don’t know what you’re waking up.” Apart from the raging hard on in my pants.

“I’ll be gentle,” Stiles told him with a chuckle. Derek started kissing Stiles again. His hands tracing Stiles’ hair then slowly slid down his neck. After a moment’s hesitation his hand slid further down to his lower back and pleasantly staying just above his butt. His lips hungrily asked for the other’s mouth. Asking for more. Their tongues intertwining once more, their kiss becoming more and more passionate. After a while Derek broke off the kiss, just to remove Stiles’ shirt, to gaze at his supple body. It left his eyes stuck to the sight before him. The beating of his heart quickening in its pace. A sudden desire to kiss every bit of Stiles’ sweet, silky, creamy skin overtook him. An urge to feel the warmth of it under his lips. The scent of his mate had become intoxicating. His lips left his significant other’s mouth and traced their way across Stiles’ neck and slowly trailed towards the nipples. His mate was not only hard in his pants, but also hard on his upper body. Derek’s fingers gently pinched Stiles’ nipples. The gesture had his mate’s breathing quickening, as was his pulse. Seconds after Derek’s tongue flicked at Stiles’ right nipple and he gently bit down. A soft moan escaped Stiles. That only quickened Derek in wanting more, needing more. He started unbuttoning Stiles’ trousers.

“No, not here,” Stiles told him. Stiles seemed as eager as he was, which concerned Derek. Not because he didn’t want Stiles to be this eager but maybe it was all going too fast.
“Am I going to fast?” Derek asked cautiously, pulling himself back to gaze at his mate.

“No Derek, it’s not that.”

Derek fell silent, already putting bit more space between them. The alpha entered his brooding state, which he could often go into. He was uncertain to proceed and closed himself off from his mate.

“Don’t do that Derek,” Stiles told him, clearly picking up on his feelings through their bond. Derek did not respond, he felt out of his depth.

“Don’t freeze me out like that,” Stiles prompted him. At Derek’s continuous silence he elaborated, “I meant that we should continue this elsewhere instead of the couch.” Stiles tugged his hand. “Come with me Derek.”

He let himself be guided into Stiles’ bedroom. Stiles had flipped on the light switch and sat down on the bed. Stiles made Derek sit beside him. “Derek, let go of the wall you put up,” Stiles pleaded him.

If only it was that easy Stiles. I wish I could simply love you and be as carefree as you.

Though he wasn’t an object that could easily be fixed. No matter what front he put up, deep down he remained still broken. Derek sat there quietly.

I cannot be hurt by you as Kate has hurt me, nor do I want to hurt you the way she hurt me, he fretted. Derek almost had hurt Stiles in the nightmare he had had and it was still freaking him out, even at to this very moment. It was still affecting him, more so than he was willing to admit.

I don’t know if this is good for me, for us. Derek felt his old angst resurface. Kate had thoroughly damaged him.

Derek hadn’t heard Stiles really speaking, too entangled up in the mess that was his thoughts and fears, but two lips sweetly kissing his had brought him back to the now. The now was sweet. He’d never done the deed with another man, but if it would be with anyone, Derek knew it would happen with Stiles. His mate, he aroused him. He didn’t think it was weird anymore. Derek found himself thinking and overthinking everything less and less, the longer he was with Stiles.

“Derek, I’m not sure if this is the right time, but I feel like I’m ready,” Stiles told him a bit shyly, squirming on the bed.

I suppose he is nervous.

“We’ll go as far as we want, if you say no, we’ll stop,” Derek said to assure Stiles as well as himself. It was way out of character for him, but when his gaze fell upon the man who was lying clumsily on the bed, he could not even second guess it. Derek shimmied out of his pants and walked towards the bed where he carefully undid Stiles’ pants and tossed them aside. It was just the two of them, with each other. Almost fully naked, only a thin piece of fabric separating them from one another. Derek lowered himself on top of Stiles with an ease that surprised him. Even their bodies seemed to fit together perfectly. Stiles gave a slight nod and pulled him close. Their lips met once again, tenderly and slowly, putting each other at ease. However, Derek found himself uncertain in how to proceed. His uncertainty fed to his earlier fears, his dark thoughts shadowing his state of mind. Derek rolled off of Stiles. Scratching the back of his head, he looked away from his mate.

His body going tense as he spoke, “Maybe it’s better if we don’t do this,” grinding his teeth, jaw set firm, Derek started to leave the bed. Although, as much as it was nerve-wrecking he felt like he owed Stiles an explanation at the least. The alpha half turned towards Stiles, his face blank and guarded.

“I can’t do this,” Derek hissed frustrated after a moment’s pause, throwing his hand in the air and gesturing at nothing in particular. “I just...” He fell short, shoulders slumped, as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. “How can I be your mate if I— If I don’t know how this works. You can’t be with someone who doesn’t know to make love to you, Stiles,” he said to his mate, an edge of despair to his voice. Stiles had looked at him endearingly.

“Neither do I, you stupid twat,” Stiles admitted affectionately. “Don’t worry about it, we can both discover this together.”
Derek’s first response was to deny what Stiles said to be true. Though Stiles had more than often been right even though Derek would never admit that out loud.

Fuck, Fuck Fuck. We’re really going to do this are we? He resolved himself. He was just too done with being invulnerable and acting like he didn’t care. Derek reclaimed Stiles’ body, slowly he slid down. His mouth passed Stiles’ belly button and bit into the fabric of his mate’s underwear. He drew back the boxers with his teeth, fully exposing Stiles’ erection. Derek peered into his eyes, pupils blown wide. He started experimentally kissing Stiles’ tip, when Stiles didn’t interject, he became more courageous and proceeded to gently kiss a path downwards, towards Stiles’ scrotum.

“But…Derek.. what if you, accidentally bite me?” Stiles teased. Derek’s hand enclosed around Stiles’ penis. He slowly slid his mouth across the tip, tasting Stiles’ precum. He did not mind the taste, not even one bit. It tasted salty and something that was just completely and purely Stiles. It spurred him into going even further.

“Derek, wait.. ohh.. ohhh,” he heard Stiles whimper.

He stopped and looked at Stiles, a glint of insecurity flickering in his eyes. Am I not doing it right? He worried.

“No ignore what I said Derek, don’t stop,” Stiles told him.

Derek continued taking Stiles into his mouth, his jaw working around to adjust. He experimentally sucked, his cheeks hollowing, the sudden yelp Stiles gave made him go tense all over but Stiles’ hand caressed the back of his head and pulled him closer. Diminishing all of his concerns, body going slack. Stiles was enjoying every bit of it. At first he felt nothing but his mouth and hand working his mate’s dick. Shortly after he felt Stiles’ hands on his head again. Guiding him into the motion that Stiles preferred. Stiles’ body quivered with sudden jolts the longer Derek went on. His breathing completely out of sync, his pulse racing, as he was coming undone.

“Der..” Stiles breathed, gasping for air, his hands tightening their grip in his hair. “, stop,” Stiles choked out, “I can’t hold it back any longer.” With a sudden pull Stiles had pushed Derek away, eying him through half-lidded eyes, his chest still heaving, sweat trickling down his flushed body. He looked utterly disheveled, his hair standing every each way.

Stiles slid down, getting down on his knees and undressing Derek from his final garment. He tried to mimic what Derek did, to and for him. A wet mouth captured his dick, and the motion of that wet mouth made Derek bite his lip. He didn’t moan but his body definitely responded to Stiles and Stiles responded to his body. Stiles was sucking Derek’s dick eagerly. Derek was enjoying it thoroughly, so much that he lost track of time. Derek didn’t know after how long, but after a while Stiles lay next to him. Both enjoying this moment they were having.

“Am I any good?” Stiles asked him. Derek climbed on top of Stiles and placed his member in front of Stiles’ mouth. Stiles parted his succulent lips, and Derek slid right back in. His toes curling from the ecstatic pleasure he received. When he felt that he would climax, Derek pulled out giving Stiles a kiss. “I need a moment,” he told Stiles.

“So what now?” Stiles had asked him, while Derek took a breather. The Alpha didn’t exactly know what to do next.

“This is as much my first time as yours Stiles. I don’t know.” Derek knew he wanted more, but didn’t know how to approach this exactly. “I know I want you Stiles,” He waited for the response.

I still feel so bloody uncertain, so unlike myself, but this just feels so damn right. Stiles looked at him.

“Are you asking what I think you’re asking Derek?”

“I want you,” Derek told Stiles directly. “I need you.”

This is fuckery, I messed that up he told himself silently. For a while they simply lay there, contemplating the idea of going further. This caused their erections to soften, and harden at their thoughts. Stiles broke the decision by straddling Derek and softly riding him. Derek’s member rubbed in between Stiles’ rosy butt cheeks. It felt so good. Derek was panting at the sensation his entire body was having. Goosebumps were appearing all over his skin, the hair on his arms raised. All because of that fine ass of Stiles.

“Get the lube and condoms from the drawer Derek,” Stiles commanded him. Ordinarily he wouldn’t have liked to be told what to do, but he would let Stiles lead like this, for now. His hand fumbled for the drawer. Normally grabbing something wasn’t hard but when your mate is straddling you, arousing you and distracting you, ordinary acts became difficult. The lube was easily found. Soon after Derek found condoms as well.

“You’re sure?” Derek asked pensively. Stiles nodded at him shyly. Derek opened the condom wrapper.

I generally hate these wrappers, especially if you’re hands are slick. He let Stiles put it over his dick. It's actually happening.

Stiles also applied the lube on himself and Derek and tried the tip at first.

“I can’t relax Derek, it’s too tense.” Derek caressed Stiles' abdomen. He tossed Stiles on his back and placed himself between Stiles’ legs. His fingers trailed with a ghost-like touch past Stiles’ puckered sphincter. He felt extremely tight. Derek’s fingers dappled across the skin. His index finger went in first. He softly stroked Stiles from within. Touching the prostate to stimulate Stiles in a way he hadn’t ever felt before. A soft moan escaped Stiles' quivering lips. Stiles had relaxed enough for a second finger to slide in. Derek thought and felt that his mate was relaxing really well, then decided to add a third finger. He made slow, thrusting motions so Stiles could adjust and get used to the feeling of having something inside of him as well as the motions. After the fourth finger slid in, Derek decided Stiles was relaxed enough for Derek to make love and lusty sex with his mate. Unbeknownst to him, his eyes were shinning crimson. Canines grazing his own lower lip.

“Relax,” Derek told him gently, his voice deep and husky.

Trailing kisses along the sides of his mate's neck, he slowly edged his way into Stiles. Gripping the sheets, his mate slowly let him move inside him. Gently thrusting, he tested Stiles and looked at his face for any sign of gritting teeth or pain. Afraid of hurting him, like he had in his dreams, he constantly watched Stiles as he moved, almost holding his breath. The tightness clenched his dick eagerly. He didn’t think Stiles was hurting but he was quite tight.

Which is only logical seeing this is likely his first time, Derek thought stupidly.

“Stiles, talk to me. Is this okay?” Derek voiced his worries, gazing intensely at his mate and taking everything about him in, studiously. From his wide-blown pupils, his pulse, his ragged breathing, to the sweat trickling down his throat. The slighter’s chest trembling, from need the Alpha hoped. Derek paused his movements entirely as he awaited Stiles’ answer anxiously.

“Uhng,… I’m okay, do—” Stiles spoke on a choked breath, “Don’t stop!” He slapped Derek’s arm, indicating for him to pick up his pace. Derek’s eyes went ablaze at the needy and raw voice of his mate, commanding Derek to give his mate what he wanted, needed, from him.

It felt so good. He hoped that the added ribs on the condom were pleasuring Stiles even more than with a regular condom. As much as Derek enjoyed himself, he wanted his mate to enjoy it even more. It wasn’t just about his pleasure, it was about theirs. Moans and sounds of joy escaped from the both of them. Derek picked up the pace and started thrusting faster and more passionately. His loins felt like they were on fire and the urge to make love to his mate at its peak. Nearly blinding him with its intensity. Stiles’ peachy body was turning red with blush and the all-consuming feverish heat was melting his brains. His own body dripping with sweat from the effort he put in. Derek couldn’t stop himself even if he had wanted to, from trailing his tongue down Stiles’ collarbone and tasting the salty and something else, something that was purely Stiles. He kissed his way up with feverish and chaste kisses to Stiles’ lips, before he claimed his mate’s lips possessively. Their bodies moved in the same motion, every time Derek thrusted, and they were becoming frantic. Derek continually thrust deep, sliding in and out of Stiles. Every time he went in, his dick brushed the other’s prostate sweetly, sending shots of tantalizing sparks through Stiles’ body. Derek made love to him so passionately that his mate came, without even being touched, or jerking off while being made love to. Derek came soon after, a loud howl erupting from his parted lips, his head thrown back, his legs cramping and the orgasm reaching up to his toes. The sight of his mate coming had been too much. Stiles had come in small but heavy eruptions and it was so unexpected. He could not hold out himself and ejaculated gruffly. Derek withdrew from his mate. Throwing the condom away. He sagged into his mate because all of his muscle strength had evaporated. They were both heavily panting and enjoying each other’s body. Derek’s tongue trailed back to Stiles’ nipples and then he deeply kissed him. Breaking of the kiss to relax.

“That was amazing,” Stiles exclaimed. Derek kissed Stiles as a sign of agreeance. His mind clouded again. Derek didn’t want that right now.

“Stiles?” Soft snores and slow breathing answered him. Stiles had fallen asleep. He went into the closet to grab a towel. Derek dappled at the sweat on his skin and cleaned Stiles up. Tossing the towel to the floor, he tucked Stiles in and climbed into bed with him. As he did, Stiles unconsciously snuggled up against him and for the first time in a long time, Derek fell into a dreamless sleep.






A loud knocking sound came from the front door of the peacefully, quiet house. Stiles lifted his head from under the pillow, one eye popped open to view the Alpha sleeping happily beside him. His leaden arm laid across Stiles’ lower back. When the overly loud knocking didn’t relent Stiles nudged Derek in the ribs, “I know you’re awake, Derek. You get it,” Stiles grumbled and he would have looked accusingly at the alpha if not for his already closed eyes. Derek growled half-heartedly at him but then with a resigned sigh got his ass out of the bed and started for the bedroom door.

“Pants, Derek!” Stiles yelled after him, his head snapped up from under the pillow once again as if electrocuted, once it had dawned in on his sleep-induced mind that Derek was walking around naked. Blowing his hair out of his eyes he waited and looked on as his mate put on his boxers.

“Better?” Derek asked him, holding his arms open as he awaited Stiles’ approval.

“No,” Stiles huffed, not entirely sure what he was saying no to. The fact that Derek wasn’t covered enough and that he grudgingly became green at the thought of anyone but Stiles getting to see Derek in his half-naked glory. Or the fact that Derek was now covered up and Stiles already wanted him to be back in bed, STAT.

Derek just rolled his eyes and turned on his heels as he strode down the stairs.
“Derek, come back! I take it back, don’t get anything. I’m sure whoever it is will eventually give up and go away, at some point,” Stiles rambled after him. Knowing full well that Derek would hear him just fine wherever he was in the house. When he didn’t hear Derek retracing his steps, he cussed as he got out of the bed, grabbing his silky soft and still warm pillow as he trudged after the alpha.

Stiles was about to tell Derek to come back with him when he took notice of the fact that the alpha had already opened the door and was talking to the intruder. Walking up behind Derek, with a pout on his face, Stiles came to a sudden halt at the sight of the person Derek was speaking to. Suddenly, the atmosphere of room changed. It became ice cold. Beauregard would never show up unannounced unless he had major intell. Derek must have become aware of the sudden change within Stiles, for he turned around and eyed him questioningly. His question going unvoiced.

“Derek, could you give us a second please?” Stiles asked without averting his gaze away from the private investigator. Derek gave a low growl, clearly not pleased.

“Put on clothes first,” Derek basically hissed at him, as he grabbed Stiles’ arm and forced him back into the house. Slamming the door shut in Beauregard’s face.

“Dude, that was uncalled for, not to mention rude!” Stiles complained nearly tripping over his own feet, but went to put on his clothes nonetheless.

“Who is he?” Derek asked, his former relaxed posture gone horribly rigid.
“It’s nothing, someone I’ve known for a long time now.” Stiles dismissed the question, not willing to go into details about this particular subject.
“Stiles,” Derek walked after him as he descended the staircase, fully clothed this time.
“Look, I will explain this another time but right now isn’t the time for this conversation, okay? Please, just let it go for now,” Stiles spoke calmly but the end of his sentence came out sounding more like a plea.

Without having to look back Stiles already knew that Derek had left the house. He could feel the confusion and slight sense of betrayal through their bond. Stamping down on his own concerns for the disgruntled alpha, he opened the front door and stepped aside for Beauregard to enter.

“I believe I have finally found what you’ve sent me looking for in the first place, Mr. Stilinski,” Beauregard spoke confidently, holding onto a case file.

“Please, let’s have a seat and discuss it over a drink perhaps?” Stiles tried to sound unaffected, formal, and pointed to the living room. Even though deep down he was having a hard time to keep his cool and found himself struggling to breathe regularly. The soft hairs on his arms and neck were standing upright as a shiver had made its path down his back. His heart jack-hammering in his rib cage. This was it. After all these years, he would know. That case file held all the information on his dad’s murderer. Stiles gulped around the building lump in his throat, cold sweat trickling down his forehead, pupils dilated.

“I apologize in advance for my impoliteness but I cannot stay for long,” Beauregard started, his tone unwavering. “I came to deliver this specific file myself, since this is what I was contracted for, I found it would be a disservice if it were delivered by anyone else.” Beauregard handed him the case file and started for the front door, his stance seemed impervious to the news he had just delivered.

“Good bye sir, it was a pleasure knowing you. Good luck with what you’re about to find out, I hoped it’ll give you the peace of mind you have long since been looking for.”

As the door was shut in front of him, the file felt heavier than anything Stiles ever had carried or held, he felt as if he were nailed to the ground. Suddenly wishing for Derek to be here with him. The way his former investigator had spoken to him it had felt like whatever he was about to read, could blow up in his face. Stiles didn’t know when or how he had walked up to staircase, he only became aware of the fact when he found himself sitting on one of the steps. Gazing terrified at the file he was holding.

Stiles had read the file over and over for about a hundred times, perhaps even more, and from the looks of it he had been sitting there for quite some time. As he took notice of the sun setting and the shadows of the night slowly creeping into the house, its darkness spreading further and further into his home. None of it mattered though, absolutely nothing. A part of him, in the farthest corner in the back of his mind told him that he should be reacting to what he had just read. He should be screaming, getting enraged and just get away from this mess. Though for the most part, he felt completely and utterly numb.

Not much later did Derek reenter the house, walking in from the back door. A determined look seemed to have settled on his features.

“Stiles, I know I acted out but,” the alpha sighed as he came to stand still in front of him. Though Stiles couldn’t eye him. He couldn’t lift his gaze from the dark corners of the house and actually listen and participate in the conversation.
“You can’t just expect me to be okay when you’re dismissing me out of a conversation, in front of someone who is a stranger to me. Without giving any explanation. Not after I have told you everything about me,” Derek got down to his knees, his hand gently nudging Stiles’ chin up to face him.

“I have trust issues and probably abandonment issues as well, I’ll admit that. So just— all I’m asking is to let me in on the matter. Whatever it is or whenever, we’re together right? So it’s you and I, we’re a pack. We deal with everything together,” Derek finished, an intense glimmer of something indescribable lingered in his eyes. His expression was so open and vulnerable, so unguarded, but in the end it did nothing for Stiles.

“My dad is dead because of you,” the cold and harshly spoken words left Stiles’ lips of their own accord and the way his voice came out, sounded unfamiliar to Stiles himself. It was so callous. The absolute and unyielding accusation had Derek flinching away from him. Cutting deeply into him. Whatever had been in Derek’s eyes, shattered right in front of Stiles’ own eyes. The alpha kept backing away from him until he was just gone and for the first time since Stiles had met Derek, laid eyes upon him, he didn’t feel their bond.

Chapter Text

Stiles was left devastated. The contents of the letter that Beauregard had given him had crushed him to his very core. He was mulling in his mind over what it said, and what it all meant. Stiles had locked himself in his mind and thoughts and sat there for hours. Until Derek came. A black haze shrouded him then. It crawled into his pores, leaving him cold and spiteful. His legs wouldn’t budge, even though he felt like he had to stand to say what he needed, to say what had to be said. The black haze made him say what he did not dare say, yet did. “My dad is dead because of you,” He had coldly said to Derek. His mate had ran at his response. Leaving Stiles disgusted with Derek, but also with himself. All the beauty of the night before had evaporated into a nightmare. He’d shared the bed with someone who was responsible of his father’s death. Stiles did not remember when, but at one point he took out his phone, called Lydia and all he could utter were muffled, choked off sounds by his tears. She had kept asking him what was wrong, and to hold on. She apparently had texted Danny and Scott, who arrived at the same time.

Lydia had gotten a duvet and wrapped it around Stiles. She gently tugged him and soothed him towards the sofa downstairs. Once off the staircase, Stiles felt very stiff. Like he’d been cramped up for a long time, which in actuality was what had happened. Lydia gently placed him on the sofa and ordered Scott to get him something for Stiles’ feet. They were ice cold. At least they felt that way to Stiles. It was the same for his hands. Lydia had felt the same and was already working on a steaming cup of tea. Scott had put socks on his feet.

I’m not mental, he thought to himself. Though he wasn’t so certain of it. The news Beauregard had given him had put quite a damper on his life. Stiles felt cooped up in his own body, unable to release his emotions. So instead of releasing, he bottled it all up inside himself. Putting him into the state he was currently in. All he could do, was try and keep everything in.

Lydia and Scott kept comforting him. They often asked what was wrong. Fear of saying the wrong thing, kept him unresponsive. The fear of his emotions possibly slipping out, turned him into a mute. So his friends just sat there with him, giving him time. While he felt his feet gradually warm up. His hands growing hot because of the cup of tea that was stuck between them. Danny had been absent, Stiles noted.

What is Danny doing? He wondered. The answer came soon enough, when Danny walked in with a folder that had contained the dreadful news. At the sight of the folder, Stiles let out a terrible wail of grief. Uncontrollable weeping and sobbing following after. Lydia clutched Stiles hard and Scott hugged his friend with as much love that he could muster. Danny was more practical, he laid the folder on the table.

“Seems I’ve found the cause of…this,” he waved with his hands. “It lay on the stairs beside him. At first I didn’t notice but I almost slipped because of it. It was brought to Stiles by Beauregard, the P.I.” Danny tapped the sticker on the folder.

“So I called him and asked him how long they had been in touch. Apparently Stiles still hired him. Beauregard put me in contact with a woman named Sybil. She was distraught that Stiles was in such a state. I told her that I’d call her back later. Thus it all comes down to this.” Danny looked at the folder as if it contained the greatest evil, and to Stiles—it did.

An ache in his lower abdomen woke Stiles from his own world. His bladder was notched to the end and he really had to go. Danny was watching him as Stiles got up and threw the blanket off of him. When Stiles walked towards the bathroom, he was annoyed to see Danny following him.

“I’m just going to the bathroom,” he snapped. “Think I can handle that on my own, Danny?” A look of hurt passed his friends face momentarily, though it just as quickly disappeared.

“I think you can, seeing how you seem to have found your tongue all of a sudden.” A small smile played on his lips, a smile of hope. Stiles recognized that goofy smile anywhere.

Stiles went to the bathroom, washed his hands afterwards, though he found himself unable to face his reflection in the mirror and returned. The socks and tea had not only warmed his body, but also warmed himself. The comfort of his friends thawed the rest and with a croaky voice he asked them to join him. Stiles sighed deeply and looked at his circle of friends, the ones who always have been there for him. He picked up the folder and laid its contents on the table. Some pages were yellow and others crisp white. Picking up the first paper his friends had to see, he noticed his hand was shaking.

“It’s okay Stiles,” Scott told him. Stiles gulped down his dread and explained what they were seeing. “These are logs, found in one of the hide-outs of Kate Argent. Beauregard and Sybil have been tracking them after discovering that Kate had been the one who held the account to one of the investors in their company.”

Stiles remembered the day he had kicked out Allison and Chris after discovering that a man named Gerard Argent and his daughter Kate Argent were financing his corporation. Beauregard had been the one to tell Stiles of this connection in the first place.

“In one of the hide-outs they found an archive of sorts, and there was a folder dubbed Stilinski.” Stiles took a gulp of air, to calm his nerves.

“So they thought to bring it along, and well.. what they discovered was that the Argents had tabs on me. Which wasn’t that weird considering they were financers of my company. So at first they didn’t think much of it. As a matter of fact, Beauregard sent the files to Sybil to help her in tracking certain accounts,” he paused, feeling overwhelmed to explain the next part, because he himself had trouble talking about it.

“When she went through the papers she found…other things. The Argents had a folder on my father inside the Stilinski folder.” Tears were brimming at the edges of Stiles’ eyes. “They killed him,” he choked out bitterly, eyes cast downwards.

“They killed him because he knew something, something he didn’t actually know.” Stiles sobbed again and his friends immediately came to sit at his side, providing him a much needed comfort. He needed a moment for himself and went to the bathroom to clean himself up.

“Stop crying,” he told himself in the mirror, his voice gone hoarse. Finally upon gazing in the mirror, he saw his own reflection. A pale men with bags under his eyes and eyes red from grief.

“You already knew your father was dead, man up Stiles.” He slapped his own cheeks for good measure. As he went back to his friends, he forced a small wall between his emotions and his mind. Stiles needed to know what exactly had happened to his father. It would be fruitless to stay so emotionally torn. It only blocked him from finally learning the truth of the night of his father’s murder.

Stiles sat back down and started picking up the more yellow papers. He read them out loud to his friends. They were written by Kate Argent.



Log 3


Today we tracked Sherriff Stilinski again. Gerard has given the order to monitor him. I still don’t understand why we’re doing this. He confided enough in me that I had been given this task. Chris doesn’t know and mustn’t know. S.S. didn’t do much of anything today besides sitting in his office. Boring cop only went out to grab some donuts and coffee for the station. Today was an absolute bust.

Stiles picked up another at random log. This one was dated a little further than the one he had before. When he would have the time, he would read everything it reported on but as far as he had learned from keeping tabs on people, certain days didn’t have much to tell, as he soon found out.


Log 14


It’s been two weeks. Father has finally informed me of why I am watching this man every single day. Everything seems so menial but father confided in me that Sherriff Stilinski has reopened the case on the Hale Fire. Now I can see why I’m the one watching him instead of Chris. This bloody fool does not see what kind of danger he is getting himself into. His son visited today as well. It’s good to know he even has a son. Might come handy as leverage one day.

This peeked his interest. He hoped to find more logs like this one. They apparently monitored him as well and wanted to use him as blackmail. He felt oddly relieved that they hadn’t, and felt guilty all the same. The thought itself had angered him, because on one hand he was glad they hadn’t, but if they had, his dad might have been alive.

Lydia, Scott and Danny were quiet and listened to Stiles retelling the logs to them. They kept their thoughts to themselves, too enthralled by what was written down. Stiles skimmed a few logs and halted.


Log 26


Sherriff Stilinski visited the Hale mansion today. I wonder if he has found something. He seemed to be looking for something among the ruins. I doubt he can find anything in all this mess. Everything has been burned away and any evidence will be hard to find. I shall break in tomorrow, to see how far he’s progressed. After reading this log, Stiles paused.

“They had him documented well. His every move was documented because he reopened a case?”

Lydia was the only one to respond. “Seems that is the case, something about the Hale fire?”

Stiles nodded. “Dad was investigating the Hale fire.”

Sybil had already written it in the summary that was on the first page. Yet he wanted to find out for himself, through these logs. His friends kept listening intently. Stiles picked up Log number 27 to see what had happened next.


Log 27


Today I broke into the sheriff’s office. He’s been making a map on the board in his room. It was filled with pictures of the Hale family, but I also found a thread that linked my picture to Derek’s. Would he know? It’s getting dangerous. I’ve informed Gerard of what I’ve found and I’ve been told to take measures.

Stiles stopped reading any of the other logs after that. With no tears left to shed, he just sat there quiet, while their friends made the connection for themselves.

Lydia was the first to speak, “Oh no, does this mean what I think it means? The Argents killed your dad?”

Stiles simply nodded. His friends all knew the story of how his father had been murdered, though now he assumed that escaped convict had simply been a hit man, used to keep the Argents’ hands clean of blood.

Lydia seemed to feel the need to read the rest of the logs. Reading number 30, it contained the way they planned the murder on Stilinski, she explained. It was meticulously calculated. Number 35 seemed to be the worst to read apparently. Lydia had told him that the only words written in that log were, ‘It is done.’

His friends and Stiles sat there quietly. They didn’t dare to speak as they mulled over what they had learned in their minds. Stiles himself needed the silence. It was the only thing at the moment that kept him calm.

“Worst of all, I blamed Derek for this yesterday.” His guilt was weighing heavily on him now. He’d blamed his mate for his father’s death. Forsaking their bond which up to this point, was still gone.

“I blamed Derek because his family’s death triggered this event. What a rotten person I am.” Stiles wallowed over what he had said.

“It was a real shitty thing to do, Stiles,” Lydia told him. Scott and Danny had looked horrified at her. “What? You were both thinking it!” She simply said to rectify herself.

“I know Lydia,” Stiles responded. “I feel awful, and not simply because all of this came to light.”

He neatly stacked the papers into the folder and put it in a drawer of his dresser. He no longer felt the need to look at the file any longer. It made him feel sick. Destruction is what the folder had brought. Despair, grief and anger had followed afterwards. Now he felt broken and tired.

“What do I do now guys?” Stiles asked, eying the others. They could most likely advise him in the best course of action.

Scott instantly piped up. “Call him, talk to him and explain it. I think everything will be all right then.” He sounded awfully optimistic.

Oh, how I wish it was that simple. He clearly doesn’t know Derek well enough.

Danny advised him to rest and figure it out another day. Lydia seemed to agree with him and added that it also would give Derek some space and possibly time to cool off, if need be. She seemed to have a deeper understanding of Derek than the others.

I wonder if it is because she’s a woman. Stiles wondered oddly. As his mind wandered, his subconscious decided he was sleep deprived. Badly.

Scott, Lydia and Danny had helped him well, but what he really needed now was a good night’s sleep.

“Guys, Thanks for coming out here, but I really need to tuck myself in. My eyes are starting to droop and I need my beauty sleep,” he joked half-heartedly. “Guest rooms are free if you need them, otherwise you will find your own beds I hope.” Stiles slumped off towards the corridor. “I really appreciate you guys for coming out here and helping my sorry ass.” He sent them air kisses and trotted up the stairs. Scott and Danny hooted while Lydia simply smiled.

Once in his room, Stiles left the facade he’d put up. His smile turned into a grimace. Stiles waited at the door, listening to what they said and if they were going to stay or not. All three talked about Stiles with hope and left to go their own separate ways, to their own houses. Stiles slumped against the door and tears fell down his face.

“What am I going to do?” he asked himself. With a depressed mood, Stiles changed and lay on his bed. “Derek....” he whimpered.

“STILES?” someone shouted in his house. Stiles rose. His door was thrashed open and a scream escaped Stiles’ throat.

“What?” Scott asked. “Did you really think I’d leave you alone tonight?” A huge grin was plastered on Scott’s face once he found out he had startled Stiles.

“Chicken,” he said. In his hands were two cold beers. Scott pounced on the bed and grabbed the remote, flipping channels the instant the TV went on. Stiles was perplexed.

“Come on, just one beer and we’ll go to bed.” Stiles accepted gracefully, tapping his beer to Scott’s. “Cheers,” he said to his friend, as he gulped down a good amount of beer. They sat together, in silence. It wasn’t awkward at all. Stiles even found it more comforting than all the talking downstairs. As their beers were emptied, Stiles turned onto his side and crawled under.

“Goodnight Scott,” Stiles said abruptly. Scott took the hint and took the empty beers and stalked out of the room. Stiles was feeling glum and alone. Without him knowing, Scott returned into the room and crashed down next to him in the bed.

“Good night Stiles.” Scott draped his arm around his friend. Stiles appreciated it. “Good night, Scott” he repeated, slightly tearing up. Oddly enough, Stiles slept perfectly fine. The next day he tried to get some work done while Scott left the house. When it was late, Scott would reappear to sleep next to his best friend.





Jackson and Isaac had been mad busy with applying for college, and at first neither of them had noticed the icy and sudden change in the air. Both were so engrossed with planning and mapping out their college lives that sadly they had neglected the presence of their wolves entirely. Ignoring their true instincts and their supernaturally enhanced abilities. Even if the full moon had been near. But as the days went by the strange and unnerving sensation was becoming clearer to them and rather sensible that something was awfully off. Jackson couldn’t place it, that feeling that something was amiss. He couldn’t for the life of him figure out what was the cause of it. Perhaps he had forgotten to fill in something important on his application. However, that wouldn’t explain why Isaac was feeling the very same way. Which ruled out any thought of them having overseen something college related. In the back of his mind his wolf was clawing at him, to listen, to notice. Notice that he was missing a quite important piece of himself.

“Maybe it’s because we ignored our wolves this full moon?” Isaac prompted, seated on the single, well-used dark brown, leather, sofa across from Jackson.
“Could be,” Jackson shrugged in reply, “it’s not like we did anything as a pack,” Jackson mumbled worrying at his lips, still lost in his thoughts when all of a sudden it hit him like a train.

“Derek!” Jackson jumped to his feet as if hit by a lightning bolt.
“I— I can’t feel him,” Isaac stuttered, blinking rapidly as the realization set in. The wheels in his mind churning.
“How?” He eyed Jackson expectantly, as if he had all the answers. Jackson merely gave a shake of his head as he was pacing the study room.
“He didn’t howl. Derek always gathers us around when it’s a full moon. It’s not like him to leave us alone on a full moon!” Jackson exclaimed, all of a sudden feeling enraged at himself and Isaac for not noticing it sooner. Ever since they had been turned they had always been able to sense their Alpha, even if the pack’s bond was feint.

Jackson pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed Derek’s number. His phone rang once, twice, three times, and it kept on ringing but there was no answer. After calling his phone six more times Jackson was panicking. He was losing his control, claws piercing through, his vision changing, his canines slicing through his gums and with an aggravated growl he tossed his phone against the wall. The small device shattered from the blunt force and scattered across the floor in pieces. Derek could be hurt, he could be captured again or what if that psycho bitch was back?

“Jackson!” Isaac’s voice momentarily snapped him out of his thoughts. “Calm down, we’ll find him.”
“Derek needed us and neither one of us was there for him, we let him down! Again.. what if he—” Jackson couldn’t finish his sentence. His heart was jack hammering in his chest. The beta eyed Isaac and saw how all the colour had left his features, he looked just as panicked as Jackson was feeling. Their Alpha could possibly be dead.

Moments later Jackson found himself along with Isaac, sitting in their rental car, racing towards Stiles’ house. He couldn’t recall when or how he’d gotten in the car and started driving but he was. The beta couldn’t bring himself to hit the brakes at any of the traffic lights or the stopping signs. He had broadened his hearing abilities to their limit, searching for the sound of Derek’s heartbeat in vain. It only helped him to prevent colliding head on into other cars.

“Call Aiden,” Jackson demanded from Isaac, without taking his eyes off the road. Isaac did as he was told, took out Jax’s phone and dialed the beta’s number. The second it answered Jackson rushed out in a single breath, “Aiden, we need your help. Get your asses to Stilinski’s house.” His grip on the steering wheel tightened, so hard that his hands became white-knuckled. He found himself having a rather hard time asking help from the twins. But some things were more important than Jackson’s pride or stubbornness.

“This is Ethan,” came the curt reply.
“Then put on Aiden!” Jackson growled, “never mind, just get to Stilinski, now!” Jackson commanded and was about to end the call when another voice joined Ethan’s.

“You aren’t our alpha Jackson, you can’t command us to do shit,” Aiden scoffed through the phone’s loudspeaker.
“I wouldn’t call you dickheads if it wasn’t fucking necessary, get there or I swear to god I will—”
“Fine! Jeesh, we’ll be there. Who put your boxers in a twist,” Aiden relented, his haughty attitude fading.
“Not you, that’s for sure,” Isaac replied with a broad grin before he ended the call.

“OUCH! What the hell, asshole,” Isaac jerked away from Jackson’s fist— which had collided fiercely with his arm— and the beta was rubbing the sore place. A glum look marring his features.

Good, Jackson thought to himself.

“Stop running your mouth!” Jackson barked right back and kicked the gas paddle hard. The engine roared as the vehicle accelerated.

The black rental car’s tires screeched as it drove through Stiles’ street then pulled up at the Stilinski mansion. Turning the keys, Jackson stepped out with Isaac following suit. Knocking loudly on the human’s door, the tension from before doubling as they awaited for someone to let them in.

“Jackson?” Scott’s face appeared from behind the door as it swayed open.
“Where’s he?” Jackson shoved him aside and let himself in, focusing his hearing on every little sound inside the ridiculously, large mansion.
“Stiles!” Jackson’s voice thundered through the house.
“What the hell man, calm down!” Scott walked up to him, appearing aggravated. Isaac for some reason was glued to the human all of a sudden.

Fucking fantastic! Jackson thought to himself his annoyance increasing.

“What you do want Jackson?” Stiles asked while descending the spiral stair case.
“Where is Derek?” Jackson all but growled out, eyes shining electric blue. Stiles’ eyes widened at his question and his entire demeanor changed, faltered, his shoulders slump and only from closer up did Jax notice that the human’s eyes were red-rimmed.

“He left,” Stiles voiced in a barely audible whisper.

“Where to?” Isaac questioned from behind him.

“I don’t know I—”

Another loud knock on the door cut Stiles off mid-sentence. Scott went to open it, yet again, and his
posture tensed when he came face to face with the twins.

“What are they doing here?” Stiles fired, eying them confusedly.
“Helping us find Derek, now talk!” Jackson hissed, unable to hold his building panic down any longer.

“Finding? What do you mean, is he—” Stiles stuttered, his pulse elevating rapidly, “is he missing?” Stiles finished on a gasp. It seemed as if the human was on the verge of losing his composure entirely.

“Talk!” Jackson gritted out, he couldn’t find even an ounce of patience towards the human— and if Stiles didn’t start talking on anything useful fast, Jackson was going to hurt him.

“I— we were arguing and then my P.I. came by and after reading the file, I blamed Derek. I- I shouldn’t have, god it was so stupid!” Stiles seemed to struggle with keeping himself up, gasping for air.

“Blamed him of what?” The beta’s inquiry remained relentless. His words were grounded out of him. Like they were leaving an awful taste in Jax’s mouth. The beta’s features realigned so sharply from anger, they could cut through ice.

“My dad’s murder,” the words were spoken on a breathless whisper, tears rolling down the human’s cheeks. Jackson all but threw himself at the human, growling thunderously at him, and managed to punch him square on the jaw before he was being quickly pulled off.

“I should fucking kill you!” Jackson snapped, gnashing his teeth, his body trembling with anger.

“Jax, calm down!” Aiden spoke to him, his voice calm, collected and nearby, while he and Ethan were holding him back. Isaac and Scott had run to Stiles’ aid.

Before Jackson could say or do any more damage he was being dragged out of the mansion, nearly manhandled by the twins.

“After everything Derek has done, that piece of shit blames him for his father’s death!”
“We’ll find Derek,” Ethan said to him, sounding genuinely sincere and there wasn’t a trace of doubt in his eyes.
“We will,” Aiden reassured and nodded his head at Ethan, signaling him to let go of Jackson. Jackson gave a mere shake of his head. Slowly he became aware of Aiden holding his arm, the pressure and warmth of it felt inexplicably comforting. Clearing his throat he pulled his arm away and started towards the woods.

“Let’s go find him,” he spoke to them, but his eyes were trained at the gigantic mansion behind them, “Isaac, come!” With that final sentence thrown, he turned on his heels and dashed into the surrounding woods. The twins and Isaac following close behind him.

It had been three hours before they were able to find any trace of Derek’s whereabouts. However, what they found wasn’t anything good. Claw marks were sliced deeply into the tree barks and there was blood, a lot of it, painting the forest ground.

Jackson’s senses were being overloaded with all the different and pungent smells of several various species.

“What happened here?” Isaac asked from behind his hand— which he was holding against his mouth in a failed attempt at masking his nose and mouth.

“More like who happened here?” Ethan rectified, coming to stand still beside Isaac and hunched down to pick up a piece of shredded clothe it seemed.

Before he could examine it, a blasting growl erupted not very far from them. Scarlet eyes sped towards them. Though they weren’t Derek’s. Couldn’t be. Whatever it was that was nearing them, was the size of an animal. Much similar to Peter’s wolfed out physique. It was faster, stronger and more agile than Derek. Just from running towards them the beast left a trail of devastation behind in its wake.

“Holy crap!” Isaac whimpered, hunched down, shrinking in on himself from absolute fear. “Holy crap!” He squeaked.

“What do we do?” Aiden asked, his hand a death grip on Jackson’s arm, pulling him back forcefully.

Just as the massive black beast leapt at them, a deafening blast reverberated through the woods. The beast wailed as it collapsed with a loud thump onto the forest floor. A pool of blood forming underneath its belly. Looking closer they could see it was a bullet that had pierced through its flesh. From the looks of it, it had to be laced with wolfsbane. Before the betas had had enough time to collect themselves enough to search for the shooter, Chris Argent, came to stand still beside them. Lowering his gun.

“What did you do?” Isaac whimpered and at the same time the beast its eyes changed colour, the crazed scarlet ebbed away from them and in its place light hazel green ones remained.

“Derek?” Jackson fell to his knees beside him. The beast was quivering, it was hurting— and from the emotion in its eyes its pain wasn’t only from the bullet either.

“What happened to him?” Argent asked, eying them wearily.
“Stiles broke him,” the beta spat and the accusation and disdain leaked off his tone. “Help me get him inside,” Jackson instructed the others. Together they gathered around the feral Alpha and just as they were about to get close enough to lift it, its muzzle snapped at them threateningly in mid-air, a low guttural growl emitted from it in warning.

“Derek, it’s us. Your pack,” Isaac tried, leveling with the wolf. It trashed one of its claws at him and Isaac scrambled back and away. His body trembling.

“Get Stiles!” Jackson instructed, eyes falling onto Aiden’s, his tone was harsh, demanding. But his eyes were soft and pleading, a plea only meant for Aiden to see. The beta nodded at him and dashed off the way they had come.

“We need to patch him up,” Jackson remarked though he wasn’t sure how they could do that. Derek had literally lost his mind. He had gone feral. The Derek that had been their alpha was gone and the beast had taken over his body.

“Derek, it’s us. Your family,” Jackson tried and got closer to the alpha. He couldn’t just sit back and give into the uselessness he was feeling deep inside. Jackson reached out a hand, needing to inspect the wound. Though Derek suddenly lashed out at him, his long and razor sharp canines clamming down on his hand. The beta cried out from the sharp pain and tried to pull back but the alpha’s grip wasn’t easing in the slightest bit. Jackson growled at Derek, ready to claw at him though his instincts took over and he lowered himself, exposing his throat. His heart was nearly bursting out of his rib-cage because this gesture was against anything he thought he should be doing. He could get killed. Left to Derek’s mercy.

The beast huffed out a breath and grumbled approvingly. It finally loosened its jaws and let Jackson pull free from his teeth. Jackson clutched his hand to his chest, tears were stinging at his eyes. His hand wasn’t healing and wouldn’t for a long time.

Fuck, it hurts.

The beast slowly pulled itself up and with trembling paws it limped away from them, as far as it could get before it fell down against the roots of tree half a meter away from its former position.



Aiden came running back with a figure slumped over his shoulder.
“Bloody let go of me Aiden,” Stiles yelled.
“Fucking finally,” Jackson said to Aiden, relieved.
“You try dragging a kicking and screaming Stiles next time,” Aiden huffed, dropping Stiles off his shoulder.

“You!” Jackson angrily spit, rushing towards Stiles. The index finger of his good hand pointing at Derek’s significant other while he kept his other hand clutched to his chest. “You did this!” He accused Stiles. “You fucking did that,” he used the same angry finger and aimed it at Derek. It was the first time Stiles actually looked towards Derek’s direction.

“That’s not Derek,” Stiles spoke out in disbelief.
“Are you really that blind?” Jackson spat. “Does Argent have to tell you, that that is Derek?”

“Argent?” Stiles asked enraged. His gaze spinning onto Chris Argent. Stiles’ face contorted in disgust. “You want to blame me? That’s the root of your problem. If anything his, and his putrid family got my father killed and made me do one of the most regrettable things in my life.” Stiles’ eyes hardened. “Casting Derek away from me, after we—” Stiles halted.

“After you what?” Jackson asked.

Stiles didn’t reply.

“You know what screw this shit, it’s not important. What is important is getting Derek. Normal. Pronto,” the beta shouted. Jackson grabbed Stiles by the shoulder and dragged him towards the blood crusted animal laying a few feet away. “Fix him,” Jackson pleaded.

Stiles looked at Jackson, raising an eyebrow. “How am I supposed to fix this?”
“I don’t even know what this is!” Stiles seemed fearful. Jackson couldn’t blame him. Derek mauled him, and he was his beta, let alone what he would do to a human.

“Stiles, he might be a big fucking wolf, feral as fuck, but he is still Derek. Talk to him.” Jackson prompted the human.



“Eh hello, there ehh—Derek,” Stiles said anxiously. He wasn’t sure if Jackson was kidding him, or if he actually believed all of this. “Nice doggy?” The big animal huffed and growled menacingly. Stiles edged closer, his eyes snapping back to Jackson, swallowing thickly as he mustered some confidence.

“Derek?” Stiles cautiously approached the animal.

With dogs you always have to stick out your hand right? Stiles thought. Where is the veterinarian when you need him.

Stiles anxiously stuck out his hand. “Good Derek, don’t bite Derek.”
The growling became worse the closer Stiles got. When Stiles tried touching him, Derek snapped. Luckily Jackson pulled him back fast enough before Stiles got bit.

“Be more careful,” Jackson snapped.
“You’re absolutely sure that’s Derek?” Stiles asked Jackson.

“Look at him, how can you not see?”

Stiles peered at the inhumanely large wolf. It’s large head was turned towards him. There was something about it that struck familiarity. Green eyes were staring into his eyes.

The eyes, you fool, the eyes. It is Derek! They weren’t shitting me.

Stiles fell down on his knees.
“I did this to you?” He asked Wolf-Derek. His lower lip trembled. It was hard enough discussing this with Derek. Let alone the giant audience watching.

“Could you give us some privacy?” Stiles asked annoyed. Everyone had the decency to feel slightly embarrassed and increased the distance. Not Jackson though. He stayed, not just because he wanted to listen in, but for Stiles’ sake.

“Derek,” Stiles pleaded. “It’s me, Stiles.”
“Do you recognize me?” The giant wolf was staring him down intently. Still growling deep within his throat.

“Okay Derek, enough. You have every right to be mad at me. I am completely and thoroughly regretful of what I said to you, but you need to snap out of this. I need you to stop being a big woodland creature. I need you!” Stiles pleaded again. As he spoke he softly approached Derek, Jackson watching him carefully.

Stiles stopped. “Derek, it's me.”
“Recognize me,” the anguish made his voice tremble. “Why won’t you recognize me?”A tear rolled down his cheek. “I’m right here damn it.”

Stiles clenched his fists. “Enough, you just have to come back to me.” He grit his teeth and walked up towards the big dog, ignoring the growls and simply staring him down in the eyes.

“Derek, hear me. See me. Smell me.” Stiles walked closer towards the giant dog. The growling grew louder but Stiles continued.
“Derek, hear me. See me. Smell me.” Stiles was able to kneel right in front of the Wolf-Derek, whom was still growling but less feral. He seemed too hurt and exhausted.

“Derek, hear me. See me. Smell me. Feel me.” Stiles repeated the mantra, leaned into the giant wolf. Easing into the amount of fur. “I’m so sorry Derek, I’ve been an absolute fool,” Stiles sobbed, “I did this to you didn’t I?” One of his tears rolled down onto his hand. Wolf-Derek sniffed it and licked it.

“Oh Derek, how can I ever fix this?” He burrowed his head into the nape of Derek’s neck. “I love you Derek, don’t forget that.”

Derek whimpered, waking up Stiles from his own melodrama. “You’re hurt Derek! Jackson, get Scott! He knows what do with animals.” Jackson sent someone else as he stayed with them.

“I am sorry, didn’t mean that you are an animal Derek, but in this state you’re less human than otherwise. Scott can fix you up better than we can this way.” Stiles rambled. Derek chortled at that.

“Did you just actually laugh?”

After a short while Scott showed up and took out the shrapnel stuck in Derek’s belly. Luckily, it wasn't laced with wolfsbane after all. He stitched it up and figured it would heal from there.

“Werewolves have fast healing right?” he asked Isaac for confirmation. Isaac nodded. “He has to take it easy though,” Scott told the rest. Derek stood up and lumbered off into the woods.

“Derek?” Stiles asked. The big wolf turned his head and looked for a second. Then he continued walking into the woods.
Jackson and Isaac ran after him. “I’ll call if anything changes,” Isaac yelled.

Stiles and Scott stood forlorn. “Let’s go back Stiles,” Scott put his arm around his friend as he lugged him past the twins, Aiden and Ethan. Chris Argent long since had fled the scene.

Chapter Text

It had been at least a day since Stiles saw Derek the last time. He hadn’t changed back from his feral wolf state at that time. His phone hadn’t been rung by Jackson or Isaac so he assumed that Derek’s state was still more or less the same. Only he was less feral than he had been, because Stiles had somewhat calmed him. It had been a big mess that day. Jackson appeared on his doorstep in a fit. He hadn’t heard from Derek. In short, they had found Derek in the woods in a Wolf-state. Jackson pushed Stiles and aided him in guiding him towards getting closer to and with Derek. It had luckily gone without being bitten or scratched. As much as being a werewolf seemed cool to him. He didn’t feel like howling at the full moon or having to possibly deal with fleas. Stiles shivered at that thought. He still felt horrid and guilty about the whole situation. Luckily they had a therapy session scheduled with Ms Morell, their psychiatrist of sorts, appointed by Scott’s friend Deaton. Stiles picked up his car keys from his dresser and walked outside.

It was a clear sky and the sun was shining ever so brightly.

Damn, I really need some sunglasses.

Stiles entered his house again and grabbed his sunglasses. As he put on his Ray Bann’s, he passed the mirror and gazed into it. He seemed well enough, though the sunglasses hid the bags under his eyes. His skin had paled.

Have I always been this pale? I need to get out more, instead of nightly forest trips where I sooth my boyfriend’s wild urges as a werewolf. That sounded really wrong in his head. Stiles, you idiot.

Refocusing on the task at hand, Stiles walked outside jingling his keys with his ring finger.
With a press of a button, his garage door opened and inside one of his most prized possessions stood. His baby blue jeep. He hopped in, revved the engine and drove towards the office of Ms Morell.

Stiles called Lydia first.                               

“You’re on your way, right Lydia?” He asked her via his headset.

“Stiles really, you’re calling me for that? I was on the phone with one of our branch organisations. I put them on hold for you. I’m coming.” She instantly hung up after that.

What got between her panties?

Then he remembered that he had.

Getting between her panties had been a fun prospect once.

Though as he grew older, he saw Lydia differently and realized they would never be an item. Next he called Danny.

“Mahealani,” he answered. The soft purr from Danny’s engine was audible, as well as the music playing softly in his car.

“Danny, you’re coming to the psych appointment right?” Stiles asked him.

“Lydia already texted me, telling me you would ask that, so I just left,” Danny sighed. “I don’t see the point of going to group therapy if not even a quarter of the group is here.”

Stiles knew that, yet he really wanted and needed this group session. This whole thing with Derek was stressing him out and he needed something normal.

As normal as group therapy with a shrink is.

“I’ll be there, see you in a while.” Danny hung up as well.

Stiles dialled Scott last. He knew Scott was busy and Isaac was taking up some of his time. He simply wanted to try and reach him, but he was most likely not coming to this meeting. Scott did still show up at his house at night, like a true loyal friend would, though he didn’t sleep in the same room with Stiles anymore. After attempting three more calls, Stiles gave up.

I already feel like I’m invading his personal time and demand too much from him. Maybe he’s asleep?

Stiles quickly had to swerve his car. He almost ran over someone’s cat while being lost in thought. Bloody animal had a death wish of some sort. Why else would a cat run in front of his blue jeep?

“Pay attention Stiles,” he told himself sternly.

Before you actually mange to kill something that’s on the road.

He drove his way towards a brick building. Two cars were already up front, Lydia’s and Danny’s. No other cars were on the parking lot, nor any bikes. Stiles sighed.

It’s going to be one of those sessions.

As Stiles stepped into the room, he saw that the chairs were set up in a circle. Ms Morell was seated at the head of the circle while Lydia and Danny sat across from her. As far away as possible.

“This is quite the turn up,” Stiles said cheery.

“So, I guess this is it, can we start Ms Morell?”

Ms Morell was looking shrewd.

“I’m sorry, but we’re not going to,” she curtly replied.
“I’m a group therapist, but I cannot give group therapy, if a group is under six people. You’re therapy session peers have not been attending so it’s up to you three to get the group back together. That is how this therapy works.”

Stiles felt devastated. He was looking forward to discussing other things than Derek. He simply could not talk about Derek at this point.

“But, we can still do it today right?”
“I mean, therapy, we can still do that today right?” Stiles asked desperately.

“Stiles, as much as I’d like to help you, I was only doing a favour for my brother. I am willing to do group sessions, but there has to be a group. So until you have a complete group, that suffices the needs of a social therapy group, we’re going to postpone our meetings.” Ms Morell’s face was hardened and cold.

“I will pay you? I have plenty of money?” Stiles offered, a bit desperately.

“As much as I like and need money,” Ms Morell replied. “I don’t think your problems will be solved on your own, to be frank. We also started this kind of therapy and I intend to see this through the end.” Ms. Morell looked directly at Stiles. “It’s just how I work.”

Stiles couldn’t believe what she said. “So you’re telling me you won’t help me?” He shouted, exasperated.
“Help us?” He corrected himself. Though he did actually mean him. He was at the end of his ropes.
“How can you do this and look so calm?!” He was outraged.

Morell looked at him. “I think you should leave Stiles, you’re clearly under a lot of distress. When you have more of your group here, we’ll continue the sessions. Give me a call when most of you are here.”
Her gaze fell upon Lydia and Danny, and she rose, retreating back into her room. She closed the door with an apologetic face.

“Can you believe it guys?” Stiles fumed.
Danny and Lydia eyed him sympathetically.

“I don’t think this is going any further Stiles. She’s made herself clear. It’s also quite unlikely that we can get Scott, Isaac and the others here until Derek is back to his old self.” Lydia looked at him as apologetic as Ms. Morell had. “Stiles, sweetie, let’s go home and drink some coffee.”

Danny said nothing, he just looked glum.
“Maybe it’s better to keep this on hold when most of the current shit, has been solved,” Danny added after a minute’s pause.

“It’s not as if any of our shit will ever be solved Danny,” Stiles blurted out. “There is always something new, something more, more shit to take care off. I’m sick of it!” Stiles crumpled like he was a wad of paper. He simply slumped into his chair and could not get up. All the strength had left from his legs. He felt horrible, as if he instantly turned numb. All feeling had left his legs as his problems washed over him.

How do I deal with this? It’s too hard.

“Why can’t we have a normal life, just for once!” He asked his friends Lydia and Danny.

“We can’t give a proper response to that Stiles,” Lydia told him. She had looked at him with pity but underneath it there was understanding. “It’s not like our lives aren’t covered with the same kind of shit that’s covering yours.” Lydia softened. “But we deal with it, just like you do, together.” She affirmed Stiles by placing her hand on his knee. Danny placed a hand on his shoulder.

“If anything, we’re in this together like Lydia said. We won’t need any shrink for that. Let’s get some coffee, and possibly some whiskey after,” Danny let go of Stiles and already started walking forward towards the door. Lydia clasped Stiles’ hand and lifted him up and walked him up to the door.

“It’s going to be fine---- Some day,” she told Stiles. “You and Derek shall get married, get wolf babies and grow old together.”

This took Stiles aback. “Wolf babies?” he said aghast, “Is that even possible?”
Lydia looked at him dumbfounded. The three of them erupted into laughter.

“Thanks guys, for trying to make me laugh.” Stiles thanked them sincerely.

“Guess that’s the end of therapy— for now,” he added. “How about that coffee and scotch?”

They stepped into their cars and went to a small diner. There they ordered the coffee, leaving the scotch and sat there and talked for nearly two hours. Afterwards they went their separate ways. Stiles going home, into this big mansion that did not contain his mate.





“Where are they?” Jackson asked, leaning against the front door’s archway. Arms crossed in front of his chest casually. Gazing deep into the surrounding forest.
“The most I got out of him were the grumbled, ‘some business to take care of’ and ‘South-America’.” Isaac regarded Jackson confusedly. The phone clutched in one hand. His other pulling at his hair meaninglessly.
“Great,” Jackson mumbled rather disappointed, letting his head sag against the archway as well. With Peter and Cora out of the picture for the moment, they had an even slimmer chance at getting Derek back to his former self.
“At least he’s started to respond to his name,” Isaac noted hopeful, “in my book that counts as progress,” the beta approached Jackson, squeezed his shoulder reassuringly before retiring to the study room.

Jackson’s eyes wandered, squinting against the setting sun, until they came to focus on the Alpha’s approaching figure. A fresh breeze of air washed over him. His wolf was keening at the reestablished closeness of his pack. Derek had still stayed apprehensive of them, though the Alpha seemed to have come to terms with their consistent presence around him. Isaac and Jackson had taken turns on watching their Alpha. It had been three days since they had found him, feral, lost and battered. There had not been much progress on the Alpha’s side, but they remained hopeful. Perhaps there was one other person left, to whom they could turn to.

Much like he had done the past couple of days, Jackson, stepped aside and signaled for Derek to come into the house. But the Alpha came to stand still on the same place he had for the last three days, and remained there. While sighing to himself, the beta took his phone out of his jeans and dialed Chris Argent’s number.

Chris may have been the one to shoot Derek and have done a lot of unmentionables to all of them. However, Chris had been the only one who abode by his code. Often, the hunter had protected them from Kate, not knowing that his own very sister had seduced a very young and innocent Derek. Used him for her inhuman and insane plans to murder and wipe out an entire family. The only thing the hunter had known had been that Kate had been behind the Hale fire. All that time remaining unaware of the fact that his own wife was being held captive— similar to Derek and his pack— by Kate.

If Jax could have his way he would much rather kill all the Argents. But, what would it say about him if he were to blame someone of his own age whom had been victim of being brainwashed by her loved ones. For all her life. Being a hunter was all Allison had ever learnt to be. Surrounded by her psychotic family, inheriting their faults, insanity and mistakes.

Instead Jackson was going to use them. Use their knowledge to his advantage. If that turned out to be what the Argents would ever be useful for, then so be it.

Chris answered his phone on the first ring, “Jackson?” Came his gruff voice.
“We need your help,” Jackson gritted out.
“The Alpha is still feral?”
“Will you help or not?” Jackson shot back, his hands clenching tightly around the cheap new phone he had gotten himself. The Alpha growled at Jackson, his sudden outburst apparently annoying the animal. Jackson just flashed his middle at finger at Derek.

Ungrateful bastard.

“We’ll be there,” Chris agreed briefly, his tone calm and collected, reassuring. Before the beta had time to question who ‘we’ were, Chris, had already hung up.

Not wasting time Jackson dialed the one number, he sadly had learnt by heart as of late.
“Sup?” Aiden answered his phone after the third ring. Knowing full well it annoyed Jax endlessly. He only called the jackass if he needed him for something important. Although, bringing pizza and beers did fall in that category.

“Argents are coming by and we need numbers,” Jackson spoke curtly, straight to the point.
“You know, you owe me twice now, right?” He informed overly smug.
“Screw you, I’m gonna call McCall,” Jackson threw back, voice remaining impassive.
“You’d think for someone who gets laid, you’d become more tolerable and less of an ass,” Aiden shot back, a hint of anger simmering just below the surface. To which Jackson literally growled, eyes shining brightly and claws drawn out. His growl shook Derek from his slumber and the Alpha roared thunderously at the beta. Aiden’s snickering voice erupted from the phone, the bastard had gotten the exact reaction out of him he wanted, it seemed.

“Shut up, Aiden,” Jackson hissed under his breath as he turned on his heels and entered the house, slamming the door behind him. The beta sincerely hoped to annoy the bitching Alpha some more.
“Fine by me, good luck with Argent,” came the reply and immediately thereafter the hanging up tone followed.

Jackson stood perplexed, staring down at the phone in his hand. Before the whirlwind of emotions had time to strike him, Isaac, came running into the hallway. Concern and worry marring his features.

“What happened?”
“Nothing,” Jackson scowled, his eyes averting Isaac’s and walking straight towards the living room.
“Jackson! Is Derek okay?” Isaac questioned urgently, though he didn’t halt in his steps to await Jax’s answer, instead he already had gone out the front door.

“He’s fine,” Jackson grumbled from inside the house, throwing one hand in the air dismissive of Isaac’s worries.

Jackson sat down on the long, elegant, leather sofa, leaned back and made himself comfortable. After having checked up on Derek, Isaac, came walking in the living room and sat down beside him.

“After we’ve figured this whole thing out with Derek, I’m going back to Scott,” Isaac confessed after a long moment of silence.
“What is it like?” Jackson inquired, starring absentmindedly out the window across from them.  

“What is what like?” Isaac turned his head to look at him. Though Jax’s eyes were fixed on the window.
“Being mated.”

There was a brief pause of consideration before Isaac gave a well thought-out answer. “It’s like the bond we have as a pack, you know, linked. But it’s twenty times more intense. I can literally feel what Scott’s feeling and I’ll admit, you’d think it annoying,” Isaac averted his eyes, pushed himself further into the sofa and rolled his shoulders. Then resumed, “At first it was. But after a while it becomes a greater part of you than you’d ever think was possible. It’s just your match,” Isaac halted his speech, seemed to think it more through.

“It’s not a perfect thing, it isn’t a done deal. We’re not set for life. We seriously need to work through a lot of shit, but the bond, it makes it much easier. Our wolves accept and recognize them as a worthy and equal other half.”

Jackson nodded his head in understanding, or well his understanding of it anyways.

“Who knows bro, maybe one day you’ll find yours,” Isaac smirked as he elbowed him playfully.
“Fuck off,” Jax grumbled, scowling at nothing in particular.
“Until then you have Aiden to play with,” Isaac grinned devilishly and got off the sofa before Jackson had gotten the chance to punch that grin off his face. But settled for tackling him to the ground instead, in retaliation. Isaac landed to the floor with a loud yelp. Trying to hook one leg around Jackson and use it as leverage to change positions. Their tussling came to a sudden end when they heard Derek growling more aggressively than usual. Pushing Isaac’s leg off of him and pulling away from his arms from around his neck, Jackson, almost managed to get away from the beta’s koala hug.

“Isaac,” Jackson growled, pulling harder at the arms that seemed to be glued to his body. “You’re lucky Scott isn’t a werewolf and can’t smell me on you, now let go before Aiden decides to come after you,” Jackson completely bluffed the last part. He hadn't told Isaac yet about their back up not showing up. So much for that plan. Though, Isaac let go of him immediately after his little ‘threat’.

“Bullshit, besides you love my hugs!” Isaac exclaimed in vein. Because, Jax was already up and out of the door.

The second he got to the front porch Derek turned towards him and let out a guttural growl. Jackson could swear if Derek was human his eyes would be shooting daggers at him right now.

“What! You could’ve gotten your fury ass inside,” Jackson snapped, then came to stand still next to his Alpha when he saw and heard a car heading towards their direction.

Instead of the car he’d assumed it’d be, it had been an entirely different one. One he didn’t recognize. The windows were tinted black which made it even more difficult to figure out who’s in it. It screeched to a halt way too close from them and Derek launched himself at the vehicle, roaring threateningly. Claws colliding with a sharp, deafening screech with the vehicle. However, the second the driver’s door opened, Jackson called for Derek to stop.
Aiden stepped out and before he could comprehend what was happening he was being tackled to the ground, Derek’s ginormous wolf mass nailing him to the ground. His canines snatching at the air just a few inches too close for Jax’s taste. Aiden was able to hold Derek back, though it looked like it was a lost battle. Ethan then stepped out of the passenger seat and glared at Jackson. His claws denting the hood of their vehicle.

“Just submit already!” Jackson groaned his hands were fiddling restlessly. Trying to decide on whether he needed to get in between them or wait it out. Though Aiden seemed to understand that he couldn’t fight the Alpha off and did as he was told. Although from the murderous look on his face, Jackson knew he wouldn’t hear the end of this turn of events. From neither one of the twins.

Once they were all seated inside— Wolf Derek still on his post outside— Jackson turned to Aiden.
“You said you weren’t coming,” his tone was filled with way more emotion and accusation than he'd liked for it to be.
“I lied,” Aiden dead-panned, his eyes still unforgiving. His entire physique too tense.
“But—” Jackson argued at the same time as Isaac exclaimed, “He wasn’t coming!”
“No but’s!” Aiden snapped, silencing both of them, “Did you really think I’d let you down against the Argents?”
“Fucking hell Jax, is it really that hard for you to admit a fucking thing!” His eyes were boring into Jackson’s, there was a heat awakening in them like flames— Jax could tell it was from rage that’s been held back for far too long.  
“What are you talking about?” He questioned confusedly, though he felt like he should know the answer. As if he was about to step into a trap.

“You know fucking well, what I’m talking about!” Aiden shouted, the glass in his hand shattering to sharp, cutting pieces. Blood dripping down his whitened knuckles but the twin didn’t seem to notice any of it.

“You’re hiding us. I am sick and tired of being kept a secret, then to be expected to come running at your will.” He was fuming and his eyes were glowing icy, electric blue. His entire body was shaking with rage.

There were a million things running through him. He was shocked into silence. He felt like his skin was on fire and he felt utterly ashamed, completely inadequate. For the life of him he couldn’t figure out the right thing to say so instead he went with what he always does. Behave like a total, narcissistic asshole. It pained him more than he’d be willing to admit but today wasn’t the time or place for this. This wasn’t about him or Aiden. Today was about helping his Alpha and that, pack, comes before everything else.

“Then we’re done, go home. You don’t owe anyone anything,” Jackson voiced calmly, his voice chilling and his face blank. Void of any and all emotion. At his cruel and ungrateful words, the heat that had been in Aiden’s eyes intensified and the beta shot up, glaring down at him he hissed, “You owe me!” With that he stormed out of the house, Ethan close on his heels, before the front door slammed shut.

“Jackson?” Isaac whispered, concern dripping off his tone but Jax wasn't willing to talk to anyone right now. All he wanted was for Derek to turn to his former self soon, so that he could go off to college as quickly as possible.

Chapter Text

The twins left the house rapidly, walking in sync as they approached Aiden’s vehicle, a gnarly white Mustang Shelby GT500 with sleek black racing stripes sneaking from front to rear. The beta revved the engine and took off, a blast of grit exploding from under the tires as it went full throttle. The booming sound of the engine reverberating through the surrounding woods. The world outside becoming nothing but mere blur of colours. The vehicle accelerated, nearing the highway, leaving the huge forest left behind them. When all of a sudden Aiden’s eyes took in another car racing down the opposite lane from them. It seemed like the vehicle was headed for the woods they had just left. It shouldn’t be. The only place that road lead to was Derek’s house. Slamming the brakes, Aiden nearly lost his grip on the Mustang, it spun around uncontrollably, smoke blowing from the tires. He shifted into second gear, pushed the clutch and flicked the steering wheel to the left while pulling the hand brake at the same time. His foot immediately kicked the gas paddle, he let out the clutch and steered the car in the direction of the slide and used throttle. The smell of burnt rubber invaded his senses. But he ignored it and raced after the other automobile and speeded past it. Hitting the brakes yet again he made a 180 degree slide and halted. Before the driver had a chance to respond, both Ethan and Aiden were out of the car and on the other. Nearly ripping the door on the driver’s side off its handles, Aiden came to stand face to face with none other but Argent. Argent was just about to aim the gun in his hand at Aiden’s face when the beta launched himself at the human, too fast for Argent to respond to. The werewolf’s fist collided mercilessly with Chris’ face and with his other hand he had already hurled the gun out of Chris’ hand.

Aiden’s eyes hurriedly looked passed Argent and took in the sight of Ethan holding Allison back, one arm firmly put around the girl’s throat, while with his other he had his claws drawn out and placed threateningly above her racing heart. In a heartbeat Aiden pulled Argent out of the car and slammed him onto the hood, not caring whether the force behind it could break the human’s nose.

“Dad!” Allison screamed, angry tears streaking down her petit face. Still immovable in Ethan’s unyielding hold. Though Argent didn’t respond, his jaws were clenched tightly and he looked infuriated. Unable to free his hands from Aiden’s crushing grip.

Aiden lowered himself on top of the hunter, noticing how his pulse quickened, the stank of fear rolling of the human’s body in waves. The beta leaned in enough so that he could whisper the words in Argent’s ear without it being overheard by his daughter.

“If you as much as dare to touch a single hair on any one of them, we will hunt you down, and rip your guts out,” Aiden hissed maliciously— speaking of Derek and his pack. His hold not relenting as he continued. “And when I’m done with you, I will go after your bitch of a daughter and rip her to shreds,” the beta promised.

“Do you understand?” He tightened his grip on the human and gave a harsh tug around his collar for good measure. At Argent’s defiant silence he slashed at the human’s shoulder, his claws sinking into the skin underneath the fabric and drawing blood.

“Stop it!! Dad!” Allison pleaded, her voice gone hoarse from shouting. Struggling fiercely against Ethan’s hold.

“Do. You. Understand?” Aiden gritted out half manically.

“Yes!” Argent rasped, his body trembling from uncontrollable rage.

Just like the worthless piece of meat the human was, Aiden threw him on the ground, hatred of hunters heating his eyes with a fiery passion. Ethan pushed the girl back into the automobile, Argent still sprawled on the ground, breathing heavily. Blood smeared all over his face and down his throat. Thereafter did the both betas get back in their car with super human speed and sped off towards the highway once again.



The Argents finally arrived, albeit looking somewhat battered, though neither Jackson nor Isaac cared enough to ask as to why. Isaac was about to show them into the house but Jackson quickly intervened and put a stop to it. He wouldn’t ever let any of the Argents into Derek’s new home. Giving Isaac a low threating growl at his stupefied face, he nodded his head towards the front yard— signaling for the humans to follow him there. Isaac followed his footsteps, staying behind him. The Alpha didn’t bother looking up from his post, clearly not finding either one of them posing a threat.

“Well?” Jackson coaxed, raising an eyebrow in rather impatience.

Sharing a look with his daughter, Chris finally seemed to make up his mind. “Derek is more wolf than human,” he started and as both betas were about to interject him Chris raised a hand and quickly continued, “Obviously,” he admitted. “But what I mean to say is, that even in his mind he is more wolf than he is a human. He’s an Alpha. Which means he can be turned back to his former self, if, his pack would be able to remind him of it.” Argent explained and viewed them both like he expected them to understand what he was saying. At the puzzled looks that were directed his way he sighed, hanging his head a bit in frustration.

“You need to start treating him as your Alpha, a wolf. Not as Derek the human. For he has no recollection of before he turned into his feral form. In his mind, he’s a lone wolf, an Alpha without a pack and burdened with the feeling of great loss, his mate. Even if he can’t remember that at the moment, the feeling— the cruel pain of it— is still very much there. It shouldn’t be shocking to either of you that he doesn’t really respond to or trusts you. He’s left with nothing but his pain, as much that it has turned him feral.”

Isaac scratched the back of his head, eyebrows drawn up, at a loss. “What does that even mean?”

The side of Argent’s jaw twitched, clearly holding back his aggravation. Though before he had responded, Allison beat him to it. “It means that you’re his pack, you need him. Not just Stiles. Or anyone else. You need to remind him to stop being such a selfish asshole and be there for you, his pack. When the wolf sees that, two betas submitting to him, wanting to be his pack he’ll relearn the fact, the truth. In time he will remember that you’re not just betas seeking and needing his help, but that you’re his pack, always have been. Having as many as possible familiar people around him, will only make it easier and quicker for the wolf to recognize your scents and the pack’s.” Allison spoke instructively, her face kept blank the entire time. Though Jackson could hear the truth behind her words, how everything she spoke—both hunters had spoken— were true. Sincere.

Without further ado they turned to leave and on that note the betas turned back towards the house.


Isaac sat down on the couch beside Jackson and he was sitting too close to him. In fact he even put one arm around Jackson while resting his head on his shoulder.

“What do you think, you’re doing?” Jackson groused, trying to shove the other away.
“I miss Scott, so shut up and hug me!” Isaac whined, which was a tad unlike him. Sure Isaac was into cuddling and shit but even he knew not to evade Jackson’s space too often.

“Then go cuddle with Derek,” Jackson managed to push the other off the couch entirely. Giving a satisfied smile when he accomplished as much.

“I will. I bet he’s better than you anyways,” Isaac smirked as he left the grand house and actually approached the Alpha.

Does he have a death wish! Jackson thought alarmed as he took off after the idiot. At the front porch he halted in his tracks. Isaac was actually cuddling up to the Wolf!

What the fuck! Jackson’s eyes went wide at the sight. Unbelievable!

The beta had snuggled up to the Alpha, laying on his back right next to him, with one of Derek’s paws laying across his chest snugly. His neck exposed to the Alpha.

“Stop showing your throat to him, he might actually eat you!” Jax nearly yelled, hands clenched into tight fists from terror.

“He won’t. He likes me,” Isaac shrugged and if possible moved closer. Jackson was near fuming at Isaac’s idiocy. That’s when the sounds from another car could be heard driving down their road.

The three of them looked up simultaneously. The Alpha’s ears perked up curiously. Isaac had gotten on his elbows as he eyed the road as well, head cocked to the side. It was Scott’s Lambo that finally pulled up their driveway. Isaac deliberately got up to his feet slowly, not wanting to seem too eager or overjoyed at the sight of his mate. Feigning nonchalance. The alpha eyed the beta suspiciously, his dislike of the beta’s sudden departure clearly visible on his wolfish features.

Scott got out of his car and before he had even closed the door shut he was rushing towards Isaac, flinging his arms around him. Isaac went slightly rigid under his embrace but quickly melted into the touch. Reciprocating it. After they let go of one another, Scott gave his mate a shy smile.
“Come on,” Isaac tugged Scott with him towards Derek.
“What!” Scott’s eyes bulged hilariously, “what are you doing!” He tried retracting his hand from Isaac’s.

“Shh… you’ll see.” Isaac kept on going until he was standing right in front of the Wolf. “Show him your throat,” he prompted his mate, like it was the most common thing to say.

“Isaac!” Scott whined truly terrified.
“Trust me,” Isaac replied, eyes boring into Scott’s daringly. As if he expected the human to defy him, even dared him to. Isaac’s explanation of what being a mate felt like and was meant to be, replayed itself in Jackson’s head. It was obvious that even these two were still struggling with being in a relationship. Even if they missed one another. When it came down to trust, shit was still fucked up.

Scott whined in the back of his throat, much like a werewolf would, but did as he was told. The human’s body shaking in fear, eyes squeezed shut tightly. His Adam’s apple bobbed in fear and the anticipation of what was about to happen. The Alpha seemed to comprehend what they were doing for he got on all fours and approached them, getting up on his hind legs and placing one paw on Scott’s chest, the Alpha sniffed Scott’s throat tentatively. It took a long breath-holding three seconds before the Wolf suddenly licked a stripe up Scott’s neck. Seemingly satisfied at the human’s submissiveness and scent.

“Oh my god! What the hell. Isaac!” Scott was downright panicking.
“He’s scenting you,” Isaac explained as he discretely pulled Scott away from the Wolf’s muzzle. The Alpha pulled back from the human and trotted to his former post. “Besides, he’s smelling Stiles on you, like I hoped he would,” the beta explained to his still trembling mate, pulling him into his arms.
“You hoped!” Scott punched him on the chest. Isaac jerked back, feigning being hurt.
“He could’ve killed me!” The human beseeched, throwing another fist at the beta’s chest. His panic quickly replaced by anger. “He’s an animal, a feral one at that.”

Isaac gave a low growl at the insult. Even if Derek was in his animal form, it remained an insult nonetheless. But he seemed to recollect himself, for the sake of his mate.

Jackson was seriously considering to walk into the house and grab himself popcorn whilst sitting laid back and watching the spectacle happening before him. An infectious devilish smile painting his features.

Isaac rolled his eyes, “He’s my Alpha, he can smell me on you as well. I’d never put you in danger.” The words were sincere as were the beta’s eyes. Though Scott didn’t seem to relent, his anger remained, eating at him so visibly.

“I don’t care. You did put me in danger though, he’s unpredictable, that much we all know. You literally shoved my throat into his face.” Scott’s hands were balled at his sides.

“Scott, just before you arrived Isaac had been snuggling up to our Alpha,” Jackson finally spoke up, unable to stand by and watch his pack mate get burned for trying to do the right thing by their Alpha, their pack. “We both knew that Derek wouldn’t attack you, would have even seen it before he had the chance to.”

Scott looked to Isaac, his anger still simmering just below the surface, like a furnace. “Argent said Derek needed to be reminded of his pack, to recognize our scents, in order to find his humanity. To recollect his memories as a human,” Isaac elaborated in a gentle tone, his hand reaching out for Scott’s. “You’re pack. And he knows you now, can remember you even— if given the chance.”

Scott pushed the hand away, “That’s not what you said. You said you were hoping he’d smell Stiles on me!” Scott exclaimed exasperated, starting to move away.

“After he scented you!” Isaac added, though it was futile. Scott was already shaking his head and started walking away.

“Scott! Please wait,” Isaac hurried after him like a lost puppy. If the beta had a tail, it would be hanging between his legs right about now.

“Listen to our bond,” Isaac urged, taking a hold of Scott’s arm and gently stopping him from walking away any further. “I truly wouldn’t do or ask anything of you, if it would put you in harm’s way.” The beta admitted solemnly.

Scott gave a tentative nod. “I believe you and I trust you. But I’m believing you because I’m hoping that in doing so it will actually help Derek. That what you say is true. I’m done seeing the people around me getting hurt, whether it’s by a stranger or themselves,” the human stated, leveling Isaac straight on with a determined gaze. It seemed that Isaac conceded to that, for he nodded his head in gratitude and gave a genuine smile.

“So, you mad?” Isaac asked after a brief pause, to which Scott shook his head. That was when Jackson looked away, because the bright smile that lit up Isaac’s face just then was one only meant for Scott’s eyes to see. It felt like an invasion to not turn around.


“Uh.. so, I’ve been wondering. How did you guys pay for this house? It’s huge!” Scott eyed them utterly puzzled.

Sitting opposite from Scott both betas were seated next to each other on the leather sofa, yet again, and eyed one another. Both had their arms crossed in front of their chests and were sitting back, legs widely astride, taking up more space than necessary. Before a shit-eating grin split their faces in half, their grin terrifyingly predatory, toothy and more wolf than human.

“We won’t ever tell.” They admitted in unison, voices unruly mischievous and secretive. An unspoken agreement seemed to have settled between the two. For they looked more cocky than they had ever before. It was making Scott quite obviously nervous as he shifted in his seat, slightly uncomfortable. The everlasting tension-filled silence finally being broken by the betas burst of laughter.






Stiles woke up after the horrible day before. The whole therapy session that he needed so dearly had been cancelled. Only Lydia and Danny showed, the rest obviously had bailed and left him hanging. Ms Morell had made it very, very clear that there would be no sessions until there was more attendance. Afterwards, they had gone out for coffee and when he had gotten home he had conceded to his inner battles and shamelessly poured himself some bourbon, to drown his sorrows with, before dozing off in his bed. He’d slept for nearly fourteen hours.

Stiles tossed the duvet with a loud yawn escaping his lips. He had fallen asleep with his clothes still on, he noticed. Stiles sat up in bed and put one foot before the other onto the floor. The sandman had visited him last night, so he rubbed the sand from his eyes. Another loud yawn was stifled by his hand while he trotted towards his wardrobe.

He lifted the shirt off his head, exposing his slightly toned abs. Shimmied out of his pants and tossed his socks onto the floor. As he walked into his walk in closet, he caught a glimpse of his body in the mirror. Stiles stopped and waited. He flexed his muscles.

Is this how Derek sees me? Does he really think this is hot?

As he was watching himself, he slowly started touching himself. It had been a few days since he last had sex. Watching himself in the mirror and remembering how it had felt like when Derek had touched him, was slightly arousing him. His member grew, the more he got aroused images of the all-consuming and mind-blowing sex he’d had with Derek infiltrated his mind with a slow fog-like intoxication. Warmth seeping through his body, filling the pit of his stomach and roaring all the way up to his chest engulfing him with desire. Though as soon as the thought of Derek had crossed his mind, he faltered. He still felt absolutely distraught for what he did to Derek. Blaming him and shutting him out after he found out his father had been killed due to investigating the Hale Fire. It had turned his mate feral and their bond non-existent. The shame of it, had darkened Stiles from within.

Sighing, Stiles slowly dressed himself properly and left his aching loins for what they were.

Derek comes first. His mind told him, decisively.

Stiles selected jeans just to be certain. Visiting Derek always was a surprise. You never knew if you had to get down and dirty or not. Stiles had promised to pick up Lydia and Danny before he would visit Derek. They wanted to see the Wolf that they heard so much about. He’d agreed to take them with him. It was possible for them to see Derek, even if it was from afar. Stiles would not knowingly put his friends in harm’s way. With that in mind he left for his car, jingling his car keys with his finger absentmindedly, out of habit. He revved the engine of his old and faithful blue jeep. He had other cars, more expensive ones, but this was his very first. The nostalgia of the vehicle stuck with him. Deep down, it was also because it reminded him of his father. Though he never said that out loud. While driving, the radio station played a song called Silver Moonlight. The song was from a band called Within Temptation, apparently. Stiles wasn’t listening intently until the chorus came on.

Screamin' at the walls of fire
They are closing in on me
I'm hungry for the burnin' of the silver moonlight
It's where I wanna be
Screamin' at the walls of fire
But I'm still runnin' free
In the silver moonlight
I can't breathe

Stiles paused and wondered. The lyrics struck him, they spoke to him on a level he hadn’t expected a song to, because he felt like the lyrics perhaps could be interpreted as a deeper understanding of his feelings for the Alpha. Derek being his Silver Moonlight that he wanted so much to be with. The walls of fire being all the problems surrounding him, never giving him a chance to properly be with Derek. First there was the entire mayhem at the circus, upon arriving home another shitload of issues came his way. His company getting dealt a financial blow, plus he and Derek had issues of their own to work out.

Then there was the fact that after all they had gone through, his significant other still wasn’t at ease, was making it harder and more difficult for Stiles to breathe. He just wanted everything to be perfect, normal and well… normal instead of the supernatural drama that always seemed to revolve around them. He sighed as the song droned on again, yet he was still lost in thoughts about the lyrics. Considering their lives was a mess at the moment and the question yet remained whether they would be able to get the Alpha back to his human form.

As the song came to its end Stiles decided then and there, that he would check this artist out when he had the time. Before he knew it, he’d arrived at Danny’s place, honked twice and two minutes later they were on the road for Lydia’s.
“So how are you Stiles?” Danny had asked him, genuine concern barely hidden in the depths of his eyes.

“Peachy,” his answer was curt and abrupt. Stiles was still a little distracted by his current predicament.
At Danny’s silence he acknowledged. “Sorry, I’m a little distracted.” He stared out on the road, unwilling to face his friend.

“That has been happening a lot lately, hasn’t it Stiles?” Danny continued. “Are you holding up okay?” His friend worried.

Stiles sighed a bit dejectedly. “Do you want an honest answer Danny?”
“I just really want and need Derek back. I’ve never felt like this before, about anyone and I just keep fucking it up. Just for once, I want something real, normal and tangible. You guys can help me with the company stuff, but I can only burden you guys as much with those problems. Some things, like my issues with Derek, I need to solve on my own. As hard and difficult as they can be.”

“There will be a time that all will be well, keep hope,” Danny halted. “But ehh, Stiles. I know this is all new to you so… the boy on boy things that is. So if you have any questions don’t be shy. I’ve been there and done that and I, you know, know things,” he awkwardly worded, scratching the back of his head tad nervously.

Stiles had to laugh. “Well, if those conversations are as any awkward as this, we might need to practice.”
He placed his hand on Danny’s leg reassuringly. “If there are any man on man things that I’m curious of, or possibly need to know more about, you’re my go to guy. Or the internet,” he added, a playful smirk pulling crookedly at the corner of his mouth. Stiles drove up onto Lydia’s driveway and honked.

“Just a second,” she yelled. As she got out disdain portrayed on her face. “You have got to be kidding! I’m wearing Gucci heels and a Prada dress! You expect me to get into ‘Old Faithful and Filthy?” Lydia scoffed indignantly. She stepped in and moped. “Next time I’m driving.”

Stiles ignored the raging and ranting, she would get over it soon enough.

Who the hell wears Prada and Gucci knowing to possibly visit a gigantic wolf? I wonder who she is trying to impress… Maybe that Jackson dude?

Danny snapped him out of his state. “Stiles and Derek had sex,” he simply stated. Lydia’s face turned completely. Her hand was hovering in front of her mouth, as if to cover any shouts, screams, giggles or gasps coming out of her mouth.

“You did what!” she yelled, directed at Stiles.

Stiles felt his face flushing. He was slightly embarrassed, even at this age. “No comment,” he simply stated, lips pressed into a thin line.

“No, no, no,” Lydia rapidly said. “You cannot do this to me Stiles!” She beseeched again. “You can’t tell Danny all the delicious and wondrous details of having sex with Derek Hale and deny me! You know as well as I do, that when I saw that hunk, I wanted him, giving me babies for all I care. So spill the beans Stilinski!” She waited, with her arms crossed while Stiles drove on.

“Well, it happened” Stiles replied shortly. “It was great… honest and loving sex. But also weird, because we both didn’t really know how everything worked but… we managed,” Stiles paused. “That’s all I am willing to say about it.” Stiles shrugged and left it at that.

“That’s all?” Lydia prompted him, eying him skeptically.

Stiles looked at her pointedly through his car mirror. “I’m not going to describe it like it was a porno.”
“That’s what I shall say about it Lydia, just know that it was amazing, loving and I kinda want more of it.”

Lydia whistled, “So... you’re gay?” Lydia asked the question to which Danny also wanted the answer too.

“Honestly? I don’t know. I suppose I could be gay due to the fact that I am attracted to a man and had sex with one, but I never really had this kind of feeling for any other man, so I don’t know. I’d rather not label myself for something I’m possibly not. All I can say is, I like Derek and would like to get know him better.” Stiles ended the conversation with that. Luckily his phone rang and he used the headset to answer it.

“Hello, this is Stiles Stilinski.”

“Hey! I forgot to tell you, we’re at Derek’s new place that Isaac and Jackson got. Derek’s around somewhere…” Scott said. “So, I’ll text you the address. Bye Lydia, Danny and Stiles.”

Stiles felt that the call ended quite fast.
“That was weird, wasn’t it? Don’t you guys think that was weird?”

Lydia and Danny shrugged and replied in unison “It’s nothing,” followed up by the two of them getting a terrible laughing fit. Scott had texted him the address and Danny read it out loud while Stiles put the address in the navigator.

As they pulled up on the road leading to the given address, Stiles noticed Chris and Allison Argent driving past them in a car he didn’t recognized. Stiles was left baffled. He quickly drove down the rest of the road and stopped not far from the house. They had bantered all up towards Derek’s new home which took their breath away. It was very modern, nicely picked. The concrete exterior made it seem inflammable and there was plenty of nature, for if Derek needed to howl. Danny whistled admiringly, clearly impressed.

“They did a great job on the house, I wonder where they had the cash lying around.”

Stiles smiled, “Does it matter? It looks perfect!”
“I can immediately see this suiting Derek,” he said dryly.

As they walked up towards the house, he noticed there were several new cars that they hadn’t seen before.
“I wonder whose cars those are. Did Scott play sugar daddy for Isaac?” Lydia wondered.

“Beats me,” Danny replied, giving a half-hearted shrug.

As he walked into the house though he immediately started asking questions. The Argents’ presence not forgotten.

“What were they doing here?” Stiles heatedly asked Scott who was in his periphery. He was fuming. Everywhere he went, the Argents suddenly were around.

“Answer me” he practically yelled.

“Stiles, listen to me. It’s not what you think. You know that I dislike them for what they did as much as you do.” Scott had the nerve to look embarrassed.

“You liked Allison,” he blurted out in anger. “They don’t deserve a second chance.” Stiles sputtered out the words, so enraged as he was.

“Look Stiles,” Isaac interjected, leveling him with a steadfast expression. A slight edge of protectiveness detectable in his tone. “Regardless of what Scott felt or did not feel for Allison, the fact is. They are helping us get Derek back to normal. So either deal with it, or don’t. Because I want my Alpha back, so I don’t know about you but I am willing to try anything about now.”

Stiles was perplexed. Not by the fact that Isaac stood up for Scott, nor by what he actually said. He was shocked that Isaac spoke up and told him off. There had to be merit if Isaac spoke out. Humbled by what was said, Stiles decided to cooperate. He himself was getting desperate of airing the emotions and tension between him and Derek, which he was quite unable to do as Derek couldn’t really talk back, only listen.
“Just know that I don’t like, or trust the Argents for one second,” he angrily declared to Scott and Isaac.

“You have every reason to Stiles, but hear me out, there is a lot more to the story. While Chris was talking to Isaac and Jackson, I was alone with Allison.” Scott started, his cacao coloured eyes pleading with his.

Stiles sighed deeply, rolling his shoulders, and was unable to keep his hands from stressfully clenching and unclenching.

“No listen, hear me out Stiles. The Argents have done some digging of their own. The entire circus area was stripped clean, with nothing to be seen apart from a mass grave underneath our living quarters.” Scott paused, trying to remember and paraphrase what Allison had told him.

“Kate and Victoria are dead, and apart from them there is only one sole Argent who could orchestrate such things. Gerard Argent. He’s the one pulling all the strings with the circus and also with our company. You yourself read that Kate was put on your father’s case by Gerard. So cut them some slack… they’re trying to make amends.”

It certainly put things in perspective for Stiles, though now was not the time to deeply think about it.

It doesn’t make me hate them any less for what happened. Regardless if they did or didn’t do it. They’re still Argents. Stiles’ anger clouded his rationality.

I used to be so happy-go-lucky and now I simply can’t be that way.

Scott took his hand and dragged him along.
“Come on.”

Lydia and Danny followed them with Isaac, not uttering a word about what just transpired. Lyds and Danny simply exchanged worried looks for what would come next. Scott led them to the back. Derek was lazing on his stomach.

“Listen carefully and listen well,” Scott dictated to them. “Argent has given us a possible solution to the current predicament. I didn’t like it, I assure you, but apparently it’s a solution, so we’re rolling with it.”
Scott paused. Stiles took it as a bad sign.

“One by one, you need to go up to Derek and, well, sort of expose your throat. Jackson over there will intervene if there is a need for it.”
Lydia and Danny anxiously looked back where Isaac stood with his arm crossed.

“I know I’m asking much of you, but trust me.” Scott gestured Danny to come forward first.

“Why does it feel like we’re being prepped for a slaughter house?” Danny asked afraid. “You’re basically asking me to expose my throat, to a wolf who could easily rip, tear and slash it leaving me for dead in a matter of seconds? For what? So I can save one of your new boyfriends?” Danny pointed out. “You’re asking too much of me at this point.”

Stiles felt the same, they were asking much of Danny and Lydia, but he was really hoping that they would cooperate.

Scott looked at Jackson and Isaac apologetically.

“Explain it to them.” Jackson practically commanded of Scott.

“They said, that if we smell like Stiles. Derek will recognize it as a safe smell and then will recognize our own smell, considering we’re part of his pack. Though for me it’s mostly because of Isaac.” Scott explained.

“So basically, I’m the potpourri that makes Derek like you?” Stiles thought out loud.

Scott looked at him oddly. “So, who of you two is first?”

Danny still had his feet planted firmly in the ground.

“Fine! I’ll do it,” Lydia said walking up to Stiles. “At least I will die gorgeous if it comes to that.”

Scott handed her the Jacket that Stiles had with him. “Wear this and walk towards Jackson.”

Scott patiently waited for Lydia to walk to Jackson. First she walked very confidently, but the closer she got to Derek, the less she seemed to like it—the feeling written all over her face. Jackson took her hand and told her to expose her throat. As she did, she glanced back one time towards Stiles, Scott and Danny and closed her eyes.

Derek got up lazily sniffing the jacket first, followed by placing his paw on her chest. Sniffing her neck.
Lydia’s fear and submission seemingly appeased him and he nuzzled her neck gently and then stood next to Jackson. With an affirmative nod from Jackson, she walked back towards Stiles. Away from Derek. Lydia instantly started cursing in a low voice, calling her friends idiots, and wondering why she even did this life-threatening stuff.

Danny, reaffirmed by Lydia slowly walked to Stiles and took a vest from Stiles. “Remind me to bring more clothes next time,” he told his friends.

Danny glanced back at Isaac, seeing Isaac’s posture in a more relaxed state. His fight or flight instinct was deciding if it was better to flee, or fight and face the wolf. Danny opted to fight and face the wolf because he wouldn’t get really far with three werewolves around. Jackson instructed him on what to do, and Danny as well was approved by Derek. Danny almost ran back, rushing back to his friends.
“I guess I’m last,” Stiles said as he walked forward. Stiles saw the drill two times and simply walked to Derek and exposed his neck without fear. Derek had accepted him before so Stiles didn’t know why he wouldn’t be accepted this time. He was being sniffed thoroughly. Derek sniffed both sides of his neck, his arms, pants and even shoes.

“I’m surprised he didn’t sniff my crotch or ass,” he said dryly.

Derek got back on all fours and trotted back a little. Before Stiles even knew it, he was on the floor, with a big pounder of a wolf tackling him onto the ground. The impact wasn’t as gentle as he would’ve liked. The big wolf was slobbering all over him.

“Eww, Derek gross!”

As he had the massive Wolf on him, he felt his guilt rushing in. I made him like this.

I know I can’t blame him for what happened to dad, yet I did, in a moment of sadness and grief, and there hasn’t been a single day that I haven’t regretted it Derek.

Stiles didn’t exactly say it out loud, because of all the entourage, but a tear trickled down his cheek. The Alpha nuzzled his neck.

“I’m sorry Derek,” Stiles confessed. “I’ve been a fool and I wish I could reverse what I said. Yet I can’t. The words are spoken and I must deal with the consequences. I promise to make amends, in whatever way that is needed and is possible.”

Derek’s fur tickled his nose, causing him to sneeze in a high pitch, several times.

Way to ruin the moment, Stiles thought, yet he still had to laugh.

Jackson hoisted him off the ground watching as Derek backed away.

“So…that’s it?” Stiles asked.




It was late, deep into the darkest hours of the night. The pack, including the humans, had gone inside and to their surprise the Alpha had followed for the first time. They had settled down and were slumped all across Derek’s house. Some sat on the sofa while others had taken a seat on the floor in front of the others. The bright mesmerizing moonlight was shining through the many windows. Engulfing the exposed concrete surfaces with its light in a way that was rather breath-taking. The only sounds came from the crackling hearth in the background and the soft snores coming from the sleeping Alpha. Despite all of their efforts, Derek was still trapped inside his wolf form, and it would be a lie to say it didn’t darken everyone’s mood.

“Why was Argent battered by the way?” Stiles suddenly spoke up, whilst laying gently against Derek’s side. His hand absentmindedly going through the Wolf’s soft, thick fur.

“Don’t know. Arrived like that,” Jackson replied, shrugging noncommittally.

“Weird,” the human mumbled and closed his eyes.

Before anyone had a clue, they had all fallen asleep at one point in the night or another. The fire of the hearth and each other's company keeping them warm through the night.

However, Stiles’ peaceful sleep was suddenly interrupted, for reasons unbeknownst to him. Grumbling under his breath he turned, searching for the soft and sweetly, warm fur he had fallen asleep on. But it wasn’t there. Instead of the soft, silky like fur, it had been replaced by hard planes. At first Stiles thought for a single second that he had fallen to the floor, but said floor flexed under his face, going insanely rigid. Stiles’ eyes snapped wide open. Looking up he saw Derek. Derek, human Derek!

“Derek?” Stiles whispered barely audible, tears stinging at the corners of his eyes. Threatening to pour over. He reached a tentative hand out towards the other and gasped when he felt the warm skin of Derek’s upper arm underneath his touch.

“It’s really you again,” Stiles whispered and flung himself at the Alpha. Wrapping him tightly in his embrace.

“I am so sorry,” he whispered, his body convulsing from emotion. His words choked out of him. “So sorry,” he repeated the apology over and over, like a mantra. It took a while before Derek put one arm around him. The Alpha was still immovable.

“Stiles,” he finally whispered back, his voice so small, raspy and vulnerable. It broke Stiles’ heart all over again.

Chapter Text

“Where are we?” The Alpha asked confused, as he pulled back from the human’s arms and looked around at their surroundings. A lost look haunting his soft green eyes.

“We’re— in your house,” Stiles gulped around a lump in his throat. Derek frowned, looking even more confused than before. Stiles quickly elaborated, “Your pack bought it for you, as a surprise, though I guess I kinda ruined it. Sorry!” Stiles whispered hoarsely, silent tears still trailing down his cheeks. He pulled Derek back into his arms, still needing the actual comfort human Derek provided—just by being there. Burying his face in the other’s shoulder. He was completely and utterly overwhelmed by everything that was swirling through him. His sense of guilt still had an immeasurable iron-like grip on him, making it impossible to really allow himself to feel relieved. Relieved that their efforts hadn’t been in vain after all.

“What happened?” Derek asked after a long pause, his brilliant green eyes searching Stiles’ as he pulled back, the warmth of his body already being missed.

“Don’t you remember?” Stiles held on tighter to Derek, his hands pulling the Alpha closer, terrified that he’d lose him again.

“I—” The Alpha frowned, his eyes glazing over as he seemed to search his mind for lost memories. “I remember the news of your dad’s murder,” Derek voiced quietly, eyes cast down. Not reciprocating any of Stiles’ touches. Their bond still amiss.

“Derek, it wasn’t your fault! I swear it wasn’t! I was so wrong,” Stiles blurted on a single breath, his guilt choking him. “I didn’t have the right to ever speak to you in such a way. And to think that, it was downright unjust of me,” Stiles confessed, shaking his head at his own stupidity. How his actions had been exceptionally low and mean.

“I was blinded by my sadness and pain, thinking the truth would finally give me some peace of mind. When all it did was hurt the one person in my life I care for the most.” Stiles had let go of Derek entirely. He felt entirely uncomfortable in his own skin and felt so disgusted with himself. He was a better person than to have acted in such a manner. His father had taught him better than that, to be a proper man. One of honour, respect and equality. Above all to treat everyone the same way he wished people treated himself.

Stiles had gone up and beyond for Derek and his pack ever since they had met, that still stood. However, after they had gotten back he had somewhat lost himself in his own daily life and whereabouts. His understanding and patience for Derek steadily but surely diminishing. To such an extent that he had argued more and more with his mate, when he should have showed him equanimity, support and kindness. Instead he’d let it get under his skin, deluding himself that he simply couldn’t help Derek. Couldn’t provide him whatever it was the werewolf needed. Stiles had even chosen the easy way out. Again and again. Whether it had been walking away from the situation or even forcing everyone into group therapy. Anything but actually trying.

Stiles should have manned up and stood by Derek’s side. Should have tried harder and fought for Derek even when the werewolf himself seemed to be giving up on that battle. Derek had been so lost— tormented even—when he had first gotten back to Beacon Hills. The nightmares he had had, every single night, over and over again. Stiles should have done more than just picking up his phone and making a phone call. Who did that? He should have gone over, Derek’s protests aside. Should have been there by the Alpha’s side and held him dearly and close. Instead of leaving him alone in his post-traumatized state to fend for himself.

When Stiles had actually spoken the words out loud to Derek himself—not his wolf—he finally realized that he was completely in love with the Alpha, and that somewhere along the line he had started loving him. Needing him, like he needed air. Like everything on the Earth needed gravity. For Derek was in a lot of ways his better half.

At the prolonged eerily silence between them Stiles finally spoke up, “I might not have verbalized it before and perhaps it was because I didn’t have a perfect way to word it, but I do now. You are the person I care for the most,” as the words were spoken the moment felt lost between them, Stiles belatedly realized. The entire pack had woken up by that time and were watching the exchange between them silently. It felt like the moment between them had been stolen. His words got stuck in his throat, his emotions had gotten the best of him as had his realizations. Stiles felt so wholly vulnerable when laying out all of his cards on the table, for everyone to see. Derek’s face still rocked that blank expression he had since Stiles had woken up. And to say the words that hung by mere inches from his lips in front of everyone—when it should be just the two of them—felt wrong.

Derek merely nodded at his admission, but didn’t react or respond otherwise. Even though Stiles could tell that the Alpha knew what Stiles was feeling on the inside—it must have been written all over his face. How he was starting to panic, losing his some semblance of self-control. It hurt Stiles deeply to know and see first-hand how his confession about his true feelings went unrequited. But a more rational part of himself told him that his hurting was nothing in comparison to what he had put Derek through. Therefore Stiles swallowed down his hurt and his pride and reached out for Derek’s hand. Gently taking the werewolf’s hand in his own, and relishing the warmth and feel of it against his own.

“Welcome back Derek,” Lydia was the first to finally speak up, already standing beside them and smiling genuinely at the Alpha. She reached down and placed a gentle hand on Derek’s shoulder, giving a soft squeeze before she made her way out of the house. Soon the others followed, each welcoming their Alpha openheartedly, before they as well made their way out of the house. Each leaving towards their own and in doing so giving the couple the space they much needed. Jackson and Isaac were the last to leave, both concerned, but after a couple of words of warning directed at Stiles, they too left.

Derek and Stiles had retreated to sit back against the sofa, facing the hearth, while they continued their tension-filled silence. Eventually Stiles conceded and broke the silence, “Derek, I am sorry,” he rasped out, and meant it with every fiber of his being.

“I hurt you and I can’t express or explain how very, truly, sorry I am for it. I was wrong and I made a huge mistake. I know I don’t deserve or probably won’t get your forgiveness but can we please move passed this? Or at least try to, please?” Stiles was actually begging, his heart was pounding in his chest, and his eyes were tearing up. It was something he had almost never found himself doing. Not for anyone, and never so easily—to actually beg someone.

“I can’t lose you, not again,” the human’s lips quivered as he spoke. His eyes looking everywhere but at Derek. Terrified of what he might find if he were to look in those beautiful and mesmerizing green eyes.

“Say it,” the Alpha shocked him by suddenly speaking, his voice unwavering. Stiles couldn’t help it when his eyes snapped back to the werewolf’s. His own eyes blown wide in bewilderment.

“That I am sorry?” He questioned brokenly, harshly blinking away the tears that were threatening to fall.

Derek gave an abrupt shake of his head, eyes hardening as he breathed out a long breath. “From before. Say it!” Derek commanded, eyes glowing their terrifying scarlet.

“Der—I, I don’t,” Stiles stammered, physically moving back from the Alpha, as cold fear seeped into his veins. “Don’t understand,” he finished shaking his head in confusion.

His stammering and pulling away apparently didn’t earn him anything but a low warning growl from the werewolf.

“You said you knew how to word it, word it!” Derek had snatched Stiles’ arm into a tight, almost bruising, grip. He wasn’t going to relent on his grip either. Stiles’ eyes widened as the realization behind Derek’s command finally dawned in on him. His jaw worked and he swallowed harshly before he could find his voice again. Fear had taken a death-like hold on him. Would Derek hurt him? With their bond still absent, what if the werewolf didn’t believe him. What if Derek would think Stiles was playing mind games on him?

“Stiles!” The Alpha roared in his face. It made the human jump back in terror, heart thundering dangerously in his rib cage. He was a trembling mess and he was starting to have a panic attack, again. Air seemed like such a luxury at the moment. Stiles’ entire body was shaking horribly and he couldn’t get away. Not with Derek’s grip bruising his arm. This was it, Derek was fed up with him and had had enough. He was going to rip out his throat.

Hell he can even bury me in the back yard! No one will find out, no one who cares about me! They won’t ever find me...

The feel of Derek’s touch, his free hand coming to clasp on Stiles’ face shook him out of his reverie. Derek’s face so close, Stiles could feel the Alpha’s breath against his quivering lips. The crimson shining eyes gazing predatorily into Stiles’ terror-stricken ones. The only lighting came from the hearth and the moonlight making the Wolf’s stoic features seem harsh and sharp, the rough stubble on his face darkening it further.

“I love you,” Stiles spoke on a barely audible whisper at last. Tears from his fright and the tornado of all the feelings that were whirling inside of him, streaked down his gentle features.

However Stiles had expected the Alpha to react, none of it prepared him for what happened next. For Derek’s lips crushed onto Stiles’ in a bruising kiss. Literally taking Stiles’ breath away. Derek’s hand moved further into the human’s hair, and tugged at it almost painfully. Turning Stiles’ head into Derek’s preferable position. The werewolf’s lips moved possessively against his, licking into his mouth forcefully and nipping at his lower lip. It ignited a deep spark within Stiles and with a jolt he was shaken from his fear-induced state to another one of quivering mess. However, this one caused by his quickly awakening arousal. Stiles had to actually push at Derek several times before the Alpha pulled back enough for him to take a breath, and that was all he was allowed—a single breath—before their lips collided once again. When the slighter finally requited Derek’s kiss, their tongues intertwining, Stiles was struck almost blindingly by an unseen force, a crushing load of emotions striking him. Weighing down on him and taking possession of the deepest and farthest parts of his heart and soul. Their bond finally restored. Derek pushed Stiles down onto his back and with a panther like movement lowered himself on top of the slighter. The Alpha’s human nails were replaced by his claws and they were teasingly trailing up Stiles’ sides as Derek’s mouth devoured Stiles’. The pressure behind his claws just enough to leave red markings everywhere they trailed, much like human nails would. But Derek’s were, perhaps a little terrifyingly so, eliciting a raw need and want within Stiles he had never felt before. Just the slight promise of danger behind their touch sent shudders through Stiles’ already trembling body. Jolts of heat shooting through his body and down to his cock. Making it twitch from need. His body was wound too tightly. Every touch too tantalizing, as if it were being seared into his skin.

“Derek,” Stiles pleaded breathily, though his mind wasn’t working properly. He didn’t know what he was pleading for but he knew Derek would understand. His mate would know.

The alpha growled gutturally in response, his chest vibrating. Eyes heated like hot molten lava, boring into Stiles’. With one movement Derek’s claws had torn Stiles’ shirt from his right shoulder curved all the way down to his lower abdomen. Without Stiles even having time to respond his upper body was being lifted up and his shirt ripped from underneath him and tossed away. Stiles’ back hit the design carpet with a thud. Derek’s lips already slanting over his as his claws trailed tantalizingly slow down his abdomen to his belt. When suddenly the Alpha’s lips disappeared from Stiles’, leaving them bruised and cold. Stiles groaned his dislike, though it quickly turned from groaning in displeasure to moaning in utter pleasure. The Alpha’s canines grazing at his overly sensitive nipples. Stiles couldn’t help or prevent the whole-bodily shudder that passed through him at the sensation. Nearly short-circuiting his brains. Sweat was already dripping down all of his body. He was biting harshly into his own lower lip to keep himself from moaning out loud. His left hand clenching into the carpet beneath him, his nails digging in painfully as Derek licked ever so slowly down his abdomen only to stop at his lower abdomen. Then the Alpha started nipping at the sensitive skin, until he had drawn blood to the surface of his skin, leaving his mark. Once satisfied, Derek’s claws came to rest on Stiles’ hips, claws grazing at his jeans, ever so slightly lowering them. While his mate moved his face right above Stiles’ crotch area, looking up at Stiles to make sure he was watching, before he gave a predatory grin. Crimson eyes never leaving Stiles’ as the Alpha slanted his mouth over the buckle on Stiles’ belt. Loosening it with his canines, and with a jerk of his head pulling at the hindering object. The slighter gasped a hitched breath at the sight, his pulse nearing a heart attack. Completely unable to look away from Derek. He could feel bit of pre-cum leaking from his cock. Derek must have noticed it too for he took a single deep breath and growled, eyes snapping up at Stiles. It seemed like he was losing his cool when he finally loosened one of his hands from Stiles’ jeans and tugged Stiles’ belt entirely off. While at the same time his teeth worked at the button on Stiles’ jeans and when unbuttoned, those same terrifying canines moved to lower his zipper. Another shudder ripped through Stiles’ body as he fought to keep some semblance of control. Which was close to none.

“Derek!” Stiles pleaded again, on a high-pitched tone, he could swear his hands were going to start bleeding if he dug his fingers into the carpet any harder. Derek responded by ripping Stiles’ jeans and boxers off in one single and too-fast for human eyes movement. Leaving Stiles completely naked and bare underneath him. Stiles gulped in a quick breath before he moved to pull Derek back. Needing to taste his lips. But before he could do any of that Derek’s tongue was at his scrotum, flattening his tongue he licked an agonizing slow path up Stiles’ cock. Making Stiles moan and mumble incoherently as he suddenly took Stiles fully into his mouth. Bobbing his head once, twice, and stopping with a loud pop.

“Oh my god! Don’t stop!” Stiles whined hoarsely at the sudden loss of Derek’s heated and wet mouth. Just as Stiles looked down to see why in the hell the Alpha had stopped his entire body convulsed at the feel of Derek’s tongue at his entrance. Every so slowly and meticulously rimming his entrance. Driving Stiles slowly livid.

Fuck!” Stiles gasped, eyes squinted shut, his hands digging painfully into Derek’s hair but for the life of him he couldn’t make himself let go or loosen his grip. Derek was his life-line and Stiles was going to sink and drown in the bottomless ocean that was his life without Derek and his goddamn mouth. At the sensation of the Alpha’s tongue entering him, Stiles’ brains completely and utterly melted. Derek’s movements were ruthless and needy, like he couldn’t get enough of his mate. He seemed hell bound on frying all of Stiles’ brain cells. Without any warning Stiles felt a finger enter him, working him open until he relaxed to the feel of having something inside of him again, before he added a second one. The moment his second finger entered Stiles, Derek’s mouth took his member back into his mouth. Sucking harshly and hollowing his cheeks while his fingers worked Stiles from inside. Then furtively added a third finger and quickened his pace. Stiles was a trembling mess, he didn’t know what to do with his hands or what to feel, which sensation to enjoy the most or what—

“Derek please!” Stiles found his voice after a while, quivering and sweat dripping down his forehead, his throat. He was burning up from desire and he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.

The Alpha’s fingers moved if possible even more rapidly inside him and with another pop his mouth abandoned Stiles’ cock. “Please what?” Derek asked in a deep voice. Causing Stiles to almost go over the edge. His lips kissing Stiles’ member agonizingly tender. Stiles’ entire body was going to malfunction. Was he really going to make him say it?

“I-I need you!” Stiles stuttered, pulling at Derek’s arms.

“To what?” The Alpha had the audacity to ask, giving him another predatory smile. Jerk off! He was totally enjoying himself. Seeing Stiles come undone and become incoherent as fuck.

“To fuck me! Fucking hell!” Stiles whined lewdly, his voice sinful. Craning his neck back with his eyes shut in embarrassment. Though frankly he was so hot and bothered he couldn’t really bring himself to care.

“No,” Derek’s voice suddenly cut through his lustful haze. Stiles did his best to stop his body from trembling in want and need but it was all to no avail. He needed his release, but above all he needed Derek!

“Please! Derek I need you, please, please, please,” Stiles was rambling unabashedly, pulling at whatever part of Derek his hands could reach and touch. His heart was sky-rocketing and he felt like he was going to lose his mind from want.  

The jerk-face didn’t respond to him instead he took him back into his mouth, deep-throating him, hollowing his cheeks and sucking harder than before. Stiles squirmed under him and moaned shamelessly at the sensation as he neared his peak. His mate added a fourth finger inside of him and quickened his pace, brushing that oh-so-sweet spot over and over again mercilessly, until Stiles’ orgasm hit him out of nowhere, blinding him. The slighter’s head was thrown back, eyes shut tightly, a loud cry of pure bliss escaping his lips and his feet kicking at nothing in particular as his orgasm rippled through him. Shaking him to his core and scorching every single one of the human’s brain cells. Stiles’ thick, hot, velvety come spurted in Derek’s mouth, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed down every drop. Eyes never leaving Stiles’. The sight alone was enough to make Stiles nearly go hard again.

However, Derek didn’t let him lay there boneless as he was, he slithered up his body and took possession of Stiles’ lips, making him taste himself. It should gross him out, though it didn’t, not when it was Derek doing all of this to him.

“What about you?” Stiles breathed against his mate’s lips, while his forehead rested against Stiles’. Body draped across the slighter’s.

“I want you to fuck me,” Derek spoke casually, though Stiles could detect the heated lust, want and passion underneath his tone. The human started at the brute admission, startled and incapable of reacting.

“Stiles?” Derek spoke his name questioningly and his voice suddenly sounded quite uncertain and if Stiles listened to their bound closely he could even feel the vulnerability behind the Alpha’s words.

“I— are you sure, Derek?” Stiles gulped down his nervousness and the jolt of arousal that shot right to his dick, igniting another wave of searing heat within him. Derek didn’t meet his gaze nor did he reply, not other than giving a nod. His stoic features suddenly seemed flustered and his heart was racing and neither was from what they had just done. He could tell that much.

“Derek, look at me,” Stiles clasped Derek’s cheek softly and willed the werewolf to look at him, wanting, no scratch that needing to see his eyes. To see the heat and want in those eyes himself. Slowly, did Derek look up, his gaze traveling from Stiles’ lips to finally meet his eyes.

“I don’t have a condom on me,” Stiles admitted, swallowing harshly, finding it hard himself to look at Derek’s insanely intense gaze. That look was going to drive him crazy. Derek eyed him like he was the most precious being in his entire life.

“I’m a werewolf Stiles, we don’t get diseases,” the Alpha spoke softly, near whispering.

“I—” Stiles started but fell short.

“I trust you,” Derek spoke genuinely and it made Stiles whine. The gaze he was firing his way was so goddamn intense, Stiles couldn’t take it.

“I— did get tested before,” he started to ramble, looking away from Derek’s captivating gaze, “before the cir— meeting you, I mean.”

Jeesh, way to cock-block yourself, idiot! Stiles berated himself, wanting to slam his head against the nearest wall.  

“I haven’t been with anyone else since then,” Stiles quickly finished his explanation. Even if Derek couldn’t get anything from him—not that Stiles had any STD’s—he still felt like he owed the Alpha the same courtesy.  

Derek’s lips slanted over his own and the Alpha proceeded by rolling them over, his straining cock clearly visible inside his jeans. Stiles groaned just at the mere sight of it. He ground his hips down into Derek’s and the movement alone made his cock half hard again, even if painfully sensitive so. Stiles’ hands roamed up Derek’s sculptured body, feeling up the hard planes of his muscles, and twisting at one nipple from under the Henley the Alpha was wearing. Making the Alpha moan and tremble slightly under his touch. Stiles pulled the offending clothes off without further ado, finally both of them being freed from their clothes and laying completely naked.

“Stiles,” Derek breathed his name like a prayer, pulling himself up to catch Stiles’ lips with his possessive ones.

“Turn around,” Stiles instructed the Alpha, at the confused look that was shot his way, Stiles explained, “It’ll be easier that way,” he said softly, lowering himself and placing a soft, sweet and lingering kiss on his mate’s lips. He was addicted to Derek’s lips. It was like sipping wine from the heavens. He craved Derek’s lips, hungered for their possessiveness. Yearned for how they could be bruising yet soft and gentle. Derek complied and started slowly turning around, rolling onto his stomach. At the gust of air that hit his heated body, he jerked back and looked confusedly at Stiles. Who had gotten to his feet and was kneeling with one knee on the sofa to grab a pillow from on top of it. He then maneuvered back to the Alpha and handed him the pillow.

“Draw your knee up and place this under your belly,” Stiles whispered into Derek’s ear as his hand caressed up Derek’s leg and pulled his knee up, not waiting for Derek. He then proceeded lifting the Alpha flush against his own chest while placing the pillow under his stomach with his free hand. Derek’s body weight partly being supported by his pulled up leg. Stiles was still mentally debating whether this would be a good position to be in but decided that this way Derek could partly lay down while it also made it easier for Stiles to access his entrance. Stiles moved one arm around Derek’s neck and held his middle finger out at Derek.

“Suck,” he rasped filthily, with an authority and boldness that even surprised himself. Derek complied and took his finger into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and sucking just like he had done to Stiles’ member not so long ago. Stiles shuddered at the feel of it and once again he found himself getting lost in Derek. Without warning he pulled his finger free and caressed his hand slowly passed the Alpha’s throat and rested it on his shoulder, holding him, while he leaned down and nipped at Derek’s neck. The Alpha let out a soft moan at the sensation and was writhing under Stiles’ touch. Stiles brought his hand down Derek’s magnificent abs and ran it down over the tight muscle of his ass. Caressing and massaging him until the Alpha relaxed enough that Stiles could run his fingers down his cleft, brushing against his entrance. Derek hissed as Stiles’ finger slowly entered him. His head thrown back, sweat dripping down his back. His hair was stuck and pulled every each way, he looked so undone already. Stiles felt pre-cum already leaving the tip of his member. Derek growled at the scent of his pre-cum. The bastard not even needing to look around.

Stiles quickened his pace, trying to find that sweet spot inside of his mate. “Stiles, hurry,” Derek urged breathily, turning his head to gaze at Stiles. The look of pure heated and lust-glazed glance in the Alpha’s eyes took Stiles’ breath away. Made his breath hitch in his throat when he took in the flustered look on his mate’s face, how completely fucked his hair looked, his lips reddened from where his teeth were biting down on them to silence his moans of pleasure.

“I want you now, Stiles, please,” Derek pleaded earnestly, in a deep and throaty voice. Body trembling with every one of Stiles’ touches.

“Derek, I need to prepare you,” Stiles whined exasperated, pushing a second finger, and thrusting quicker and harder.

“No, I want you now!” Derek growled heatedly, eyes blazing scarlet, canines pushing through.

Stiles obliged and with one swift movement replaced his finger with his own hard, painfully throbbing cock. He thrust in one languid movement until he bottomed out, Derek clenching around him nearly agonizingly tight. He was holding his breath and was deadly still. Stiles caressed every inch of Derek’s body, kissing every reachable part of his mate.

“Der, you need to relax,” Stiles had stilled all of his movements and was holding his breath as well. Fear seeping through him at the thought of hurting Derek.

“It’s okay, don’t worry,” Derek gritted out unconvincingly. Stiles was about to pull out when Derek took his hand tightly into his own, holding it above his head, as he interrupted him. “Please, just give me sec. Just move slowly,” the Alpha prompted him on. Stiles didn’t listen though, well, not immediately. He massaged Derek’s lower back, his hands gently sliding down to the curve of his ass, then moved to his sides, rubbing lingering circles into the soft, delicate skin underneath his fingers. Cherishing every inch of Derek’s body he got to feel. Stiles’ own body trembling as he felt the shudders of pleasure ripple through his mate. All of it being elicited because of him. His lips placed chaste kisses all over Derek’s shoulders, nipping and kissing again and again. He then moved his lips to the Alpha’s neck, trailing his tongue slowly up to his ear. Nipping at his earlobe until Derek’s shoulders finally eased somewhat, tension slowly leaving his body while Stiles’ hands massaged him. When Stiles thought his mate had relaxed enough he lifted Derek’s upper body flush against his own chest, turned his face back towards him and pulled him into a heated kiss. While very slowly thrusting into his mate, his movements gentle and controlled. It took all of his self-control to accomplish such.

“Stiles,” Derek whined his name, turning away from him and placing his weight on his hands and knees as he got up from his position on the floor. When Derek relaxed completely and was used to Stiles’ feel inside of him at last, Stiles quickened the pace. Slamming into the Alpha as he demanded from Stiles to go harder and faster.

Their bodies were slick from sweat and the sound of slamming skin against skin echoed through the living room. Stiles lost himself in the enthralling sensation and feel of Derek’s body, still clenching ever so tightly around him. He pushed the Alpha down and held him down as he fucked into him with a ruthless rhythm. Grinding his hips down remorselessly. Knowing and feeling through their bond how Derek enjoyed every second of it, every thrust.

“Say it,” Stiles whispered Derek’s own words harshly into his ears.

Derek moaned as Stiles hit his soft spot over and over again, slamming deep and hard into him, still pounding into his mate fast-paced. He was going to make Derek say it before he allowed him the pleasure of coming.

“Say it!” He commanded savagely, pushing Derek down against the floor and hardened his thrusts. He kept holding him down. His movements near brutal. Derek let out a cross between a moan and a ragged growl, his body giving a whole-bodily shudder. Shaking unstoppably. Without even thinking about it Stiles had bitten down on Derek’s neck, puncturing through skin, Derek’s blood coating his mouth. All of his instincts in that moment telling him to do it. It had felt delightfully gratifying when he felt something entirely new flooding through their bond.

“I love you,” the Alpha moaned huskily. “I love you, Stiles,” he repeated like a mantra as Stiles kept pounding into him until they both were over the edge at the same time. Stiles’ hand quickly closed around Derek’s shooting member and pumped it fast and hard until they were both too quivering messes to move. Derek howling with satisfaction. His own load coating Derek’s insides. Stiles literally fell completely spent on top of the Alpha. Pulling out of the Alpha, he rolled himself to the side, and let his eyes trail down Derek’s exhausted and spent face. Gently caressing his sweaty dark locks out of his face, Stiles leaned in to place a kiss on Derek’s cheek. Though simultaneously the Alpha had turned to his side and captured Stiles’ mouth into a passionate and deep kiss of his own. His hands gently massaging Stiles’ scalp. Stiles threw one leg around Derek’s hip and pulled him closer to himself. As he put his arm around Derek’s neck, he suddenly remembered of him biting down on the Alpha’s neck. With a jerk he pulled back and eyed Derek anxiously.

“Derek?” Stiles searched his mate’s eyes for any signs of hurt or anger but found nothing but fondness in them, that and something way more intricate than fondness.

“You gave me your claiming bite, Stiles,” Derek smiled brilliantly, one that actually reached his eyes. The palpable happiness Stiles was feeling through their bond, visible in the Alpha’s beautiful, loving eyes.

“I— I didn’t hurt you?” Stiles questioned, but then remembered the sudden urge and overwhelming instinct he had had. “It was my instinct, I-I,” Stiles rushed out, nearly forgetting how to breathe.  

“It is. You’re my mate Stiles and you’ve given me your claiming bite. You’ve accepted me and my wolf,” Derek without a pause pulled him in for the longest kiss they had yet shared.

Chapter Text

Allison Argent was dabbing at the wounds on her father’s body. He flinched every time the gauze with alcohol touched his wounds. “That stings like a mother—” he swore, as he gritted his teeth. Allison saw her father clench his fist every time she was about to near his wounds.

“Sorry dad,” she replied emphatically. “I still don’t know why they threatened us, we were only trying to help those morons. When is it going to be enough?” She thought out loud, shaking her head dejectedly.
She knew they had made a lot of mistakes in the past, misled by her treacherous aunt Kate, who had jumped at the chance of becoming the head leader of the Argent Clan after her mother had, supposedly, died. That’s how things worked within hunter families. The eldest woman were the appointed leaders whist the men were simply the hunters, who hunted the monsters. Kate had started up the circus project and had fed her the lies that all werewolves were vile, murderous creatures.

Recently I learned that not all werewolves are like that. Isaac isn’t murderous for a start.

Allison was fondest of Isaac, as much as she could be fond of werewolves. He’d never harmed anyone as far as she knew and he hardly wolfed out like, for instance Derek. She almost felt bad for this curse that Isaac had—Lycanthropy. She and her dad were making amends for all that was wrong. Even though it wasn’t all theirs to amend for. Gerard Argent had quite a few amends to make of his own, though he wouldn’t own up to them.

“I wish we could do more about all this mess dad, but we simply do not have the means.” Allison really wanted to do more, but they were quite poor at this very moment. They couldn’t rely on anyone else but themselves. Apparently they did another thing to piss off Stiles. He had told her father loud and clear how he pinned the death of his own father on their family.

Yet another thing to make amends for.

Allison sighed, as she continued dabbing the wounds with alcohol. She then started applying gauze on the bigger wounds, strapping them down with bandages. Smaller nicks and cuts had gotten band aids stuck on them.

“There dad, all patched up,” she said with a slight smile. “Though I still don’t know why the twin wolves went rampant…” Allison thought back to the time that the wolves named Ethan and Aiden had come crashing on their car while they hurried to Derek’s house to give the good news. Instead they nearly got clawed to death. Luck was not on their side. Allison put the first aid kit away. She was glad she didn’t have to suture, it was her least favourite thing. As she rejoined her father at the kitchen table, a steaming mug of tea was awaiting her.

“Thanks for the tea,” she sat down warming and steadying her hands on the mug. The clock was ticking overly loud, due to the eerie silence that hung in the kitchen. Neither really knowing what to do or say next.

“I was thinking, if Kate’s dead, as well as mom…shouldn’t I be the head of the family now? Then why is Gerard still pulling the strings?” she wondered out loud. Her gaze left her mug and locked on her dad.

“I can’t comprehend why he holds all the money. It should rightfully be ours. We need it dad,” she said, looking at the stack of bills behind Chris. Her head ached from all the worries she had. The angst and terror that they could at any given time be hunted by either werewolves or other hunters, ate away at her. Not knowing how to properly make amends without any resources. Not knowing if anything would ever be all right. All she knew for certain, was that she would have her dad, but not even that seemed to be a given certainty due to their current circumstances. She slowly resolved the chaos in her mind.

I am weak, too weak and soft. What I need is a heart of steel, to do what has to be done .To lead this family as mother would have. She resolved herself to be like her mother, to be strong and lead the family, at any cost. Allison stalked out of the room, leaving Chris to himself. She felt like she had to do something, this very instant, otherwise she would go mad due to her thoughts and emotions. Picking up the phone she dialled the number of the one person who could fix it. She waited impatiently for the other person to pick up.

“This phone is out of service,” an automatic voice operator told her. Allison redialled the number two more times before she conceded. The phone number was simply no longer in use.

“That bastard!” She stepped back into the room swearing. She stopped when she noticed her father was looking at her oddly.

“What?” she exclaimed out of frustration. The frustration that was all bottled up inside her, slowly came out in fits and bouts, especially in situations where her annoyances peaked.

“Nothing,” her father calmly said. “Just wondering why you’re randomly cussing,” Chris spoke flatly.
He continued opening the letters containing the bills, which he sorted in certain stacks. Allison hadn’t even deciphered how he stacked them, simply because she had other things on her mind, like the person who had vanished into thin air.

“I tried to call grandfather, though apparently he’s out of a phone number.” Aggravated, she sat down in the chair and automatically started shredding envelopes while giving the contents to her father to stack. She glanced over the pile and noticed there even was a coupon pile.

Are we really in such dire straits?

Allison had adopted a new Argent and hunter motto, after the whole shit storm with the Circus and the after math. “We protect those, who can’t protect themselves,” she muttered, lost in thoughts.

How can we protect those who can’t protect themselves, if we can’t even fend for ourselves?

“We need to get access to everything that Gerard has. But how?” Allison felt annoyed but she knew that her father was thinking just as hard, or perhaps even harder and thoroughly than she was.

Chris scratched his throat. “We have to hack the system.” As if that was the easiest solution and answer to getting access. It actually was though, but that didn’t make the actual execution easy.

“What system?” Allison asked her father. She never really pertained herself to the IT-works that was the system of the hunters. Allison could access it, partially but of course Gerard had the full rights to it now. It was one of the many things that Kate so conveniently had delegated to her grandfather.

“You can do that?” Allison asked him. A second question popped up soon after. “Where is this system?” She felt a sudden spark of hope, radiating through her steeled heart.

The softness will fade eventually.

“The main server was in Argenton.” Chris told her. “I think it will most likely still be there, though I don’t exactly know the location,” he added. Her father said that it was more Kate’s handiwork than his. He’d simply be the hunter, as was customary. Chris did have more access than Allison did at this point, so he’d dive into it while she made them diner. Allison had gotten a bit of info from her father but they would continue researching Argenton and the base that was hidden away. So that was how they started plotting their master plan, on regaining their funds. Allison poised to shift into action once it was all planned out.




Peter Hale was annoyed. He and Cora had travelled to Argenton but they had been unable to find the hidden base of the Argents. In an ode to Victoria and Cora’s stay there, they decided they had wanted to demolish it.

“How can you not know where the base is Cora, you were there before.” Peter was frustrated profusely by his niece. He’d hoped to find the base, rip it apart, and get back again. People would only suspect that they were on a ‘vacation’ for so long, if they stayed away abnormally long, people would start to notice.

“It has been a while and maybe they relocated!” She shouted at Peter.

His niece had been obnoxiously insurgent the closer they got to Argenton. Once in Argenton she had become downright rebellious, refuting anything Peter said or asked of her. Even though he had endorsed her idea of visiting the base in Argenton. For days they had been circling the same area, looking for entrances into the underground base. To Peter’s chagrin, they had found nothing and time was running out for them. He really did not want to get on his alpha stripes and deny his niece this, but he would if he had to. Appearances were everything to him, it would keep his pack safe, and thus himself.

“We only have a couple of days left. Just so you know.”

He dressed accordingly to the terrain and stepped out, for another day of searching.




Two days later, his phone rang. It was an unknown number, so Peter picked it up. His phone was a throw away phone in case his number were to be tracked. He’d given the number to only two other people, the twins. Knowing the aforementioned information, he was surprised to hear a voice he hadn’t heard in quite some time.

“Is this Peter Hale?” Allison Argent asked on the other side of the line.

His breath was calm and collected, just like he was. Peter waited a while before responding.

“Why do you want to know?” He replied, knowing full well that she would also recognize his voice. He didn’t like the idea of any Argent getting his number.

“Who did you torture to get this number?” Peter teased. “Did you shock the twins? Did you cuff them like you cuffed the others?” He knew exactly what he was doing, pushing the aggravation buttons on Allison Argent.

“Actually, I tried courtesy and asked around, calling in a few favours,” she sassily retorted. Allison deliberately paused on the other side of the line, to apparently give him a piece of his own medicine.

“No, if you must know Peter, we helped your nephews pack with one of their issues… So a certain beta owed us something in return. So we only asked him to retrieve the number of one of your subordinates. Who apparently hates our guts enough to start attacking at random. Thus the circle is complete, satisfied with the answer?”

Peter had to laugh at that. “That kind of sounds like the twins, impulsive as ever.” He would have to remind them to keep themselves on the down low. Peter didn’t want to have another run in with hunters, of any kind, for quite a while.

“Okay, depending on what you’re going to ask of me, I will decide if this phone lives another day or not.”

Though suspicious as he was, he’d destroy the phone anyway. He awaited Allison’s answer.

“Well, let’s just say we have a common interest. We know you’re in Argenton, apparently looking for something. If that specific something, happens to be the operation quarters of the Argents, then we might have something to help you with that, granted that we have a few conditions of our own, what do you have got to say to that Peter?” Allison finished her lengthy response, sounding confident as ever.

“Okay, first off, how do I know this isn’t a trap? You apparently have Intel on us, and I don’t really want to become one of your pet wolves again. Secondly, why would you even call me, simply to tell me that you know that I’m snooping around here,” Peter hadn’t even thought of denying his intentions. It was beneath him to be vexed about that.

“Unless…..” Peter’s mind worked overtime. “Unless you don’t know where it is either!” He exclaimed through the phone. Gripping it frantically. “But that leaves me with how you knew I was here…” Peter knew he had leverage now.

“Tell me that bit first, before I even consider this… proposition of yours,” he licked his lips excitedly. Cora was as still as a mouse, as she was containing all of her questions—it seemed— while Peter was on the phone. To assure her, Peter mouthed, ‘Later.’

Unable to contain herself, Cora started moving about the cottage while Peter awaited Allison. He knew he had Allison in the palm of his hand. Being in control made him feel good and he would now try to get the most optimal. Allison confessed everything, she seemed desperate enough to confide in Peter. She had explained to him how her father had limited access to the secret base that they recently had learned of. Reports of Peter and Cora being in the vicinity were accessible to him, so they had monitored him. Her father had quickly deduced that they were there, trying to find the facility as well. They decided then and there to establish contact with Peter and possibly get his help for their plan.

After deciding that this was too elaborate to lie, Peter agreed for a meeting. The conditions were that Allison and Chris would enter with them. They would have a truce for the time being and the other condition was that no hardware was destroyed, because they apparently had plans with it. Apart from that, Peter and Cora were kindly obliged to go rampant as much as they want. They spoke of coordinates and a specific time. After the conversation ended, Peter’s fist crunched the phone into nothingness.

Let the twins feel a little despair when they can’t get back to me. Plus, if the Argents falter, nobody could track his phone.

Peter relayed everything to Cora, and thus they stayed in that day. There was no need to search any more when the Argent’s had images of the surroundings, until they had those, there was no point in even going out.The day after they had a stake-out at the rendezvous point, just to be certain that it was a safe place.





Allison hung up, feeling smug. Peter had done exactly as she had predicted. She knew him better than Peter, or even she thought. She’d withheld specific information from Peter. Her father had managed to get a bit of information that was crucial. At one point the facility had realigned its walls with mountain ash, making sure wolves couldn’t get in or out. Especially the latter was the reason why it was stationed within the thick walls. Chris had deducted that it had something to do with Victoria and Cora, amongst others. They started packing their bags, for their departure in two days. They scrapped all of their remaining cash for one last effort. It was do or die now, so to speak, but mayhaps literally.


As they landed at the airport, they arranged a rental car that drove them all the way to Argenton. They didn’t have enough money for a proper place, so they had brought camping gear.

Low budget, for the win. Allison had come up with that idea, so they could ration their last bit of money onto more important things. Comfort was the last thing they needed now. They didn’t fly first class, nor did they get a very expensive car. It felt very humbling to Allison who was used to the major trust fund of the Argent family. Luckily dealing with camping gear was hunter 101 training so she at least knew what to do and how to survive.


They had met Peter the day after at the proclaimed rendezvous point. It was a tense experience. Their temporary allies were very apprehensive of them, which was only logical. Allison had hoped that things would be slightly less tense as she had allowed Peter to delude himself into thinking he had all the cards, while in fact they did.


“So, are you guys prepared?” Allison courteously asked.

Peter flicked his claws out. “This is all we need,” he simply stated.

She thought that was the most she would get out of it, so she relayed the images to Cora and Peter.

“Recognize any of this?” She had picked photographs that had specific landmarks that stood out. After watching a few, Cora and Peter knew enough to pinpoint the base to a more exact area.

“Follow us, and try to keep up.” Stoically, Peter and Cora walked away from the Argents and into the woods. Not before long, did they discover a few exact spots where camera’s appeared to be sending a feed to the base. Peter and Cora didn’t have much trouble finding it, from the amount of time they had spent in the woods.

“It has to be around here,” Peter whispered.

Chris and Ally looked around the area. They knew the tell-tales of their hunter clan. On one of the rocks there was a small indenture, which was slightly faded. Allison recognized it clearly as the Argent family symbol.

“This way,” Allison said, leading the others into the proper direction. “Seems our collaboration has its merits,” she taunted Peter. As much as Peter tried to one-up her, she returned the favor to him. Peter simply gave her the cold shoulder, he was too poised on his surroundings and what lay ahead.

“For the record, I’m not too thrilled about this, but I have to admit that you could’ve saved us a lot of time Argents,” Cora omitted. They walked to a small crevice in the wall that seemed to be a bears Den. Though by the markings on the wall next to it, it clearly wasn’t. As Allison and Chris stepped into the cave, Peter and Cora however, did not. Moreover, they could not.

“Well, come inside then?” Allison taunted Peter, with her arms folded.

Peter had grit his teeth. “I can’t.”

“Well, isn’t that a shame. Maybe it’s because of this?” Allison squatted and swept the floor with her hand. There was a sheet of Plexiglas covering a thin black, powdery line. It was mountain ash.

“You lying b—” Peter hissed antagonized.

“Now, now Peter,” Allison tsked. “Don’t be like that.” She knew time was running out so the charade had to be cut short.

“To show that we are a changed family, we’ll show you our new founded code.” She grabbed the gun from her hip holster and shot through the Plexiglas. Shattering the thin line of mountain ash, which also allowed them to get in. Her father had walked up ahead to disable the security lasers.

“You’re welcome,” she hollered as she walked away from the two werewolves. They were on their own now and Allison had her own agenda.

“How’s the security dad?” She asked Chris. Just after she made the query, the lasers were shut down.

“Is that fast enough for you?”

She nodded and stepped forward, as her father watched with pride. This was how hunter women were, demanding and leading the men. With this new sudden confidence Allison entered the facility. Only a few guardsmen later, they had found the room they needed.

“Security is not what it used to be,” she said out loud as she dragged the two surveillance guards into a corner. She shoved one chair towards the computers which her father used to seat himself. He quickly started typing away as he tried to hack into the mainframe. Her father wasn’t a master hacker, though he knew enough to bypass some security measures, which would give him access to the specific files they needed, or so they had hoped.

Allison’s job was easier. She simply had to make sure no one entered the room, so she had closed it from the inside and barred it with whatever she could. The other part was monitoring the cameras. She clearly saw the reason for why security had seemed so low, apart from the blaring siren which she had turned off in the security room. Cora and Peter were rampant and the guards had their hands full with the twosome.

They were profusely good in disrupting the guards, that they didn’t even notice that their security HQ was captured by Allison and her father.

“How’s it coming along dad? I don’t know how long we can stay unnoticed,” she inquired.

“Allison, it’s hard, but it’s not like I’m not doing my best.” Her father was curt, but he was too invested into his current activities.

Allison scanned the screens, there were so many that she basically could view almost everything. Something caught her eye, when she saw a small room that had a desk with someone sitting behind it. It seemed to be an older man and he looked familiar to her, though she couldn’t quite place him. Her attention gathered towards that particular screen as the door burst open with men she didn’t recognize. They looked utmost covert. The unknown men roughly grabbed the man at the desk and slammed him into the desk. As the man was being jostled, he turned his face directly towards the camera and was quickly dragged away. The whole thing seemed like a cinematic film to Allison. Her grandfather was here, hiding right under their noses and now he was taken away buy a weird, covert group. Her father snapped her out of it.

“I just can’t do it Allison, we need someone else to look at this,” he told her matter of factly as he unplugged the external disk that they had brought along as a safety measure. Frustrated she glanced at the screens again, noticing that their window of safety might possibly end sooner rather than later.

“Fine, let’s retreat.”







“Stiles, calm down,” Derek spoke reassuringly from behind him, whilst his own eyes were glued on the mirror in front of him.

“Calm down? Are you crazy?” Stiles exclaimed exasperated, rolling his tongue over his very much human teeth. Pulling back and away from the mirror he turned around and pointed an accusing finger at Derek’s—not so healing—throat. “That isn’t normal!”

Derek just rolled his eyes at him, crossing his arms in front of his broad, muscled chest defensively. “Stiles... we’ve been over this,” Derek spoke on a sigh, raising an eyebrow at him.

Stiles was pulling at his own hair and scratching irritably at his scalp, the sound of it obviously annoying the werewolf. “What if I have rabies?” He threw his hands in the air, eying Derek daringly.

Derek literally face-palmed at the remark of his mate. “For the freakin’ last time, you do not have rabies,” Derek flung his own hands in the air out of frustration. “And NO, you are not turning into a zombie either and you’re most definitely not turning into a cannibal, Stiles, for fucks sake,” Derek groaned, letting his hands fall to his sides in defeat.

“Then— then why is your neck, you know my mark,” Stiles rambled pointing in Derek’s general direction, “why isn’t it healing? You’re an Alpha and I’m a human with human teeth,” Stiles stepped back the same time Derek had stepped forward. His index-finger subconsciously feeling at his teeth whilst mentioning them.

“Because it’s a claiming bite, it’s supposed to heal at a slower pace and it will leave a visible scar,” his Alpha explained to him with more patience than Stiles had expected his mate to have by now. At hearing that the wound would eventually heal, Stiles, visibly relaxed. Although another thought probed at his brains which were already in overdrive.

“Am I claimed? I mean, we all submitted to, you know, Wolf-you.”


Stiles was about to throw his fist in the air from relief and in total excitement at hearing that, yes, he was already claimed, and thus he didn’t have to deal with anything else. That was until the word ‘no’ left Derek’s lips.

“You just said no,” Stiles informed the Alpha and squinted at him with expectant eyes. Awaiting Derek to correct his little slip whilst he made a ‘go-on’ gesture with his hand.

“I know,” Derek frowned at the slighter, slightly confused. His brows knitted together.

“Yeah but, you know that the word ‘no’ is negative, right? It usually disagrees with or dismisses whatever that has been said before it,” Stiles continued to explain, as if the Alpha didn’t know any of that already.

“Stiles,” Derek sighed his name in annoyance and scowled at him.

“No way! You are not going to do that to this sexy throat! Nope!” Stiles quickly stepped away from him. Covering both sides of his neck with his hands.

Derek groaned and gave up as he walked out of the bathroom and ventured towards his study. Which Stiles counted as a win.



Stiles walked up to the brooding Alpha, who was seated behind his bureau plat, frowning with laser beams down at the monitor in front of him. Derek was cracking his knuckles restlessly. Putting an arm around the werewolf’s shoulder, Stiles, leaned in over his shoulder to gaze at whatever it was that had Derek brooding.

“Derek,” Stiles began and leaned in further to place a chaste kiss on his Alpha’s jawline. Unable to prevent himself from placing another right under his earlobe.

‘Stiles?” Derek questioned his presence, pulling slightly away from him.

“I’m heading home,” he manoeuvred himself around the Alpha’s grand chair and sat down across Derek’s lap shamelessly. Finally able to pull his gaze towards his own. Derek nodded at him in understanding.

“I need to pick up some clothes, freshen up and then dress up,” Stiles further explained, “there’s a corporate event at the Stilinski Corp’s headquarters in NYC, a small gathering thing,” he dismissed it quickly as unimportant. Though this was a matter that was of very importance to Stiles and his company. His multinational corporation was as of now producing in 48 countries. With its headquarters set in New York where all types of products were designed, manufactured and distributed. It was doing business in over 186 countries and had gained a number of joint-ventures including SC of Russia, SC South Africa, SC India, Shanghai SC, and China SC. The Stilinski Corp acted outside of the U.S. through wholly owned subsidiaries, though operated through numerous joint-ventures in Russia and China. Just in NYC alone the company employed over 307.000 employees.

As of late the Argent lawsuit was dealt with and a counter subpoena was served against the entire Argent Corporation. Which all in all made a valid reason for throwing a corporate event. Not to mention after all the events they had gone through, Stiles honestly needed this. Just this one night of normalcy, being back at his company, all the werewolf and supernatural crap just put aside for a moment. Returning to the big city amongst the people who had helped and supported him to get to the place he was at right now. Even though learning about the existence of the modified bracelets had been like a punch to the gut for him, he had dealt with that horror straight-on, from the second he had found out about it. So with that put in the past and behind them it was time to move on and do what he did best.  

Derek’s soft voice broke Stiles out of inner reverie. “Okay, have fun,” he spoke and returned his attention back to the monitor. It wasn’t the reaction Stiles had expected or hoped to receive. In fact it was the complete opposite of it.

“Derek, I’m coming back to pick you up. I was hoping for us to go to this event together,” Stiles admitted, despite his nerves. Pulling the werewolf’s face towards his own, yet again.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Derek looked down at him, his displeasure clearly radiating off his eyes.

“Why not? We are a couple, are we not?” Stiles questioned confusedly at the Alpha though didn’t allow him to reply as he spoke his mind, “Before, when I said that it’s a small gathering I might have bended the truth a bit. This event is huge and it means a lot to me Derek. I have to be there and I’d preferably attend it with you by my side.” Stiles got off the werewolf’s lap and leaned back against the serpent front of the bureau plat, crossing his arms in front of him.

“I know you weren’t truthful, the bond remember,” Derek replied agitated and leaned back further into the leather chair. The movement created numerous of questions at the back of Stiles’ mind. As well as Derek’s sudden agitated state. What was even the cause for that?

“Derek,” Stiles started and was about to voice his worries when Derek cut him off.

“I’m not going to attend an event at a corporation that celebrates the manufacturing of tracking bracelets for prisoners,” Derek scoffed and pushed his chair back, then immediately got to his feet. It seemed he was putting as much as possible space between them, as the werewolf started pacing about the study room.

A corporation?” Stiles fired back indignantly, “that’s my corporation you’re speaking of, Derek.” Stiles straightened himself up, fixing the Alpha with a glare.

“I’m aware of that,” the werewolf all but growled out, for a second his eyes blazing scarlet as they burned into Stiles’.

“I didn’t create those modified versions Derek, I destroyed them the second I found out, remember,” Stiles didn’t even realize that his hands were shaking. Whether from anger or hurt, he didn’t know. His admission to the Alpha caught him by surprise, because all of a sudden he felt like he was being blamed for something he had no control over.

“Stiles, go to the event. I’m not stopping you or asking you not to attend it,” Derek huffed and stopped in his tracks. The muscle in his jaw ticking despite the mask of calm that had befallen his features.

“Derek I’m not going to regret or apologize for my creation. That is not to say that I don’t resent what the Argents did to it, but that was beyond my knowledge. But this corporation you speak so lowly and disdainfully of, is my entire life and all of my hard work. It is a huge part of me,” Stiles’ eyes were pleading with the Alpha’s. In his mind he was repeating over and over again the thought ‘not this again’. He couldn’t believe that they were arguing, again. It was fucking endless.

“Just like being a prisoner with an explosive bracelet punctured into my flesh and bone, was a huge part of me!” Derek fired back, his mask of calm and collected vanishing from his face like frost under the morning sun.

“I don’t care how big a part of your life your corporation is to you, Stiles. I’m not going to be a part of that or celebrate it, ever,” Derek spoke succinctly. Leaving no room for any arguments.

Fuck! It’s just one night Derek. One fucking night of normalcy,” Stiles exclaimed utterly frustrated. He was so over and done with walking on egg-shells.

“Go, by all means, go. You’ll get your normalcy soon enough,” Derek threw his hands in the air, as if he was throwing in the towel and not just because of this conversation either.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Stiles couldn’t help when the reaction slipped from his mouth.

“It means that your life will be back to normal, like it used to be,” the Alpha turned his back on him. Not even bothering to look him straight in the face.

“What the fuck, I’m just—” Stiles sighed tiredly, his hands massaging his temple before they dropped to his sides in surrender. “I’m lost Derek. Help me out here, what did I do wrong?” He figured straight-up asking was apparently the only way he was going to get a real answer out of the Alpha.

“You didn’t do anything wrong Stiles. You did everything that is in your right and I’ll have to respect that,” the werewolf turned around to face him, a resigned look marring his stoic features.

“And what’s that Derek?”

“I will do as you asked. I won’t give you the claiming bite. It’ll take time, but the more we’ll get apart the sooner the bond will die. Then you should have your old life back in no time.”

The final admission—behind Derek’s agitation and closed of behaviour—felt like the fog of confusion was at last clearing from Stiles’ mind, however, at the same time it felt like a punch to the gut. One that left him breathless, with his pulse racing and his mind screaming at him to fix this mess. Nonetheless, a very tiny part of him did genuinely question whether he wanted that claim on him. It was a final thing. This here, right now, seemed like Stiles’ out. One he had secretly pondered about in the beginning of things. Whether it was even possible and if so how Stiles could achieve it. But he loved Derek, so why would he question it now.

“But I gave you my claiming,” the betraying words left his lips before his brains had registered what the hell he was saying.

“It won’t matter. You’ll be free of it.” Derek gave him a sad, and perhaps a tad bitter, smile. It looked so unhinged and wrong on the Alpha’s face. When Stiles knew what that same face looked like when Derek would give a genuine smile, sometimes even unable to reign in his happiness. Overtaken by the sudden joy he felt at something stupid Stiles did or say, just to see that smile on the werewolf’s handsome face. Now, he, was the cause for that bitter and sad look tainting the Alpha’s features. Ever so slowly did his words sink in. The slight emphasis dawning in on him.

“But you won’t be,” Stiles voiced the unspoken truth behind Derek’s admission.

“It won’t matter. At least I’ll know that you’re safe and happy, and I can live with that.” Derek’s determined words gently washed over him and it pulled at the strings of his heart to hear the Alpha, his Alpha, say that. As if Stiles had already called the shot and had given up on him, on them.

All of a sudden as if struck by lightning Stiles started shaking his head vehemently. He wasn’t going to stand here and listen to Derek, his freaking strong and sometimes terrifying Alpha, getting heartbroken all over again. Being betrayed or blamed or anything because of Stiles’ foolishness. Not this time he wasn’t going to act ignorant and oblivious to the shit he was spitting.

“No. We’re not doing this. I know what I said before and I’ll admit it terrifies me to get a claiming bite, obviously, because yours is still staring at my face hauntingly, and it’s just yuck—” Stiles’ body shivered in probably disgust. “Oh my god, please just cover it up,” Stiles blurted out but then the light behind his eyes finally lit up as he looked up and held his hands up in surrender, “But my point being, yes I have a point, I survived a bullet wound. And I survived watching you being all gutted and all, and we’re still here. You’re still here and I love you. I love you so much it’s like blowing my brains into oblivion. So no! Fuck no to giving up and being apart—” his endless word vomit was put to an end by Derek’s lips crushing against his, and silencing him the fuck up, finally. Which Stiles could totally live with, forever.


Stiles was putting his dark gray coat on and watched Derek leaning against the wall of the hallway.

“So, you’re really not going to come along?” He dared to ask after taking several deep, calming breaths. Derek just shook his head, arms crossed in front of him casually.

“Saying ‘I love you’ isn’t going to do wonders and make miracles happen, Stiles,” Derek informed him, not relenting.

“I know. Wasn’t expecting it either, but where does this leave us?” Stiles was buttoning up his coat then reached to grab his scarf.

Derek bit down on his lower lip in consideration before he finally replied, “Don’t worry about it. It just makes us a work in progress, besides now isn’t the time to have another discussion,” the werewolf pulled away from his position against the wall and approached him. Taking his scarf from out of his hands, he placed it around him with great care and used it as leverage to pull Stiles in.

“Have fun,” the Alpha spoke against his lips before he leaned in and placed a lingering kiss against them.

“I’ll call you before heading home,” Stiles replied with a smile that matched the Alpha’s. Derek gave a curt nod but stopped Stiles from leaving, his hold on Stiles arm halting him in his tracks.

“Stiles, it might be for the best to be apart from one another for at least a couple of days,” Derek admitted to him, his eyes searching Stiles’ for comprehension perhaps. Stiles wasn’t sure. All he was sure about was that if he didn’t leave soon he might do or say something he’d without a doubt end up regretting. On one hand he could give Derek his time and space, of course he could. However, on the other hand it felt like an icy vice-like fist was gripping around his throat. Crushing the air out of him. He just nodded his head furiously in reply before he darted out of the house. The sensation only growing in its intensity. Adding to his former nerves, as a chill went down his spine.

Stiles pulled his phone from his pocket to call Lydia’s number, as he hurried towards his Jeep. Once seated safely inside his vehicle, he didn’t hesitate to race through the forest that surrounded the Alpha’s house. When he was out of the range of werewolf hearing abilities he quickly called Lydia.

“You better be ready, Stilinski,” Lydia’s threatening tone broke through the eerie silence of his car.

“He’s not coming,” Stiles blurted out, swallowing around the lump in his throat. Man the fuck up, Stiles! He berated himself and slammed his fist against the steering wheel harshly, needing to let off some steam.

“Oh no, honey… you okay?” Lydia’s voice took on a concerned note, the shuffling sounds on the background quickly dying down.

“Yes, fine. I’m just gonna be a little late, that’s all,” Stiles spoke resolutely and straight to the point. Mentally feeling relieved at how his voice sounded way stronger than he was actually feeling. Good. Perhaps he could fake his way through the event.

“Okay, I’ll let the captain know that we’re going to have a bit of a delay. See, once again it’s proven that having your own personal jet is a great idea,” she spoke firmly.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Stiles allowed himself a faint smile, “thanks Lyds,” he added sincerely after a brief pause.

“My pleasure, see you in a bit and drive carefully!” She replied kindly before hanging up.



A couple of days had passed since Ethan and Aiden had driven away from Hale’s house. Back at their alpha’s place, they were temporarily left all by themselves. Currently watching a game on the ridiculously large TV screen, Aiden reached out to take some more popcorn.

“So, are you going to tell him?” Ethan asked after a long while, between taking a swig off his with-wolfsbane-spiked beer. It took several of moments for Aiden to even register the fact that his twin had spoken, and even longer to realize that he had asked a question, apparently.

“Huh?” Aiden turned his face to the side, frowning deeply, though he was unable to pull his eyes away from the game.

“Jackson. Are you going to tell him about how you beat the crap out of Argent, just for him?” Ethan spoke on a sigh though didn’t back down to further explain and question.  

“No—” Aiden started and as if on cue his team scored which had Aiden jumping off the couch, popcorn thrown into the air and raining down on Ethan’s head.

“Yes! Finally! That’s what I’m talking about!” Aiden shouted at the top of his lungs, hands thrown in the air in absolute joy and pride. Ethan’s questions all but forgotten.


All in all it turned out to be a brilliant game, their team had won. The other team hadn’t even gotten close to winning. This little win fuelled Aiden’s excitement to the point that he relented and gave in to the idea of drinking beer with wolfsbane-crap in it. Twelve bottles later, they were both laying lifelessly on the sofa. They had to lay down all crunched and tangled up in order for both of them to fit on the sofa. A loud knock sounded from the front door and had Aiden squinting at the interfering object—the front door. Kicking at Ethan he willed for his brother to get of his ass and open the door. Being the wonderful twin he was, Ethan, got to his feet. Well actually stumbled to stand up, half fell down, then stopped moving all together mid-air until he’d found his ‘balance’.

Opening the front door, Aiden, heard his brother’s intake of breath in surprise. “We’ve brought beer,” Danny’s voice came from the front door. It made Aiden physically relax and let go of a breath he didn’t know he had been holding.

“He brought beer,” Jax’s voice boomed across the house as he stepped in, moving passed Danny, “I brought vodka,” the sound of his arrogant voice alone had Aiden wide awake. Slowly getting up to his feet he finally eyed their visitors. Noticing the apologetic glance across his twin’s face.

“So, what have you two been up to,” Danny asked, smiling genuinely at Ethan as they walked away towards the kitchen. Leaving Jackson and Aiden all alone.


“You look like crap,” Jackson remarked with an indignant raise of his eyebrow before he walked across the living room and sat down on the sofa. Sitting back and making himself at home as he pulled his legs up and put them on the coffee table.

“And I still look better than you do,” Aiden managed to slur then proceeded to sit his ass back down on the sofa. Fully intending on reclaiming his place on the sofa.

“You wish,” Jax replied with a smirk, pushing at him playfully. Just like that everything was okay between them, once again. They fell back into their usual snarky, smart-ass and playful banter. Drinking and talking smack, nothing seemed to ever change between them.


“Okay, shut up and listen,” Ethan spoke up holding up both arms. “These are the rules, you are not allowed to touch the floor. May only use a chair or a pillow to get to wherever you want, you have to keep on moving at all times. All the other surfaces may only be used for all of three seconds to stand or sit on. A second longer and you’re dead!” He made a cut-throat sign with his hand. “Every new surface you stand, sit, crouch, lay, or whatever upon you have to take a swig of your beverage. Be it beer or vodka. If you cross paths with anyone then both parties have to take an item of their clothing off. Accidentally touching of others allows them to challenge you with whatever they want and you have to comply.” Ethan explained a bit too loud. Two black stripes were drawn on both sides of his cheeks, a military green bandana knotted tightly around his forehead. They were drunk off their asses.

“I’m not playing,” Aiden scoffed, everything around him was spinning. Besides, his place on the sofa was way too comfortable to be deserted. Ethan leaned across the coffee table and whacked him on the back of his head.

“Everyone plays!” Ethan scolded heatedly.


Danny had ended up as the winner, with only his Armani boxers and socks still on, after hours upon hours of full on fuckery. A paper-made crown placed on top of his head. Since Aiden was commando he was the only one left with his jeans still on. Ethan was walking around in his t-shirt and red boxers. Jackson was in socks only, covering himself at all times with a pillow and glaring daggers at everyone.

Chapter Text

After the long flight from Beacon Hills to New York City, Stiles, had taken his time to dress himself properly and look at his finest. Wearing his most expensive suit, a true Italian craftsmanship, his Brioni three-piece. The well-tailored, dark navy grey, two-buttoned suit was hugging his shoulders exceptionally. The notched lapels sitting perfectly smooth, flat on his chiselled chest. High arm holes showcasing his broad shoulders vigorously. There were no wrinkles or divots, it fit his body just right. The pale blue shade of his collar that was visible at the back of his neck, matched in length with his sleeve cuffs. Giving him a longer, leaner torso. To finish it off, Stiles, wore a black tie with copper coloured patterns adorning it exquisitely. His grown out hair was now trimmed short at the back and sides with length through the top—which was styled back with the sides tightly clippered, giving him a formal look.

All these years, corporate events had the tendency to make Stiles feel quite uncomfortable and jittery. Feeling like he was stuck in a shark tank with nothing to protect himself with. But with everything he had been through as of late, none of his former nerves did resurface. He was left unfazed and perhaps a bit cold-hearted. Because, standing in his grand corner office at the top of the building he owned, sipping from his second glass of Scotch, Stiles couldn’t care less about the event that was going on. As he stood in front of the tall window, eyes trailing over the city he once was unconditionally in love with and enthralled by, he couldn’t help but feel like it was all such a charade. Before, it had always seemed so alive—the city that never slept— always thriving with energy. What was all of it worth, to be standing at the top of his world, though without the man he loved at his side.

Derek had asked him to give him time and space, but what if that were to result in a huge mistake. Stiles had already been down that path before with Derek. When it concerned giving each other time and space. It had not done them any favours then, who were to say it would do so now?

It was late into the darkest hours of the night and the event was still fully ongoing. His friends and colleagues where socializing and enjoying themselves in the very same building. Celebrating their success. But all Stiles could do was lock himself away in his office and drink his worries away.

Picking up the phone from his desk, he finally conceded into calling Derek. The second he heard the dialling tone he was drowning in an overwhelming ocean of nerves and fears. His breath became uneven and his pulse was skyrocketing the longer he had to wait.

“Who’s this?” Came Derek’s gruff voice from the other end.

Sighing half in relief and half from his nerves, Stiles resolved himself, he had to speak his mind now or shut up for however long Derek was going to need. “Derek, it’s me. Stiles,”

“You on your way back?” The alpha asked confusion seeping into his tone.

“No, no I’m not. Not yet anyways, eh—” Putting a fist to his mouth forcefully, he stopped himself from saying anything stupid and to actually think through what he wanted and was going to say. “I can’t put this conversation off any longer, Derek. It’s driving me crazy,” Stiles paused and took a long, deep breath. Mustering every bit of confidence he could, before speaking, “Before taking our relationship further by you claiming me, there is something I need to know first. I need to know whether you love me more than you hate my corporation and my creation. Whether I’ll be enough for you to look beyond all of that and support me, for me. I don’t expect you to show any support for my business, but I do expect you standing by my side. No matter what,” he finished off breathlessly. Without realizing he had been holding his breath for the entire duration of his confession. “I can’t go further and allow myself to be claimed when knowing that there are conditions to our partnership.”

“Tell me if I’m getting this straight, you want me to commit to us completely, unconditionally?” The werewolf asked, his voice giving no hints whatsoever at what he was feeling. Even their bond was terrifyingly unresponsive. What if the process had already begun, their bond fading the more apart they got. It couldn’t be too late already. Could it?

“Yes,” Stiles’ voice a mere whisper. His heart beat pounding in his ears.

“We both have issues Stiles,” the Alpha warned.

“I know, but I need to know that if by claiming me, we’ll deal with everything together. I can’t go out on a whim with this.” He really couldn’t.

“We will inherit each other’s problems. Like a pack, my pack.” Derek stated, though he still didn’t sound very convincing.

“Can you do that for me Derek? Are you willing to put your past behind in order to support me, if need be?”

“The question is, Stiles, are you? Or are you still contemplating your way out? When you’ve made up your mind and truly want my claiming then I will stand by your side. Even if that means I have to attend places and events I’d rather avoid. As your mate I am giving you my word, for better or worse, right? Although I have to admit, it has been worse than better with us.” The Alpha shocked him with his little joke at the end of his admission. Though it was spoken as a joke there was a hint of truth behind it. It had been worse. From the moment they had met.

“I’m not contemplating any outs, except for the one out of my office and a flight leading straight to Beacon Hills, but that’s besides the matter. If that is your way of asking me to marry you Derek Hale, it sucks,” Stiles couldn’t help but grin widely, suddenly feeling like he could take on the world now that they had finally gotten through their shit. “That was horrible, I expect a ring and you on your knees,” Stiles couldn’t help himself but to further provoke the Alpha.

“Oh please, you’d only marry me for my good looks!” Derek retorted, chuckling to himself softly.

“Well some might say you’re only marrying me because of the money in my pocket, you know,” Stiles just couldn’t help himself.

“Do they?” The Alpha growled darkly, “Is that really money in your pocket, Stiles? Because, I thought you were just too happy to see me.”

“You’re terrible! You can’t say stuff like that over the phone,” Stiles whined, pulling at his tie.

“Can’t I? I can and I will,” the alpha challenged. “Besides, it’s not like we’re really going to get married, the second you come back. You’re not the king of Scots and I’m not the prince of France. There is no upcoming war or the need for the countries to be united against the evil hunters.” Derek went on jokingly. Stiles could very vividly imagine the big smirk on his mate’s face, just by the sound of his voice.

“Derek Hale, did you just ask me to marry you and then followed it up by taking your not-so-subtly hidden proposal back?” Stiles scoffed, feigning being offended.

“I did no such thing. Stop putting words in my mouth Stilinski,” Derek replied, his tone ringing obliviousness.

Stiles smiled at the casual air of their conversation. However, there was a question that was still nagging at him. Clearing his throat he dared to ask, “Derek, do you still want us to be apart for the next couple of days?” He knew that he had just ruined their playful conversation but he had to know.    

Derek cleared his throat before he firmly replied, “I think it would be wise to take one step at a time.” However, before the alpha could say any more he was getting another incoming call. “Stiles, I will call you back,” Derek spoke briefly before the sound of his voice was replaced by that of the ended call tone. Stiles just stared at his phone for a moment, before he finally put it away and reached out for his glass of Scotch.




Derek had just hung up his call with Stiles and answered Cora’s.

“Cora, is something wrong? Did something happen? Are you okay?” Derek fired off one question after the other, his voice tainted with worry. His mind was already racing. Crashing down at his desk and already skimming through today’s breaking news on his mac. His eyes were scanning the headlines for anything that might have to do with his baby sister’s sudden call.

“Hi, Derek. How I’m doing, you ask? Pretty well all things considered,” Cora rambled off carelessly. Mocking her older brother for good measure.

Derek sighed audibly, pinching the bridge of his nose as he halted his search for anything that might indicate an upcoming doomsday. “Well it’s not like we ever talk, so talk.” Derek point out and got straight to business.

“You have horrible manners. How you ever managed to have a mate is beyond me, Derbear,” Cora sighed exaggeratedly. The sound of her flopping down following suit. “Anyway, what has gotten up your butt to make you all tense and growly,” she questioned and quickly added, “besides Stiles, of course,” then burst out into a fit of giggles.

To which Derek’s respond was growling into his phone, a chronic frown forming on his forehead.

“Do not ever say stuff like that again, you’re my baby sister.”

“I’m 20 years old, Derek. So cut the crap with the whole ‘baby sister’ thing you’ve got going on,” Cora replied matter of factly. “Besides you didn’t answer my question,” she reminded him.

“Nothing, just.. well we’ve never talked casually. So I thought something had happened,” Derek confessed, scratching the back of his head.

“Well, nothing did. So you can calm down and stop growling at me.”

“I’m not growling!” Derek exclaimed dumbly.

“Yes, you were. Jesus Derek, did something happen to you whilst we were apart? You’re so tense you’re downing the vibe of my whole personal area and you’re on the phone!” Cora nearly yelled.

“No, just—” Derek paused mid-sentence, considering whether he should tell Cora what was troubling him. Cora patiently waited out his silence, until Derek had come to a conclusion. “Mate stuff,” he fessed up lamely.

“Okay..” Cora dragged out, waiting for Derek to further explain and when there wasn’t any she realized that she had to get the answers herself. “What mate stuff?”

“Well, I don’t know. It’s just difficult.. it’s—” He cut himself off mid-sentence, again, and let out a deep sigh.

“Der, look you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. But obviously there is something bugging you and if you’d like to talk about it, then I’m right here.” His sister tried to put him at ease. “I just called you to catch up and for what it’s worth talk about something that’s bugging you, just putting it out there, that always works for me. At least it becomes more than just an annoying thought.”

“This whole mate stuff is new for me okay,” Derek spoke on a single breath, “I try and fail at a lot, it seems. But the biggest issue I’m having at the moment is getting over the fact that my mate is still running the company that aided our capturers. That I’m supposed to support him and whatnot,” Derek almost whined at the end. On some level he knew he should get over it already but what he knew and what he should do, just didn’t automatically rid him of what he was feeling at the prospect. All of a sudden he could hear the phone moving on the receiving end and it being followed by, “Trying is failing. Just get your head out of your ass and do it.” Came his uncle’s voice.

“Peter, give that back.”

Derek could hear Cora shouting at their uncle. Followed by a lot of movement on the background.

“That kid is seriously so depressing. I’m going to buy him a CD of all the sad orchestra music there is for Christmas.”

“I can hear you, asshole,” Derek growled back at his uncle.

“Good. You were supposed to.” Peter replied awfully cheerful.

“Okay, got the phone back,” Cora’s voice informed him. “What I was going to say, before someone took my phone away,” she emphasized –the accusing glare she was shooting Peter’s way, was very imaginable just from the sound of her voice. “Do you honestly think that Stiles has had the 101 on how to be a good mate or even what the actual fuck a mate is supposed to be? No, he hasn’t. In fact he lacks a lot of knowledge when it comes to us. That is where your role comes in and you explain it to him!” She scolded. “If you’re having a hard time with being supportive about his goddamn life’s work, then tell him, but don’t be an ass about it.”

“Or man up and be quiet, but present, and look pretty while attending parties,” Peter’s voice piped up from the background.

“Or that,” Cora agreed. At which point Derek was painfully regretting having answered his sister’s call. He should not have done that.

“Stop growling Derek!” Cora cried out. Derek hadn’t even noticed doing it in the first place.

“Whatever, I’m hanging up now. Bye.” With that he hung up and headed towards the wine cellar.






That specific night, Stiles was home alone.
He’d curled up into one of his cosy seats that were set next to a homely fireplace. Smoke slightly wafted into the chimney, while the heat caressed along his skin, like a warm touch gently stroking him. His mind was filled with lots of things, as it usually was. The chaos churning inside his mind, a chaos of swirling thoughts. Stiles sighed, he felt tired, but not tired enough to actually fall asleep. He’d tried lying in bed, by himself, only to step out of it twenty minutes later. That’s when he’d gone into the living room and drank a nightcap. While walking towards his chair, he grabbed a moleskin blanket to toss over himself while he’d turned on his fireplace. He didn’t actually own a fireplace which he had to continuously stock with wood, he owned the kind that was easily turned on by turning the gas handle. Nonetheless it would be cold for a short while. Stiles had covered his slippered feet, his striped pyjama pants and black pyjama shirt with the blanket. As he sat down, he poured himself from the giant glass container which contained Bourbon.

A Nightcap indeed, he thought.

That’s how Stiles had ended up sitting in his chair, at the fireplace with a blanket in the middle of the night. He nipped at his alcoholic beverage, as he stared into the fire. Stiles was, ironically, contemplating about life up till now. Something that would not ease nor lull him into a sleep, but instead feeds his worrisome night. Stiles shifted his body in the chair, his left buttocks was a part of his body that had fallen asleep. The tingle annoying him profusely. As he re-sat in the chair, his gaze was taken back towards the dancing flames. They appeared to be similar to the Hula girls whom he once saw in Hawaii. The flames kept repeating the same moves, dancing similar to the Hula girls. The mesmerizing movements of the fire, drew him in, more and more. His gaze unable to be taken away from the display in front of him. The more the fire drew him in, the more he felt himself relax. Slowly but surely he dozed off, doing the very thing that he was unable to do earlier.

An indefinite time later, Stiles woke up with a start. His glass of scotch drained, his fireplace burning softly, and it was slightly colder.

“How nice of you to wake-up babe,” a familiar voice said. Stiles rubbed his eyes. Was he seeing right? A blond haired woman, with an angular nose and slightly curled hair was sitting in front of him, in the matching chair. Stiles gasped, as he brought his hand to cover his mouth from pure shock.

“No this can’t be!” He exclaimed. He looked at the woman sitting across from him again. Leather jacket, black t-shirt, jeans and leather boots.

“N’aww, you’re right this isn’t true, how…lucky for you,” she finished. “No, my dear Stiles. This is simply a dream, in which I will entertain you, until it ends.” A sly smile was plastered all over her face.

“Kate bloody Argent,” Stiles finally managed to blurt out. He was processing whatever his female nemesis simply just said. “If this is all a dream, then this is a nightmare,” Stiles responded. He slowly steeled himself, knowing who sat in front of him. Stiles pinched himself.

“That didn’t work,” Stiles said agonized. “Why did this not work, damnit!”

A haughty chuckle was heard from across. “This dream ends when I want it to end, sweetie,” Kate clacked her fingers together. “So until then, buckle up and enjoy the ride.”

Stiles’ vision started blurring along the edges, as if a radio signal was slowly getting cut off. Stiles felt himself leaving his fireplace and cosy chair behind. Then it all darkened. Stiles slowly blinked, digging into his surroundings. A strong tug, kept nudging him. As he slowly realized where he was, he fearfully leaned back. He was standing on the very tip of the Eiffel Tower. He was holding on for dear life, trying not to fall.

“The view is spectacular, enjoy it,” a female voice said while laughing.

He slowly turned his head towards the voice, trying not to fall whilst his eyes sought Kate. “That’s easy for you to say, you’re already dead,” he spat out.
Stiles looked down and clutched at the iron bar more thoroughly. He felt ill, heights never were his forte.

“Remember this day Stiles?” Kate asked him.

Stiles didn’t want to look down. It nauseated him so much. As he slowly looked down, towards the platform, instead of the ground his focus slid over to a group of individuals standing near the railing. Of course he remembered this day. It was the day that all was well, the day before they left for the Circus. The day when they were still oblivious to all that they know now. The day where he hadn’t met Derek or the rest of the pack yet.

“Look at you guys being so friendly and happy with each other,” Kate said dryly. “I wonder what would happen if one of you accidentally had fallen, this particular day. Would you still have messed up our beautiful circus?” She wondered aloud.

Stiles looked at her angrily, “Don’t you dare hurt any of them.” When it came to his friends, he wouldn’t allow anyone to hurt them.

“There there kitten, don’t worry, this is only a dream after all,” Kate said to him. “Speaking off—” Before Stiles could actually ask her to finish the sentence, she had grabbed his arm and jumped forward. Dragging him along towards the ground, where an imminent impact would follow. Stiles hurtled towards the ground with a blood curdling scream, while Kate just laughed. Moments before Stiles would hit the ground, the entire scene around him changed. He found himself standing on the circus grounds. The place, is was the catalyst of all that was yet to come. As he looked around, he recognized everything. This allowed him to shake off the shock of the near death experience that he just had had. It reminded him that this was just a dream, because this place, no longer existed in the real world.

“Good times, we’ve had here,” Kate smiled sickly sweet. “Remember when I showed you Derek the first time, and I could already see the infatuation spread. I could already see how confused you were, by being attracted to a man, but I chose not to act upon it. How sorely mistaken I was back then.”

Stiles gulped. He knew exactly what moment she was referring to. The moment when they were invited for a sample of the circus performance. Derek was lifting weights. Stiles had felt a weird tingle, of which he hadn’t known what it would mean in the long run. This was the moment where they had first met. Stiles thought of the other moments where he had met Derek, out in the open or secretly. With each thought, the sides of his periphery began to blur, shifting to whichever he had in mind. First the image of when he had snuck inside the circus, to view the compound and find out where Derek had been, then the entire surroundings shifted, like a videotape going fast forward. In one quick motion Stiles viewed all that had passed, up until the point where Kate attacked the house they were hiding in.

“Good times,” Kate told him as the scenery in front them played out. “Sad to say our plan didn’t pan out. All thanks to you, saint Stiles,“ Kate spat out dryly. “Nice gadgets you’ve had made though, I mean if it wasn’t for you, Derek and the others hadn’t even have to go through this.”

Stiles his gut cramped up, his throat closing. He wasn’t often reminded off this part at the circus. Yes he’d been reminded every so often, but not like this, not actually played out to the fullest, seen through his very own eyes. He had felt utterly destroyed when he found out, he was at the root of their captivity, and even now, this felt gut wrenchingly horrible. Stiles felt the goose bumps crawl up his skin, from toes to head.

“What’s the matter Stiles,” Kate asked. “Cat got your tongue?”  

If anything she’s as cunning and annoying as she was alive, Stiles thought to himself.

He wasn’t responding to her catty behaviour. One, because she was a current figment of his imagination and dreams. Two because she was explicitly trying to get a response out of him.

When will I wake up, I know I wanted a good night’s rest but…this is not exactly the way to a happy night of sleep. Why is she even here? What did I do to get tormented on such a night? First no sleep, now this crazy woman. More importantly, how do I get this to stop?  All these questions were popping into his mind. Flooding his thoughts, making him unable to focus on what was more important. Getting out of here. As the thoughts fleeted from his mind, his gaze was on Kate.

“So what are you here for? Are you here to gloat? Are you here to make me feel bad? Answer me Kate, because I’m done playing games.”

The woman standing across from him was looking at him with a nonchalant glare. “Just let me have my few moments of fun Stiles, aren’t we getting along so well?”

Bite me, Stiles thought. He was getting sick and tired of this. When was this done and over with?

I just want a nice cup of tea and my own bed. As he looked around, suddenly he saw his own bed, in the middle of the meadow, with a steaming cup of tea.

“Wait a minute!” Stiles exclaimed.

Kate was watching the pre-battlefield, in which suddenly a Bed appeared.

“I can’t remember this being here, but hey, maybe it was there,” his female enemy said.

She had shrugged it off, but Stiles knew better.

The gears in his head slowly shifting, and turning. He figured out, that he might have more power in his dreams than he thought. It wasn’t just Kate controlling his dreams, he had power here as well.

A slow, but sly smile spread across his face.

“So listen Kate…this happened.” With a flick of his hand, the imagery sped up and into the small house. That same small house where all the camaraderie and love began. The house that brought together two unlikely allies, and interwove their bonds for the future to come.
Stiles looked towards Kate, goose bumps crawling up his arms as he remembered that very moment. He looked towards his enemy and noticed that she, was less gloating and less smirking, than she was before. She actually fell silent.

“Don’t exactly take a fancy to that do ya?” He said quoting a movie.

Well I have something more for you. Stiles clenched his fists. Imagining the memories In his mind. The memories of when they actually battled Kate, when Kate actually died. Dream-Kate was looking very displeased. She did not like the prospect of what was coming next. The moment where she, was going to die.

“Payback is a bitch,” Stiles replied. Just before Kate died, the dream faded away. Circus ground fading, with wispy smoke floating into the air. Kate, Dream-Kate also wafting away. Leaving Stiles in a white, blank space. Nothing around him, nothing to be seen…nothing but just him. Stiles didn’t know what to do, there was absolutely nothing. Not even imagining something new worked for him. He suddenly was all alone.

When does this horrid dream stop.

“Don’t worry Stiles, you will be home soon. We just wanted to say a little hello.”

After hearing this familiar voice, Stiles turned around, his eyes filling with tears. How long he waited to hear that voice again. His mother was standing across, from him. His father holding her hands.

“Mom, Dad” he stuttered. “MOM!” He yelled! “DAD!”. He ran towards his parents, while tears streamed down his face. The tears falling, like small glistening diamonds. “Hello son,” Sheriff Stilinski said. “It’s good to see you.” Stiles hugged them, afraid what would happen if he let them go. He savoured this very moment, even though his gaze was blurred, by all the upcoming tears.

“It’s okay Stiles,” his mother told him. “The dream is about to end, so we only have a little time left. We just wanted to let you know, that we’re all right. You will be all right.” His mother assured him. Stiles could not speak. The lump in his throat was too large. He kept clutching his parents, not willing the moment to end. His legs shivering with all the emotion, that he could not funnel into anything but tears. Then too, his parents started fading away, into wispy smoke.

“Take care Stiles, we’ll be waiting,” His father said with his last words.

Stiles awoke with a startling jolt. Heavily panting as his brain tried to catch up, and rationalize what just happened. I have really fucked up dreams. He looked at his surroundings, making sure this wasn’t some kind of inception shit he was going through. After walking around the room and pinching himself a few times, he realized this was the reality. The sad reality where Derek still hadn’t called. The sad reality in which he was pining away, waiting for Derek to give the okay. He spoke to Derek a day ago, and the conversation gave him some hope, but he still didn’t feel all that well. Stiles sighed, Why is this mate-stuff so difficult. He checked his cell phone, just in case he had a missed call or a text. Derek had said he would call him again, but he hadn’t. Not yet anyway. It was driving him nuts. Resigning to the fact that he could not sleep as long as this mulled inside his head, he decided to go into his office.

He switched on the computer to check some of his work related e-mail. Though he couldn’t read through a single e-mail as his gaze and attention kept slipping towards his phone. Should I call him instead? Stiles thought with angst. No, Derek fucking Hale would call me.
A long face appearing onto his own. He let out a frustrated yell, “GAHHR, DEREK FUCKING HALE.”

Okay Stiles, focus, get some work done.

Stiles really tried, but regardless he kept being distracted. After another half hour of staring he picked up the phone and texted Derek, telling him he would finish up work tomorrow, get all his shit together and would leave for Beacon Hills.. He knew he had to go see Derek, before giving his answer to Derek’s claiming. He wouldn’t solve his doubts sitting where he sat. It only drove him mad. Having sent the text, he could finally focus on work.

One step at a time.

Chapter Text

The alpha had left his new home in a frenzy, after ending the phone call with his little sister. He wore nothing but a pair of washed-out jeans and a snug, navy coloured Henley. On his way, Derek, had bought a bouquet of flowers, functioning solely on auto-pilot. The people on the street that met his gaze were eying him oddly, though none of it registered in the alpha’s mind. Derek found himself wandering towards the one place he had not revisited, since being back in Beacon Hills. His inner turmoil had become too loud for the alpha to ignore much longer. Invisible strings still pulling at him every each way. Derek kept going over all that had happened in the last couple of months. The good and the bad. He tried to wrap his mind around it but just couldn’t quite get a grip. Putting the blame of his misery on the obvious and the recently developed—his issues with Stiles’ company and the claiming of his mate— was one way out of the indescribable, tortures feelings he was having. However, slowly but surely his derailed thoughts were catching up with him, gaining an iron-like grip on him. For the umpteenth time, Derek’s fears resurfaced. Leaving him terrified to his core. His wolf being once again on edge.

Despite his mate’s explanation that the death of the Sheriff had not actually been Derek’s fault, it wasn’t lost on Derek that the root of everything had been caused by Derek. If Derek hadn’t allowed Kate into his life, his family would have been alive. Stiles’ father would have been alive. His young beta, Erica, would still have been alive. She should not have died so young. Isaac would have been spared the great loss of his beloved friend, packmate and girlfriend. As for Jackson, he never would have to carry the burden of being one of Derek’s beta’s. More often than not Jackson was the one in the alpha’s pack to talk to Derek. Make him speak his mind and voice his worries. Instead of it being the other way around. Last, but not least Stiles’ life and that of his friends would have been left untainted by all that had happened.

Derek had died and perhaps it had been better for everyone if he had stayed dead. If only Stiles had not brought him back from the dead. Had that been the case, his mate never would have gotten shot. Never would have gone through the experience of that kind of pain and agony.

Without even noticing the alpha had picked up his pace and had started running. Running faster and further, as if he could run away from his thoughts. Perhaps fortunate enough to leave everything that was eating away at him behind. His bare feet crushing the leaves under their weight. The wind was blowing through his hair, it’s touch was cold and welcome on his hot skin. After what seemed like a long time, he finally came to a halt, having reached his destination. Slowly, he walked the last couple of feet and came to stand still at the grave of his fallen packmember. The alpha hunched down, letting out a deep sigh. His eyes cast down, still unable to face the truth even when it was staring him right in the face.

At last when he found himself no longer able to keep his own weight up much longer, he allowed himself to fall to the ground. Resting one hand on Erica’s grave carefully as hot, traitorous tears filled his eyes. They all had been so busy with themselves, none of them taking the time to stand still and realise that they still hadn’t bought a proper headstone. Derek heaved a deep breath, his lips nearly trembling as he allowed the emotions he had buried deep down, wash over him. He had without a doubt failed Erica. Failed his pack. The alpha thought he had manned up, that he had gotten his shit together and had done his best. But the cold and harsh fact of the matter was that he hadn’t. He was no less of a broken shell of the man he once used to be then when he had been a prisoner at the circus.

“I should have protected you,” Derek’s raspy voice broke the eerie silence of the woods. The old Hale territory once so full of life, magic and his beloved family had now become the old Hale cemetery.

“I failed you, Erica,” Derek closed his eyes, his fingers tightening painfully around the bouquet he was still holding. “I promised you a better life and look where that got you.”

“I am so sorry,” the alpha choked out hotly, unable to hold back the tears any longer. “You should have lived a long and happy life. Where you’d grow into the strong woman, I knew you’d turn out to be. Should have had kids, gotten the love of your life and grown old.”

“I promised you that I would protect you but I failed you miserably and I broke that promise.” The alpha admitted brokenly.

It had been hours as the alpha stayed at his late-beta’s grave. Derek came to the decision that no matter what was going to happen that they were going to have a proper burial for Erica. A proper goodbye and a proper headstone. It was the least they could do. The least he could do to honour her.
Derek left the bouquet of white tulips on the grave and after a long pause got to his feet and left the territory.





Derek approached the grand mansion that was supposed to be his new home. From the outside it seemed like giant square blocks of concrete, with high ceilings and tall windows. Surrounded by the forest. Despite the warm colours of the mansion, it felt rather cold and too big and lifeless to Derek. The alpha entered the house grimly, leaving a trail of feet-shaped mud behind him.

He retreated to his bedroom, feeling like collapsing on his bed and getting some sleep. Hoping he’d wake up feeling less like crap and just mentally overly exhausted. Though before he had the chance to close his eyes, the door to his room was slammed open by none other than Jackson. With Aiden following suit.

“Aiden and I are together,” he spoke resolutely, his hand taking Aiden’s into his own. Posture open to his alpha, not seeming defensive or closed off at all. The sight of it made Derek secretly proud of his beta. Jackson had come so far, grown wiser and more trustworthy than the alpha ever had imagined he would. Derek nodded at his beta and glanced at Aiden then back to his beta.

“Okay.” He replied softly and before he could blink both beta’s were lunging themselves at him. Somewhere between all of the commotion Ethan and Lydia had joined them, all of them invading his space and lying on top of him on the huge bed. Snuggling up to him. The alpha was too astounded to react properly.

“Now that that’s out there,” Jackson started, his head popping up from under Aiden’s arm. Whilst Derek was manoeuvring himself away and his arm out of Ethan’s clutches, who was being used as a pillow by Lydia. Jackson continued to move Aiden’s arm down to his middle and let it rest there, as he fully turned to face his alpha. Aiden’s head coming to rest on the beta’s shoulder.

“Derek Hale, we are here to talk to you about your recently developed issues with Stiles’ company,” his beta continued at last. His hand holding onto Derek’s arm. The alpha felt like he had fallen into an unknown dimension. Where Jackson of all people was one to ‘cuddle’ up with his alpha. It was all too bizarre and Derek just couldn’t fathom how to react to this. Which seemed to be becoming a recurring problem for the alpha.

“Get off,” the alpha grumbled, half-heartedly.

“Nope, not until you stop moving. We are your pack and if we want to invade your personal space for some cuddles, we will.” His beta replied and as if to prove his point he tossed his arm over Derek’s upper body. Clinging to him, as if Ethan wasn’t already enough.

“Since when do you do nice and cuddly?” Derek questioned, a single and very judging eyebrow raised at the beta in question.

“Since you decided to let Isaac into your pack.”

Before anyone else could reply, Lydia cleared her throat loudly, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Not to ruin your little pack-bonding moment here but let’s get back to the matters at hand shall we,” She started and sat up straight, levelling Derek with an intense gaze.

“I just flew back here from NYC, without telling anyone including Stiles, to make sure this bullshit stops right now.” Her gaze only intensified, a fire awakening in her eyes. Her jaw set sharply. “If you have a problem with the bracelets department, then take it up to Stiles and tell him about it. But don’t you dare badmouth his entire company and everything he has ever worked for Derek Hale.” She suggested angrily.

Her words struck Derek like lightning. Because, although Derek had often voiced his problems about the company, he had never said what specifically bothered him. He had said that the company had aided the Argents but it all came down to one thing, the bracelets. The core of his problems—this was one of the invisible strings that still held him captive. If only it was in his mind.

“See, I was right,” Lydia turned to Jackson, giving him an I-told-you-so look.

“Derek, Stiles’ company is massive. Perhaps he’s willing to, you know, let that one department go,” Jax offered, giving a shrug for good measure.

“And if he doesn’t? Considering what happened to his father?” Derek dared himself to ask. A small but undeniable spark of hope awakened inside of him. A warm sensation of weightlessness spreading through his chest at the prospect of Stiles letting go of that part of his business. Even if his mate would consider it, it might be enough for Derek to have hope for the two of them.

“What happened to his father was a corrupted business to begin with. It was a set-up from the get go and Stiles knows that now. We all do. The reason he created those bracelets was to prevent such a thing from happening ever again. But that never would have happened, were it not for Kate Argent,” Lydia explained, crossing her arms in front of her.

“The Sheriff could have saved you, if it wasn’t for those escapees,” Jackson realised out loud, eyes starring off into the distance.

“You mate’s father would have saved you.” Aiden’s voice joined in.

“But it didn’t happen that way, yet still somehow as if by fate your mate saved you, saved us, all of us,” Ethan finished for them.

“Whatever your problem is right now, Derek, or however you’re feeling, just remember that this all is so very insignificant to the fact that Stiles raised you from the dead. You were shot and nearly hanging on, and all I can remember is him saving you.” Jackson spoke at last and with that the beta pushed himself off the bed.

“We might not be much like Peter’s pack, all up in each other’s business and whatnot. And we most certainly don’t live together as a pack, inside our little ‘wolf’s den’,” Jax air-quoted, ridiculing the twins somewhat. “But— ouch!” The beta hissed as he rubbed his upper arm where Aiden had punched him amicably.

“We’re not like that, jackass,” Aiden scoffed and went to stand at his brother’s side.

“The only thing your pack is missing is roasting marshmallows near a camp fire,” Jackson fired back then resumed his previous conversation. “But we do need our alpha,” the beta admitted honestly. The playfulness of his tone being replaced by genuine sincerity. “I’m going to regret saying this but despite what you might think of us, we actually do like you. I for one can’t imagine what we would have done if it weren’t for Stiles bringing you back to life.” Jackson confessed and without further ado he turned on his heels and left the room.

Soon Ethan and Aiden followed after Jackson, leaving Derek alone with Lydia.

“Look Derek, we might not know each other that well for me to be saying this but I’m going to anyways. Because, Stiles is a very good friend of mine and right now the both of you are being miserable, when honestly,” she breathed out a deep sigh, shaking her head. “The two of you should be happy and work through whatever this is together. Don’t think that I haven’t noticed how red rimmed your eyes are. Whatever’s going on that’s bothering you so much, talk to him about it. Stiles is the most understanding guy I might have ever met. Yes, he talks a lot but he’s also a very good listener,” somewhere during her lecture she had gotten up. Her hands resting at her sides as she eyed Derek pensively.

“I can almost assure you that he’d do anything, if only you’d ask it of him. He’s a stubborn little brat sometimes but when it comes to you, well, let’s just say I’ve never seen him go to the lengths that he’s gone to for you, for anyone else.

The alpha didn’t know what to say other than to nod his understanding. After everyone had left Derek was laying on his bed, absently gazing into the darkness, when the realisation of him not having his phone on him occurred to him. He had promised to call his mate but somehow had forgotten all about it. Searching for his phone in the darkening room, he saw that he had received one text message from his mate. Feeling a bit unsettled that he might have caused his mate to worry, he quickly sent back a reply.

To Stiles: Miss you. Come back soon. Derek.







Stiles had been working all day. A very tiresome, and long day. After the stupidly real dream, Stiles was unable to fall asleep any more. He tapped his desk with the pen still sitting between his two fingers. His mind shifting through the day. Wondering how he even pulled it off today. With only two hours of sleep, he managed to work the entire day, making phone calls all across the world to clients and also delegating all of his work to the appropriate branches of his corporation. Even pulling some string with Lydia and Danny to get everything worked out for his unexpected trip.

He’d called Danny first, because he knew which one of them was easier to work with. As he’d planned, Danny did object at first, because he was already swamped with work. Though Stiles stressed the fact how important this was for him. This made Danny comply, after Stiles promised to owe him a few favours. Favours that Danny hadn’t announced yet.

That deal done, he’d have to phone Lydia. She’d be a lot harder to convince. Which, turned out, was the utter truth. Lydia was miffed, on the border of being pissed. She’d planned a few things which she had to cancel now, one of them being attending a friend’s fashion show. It took a lot of grovelling and excuses from Stiles to get her past that, let alone all the other things. It nearly took him thirty minutes to get her to do some extra work, on top of the things she already had to do. Deep down, he knew, she was only being stubborn because she just liked making Stiles’ life hard. Even Lydia knew how important this was for him.

Stiles stretched with a loud yawn. He untied the laces on his Ramsey II Chucka boots. He wasn’t all for the fancy shoes. He’d much rather wear All Stars or Chuck Taylor sneakers, but these were a gift from Lydia and he promised to wear them more often. It made him look rather distinguished and sophisticated. Funny thing was, wearing these kind of shoes did make him feel more like an executive director, instead of a young adult. Stiles slid back, getting up and out of his office chair. He traipsed around the office room on his blue and green argyle socks. Stiles always had liked it slightly old school, so instead of having something like Spotify he had a stereo in his workroom. It was currently blasting a song from The Villagers called Nothing Arrived.

“I waited for Something and Something died
So I waited for Nothing, and Nothing arrived 
Well I guess it's over, I guess it's begun
It's a losers' table, but we've already won
It's a funny battle, it's a constant game
I guess I was busy when Nothing came”

This song spoke to his inner core at the moment. It reminded him that pining away for Derek was not changing the fact that they were having trouble right now. Stiles sighed. Oh woo that Is me. He’d walked back to his desk and grabbed his private phone. He saw someone had left a text. He quickly opened the text and his heart fluttered. Derek had sent him a text.

“Miss you. Come back soon. Derek.”

He felt the blood leave his brain, leaving him light-headed. His heart pulsing more, faster, quivering with what Derek had sent him. His body heat increasing exponentially. Derek had sent him a bloody text, telling him that he missed him. Stiles was feeling more joyous by the second. He turned off his computer, practically glided over the floor, floating around on his slippery socks as he rushed to clean up whatever he thought needed cleaning up. He’d picked up his shoes, whistling, grabbed the remote of his stereo and turned the stereo off with a flip. With a quick glance over his shoulder, grabbing his wallet hastily, he flicked off the light switch and closed the door.

One small text, had made him feel so happy, so hopeful. He knew he was being naïve, because after all, it was Derek. You never quite knew how he would react. For now, Stiles knew, that Derek wanted him near, the same thing Stiles currently wanted now. To be near Derek, to be—with Derek. Stiles went like a flurry through his room. Grabbing a big suitcase, he opened his drawer and tossed in a few pairs of socks and boxers, enough to last him a week and then some. In some case he would need a few extra pair of clean underwear. His mind perfectly pictured what that would be.

Him and Derek, under a black satin bedspread. Getting all hot and heavy. When he leaves the bed to take a small break, drinking a juice..which he then spills all over his underwear that’s littered across the floor. Stiles snapped out of it, wiping a small amount of drool, oozing out of the corner of his mouth.

Bloody focus.

Stiles moved towards his pyjama drawer. He wondered for a while if he would actually need one. “Where is sexy lingerie for men when you need it,” he muttered. He decided to grab a sleeping shirt, without taking any pants. He could always turn up the heat if it got too cold. Stiles packed a suit, just in case he had to head for work at any given time. He was still uncertain how things would pan out, though he knew one thing. Derek was his mate, regardless of the outcome. He’d decided on that. He finished packing his bag by throwing in the rest of his clothes. Zipped up and dragged his luggage out of his room.


Stiles put his earplugs in, pulling down his sunglasses. The Killers with Mr. Brightside thrumming inside his ears, as he walked out, into the low evening sun. With some heavy hefting, he lifted his luggage into the back of the Jeep. He walked around the Jeep, kicking up some dust and hopped in. He revved the engine and pinned down the gas pedal. The low hanging sun burning into his eyes, as he went onto the road, heading towards his private jet. He hooked his phone into the car kit and dialled Scott.

“Scott my man, how are you?” Stiles had asked him. He fidgeted with the dials of his radio to look for a radio station to make for background noise.

“We’re doing well, thank you,” Isaac replied. “Thank you for asking.” Stiles heard Scott chuckle in the background.

“Oh—hey Isaac,” Stiles awkwardly replied. “Having fun on your small vacation?” Stiles felt a flush creep onto his face, he had so not expected Isaac to pick up. He was still getting used to the fact that Scott and Isaac were also mates. They were doing it a lot differently than Derek and him though. He envied them at times, for it seemed that they had the blissful and peaceful way of being each other’s mates, and Derek and he, had picked the rugged route.

Isaac let out a light-hearted laugh. “Well, it’s been great so far, good weather, great booze.” Stiles could already imagine the smirk plastered all over Isaac’s face. “No supernatural drama, no pack leader drama. Just the thing I needed. Is it safe to come back yet?”

Stiles sighed. “Not yet, but we’re working on it.” The phone garbled. He thought he heard some wrestling and jostling.

“Sorry about that,” Scott replied. “Stop being a tease Isaac,” he scolded through the phone. “So, how are you Stiles? Everything okay? You sounded a bit more chipper.”

Stiles waited before answering. Collecting the bundle of emotions swirling inside him. “We’re—I’m actually doing all right. I had a very bad and weird dream the other day. It was quite the shocker. I saw my mom and dad in my dream, telling me everything will turn out alright.”
Scott clucked his tongue. “That must have been one trip. Wow. Did they say anything else?”

Stiles’ throat clamped up. He hadn’t told anyone about the dream, but he was about to. “They told me they loved me,” he poured out. His voice cracking. His throat feeling raw. It was silent for a good two minutes.

“That’s just—wow, I don’t even know how to respond to that.”
Scott asked him, “Do you think it was something supernatural?” The tone of his best friend, soft and calm, but also apprehensive.

“I don’t think so, but it answered an unanswered desire I didn’t even know I still had. Oh and Kate Argent was there.” Stiles told Scott everything he’d dreamt. Words spilling out of him, remembering the dream as he was reliving all the parts. Scott listened like a true friend.

“Oh I’m so sorry, you’re on your vacation, I shouldn’t be telling you all this.”

“No it’s fine, we’re heading back soon, much to Isaac’s chagrin, but we have to get back to real life some time. What are you doing now?” Scott asked of him.

“Actually I’m driving towards the airport right now. I’m going to Beacon Hills, to visit Derek.”

“Give him a hug for me,” Isaac yelled through the phone.

“Isaac!” Scott yelled, “ This is a private call, stop eaves dropping with your wolf hearing.”

Isaac thoroughly scolded, Scott continued with Stiles.

“So, what’s the plan?”

Stiles scraped his throat. “I actually don’t have a plan, I decided to postpone the waiting and head out for Beacon Hills to meet up with Derek. To see if this is going to work.” Stiles paused “Or not,” he said silently.
“I did get a text message from Derek telling me he misses me, so he’ll be in a good mood at least!” Stiles cheerily replied. He turned the curve, onto the landing strip. “But ehh, gotta hang up Scott, I’m at the airport. Bye!”

Scott and Isaac both said their goodbyes to him, and he hung up. Stiles parked his car in the Hangar and turned off the ignition. He opened his back hatch, dragging out the heavy suitcase. Before he’d set it on the floor, an attendant was at his side.

“Let me take that Sir,” the attendant told him. Stiles gave him a kind smile and walked into the plane.
He said hello to the pilots. Gave them the destination they had to go to and went to sit down. The stewardess gave him something to drink, and told him the flight times. Stiles thanked her and kicked back, enjoying the flight. The nerves not hitting him yet. Stiles felt the plane lift off, as he stared out the window, seeing everything become smaller. At one point being so tiny like it felt like he was a giant, in a world of ants. As they hit the height where only clouds were there, as they obscured his vision of the world below. Stiles felt sleep tugging at him. His eyes drooping, as the hours of missed sleep caught up with him.





Stiles woke up feeling like he had slept for three whole days, the truth was far from it. He’d checked his watch and saw he only slept a couple of hours. His flight attendant had awoken him, with the message that they would be touching down soon. Stiles scrambled to get prepared for touchdown. He buckled up, rubbed his eyes and yawned loudly before getting himself a refreshing sip of his soda, which he quickly drained. It wouldn’t be handy to have any projectile liquid when they would hit the earth again. Stiles already pictured the stains all over his clothes. He’d learned to be less klutzy over the years. He noticed his hands were clammy, and his heart rate shot up. A bubbly feeling in his stomach.

Must be nerves, he thought. They didn’t feel like bad nerves, more like healthy nerves. Nonetheless he took a breather, just as the wheels of the plane touched the ground. The very ground outside Beacon Hills. Stiles unbuckled, thanked the staff and stepped outside. His luggage was already waiting for him, along with a rental car. He’d opted for something not so auspicious. He didn’t like showing off how much money he actually owned, even though he had just stepped out of a private jet. The luggage was placed into the trunk of his rental car, the keys already waiting for him inside the car.

Stiles rested his head on the steering wheel. He felt excited and nervous as well. He was about to drive towards the man he liked, and loved. But this was also the man that doubted him and his intentions. The man that made him feel uncertain and unwelcome at times. At least their upcoming conversation was going to either make or break their relationship.

Hazily, he drove towards the house that Isaac and Jackson had bought for their Alpha.

Would Derek still want him now? Would Derek still miss him? Was he ready for this? These thoughts crossed his mind, but he all gulped the thought away, with freshly drawn breaths. Forcing them away. Time to face the moment he so delighted, but also dreaded. Longing for Derek, made him come here. Made him travel towards Beacon Hills.

Stiles drove towards the house. Turned off the ignition and simply sat there. His legs felt like jelly. Like he was sitting on a boat that was facing a wild storm out on sea. Stiles steeled himself.

Fact. I love Derek. Stiles thought to himself.

Fact. Derek abhors the part of my company that creates and maintains the use of the bracelets that once held him captive. This made him waver of his conviction. Could Derek actually love him with this part of him? Could he part with this department of his company. A department that was once build upon his father’s legacy and story?

Fact. Derek and he were mates. A bond that had brought them together. A thing he could not forget, would not forget. Something that had moulded him, even now. Something that gave him answers he used to seek. Someone to love.

The jellyness of his feet started to subside. He got out of the car.

Fact. Derek had gotten his claiming bite, and he understood the gravity of that symbol. It was also a profession of love.

Stiles was already standing at Derek’s door. He rang the doorbell and waited.


Stiles knocked on the door. “Derek, open up!” He had steeled himself, encouraged himself enough to walk up the door and knock. He heard footsteps, coming closer and closer. He stood firm, exuding confidence as the door was opened. There he stood, Derek fucking Hale, his mate.

“Derek,” Stiles said, his voice softening. Words wouldn’t tumble out of his mouth this time. He didn’t want to stammer either, so he focussed on getting the words out.

“Stiles.” Derek spoke, out loud.

“No Derek, wait. I need to say something first.” The words he could not force out, started rambling out now. “I know you don’t particularly like the fact that my company is the same company that designed the bracelets, that had held you captive in the Argent Circus. But you and me, we’re not—our relationship is not defined by my company. You and I—we’re defined by our bond, by my claim on you. Defined by the love I have for you. Yes Derek, love. I do not simply like you, I truly love you. No matter what you have to say about me, or my company. I just wanted you to know that.”

Derek held up his hands in surrender. “I was going to ask you to come in, but you already poured out your heart, right on this doorstep.”

Stiles felt himself becoming red hot. He’d been so caught up with expressing how he felt and what he thought, that he forgot the common courtesy.

“As for what you just told me, it’s better if we talk about that further inside,” Derek told him, eying him pensively.

Stiles, looked at Derek, very conscious of himself. “I’ll ehh, go get my luggage first.” He walked towards his rental car, popping the trunk and getting out the suitcase. As he looked at the door, Derek was still standing there, his eyebrow quirked. Stiles cast his eyes down on the soil.

Why am I feeling so shy. It’s not like I don’t know Derek. He dragged in the suitcase, past Derek. The smell of him made Stiles long for him.

“Shoes off Stiles,” Derek warned him.

Stiles pulled off his shoes and followed Derek into the living room.

“First things first, can I get you something to drink?”

Chapter Text


                                                                                                                                    3 days ago

“Derek, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Peter’s voice came through the speaker of Derek’s phone. Derek chuckled humourlessly, his uncle never ceased to annoy him no matter how far apart they were. Or how long it had been since they had spoken.

“I wanted to talk to you about our inheritance.” He confessed unabashed. Pulling his car up onto his own driveway.

“Ah, I see,” Peter clucked in disapproval, “so that’s what this is about? Not to check in with your little sister or your uncle,” the snide remark a jab to Derek’s self-control.

“Answer the question Peter!” The alpha nearly barked, hands tightening around the steering wheel. The fact that his uncle wasn’t beneath using Cora to just get a rise out of Derek, was starting to get on his nerves. Reminding him of another person he had failed, even though he hadn’t known his little sister had survived the fire. That piece of information somehow just did not register with Derek—at least not yet.

“Very well, nephew. When we got back, you see, I had no home or sanctuary for my pack to reside in. It then became quite clear to me that I needed my share of our family inheritance. Whilst we resided at your mate’s mansion, I took the liberty to call our good old family lawyer and arrange a meeting to discuss the matters at hand—” Peter was in the middle of his explanation when Derek interrupted his uncle.

“Get to the point!” He groused, getting impatient. The soft inner material of the steering wheel dangling where the alpha’s claws has sliced through the leather fabric. Derek’s mind couldn’t supply any explanation for that occurrence or for any of the things he was feeling at the moment. Perhaps he was simply losing his mind.

“When I sat down to discuss the how’s and the when’s of being able to collect my share, I made sure yours would be ready as well. Needless to say, it can only to be collected by you and with your signature. For when you had come to your right senses and would need your share,” Peter confessed, letting out a deep sigh.

“Okay.” Was Derek’s only reply, as his hand tore the dangling material away and tossed it aside. Fed up with himself for losing his temper and in doing so, ruining part of his vehicle.

“You’re welcome—”

Before Peter had the chance to say any more, Derek had already hung up on him. Afterwards feeling like a total ass for snapping at his uncle like that. But then he just justified it with the fact that Peter had lied to him for over a decade, so he had it coming really.





                                                                                                                                    2 days ago

The alpha was driving back from the Beacon Hills Bank. After his conversation with Jax and the others, and his call to his uncle, he had asked for their family lawyer’s number. After a couple of phone calls and a visit to said lawyer, the alpha had finally received his inheritance. Part of which he was planning to use for his betas. The alpha knew that both Jackson and Isaac had been contemplating to attend college next year, if possible. Although Derek had been very, supportive of the idea whilst conversing with Jax about it, he knew better than to think it was actually possible for either of them to get in any kind of college. Not with their past, and the obvious absence of any form of education. They had been in prison, had been horribly used and tortured—put up for display like animals.

His pack was perhaps a bit quicker to put the past behind them and move on but that all was because of the alpha’s efforts to shield them from it all, as best he could. Truth of the matter was that none of the others have had to live with the person that had assaulted them, manipulated and abused them. No, that was Derek’s burden to carry. Derek had to live with his kidnapper and abuser for nearly half of his life, aside of everything else that had happened to them. Thus, he had taken it all, from all sides and for every member of his pack. Because his misery truly loved the company.

The alpha had already spoken to Lydia and Scott, requesting a few things of his own. Some of which including that they helped out Jax and Isaac with their studies, once they were accepted into college that is. Which they would be. Derek undoubtedly was going to make sure of that. Even if he had to build a freaking science lab for the college, he would. The alpha most certainly wasn’t above bribing his betas' ways into the college of their choice. Not that he was going to tell them about it. Which brought him to another request of his; Lydia and he filling in college application forms on behalf of the betas.

Lydia had showed up almost immediately after Derek had requested for her. She was dressed in a dark green pencil skirt and a white long-sleeved blouse, which was tucked in neatly. Even the alpha had to admit that she looked absolutely, stunning.

As it turned out, Lydia had been saddled with most of the job. Considering the questions to which even Derek didn’t know a ‘proper’ answer to.

“Okay so, you’ll have to write checks for the application fees and considering you have not had an annual income, obviously, I’ll supply them with mine instead.” The strawberry blond informed, while her hand was still busy with writing everything down.

“We still need personal statements and their transcripts. Even if we were not going to submit them just yet and just merely refer to them, we’re still going to need them,” Lydia noted, gazing up at the alpha. At Derek’s deepening frown, she smiled brightly, holding up a finger to hold off all of Derek’s concerns. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she leaned over to gather all the forms and files together, staking them up onto one pile. Then continued to get up and tuck everything away in her purse. When Derek gave her an impatient look, still awaiting an explanation, Lydia finally resumed. “Lucky for us, I know just the person to provide us with the transcripts for your betas.” With one hand placed against her hip, she waited for understanding to dawn in on the alpha.

“Who?” The alpha wondered confusedly.

“Our lovely friend Danny,” Lydia gave a half-hearted shrug as if Derek should have already known that. Shouldering her purse, she eyed the alpha curiously. “He’s quite brilliant, you know.” Then patted Derek on the shoulder, before she walked past him. Heading for the front door.

“But that would be in violation of the law,” Derek realised, clearly taken aback. A series of emotions fleeting through his hazel eyes, shock being the main one of them.

“Mr. Hale, I think we already crossed that bridge when we violated the law by smuggling bodies of kidnapped werewolves into this country.” Lydia reminded him carefully, though her voice did not waver once, not in the slightest bit.

“Frankly, I’ve come to understand the fact that you truly undermine our company and the real power and prestige it has gained.” The blonde levelled him with a fixed look. There was a certainty with which she spoke that spoke volumes to the alpha. Perhaps this wasn’t just about his comment on them breaking the law. There just seemed to be more to it than the female let on.

“I’d like to think that I know quite enough, really.” The alpha fired back, a steady but surely fierce fire was starting to illuminate his eyes. Although his face was void of any true emotion, it was his usual mask that was reclaiming its place on the alpha’s features.

“Really? I seem to recall differently. For all that it has been clear, your sights were set and locked on one of our departments only. However, you seem to have all but forgotten about the fact that if it weren’t for the company, none of this would have worked out the way it did.” She spoke each word with more determination than the one before it, and with each one, she stepped closer to the alpha. She seemed agitated at the fact that Derek seemed to be thinking that he knew enough. At least, enough to make such presumptions. The atmosphere in the room had definitely changed, it was charged. Insanely so and it was becoming quite unnerving.

“Is there something else, you’d like to enlighten me on, Miss Martin?” The alpha implored, stepping closer as well. Flames were dancing in his eyes. His moves were calculated and deliberate, almost like stalking a prey, he the hunter. The wolf in him taking more control over his actions than he had himself. The way Lydia spoke to him, how fear of questioning the alpha’s thoughts and motives was not a factor for her to consider at all, irked the werewolf in him.

“Yes. When it comes to the company, it would be wise to keep in mind that we have more power and say when it comes to politics. We have sponsored many political figures in various circles and donated to many charities. Where there is a demand, we often are the ones to supply. Moreover, with all the diverse branches in which we can and do supply, therein lays power. For we are one of the major companies to whom such respectable figures and other companies turn to. With every delivery and every job done well, we gain more associates, honourable and loyal ones at that. Which leads us to being able to ask one of them for favours whenever needed,” Lydia explained on a long breath.

The tension within the alpha deflated completely, his shoulders sagging into their relaxed posture. It was then, that comprehension dawned in on Derek, as to why Stiles trusted Lydia as much as he did. It also proved the fact why she was the person every single one of them would turn to for good advice or whatever it was, they needed. The alpha eyed her with renewed interest and curiosity. The charged energy of the room evaporated.

“What I’m trying to say is that all things considered, having Danny provide us with fake necessities for your betas’ college application forms, would be so insignificant as opposed to all else our company can provide and already has. It wouldn’t be breaking the law so much when the enforcers of it are good associates of yours.” She further elaborated, an unfathomable emotion flickered in her eyes but it was gone too quick for the alpha to decipher what it had been.

“Isn’t that wrong on itself? The fact that a company, Stiles’ even, has so much power to bend the law to its will? It just doesn’t seem just to me,” Derek rambled utterly taken aback. Unable to grasp the idea of his mate allowing for such to happen— for it even to just be.

“Politics isn’t black or white, it’s a grey ocean, wherein people like the Argents can get away with having their own military troops, labs to experiment and engineer awfully, horrible things. I used to question some of our doings as well, Derek. I still do but what I can say for sure and actually dare to stand for is that we are one of the good guys. We have done the wrong things for the right reasons, at the Circus that is, though it was still the wrong thing. As to what end? I’m still not quite sure,” Lydia let out a deep breath, her arms crossed in front of her chest— she too seemed lost in the past. Whatever else that had been bothering her before, enough so to make her agitated, was left unspoken. If Derek was frank with himself, he didn’t want to find out what it had been either. Some things were better left unsaid.

Derek’s eyes gazed down, still at odds with all that had been said. Not that he blamed Lydia for saying them, not at all. But just the fact that things like these even existed in a—what Derek used to think—just world. Though he seemed to have traded one tyrant for another, just embodied in a different form.

Shaking Derek out of his inner reverie, Lydia turned to leave once again, only half turning on her heels with one hand already resting on the doorknob, “For what it’s worth, I do think this is a really nice thing you’re doing for them,” she admitted with a genuine smile, pushing a lock of her hair behind her ear.

“Are you sure you don’t want to tell them though?” Sincere wonder showing in her hazel eyes.

Derek nodded, absolute certain that he didn’t want to tell his betas any of this. He wanted to do right by them, without anything in return. Even if it only would be credit, he did not want either of it. Lydia nodded her understanding, a heart-warming smile lighting up her features as she left the alpha’s house.





Stiles sat awkwardly inside his mate’s living room. Derek was grabbing him some hot coffee. He heard the kitchen appliances whirring in the adjacent kitchen. Despite the fact that it were just mere months that the alpha was actually living here, it already looked like a genuine home.

“So,” Stiles started. Trying to get a conversation going. “How are you?” He opted to go for normal conversing instead of doing the word vomit he just had. Blurting his heart out and only to be met with an expressionless alpha, eying him stoically.

Derek came walking back in, with two mugs of steaming coffee. “I’m decent,” the alpha started, voice unnervingly impassive. “Earlier, Jax came along, accompanied by the twins and Lydia—” Derek left that hanging. “We had a talk. Now, we’re going to have a little talk.”

Stiles felt uncertain of what was coming next. He’d already blurted out how he felt on the doorstep. He already told Derek how he felt about the situation. It had been a sweet release for him, but it also made him feel very fragile. Because he, was the one who’d already opened up. Like other times, where Derek was still closed off and unresponsive to his feelings. Making them become unrequited, even though deep inside Derek felt differently. Stiles knew, that it was part of Derek’s charm, but at times like these, it made him feel like a piece of glass, hanging on by a thread, waiting to fall into a million pieces once it would finally snap. Still, Stiles had so much want, blazing want, to be a part of Derek’s life. To be together—with Derek.

He cautiously sipped from his coffee mug, afraid to burn his lips, hot steam still rolling off of it. “Wait, Lydia was here?” Stiles realised startled. “But she was going to take over my tasks?” Stiles fervently rambled keys on his phone, sending her a text.

‘Thanks a lot Lydia! I thought you would take over but instead I find out you’ve been with Derek!
Please tell me you’ve done the job, or I will have a major meltdown. X Stiles’

Within three seconds he already received a reply.

Relax, it’s all been taken care of. Now you go enjoy that hunky piece of meat named Derek. XoXo Lydia.’

That settled in in a matter of seconds. Stiles turned off his phone entirely. “Sorry…, I had a minor mental meltdown.” He admitted sheepishly.

Way to ruin the moment Stiles. He fiddled with the ear of his mug, feeling bit restless and in need of having to do something with his hands— needing the distraction it offered. “So, you were saying?” The slighter eyed the alpha in front of him, curiously. Derek quirked his eyebrow, his mask still in place, making Stiles very self-conscious.

“Well, we’re going to talk,” The alpha indulged him, a frown wrinkling his forehead. “You’ve made it very clear about how you feel in regards to me, right on the doorstep,” The words were told slightly chastened. Derek placed his hand on Stiles’ leg. “I hear you Stiles,” Derek started. “I hear you and I understand where you’re coming from.”

A puff of air escaped from him. A small release of the tension that was currently bottled up inside of him.

We just have to make it work! Stiles pleaded inside his mind. I can’t live a life without him, it would be too normal, too bland. He’d admitted to himself.

“I’m willing to give this—whatever this is going to be, a shot.” Stiles' gaze was boring into Derek’s eyes. He made sure Derek wouldn’t leave his gaze. Grabbing his full attention.

“I do too Stiles,” the alpha had said to him. “But, with that being said, I have a few conditions.” He stated.

Stiles had already predicted this would happen, it was only natural to lay certain guide lines if they were going to make this work. He’d already decided to make concessions on certain aspects, but that was up to Derek to voice out. Otherwise he had a few suggestions of his own to share.

“Firstly, and this one is very important for me,” Derek pointed out. “You have to renege on the part of your company that made the bracelets. I’ve talked it over with Lydia. I know why you started doing this in the first place, but I simply cannot embrace something, that caused me and my brethren so much pain.”

Stiles opened up his mouth to speak, but Derek held up his hand. “No wait, let me finish.” Derek scraped his chin, “I am not holding you accountable for what happened with the bracelets. Not anymore. I know it wasn’t fair of me to pin this on you. Still, I can’t condone what has happened because of all that came to be. Lydia gave me a fact sheet that you could sell that part of the company for a tremendous amount of money, while keeping the ownership of the idea. You could always use that as a nest egg. I know I’m asking a lot, but this is my very first condition.”

This time it was Stiles’ turn to shush Derek. “Derek, I know. I’ve given it considerable thought the last time we’ve had this conversation. I have also done the math and I’m willing to part with that side of the company. It will take some time, you have to give me that, because I am not going to fire a bunch of stuff working in that branch, without having something to back them up, or a new job. Danny is, as we speak, devising a new marketing plan to use that section, but as huge as my company is, this will require time. Time I’m hoping you will give me.”

Stiles took Derek’s hand. “I promise you, that I will find a way. If worst comes to shove, I guarantee I will shut it down, even if I take losses.” Stiles felt himself relax physically, like a weight had fallen off from his shoulders.. The elephant was no longer in the room.

“I can understand that, but don’t take too long” Derek said with a playful growl. A hint of truth laced within the sentence.

Stiles drank another gulp of coffee, it had cooled considerably and his throat was mighty dry from all this talking. “You said you had more conditions, you just named the first condition. Is the rest worse, or easier?”

Derek smirked at him. “That depends on you.”

Stiles took another swig of his coffee, and saw it was empty already. He waggled the mug in front of Derek, “Refill please.”

The alpha let out a grunt, and then Derek kicked off his shoes. He then got up, with the mug Stiles had held out and went for a refill.

“Eww, what’s that smell,” Stiles said with a fake, grossed out face. Stiles gave an obvious glance at Derek’s feet.

“Stiles,” Derek had growled at him. He saw a small smile play out on Derek’s face. It’s been a while since I saw him smile, Stiles tho