#dark pack

Now that caught her attention … a little. She dropped her eyes to the speaker, another Ventrue who wore a dark tweed suit and affected a monocle. She couldn’t remember his name, but she knew he had some kind of stake in the British Museum. ‘Beckett?’ she repeated incredulously. ‘The famed Kindred scholar? Here, now?’

The Ventrue shrugged. ‘So I’ve heard. My retainers have had some very …singular requests for night-time access to the museum, and none of the usual suspects are admitting to it, and according to some friends of mine, the exhibits that have been enquired about are exactly the sort of thing….’

Christina sighed and let her eyes drift upward again. Cuthbert Beckett was a very old and very famous (or infamous) Gangrel who supposedly travelled the world, searching for information on the truth behind the Kindred condition and the myths of Gehenna, the vampires’ version of the end of the world. Hearing that he was in town was like hearing that the Mothman had been sighted nearby. Almost certainly untrue, but if there was any truth to it there was probably a good story behind it. ‘I highly doubt there’s anything in the British Museum he hasn’t already seen a hundred times if he cared to,’ she said languidly.

The party had thinned out as dawn crept closer and closer, the younger ones drifting away to their havens before the first fingers of the encroaching sun could pull on them and make them drowsy. Christina was old enough that she still had some time before she had to leave, but that meant sitting with these antiquated Kindred and listening to them talk about their relics and stocks and shares and, apparently, vampire fairytales. She stood up, affecting a yawn. ‘I’m afraid I must retire,’ she announced, the regret in her voice entirely fake. ‘Dawn is coming, and I have a distance to go. Good morning, gentlemen.’

She barely heard the polite goodbyes as she left. The Keeper in charge of this particular party had everything under control, so there was really no need for her to be there any more. She’d only stayed as long as she had to wait for Michael, but he’d never come out from the door that led to the Prince’s private rooms. His loss, she thought bitterly as she stepped into the elevator that would take her to the ground floor. But really, it was her loss. She’d been looking forward to catching up with her old friend, and the fact that he hadn’t returned to her stung. Whatever business he has with the Prince had better be damned important.

Her mind wandered back to the conversation she had just left. Beckett being in town… She smiled faintly to herself. Now there was a Kindred she wouldn’t mind bumping into. The stories said he was very old, very knowledgeable, and very charming. And she had a soft spot for Americans. Now that would make for an interesting night.

Keep hoping, she told herself, as the elevator chimed and the doors opened. He’s probably just as boring as those stiffs upstairs. If he even exists.

Stiles had caught Peter’s eye because he was a force of nature. The entire world seemed to be able to shift on its axis under the command of the young Stilinski. He’d always had an element of otherness that Peter couldn’t quite place and nobody else seemed to identity it in him, so he remained quiet until he was more sure. After the Nogitsune, that only developed further and Peter could identify the exact moment he realised it. They’d been fighting the newest big bad in Beacon Hills and as usual Peter was reluctant to help, he was sure they’d tackle it just fine without him, but then he met Stiles’ eye and he almost shivered at what he found there. It intrigued him as the boy always had, but in an entirely new way. Stiles was dangerous now, in a way he’d deliberately avoided showing the others, he had to know more.

Peter had caught Stiles’ eye because he was intelligent. Peter Hale could convince just about anyone that the sky was pink just because he’d said it in the right way, of course that is manipulation, but it all comes back to intelligence. He speaks in a way that is so sure, he knows what he says and chooses his words carefully so that you always know exactly what he means. Peter was also the least righteous of everyone that Stiles knew. Peter wasn’t afraid of the grey area between right and wrong, and would choose that grey area every time if it meant that he could accomplish his goals, which were rarely misplaced. Stiles admired him. He also knew that if there was anyone that would refuse to cower from what he’d become, it was Peter, so he showed him.

They didn’t address it, it was just a silent understanding between them both. The danger passed with the combination of Stiles’ quick mind and Peter’s information, though the pack failed to notice either. Stiles was sitting in his room one night when he heard a Werewolf struggling at his window. He looked up with a smirk and wasn’t surprised when it was Peter he found there. He released the spell that kept his window closed and Peter climbed inside with awe in his eyes.

“You have magic.” He observed, never one to beat around the bush.

“Hello to you too, Peter. What lovely weather we’re having.” Stiles replied with a snicker, looking back to his computer where he was working on his own copy of the bestiary.

“You haven’t told the pack.” Peter then added, not rising to Stiles’ teasing even if it was tempting to do so.

“Could you imagine their reactions?” Stiles asked, the words likely meant to be humorous but they fell flat in the face of the truth of what Stiles had said. They wouldn’t take it well.

“You told me.” Peter said as he sat on the corner of Stiles’ desk, about as close as he could get before he would be so close he could touch the boy in front of him.

“I showed you, you chose to see it.” Stiles replied, a smile playing at his lips as he inserted a cartoon image of a Werewolf that was nothing like what they truly looked like, but it brought him some amusement in the face of the dark information the book contained.

“Why do I feel like there’s something of note in that reply?” He asked as he shook his head at the sight on Stiles' screen, though he chose not to comment on it.

“You wouldn’t have seen it if my magic hadn’t known that you would react positively. Or, at least not negatively. And it was right.” Stiles finally stopped what he was doing and pushed back his chair so that he could look at Peter fully.

“You speak of your magic as if it is a separate entity to you.” 

“In a way it is. I had magic before the Nogitsune but when it left, my own magic took some of what it had to make itself stronger. It acts without me thinking, the bonus of being a Spark.”

“You don’t need to learn runes or incantations, even if they help, your magic simply does what you want it to or what it needs to for you to survive.” Peter had heard of Sparks before, but they were rare and so the information about them was sparse and questionable at best.

“If I hadn’t been a Spark, the Nogitsune would’ve killed me. It was taking some of its magic that kept me alive after it left my body.” Stiles explained with a casual shrug, as if he wasn’t talking about how close he’d come to death. Peter was surprised by his general lack of reaction and chose that moment to scent the air, only to find the sour scent of anxiety and stress. He was quite the actor, but nothing could cover that scent.

“You needed someone else to share your secret.” Peter observed, taking that moment to really take in the man in front of him. Stiles was eighteen, the year older than his friends, he’d been kept back a year after his mother’s death. During his time being possessed, Stiles had lost a lot of weight and the bags under his eyes had bordered on being impressive. Post-possession Stiles still wasn’t quite back to where he’d been before in terms of weight but it was clear he had become focused on muscle building so he was a more serious threat. 

“I needed someone who would understand the space between the light and the dark.” Stiles stood then, raising his hand as a small trail of light danced around his fingertips and for just a moment Peter allowed himself to be mesmerised. Then, Stiles literally flicked the light at Peter and it burned when it made contact.

“Your magic is better for causing damage, rather than preventing it, because of what you took from the Nogitsune.” Peter guessed, but as usual he said it as if he could speak the truth into existence purely by saying it with enough confidence.

“Protective spells are boring, they’re easy. Things like this? They’re exciting. The power almost dances around my skin when it realises what I’m doing to do. Another gift of the Nogitsune, I guess. I’m still looking for pain and strife,” Stiles shrugged once again, summoning a larger ball of light to sit in his palm and the light above their heads went out as if he’d taken the light from there, “you understand that. Wanting to cause harm because you’ve got something to protect.”

“I do. I’d say better than anyone else that you know.” The only light illuminating them both was the ball in Stiles’ palms as he tossed it between his hands, playing with it as if it was a tennis ball or something similar.

“That’s why it let you see. You aren’t going to hurt me, or turn me in. In fact, if I was a betting man I’d say you would rather keep it to yourself. You like a good secret, especially from Scott.” Peter could only laugh at that. It was true, he liked to have information that other people didn’t, liked having the upper hand.

“You see me for what I am. Raw power. Deaton looks at me like I’m a battery. He sees because he saw my Spark before the Nogitsune, so he saw it change after.” Stiles then said, taking amusement in the way Peter’s face shifted at the mention of the questionable druid that took the role of emissary for the pack.

“A battery for what?” 

“Wrong question. I think you know exactly what for. Ask again.” Another trait of the Nogitsune that had been left behind, Stiles had a newfound appreciation for games.

“What are you going to do about it?” Peter asked, brow raising as he appreciated the changed man for what he was, realising that this Stiles was entirely different from the one he’d offered the Bite to in the parking garage.

“Well, a battery can both give and receive energy. Deaton can’t take what I have, if he has nothing of his own. Only issue is that it might kill him, same as him taking my magic could kill me.”

“That’s where I come in, I suppose?”

“Well, it would save me a lot of hassle if he just disappeared. And don’t worry I know you don’t work for free, so how does proof of him being involved in the Hale fire sound?” Stiles offered, returning the light in his palm to the ceiling light as he sat down on his bed.

“You found proof?” Peter asked, shocked. Deaton was the one person he hadn’t been able to find concrete proof of involvement for, and so he hadn’t allowed himself to kill the druid.

“Tricky things, memory spells. I hate them, myself, but they are useful.” Stiles crossed his legs at the ankles, looking expectantly at Peter. “You’re missing some memories too, but you knew that one didn’t you?”

“Talia took them from me, I don’t remember why. I suppose that’s the point of taking them in the first place.”

“I can give them back to you, once Deaton is disposed of, obviously. I get rid of Deaton, for the both of us, you hide his body and then I share with you the memories I took from him and give you back yours. How does that sound?” Stiles asked, holding his hand out for Peter to shake an agreement.

“I benefit more than you do.”

“I’d be in your debt if you didn’t. You’re keeping my secret.”

“You don’t like debts.”

“Do you?”

Deaton was gone by the end of the week. 

Peter had a daughter, she’d gone missing a few years ago after a car accident, body never recovered. Stiles had offered to visit the site with him, to tend to his own curiosity if nothing else. They stood in front of the wreck, Peter investigating by scenting and looking, while Stiles used his magic to send feelers out into the leylines.

“You know something.” Peter said, and Stiles wore an amused smile. Peter spent a lot of time now following behind Stiles, figuring out what the younger man already knew just a moment after Stiles had found it himself.

“The Earth talks.” He replied cryptically and Peter once again found himself struck by the fact that if Stiles so pleased, he truly could make the Earth bend to his will. He’d connected with the Nemeton after Deaton had died, becoming the tree’s new protector, by any means necessary.

“What does it say about my daughter?” Peter asked, standing from where he’d been kneeling beside the wreck, about to brush the dirt from his trousers when a particularly magical feeling wind blew it all away perfectly, not a speck left behind.

“Your lover, the desert wolf, a werecoyote. Your daughter, a werecoyote like her mother. There’s a coyote that regularly visits this spot. What does that tell you?” Stiles asked, moving to stand beside Peter, realising he was looking at a partly destroyed and very dirty child’s toy. It gave him an idea.

“Malia is wandering around in full shift and has been since the accident.” Peter summarised, and Stiles found himself once again being glad for Peter’s intelligence. He thought quickly, followed Stiles’ train of thought in a way that others couldn’t.

“And I think I know how to catch her.” Stiles replied with a smirk, reaching out to grab the toy in front of him. “She’s in full shift, but she’s still a human girl beneath it. One who killed her own mother and sister, adopted or not. How much would you be willing to bet that she comes back here regularly?”

“I thought you weren’t a gambling man?” Peter replied, holding his hand out to take the doll, and Stiles handed it to him.

Stiles’ plan had, of course, been a success. They’d lured Malia in with the toy they’d taken from her sister’s grave and with a flick of his hand, Stiles had returned Malia to her human form. Peter had dressed her quickly, helping brush some of the dirt from her wild hair, while Stiles finally returned the doll to her. Peter had explained to her what had happened and Stiles aided her transition into normal life with magic. Peter and Malia were Pack, but only to Stiles, not the others. Scott would never accept Peter, not fully, he’d always just barely be pack, just enough to not be an Omega and therefore not be a threat, and Malia was his daughter, so she was much the same. Stiles didn’t care, he’d connected with Malia through his use of his magic to help her through everyday life. Peter helped as much as he could, but the magic worked quicker. Malia got no shortage of strange looks, plenty of people whispered about her, but they all ended up in convenient minor accidents afterwards and Malia took great joy in telling Peter about them all, never shy about the fact that it was Stiles causing them to happen. Three of them, content to exist in the grey, to take pleasure in other’s pain when it was deserved.

When Scott turned Liam, Stiles was about ready to rip his hair out. He’d given supernatural strength to a kid who already struggled with keeping his composure, and felt guilty about it. He’d created a small and surprisingly jacked guilt machine. That wasn’t something Stiles could accept. When Liam finally came around to what had happened to him, Stiles took him to Peter.

“Well, he’s going to have trouble.” Peter said simply, looking at Liam where he was sitting at Peter’s dining table.

“I know that, that’s why I brought him to you.” Stiles replied with a shrug. Peter was a born Wolf, he’d watched his nieces and nephews age and gain control of their shifts, just like his siblings. If anyone would be able to help, it’d be Peter.

“You’re the one helping Malia.” Peter pointed out, folding his arms over his chest. Stiles had used a spell to make sure Liam wouldn’t be able to hear them, he didn’t need to hear whatever they said about him.

“That’s different. We saved Malia, she sees me everyday, I’m the reason she can live a normal life.” He gestured with his hand, not concerned about the fact that Liam would now be aware of his magic. If Liam said anything, he’d find a way out of it, he always did.

“And Liam?” Peter then asked, turning to Stiles with a sigh. In truth, this is not what he’d been expecting when Stiles said that he was coming over. The two of them had been getting closer, both aware of the mutual attraction between them, but they enjoyed the chase too much to give it up yet.

“Figured you’d seen plenty of wolves learn to control their shift, probably helped Derek. You two were close, right? Plus, Liam is a kid and he’s scared. You’re an adult, unashamed, willing to hurt. I think you’re just what he needs.” Stiles explained, letting go of the privacy spell to approach Liam. This had better work. 

To control his shift, Liam needed an anchor. Peter had always used his knowledge for that. He was his own anchor. Used the idea that if he lost control, he’d lose what he valued most and for him that was his freedom to pursue knowledge. It wasn’t the same for Liam, but they quickly found that pain helped ground him. They used it sparingly, Stiles always starting the healing process for him so that he was never bleeding for long. Eventually, they found that like Derek, Liam could use his anger to ground himself, but also his guilt. He knew what his anger did, and holding onto what he could do now he was a Werewolf helped him keep himself in check. Stiles wasn’t sure he approved, but Peter said his anchor could change with time, so for now at least it would work. When the full moon came, Stiles, Peter, Malia and Liam enjoyed a movie night together at Peter’s apartment. Scott had wanted to go on a date with Kira and Liam’s friends still didn’t know so when Stiles offered to take Liam and explained he’d already helped Malia, Scott was happy to let him do so. They had a nice night together, as if it wasn’t the full moon at all. Though, there was a large amount of popcorn thrown at the TV that Stiles had to clean up at the end of the night.

Occupied by Stiles and the magic he has, Peter had temporarily abandoned his quest for power. When the pack headed to Mexico, Peter followed valiantly behind, wanting to keep a close eye on the three people that now trusted him. It was a small list that grew steadily, people who understood him. The temple was a hot spot for power and Stiles could feel it, he knew that Peter knew the same. Maybe they’d come back here alone, take some of its power for the Nemeton. Who knew what that would do, but who cared? Power for the Nemeton is power for the Nemeton.

When Theo arrived, Stiles knew that he was trouble, so he did what he does best. He got involved. Peter backed him, said the boy was clearly trouble, so with Peter at his side they approached Theo alone. Theo saw in Stiles the boy he’d come for, he saw Void, saw his magic from the moment he saw him. That fact caught Stiles by surprise - he hadn’t expected his magic to reveal itself. That meant he could be redeemed.

“You see my magic.” Stiles said, feeling the way Peter bristled just slightly beside him. A reaction Theo wouldn’t notice, but by now Peter and Stiles had spent plenty of time together, and Stiles noticed those types of things.

“I do. It’s part of the reason I came home.” Theo admitted, caught off guard by Stiles’ spell of truth.

“Knows my magic, can’t feel me using it. You’re not a Werewolf.” Stiles said, glancing at Peter from the corner of his eye. Peter stepped closer, taking Theo’s face in his hand, inspecting him with narrowed eyes.

“How did you know about Stiles’ magic before coming here?” Peter asked him, flashing blue eyes at the younger man. A threat. Stiles wanted to laugh, Peter hadn’t been intimidating to him in a long time, but he knew that the effect still very much applied to others.

“Everyone knows about Void.” Theo answered simply, catching both of them off guard. Neither had realised how far the tales of what Void had done had spread, and it made Stiles feel almost sick. He didn’t want to be known that way.

“What are you?” Stiles then asked, strengthening his spell to make sure Theo couldn’t escape telling the truth. He could see the way Theo was struggling to remain silent, the pain it caused to try to hide the truth. He took some small pleasure in it.

“A Chimera. A genetic experiment. Half Werewolf, half Werecoyote.” He finally answered, when the pain had become too much for him. Peter let go of him then, moving back to Stiles’ side, though he didn’t turn back to face Theo. He studied Stiles for a moment, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder, then moved to stand directly behind him. Peter Hale liked to have power, but there was one man he was willing to defer to. Stiles.

“Why are you here?” Stiles then asked, staring directly into the eyes of the boy who had once been his friend. Theo wasn’t that boy anymore, no, he was something else now. Someone else. He wondered what he’d been through while he was gone. A genetic experiment.

“I want a pack. I’ve heard the stories about Beacon Hills. The Werecoyote, with kill first instincts; the Kitsune, on the brink of losing control; the Banshee, surrounded by death; the Beta with anger issues like no other; Void Stiles, host to a Nogitsune, who searches for pain and strife. The perfect pack.” Theo answered, and for a moment Stiles pitied him. He truly believed what he was saying. Stiles released him from the truth spell and took a step closer to the Chimera. He reached up and cupped Theo’s face, looking at him intently.

“Welcome home, Theo.” He said, smiling at him. Theo had been through something, Stiles could feel his agony. He’d done terrible things as Void, Peter had murdered people for justice, Malia had killed her own mother. He’d find a home with them. Maybe not the pack he wanted, but the pack he needed.

Later, Stiles was laying in Peter’s bed. They’d sent Theo back to wherever he was staying, Stiles said he’d be in touch, and then they’d gone to Peter’s place. Stiles’ dad was working that night so he didn’t see the point in going home. Him and Peter hadn’t so much as kissed yet, nevermind had sex, but they did this sometimes. Just lay in bed together.

“Why?” Peter asked after a moment, turning to look at Stiles.

“Why what?” Stiles asked, half amused and half confused. He turned to be laying fully on his side, just looking at Peter.

“He didn’t include Scott in that list. You can’t have a pack without an Alpha.” Peter pointed out, and Stiles just nodded. He’d seen that exact thing in what Theo had said, clearly what Peter was missing is why that wasn’t an issue for Stiles.

“He’s like us.” Stiles replied, shuffling in closer to Peter, who instinctively reached out to take Stiles’ hand. They weren’t romantically involved, not really, what they had now was beyond that. Stiles didn’t doubt that was where they were headed, but their connection was different. It was other. Like them.

“How?” Peter then asked. Sometimes he knew exactly what Stiles meant, then asked anyway because he just liked listening to him, hearing how his mind worked. Sometimes Stiles still surprised him.

“Something happened to him. He’s a genetic experiment. His sister died when he was nine. There’s no way he signed up for those experiments. That makes him like us. Doing things he doesn’t quite want to, for a purpose he thinks he believes in. He’s done bad things, but he can do better.” Stiles answered. The more he used his magic, the more fox-like traits emerged in him. As he became stronger, he was able to use more of the power left behind by the Nogitsune, like he was earning it. One side effect of that? He now purred like a fox. Peter reached up and cupped Stiles’ face, moving his hand then to his hair to almost pet him.

“You want to give him what he’s looking for.” Peter said, smiling as Stiles did begin to softly purr. He didn’t think that anyone else knew he could do that, even those that knew about his magic.

“I want to give him what he needs. The dark pack he wants? That’s not it. Us? We’re halfway there, more like what he really needs.” Stiles corrected, leaning into Peter’s touch. He wasn’t sure he’d ever tire of the feeling of Peter’s hands on him, touching entirely innocently.

“You say that as if we’re our own pack.”

“Aren’t we?”

With Theo on Stiles’ side, willing to share unlimited truths with him, thinking he was going to give Theo what he wanted, it was relatively easy to deal with the dread doctors, with minimal damage. However, there was one small hiccup. The pack found out about Stiles’ magic.

Stiles had been ready to take them on, had been looking the elderly bastards in the eye when Scott came charging in, ready to ‘save’ him. The doctors of course would’ve easily put Scott on his backside and that wasn’t something Stiles could allow. He threw out his hand and knocked the three of them down, and in another swift motion he’d beheaded them all. His breathing was laboured, and he could feel Scott’s eyes on him. He’d taken them out, the threat was eliminated, but now Scott was looking at him as if he was the threat. Peter ran into the room, he’d said he’d follow Stiles the moment he knew he could, and the scene he found was not what he’d expected.

“You said you wanted to talk to them first.” Peter said, stuck between going to inspect the bodies and checking Stiles was okay.

“Had to protect Scott.” Stiles replied, and it was only then that Peter spotted the Alpha on the other side of the room. Peter knew then that he needed to go to Stiles. Once he was close enough, Stiles fell into Peter’s arms, letting the Werewolf hold him, rubbing a hand over his back. This was not how he’d wanted the pack to find out. Because Scott knowing did mean the pack knowing. The three stood in silence for a long while, until Theo joined them.

“You did it.” He said excitedly, looking between the doctors and Stiles. Of course he knew who it was, no Werewolf could decapitate someone so cleanly.

“He knew?” Scott asked, betrayal written all over his face.

“Oh shit.” Theo mumbled, pausing as he studied Scott and then Stiles. He took out his phone to tell the others what had happened, and it was only moments later that Liam and Malia burst into the room, heading straight for Stiles.

“How many people knew?” Scott asked when his first question wasn’t answered, his upset turning to anger.

“These guys.” Stiles answered, voice thick with unshed tears. He was going to start panicking if he didn’t handle himself correctly and that would mean his magic would go haywire, it’d lash out.

“But you didn’t tell me?” Scott then prodded, eyes flashing red when Liam growled at him. Scott may be his Alpha but he certainly hadn’t acted like it. It was Stiles that had been there for him. Peter wrapped his arms tighter around Stiles, knowing the pressure would give him comfort. Malia rested her hand on Liam’s shoulder to help keep him calm, while Theo hesitated just between the two. If this went right, Liam may try to attack Scott, and that was what he wanted. Stiles reached a hand up in Theo’s direction.

“Forget it or I put you to sleep.” He said simply, eyes fixed on Theo’s. He didn’t say more than that because he didn’t need to -  Theo knew what he meant. At those words, Theo made his choice. He approached Stiles who smiled and nodded to him. “I think you might be right, dear.” Peter mumbled into Stiles’ hair, and they both knew what he meant. When they’d first spoken to Theo, Stiles had implied that they had a pack of their own, separate to Scott’s, and now Peter could see it too. He hadn't doubted Stiles, he'd learnt quickly that doubting him just wasted time, but this was the first time he'd truly felt it. Theo joining them snapped something inside him, he could feel their bonds.

It was Lydia who joined them next, and Stiles couldn’t find it in himself to feel any more guilty. She looked over the scene and Stiles could count the number of realisations she had just looking at them.

“The Nogitsune?” She asked with a tilted head, wondering how she’d never noticed that there was something different about Stiles.

“Partly.” He replied with a smile. Lydia was the only person other than Peter that had ever been able to keep up with him, and he had a suspicion that Theo would join that list of people.

“Peter?” She then asked, more disappointed than before, but he could hear the smile in her voice. She wasn’t mad at him.

“Yeah.. apparently.” He replied with a soft laugh, feeling Peter smile against his head. This really wasn’t how he’d wanted to tell everyone what had been happening with him over the last year, but it was the chance he’d been given.

“You need an Alpha.” Lydia then said, making Scott cough and splutter. She turned to him with a smile and shook her head fondly, then approached to stand beside him and rubbed a hand over his back. “I’ll explain later, Liam looks ready to kill.” She said, making Stiles and Peter laugh.

“That’s just what he looks like.” Peter said, laughing when Liam turned that same expression on him. Stiles managed to break from Peter’s arms just before Liam launched at him, them both growling at each other with grins on their faces. Scott and Lydia watched in awe. They thought their pack was family, but they’d missed what was right under their noses. “This is why you don’t need your dark pack.” Stiles told Theo, startling the Chimera. He hadn’t heard the Spark’s footsteps.

“What do you mean?” Theo asked, looking between Peter and Liam ‘fighting’ each other and Stiles.

“I mean, this is what you need. Family. Healing. And if you’ll have us, we can offer you that.” Stiles told him, wrapping an arm around Theo’s shoulders. The three of them had been brothers as kids, Theo had just left, but now he could have that again.

“Lydia is right. There’s no Alpha.” Theo replied. He wanted the pack he saw. The family. But he also knew that without an Alpha they would all struggle. By establishing themselves as a pack officially, they’d lose Scott.

“We have one.” Peter said after a moment, lifting Liam by the back of his shirt with a grin. Liam was struggling to be let down while Malia just laughed. Scott baulked again, making Stiles look his way.

“Nobody here.” Stiles told him with a laugh, glancing to Lydia to watch as she tried to figure it out. Then, as if he’d been waiting to make a dramatic entrance (probably because he had been) Deucalion entered the room.

“Alpha.” Stiles greeted with a smirk, him and Peter falling into laughter as Lydia, Scott and Theo watched with open mouths. He’d been the one to get into contact with Deucalion, to ask him to come and keep an eye on Theo for him. In return, he offered the man a fresh start that was safe. Stiles could stop him from hurting any one of them with his magic if Deucalion ever felt the pull to kill his own again.

“What a warm welcome.” Deucalion drawled, heading straight for Stiles, who reached out to shake his hand. 

When Deucalion had first arrived in Beacon Hills, before he had to watch over Theo, he’d gone for coffee with Peter and Stiles. The three of them had discussed the power dynamics that their pack would have. Peter and Stiles had a dynamic, Peter was the brawn, he was the one who did the dirty work if there was some to be done, but in reality Stiles held the power between the two of them and if he needed to, Peter was willing to defer to Stiles. But now, they were introducing a new authority to the mix. They’d agreed that Peter was best in the role of pack enforcer, doing as he already had been, just with a shiny new title. Between Stiles and Deucalion it was less clear. Deucalion was the Alpha, the leader, the one with real influence over the Betas, but Stiles was the reason they’d chosen the pack and they trusted him. Stiles was content to fall in line and follow Deucalion’s orders, but the Alpha hadn’t been content with that. He’d said that Stiles deserved more than to fall into line, had offered the chance to be equals. Stiles had agreed. It would be unconventional, but everything about their pack was already unconventional. It suited them just fine.

“Alpha.” Peter greeted with a smirk, laughing as Deucalion shook his head and greeted Peter with a bump of their shoulders. Stiles stepped away from Theo to return to Peter, nodding for him to return Liam to the floor, and then took Peter’s arms for himself, wrapping them around his body.

“You haven’t actually answered anything.” Scott pointed out, now more confused than anything else. Stiles looked long and hard at Scott, letting Peter’s arms around him keep him focused on the moment, keep his anxiety at bay.

“And I won’t. Not tonight. I’m tired and we have things to talk about at home.” Stiles finally replied, glad when Deucalion stepped to stand beside him. He was new, he wasn’t fully in the know about what was happening, but he was willing to assist. Stiles had made the right choice in calling him.

"So.. what? You kill three people, you've been keeping magic and a relationship with Peter secret and you've been making your own pack behind my back and I'm supposed to be okay with that?" Scott asked, pushing Lydia's hand away when she tried to rest it on his shoulder to calm him. Stiles could feel the pack around him growing tense, none more than Peter, so he squeezed his hand then stepped away. He stepped to stand in front of Scott, looking straight into his eyes. He wasn't scared. Not if being scared put his pack at risk.

"I killed three people that would've killed you if I hadn't. People who were torturing and killing children, one of those kids was Theo, in case you missed that," Stiles started, watching the way Scott's expression softened slightly when his eyes fell on Theo, "I kept my magic a secret to protect myself. I'm practically half fox. Would you have really been okay with that? Honestly? And Peter has never been a secret, you just didn't ask." He then added, holding a hand up for Liam to keep his distance before he could so much as take a step closer.

"The pack?" Scott prodded, pushing away the awe he felt at how in touch Stiles was with the pack that he'd built for himself.

"I wasn't building a pack behind your back. It was just me and Peter at first. He noticed my magic, so I was honest with him. It was a weight off my shoulders. I helped him remember Malia, so we went to save her together and helped her adjust. You turned Liam and I took him to Peter to get help finding his anchor. Peter and I knew Theo was a threat, so we dealt with it. Only then did I go looking for Deucalion, because no matter what my intentions were, I had built a pack." Scott and Stiles maintained eye contact, the air abuzz with the power both of them had. Everyone could feel the tension.

"And you're not a threat?" Scott finally asked, the question he'd had since the moment he'd known what Stiles could do. Stiles knew his pack took offence to that, all of them ready to rush to their defence, but what Stiles said next caught them all off guard.

"Unless you hurt them." He said simply, taking a breath and releasing his power. Stiles every day made sure to cloak his magic, hiding his power like Werewolves could hide their chemosignals, but to make his point now he'd show it all. Scott took a step back, eyes flashing red, overwhelmed by it.

"If I do?" He asked, just because he had to know. Scott needed to understand the threat that had just been posed to him and his own pack.

"I can take your Alpha spark." Stiles said with a shrug, not bothering to reign in his magic. It buzzed around him, rich with excitement at the idea of it. Scott wasn't worthy of the power he'd been given. He had so much potential but little ability to act on that potential. His magic wanted to take the spark from him.

"My Alpha spark can only be taken by one of my own Betas." Scott retorted, but he didn't look so sure. Stiles laughed and shook his head but said nothing more. He pulled his magic back to himself, hiding it all over again, then turned from Scott. 

In a moment of panic, Scott reached out and slashed Stiles' back with his claws, who hissed. Lydia gasped and grabbed Scott, pulling him to her body to stop him from doing anything more. Both she and Stiles knew she couldn't really stop him, but he appreciated the sentiment.

"Are you threatened by me, Scott?" He asked with a raised brow and a small smirk. He caught Peter's eye, and the older man looked ready to devour him. "You should be." Stiles said when Scott didn't reply, and returned to his pack. With a click of his fingers, the wounds were gone, he was healed. Liam was the first to go to Stiles, letting the Spark rub a hand over the back of his neck to soothe him, he then reached out for a hug from Malia. He held the two of them letting them confirm that he was okay. When they stepped back, Stiles turned to Theo.

“You’re one of us now. That good with you?” He asked with a lopsided smile, reaching his arm out to Theo for a welcoming hug. He let the power swirl behind his eyes, watching as Theo’s own eyes lit up, able to see it.

“Yeah, that’s good with me.” Theo confirmed, accepting the hug with a smile. Stiles held him for a long moment, feeling Theo relax in his arms. Clearly the dread doctors hadn’t been the most affectionate parents. Over Theo’s shoulder, he saw both Peter and Deucalion looking at him and he stuck out his tongue in their direction, knowing full well that they both could see it. Deucalion’s ‘Alpha vision’ was a blessing. He waited for Theo to pull away before he let go, ruffling his hair with a laugh before he moved on to Peter. Peter took his hand and gently squeezed it.

“You are nothing short of incredible.” Peter said softly, looking at Stiles with nothing but admiration. Stiles just beamed up at him. Neither said another word, communicating silently the feelings that they shared, and then Stiles stepped away to go back to the others, following them back out. Let the bodies be Scott’s problem.

“So you want to join the FBI?” Peter asked one night as he lay in bed, Stiles beside him. Stiles’ head rested on his chest, their fingers intertwined. They’d been laying in silence, Peter listening to the other sounds in his new place, a house big enough for all the pack members, telling Stiles what everyone was doing.

“I think so. I mean, I always wanted to be like my dad, you know?” Stiles replied, his eyes closed to focus on Peter’s heartbeat. It was a comforting sound, a steady beat for him to focus on.

“You’re a very different man to your father, Stiles.” Peter pointed out, tilting just slightly to be able to look down at the man in his arms. Stiles was nineteen now, in the middle of his senior year, and that meant that he had things to think about. He wanted to take a gap year, help the rest of his packmates with school. Theo had decided to return to school full time in Liam’s year and Malia, despite her efforts, had failed and needed to repeat a year. He wanted to support them all, so he would wait, then they could make their choices together.

“I know. I just never considered anything else so now I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t take up McCall’s offer.” He admitted, smiling at the feeling of Peter’s eyes on him. He often caught the Were staring but he didn’t mind anymore, it was more sweet than creepy nowadays.

“You could go to college.” Peter pointed out, and they both knew that for Stiles that was the only other real option, he wasn’t suggesting anything groundbreaking, but it opened a conversation between them.

“I could just.. Stay in your bed and never leave.” He replied with a laugh, turning to lay on his stomach, looking up at Peter with a dopey smile. They still hadn’t kissed. It was something that Stiles spent a lot of time thinking about, kissing Peter. But by this point it had built up and it felt important that would be an emotional moment, perfectly timed.

“I have enough money for two.” He easily replied, brushing his fingers through Stiles’ hair with a fond smile. But they both knew Stiles couldn’t be tied down that easily. He would need something to do, whether it was FBI training, college, or even something else, though he knew just how unlikely that was.

“I’ve got time. I’ll figure it out.” Stiles said with a shrug, shuffling to lay fully on top of Peter, who wrapped his arms around Stiles’ body and before long they fell asleep like that.

“Peter!” Stiles screamed, thrusting out both of his arms and sending everyone to the ground, enemies and allies alike. Nobody touches his Wolf. He sprinted toward Peter, killing anyone who got in his way without so much as a second thought. Most knew better than to try. He dropped to his knees, resting a hand on Peter’s chest to begin to heal him.

“When did you get so strong?” Peter asked with a small smile, grunting softly from the pain. He’d been shot a few times, two different types of wolfsbane bullets.

“One them shattered inside you. Bastard hunters.” He muttered, not daring to close his eyes to focus, he didn’t want to risk something happening while he couldn’t see. He needed to heal Peter. Theo came running over, skidding to a halt on his knees.

“I’ll cover you.” He said, squeezing Stiles shoulder to assure him. His pack would protect him. Theo roared, eyes flashing golden and teeth on display, unafraid of going for the kill if anyone got too close.

“You’re going to be okay.” Stiles assured Peter softly. He raised his hand and began to draw the bullets from Peter’s body, making sure that they never went far after leaving his body, collecting them all safely so they couldn’t hurt anyone else. Peter laughed softly and reached up to cup Stiles’ cheek, making the spark meet his eyes.

“Of course I am. I’ve got you.” He said, and Stiles was hit by the overwhelming urge to kiss him.

“That was gross.” Malia commented as she came to stand on the other side of the two of them, watching Theo’s back and making sure that there was even less chance of anyone managing to hurt Peter again. Stiles laughed, sniffing softly, focusing back on drawing the bullets from Peter’s body. He’d need to burn the wolfsbane from him, but at least he could use his magic for that.

Before long, Deucalion and Liam had also joined them. Everyone that needed to be dealt with had been, and now their focus was entirely on Peter. Liam and Theo lifted him once Stiles had removed all of the bullet shards and they carried him to the parking lot where Theo had parked his truck. The two Betas lifted him into the back and Stiles climbed in after, kneeling down beside Peter to focus on getting the wolfsbane out of his system. The others returned to where the fight had taken place, wanting to destroy any weapons left behind.

“You look good on your knees.” Peter said with a smirk, reaching out to rest his hand on Stiles’ thigh. It was his attempt to lighten the mood, to help Stiles at least feel a little less stressed. If he was making jokes, he wasn’t dead. Stiles didn’t bother to reply. He lit a flame in his palm, ignoring how tired all the magic and stress was making him, and took to burning away the wolfsbane. When he was done, Stiles was about ready to collapse and Peter knew it. He sat up slowly and pulled Stiles into his lap, wrapping his arms around his waist.

“You’ve exhausted yourself.” Peter said softly, letting Stiles slump forward to rest his head on Peter’s shoulder.

“I needed you to be okay.” He replied simply. It wasn’t complicated, not to him. Peter needs to be okay. Peter sighed, but accepted his reasoning. He’d near burn the whole town to ashes if something happened to Stiles, so he couldn’t criticise him for it. Stiles sat up slowly, moving to instead rest his forehead against Peter’s so he could look at him and reassure himself that he was actually okay.

“I want to kiss you.” Stiles whispered, absently tracing his hand over Peter’s back. Peter’s eyes widened at his words. They both knew where they stood, what they wanted, they knew that they were waiting, but they never really talked about it.

“What’s stopping you?” Peter asked, not the reaction that Stiles was expecting. He sat up fully, just looking at the older man for a moment.

“Nothing.” Stiles answered finally and leaned in to kiss Peter softly.

His lips were soft, and kissing him felt so right, he found himself unsure as to why he’d waited this long to do it. Why would he deny himself this for so long? Peter gripped Stiles’ hip with one hand while the other rested on the back of his head, combing through his hair. Stiles wrapped both his arms around Peter’s neck, kissing him deeply, getting lost in the feeling of it. When they separated, Stiles couldn’t help laughing.

“It’s been a while since I’ve kissed someone, but I don’t think it was that bad.” Peter joked, leaning back against the cab, letting Stiles lean against his chest.