Mutual Understanding

Now that the Hale Pack is more or less stable, Stiles and Derek think that they'll catch a break. And then someone starts making human sacrifices. Stiles is still learning about his magic, Derek is still getting the hang of being Alpha, the pack is still settling with its newest members.
Things get even messier when Stiles' dad and Peter – who Stiles thinks are behaving very suspicious – find a coyote in the woods.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Teen Wolf || Sterek || Teen Wolf || Mutual Understanding || Teen Wolf || Sterek || Teen Wolf

Title: Mutual Understanding – Writer's Pride Month Bingo 2025

Tags: m/m, established relationship, alternate season 3A, Erica Lives, Boyd Lives, Jackson Doesn't Leave, No Alpha Pack, No True Alpha, Spark Stiles, Pack Mom Stiles, Pack Feels, True Mates, Dark Deaton, hurt/comfort, fluff, explicit intercourse, anal, oral, m/f

Main Pairing: Derek/Stiles

Side Pairings: Peter/Noah, Boyd/Erica, Jackson/Lydia, Scott/Allison

Teen Wolf Characters: Mieczysław 'Stiles' Stilinski, Derek Hale, Peter Hale, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd, Isaac Lahey, Jackson Whittemore, Lydia Martin, Danny Mahealani, Sheriff Noah Stilinski, Scott McCall, Allison Argent, Malia Tate, Marin Morrell, Alan Deaton

Pride Month Bingo 2025 Prompt: green/nature

Summary: Now that the Hale Pack is more or less stable, Stiles and Derek think that they'll catch a break. And then someone starts making human sacrifices. Stiles is still learning about his magic, Derek is still getting the hang of being Alpha, the pack is still settling with its newest members. Things get even messier when Stiles' dad and Peter – who Stiles thinks are behaving very suspicious – find a coyote in the woods.

Mutual Understanding

Writer's Pride Month Bingo 2025

"A bipedal lizard broke into my backyard," Stiles read aloud, blinking.

His father looked up from the stack of files in front of him and patted one. "Kanima pile."

"The mountain lion ate my cat," Peter sounded actually offended at that. "I will not take responsibility for that. I did not eat any cats."

Noah took a long moment to look at Peter with narrowed eyes before patting another pile. "Undetermined, then."

"I mean, there was a real, actual mountain lion," Stiles pointed out. "Chris Argent shot it. I still don't entirely know where that came from. Like, did the Argents capture a mountain lion to release it into the public just so they could shoot it…?"

The look on Noah's face changed into narrow-eyed annoyance and he started scribbling something onto a sheet of paper and placing it on the much earlier labeled 'Argent pile'. Stiles tried not to grin too much at the thought of his dad interrogating Chris about this.

"That is enough police-esque work for me," Peter sighed and got up. "I'll start dinner."

Without looking up from the file he was reading, Noah hummed. "But not the-"

"Yes, no Brussel sprouts," Peter made a dismissive gesture. "I was thinking green beans."

With one eyebrow raised did Stiles watch Noah and Peter. Seeing as his father was engrossed in whatever case he was currently reading, Stiles slipped out after Peter. He stuck to the doorway and watched the wolf, without any hesitancy or having to look around, take out pans, posts, the good knife and a cutting board. He moved around the kitchen like it was his. Crossing his arms, Stiles watched for another moment before returning to the living room.

"How often does Peter cook?" Stiles asked carefully.

"Not all the time," Noah dismissed him. "Sometimes, we get take-out."

Well, that was a surprisingly insightful non-answer. With narrowed eyes did Stiles go back to the kitchen and open the fridge. The packaged meat. He'd had a fight with his dad about the venison, since his dad was supposed to cut back on red meat but it looked like he robbed a butcher.

"Did you bring all the meat?" Stiles asked. "That's too much."

"I don't control how much meat is on a deer, darling."

On a deer. Stiles turned to stare doe-eyed at Peter. That venison had not been bought. That had been caught and, apparently, butchered by Peter. And made its way into the Stilinski fridge and freezer. The whole thing. Peter had caught and prepared a whole deer. Biting his lip, Stiles grabbed a drink and returned to the living room. He looked around with different intent this time. Lately, he'd been spending so much time at the Hale House with the pack, of course school and lacrosse practice, he hadn't really noticed the changes. They were subtle, but they were there.

New pillows on the couch that weren't as lumpy as the very old and worn-out ones they had before and that seemed to match the ones in Peter's apartment. The wardrobe for jackets had been cleaned up, the third hook that had been used for random things for years now stood empty. Not right now, because right now Peter's jacket was on it. There was a space on the shoe rag that was now occupied by Peter's shoes, not just put in the doorway like any other guest, but having a space, like they belonged here. On the coffee table was the book Peter had been reading lately, next to a water-glass on one of the new coasters that had popped up in the house about three weeks ago.

Stiles wanted to ask. Flat-out, bluntly ask. Did Peter Hale live here? Or did he just spend so much time over that he had carved a spot for himself here and if so: Were Peter and Noah together?

Stiles knew Peter was helping his dad go through all the old files to see which ones had been supernatural. He also knew Peter and Noah had been spending time together lately, ever since Stiles told his dad about the magic and Peter teaching him. But somehow, Stiles had thought that was about nostalgia and his mom, since Peter had been friends with Claudia. This didn't seem that way.

Stiles rolled these thoughts around in his head until Peter called them for dinner. When Noah attempted to put a file down on the dining table, he got smacked on the hand by a wooden spoon.

"No work at the dinner table," Peter spoke firmly and glared.

Sighing, Noah put the file aside. "I'll need you to take a look at this later though. I can't shake it."

While serving the rack of venison he'd made, Peter sighed. "Well, what is it?"

"Car accident. But something about it bothers me. The Tate family, whole family died in the accident, but the body of the older daughter, Malia, was never found," Noah replied.

Peter's face did a strange thing at that. Something mournful but also lost. Stiles narrowed his eyes.

"What did your face just do? What was that?"

Shaking his head, Peter returned his attention to the food. "It's nothing, darling. Just the name."

"What about the name?" Noah asked, voice more gentle.

"My mother's name was Dalia, she named her daughter Talia. Talia and I always talked about it, about naming the firstborn girl among our children something –alia too. Now, Talia never did, she named her firstborn Laura, after our then recently passed aunt. But… she also didn't name her secondborn daughter in such a manner, she named her Cora. I was… I was always partial to the name Malia, it's what I wanted to name my daughter," Peter paused for a moment. "In another world, maybe I would have found someone, settled down, had that daughter, if not for the fire."

Noah reached out and rested a comforting hand on Peter's shoulder. "You're not too old."

"Ah yes, formerly insane serial killer sounds so good on any dating profile, John," Peter snarked.

Noah chuckled fondly. "Invest in a mirror, Hale. You don't need a dating profile to find someone."

"The aforementioned killings and the werewolf still pose a potential problem," Peter pointed out. "Anyway, what about that case bothers you? It sounds tragic, but not supernatural."

"The car was sliced up. Claw-marks. But they were… deep," Noah furrowed his brows. "I don't know, it just doesn't sit right. Why was one of the kids missing?"

"You're thinking werewolf," Peter raised his eyebrows. "Do I have an alibi?"

"It happened eight years ago. So before the fire," Noah raised his eyes. "Unless you went on murder sprees before the coma and used to chase cars…"

Peter made an offended noise at the dog joke. "I did not. I only ever took out threats to our pack, before. A family, with two children? Children aren't a threat. I would never."

His eyes were hard and he was defensive, until Noah patted his arm. "I know, wolf. Calm down."

And he did. Peter actually calmed down. Stiles stared at them with his mouth wide open until he shoved food into it. Was his dad Peter's anchor? Wait. Did that… Was that… Stiles was having an absolute internal meltdown here.

/break\

Derek was bent over the papers spread out on the desk in his office. He was planning a meeting with Alpha Ito. Now that the Hale Pack was more secure, established, he wanted to reach out to former allies and renew treaties his mother had forged. He was interrupted by the door being ripped open and his mate stomping in. Furrowing his brows, Derek sniffed subtly. Stiles smelt distressed.

"What's wrong, Little Red?" Derek asked softly.

He pushed off the desk and went over to Stiles. Stiles groaned and buried his face in Derek's chest.

"I think your uncle is courting my dad," Stiles declared. "Actually. I think they are mates."

Derek stilled, staring down at Stiles in surprise. "What. Why would you think that."

Pushing off enough to look up at Derek, Stiles glared. ""Because he has been hunting and bringing my dad the meat. And cooking it too. He has space in our house. I think he might have moved in without me noticing but I am unsure about that one. My dad calms him down, anchors him."

Huh. Derek had no idea what to do with that, if he was being honest. He just stared at his mate for another moment and, in lack of anything to say, pulled Stiles into a kiss. It did work to relax the Spark. Stiles sighed into their kiss and wrapped his arms around Derek's neck.

"Wha—at are you working on?" Stiles asked curiously when they parted.

"Alpha Ito replied," Derek furrowed his brows. "I haven't heard back from the others."

"You will," Stiles gently patted Derek's chest like this wasn't a problem at all. "You're a good Alpha now, Sourwolf, and you have a badass pack at your side."

Derek took Stiles' hand and lifted it up so he could kiss the palm. "Allies will go a long way."

There had always been five packs in Beacon County, as far as Derek remembered anyway. He also remembered the last Alpha summit and he wasn't so sure if he wanted something like that. Too many Alphas in one place could be problematic. So he wanted to visit their territories individually and meet them one by one. Satomi Ito was the first to respond and though reluctant, she had extended an invitation to him for this weekend. Deucalion Blackwood, Kali Kreul and Ennis Dunham hadn't answered yet, though Derek hoped that Peter could convince Alpha Dunham since they used to be friends and that the Hale name carried enough weight with Alpha Blackwood.

"There was an Alpha summit once, when I was fifteen," Derek whispered softly. "About a year before the fire. It… didn't go well. The Argents were there at the time."

Stiles made a soft, curious noise and relaxed against Derek, urging the Alpha on to continue. "A member of Alpha Dunham's pack was killed. I… I had a girlfriend, at the time. Paige. And I convinced myself that she needed to be turned for us to be together. He gave her the bite. But it never… It didn't take. She… died, in my arms. That's… why my eyes were blue, before I became an Alpha. Because I killed her, to end her suffering."

He couldn't look at Stiles as he admitted this. In many regards, Stiles reminded him of Paige. The warm, brown eyes, the moles and the way both could act so completely unimpressed by Derek and put him in his place. Perhaps he had a type. He drew Stiles closer and buried his nose in Stiles' hair.

"I'm sorry," Stiles whispered softly. "That… must have been hard."

Derek hummed softly in agreement. He didn't like talking about this. But Stiles had told him about his mother and he knew Stiles hated talking about that, about the bad. So Stiles deserved Derek's harsh, painful truths just as much. Especially since these negotiations with the other packs were going to drag up the past and he didn't want Stiles to go in blind.

"Alpha Blackwood had wanted to negotiate peace with the Argents back then," Derek continued softly. "But my mother and Deaton advised him against it. He went ahead anyway."

Stiles' fingers curled tightly into Derek's shirt. "What did Gerard do."

"Tried to kill the pack. But my mom didn't let her friend go in blind. She didn't trust Gerard, so her and the other Alphas and their Left Hands stayed close by, just in case. When Gerard attacked, they were in time to help," Derek replied. "There were some losses, but the majority of Deucalion's pack survived and he grew more cautious after, but he never gave up hope that there could be peace."

Stiles rested his cheek against Derek's shoulder and sighed. "Sounds like a lot of baggage. You want me to come with you to meet Alpha Ito?"

"No," Derek smiled and kissed the top of Stiles' head. "You said you and Scott wanted to go to this birthday party of your friend Heather's. I'll take Boyd and Peter. I want you to have some fun, you've been putting so much work into this pack already, and this is an informal meeting."

Peter had resumed his role as the Hale Pack's Left Hand and he even seemed to accept Derek as his Alpha. And lately, Derek had been taking Boyd under his wing, teaching him what Derek remembered of the duties of a Right Hand and giving him all the books on the role that he could find in their library. Peter had voiced interest in taking an apprentice, considering that traditionally, training would start at sixteen. Derek had asked who Peter had in mind and when Peter told him he'd chosen Erica, well, Derek had to admit that she wasn't a bad choice for the role.

"Okay, if you say so, Alpha," Stiles leaned up to peck Derek's lips. "I'll be having fun at a party while you do boring negotiations. I can live with that. I'm actually really looking forward to seeing Heather again. We used to be thick as thieves in middle school, but then we attended different high schools, and then supernatural happened and, well."

Derek knew what Stiles meant. The chaos that had started in the middle of Stiles' sophomore year didn't exactly leave much room for socializing. But right now, things were calm, the pack was settled, Stiles' dad knew the truth, Scott and even Allison had officially joined the pack. It was the right time for Stiles to reach out to his friend and experience some normal teenage fun.

/break\

Stiles stood numbly in the morgue, staring at Heather's lifeless body. This wasn't supposed to happen. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. He reached a shaky finger out to the mark around her neck but couldn't bring himself to touch it.

Nothing had gone as planned. He thought he would reconnect with Heather, bond. But then she'd kissed him, told him she didn't want to be a seventeen year old virgin and he had to politely reject her and tell her that he had a boyfriend. She'd been so embarrassed, she had asked him to leave her alone. So he had. He'd spent the rest of the night with Scott and others he remembered from middle school, not daring to seek Heather out again because he felt bad enough for her already. He knew he would have been horribly embarrassed too, after all.

And the next day, his dad pulled him out of class and told him he was the last person who'd seen Heather. That she'd been missing since her birthday. And then Lydia and Stiles found a body, because Lydia had, for reasons she couldn't name, ended up at the pool at night.

Melissa had called him to the morgue to show him something. That two people had been killed the same way. A three-fold death. Strangulated, exsanguinated and to top it off, a blunt force trauma to the head. Stiles had been all investigative mind until she showed him the second victim. Heather.

"Stiles," Derek's voice was soft and his grip was gentle as he took Stiles' wrist.

Stiles' hand had still been hovering above his dead friend, until Derek took it and pulled Stiles away, turned them so the Alpha was between Stiles and the body. Stiles blinked up at Derek with empty eyes. His mate looked back with concern before pulling him into a tight hug.

"She's dead," Stiles whispered, voice shallow. "She was my friend. And now she's… dead."

"Come on, Little Red," Derek whispered. "Let's get you out of here."

Stiles didn't really register much after that, until he found himself curled together on his bed, with Derek wrapped around him, holding him close. Death was one thing, but when it happened to someone you knew. He curled tighter against Derek and let his mate comfort him for now.

/break\

It had been suggested by both Stiles' father and his mate that he should seek counseling about Heather's death. Stiles was absolutely not a fan of the Noah and Derek team-up, because that was a force he found himself powerless against. So he sat in front of his French teacher with a glower.

"We can speak openly, you know," Miss Morrell offered him a smile.

"Openly?" Stiles feigned confusion and obliviousness. "About my friend's death?"

Miss Morrell leaned back some. "Not just about her, Emissary Stilinski."

Stiles noted the near mischievous sparkle in her eyes. He tilted his head curiously.

"I think you have me at a disadvantage," Stiles drawled warily.

"I'm the Emissary of Alpha Deucalion Blackwood. You can call me Marin, Stiles."

"Deucalion," Stiles whispered in surprise. "That's the Alpha of Silver Lake. Wait. Why are you here if your Alpha lives a two hour drive from here…?"

Marin looked thoughtful for a moment, like she was considering how to say the next part. "Deucalion has always been fond of the Hales. Laura's return and consequent death drew… attention. He sent me to investigate what is going on here."

"You're spying on Derek," Stiles' eyes narrowed and flashed teal in his anger.

That caused her to tense in surprise. "...Spark Stilinski, then. I wasn't aware of that. But no, Stiles, I am not spying on Derek. I was sent to see what was going on here, who was Alpha. And after it became apparent that Derek was Alpha, and that his pack is so… young. Not just as a pack, but the members of it, and what… trauma you kids have been through, he suggested I extend my stay."

Stiles scrutinized her for a long moment before he deemed her words truth. "So you're an olive branch now, then. That means Alpha Blackwood is open to a treaty with our pack?"

"As I said, he has a fondness for the Hales," Marin smiled amused, before she turned serious again. "I heard from Deucalion that the Alpha Mate was the Emissary, but after we spoke, when Matt died, I assumed you were… a witch. I didn't consider that there was a new Spark in Beacon County."

"Yeah, we are not advertising that just yet," Stiles wiggled his nose. "I'm sure that falls under doctor-patient confidentiality. Derek wanted to ensure treaties first before telling anyone about me."

"Because he doesn't want Alphas to only swear loyalty to him to get to you," Marin nodded. "He is concerned for his mate, and for the validity of any treaties made."

Stiles nodded and gnawed at his thumbnail. "So, will you tell your Alpha?"

With soft eyes did Marin shake her head. "I'm a Druid, Stiles. I have a duty beyond my pack to uphold balance. You? You are a force of nature that, if angered, will tip that balance."

"So what, Druids answer to Sparks?" Stiles raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

"In a sense," Marin drawled. "There is a reason the Nemeton is a sacred place to Druids. It is your tree, but we worship it. We are duty-bound to the Nemeton's chosen Spark."

Stiles hummed softly and nodded slowly at that. "Okay. Thank you. I am… still getting the hang of this whole magic stuff, you know? I want to be in control before we officially host the packs, and the other Emissaries, and introduce me as the Spark of Beacon County."

"A very wise decision," Marin smiled a little. "Now, I believe you aren't here to talk about any of that though. How about we talk about your friend, Heather?"

Stiles slumped a little in his seat and heaved a defeated sigh before he started talking.

/break\

Heather and the guy from the pool didn't stay the only victims and with a victim circle of three people, Stiles was starting to form a concrete theory. A girl, Emily, had been abducted from her camping trip with her girlfriend. The girlfriend confirmed Stiles' theory in a very awkward conversation where she told Stiles that Emily had been a virgin. All three victims had been virgins.

"I'll need you to talk to Lydia," Stiles sighed, hating that he had to make this request.

Peter opposite him raised his head. "Wasn't one of your demands that I stay away from her?"

The two of them were currently researching virgin sacrifices and specifically the killing methods used in the three deaths. But Stiles knew there was more than just this matter at hand that was a problem. Lydia had found one of the bodies. Looking up at the wolf, Stiles sighed.

"Whatever you did when you bit her gave her the ability to resurrect you, it made her… sensitive to death," Stiles glowered. "She found a body. She woke up with a headache and just walked out to get pain meds and instead ended up at the pool. She called me because she freaked out about it."

"Ah," Peter didn't look surprised and Stiles kind of wanted to punch him.

"More words, Zombiewolf," Stiles threw an eraser at Peter's head.

"She's a banshee," Peter replied simply. "I'm not an expert myself, but I can point her into the right directions. If you really want me to be in the same room as her."

"You have been… well-behaved," Stiles narrowed his eyes. "I'll talk to her about it."

Peter hummed and returned his attention to his book. "So, how are you keeping yourself safe from this threat, dear?"

Stiles stilled and then glared fiercely at him. "That is none of your business, Creeperwolf!"

He threw a pillow at Peter for good measure. Though he was surprised to see something like genuine concern on the wolf's face. Huh. Did Peter Hale actually care about his safety and well-being? Pouting, Stiles crossed his arms.

"I have been taking werewolf bodyguards basically everywhere I go," Stiles admitted reluctantly.

"You know there would be a much easier method to protect you from becoming a virgin sacrifice, right?" Peter gave him a look. "I'm sure my nephew would be delighted to help you."

Stiles' face went red and he threw another pillow at the wolf. And this was the guy his dad was secretly dating? Urgh. At least Stiles had better taste in Hale men than his dad!

/break\

Derek blinked repeatedly at the sight on his bed. Stiles, sitting in the middle of the bed, wearing nothing but his red hoodie, his hands pulling the front of the hoodie down to cover himself. There was a blush on his face and his heart was racing nervously.

"Isaac is staying at the Boyds' this weekend," Stiles blurted out and then bit his lip.

Somehow, his face turned even more red. "And you are… staying this weekend here?"

"If you'll… have me," Stiles ducked his head, so clearly nervous.

Heaving a sigh, Derek approached the bed and cupped Stiles' cheek. "If I've made you feel pressured in any way, I'm sorry."

"Huh?" Stiles stared at him with those pretty doe-eyes of his.

"You are tense and nervous," Derek frowned. "When we do have sex, I want you to be relaxed and happy. And not feel pressured by whatever signals I might have given you."

"Oh," Stiles blinked. "No. Dude. That's just so not happening. You absolutely did not make me feel pressured in any way, if anything makes me feel pressured to lose my virginity, it's whoever is currently sacrificing virgins. But even that doesn't mean I don't want this. Tense and nervous will be a part of this deal however long we wait? Like, it's my first time and I'm me and you're you."

Derek's frown deepened. "I don't know what to do with that."

"I am an overthinker, of course do I fret about my first time. And you, you had your first time with the sociopath who killed your family, so I am just wildly guessing that there's gonna be more trauma to uncover there," Stiles replied, motioning between them. "In no reality is this going to be a relaxed time. Not the first time around. We can work our way up there, through, you know, repeated action, but we won't start out there."

Sighing, Derek leaned back. He hated when Stiles made sense about these things. He'd had relationships in New York. But not many and none of them deep. Letting someone close made him feel vulnerable. And Stiles was right, he would have to get through that first time before he would be able to settle and feel comfortable.

"If it's any consultation, I have been told by pretty much everyone that the first time usually sucks," Stiles offered dryly. "Lydia said that Jackson had no idea what he was doing. Jackson said that Lydia actually bit him during their first blowjob. And Boyd's grandma walked in on him and Erica."

"Please stop talking about our pack having sex. Because that definitely is a mood killer."

"So there is a mood?" Stiles perked up a little, looking hopeful.

Derek huffed, but he rested a hand on Stiles' thigh. His mate's skin was so soft and he couldn't help but chase the moles on display, gently connecting them with his thumb.

"I want you, Stiles. I want you a lot," Derek whispered softly. "Why do you think I opened this conversation by not wanting to pressure you? Because I want you and it's sometimes hard to rein the wolf in when all it wants is to cover you in my scent, mark you up, inside and out, claim you…"

Stiles' scent sweetened as arousal overshadowed the nervousness. "Okay. I like the sound of that."

Derek regarded his mate for another moment before he pulled his own shirt off. Stiles' scent sweetened even more, Derek could practically taste the honey on his tongue as he discarded his shirt. Stiles was staring at him open-mouthed.

"Will never tire of this view," Stiles muttered softly.

Chuckling to himself, Derek unbuttoned his pants and then, very slowly, pushed them down. There was a cute, desperate noise coming from his mate once Derek stood before him all naked. Stiles bit his lip, smelling nervous again and fidgeting with the sleeves of his hoodie. Stepping up to his mate, Derek gently took the hem of the hoodie and pulled it over Stiles' head. Stiles' blush reached nearly down to his naval when he found himself fully naked on the bed.

"Hey," Derek cupped Stiles' cheek to make him look up at him. "You're beautiful and I love you."

Somehow, Stiles' blush got even worse at that, but the sharp scent of his nervousness dissipated. Stiles pulled him into a slow kiss, pulling Derek down with him until the Alpha was sitting between his legs. Slowly, Stiles leaned back on the bed until he was laying on his back, Derek kneeling above him. When their kiss broke, Derek's breath caught in his throat at how beautiful Stiles was, naked in his bed, all flushed and wide-eyed, his lips kissed red and shiny with spit.

"Well, someone is happy to see me," Stiles joked.

When Derek looked down, he noticed that his semi-hard cock was pressing against Stiles' thigh. "Well, you do look very good naked in my bed."

Stiles huffed and slapped him on the chest, a small smile on his lips. Relaxed Stiles was definitely preferred to the nervous mess before. Derek pecked his lips gently once more before he reached for his nightstand and got a bottle of lube out. Instantly did Stiles' heartrate spike again.

"I want us to take it slow. I want this to be good for you," Derek whispered, trailing kisses down Stiles' throat and chest. "I want to take you apart and out of your head."

"Good luck with that," Stiles snorted. "Being in my head is kind of my thi—ooh."

The snark broke off in favor of a drawn-out moan when Derek sucked one of Stiles' nipples into his mouth and gentled it with his teeth. Keening softly, Stiles arched his back, his fingers tangling up in Derek's hair. When Derek bit down ever so slightly, Stiles gave a broken whimper and bucked up with his hips, rubbing his own already hard cock against Derek's thigh. Smirking, Derek adjusted them, lifting Stiles' hips up a little and placing him so he was properly laying pressed against Derek's leg. The Alpha moved on to tease Stiles' other nipple with his mouth, catching it between his teeth and tugging on it until Stiles was whining and rutting against him.

"Der," Stiles gasped out while rubbing against Derek's thigh. "Der, don't tease."

"But you're so pretty like this," Derek whispered, licking over the nipple. "Look at you, I play a little with your nipples and you're already that desperate. That's beautiful."

Stiles flushed furiously and tried to hide his face behind his arms, but Derek caught his wrists and pinned them on either side of Stiles' head. The Spark's pupils blew and his scent spiked in interest. Smirking amused, Derek leaned down to capture his lips in another hungry, deep kiss.

"Don't ever hide from me, Stiles," Derek whispered, a gentle order.

"O… Okay," Stiles gasped when Derek bit his throat. "Fuck, Der."

Derek gently licked a stripe up Stiles' throat, enjoying the taste and the feeling. "I'm going to open you up now so you'll be all nice and ready for my cock."

"Fuck, Der," Stiles repeated with more emphasis.

"I'm gonna let go of your wrists now," Derek nosed Stiles' cheek. "Will you be good for me and not try to hide from me again? I want to see you face, I want to see how much you want this, want me, I want to see how much pleasure I'm bring you. I want to see you."

Stiles bushed furiously at his words but nodded and when Derek let go of him, Stiles' hands remained next to his head just where Derek had pinned them. Smiling, Derek pecked Stiles' lips one last time before he turned his attention to the lube. He generously coated his fingers in it and then sat back to get access to Stiles. The Spark readily spread his legs more and Derek couldn't resist the urge to lick a stripe up Stiles' hard cock. It earned him a string of surprised curses from Stiles.

"You know this isn't just your first time, right," Derek whispered softly. "I've never done something like this with a guy before either. I had some… not very serious relationships with girls and I made out with some guys, but you are my first guy too."

Stiles looked extraordinarily pleased with that. "Okay. Cool. We'll, uh, get this right, together."

Derek nodded at that. He was careful and slow as he eased one finger into Stiles, surprised by just how tight it was, how much he had to wriggle to get it in. Stiles squirmed at it and Derek rested his free hand on Stiles' belly to pin him and too ease him. For a moment, he considered what he could do to make Stiles relax and then his eyes fell back onto Stiles' cock. He licked at the head, wrinkling his nose a little at the salty taste, but then wrapped his lips around it.

"Oh hell yeah," Stiles gasped and tried to buck up.

Derek was glad he had his hand on Stiles' belly because he did not want to choke on his mate's cock. He'd received blowjobs in the past but never given one, so this was very exploratory for him. He licked at it, carefully took more into his mouth before pulling back and generally tried to mimic everything he'd found enjoyable himself in the past. This was definitely harder than he'd thought though. His gag reflex kicked in sooner than expected and watching out for his teeth was a struggle, especially since his own building arousal made his gums itch to drop his fangs – and that seemed very counterproductive for a blowjob.

He could feel Stiles relax around him, until Derek felt comfortable adding a second finger. Stiles hissed softly, but Derek could quickly distract him by nibbling on the vein on the underside of his cock. As promised did Derek take his time, teasing and tasting Stiles while thoroughly fingering him until his hole was soft and open.

"How do you feel, Red?" Derek asked softly.

"Like my brain is leaking out of my cock," Stiles groaned in frustration. "But you won't let it leak all the way out. I didn't know you were such a tease."

Derek snorted amused and sat up. He'd stopped, repeatedly, whenever he could feel Stiles' orgasm building up. Pulling out of Stiles, he wiped his fingers on the sheets and then lubed up his cock.

"I'm gonna make you come with my mouth at one point, but today," Derek whispered darkly. "Today, I want you to come on my dick."

"Fuck, you can't just say shit like that," Stiles groaned and tilted his head back.

Derek just blinked at him, a little confused. "Why? It's what I want to do."

"You," Stiles started with a half-glare before giving up and shaking his head. "Just fuck me."

Derek hummed, more than happy to follow that order. He couldn't put into words how much he wanted Stiles, but he had been so afraid to make his mate feel pressured so he hadn't brought it up yet. With a gentle but firm grab did he take Stiles' thighs and part them, lifting his legs over Derek's shoulders. For a last time did he search Stiles' face for doubt, discomfort or anything else that looked like he wasn't ready for it. Instead, he was met with adoration and hunger. Stiles grabbed his face and pulled him into a kiss, his tongue licking into Derek's mouth with near despair. Spurred on by the kiss, Derek eased his way into the tight heat of his mate.

He started moving, shallow and slow. Dragging his cock out of Stiles before pushing back in, until the Spark beneath him was whining and rolling his hips in a desperate attempt to hurry Derek along. Derek did not let himself be hurried.

"You feel so good, Red," Derek groaned kissing along Stiles' jawline. "Made for me."

Stiles gave a soft whine at that, dragging his nails over Derek's back like he was trying to pull Derek closer when closer wasn't physically possible. The way Stiles' hole was gripping Derek really did feel like heaven, he could imagine staying inside Stiles forever, enjoying this close connection, this feeling. However, his mate was quickly growing impatient. His nails scratched, his whines pitched and his cock leaked.

"You wanna come for me, Red?" Derek asked lowly, wrapping his fingers around Stiles' shaft.

The noise Stiles made was incoherent but eager. He latched onto Derek's neck, biting, sucking, honestly Derek shouldn't be surprised, he knew about his mate's oral fixation. This was what all of Stiles' pencils must feel like. Chuckling fondly, Derek started jerking his desperate mate off until Stiles came apart by the seams, spilling into his hand and going beautifully lax beneath Derek. He tightened around Derek rhythmically, like his body was begging Derek to come too. And that was a plea Derek definitely couldn't deny. With a groan did Derek come deep inside Stiles, making his mate. He was gasping breathlessly as he collapsed next to Stiles on the bed, looking at Stiles' cum all over his own stomach. Marked by his Spark. Grinning pleased, Derek wrapped an arm around Stiles' shoulders and drew him in close. Stiles happily obliged and snuggled up to it.

"They were all wrong," Stiles declared, drowsy from his orgasm. "This was awesome."

Derek huffed fondly and pressed a kiss to Stiles' temple. "Yeah, it was."

/break\

Stiles was having a study session with what he had dubbed the trinity of the Hale Pack's future. Boyd was learning how to be a Right Hand, Erica had officially been asked by Peter if she wanted to be his apprentice to be the future Left Hand of the pack, and Stiles was still studying up on how to be an Emissary. However, while Erica had Peter and Boyd had Derek and Peter (because Derek had barely learned anything about being a Right Hand before the fire, while Peter at least had the life experience, had seen Right Hands and what they did, had worked with his sister-in-law Fiona, together, as Talia's Left and Right Hand), Stiles had nobody.

Scotty, bless his sweet soul, had suggested that Stiles could study under Deaton. Deaton had smiled and the glimmer in his eyes had given Stiles the creeps so no, thank you. He much rather fought his way through the tomes of the Hale Vault all on his own and taught himself the trade.

Since all three positions made up the Alpha's counsel, the three teens had agreed to study up together. Sometimes, their duties overlapped, or interacted, and it was interesting to hear the others' perspective on it. To give each other feedback. Also, Stiles acted as a buffer to stop Boyd and Erica from making out the entire time, or getting lost in each other's eyes. They might be his favorite couple among the pack, but he still did not need to watch all that.

Right now, Boyd was sitting on the couch, with Erica sprawled out over his lap, arms crossed on the other side and reading a book, while Boyd had the book he was reading spread open on top of Erica's back, his fingers absentmindedly playing with her curls. Disgustingly cute.

"So, you and Derek finally fucked, huh?"

Stiles doubled over and then turned to glare at Erica. "Why in the world would you say that."

"We can smell it," Boyd sighed. "Derek didn't even try to wash off your scent."

"He was parading it around all proud and gloaty," Erica snickered. "But also, you stopped being anxious about getting sacrificed."

Stiles' cheeks darkened. "Yeah. I, uh. Yeah. We did."

"Good for you, Batman," Erica nudged him with her foot.

Boyd just hummed in agreement and lifted an arm in invitation. Stiles huffed and leaned into him, putting his book down on Erica's thighs as she adjusted to spread her legs over his lap. A small smile tugged on his lips at how cozy this moment was. The basement had been the second most traumatic thing Stiles had ever endured, but the friendship it had forged between him, Boyd and Erica? Worth it.

/break\

There was something missing in Peter's mind. It was like an empty space in a shelf and when he looked at it, he thought that had always been empty, but if he looked closer, he could see a vague imprint on the dust on the shelf that indicated something must have been there. He just couldn't recall what it was. It was eating away at him, his mind kept circling back on it, ever since Noah had brought up the name Malia.

Maybe that was why he sank his teeth into that case in particular and ended up alone in the woods with Noah, chasing after a coyote. Not a normal coyote either. When Peter growled at her, after she tried to attack Noah, she flashed her eyes blue at him.

"That's not a regular wild animal, is it," Noah whispered lowly, staying behind Peter.

"No, that's a shifter, stuck in full shift," Peter kept himself between the sheriff and the shifter.

"Full shift. That hasn't come up yet. Wait, can you do that too? Can you turn into a full wolf?"

Peter pursed his lips just a little. It was endearing how similar Noah and Stiles were in so many way. They could both be distracted with an interesting mystery and with new information.

"All born shifters are capable of it, it's just harder to learn for some," Peter replied vaguely. "Right now, we need someone who can help her return to her human skin."

"Her? And how do you know she's stuck?" Noah asked, looking between Peter and the coyote.

"Scent," Peter replied clipped, taking a step back as the coyote took a step forward and growled. "Smells like a female. And stuck because she hasn't fully matured. She's still young."

He left it at that, wanting to see Noah come to the same conclusion as he had, on his own. Noah's breath hitched and he reached out to grab Peter's arm with one hand, while lowering his gun with the other. A pleased smirk spread over Peter's lips.

"That's Malia," Noah whispered. "What do we do? How do we… How do we help her?"

"I assume you have your son-in-law's number," Peter drawled dryly. "Call him here."

"I would prefer if you didn't call him that, but yes, I have Derek's number."

Noah heaved a sigh and then called Derek and told him to hurry. Now all they had to do was wait. Peter stood tense, not letting the coyote out of his eyes. He wasn't going to risk his human. They were so easily breakable.

"Are we just going to stand here and quietly stare at her until Derek gets here…?"

"Unless you have another idea, I am all ears, John."

Noah huffed and shoved Peter lightly. "You know Stiles gave me a bunch of books on werewolves after he told me the truth."

"That's nice," Peter nodded, unsure where this was headed.

"Pack dynamics, hierarchy, bonds. Behavior, both instinctual as well as cultural."

Peter tensed minutely, sensing where this was headed but unwilling to give. "Very nice of him."

"Don't play dumb, Hale, it doesn't suit you," Noah huffed annoyed. "I know you've been courting me. Leaving all that food – the home-cooked meals, the fresh hunts, the baked goods – and keeping the house clean. You weren't just doing me a favor because I'm overworked, you've been marking your territory. Using your laundry detergent, buying new pillows and blankets for the living room, carving a space out in the house. You claimed my house as your territory."

Peter could admit that he had expected Noah to catch on with the courting advances. Food was a normal courting method among humans too, after all. He had, somewhat, hoped Noah wouldn't catch on with what Peter had been doing with the house though. He was glad he was facing the coyote and not the sheriff, because he could feel his cheeks warming in embarrassment.

"In my defense, it started off unintentional," Peter muttered beneath his breath. "I was coming over so much to teach Stiles about magic and then to also help you sort through your unsolved cases, at one point my wolf started to think of the house as den and started behaving accordingly."

Peter stubbornly refused to turn toward the man behind him. Not just to keep his eyes on the potentially dangerous coyote – blue eyes of a killer, stuck alone in full-shift for eight years now so most likely feral, perhaps there was nothing left of the girl she once was. Noah shoved him lightly.

"You coulda just asked me out like a normal person, Peter."

Again, Peter tensed. "I… wasn't sure how you'd react to that…"

"So what was your plan? Slowly, sneakily move into the house until all your stuff was in it and you just stopped leaving, and then hoping me and Stiles wouldn't notice?"

"Well, if you say it like that, it sounds immature and stupid," Peter groused.

He got a snort from Noah, sounding both amused and exasperated. "You know, it's somewhat funny. You have a domestic streak, and yet you are in dire need of being domesticated."

Peter made and indignant sound and couldn't resist turning around to glare at Noah at that. The look on Noah's face was pure fondness and Peter was struck speechless at it, because he'd seen that look before. That was the look Noah had reserved for Claudia. The feeling overwhelming Peter in that moment choked him up and all he could do was blink helplessly at the man. What had Peter done to deserve being looked at like that, by a man like that…?

Before Peter has a chance to react either way does he get tackled from behind. Him and Noah went down as the growling coyote landed on top of them. Peter groaned at the claws in his back.

"You are so grounded, young lady," Peter hissed, even as he rolled over.

He flashed his eyes at her and growled, but she just snarled back. Noah had the mind to scramble as far away as he could, before a loud roar ripped through the night. The next moment, Derek and Stiles joined them in the clearing, Derek in beta-shift and with his eyes ablaze. Stiles immediately found his dad on the ground and stumbled toward him, heart racing in anxiety.

"Your father is fine, Stiles," Peter assured him, not looking away from Malia.

"He better be! How is it I get into trouble for trying to find half a dead body in the woods at night, but it's okay for you guys to have weird midnight dates of hunting feral coyotes!"

"This isn't a date, Stiles, we are investigating," Noah ground out.

"Sure, sure, call it whatever you want," Stiles huffed while patting his dad down to see if he was injured. "I'm not gonna give you a hard time about keeping the relationship from me, I didn't immediately tell you about my Hale either."

"We aren't in a relationship, Stiles," Noah sighed. "And stop fussing, I just fell down. Peter is the one who got scratched up by Malia."

"What do you mean not in a relationship? Are you telling me Peter moved in but you still aren't dating? That's ridiculous," Stiles sounded genuinely offended. "Wait, what do you mean by Malia?"

"See, I told you that your approach was ridiculous, Peter," Noah sighed.

"Can we focus on the werecoyote," Peter requested.

"Please," Derek agreed, sounding mildly desperate. "What's going on here?"

"This is Malia. She has been stuck in full-shift for about eight years. We'll need your Alpha command to draw her out of it. Roar, assert your dominance. Let her know who the Alpha is."

Peter sat down more relaxed, now that Derek put himself between them and the coyote. Within moments did Peter find himself at the receiving end of not just one Stilinski's fussing but two. He rolled his eyes annoyed, even as a warmth spread in him.

"So he isn't your secret boyfriend?" Stiles whispered, trying not to distract Derek from his task.

"He is not," Noah sighed, again. "But if he'd actually ask me out like a normal person, he could be my not secret boyfriend. Partner. I'm too old to have a boyfriend."

"He's like ten years younger than you. He is your boyfriend," Stiles sounded smug now. "Which, for the record, is a bigger age gap than Derek and I have."

"You are a menace, kiddo," Noah pointed out exasperated. "Peter, are you sure about this courting thing? Because this one is part of the deal."

He pointed at Stiles at 'this one' and Peter couldn't help the fondness that overcame he. There was no way he could properly articulate how much he wanted this, all of it, the whole family. He'd been fond of Stiles from the get-go, the reminder of Claudia so strong, but the more he got to know the brat, the fonder he grew of Stiles for all the differences. He had his mother's mischief, that much was for sure, but Stiles had edges where Claudia used to be soft. He had a ruthlessness that was becoming of any young wolf. The magic lessons Peter taught Stiles that ended with all three of them around the dinner table after Noah got home were the highlights of Peter's week.

"As touching as that is, what do we do with the naked girl?"

Peter, Noah and Stiles turned toward Derek. In front of him sat a teenager, about Stiles' age, her hair messy and her eyes wild, a snarl still on her face. Peter slowly approached her, flashing his eyes. Letting her know she wasn't alone. Not just that he was a shifter, but that he had the same eyes as her. Slowly, he took off his jacket and laid it around her.

"Hello, Malia," Peter smiled. "I'm Peter. This is Derek, my nephew and Alpha. You're alright. You're going to be alright. You're with pack now."

/break\

So virgins were not the only targets. The latest abduction was the owner of one of Scott's patients and, as it turned out, a not-quite-friend of Boyd's. A guy named Kyle whom Boyd knew from ROTC. Not a virgin, according to Boyd who had walked in on him and his girlfriend once.

It was time they got to the bottom of this. Which meant Stiles had to do the uncomfortable part. Getting Lydia and Peter into the same room without anyone (Peter) ending up dead. Stiles had grown fond of him, especially now that he was dating Stiles' dad. He'd much rather not see Peter die again. Jackson and Allison were a glowering presence, him with his arms crossed and her holding a definitely not legal cattle prod in her hand, putting themselves between Lydia and Peter at all times. Stiles was getting a headache. Though he did appreciate that Lydia's mate and best friend had her back, he also knew that Peter liked to play up the asshole if he had an audience.

"Behave yourself, or I swear to god, I'll tell my dad," Stiles hissed at Peter.

Peter narrowed his eyes and turned to glare at Stiles. "That is very low, even for you."

"What are we doing here?" Jackson asked, one protective and possessive arm around Lydia's waist now as they sat in the living room. "And why does it smell so much like him here?"

Oh. Right. Werewolf. Jackson's already triggered protector-instincts were probably in high gear because Peter had made this whole place smell like him by practically never leaving (both Peter and Noah claimed that Peter was not actually living here. Stiles remained doubtful).

"He teaches me magic, mostly here, because here is where I've been gathering my ingredients and my stuff that I need for it so I won't have to always borrow his," Stiles rolled his eyes. "Also he's been helping my dad with his cases. He's been very useful since he returned."

"And you think he'll be useful with this too?" Allison asked doubtfully.

Stiles sighed, first looking at Allison and Jackson, and then settling on Lydia. "You find dead bodies now, but not even on purpose. I can only imagine how distressing that is. We already had three victims, all virgins. But this latest one missing isn't a virgin. Dad, Peter and I are in agreement that they might be sacrificed in sets of three, which implies at the very least three circles of three sacrifices. Which makes it nine dead people that you might stumble across without meaning to."

Lydia's lips were thin-pressed line and she had her hand on top of Jackson's around her waist, holding onto him like an anchor. Which was a cute touch, Stiles guessed they all tended to do that. Humans mated to werewolves. They started to copy their mates' behaviors.

"It's either stumble across them after the fact without meaning to," Stiles continues. "Or learn what you are, what you can do, how to control it – and maybe get there before some of them die."

Lydia leaned more into Jackson, but raised her chin as she turned toward Peter. "Fine. Teach me."

A small, pleasant smile spread over Peter's lips. The man could look so charming and so innocent. It made Stiles want to kick him in the shin. He resisted the impulse, because it'd just make Jackson and Allison feel validated in their own violent impulses in regards to Peter.

/break\

Stiles was grinning softly as he watched Derek throw Scott and Isaac around. They were training, but honestly it looked more like puppies playing. The two betas were teaming up against their Alpha and still Derek kept besting them. That was hot. That was unreasonably hot.

"If you aren't too busy leering at my nephew, would you have a moment, Stiles?"

Stiles wrinkled his nose and turned toward Peter. "Sure. What's up, Stepwolf?"

Now it was Peter's turn to wrinkle his nose. "What in the world did you just call me?"

"Stepwolf. You know, what with me calling being mates 'werewolf married', and you and dad being mates, that makes you, like my stepdad. But I am just not getting the dad-vibes from you. So Stepwolf," Stiles shrugged and got up. "But since I am also your nephew's mate, does that make you uncle Stepwolf? Very incestuous."

Derek crashed onto the ground as Isaac and Scott managed to overwhelm him. Stiles was fairly sure that was his fault, so he shot his mate an apologetic grin that was met with a distressed glower. Lifting his hands up in surrender, Stiles headed into the house, followed by Peter.

"All of that aside," and Peter heaved a very deep sigh at that. "I need your… help."

"That physically hurt you to say, didn't it?" Stiles quipped. "If it's about wooing my dad, absolutely not. I am not getting involved in that. You are on your own."

"Oh, I am perfectly capable of wooing your father on my own," Peter sounded downright offended at the implication that he might need help with that. "No, I… seem to have a magical problem and my own capabilities aren't enough to solve it."

Huh. Peter was actually asking for help. Nodding slowly, Stiles led the way upstairs to his own bedroom. He didn't really use it as a bedroom, because he preferred to crawl into Derek's bed, but he'd been putting a lot of his magic stuff there lately – quite frankly, at this point, he had too much of it to keep at home, his bedroom was crammed and his dad had complained about the cauldron in the kitchen. Considering all the shiny old magic books were in the library of the Hale House anyway, he'd decided to turn his bedroom into his magic study instead and had roped all the betas into helping him move his magic stuff from home to the Hale House.

"What do you need, Peter?" Stiles asked once his bedroom door closed behind them.

The silencing runes he'd carved into all bedroom doors had been a huge blessing. There were things that the mated pairs among their pack did that nobody else needed to hear. Peter looked… near nervous. A strange look on the man who always knew to put on a front.

"I'm fairly sure I am missing memories. The feeling has been nagging me for a few weeks now, but it… it has gotten worse since we found Malia in the woods," Peter admitted. "I don't know why, but something about her… Her name alone, it made me remember something that felt faded and like wading through fog."

"Okay," Stiles kept his voice gentle, which was not his default, especially not when talking with fellow sarcastic asshole Peter Hale. "You want me to… perform a memory retrieval ritual."

Peter looked up in surprise at that. "That is far beyond what we have been doing so far, I was going to suggest that I will lead you through it. How do you even know abo… Oh."

The smile on Stiles' lips was thin and sad. He didn't need to answer the half question. Peter remembered what Claudia had been like during her final months too. Peter knew that frontotemporal dementia was genetic and could be passed on from a parent to a child. Stiles walked over to his closet, where he was now storing ingredients, and got everything out for the ritual. While he was setting everything up, silence stretched between them.

"How afraid are you of having it too?" Peter asked in an impossibly gentle voice.

Stiles avoided looking at him as he started the prep. "More than I'm willing to admit."

Silence fell again while Stiles worked. Once he was done with everything, he instructed Peter to sit down and drink the quite frankly disgusting brew he'd just made. Stiles coated his hands with it and grabbed Peter's face, pressing his fingers against Peter's temples. He closed his eyes to whisper the incantation in Polish.

One of his favorite things about unnatural magic was that it didn't require Latin. Pompous old-fashioned human magic-users liked to use Latin for showiness, but magic spells and rituals worked in any language used. So Stiles had made Polish his magic language.

Stiles' eyes flew open and he could feel his magic flow through him, like electricity in his veins and he knew his eyes were aflame with the fire of his magic, could tell by the wide-eyed expression on Peter's face. There was a faint glow coming from Stiles' skin, somewhere between green and blue, not the distinct teal of his magic but like it was changing between the colors, like an aurora borealis.

The paste he made with natural ingredients and the words he spoke should have been enough to perform this ritual. But whatever had been done to Peter hadn't been done with unnatural magic. It had been done with natural magic. That was… concerning. So now the spell was syphoning Stiles' magic to work against whatever was going on.

"I can raise her on my own."

The sudden voice echoing through the room startled Stiles and when he looked around, he realized they weren't in his room anymore. Everything was tinted blue and teal and green in different shades, the room looked vaguely familiar and it took Stiles a moment to realize that they were in the old Hale House's living room. Before them stood Talia and a teenager. The teenager was holding a little bundle in a blanket and the blanket, in this memory, was glowing bright green. Like it was trying to draw attention. Peter had gotten off the floor and was staring wide-eyed at the people.

"That's you, isn't it?" Stiles asked softly.

After all, it was Peter's memory. Both Stiles and Peter slowly approached Talia and the younger Peter. Talia heaved a sigh and rested a hand in her brother's neck.

"You're barely eighteen, Peter," Talia said. "You have responsibilities to this pack, as my Left Hand. Between those and law school, how would you find the time to raise a baby on your own?"

"The same way our parents managed to raise you. And they were younger than me when they had you," young Peter raised his eyes to glare at Talia. "Malia is my daughter. I will not abandon her!"

Talia furrowed her brows. "You named the baby. Peter, this isn't a good idea. You don't know what it was like to be the neglected child of a teen pregnancy. And Corinne isn't going to allow this either, she will come for the child. It would be better for everyone if she grew up somewhere else."

"You are not taking my daughter from me," young Peter growled, slipping into beta shift.

The hand on his neck moved and Talia sank her claws into Peter's neck until he went lax in his grip. "I am. It's the best for the child, for you and for our pack. One day, you'll understand."

Both Stiles and Peter stood close enough that they could see the baby as Talia took her from his father and as young Peter's conscience faded out, the memory dispersed like mist, until Peter and Stiles were standing in Stiles' bedroom again. There was a horrified look on Peter's face.

"You have a daughter," Stiles whispered stunned. "A feral werecoyote daughter. Holy shit. Wait. Where is Malia? What happened with her after we found her?"

Peter was staring distractedly out the window, not looking fully there. Okay. Not a helpful Stepwolf, then. Hold on, did that make Malia his stepsister? Nope. Not thinking about that right now. Stiles gently pushed Peter down onto the bed to sit before he'd keel over and then got out his phone.

"He—ey, daddio," Stiles put as much cheer into his voice as humanly possible. "Say, whatever happened to Malia? When we found her in the woods?"

"Malia?" Noah sounded confused. "Well, her entire family is dead and she spent eight years living in the woods. I think they sent her to Eichen House, to get treatment for her trauma, while looking for a legal guardian for her. Right now, she is… a bundle of the state."

"Well, good news on that front. I just found her legal guardian. Staring right at him," Stiles looked carefully at the blank face Peter made. "Also, congrats dad, you just became a stepdad."

"…Stiles, what are you talking about?"

"You should discuss this with your wolf. Whom I would ask you to pick up, because I don't trust him to drive right now," Stiles waved a hand in front of Peter's face. "I'm pretty sure Peter could use his anchor right about now."

/break\

"A kid," Derek stared wide-eyed at his mate. "Peter has a child?"

"Yu—up," Stiles climbed into Derek's lap and got comfortable.

He'd thought it suspicious when Peter asked Stiles for a favor. He had not been prepared for the bombshell Stiles dropped when Derek, Isaac and Scott returned to the house. The only other members of the pack who had been at the house at the time were Allison and Boyd, who'd joined them in the living room. Allison was standing behind the couch, her arms around Scott's neck and her chin on his head as she looked curiously at Derek opposite them. Isaac and Boyd were on either side of Scott, the three wolves also staring at Derek.

Derek had no idea how to react to any of this. His uncle was a father – he had a cousin. And his mother had taken the memories of that child from Peter and given her up for adoption? Family? Pack? Just… abandoned like that. Lead settled in his stomach.

"That's where Laura got it from," Derek muttered sardonically. "Mom taught her how to be an Alpha. Cutting out and abandoning pack… runs in the family."

But how had it been Peter who suffered both times? That didn't seem fair. Yes, Derek still had very complicated feelings in regards to his uncle, still was angry about Laura's death and may never forgive losing his sister, especially not after how much family they had already lost. But Derek also understood the abandonment, knew the theory of being a feral wolf.

Stiles nuzzled into his neck. "Try not to focus on that bit, Sourwolf. Try focusing on the fact that you now have more family who is still alive. You may not know her yet, but we'll get to know her. Well, uh, once dad and Peter get the legal stuff sorted out."

The sheriff had dropped by and picked Peter up, after Stiles had explained the situation to them. There had been anger and determination in Noah's eyes as he promised to get to the bottom of this. The sheriff and Peter really had become mates. Knowing what the matebond felt like and how much the support of a mate meant, Derek was glad for his uncle.

"Does that mean she'll join the pack?" Isaac asked curiously.

"Well, that depends on if she wants to join the pack, I think," Stiles tilted his head. "Right now, she's in a mental hospital. Because she just spent eight years 'living in the woods'… as a feral coyote… after losing her entire family. Though I do think her dad will be much more help in coping with both of those than this human institution will be."

Derek stilled a little at the reminder that Malia and Peter had suffered in very similar ways. He wrapped his arms around Stiles' waist, hugging his mate closer to comfort himself.

"I'm sure we'll be able to help her settle in," Allison offered. "Everyone's been… really great at helping me feel like pack, and I'm human."

Derek regarded her, watching the way she near hid her face in Scott's hair after speaking. Both of them had struggled with integrating into the pack, had alienated themselves from the pack before the summer. But the summer spent isolated and only with each other had made the mated pair realize that they couldn't do it alone and that they didn't want to lose the friends they had.

"We'll do our best," Derek offered after a long beat. "Boyd, Stiles, I want you to break the news to the rest of the pack. I'll… check in on Peter."

"Got it, Alpha," Boyd nodded, a serious look on his face.

He took his new role as Right Hand very seriously and was working hard on understanding what it meant. But Derek had known he was born for this since the rave, when the two of them had defended the rest of the pack against the Argents, while Stiles led the other betas inside in tracking down the kanima. Boyd was a reliable second-in-command and his calm nature made him a good adviser to talk about strategy and ideas with.

/break\

"He—ey, Lyds. How are we feeling? Are we all good?"

Stiles kept his voice very light and friendly as he approached Lydia and Danny in the music room. Danny had called him, worried about Lydia. Telling him that she was sitting in the music room, spacing out and drawing. When Stiles sat down next to her, he looked at her drawing.

"I did it again, didn't I?" Lydia groaned frustrated and put her pencil down.

"At least you didn't find a dead body this time?" Danny offered, patting her on the back.

Stiles shot Danny a pointed look, but Danny shrugged in return and honestly, fair. Learning new powers was a work in progress, just because Lydia now knew what she was and could read up on it and practice didn't make her an instant expert.

"There was a tree in Erica's math homework," Stiles frowned. "Did you also draw on Erica's math homework? Have… you been drawing a lot of trees lately?"

Lydia blinked a few times. "Maybe. I was helping her with it the other day. I just, I've been… doodling trees for a while. It doesn't mean anything, or at least I didn't think it meant anything. Now, being not where I am supposed to be and having spaced out again, maybe it does…"

She flipped through her notebook to show Stiles and Danny the other drawings. They stared in surprise and Stiles was the first one to realize they weren't just trees. They were the same tree over and over again. He bit his lips and got his phone out.

"You're drawing a tree and I know exactly which one. It's my tree. That's the Nemeton."

Over the past months, he had been to the Nemeton a couple of times, to get acquainted. Peter called it the magic beacon that gave the county its name. If the Nemeton kept calling to Lydia, that seemed like a cry for help. Something was wrong with Stiles' Nemeton.

"That's… not good, is it?" Danny frowned concerned.

"Not at all, Dannyboy," Stiles heaved a sigh. "Okay, we… Lydia? Where are you…"

Lydia got up and walked over to the piano. When Danny and Stiles followed her, she pressed play on a phone that just stood conveniently propped up against the piano and absolutely mortifying chanting started to blare from it. Well, this was getting creepier by the minute.

"Why is there no class today?" Lydia asked. "There should be a teacher."

"I don't know, he didn't show up," Danny shrugged.

"A missing teacher," Stiles frowned. "Does he happen to have anything in common with Kyle?"

"He was in the military," Lydia pointed out, showing them the phone's background of a man in full formal uniform, hugging a smiling woman. "Kyle was in ROTC."

"Warriors," Stiles and Lydia said at the same time.

During one of the many sessions of Peter teaching Lydia about her powers, the three of them had also worked on solving the sacrifices. They had a list of potential victim pools. People who tended to make really great sacrifices. And warriors were among them.

"Harris," Lydia suddenly spoke wide-eyed. "Harris was in the military too."

Danny and Stiles exchanged a glance before they ran off together with Lydia. When they reached Harris' classroom, the man wasn't there. Not in a 'class is over' way though. Coffee was still on the table, papers were scattered over the table.

"Man, who does he hate enough to grade them an R?" Stiles wondered. "Not even I got that yet."

"There is an H too," Danny pointed out, showing another paper.

They rearranged the graded papers until the word DARACH was staring back at them. It scratched something in the back of Stiles' brain, but he couldn't fully remember. He'd absorbed so much knowledge about the supernatural in recent months that it all swam together. Getting his phone out, he dialed Peter's number and waited anxiously for the wolf to pick up.

"What's a Darach again?" Stiles asked before Peter had a chance to say hello.

"I was going to complain that I don't have time for this because your father and I are very busy fighting with the people at Eichen House," Peter sounded like he was scowling. "But I gather you had a break in our case. A Darach is a corrupt Druid. A Druid is a wise oak, someone in balance with nature, especially forests. They are neutral, which makes them well suited Emissary most of the time. But a Darach is a dark oak, a Druid who acts for selfish gain and breaks the laws of nature. You think a Darach is making the sacrifices?"

"Well," Stiles blinked owlishly down at the papers. "Two teachers with military background just went missing, one left behind druidic chanting, the other literally wrote out Darach in his notes. Also Lydia's been drawing my Nemeton and that's inherently linked to druidic practices."

"Fuck," Peter muttered beneath his breath on the other end. "Okay, where are you kids?"

"We young adults are at the school," Stiles scolded. "Don't go all Stepwolf on me."

"Noah and I are tied up here, I would hate to leave… Can you call Derek to pick you up?"

Stiles rolled his eyes at Peter. "Yeah, I'll call my boyfriend to come pick us up in case the evil Druid who has been kidnapping military folks might decide to change course to teen geniuses. In which case they would be getting a full set of three in one room. Okay. Good luck with your daughter."

Danny and Lydia exchanged amused and fond looks at that, while Stiles hung up so he could instead call their Alpha to pick them up. Clearly the Darach had already left, but hey, what did worried werewolves care about logic?

/break\

Peter knew Eichen House by reputation alone. And it was not a good reputation. Knowing that his daughter had been sent there had distressed him ever since he learned. He couldn't imagine being there himself, but she was still so young and so disconnected from the human world.

Noah slipped his hand into Peter's to give it a gentle squeeze, drawing the wolf's attention. Taking a deep breath, Peter calmed down just a fraction. His mate had been a tremendous help in moving all of this along. The DNA test confirmed that Peter was Malia's father, with some strings pulled by the sheriff, the paperwork got moved along and once he had legal guardianship over Malia, he could get her out of Eichen House. They were waiting for her release.

"So you're my… father," Malia furrowed her brows as she looked Peter up and down.

"She got the Hale eyebrows," Noah muttered beneath his breath.

"I am your father," Peter looked at her with soft eyes and pointedly ignored his mate. "I didn't know about you. I hope… you had a good life, with your adopted family. Before…"

"Before they died," Malia's expression darkened.

Noah heaved a sigh and opened the car door for her. "C'mon, kiddo. Time to go home."

"I don't have a home," Malia snarled. "And who are you?"

"Apparently, your stepfather," Noah declared dryly. "And you do have a home. With us."

Peter's heart fluttered a little at that last word and Malia shot him a dubious look at it. Well, he wasn't going to explain his new relationship to his new daughter. So much change in such a short time. But Peter did appreciate that Noah had suggested Malia stay at the Stilinskis'. You are practically living here already anyway, Peter, and it'll do the girl who spent years as a coyote some good to live among actual humans, you know. Peter couldn't exactly argue that point. And considering the state she was in, mentally, he would prefer a little more supervision than just himself. He wasn't going to comment on the fact that he more or less had moved in with them. Or how much it excited him that he got to officially move in with them. Was invited to move in.

"Your son called," Peter noted when Noah started the car. "Apparently, he figured out who has been doing the human sacrifices. A dark Druid, a Darach."

"Human sacrifices," Malia repeated disturbed.

Peter turned to look at her. "Yes. This town has… some problems. And we're usually the ones taking care of them, if we're not the ones causing them."

"Most of the time, it's a combination of both," Noah muttered.

It didn't appease Malia much and Peter couldn't fault her for it. "The Hales, our family, has protected this town since its founding. We're a family of shifters. A pack of werewolves. You are… You can be a part of that pack, if you want to."

He was amazed by how put together she was, but then she was a coyote. Not a wolf. While they could be part of a pack, they didn't need it the way a wolf did. If she took more after Peter instead of Corinne, the eight years of isolation would have driven her mad. Instead, she was just a little… wild. Peter could deal with a little wild. She just needed to be reacquainted with human society.

"Do we have any theories on this Darach?" Noah asked with a dark look on his face.

"The most obvious choice comes to mind," Peter drawled dryly. "But there are multiple Druids in Beacon County and a wise man told me to not let personal feelings color my investigations."

The dark look on Noah's face turned into an amused smile at that. "That's right."

Still, Peter's personal bet was on Deaton. A Darach was a Druid who had strayed from their way of balance. How much farther could one stray from balance than by letting their own pack die? And then abandoning those who still lived? He had still been in Beacon Hills, even when Laura and Derek left. He could have been there for Peter. But he chose not to, even when Peter was barely fifteen minutes away and needed help, needed healing.

/break\

"I am telling you, it's Deaton. It has to be Deaton," Stiles declared.

"Stiles," Scott whined and made a frustrated face. "He's my mentor. And he's been helping us."

Stiles raised both his eyebrows. "When it is convenient for him, sure. But other than that? Like, he knew Laura was back – he was the one who had called her to Beacon Hills. Knew she was an Alpha, full well knew who must have killed her, but he still let you and me stumble about for months trying to guess who the Alpha was. He could have warned us from the get-go."

That one, Scott couldn't argue against, so the look on his face turned more kicked puppy. Isaac on Scott's other side nudged him slightly in comfort. Boyd on Stiles' other side just heaved a sigh. Which was fair, Stiles and Scott had been at it for like ten minutes now. The only ones not really paying attention to them were Jackson and Danny in the row in front of them on the right. The six teens were on a bus together, off to a Cross Country meet. There had been disgusting displays of affection between Boyd and Erica, as well as Scott and Allison, before the bus drove off. Lydia had just distractedly pecked Jackson's cheek and wished them fun, her mind already on her own weekend project: Integrating Malia into the pack via bonding with the girls.

(Stiles had his own disgusting displays of affection in the morning, when Derek had climbed into his bedroom through the window to kiss him until Stiles was dizzy and then sneakily stole Stiles' hoodie, thinking Stiles hadn't noticed. Stiles had noticed and would proceed to be very smug about the fact that his werewolf stole comfort clothes to have Stiles' scent when Stiles was gone for just a weekend. Cute, dorky Sourwolf. Nobody would believe him.)

"I'm right with this," Stiles muttered beneath his breath, annoyed. "I'm the one who figured out that Kate laid the fire. I'm the one who figured out Peter was the feral Alpha. I knew Matt was shady."

"We aren't doubting you, Stiles," Boyd nudged him gently. "But Scott does have a point in that Deaton has been helping us. We wouldn't have been able to subdue and interrogate the kanima without his help. And he patched… most of us… up at one point by now."

Stiles watched the way Jackson tensed at the mention of the kanima. The subject was… sore didn't even begin to cover it. Sure, his parents were getting him counseling but that only went so far. At least their counselor was not just a bored teacher but a mental health professional and also in the know about the supernatural. Stiles had to admit he was wary about it at first, but the more he talked to her about Heather, the more settled he felt and he knew that she had been helping Lydia and Allison too – the agreement with Allison that she talk to someone about her mom and the brainwashing from grandpa. Stiles had also very gently herded Isaac into her office too.

"And there are other Druids in town," Scott repeated pointedly. "Like Missus Morrell. She came here under false pretenses and had sessions with all of us without disclosing what she was. She was basically spying on our pack. Who's to say she didn't do that to set all of this up."

Stiles ground his teeth together at that. He hated when Scott was making sense. Still, Stiles' gut told him that it was Deaton. He had never trusted that guy, even less so after the reveal that he used to be Talia's Emissary. How had this man just so fully neglected Derek when Derek was a freshly turned Alpha? Even if not committing to being Derek's Emissary, how did he have no fondness left for his Alpha's son to help him ease into this role, this legacy? How was that balance?

To keep the peace, they remained quiet until they reached the motel and checked into their rooms. The pack paired up, Stiles and Scott, Boyd and Isaac, Jackson and Danny. It was supposed to be a normal school activity for a change. But of course did their pack not get normal school activities.

"This is freakish and not normal, Stiles," Danny muttered with furrowed brows.

He'd gone downstairs to get more towels, because Jackson was such a diva he required three towels per shower. Stiles had no idea what he even did with the third towel. When getting the towels while Jackson was under the shower, Danny had noticed a suicide counter at the reception. When he told Stiles about that, the two of them did some investigating and found newspaper articles tucked into the pages of the Bibles in the rooms. Articles about the suicides that had happened in each room. And when Stiles went downstairs to check the counter himself, it had gone up, according to Danny. When Danny had been there, it had been at 198, when Stiles went, it was at 201.

"This is the Darach," Stiles muttered beneath his breath.

Maybe the others were right. Maybe it wasn't Deaton. Maybe one of their classmates – their teammates – was a Druid without the pack realizing. Druids didn't have special scent like shifter did, so the werewolves wouldn't be any wiser. Stiles ground his teeth together.

"Why? We're not exactly, what did you and Peter find out about the groups?" Danny tilted his head. "Virgins, warriors, philosophers, guardians, or healers?"

"Either they added a sixth circle of teen wolves, or we are getting uncomfortably close and they're trying to distract us and tear us apart," Stiles heaved a sigh. "Either way, I should call Der and dad so they can come and pick us up with the cars."

"Good pla-" Danny cut himself off when there was the sound of a power tool next door.

The two boys exchanged a worried look before bolting out. Next door was apparently in the middle of being renovated. And between it all stood Jackson, holding a handheld electric saw a little too close to his own chest for anybody's comfort. Stiles' eyes widened and he lunged at his beta.

"Woah there, Jacks, come on, you're too pretty to ruin that by cutting bits off, right?" Stiles joked nervously while trying to wrestle the saw from the wolf. "What are you doing?"

"It's still there," Jackson growled, eyes glowing blue. "The kanima is still there, I saw it in the mirror, after my shower. Scales. There is still some of it in me. I have to cut it out."

Oh, fuck. Okay. Magic suicide motel came with hallucinations. Great. Realistically speaking, Stiles knew he stood no chance against a wolf. But he was the Alpha Mate. Jackson was his beta. He was not going to give up and let Jackson kill himself. They stumbled around and Jackson fell against the space heater. The moment he hit it, he seemed to jolt out of it.

"What…" Jackson blinked confused, while Danny quickly took the saw from him.

"You okay, idiot?" Danny asked concerned. "Don't scare me like that, man."

"I don't… I don't know what happened," Jackson frowned. "I didn't mean to, I…"

"Yeah, this place is cursed," Stiles motioned around and then winced because he'd definitely hit his shoulder there in the wrestle. "We should… We need to get the others. We need to get our pack out of here and then I'll call Derek so he can pick us up."

He scrambled off the floor and made his way to Boyd and Isaac's room. At first glance, there was nobody there, but then he noticed through the open bathroom door that something was going on there. He froze in the doorway when he saw Boyd in the bathtub with a giant save on his chest.

"Fuck," Stiles took a stumbling step back.

How was he supposed to help with that? He felt panic rise in him. Magic. He had magic. He was a Spark. The elements answered to him. He'd made water float before. He could drain the tub, even with Boyd in it, laying under a giant safe. His friend was drowning and Stiles was uselessly standing next to it, the panic in his chest causing his magic to fizz out. Danny gently pulled Stiles aside and Jackson rushed over, beta-shifted as he struggled to lift the safe. Right. Right, Stiles wasn't alone. He had his pack. He didn't have to do everything alone. The panic eased with that knowledge and when Boyd and Jackson started fighting with each other, Stiles let his eyes glow and removed the water from the tub, just to be safe. Now they just needed Boyd to snap out of it.

"Okay, okay, okay, what made Jacks snap out of it?" Stiles whispered aloud.

"I don't know," Jackson growled, physically trying to hold Boyd back, who was still trying to harm himself. "But figure it out quicker, Stilinski. I have never managed to win against Boyd in a fight."

Right. Right. Okay. Jackson had stumbled and fallen before coming to it again. No, he hadn't just fallen. He'd stumbled into the space heater, he'd flinched away from the burn. Either pain or heat, then. Probably to be safe both. Stiles' eyes shone bright as he summed a flame into his hand and reached out to press it against Boyd's back. The beta howled and arched back before slumping over on top of Jackson, mushing the other wolf onto the floor.

"You doing magic will never stop being badass," Danny muttered beneath his breath.

"Yeah, yeah, I am awesome, now let's find Isaac," Stiles huffed a little flustered.

"While you guys were busy in the bathroom, I did that," Danny waved Stiles over to the bed. "He's hiding under it and keeps mumbling something."

"Awesome. I'll take care of Iz, you go and check on Boyd and Jacks?"

Danny nodded and headed into the bathroom while Stiles carefully crawled under the bed. He lit a small flame between his fingers by snapping them, partially to see Isaac in the dark. Once he located the other boy, he reached out with his hand and pressed the flame against Isaac's arm. He winced and was overcome with guilt at the pained whine.

"I'm sorry, pup," Stiles gave an apologetic look. "Don't want you to hurt yourself."

Once Isaac looked at him with recognition, Stiles sighed and crawled out again. Okay, three down, one more to go. Here was to praying that Scotty didn't get into trouble without him. Chances were high, usually, Stiles was right there at Scott's side when the other got into trouble. He rushed back to his and Scott's bedroom, but found it empty. When he left again and wandered the halls, Boyd, Danny, Jackson and Isaac caught up with him.

"Can't find Scott," Stiles declared with a displeased frown. "Any wolf noses up to help here?"

The three wolves started sniffing the air and, in the end, led the way out of the hotel room and to the parking lot. Stiles froze when he saw Scott standing there, dripping wet in a puddle, an empty canister of gasoline next to him and a road-flare from the bus in his hand.

"S… Scotty," Stiles' voice wavered. "What are you doing there, buddy?"

He stretched out an arm when Isaac wanted to bolt forward, to stop Stiles. Stiles put himself between his other four betas and Scott, fixing the other four with a glare.

"You're staying back," Stiles put as much Alpha Mate authority into his voice as he could. "Boyd, I need you to call Derek. Tell him what happened here. Tell him to come pick us up. And stay back."

Especially Boyd didn't look happy with that, but the Right Hand knew to listen to the Alpha Mate. Stiles squared up and approached Scott slowly, stepping into the gasoline. His heart-rate picked up.

"It's all my fault, Stiles," Scott looked at him like a kicked puppy. "My dad left because of me. And so long I only had you and then I pushed you away again and I know we're getting closer again, but it's not how it used to be and you have all these people you care more about now and it's my fault that we grew apart and maybe it would be better if I was just… gone."

Stiles' heart stumbled and he approached Scott. "No. Nope. Not true. Your dad left because he was a bag of dicks and your mom finally kicked him out. That was good. That was for the best of both of you. And it was not your fault. And us…"

Stiles wavered a little, unsure how to say this and be honest. "You're right that you put a distance between us. But you have also been working hard to make up for it. We've done movie nights, you let me rant about Derek, even the TMI stuff you do not want to hear. I saw you tell Allison you didn't have time for her because you had plans with me. You fucked up, but you learned from it. Fucking up is human nature. We've all done it before. The important thing is what we do next. And you did everything right. Because you're good. You're a good friend."

"You got kidnapped and tortured because of me," Scott argued, looking desperate.

That had Stiles swallow hard. "Yeah. I sure did. And you got bitten by a feral Alpha because of me. We're brothers, Scott. Sometimes, we get each other into trouble. Sometimes, we will hurt each other. But what's important is that we're there for each other."

Finally, he reached Scott and he reached out to take the road-flare from Scott. "We're there for each other. You are my brother. And if you want to kill yourself? You'll have to kill me too. Is that something you're willing to do, Scotty?"

His breathing was even and he held Scott's gaze. The moment Scott let go of the road-flare, Stiles tossed it. It rolled away and Stiles sagged in relief. Until the wind picked up in the opposite direction and it rolled back into the gasoline. The betas at the sideline were yelling, Isaac bolting forward like he was trying to reach them, just as the flare ignited the gasoline. Stiles raised his hand, eyes glowing, and the fire froze, unmoving. When Stiles curled his fingers inward to ball a fist, the fire extinguished. It would have been a risk to do that if Scott set himself on fire and Stiles was glad that he'd been able to deescalate this situation before.

"Okay," Stiles heaved a sigh. "We are all heading to our rooms to pack up, Scott's gonna take the most thorough shower ever and you guys will meet us in our room."

"Derek is on his way," Boyd confirmed. "And so is your dad."

Good. The cruiser could easily break the speeding limits with some sirens and pretending he was going to a crime scene. Stiles nodded pleased and led the way back inside. He started packing up his and Scott's things while Scott showered and he felt himself relax a little more once the other four betas joined him in the bedroom and crammed on the beds.

"That was reckless," Boyd noted darkly. "That could have backfired."

Stiles grinned just a little at the wolf's concern and leaned into him. "Eh. I got that. Scott wouldn't hurt me, not intentionally, not like that. Not even under whatever influences are at play here."

"Derek is going to have an aneurysm when he hears about it though," Isaac quipped.

"Which is why we will not tell him, or my dad, that I stepped into gasoline while Scott was holding a burning road-flare," Stiles countered lightly. "You do not want me on your bad side, pups."

While Danny chuckled amused, the three wolves remained quiet. They knew he could be an absolute menace when he wanted to be. Besides, there really was no point in telling Derek or Noah about all of that. Everything was fine. Nobody had died, everyone was fine. Stiles kept repeating that mantra to himself until he finally saw the Camaro and the cruiser pull into the parking lot, where the pack had been camped out (on the far other side away from the gasoline puddle). Stiles bolted up and ran straight into Derek's arms, colliding against his mate's chest.

"Hey, Little Red," Derek whispered, wrapping his arms around Stiles. "Are you alright?"

"Y… Yeah," Stiles nodded and buried his face in Derek's neck. "I am now."

He felt himself shake. The tension drained from him now that he was in Derek's arms. He'd been strong and composed while he needed to save the betas. But he knew he could let go when he was in Derek's arms like that, knew that his boyfriend always had his back. Derek gently rubbed his back, drawing him even closer. Stiles breathed shakily, trying to calm himself down.

"Okay, kids," Noah sounded gruff. "Three of you come with me, two with Derek. Let's go."

The sheriff herded the betas and helped them load their stuff into the cars. By the time the betas were divided into the cars – Jackson, Danny and Scott in the cruiser, Boyd and Isaac in Derek's. Stiles inhaled Derek's very soothing forest-y scent until he felt grounded enough to push off his mate. As soon as there was some distance between them did Noah pull Stiles into a hug.

"What the hell happened, kiddo?" Noah asked. "You look shaken. Boyd said some stuff on the phone, about the motel being haunted, the pack nearly getting hurt?"

"The hotel's haunted and it made all the wolves try to commit suicide," Stiles mumbled, voice muffled by his father's chest. "I stopped them, I saved them, but… but if I hadn't been fast enough, or strong enough, or convincing enough, I could have… I could have lost them…"

"But you didn't," Derek gently carded his fingers through Stiles' hair. "Because you are the best Alpha Mate any Alpha could ask for. You would never let something happen to our pack."

Stiles leaned back against Derek's chest, heaving a sigh. All the anxiety and stress from the past hours was slowly easing its grip on him. Noah shot him a soft look and then looked at Derek.

"You keep my son safe until we're back home, Hale," Noah made it sound like an order.

"What about the rest of our pack?" Stiles asked, turning to look at Derek.

"The girls are having a sleepover at the Hale House, Peter stayed with them to keep an eye on them," Noah answered with a sigh. "You really will worry about everyone else before yourself."

"I'm keeping Stiles safe," Derek promised and pressed a kiss to the top of Stiles' head. "Let's go home, Red. So our pack will be together, mh? I know that'll help you feel better."

Stiles grinned just a little, because yeah, Derek was right. That would make him feel better. He gave his dad one last hug before climbing into the Camaro together with Derek so they could head home.

/break\

So the next circle of victims were healers. A doctor had been taken while on the way to the hospital. Everyone started freaking out about Melissa and Scott – because though not an actual vet, Scotty still was training to become a healer. So if Kyle from ROTC counted as a warrior, then Scott counted as a healer. Melissa expressed fond exasperation when at least two betas were at the McCall House at all times, bringing her to work, keeping an eye on her there.

"I do appreciate your concerns, Stiles," Marin smiled fondly at Stiles as she entered the Hale House.

"Well, our pack has our own healers covered. You're a doctor. You're a potential target and you are a guest on our territory. As such, we will ensure your safety."

Derek was standing in the doorway with his arms crossed and his eyebrows drawn close, nodding a confirmation. Stiles really thought he had all angles covered, having the betas guard Melissa and Scott, while Marin was staying with Stiles and Derek, but he somehow hadn't accounted for Deaton. In all fairness, that was because Stiles still thought Deaton was the Darach. Stiles was sitting with Marin, talking magic practice, when Scott called. Apparently, Deaton had called him in the middle of getting abducted, which in itself sounded so shady to Stiles.

"I'm not leaving Marin without protection," Stiles frowned as he looked at his mate.

"And I'm not leaving you without protection," Derek countered. "I'm calling Peter to take care of it, I'll tell him to take as many betas as he thinks he needs."

Stiles pursed his lips. The fact that Derek was delegating spoke to the fact that his boyfriend was on Stiles' side in all of this. Didn't fully trust Deaton either. Marin looked from one to the other.

"For what it's worth, I do hope your pack can save my brother."

Right. Because Marin was Deaton's sister. That one was still a bit weird to Stiles. The three of them sat together tensely, waiting for updates from the betas. In the end, while Stiles was cooking pierogi to keep himself busy, it were Stiles' dad and Stepwolf who came with the final news.

"We found and freed Deaton in the abandoned bank," Noah announced. "That map of the ley lines that Danny drew really helped with the search, we split the pack up to cover more spots."

Even as he spoke, he slotted into place next to Stiles and helped him cook. Stiles smiled a little as he looked at his dad. This felt a lot like it used to, back in the day. When they used to cook as a family, Stiles on a stepping stool and trying to help as best as he could.

"Very conveniently was he just tied up, otherwise unharmed and with the Darach nowhere in sight," Peter added dryly while putting on an apron himself. "What can I do, darling?"

Stiles blinked at the wolf and just stared for a moment before giving instructions on what Peter could do to help cooking. It was a little weird how easily Peter slipped in with Stiles and Noah. There was a clench of nostalgia, grief and longing at how much this felt like family.

"You okay, Little Red?" Derek asked softly, nosing his neck.

"Yeah," Stiles offered a weak smile. "Good sad thoughts."

Derek kissed his jaw and hummed in acknowledgment before he went ahead to set the table.

/break\

Stiles lost yet another person he cared about. Tara was dead. Tara used to babysit him. Tara had been a fixture at the station for so many years. Stiles was a little detached while they investigated the philosophers the Darach was targeting. And then their history teacher disappeared. And then the big concert came up and though Stiles wasn't feeling like it, he forced a smile for Danny's sake as the entire pack went to support him. Just to watch someone die on stage.

Derek and Isaac were on patrol with Boyd. The Hale House was currently empty. Stiles figured he could do some more studying of his magic with the house all to himself. It had been coming along so much better since Marin came into his life. Peter had been great teaching him the basics, but at the end of the day, the werewolf wasn't a magic user.

"Hello, Stiles. I think we are overdue to spend some time together."

The words were accompanied with a stinging sensation in Stiles' neck. Stiles' head snapped up at Deaton's voice. He was alone in the house. Stiles instinctively tried gathering his magic, but whatever Deaton had just injected him with had him woozy, slowly fading.

"You have been getting in my way enough," Deaton smiled. "You're the final piece."

/break\

Stiles was gone. He said he'd do some studying while the wolves were on patrol but that he would wait up for Derek. By the time they returned, Stiles was gone. At first, Derek had frowned in disappointment, but then he'd called Stiles to wish him a good night, just to find Stiles' phone in the library. Sometimes, Stiles was messy, but he did not forget his phone. His next call was Peter.

"Dear nephew, I hope this is important. I am in the middle of having quality time with my mate."

"Peter, Derek does not need to know that," Noah sounded embarrassed and annoyed.

Derek gave a low growl. "Stiles is gone. His phone is still here, but he isn't. Is he home yet?"

"No. It's just us. Malia is over at Erica's," there was rustling on the other end. "The Jeep isn't here."

"The Jeep is here," Isaac called out. "It's parked behind the house."

"Give me that phone, wolf," Noah demanded. "Derek. What are you saying. Where is my son."

"I don't know," Derek felt his stress level rise. "I don't know. I don't…"

"I'm calling Boyd and Erica," Isaac said softly. "And the rest of the pack."

Derek jerked out of the rising panic and turned to look at his beta, nodding. He needed to be in control so he could find his mate. Someone had taken Stiles. The Darach. Derek's eyes widened.

"The last group," Derek said desperately. "The last group of victims."

"Guardians," Peter whispered. "The Spark is the ultimate guardian."

The Darach had taken Derek's mate as a sacrifice. The very thing that Stiles had been afraid of back during the first victim circle and Derek had promised to protect him. Now Stiles was gone.

"Gather the pack," Derek barked out. "We're splitting up, covering every ley-line overlap. We won't rest until we find and save Stiles and then I'll rip the Darach's throat out."

/break\

When Stiles came to it, he was tied up, gagged and sprawled out on the stump of his Nemeton. Because of course he was. He turned to glare at Deaton, who was simply smiling at him.

"You know, I took Scott on because I sensed a potential in him. I thought he could be useful for me. And maybe, if you hadn't bound him to the Hale Pack, I could have drawn that potential out," Deaton sighed and reached for a ritual dagger. "But then you, you surprised me. Your magic manifesting. The Spark of Beacon County. All that power, wasted on a teenager."

Oh fuck. Guardians. The Spark was the guardian of the land. Horror overcame him as he realized that he had been right all along, Deaton was the Darach, but he hadn't realized that he was the final victim. How had he not seen this. Deaton smiled condescendingly down at him.

"I took virgins, warriors, philosophers and healers to strengthen myself, so I would have the power to take you. Take your magic. You are the final touch in all of this and once I spill your blood on your Nemeton, I will claim your magic, your power."

Stiles' eyes widened in fear as he tried desperately to summon his magic, but whatever Deaton had injected him with had him so incapacitated and feeling so weak, he couldn't do anything. He was helpless. Closing his eyes tightly, he could feel tears prickling in his eyes. This was it, he was going to die all alone and Deaton would take his magic and – and suddenly something warm splattered over his face. Only when he heard a road did he open his eyes carefully. He swallowed hard at the sight of a wolved out Derek, eyes glowing bright red, a snarl on his face and blood dripping from his clawed fingers. There was a horrified expression on Deaton's face and his throat was missing, before he collapsed forward onto the Nemeton.

"Stiles! Kiddo, are you alright?" Noah called out as the rest of the pack came running over.

Derek wiped the blood off on his pants and then gently removed the gag. "Little Red?"

"Fuck," Stiles gasped and wrapped his arms around Derek's neck. "I thought he was gonna kill me. He would have killed me if you hadn't come. Fuck."

He sobbed out in relief and buried his face in Derek's neck while the Alpha cradled him close. Over Derek's shoulder, Stiles saw the rest of the pack entered the clearing. Scott made a horrified noise and Allison was quick to pull him into her arms and away from his dead mentor. Lydia gasped and turned away too, grabbing Danny's hand. Jackson, Boyd, Erica, Isaac, Peter and even Malia were in beta-shift, ready to fight, to defend their Alpha Mate.

"You're alright, kiddo, we got you," Noah pressed a kiss to the top of Stiles' head.

Stiles took a shaky breath, relaxing between his dad and his mate. He was safe. Because he wasn't alone. He had his pack, his family. He didn't have to do everything himself, he didn't have to save himself, he had people who loved him and were ready to save him when he couldn't.

"What do we do with… this?" Isaac asked, motioning at Deaton.

"I think it's due time I teach Erica what a Left Hand does when the job is done," Peter smiled sharply. "Though our dear Alpha took the work from us in this case."

"He took my mate," Derek growled darkly, hugging Stiles even tighter.

Stiles couldn't help the small smile. "Possessive wolf."

Derek grumbled and gathered him up. Stiles gave a yelp and a weak glare of protest as he got carried out of the clearing. Glancing over Derek's shoulder, Stiles looked at their pack, together. Noah was leaning against Peter for support, while Peter talked to Erica about the plans, Malia slightly behind them, Boyd and Isaac next to her, Jackson, Danny, Lydia, Allison and Scott making up the rear. Their pack was good. Strong, loyal, they understood each other like no one else could.

~*~ The End ~*~

Notes:

Hoooly shit I finished it! Only took me about a year. This concludes the universe that brought me back into Teen Wolf. Can't believe it's been over 150 fics since I posted the first story in this verse a year ago. Thank you all for reading and even more so for commenting! The overwhelming positive feedback on the first Mutual fic was largely to be blamed for my motivation to write more Teen Wolf fics, because it made me feel very welcomed in this fandom!

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