#it's really not the weirdest thing he's found in the woods of beacon hills

[ofmagicandwolves]

{Favorite Tags}  #Accidental Baby Acquisition

“Well, in all honesty, a baby isn’t the weirdest thing I’ve ever found in the woods.”

[maxineswritingcenter]

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 8

So some of the details I’m getting are coming from the Teen Wolf novel On Fire that was published in 2012. It basically gave backstory into some of the characters that we never really see in the show. Like is describes Scott’s father and describes him having an asthma attack. I really recommend it. You can find it online for under 10$ so it’s worth it. 

TW: Mentions of S*xual Abuse

————

After the game ended, everyone else was celebrating. Beacon Hills lacrosse had qualified for the state championships. I played along until I was able to slip away back into the school, seeing as Scott was doing damage control with Allison and Jackson. The players and Coach were long gone, I slipped into the locker room door just as it was closing. 

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and called Stiles’ phone, and to my amazement I heard Stiles' ringtone echoing in the dark.

“Oh thank god.” I sighed in relief, following the ringing, “I was so worried about-” I stopped, the phone slipping from my hands. There Peter stood with Stiles’ arm in his grip. Derek stood in the shadows behind him. 

“Now who is this little thing, nephew?” Peter tilted his head to the side. His face had been healed completely of burns, nothing remained. 

Derek kept his stern expression, not meeting my eyes, “(Y/N) (Y/L/N).” 

Peter hummed, “Really? I haven’t seen you since you were about yea high.” He placed his hand at his chest. 

“Let him go.” I glared at him, not fooling around with his pleasantries. He dropped Stiles' arm. 

“Certainly, at the lady’s request.” He grinned. Without breaking eye contact, I reached forward and grabbed Stiles arm, pulling him behind me. He struggled a little.

“Now is not the time to be the man, get behind me now.” He complied.

“What the hell…?” I heard Scott’s voice ring through the empty locker room.

“Scott, no-” I was cut off by Scott walking around the corner of the dark hall, a towel around his waist. His eyes landed on Derek. 

“Thank God! Where the hell have you been? Do you have any idea what’s been going on?” Our eyes darted towards Peter, and he finally saw him. 

Peter had picked up a crosse, looking over it in his hands, “I really don’t get lacrosse…”

Scott gasped, “It was you.”

“When I was in high school, we played basketball. There’s a real sport. Still, I read somewhere that lacrosse comes from Native American tribes, and that they played it to resolve conflict. Do I have that right?” No one answered, “Hmm… I have a little conflict of my own to resolve, Scott… But I need your help to do it.”

“I’m not helping you kill people.” Scott said firmly.

“Well, I don’t want to kill all of them– just the responsible ones. And that doesn’t have to include…” He looked back towards Derek. 

Derek sighed, “Allison.” 

“You’re on his side? Are you forgetting the part where he killed your sister?” Scott asked, incredulously. Took the words right out of my mouth. 

“It was a mistake…” He said the words, but I wasn’t sure if he even thought they were true. 

“What?” Scott asked, clearly shocked. 

“It happens…” Derek looked away.

“Just a werewolf thing, right?” I glared at him, he continued to find the floor more interesting. 

“I think you’re getting the wrong impression of us. We just really want to help you reach your full potential.” Peter set the crosse down. 

Scott scoffed, “By killing my friends?”

“Sometimes the people closest to you can be the ones holding you back the most.” He glanced towards Stiles and I.

“If they’re holding me back from becoming a psychotic nut-job like you, I’m okay with that.”

“Maybe” He walked up to Scott, I backed away with Stiles, “You could try and see things from my perspective…” He sunk his claws into the back of Scott’s neck. Scott groaned, and fell when Peter pulled his claws out. The alpha looked at me, wiping the blood off on his jeans. 

“You have potential as well. Mark my words, in the next few days you may realize there is more to you, (Y/N).” 

“I’d rather die.” I spat. Stiles grabbed my arm. 

“I guess we’ll just have to see.” Peter nodded to me, then walked out with Derek following behind. 

“Laura would be disgusted.” I glared at him. He paused, looking over his shoulder for a second, but continued on his path out the door. Once they were gone, Stiles pulled Scott by the shoulders and turned on the cold water. He gasped, breathing heavily. 

“Dude, we have a huge problem.” Stiles said. 

“Trust me… I know.”

-

After a confrontation with Jackson, Stiles and I drove home. There we found Uncle Noah at the kitchen table. There were papers and files spread all over and a bottle of whisky with a glass. 

“Whatcha doing?” Stiles asked.

“Work.” He slurred. 

“Anything we can help with?” He asked, so we came around the table to sit across from him. I looked at a paper. It was a report of the interview with Mr. Harris. 

“You know, if you poured me an ounce of whiskey, that would be awfully nice.” Uncle Noah closed his eyes, rubbing his temples. I took the time to take a picture of the statement, hiding my phone back in my pocket before he opened his eyes again. 

“Any leads?” Stiles asked, pouring the whiskey. 

“You know I can’t discuss that with you.” Stiles poured more into the glass, “Not too much!” 

Stiles slid the cup across the table, “Okay. There you go, Dad.”

“Thanks.”

“Bottoms up.” Stiles said, as we watched Uncle Noah down the whiskey.

 “You know, Derek Hale would be a whole hale of a lot-” He slurred and grunted, “Hale of a lot…?” 

“Hell of a lot?” Stiles corrected him 

“Hell… Yes… He would be a hell of a lot easier to catch if we could get an actual picture of him.”

“How do you not have a picture of him?”

“It’s the weirdest thing…” He slurred, “It’s like every time we tried to get a mugshot, it’s like two laser-beams were pointing at the camera.”

“Nice.”

“Oh, my God… Ohhh! God, that ounce hit me like a brick. And I have said way too much, and if you repeat any of that-” He warned, pointing to both of us.

“Dad, it’s us! We’re not gonna say anything. Come on!”

“See, the thing is, they’re all connected… I mean, the bus driver that got killed? He was an insurance investigator assigned to the Hale House Fire.” He pointed towards a paper.

“Terminated under suspicion of fraud.” Stiles read. 

“Exactly.”

“Who else?”

“The video store clerk who got his throat slashed? He’s a convicted felon– history of arson.” That was the attack that involved Jackson and Lydia. 

“What about the other two guys, the guys who got killed in the woods?” The two guys that Stiles saw in the woods when he got drunk with Scott. 

“Priors all over their records, including-”

“Arson. So, maybe they all had something to do with the fire…” Uncle Noah grumbled. Stiles wanted more info, “Another shot?”

“No, no, no. No more.” he slurred. 

“Dad, come on! You work really hard, all right? You deserve it.” It was enabling and wrong to get the sheriff drunk to get information out of him. The dots were all starting to connect. 

“Oh, my God… I’m gonna have such a hangover…”

“You mean you’re gonna have such a good night’s sleep!” He poured another shot for his dad. He looked at me, muttering out of the side of his mouth, “I’m gonna have an eternity in the lowest circle of hell…” I patted Stiles' arm.

“Let me know if he says anything else.” I whispered and came around the table, “Goodnight Uncle Noah.” 

“Goodnight, sweetie.” He called. 

I went into my room and connected my phone to my laptop so I could get a better look at the report. Stealing evidence was a crime, but I was already doing enough illegal things that I figured it would matter too much. I pulled up the picture and enhanced it the best I could. It was a transcription from Uncle Noah’s recorder. 

𝙱𝙴𝙶𝙸𝙽 𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙽𝚂𝙲𝚁𝙸𝙿𝚃 

𝙷𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝚂: 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚒𝚡 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚐𝚘, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎, 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝙸'𝚍 𝚐𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚛. 

 𝚂𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙵𝙵: 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗, 𝙸 𝚑𝚊��𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚗'𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚝�� 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚜, 𝚑𝚞𝚑?

 𝙷𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝚂: 𝙸 𝚖𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚛. 𝚆𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚜. 𝙰 𝚕𝚘𝚝. 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚍𝚘, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜. 𝙳𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎? 𝚃𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚌 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚢…𝙰𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚟𝚊𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛… 

 𝚂𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙵𝙵: 𝙳𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚜. 

 𝙷𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝚂: 𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝙸 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍, 𝙸 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚎𝚍. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚏𝚏. 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚝 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚟𝚊𝚞𝚕𝚝. 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛. 

 𝚂𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙵𝙵: 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚊 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗?

 𝙷𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝚂: 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚔 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙷𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗. 

 𝚂𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙵𝙵: 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐. 

 𝙷𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝚂: 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚎? 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚛. 

 𝚂𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙵𝙵: 𝚂𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖? 

 𝙷𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝚂: 𝙽𝚘. 𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙻𝚊𝚞𝚛𝚊 𝙷𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍. 𝙸'𝚕𝚕 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛. [𝚂𝚎𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 #𝟸0𝟺]

 𝚂𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙵𝙵: 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜? 

 𝙷𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝚂: 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚢𝚖𝚋𝚘𝚕 𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚝. 𝙸 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝. 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎, 𝚜𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚝.

𝙴𝙽𝙳 𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙽𝚂𝙲𝚁𝙸𝙿𝚃

I didn’t need to see the evidence to know what the symbol was. It was the Argent family crest and Kate Argent is the one that burned down Derek’s house. She’s the one that murdered the Hale’s. That’s why she was a touchy subject to him. But there was something else too. 

-

The next day I was out shopping when I saw her. Kate Argent was in the sporting goods department, looking at arrows. She must have sensed me staring so I went back to looking at…lamps. 

“(Y/N)?” She called. Shit. I looked up nonchalantly. 

“Um, yes?”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N)? You remember me right? Swim class?” And that’s what it was. That’s what connected Kate to the school. She was a swim coach. She must have watched Derek from there. 

“Oh right.” I smiled, “I completely forgot. With everything going on it’s been hard to remember.” 

“Right, I heard about your parents.” She gave a sympathetic smile, “I’m so sorry for your loss.” She put a hand to her chest. 

“It’s alright. It seems that there’s a lot of fires in this town, huh?” I smiled, tilting my head to the side. 

Her smile tightened, “Yeah. Unfortunate circumstances.” We both nodded slowly. It seems like we both knew what was really going on here.

“What have you been up to recently?” She asked. 

“Oh I work at the school. I’ve had the pleasure of meeting your niece, Allison. Such a sweet girl.” 

“She is, isn’t she? Kinda like how you used to be. It seems you’ve been associating with Derek Hale. He’s a fugitive, don’t you know?” 

I answered innocently, “I’m quite sure you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Which one? Associating with Derek Hale or that he’s a fugitive.” 

“Ms. Argent, I think you and I both know what a real criminal is. Now I am sure someone was chasing your niece around that school and I wish she hadn’t been in that situation. And I believe we’re assuming that all these killings were committed by someone who enjoys seeing others in pain. Someone manipulative. You had Derek as a student, does that sound like him?” 

Kate chuckled, “I know him a lot better than you do. A lot better.” She left, taking her arrows to the front of the store. 

-

What did she mean by that? How did she know Derek “a lot”? Not like I really wanted to get answers from him since he decided to join his Uncle’s murder parade. Derek was good, he fought for justice for his sister. But now that he’s found her killer, he doesn’t want to hurt him. I guess, I could understand the point that Peter was his only family left. The point that Peter made it so he was the only family left was just too much to ignore for me. I just-…I couldn’t believe that he would do that unless he was trying to trick him somehow.  

I messed with the soup I made for dinner, placing the cover on the pot and letting it simmer. Stiles was running like a bat out of hell. 

“Hey, what’s going on?” I looked out at him. 

He skidded to a stop, “Peter Hale is taking Scott’s mom out on a date, I’m gonna go rear end them.” He took off again. That meant Peter wasn’t around Derek to influence him. Which meant I could talk to him alone. I turned off the stove top and grabbed my keys. 

On the drive there, I felt the terrible feeling again. Something was going to go wrong again. I parked in the spot that we had first parked when I originally got lost in the woods and found my way to the Hale house. It wouldn’t be hard to find it again. I walked for a while and I had finally found it, his Camaro was in front of the house. I was about to step onto the porch when I felt a sharp pain in my back. I inhaled sharply, arching my back. I reached around and pulled out whatever had hit me. I inspected it, it was a tranquilizer dart. Who the hell-…

My vision started to get a little fuzzy, I blinked hard to clear it. Soon, my legs get numb. I fell backwards, landing on the forest floor. I groaned, trying to move but my limbs weren’t responding. Kate Argent kneeled down next to me and smiled. 

“Guess I was right about one thing.” She pulled down a gas mask that had been on the top of her head and threw something through the open window of the house. The last thing I heard was Derek yelling at Scott to run.

-

I was slow to wake up. Whatever had been in that dart knocked me out real good, the effects were still lingering now even as I was waking up. I was back tied in a chair again. If I got out of this situation alive, I was throwing out every chair I owned. 

“There you are, sleeping beauty.” Kate’s voice echoed. She bent over to meet my eyes. I tried to pick my head up, fighting to stay awake. 

“Man, I think I gave you too much. Thought you could handle it.” She lifted my head up. 

“Wha-what did you give me?” I slurred. 

“Wolfsbane. Nothing deadly, just enough to knock you out.” She smiled, dropping my face. Why in the hell did she shoot me with wolfsbane? And why did it work?

“It took me a while, but I finally found your connection in all this. It seems Beacon Hills has two werewolf families.” 

I found the strength in my neck to look up, “What? My…my family aren’t werewolves. I didn’t even know they existed until like two months ago.” I grimaced. 

“Well they aren’t now, silly. How is Michael by the way?” She asked, the door opened behind me, two men walked in - dragging something large behind them. My vision was still fuzzy so I couldn’t tell what it was. 

“Michael?”

“Yeah, he was my little protégé. His family come from a long line of hunters. Just like me. He got too involved with his undercover work though. When we tried to destroy your clan the first time he couldn’t go through with it.” 

“You’re crazier than I thought.” I shook my head. 

“I don’t blame you for being confused. I didn’t know either for the longest time. My brother and your father had a deal of some kind, details. They kept you hidden from your own world.” She pouted dramatically. 

“Listen, lady. You are insane.” I blinked hard, my vision finally clearing. The two men had left, and it turned out the large thing they had been caring for was Derek. They had him chained up, by his hands, leaving him to dangle. He was shirtless and passed out. 

“Hey, what the hell are you doing?” I asked as she walked over to him. She turned back, surprised. 

‘A little protective, are we? You can’t think you can keep him all to yourself, not after our history.” She hummed, running her finger over his chest. What she said hit me like a ton of bricks. That’s why he hated talking about her, why he felt so guilty when she was talking to him about Laura. 

“You sexually abused him.” I gasped, completely mortified. 

“I wouldn’t call it abuse.” 

“The law would. He was sixteen years old. He was just a kid!” She didn’t look the least bit phased, “You’re sick. A sick, sick bitch.” She crossed over to me quickly, slapping me hard across the face. I will admit that it hurt a lot, but the worst pain was that as soon as Kate’s hand connected with her cheek, Derek woke up with a gasp. She turned, a wicked smile on her lips. 

“Oh this just keeps getting better and better.” She smacked me again, sending me back into darkness. 

-

I woke up, not sure how much time had gone by so I could finally get a good look at Derek. There were wires attached to his right side, attached with black electrical and paper tape. He looked in pretty rough shape, worse off than I was. 

“Are you alright?” He asked, still not meeting my eyes. 

“I’m okay.” I nodded, “Derek, I am so sorry for what she did to you.”

His jaw tightened, “She told you.” 

“I thought she got to you just being the swim coach but I could have never imagined… I’m so sorry.” It made sense now why he didn’t want to be close, why he couldn’t be around me in the beginning. She took everything from him under the guise of love. She preyed on a child. He didn’t want to be vulnerable again.

“I can’t imagine how much anger you have. And guilt. None of this was your fault.”

“It was my fault. I was stupid and should have known better.” He glowered. 

“Derek, you were a kid. And she’s a psychotic manipulator who used her charm and good looks to seduce a child. She’s a monster.” 

“I know that. but that doesn't make the guilt any worse. I’m the reason they’re all gone.” His voice trailed off at the end. 

“No, no you’re not. She was manipulating all the people that Peter killed. The bus driver was an insurance investigator assigned to the case and got fired for fraud, Mr. Harris taught her how to make the bomb necessary to start the fire, she hired three guys with priors of arson. That’s why they were on Laura’s list, she figured out all the people helped Kate with the fire. But I guess Peter already told you that.” He stared, processing what I had said. 

“Did he not tell you that?” I narrowed my eyes, “He’s killing people and he didn’t tell you why, just that they were on Laura’s list?” He didn’t answer. 

“Why are you blindly following him? What good reason could he have for killing Laura? If he really wanted to kill those people, why wouldn’t he just work with her? He cut her in half and left her to rot! Left her for you to find!”

“I don’t need you yelling at me about it! I know he killed her and he has no justification for it. He’s crazy! I’m playing into this because if I don’t he’ll go after you!” He shouted, finally looking at me. 

“What?” I mumbled.

“He wants to make a new bloodline. As soon as he builds up a pack, he’s coming for you and-” Derek was cut off by a door opening. And in walked Kate Argent followed by her niece, Allison. Derek had shifted formed when they walked in, all of the anger and rage built up in his system and the change just happened. 

“What is this place?” She asked. 

“Let’s start with the basics– you know how every family has its secrets?” Kate came to me, wrapping a gag around my mouth before I could talk, “Ours is a little different…” She turned the spotlight onto Derek. He roared at her loudly. 

“Isn’t he beautiful?” She mused. Allison took a step back. Kate walked over to the electrical equipment, turning up the dial Derek gritted his teeth, his body became rigid as it went through him. At the same time, my vision clouded. I could feel my body hanging like his, the electricity flowing through my bones. The two only stood there, watching Derek struggle, scream, and writhe. 

“What are you doing to him? Is this going to kill him?” Allison asked, her voice echoing between the room and the vision I was in. 

“Oh, come on, kid. Don’t get all ethical on me now.” Kate leaned against the equipment. 

“What is he?” She looked between Derek and I, “What are they?” Kate finally opened the circuit, cutting off the electric flow. Derek hung there limply, breathing heavily. I was pulled from the vision, gasping for air and feeling all the soreness that came with being electrocuted.

“Her…” Kate hummed, “I’m not sure. But him - shape-shifter. Lycan. Werewolf.” Derek glared at them, his eyes burning bright blue. 

“But to me he’s just another dumb animal.” She flipped the switch again, sending more volts running through him. He screamed through his gritted teeth. I glared, fighting against the visions so I could focus, I could feel the static making my hair stick up. Allison, looking conflicted, looked between Kate and Derek. Kate turned off the volts again. His head hung low, the pain finally knocking him out. I took a deep breath, trying to keep my head straight. 

“Come here,” She brought Allison closer to Derek. Kate grabbed his chin. 

“Get your hands off of him!” I tried to shout around the gag, but it all came out as gibberish. Kate ignored me regardless and forced Derek’s lips open to show his teeth. 

“There are canines. Also known as fangs. Made for tearing and rendering flesh. Not something you find on those cute little leaf eating herbivores, is it?”

Allison shook her head, “Is this a joke to you?”

Kate’s hands dropped from Derek’s face, “Sweetie, there are werewolves running around the world. Everything’s a joke to me. How else do you think I stay sane?” Sanity train left ages ago. 

"So was it him at the high school? And all the other animal attacks?” Allison asked. 

“There’s actually three of them. Another younger one like him,” She motioned to Derek, “Called a beta. And then there’s the alpha. Alpha is the pack leader. Bigger, stronger, nastier. Those are the real ugly motherfu-. ” As she was speaking, I kicked a nearby rock towards her leg 

“Why did you take her if she’s not one of them?” Allison looked at me. Kate nodded and walked over to me, pulling a vial out of her pocket. 

“A very extraordinary thing occurred that I have never actually seen before. You see, she comes from a family of werewolves but is not a werewolf. But somehow they were able to form a mating connection, because as you know animals like him mate for life. He feels her pain, she feels his.” She opened the vial and let a drop fall down onto my pants. The liquid seeped through the fabric onto my leg, causing a red hot burning sensation. I bit down hard on the gag, breathing hard to ignore the pain.  She put the cork back on the vial, walking her and Allison back out of the cellar. 

-

Later on in the day, not sure how many hours went by but Kate was back, rummaging through Derek’s jacket.

“Come on, Derek, he killed your sister.” She pulled out his wallet and took the money that was inside, “Ya know, maybe you’re not telling me because you wanna kill him yourself or for some reason, you’re protecting him.” She dropped the wallet and grabbed his chin so he faced her, she put what looked like his driver’s license up to his face. 

“Awww, look at that sour face.” She pouted and let go of his face, “I bet you’re used to people coming up to you and saying: Smile, Derek. Why don’t you smile more? Don’t you wanna just kick those people in the face?” Derek glanced at me before looking back at Kate. 

“I can think of one.”

“Promise?” She smiled, an amused look on her face, “Cause if I thought you’d be that much fun, I’d let you go.” She continued to rifle through his wallet, “Nothing, nothing, nothing. God, I hate this detective crap.”

“Are you gonna torture me or are you just gonna bore me to death, huh?” He was getting more and more irritated. 

“Oh sweetie. I don’t wanna torture you.” She said sweetly, “I just wanna catch up. Remember all the fun we had together?" 

“Or the time you burned my family alive?” He growled, “Working with another set of psychos to do the same to another family?”

"Ya know? I was thinking more about the hot, crazy sex we had. But the fire thing, that was fun too.” She played with his emotions, the same way she had done before. Derek jerked forward towards her. She didn’t flinch.

“I love how much you hate me. Remember how this felt?” Kate bent down to the hem of Derek’s pants. I struggled against the chair, agitating the burn on my leg, but I needed to help him. Kate’s tongue snaked out and ran over Derek’s abdomen. Derek roared at her, his fangs sharp. 

“Sweetheart, I really don’t want to torture you.” Kate said as the door opened again, revealing a bald man, “But he does.” Kate looked at me, watching me continue to struggle against my restraints. 

“Ooh, she’s a fighter, Derek.” She laughed, “Reminds me a lot of myself at her age.” She looked at her henchman, “Don’t be shy, give her some too.”

-

After getting nothing from either of us, the man left. The guy seemed to enjoy punching Derek in his stomach and watching me double over. His experiments ranged and there were a few new cuts on my body that weren’t there earlier today. Kate walked in, listening to someone on her phone. 

“Unfortunately, Derek, if you’re not gonna talk I’m gonna have to kill you.” She walked back over to the electrical box. I screamed through the gag, lunging my body forward, making the chair jump forward. I tried again but lost balance, the chair fell sideways. My arm slammed into the concrete floor. Derek winced at the impact. Kate chuckled, reaching for the knob to close the circuit. 

“Say hi to your sister for me.” She paused, “You didn’t tell her about me did you? The truth about the fire?“ Derek’s guilt showed on his face, now too tired and beaten to hide it. 

"Or did you?” She asked, “Oh, sweetie, that’s a lot of guilt to keep buried. It’s not all your fault. You got tricked by a pretty face. It happens. Handsome young werewolf mistakenly falls in love with a super hot girl who comes from a family that kills werewolves.“ Derek’s emotions ranged from anger to guilt and sadness. 

"Is that ironic? Is it? Ironic, that you were unknowingly helping me track down the rest of the pack. Again. We’re just a little bit of history repeating.” She paused for a minute, thinking about what she said, "History repeating..“ She muttered. 

"It’s not Jackson is it? Oh no no no, he’s got a little scratch on the back of his neck. But he’s not in love with Allison. Not like Scott.” It didn’t take torture to find out who the other beta was, so that just meant Kate Argent was more of a monster than I originally thought. The new danger was to Scott and that translated to Stiles, and I wasn’t there to keep him safe.

----------------------

Read part 9 here!

I’m reading the transcript of the episode as I’m writing so let’s say the similarities between what (Y/N) says and what Kate says are intentional. 

Likes, Comments, and reblogs are appreciated! Again I want to thank everyone who has been reading, it’s bring back my Teen Wolf nostalgia. 

Comment below or message me to be on the taglist! 

YSM Tag:

@nyotamalfoy

@fruitloopzzz

@babygirl-angel-love

@aestheticeggs

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, leninille!

For @leninille. These are the first three chapters and a complete story within a new storyline I've got several chapter outlines for. All of this came up during development of this Secret Santa Exchange gift, and as more familiar faces are revealed, the tags will be updated accordingly.

Read On AO3

*****

Health Tonics and Love Gardens

Chapter 1 - The Stiles In The Garden

Stiles has been working on this garden for months. It is colorful now, with tiny bushes he'd groomed into shape and the better airflow they get without the other plants strangling the light and air from the garden. He's been restoring this garden to what it might have once been, and tried to keep remembering what his mom told him about the garden back home.

"These flowers may look nice, but they can also cause healing or harm." He thought in his mother's voice.

This specific phrase stuck with him, and usually when he's daydreaming and not paying attention to what he's saying, he'll speak the words and try to recall the exact details of the garden as it was when his mom was caring for it.

"Why?" he again remembers asking, and he says the same thing aloud every time this happens.

The details of the answer vary, probably because his child mind wasn't really any better at staying on target for even half the time his adult brain can do now. That means that his mom's voice answers the questing with different words, and the theme generally was: "Sometimes a little of a plant can help a person heal from an injury. Give them too much, and they will suffer, may come to harm, and could die."

It's the stinging nettle that his mother is indicating to him today. He looks at the plant in the present and gives it side-eye.

"A good cook can turn this nettle into a healthful tea."

Little Stiles can feel himself interrupt her. "I've made tea, mom. It's easy!" He used to be so excited about stuff. He was what... maybe eight years old when this happened?

He favors his mother's memory by having her always say something that humors the younger him.

"Yes! You can make very good tea. And thank you for doing it! But some teas we can make require very good care. A good cook like me knows how to prepare the stems, or the flowers, or pieces of the root all cut up into tiny pieces of any of these plants." She makes tickling fingers at him and he smiles at the recollection.

"What if the cook uses the wrong pieces?"

"Then instead of healing, maybe nothing will happen. But with some plants, you can make someone worse. They can be hurt forever, and might even die."

Little Stiles did not want to make that kind of tea, and he considered not ever being near tea again.

"Promise me, Stiles, that you will not try to make tea from anything that comes from this garden."

That was an easy promise to keep. The Stiles in his 20s, having these memories, appreciates how well his mother understood how he thought. Under her brief guidance, Stiles cultivated a voracious curiosity and analytical mind. He got over the worries about tea, eventually, but it wasn't until after this gardening thing started that he want and tried to learn more about exactly what were these plants in the plot and what kinds of tea could be made with them.

As he found out later, after many hours and days of looking through cookbooks and materials online, he started to feel like this was a medicinal garden instead of an herb garden for actual cooking.

"And never make tea with anything outside the garden without talking to me first, okay?"

Little Stiles nods again. At that age he loved strawberries, and he thought he might not worry so much about tea if he had some of the best tea with his mom right now. "I want to make the strawberry tea!"

"Oh! That sounds good."

Little Stiles helped Claudia put the tools away and gather the strawberries and lemon and sugar from their places in the kitchen. They talked about his day at school, and the memory always fades from there.

It is well more than ten years since that day and it's one of his favorite memories of his mother. Many memories stick because they sucked, or because he thinks about them so much he can't tell if they're real or if he made them up.

He does think it's odd that every week, at least once a week, Stiles is at this old burned house in the Beacon Hills Preserve, working on this garden, talking to himself to review what he's learned about these different plants, and making threats at the plants who he still can't identify or which are giving him troubles that day. He's still just as wary of the nettle, but they've got a grudging agreement not to bother each other. For the rest? He'll unlock their secrets soon enough.

It's fair to say that he lets his guard down at this point. Nobody's ever been around here. He expected there would be graffiti on the house or whatever, but no, it's just been the house and this garden, and Stiles taking care of the latter.

He clips a sprig of lavender and adds it to his bag with the rosemary, adds some heather blossoms, and mutters "Calluna" as he snaps them. It's their genus, and they're in the same family as rhododendrons. There are two of those in the yard, not close to the house.

His thought withers as he turns to the house and takes it in with a slow breath. It always seems like the house is watching him, but not seeing him. It's never felt threatening, just... omnipresent, he thinks.

This house was full of the potential of these many lives. The family suffered, and in his investigation into public records and police records ("Heya, daddio... Can I ask you a question?" being only the most direct route to the files, and not the only one he took), he had learned that the family's absence left some big holes in the town at the time.

Curiously, it was hard to find photos of any of the family members. Even social media didn't have much. The kids weren't in school yearbooks he could get hold of, and he's gone through everything he could find in the school archive, even the old student newsletters.

He had found a photo of Talia Hale. She was the mother and as far as he could tell, the kind of person everyone in town seemed to know and most respected. He had no idea that Talia's spouse looked like, having seen only the name "Blake Hale" and having no idea who that was.

The dusty family obituary Stiles found in the paper printed after the fire listed several dead. But the count doesn't match what the police logged, and that doesn't match the fire inspector's. The insurance company itself gave a third number in a quote taken by a reporter.

The situation didn't make sense to him, and it bothered him that nobody seemed to know what really happened here. How many Hales were impacted by the fire? Did any escape? The body counts ranged from fewer than ten to the low 20s. Nobody knew if there was a party that night because despite all the fresh vehicle tracks at the scene, there were very few vehicles in the driveway. So where did those other visitors go? The firefighters' work destroyed the scene and they couldn't find any tire tracks that might lead them in a useful direction.

And weirdest of all: He's still not found anything that even hints that his mother and the Hales were affiliated. So this garden and the exact matching one at home, which Stiles and his dad have somewhat neglected after many years of close attention, Stiles still doesn't know why he cares so much about this plot at the Hale house.

He'd explored the ruins many times in his months of gardening. The house sits still and aging, creaking wearily in the winds as it always does. The only trespassers seem to be him and the squirrels.

He tugs a threatening vine away from the garden and trims it back. It's probably a volunteer left by some bird.

On his first day here he didn't go in the house, but walked slowly around it, walking his blue bike as he walked the perimeter. It was coming around the back of the house when he caught the scent of a familiar combination of herbs and he discovered his garden out here in the woods.

It is exactly the same layout as at the Stilinski house, but these plants were overgrown and struggling, and the vines were getting close. As he got on his knees and started his first concerted effort at gardening the plot, he started trying to find answers to these two questions: "Why does this garden layout look identical to ours at home?" and, given that the garden does exist in both places, "How did the Hales know his mother?"

Derek doesn't know how to respond. He had never been an alpha, and would never be, so he'd mostly ignored those lessons when his mom and Laura talked about them. His alpha and sister in one being swore to him years ago that no matter how much they'd already lost, they'll always be near each other.

"Are you alright? Did you hear me?" she glances at him and pokes him. She feels the sensation of being mentally stunned, then gives him an annoyed look. "Why is this weird for you?"

He blinked at her. "You don't think it's weird that for years we've not even talked once about Beacon Hills and now you say that you've spent weeks fighting an unidentified and suspicious pull to return home for a few weeks?"

"No, I said a few months. Three or four, maybe. Who cares? It's still a calling."

Derek looked at her and asked the obvious. "Couldn't this be hunters?"

She shook her head. This wasn't aggressive magic, and she wasn't sure how she knew that. It was more than intuition, though... it was certainty. Werewolves are often sensitive to many kinds of magical activities that may happen around them or to them, and her enhanced abilities told her that this just wasn't like any of that. She considered an odd possibility.

"Maybe it's my wolf?"

Derek rolls his eyes. "We are werewolves, Laura. It's a gift of a greater life, not a spiritual possession."

"Hey, I know that there's no separate little spooky spirit inside any of us beyond what most people seem to think they have. But this is like..." She searches the room until her eyes land in the opposite corner. She points at the TV and clarifies, "It's like I'm getting a new channel, and it's focused on the wolfish instincts, not the human side. Can't you feel it, too?"

He shakes his head. There has been zero sensation of compulsion in Derek to return to Beacon Hills. He would be happy to never return. It was once a beautiful place, but that's lost with everything else and he doesn't want to find any of it again.

"Can you check the pack bond and tell me what you see?"

He glares at her, already tired of this conversation. The alpha sees different things in pack bonds than each member sees. Laura likes to learn what Derek sees, and tells herself that it'll come in handy when she's got a bigger pack. They haven't even tried to connect with any werewolves despite there being many free-roaming supernatural family hanging around. The Hales are a duo that nobody can mess with.

She's persistent, so he focuses and listens with his inner senses and finds the same pack bond with her that he's seen for years. It's identical to how it was before. Nothing new, nothing seeming magical beyond the usual. It's hard to believe her about this when he's got no evidence it's happening.

"Damn. I hate this. I wish I had an emissary to ask."

Derek doesn't know what to think about emissaries, and leans toward not-in-favor since theirs failed to protect them from the hunter assault that lead to his family's near-annihilation. This emissary was newer, replacing their former emissary who had died of a normal, terrible cause like brain cancer. Derek met the new guy once and hated how he smelled of animals and cleaning supplies. The man's day job was as head veterinarian at the Beacon Hills Animal Clinic.

Last time they talked about him, Laura recalled that he was mostly a quiet man, didn't like giving full answers, and Talia mostly found him annoying, though useful at times.

Derek stewed on the fresh thoughts of the vet being partly responsible for what happened. Now he's feeling some kind of pull to return, to demand answers, at the very least.

Magic, as far as Derek was concerned, has been far more bother than it's worth.

"I never liked Deaton, but he's all I know." Laura suggested.

"Oh, then all of this was your fault," Derek said in an attempt to lighten the mood. It took a second to realize that he just accused the emissary of letting the family come to harm because he and Laura didn't get along.

"No emissary and no wolf was responsible for what happened, Derek." That left only the implication of the hunter woman he'd let get too close.

With regard to that person, Derek only ever harbors stabbingly angry thoughts about what should happen to her. She'd lied, she'd taken advantage of his life inexperience, and in the end of it all, she failed to murder him with everyone else, and he simmered deep inside from a wound that hadn't healed. His eyes flash.

Laura doesn't look away. He's upset, and he's not great with expressing himself on the best of day. She doesn't flash her eyes back at him. She's not angry, she's sad that he keeps blaming himself.

Derek reads this on her face and understands. "Fuck!" he mumbles a disappointed apology. "It wasn't your fault." He punctuates the air more softly with a mumbled repeat of the exclamation.

"Derek." She has come to a conclusion and in that tone she's warning him to prepare himself for something he is going to dislike. "I think we need to go back. We'll be careful," she says as he gives her an irritated and skeptical. "We'll stay in another town, sneak in as wolves and investigate the Preserve and the house. Maybe check out Beacon Hills and," she said, conspiratorially, "get some donuts before we leave."

"Leave?"

"We don't have to stay. I just need answers."

He considers this. It's not a demand or a request, it's just what she's going to do and she knows he's coming with her. But the confectionary he'd not thought about in years comes back to him. "I forgot about the donuts! And because of you," he glares at her, "now I have to have one."

"Perfect!" she says. He makes a good show at faking indignation, but he's heading into his room and looking around. They weren't likely to come back, so he shoots a message to his boss about a family emergency and he starts packing.

She's looking from the main room at his back as he starts sorting things out. He's always the scaredywolf, and she starts to pull snacks together that they'll want for the long drive.

Chapter 2 - These Wolves Are Here To Play

"Iiiiiiiiiiiiiii've been working on the raaaaaaaaaaailroad!" the man shouts. "All the live-long daaaaaaaaayGAACK!" Choking sputters and spitting follows the interruption. The approaching wolves still and listen.

"What the crap?! I'm working on your stupid habitat here!" A triple spitting sound. "Leave me alone you big dumb m-moth!"

The wolves glance at each other and share a look that says, "This guy's got worse problems than his big, stupid voice."

Laura steps ahead, leading them closer, keeping the shrubs and other undergrowth between them and the person in the distance. This guy doesn't scream "Threat!" to anyone but himself, but even well-meaning people can lead to tragedy. It would be best, of course, if the guy happened to take off before they got near him.

But if he did, she warns herself, that could mean he knows they're coming. That would make him either a super or a magic user. If he stays for too long, they'll need to scare him out of there so they can take a look around.

Derek made a subvocal growl. He's always preferred the hostile approach to any conflict and she nudges him with a low-pitched growl of denial.

Derek huffs. He actually huffs at her.

What a whiny puppy.

"Rodzina," Stiles says to the wolf the second he realizes he's not alone.

And then he slaps his hand over his mouth, uncertain why he's speaking Polish. The wolf regards him, unflinching. "It's Polish for family." This creature is huge! Larger than any dog he's ever met, and it's broad and got a defined mane around its neck. It's a really beautiful and terrifying wolf. Oh, oh god. It's a freaking wolf.

The wolf glances at his chest and tilts its head at him. She seemed to know that word, somehow. How could that even happen? Well, he's happy she hasn't been all growly and dipping her head down and being mean.

"I'm sorry, but there's no food here, and I can't take you home and get you any." With real sorrow, since having a wolf pet would be totally awesome, but a really bad idea, he adds, "You're beautiful, but I can't can't have a pet."

The wolf chuffs at him.

What? A chuff! That's practically falling over with laughter in wolf terms, as far as Stiles is concerned.

"Hey! Don't chuff at me!" He's wiggling a finger at her. It's 10% aggression and 90% cowardice. He focuses on forgetting everything except that 10%. He nervously walks through his thoughts aloud because he can't help his mouth moving of its own accord at this moment.

"Okay, so fine, let's see... I'm gardening here, that's legitimately all I'm doing. No looking for secret treasure at the house or anything. You're coming here passing through or whatever, even though there haven't been wolves in this part of California in decades. I know you understand me, and you're pretending not to. But why don't you talk back?"

He is looking directly into her eyes before consciously realizing he's taking her measure. This is a specific thing he definitely remembers promising himself he'd never do if he were being challenged by a large predator in the wilderness. And yet, he's challenging this alpha wolf—

"You're an alpha wolf? How can there be alpha wolves when the whole scientific hypothesis was proven to be wrong?" He wants to ramble the name of the research article on the subject, and about the way the article was written, but manages to catch hold of his thought trains and redirect. "That's not important right now. It's crazy enough that I somehow know you can understand me clearly."

She's a smart wolf. Human-equivalent intelligence, for sure. She tries not to tilt her head in an approximation of doggy confusion, but it's a projection. Odd how that he's here gardening and along comes this alph—

"WEREWOLF?! You're a werewolf?!"

Stiles describes this later to his father as, "when all hell breaks loose."

The alpha wolf lifts her lips and growls at Stiles, who is immediately cowed. She's joined half a second later by another large wolf, slightly smaller than her as he is a beta, but he's also got very long and sharp and they're massive and this is a very bad place for him to be right now!

"Shit! I'm not delicious! Don't eat me!"

The alpha stops growling again, and seems to be shaking. The other wolf snarls at her. She snarls back.

Of fucking course! "You're siblings?" Okay, that's it, you need to tell me who you are. Between cautiouswolf and hyperprotective wolf," indicating the alpha and the beta in order, "who the hell are you?"

The beta keeps growling but defers reluctantly to the alpha. She studies Stiles, looking at him and not laughing wolfishly anymore. There's no hint of threatening demise, just curiosity.

It would be too far to say it's quite trust, but it's the recognition that the confusion is mutual and that there is no threat.

Stiles also looks at this as another opportunity to try to talk himself out of the situation. He gives explaining himself another try.

"I was here by accident the first time, and then I found the garden," he waves over to it, easily seen from where all three wolves stood. The beta wolf didn't take his eyes off Stiles, but the alpha regarded his handiwork without apparent comment and resumed studying Stiles.

"Keep talking," was the obvious implication. Order. It was definitely an order, and Stiles agreed that he should continue.

"My mom planted a garden exactly like this one at home. So finding such a unique one out here, at the site of," he looks at the house and murmurs, "really bad stuff is just weird." He feels his cheeks tighten and get heavy and a tear slips down his cheeks. "She died before she told me what all the plants are for. As far as I know she didn't even know the family." He turns around, letting embarrassment at his own emotions put his unguarded back at risk of wolfish sneak-attack.

There's a shuffling noise behind him that tugs his attention back and he wipes his face. It's blotchy, and gross, he's sure, but he's looking at the wolves.

Something quiet happened here while he was turned around. The male wolf is looking almost... ashamed in some way, and the alpha turns back to Stiles after a staredown with the beta and seats herself a step closer to Stiles.

He decides not to mention that moving closer is just as terrifying than all of the other scary things they've done because the seated pose is probably just a ruse to get him when he's vulnerable, but...

Thump.

That was a tail. He looks around her sitting form as if trying to find her tail. Her expression reads as, most likely, "You seriously need to chill." Off to the side, the beta just looks mean as ever and ready to chew on his soft and fleshy neck.

He pulls his phone out and texts his dad. He holds up a finger to the wolf who'd risen to her feet again.

"No, just a minute. My dad's expecting me and I need to let him know that I'll be a little late. I'm not telling him about our little one-sided conversation, which you really should join, by the way." The wolves seemed mollified, if not satisfied with the answer. Neither rises to the bait and starts speaking, so the beta keeps his ears rotating around, listening for danger, and the alpha's ears are firmly oriented in his direction.

"Do you know this place?" The ear flick of the alpha and the glance at the house let him connect some dots. "The Hale family lived here and you knew them."

For the next several minutes, Stiles explains what he has learned of the Hales from his look into the school archives, the police and fire reports, the insurance report he'd acquired through a friend of a friend who shall all remain nameless. He tells of the obituary and the news stories and the details that don't make sense.

He's speculating and journeying down educational, if difficult to follow sidetracks, and mentions one detail that catches the wolves' complete attentions. It was about the catatonic John Doe found a few days later a short walk from the highway.

"Oh? Uhh, I just think maybe there's a connection between that John Doe and the Hale fire. There's too many weird details, things that haven't happened at any other time in this town or probably any town. It's tidy and messy at the same time. I don't trust that."

He's been looking at things on his phone that are pictures or notes or scans of things he's found and looks for the rest of what he discovered about that John Doe.

"Look," he says as he flips the phone toward them. "I found evidence that— Oh, I don't know if you even see in color, or if you can read this in your current shape. Hopefully you're better than other canines about that but you're not answering questions right now, so we'll park that for later.

He reviews the notes and continues.

"I snuck into the hospital and I think this guy really could have been a family member or friend of the Hales. He was scarred badly, as if from a fire, and though he wasn't near the Hale house, the paramedics estimated he'd already suffered two days in the cool air in probably this very state."

The sad whine of them both went unnoticed through the racing thoughts of the human.

"I still think he looks like an age-progressed version of the Beacon Hills basketball team player I found in this picture."

He makes the face as large as he can. It's just a face, and it's blurry.

The first wolf shifts back to human. She says, "Who is this?"

Stiles gasps and then tries to pretend a wolf didn't just shift in front of him to human form and start asking him questions.

"This is a picture of Peter Hale."

She turns to the other wolf. "Derek!" and she motions at him to stand up, but the wolf Derek declines. It wasn't an order, but a move of cautious excitement. Derek's keeping a wary eye in the human's direction even as his sister looms closer to the phone and examines the picture.

"I'm sorry, madam alpha, or whatever is the right title, but you appear to have no clothes on and I am not prepared to um... talk with you in this manner at this time. And stuff."

She looks at him, and then herself, and shakes her head. "When it comes to werewolves, clothing is as optional as it gets."

"Oh, your kind can't transform your clothing when you shift?" Something subconscious snags his attention. "Are you sure about that?"

She looks at him. Her hair is a little wild, and she's strong even in this form. "I know more about werewolves than you do."

He tucks his phone in his pocket.

"Okay, look, fine, you want to talk in the nude. You do you, but I really am just going to need to leave right now and clear my head and then I can... I can come back tomorrow, yeah?" He's not sure why he's excited to return. They did nearly eat him several times in this conversation, based on the number of flashes of teeth he caught in the last several minutes.

"Fine, come back tomorrow, but do not tell anyone we were here."

Stiles nods, distracted, and takes a few tries before he gets all his gardening things stuffed back into his bag and gets himself situated for the ride out of the preserve.

"I'll be here just after five tomorrow, alright? I've got work, but I'll be here, and I'll bring some stuff you can look at. Please try to get some clothes or this is going to be awkward and I am really out of awkward for the day.

"You're really not," the alpha says. Stiles sputters.

"Hey!"

"Hey, family man," she says, referring to his Polish of earlier. "I'm Laura. Who are you?"

"I'm Stiles Stilinski."

The other wolf looks at him and hruffs, almost laughing.

Cripes, these siblings are already annoying him.

"Hey, asshole, it's my name. You'd break yourself trying to pronounce my first name, so be thankful for my gracious manner."

Stiles leaves slowly, trying to go faster, but it takes a while to get his body to let go of the anxiety enough to punish his legs on the pedals and fly as fast as he can without crashing.

Kind of a tall order, some days.

"I cannot believe I just promised I'd come back to chat with those man-eaters!" He gripes at himself. "Do they eat people? How do you even ask someone if they eat people? Especially if they can change shapes and have fangs and sharp pointy parts?" He listens to his intuition. Of course they're not cannibals. Or maybe they are if they're not considered humans. "UGH! They are gonna answer so many questions tomorrow or else!"

Derek has followed him silently for maybe half a mile, listening to the bewildering blitz of self-talk ranging from werewolves to garlic naan bread and Derek just gives up and heads toward the house, where Laura is waiting for him.

Chapter 3 - The Interposing

The sun is low now, shining bright fingers through the shattered window frames and vacant doorways of the shell of this old house. By coincidence of timing and place, Laura stands in a sunny shape on the decrepit porch. Derek listens to her adjusting her stance and watches as her fingers push through a beam of sunlight and trace the crackled texture of the carbonized door frame.

"You didn't stop him and make him tell us where Peter is."

She catches his meaning immediately. "Yeah, there's something at work here keeping me from chasing him away."

"You failed," he says, gesturing broadly at her exposed form. "He can't handle this much woman."

"Well, Derek, I've got the supernatural hookup. We all do. He's going to have to get used to all this." She looks at the smudges on her fingers. "But why didn't you stop him?"

"I don't know. And I only just realized it when I said it." Now Derek looks as confused as she had been. He wasn't even feeling hostile toward the Stiles, and that is the most irritating thing about this.

She shifts her hand through beta shift and to full wolf, then back again. It's a difficult transition, but since she could just focus and do it, Derek just observed as she shifted from human form through partial beta and partial full forms, and then back to full human.

Derek was curious what she was doing, and noticed her smile as he held her fingers up.

Every finger still had dirt.

"I've never thought about how we take dirt and things with us through the shift, but not our clothes."

"Are you suggesting that he can teach us to take clothing or tools into our shift?"

She shrugged her shoulders and grinned. The pack bond resonated with satisfaction, and he rolled his eyes.

"We don't know anything about him."

"I know, but if you could feel it, you'd know that this place needs us, Derek." She looks into the house from across the threshold. "And gardener Stiles is part of whatever is going on here." They were all called here. It's magic that bound them, brought them together, and seems to be managing their introduction.

"Is he the magic user?"

"There is ample potential. Surely you could feel that by the time he left."

"I hate magic," Derek grumbles as he thinks about it. Yes, he could tell Stiles was ignorant of his own potential and that worried Derek more than the fact that this stranger happened to suddenly be part of their lives in a way that captivates his alpha.

Laura snaps her fingers. "Yo, how could you not have heard me?"

Derek raises an eyebrow in defiance. Not his best move, but now it's her turn to roll her eyes and she repeats herself.

"Let's go find Deaton. If he's around, maybe he can help us figure out who this is and what kind of magic is being worked here."

"Can we pass the hospital, too? I'd like to see if we might find uncle Peter."

She nods. That matters a lot to both of them, too. She resolves that before 5pm tomorrow, they'll have gotten at least one answer to the question of what's going on. She leans into a full shift and Derek follows, chasing her as they race into the forest for the long route to the vet's office.

"My dad is going to kill me when he finds out I was talking with werewolves at the Hale house." He nearly skids to a stop and releases his clenched brake. He isn't a Hollywood stunts expert and he would not have recovered well from a solo crash on the pavement. His ego would be only one of his many bruised parts.

He considers 14 different stories that seem plausible enough, dismissed half of them outright as abominations, and spend the next minutes thinking up some 40 more before settling on the best candidate.

He parked his bike along the side of the house and walked quickly to the front, nearly crashing into his patient and curious father on the porch.

"Hello Stiles. You didn't say why you'd be late, but—"

"I was watching the sunset!" he interjected. Dad glances toward the sun now, indicating that the sunset isn't done yet.

"Nope, you weren't. Do you want to tell me what really happened?"

"Yes!" he squeaks, and then rushes his dad inside with a glance over his shoulder that lacks any essence of subtlety. He's checking the few houses in view to see if anyone in a homes or yard or car or suspicious van might be spying on them. He closes the door quietly and pointedly locks it.

"Are you sure this is necessary, Stiles?"

"Dad, my world has been supernaturally rocked tonight, and what I'm about to tell you will do the same for you."

[sparklywitchmoment]

Hell And Silence || Chapter Eight

MASTERLIST

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 5,009

A/N: YESSS IT’S ME I’M BACK FROM THE DEAD WITH A NEW CHAPTER!!!! Unfortunately, it’s just a filler nothing interesting is really happening but IT’S SOMETHING I’M PROUD OF MYSELF. I was actually going to finish and post this last week but forgot I would be on a cruise for spring break with NO WIFI. it was torture. ALSO! Hell and Silence is coming up and double-diget chapters and I think once that happens I’ll have to move this party to my wattpad account! I would highly recommend if you read it on my wattpad to go back and skim through the new versions of the chapters because I have been making a few changes and edits and I might even switch a few chapters to a third person point of view? Change things up a bit. LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!!!!! I love hearing from your guys!!!! NOW ENJOY CHAPTER EIGHT.

Chapter One     Chapter Two     Chapter Three     Chapter Four         Chapter Five     Chapter Six     Chapter Seven

CHAPTER EIGHT

DEREK

I knew when I came back to Beacon Hills that the pack was going to find out about me turning Vanessa at one time or another- I just thought I would have more time to get myself back on their good side. The fact that it happened this quickly completely destroyed any sensible plan I had for them finding out. I’m the Hale alpha, I shouldn’t be scared of Scott- true alpha or not- but when it comes to his family or his pack, he becomes a different person- someone capable of taking down Deucalion, the alpha of all alphas.. It’s like he turns into the beta everyone thought he was going to when Peter bit him- ruthless and uncontrollable. If she told him what I said to her last night on top of the fact I turned her and abandoned her… Vanessa’s just as much his sister as she is Stiles’.

It’s been almost eight hours since I kicked Vanessa out, and there’s still no word from any of the pack.

“Dare I say that the girl didn’t snitch on you?” Peter said, voice breaking the silence that I’d used for comfort. I glared, flashing my red eyes and growling at my uncle who decided he just needed to be a sarcastic asshole right now. Peter held up his hands, sucking in a breath through his teeth. “Someone’s sensitive…”

I groaned, running my fingers through my hair and standing up, hoping walking would help my mind focus on something- anything. Both Peter and I flung out heads in the direction of the door when we heard the elevator bell echo through the hall and into the loft. The bell was followed by footsteps- heavy ones- coming closer by the second.

The footsteps stopped for a second then a knock strong enough to make me jump in my skin a little rang out through my cavernous living space. I rushed the door, quickly sliding it open, silently preparing myself to be tackled to the ground at any second- bracing myself for the pain knowing that I couldn’t fight back against part of Scott’s pack- or Scott himself. Instead, I was met by the overwhelming scent of cheap alcohol, and a pale(-er than usual), messy haired Isaac.

He stumbled through the door, reaching out to grab my arm for support. “You, asshole,” Isaac grumbled, wagging his finger in my direction. “Took my girl,” He pulled his hand off me, continuing to wobble his way across the loft. “Stole her right out from under me.”

Peter stared at Isaac, pure disgust coating his features before he craned his neck to look at me, then back at Isaac. “Are you drunk, Scarfy?”

Isaac spun on his heels, pausing for a moment before bursting into laughter. “Me, drunk? No, why would I be? Is not like my handsome alpha over here screwed my girlfriend or anything!” The laughter turned into slurred shouting, Isaac throwing his hands up and seeming to be surprised by the weight of them. “Then again, a girl has needs and I was to afraid of hurting her to meet them. Sue me!”

“I feel like this is something I shouldn’t be involved in…” Peter said, standing from his spot on the couch with his arms raised. I shot him a glare as he tried to make his way towards the front door. “Sorry, Der- your puppies are not my problem.”

I groaned, watching as Peter left the loft, leaving me with Isaac who had once again started laughing. He must have been drinking all night. It takes a lot of booze to waste a werewolf this bad.

“Do you love her, Derek? ‘Cause I do- I may not tell her, but I show her! I deserve her!” His voice turned into  growl, eyes glowing a bright yellow, canines forming over his teeth.

“Isaac, you need to calm down,” I tried to coax him, reaching out to grab his arm but he just yanked it back, nearly tripping over his feet.

“Calm down? You can’t be serious.” He huffed, biting down on his lip, enough to draw blood- I could smell it. “Vanessa is the only person I have left, and just like everything else I’ve ever loved, she’s been taken from me- by you!”

Isaac rushed at me, slamming his hands against my chest and shoving me back against the coffee table between the couch and armchair. His shifting continued, hair growing down the side of his face, claws ripping part of my shirt after he pushed me again.

“Isaac…” I warned, feeling a heat growing in my chest, but he didn’t stop.

“She’s the only good thing to happen to me since I got the bite, and you needed to take her too!” His voice had shifted from that of a tree-like teenager to that of some sort of demonic man. My eyes flickered red as I felt my canines growing out over my teeth. Isaac continued to push, despite noticing how I had started to shift myself. “Vanessa’s too good for me, which means she’s certainly too good for a poisonous jackass like-”

The heat in my chest continued to grow, and before I could even think, my voice erupted from my throat. “Isaac!” I howled, voice echoing through the cavernous loft making the light in Isaac’s eyes go out. He let out a small whimper, taking a few steps back away from me. I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms. “There’s an extra room upstairs, first door on the right. Sober up, then we can talk.”

Isaac hesitated for a second, then nodded his head starting to make his way to the stairs, shoulders hung in shame. I know his drunk ranting to me is probably the most honestly I’ll ever get out of him, but he needs to be sober to have that conversation. I wish I knew what to say to him- the kid who’s been like a brother to me for years. How do I explain to him why I slept with his girlfriend, or that I’m her alpha? How would she explain it? This was so much easier when I didn’t have to see how it affected Isaac; when I could just say “screw him,” because with Vanessa, I finally felt like a missing piece of me had been put into place. But now that I see him… it changes things.

Just as the door right of the staircase clicked shut, I felt my phone start to vibrate in my pocket.

And there it is, I thought to myself, digging for the phone. The call I’ve been waiting for.

The screen illuminated in my hands, Erica’s caller ID popping up onto it. Not the person I was expecting to hear from, but she’ll probably be more merciful that anyone else in Scott’s pack. I quickly slid my thumb across the phone, holding it up to my ear.

“Erica, is something wrong?”

Her breathing was ragged on the other end of the line. “Oh no, Derek- in fact I’m just peachy. Although, Boyd and I just attended the weirdest little meeting at the Stilinski house… I assume you know what the topic of discussion was?”

I groaned, rubbing my temple. “I think I’ve got a pretty good idea,”

“Seriously man, Vanessa Stilinski? I’m starting to think you’ve got a deathwish.” Boyd’s quiet voice rang through the phone- Erica must have put me on speaker.

“She was dying, I did what I had to do.”

Erica groaned, “Yeah whatever, that’s the least of our problems right now. Scott wants to meet with you, probably to rip your head off and Isaac’s been MIA since last night.”

“And we’ve been calling him all morn- Erica, slow the hell down!” Boyd shouted, making me pull the phone away from my ear. Erica’s driving skills were never the best, hence why I don’t even let her look at my Camaro.

“Relax, Boyd- we crash, we’ll survive. Don’t be such a wuss!”

I tried to hold back a grin, listening to the two of them bicker just the same as they did two years ago. Some things never change, I guess.

“You two, stop arguing and get to my place. Isaac showed up this morning after a night of binge drinking, and he’s fine. Just get here.”

“Isaac found his way to your house in the middle of the woods while shit-faced?” Boyd accused, Erica making a loud mmhmm sound.

“I don’t live in the woods anymore- big black building on the corner of Caige and Franklin. I’ll tell the doorman to let you up.”

“Ooh, doorman? Look at you, Derek Hale- stepping up your game.” Erica laughed, Boyd joining in with quiet snickers.

“Shut up and drive, Reyes. I’ll see you both soon, in one piece I hope.”

“No promises!” Erica said, before hanging up the phone. God, those two are a piece of work.

It wasn’t even another ten minutes after I’d hung up the phone that Erica had- without knocking, might I add- stormed her way into the loft, Boyd trailing behind her. Erica had a bright smile across her face, Boyd laughing a little.

“Something funny?” I asked, crossing my arms.

“No, nothing,” Erica managed to say clearly through her fit of laughter. “Your doorman was just telling us about some of the weird shit Peter’s done. Did you know that he trips over the doorframe almost every time he enters the building?”

Boyd pretended to fall, his massive body hurdling forward. He must have lost his footing because that mocking fall became real and he couldn’t stop himself from pushing over the tall lamp I had resting near the couch on the floor. Of course, that just made Erica laugh harder while I glared at Boyd and the remnants of my stained-glass lampshade.

“Sorry, man…” Boyd said, rubbing the back of his neck and picking a piece of stained glass out of his forearm. Not even a single drop of blood dripped out of the wound before the skin stitched itself shut, leaving little to no trace that the glass was even there. Erica was still laughing her ass off, and Boyd looked like he was about to shit himself.

“Whatever, it was just a lamp.” I said, Boyd calming down from the thought I might murder him ever so slightly. “So what happened at the meeting? I’m guessing Vanessa told you-”

“Oh she told the whole pack, and Scott? He’s livid. Might as well have just let the bitch die, he’d be equally as pissed.” Erica said, crossing her arms and sitting down on the couch, Boyd still trying to regain his balance.

“Hey- she’s not a bitch. Lay off, will you?” Boyd tried to defend Vanessa, but Erica just huffed and brushed him off.

“Please, she’s a bigger bitch than I am, but only on the inside. On the outside, she’s a sarcastic do-gooder just like her damn brother.”

“Enough, Erica.” I growled at her, crossing my arms and fixing my posture so my shadow cast over her. Erica slumped down in the couch, slight amusement coming over Boyd’s hard features.

“Well,” Boyd said, clearing his throat. “I’m going to head out- gonna be late for work. Derek, call Scott and talk to him. I’m sure it won’t be as bad as you think it’s going to be.”

“Hey, hold on- I’m coming with.” Erica called after Boyd who was already half out the door.

“Fine, but you can’t drive,” Boyd said, huffing and continuing his walk to the elevator. Before Erica shut the loft door, she peered her head back inside.

“Nice to have you back, Der,” She said, grinning and biting her lip. “Call Scott- I’m sure he’s eager to hear from you.”

VANESSA

After I’d briefed Lydia and Allison on what had happened, Scott eagerly escorted them out of the house, Allison giving everyone rides home. Through my entire spiel about Derek, last night and argueing with him (minus the angry hate sex), Lydia managed to keep her snarky comments to herself which I was thankful for. This was hard enough as it is, and I can’t take any of her snark at the moment. Isaac is still MIA, no word to anyone since last night.

Now it was just Stiles and I sitting opposite of each other in the living room, silent. Stiles elbows were on his knees, eyes glassy and just… staring at me. He hasn’t said anything since the rest of the pack left.

“If you’re going to say something, just say it.” I said, leaning back into the couch and crossing my arms.

Stiles sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. “It’s nothing about you, Vin. It’s just…” He sighed, slumping back in the chair. “I used to think Derek walked on water, you know? All powerful Hale alpha ‘n stuff, but… God, Vin, how could he do that to you? Leave you for dead?”

I sighed, taking my brothers hand in mine. Stiles looked up, tears brimming the edge of his eyes.

“Derek thought he was doing the right thing by leaving me with Scott… And I’m okay now, right? It worked out in the end.”

“It worked out?” Stiles shot up from the chair, sending my balance back. “Vanessa, you’re practically human. It didn’t work out!”

For a second we were both frozen, staring each other down.

“Practically human? Seriously?” I raised my eyebrows, crossing my arms. “That’s the card you’re going to play.”

When I first turned, Deaton told me I would never be as strong as the rest of the pack because I didn’t have my real alpha training me, and at first it didn’t really bother me. It only started to bother me when Erica made it a joke, when the rest of the pack was out fighting and I was forced to stay out of the action with Stiles. Scott tried to get me involved as possible, but he never put me anywhere close to danger- if he tried, Isaac wouldn’t let him. My brother knew how sensitive the practically human thing is… and I guess that’s why he used it.

I brushed a piece of hair behind my ear, clapping my hands against my legs and standing up.

“I’m going to take the Jeep and try to find Isaac. I’ll…” Grabbing the Jeep’s keys from the rack by the door, I started to make my way outside. “I’ll be back later.”

“Vinny I’m-” Stiles started to say but before I could hear the rest of his sentence I was out the door, his voice muffled through the brick wall.

Driving the hunk-of-shit Jeep around is always scary because I never know if and when it’ll break down. I drove through Beacon Hills with the windows down, slowly making my way downtown. On the way, I tried to see if I could sniff out even the faintest trace of Isaac’s scent anywhere. Unfortunately, it’s spring and the breeze carried every scent you could possibly imagine, so finding Isaac is like a needle in a haystack. Even so, I continued to drive and tried to push my brother’s words out of my head.

Vanessa, you’re practically human.

He’s not wrong. It kills me that I’ll never be as strong as Scott, Erica or the rest of them. I just get the curse, none of the plus sides. I heal somewhat faster, but not fast enough to call it supernatural.

I turned the radio up, soundwaves filling my ears, leaving me too distracted to over think Stiles words.

After not catching a single scent in the the Suburban blocks of Beacon Hills, I made a bee-line for downtown. Sunday afternoon, not many people were out on the streets. The occasional family and busy shopper, but not too many people. It made my job easier when trying to sniff out Isaac. With all this time alone in the car, I tried to think about what I’m going to say to Isaac when I find him- if I find him. I must have been driving for at least an hour already before I caught a familiar scent. It wasn’t distinct yet, but familiar. I tried to follow it, and the scent got stronger each block I went down. I turned the corner onto Caige, and then I could clearly see where the familiar scent was coming from.

Peter, v-neck and all, strolling down the street. That’s the scent I’ve been chasing, not Isaac. I groaned, starting to pull over the car to where Peter was walking. Seeing as I’ve got absolutely no leads as to where Isaac is, what can asking Peter hurt?

I rolled down my window, leaning out as I drove slowly next to Peter.

“Stilinski, you better not be interrupting my morning walk with some dumb bullshit. This is my peaceful time, it’s how I keep from becoming homicidal.” He said without even looking over at me.

“You might want to start taking more walks then,”

Peter rolled his eyes stopping and turning to face me, pushing his sunglasses up his head.

“What do you want?” He growled, blue eyes flashing at me.

“I’m looking for Isaac- He’s been kind of MIA since last night. Have you seen him?”

“As a matter of fact, I have. Came stumbling into the loft this morning like a drunk idiot.” Peter grumbled, crossing his arms and holding his head up high.

The loft, I thought, silently scolding myself for not thinking about that sooner. Of course he would go to Derek.

“How drunk was he?” I asked

“He was shit faced- looked bad, even for a werewolf.” Peter said, starting to resume his walk down the street. “Can you really blame him, though? I heard you and Derek going at it last night. If I were him I would have gotten shit faced too.”

I rolled my eyes and started to drive faster down towards Franklin Street. “Fuck off, Peter!”I shouted out the window, turning the corner, seeing that tall black building at the end of the block.

DEREK

I took one of the pages from my book between my fingers, waiting to turn the page when I heard the spiral staircase start to creak from behind me.

“Look who’s finally up,” I set down the book, turning around to see Isaac coming down the stairs, blonde hair strewn in every direction. “You look like shit.”

Isaac groaned, wrinkling his nose. “You look…” He tilted his head, squinting as he carefully made his way to the ground. “You look like someone my girlfriend would want to screw instead of me.”

“Ouch,” I winced at his words, trying to come up with the right thing to follow up with that wouldn’t make things worse. Nothing came to mind.

“Well it’s not like you don’t deserve it, right?” Isaac said, running his fingers through his mess of curly blonde hair as he finally reached the ground, heading right to he kitchen. I got up from the couch, slowly migrating over to him in hopes that in his hungover state he might not be murderously pissed at me. I sat down in one of the creaky stools, leaning over the counter towards him.

“Listen, Isaac-” I’d started to say, but he held up his hand.

“Save it, I don’t care. Whatever you have to say doesn’t change what you and her did, so I really don’t care.” He said with a strange sense of serenity that I would not expect him to have. Isaac calmly poured himself a glass of orange juice, drinking the full cup in one gulp then pouring more. I knew I couldn’t necessarily argue with him because he’s right. All I could do is sit here and watch him drink some three month old orange juice out of a dusty glass cup and hope maybe he would listen to me.

No, I thought to myself. I have to try and make him listen.

“Isaac, you need to let me explain what happened. It’s not as simple as you think it is, I-” I tried to say but could hardly get one sentence in.

“Derek!” Isaac slammed the glass cup on the countertop, shattering it under his grasp. He didn’t even flinch. “Is what you’re about to say going to take back the fact that you had sex with my girlfriend? Because not even I have done that,”

“No, but-”

“Is it going to make Vanessa stop pulling away from me? Is it going to make her love me again instead of you?”

“That’s insane! She doesn’t love me, she loves you.”

Isaac shrugged, picking out a thick piece of broken glass from his palm. “I thought she did, but the whole balance of the universe is fucked, so who knows?” His blatant snark and distaste for such a serious conversation pissed me off. Before I could stop myself, I could feel myself starting to turn and I had stood up, banging my fists on the countertop, grabbing Isaac’s attention.

“Maybe if you could fucking satisfy her instead of being a skinny blonde bitch she wouldn’t have needed to come to me in the first place!”

“Maybe if you weren’t such an asshole you wouldn’t have slept with my girlfriend anyways because that’s not what decent people do!” Isaac’s eyes were glowing yellow, features changing as well.

Before I could get another word in- as if on cue- the elevator bell rang from down the hall. Isaac and I both turned our heads to the door, faces shifting back to their normal state. Isaac brushed some of the broken glass into his hand and throwing it out calmly, as if two seconds ago he wasn’t wolfed out and screaming at me.

Footsteps moved quickly down the hall to the loft before there was a fist pounding at my door. I slid it open before whoever was on the other side of it could do any permanent damage to the oak finishing on the wood, expecting to come face to face with Boyd, or at least someone with his mass and strength. Instead, I was met by Vanessa’s gleaming amber eyes and furrowed eyebrows.

“Is Isaac here?” She said, crossing her arms, shoes clicking as she tapped her foot.

“Hi Vanessa, it’s nice to see you too,” I said, crossing my arms, but she didn’t even wait for my response before pushing past me into the loft, searching for her boyfriend. When her eyes met with Isaac’s, she looked far more relieved than he did.

“Oh, thank god,” She ran into the kitchen, draping her arms around Isaac’s neck, holding him in a tight embrace. Isaac was surprised at first, but I could see that all the anger he had in his eyes melted away the second she grabbed him. His arms draped around her, holding her tight and burying his face in her shoulder. I turned my eyes away, grip tightening on my own arm as I tried to keep my cool.

“Well now that you’ve found your puppy, take him the hell home.” I growled through my teeth, starting to feel my eyes shift from green to red. There was a second of silence before Vanessa and Isaac’s footsteps started to move through the loft and out the door, sliding it shut behind them. Once I heard the elevator shaft start to move down towards the lobby, I broke out of my controled stance, taking the closest table lamp and chucking it across the room, shattering it on a brick wall. My claws were out, fangs replacing my normal teeth. I’d almost fully shifted, and to think:

All she had to do was touch him.

VANESSA

The car ride back home has to be one of the most awkward experiences I’ve ever had. The tight embrace I wrapped Isaac in back at the loft did not mean that all was forgiven- far from it. Isaac sat in the passenger's seat, hands in his lap sitting straight up tall. We’ve been driving for ten minutes and he hasn’t said a single word.

“I was driving for hours looking for you,” I tried to start up a conversation. “It was actually Peter who told me you were at the loft. Who would have thought?” Laughing to myself, I glanced over at Isaac whose expression remained unchanging. Instead of making any further advances, I just sighed. “C’mon Isaac, you’ve got to give me something to work with here.”

Isaac snapped his head to face me. “You want something to work with? Fine- let’s start on the explanation for why you fucking slept with Derek.”

Anger radiated off him like a red light- seeing him like this scares me, but not enough to cower away into the corner

“Listen, if you want to talk about this like adults, fine. Just maybe not while I’m driving a piece of shit Jeep down city streets, hm?” I said, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter.

Isaac didn’t talk again for another few seconds, giving me time to steady my ragged breathing.

“Pull over,” He hissed under his breath.

“What?”

“I said pull over.” Isaac shouted, gripping the steering wheel and yanking it to the right, driving over the curb. If I hadn’t stepped on the break when I did, we would have wrapped the Jeep around a pole.

“What the fuck?” I screamed into Isaac’s face, but he didn’t even flinch. “You could have just got us both killed.”

“Tell me everything- now.” He said, completely ignoring my shouting.

“We can talk about this when we get back home-”

“No, Vanessa.” His eyes flashed yellow for a second. “I’m going to asked you questions, and you’re going to answer them with total honesty. Not when we get home- right now.”

Each breath he took came out as a low growl. I can’t fight him on this- he deserves to know. He needs to know.

“Fine,” I sighed. “Ask away.”

Isaac took a deep breath, the growling starting to stop. “How long has it been going on?”

“A few weeks…” I looked down at my hands, unable to bring myself to look him in the eye.

“A few weeks? Jesus Vanessa, how the fuck…”

“Can we save the judgement for later? This is already hard enough.” I could feel tears starting to well in my eyes. I tried to push them back, but I couldn’t resist.

“Okay.... How many times have you slept with him?”

I screwed my eyes shut, a tear slipping out. “Twice.”

Isaac’s growls got louder again. “So it wasn’t just a one time thing? It wasn’t just a ‘I was drunk, regret it, and will never do it again,” thing?”

“It’s not like that Isaac, I do regret it, just-”

“Just not enough to not do it again.”

“Baby, please-” I finally looked back up and saw that tears had started to go down Isaac’s cheeks as well.

“No, you don’t get to ‘baby’ me.” He unbuckled his seatbelt opening the door to the Jeep and pulling himself out. “I’m going to walk the rest of the way home- actually, I’ll probably stay at Scott’s tonight. Maybe see if I can get back there full time… Wouldn’t want it to be awkward for you when you start bringing Derek home.” He shut the car door behind him, starting to walk. My heart was racing so fast it felt like it wasn’t beating at all. I reached for my necklace, holding it tight in my hand, trying hard to think of something to say.

The bond. I haven’t told him about the bond.

“Isaac, please, just let me explain!” I leaned out of the open window, calling after him.

“What is there left to explain? I’ve heard all I needed to hear.”

I tried to find the words to say to him, tried to shout but my voice caught in my throat. Nothing would come out, so all I could do is watch Isaac disappear into the foggy city streets.

[thisdiscontentedwinter]

hunger - chapter 10

Hunger master post

When Stiles wakes up, it’s evening. He’s lying on the fold-out couch in the McCalls’ basement, almost smothered in soft, warm blankets. He can’t remember the last time he felt this comfortable, but comfort doesn’t equate to safety. He shoves the blankets off him, wonders fleetingly who dressed him in flannel pajamas, and then swings his legs over the side of the fold-out couch and sits up. He closes his eyes against the wave of dizziness, holding onto the sides of the frame of the thin mattress while it passes. Then he hauls himself to his feet, and climbs the basement stairs.

He doesn’t think he makes much noise, but Scott is suddenly right there at the top of the steps. “Stiles! How are you feeling?”

“Okay,” Stiles says, because it’s all relative, right?

“Mom’s making you some soup,” Scott tells him.

Stiles swallows down his anxiety and follows Scott into the kitchen.

“Sit,” Melissa McCall says in the exact same tone she used on Deputy Parrish at the hospital, and points to the small kitchen table. “Both of you.”

Stiles sits. “Mrs. McCall, I—”

“No,” she says sternly. “First, you eat.” She ladles soup from the pot on the stove into a bowl, and crosses the floor to set it down in front of him. Chicken noodle. It smells better than anything Stiles has eaten in forever. She hands him a spoon. “Take it slowly,” she cautions.

She sits down at the table with them, and watches Stiles closely while he eats.

Stiles manages to finish half the bowl before his stomach hurts.

“The police have already looked for you here,” Melissa says. She raises her eyebrows. “Jordan Parrish is a smart guy. So running away like you did the other night? That was probably a good idea.”

Stiles nods cautiously.

“But right now,” Melissa continues, “it’s a very dumb idea. It’s unnecessary. There’s no reason for them to search here again and you, Stiles, are in no fit condition to be going anywhere.”

Stiles wonders if he imagined her calling him Mischief in the bath. He wonders if it should rankle, but it doesn’t. It’s his parents’ name for him, his mom’s especially, but he doesn’t mind if Melissa borrows it too. She makes him feel small, but in a good way. She makes him feel like there’s someone looking out for him.

“I want you to promise me you’ll stay,” Melissa says. “And if you do have to run, that you’ll find some way to contact me or Scott, so that we can help you out with food and warm clothes.”

“O-okay,” Stiles says.

“That’s only as a last resort,” Melissa tells him firmly. “Because you’re not going to run, are you?”

“Um…no?”

Scott kicks him gently in the ankle. “Dude, say it like you mean it.”

“I’m not going to run,” Stiles says.

Scott’s smile is infectious.

“Why are you helping me?” Stiles asks, meeting Melissa’s gaze. “It’s not just because you remember my mom?”

“I remember your dad too,” Melissa says. “My ex-husband is in the FBI.”

Stiles’s entire body tenses.

“He wasn’t on the team that investigated your father,” Melissa says. “But he told me he never felt right about the investigation. He just said he had a feeling that it was all too easy.” She looks to Scott, and smiles a little sadly. “Rafa and I have plenty of differences of opinion, but he’s a good agent.”

Stiles’s brain ticks over with the possibilities. The FBI ran the investigation, because corruption charges against a sheriff? That falls within federal jurisdiction. And a potentially sympathetic FBI agent? Rafa McCall could be the key to unraveling the entire mess, if there’s a way for Stiles to point him in Kate Argent’s direction without giving himself up. Since he’s a wanted person at the moment.

At the same time, he’s cautious. He’s very aware that he has no proof. He’s very aware that the testimony of a kid with his history—trauma, ADD, psychologists’ reports from his time in care, running away and committing numerous misdemeanors while on the streets—probably isn’t enough to get Kate Argent investigated. Stiles overheard a phone call four years ago. It’s not a smoking gun. It’s less than nothing, probably. Just the paranoid ramblings of a mentally disturbed kid.

“Can…” Stiles furrows his brow. “Can he help me?”

“Stiles, do you know something about your father’s case?” Melissa asks gently.

Stiles considers the question for a moment. To say yes means bringing an FBI agent in, which only works if Stiles has enough to convince him to investigate. If he doesn’t have enough, then he’s asking a federal agent to overlook the fact he’s a missing person currently wanted by the Beacon Hills’ Sheriff’s Department.

The odds aren’t with him.

Not yet.

But they will be.

“No,” he says. “No, I don’t.”

Melissa reaches out and puts her hand on his shoulder. She squeezes gently. “Then let’s just concentrate on getting you healthy for now, okay?”

“Okay,” Stiles says, and reaches for the rest of his soup.

 ***

 Melissa is on night shift. She leaves the house at nine. Before she goes she makes sure Stiles knows when to take more Tylenol, and makes Scott promise to be in bed at a reasonable hour. It’s a school night.

“And you too, Stiles,” she says. “You’d better be here in the morning because I’m making pancakes for breakfast.”

Stiles nods.

When she’s gone, Scott locks the door behind her. He and Stiles retreat to the living room. Scott puts on a DVD and they sit on the couch to watch it. They only make it as far as the menu before Scott turns to regard Stiles. “Dude, you lied to my mom.”

“I did not!” Stiles protests. “I’m not going to run!”

“Not about that,” Scott says. “About not knowing anything about your dad’s case.” He furrows his brow. “Is that about Kate Argent?”

“What?”

“Okay, so.” Scott draws a deep breath. “When you went missing again, me and Allison decided to go looking for you, right?”

“Right,” Stiles agrees warily.

“So we checked out the things you’d looked up on Allison’s laptop,” Scott says. “And it was her aunt, and the Hale fire.”

Stiles nods, and rubs his sternum to ease the tightening in his chest.

“So then Allison wanted to know what the Hale fire had to do with anything. I said I didn’t know, and we figured that maybe we’d go and look at the ruins.” Scott looks guilty. “I mean, not in a creepy way or anything, like kids do on Halloween. But we thought if you were so interested in the place, maybe that’s where you would have gone. Like you had some connection to the place?”

“My dad investigated the fire,” Stiles says.

“I know that now,” Scott says. “But I didn’t then. So we went out there, the night after you ran away, except suddenly there were all these deer running around like something spooked them, and we got separated, and something bit me!”

“What?” Stiles asks, wide-eyed.

“I don’t know,” Scott says. “I only saw the deer. But it was like a big bite, you know? I was bleeding and everything. Allison had to help me put a bandage on.” He rubs the side of his torso. “We didn’t want to go to the hospital or anything, because then Mom would know we’d been out in the woods. My rabies shots are up to date from working at the animal clinic and stuff, so that wasn’t a big deal. Anyway, in the morning, the bite was gone.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Stiles tells him.

“I know!” Scott’s eyebrows vanish under his floppy bangs. “I spent like half the day on Reddit checking out Glitch in the Matrix stories, just in case. But it definitely happened, because Allison took a picture of the bite on her phone. Just in case, you know, it didn’t stop bleeding and we had to suck it up and go to the hospital. Allison keeps asking me if it’s still hurting. I freaked out too much to show her it was gone.”

“That’s weird,” Stiles says.

“No, what’s the weirdest thing is that I can hear things really well now,”  Scott says. “And smell them. Like when I was looking for you. I suddenly thought, I bet I can smell where Stiles is! And I could! I just like concentrated on what you smelled like—you’re kind of funky from living rough, no offence—and then I just walked right into that park and found you.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Stiles repeats, slowly this time.

“I know!” Scott exclaims. “I had to tell Mom that you turned up at the clinic. But, dude, guess how I could tell you were lying to Mom?”

“How?” The word escapes him on a breath.

Scott’s eyes are wide and a little frightened. “I can hear your heartbeat! It gets really fast when you lie or you get scared!”

“What?”

“Yeah,” Scott says, and shakes his head. “I think I’m going crazy!”

That makes two of them.

 ***

 Maybe Stiles knocked his head, or the fever fried his brain, or maybe the same disease that killed his mom is manifesting in him too, but right now Stiles doesn’t care. He has a bed in the basement of the McCalls’ house, and a toothbrush in their bathroom, and when Melissa gets home from work in the morning she makes pancakes like she promised.

“Don’t tell Mom about the whole weird smelling thing and the heartbeats,” Scott whispers to him as they dig into their pancakes.

That’s okay. Stiles can keep secrets.

He helps wash the dishes after breakfast, because apparently the dishwasher is broken.

“This!” Melissa yells at Scott’s retreating back. “This is what a helpful teenager looks like, Scott!”

But she’s smiling when she says it.

She stands beside Stiles at the sink. “I called a friend of mine today who works for Child Protective Services. I didn’t mention your name. I talked to her about the steps I’d need to take to become a foster carer. Everything would still need to go through the courts, so I can’t make any promises, Stiles, but is that something that you would want me to do?”

Stiles swallows around the ache in his throat. He nods.

Melissa’s eyes are dark with worry. “The process can take a few months, although there’s a chance I could get a lawyer to advocate for you and maybe speed the process up.”

A lawyer? Stiles can’t help glancing at the broken dishwasher. Melissa’s a single mom. How is she going to afford a lawyer?

She follows his gaze with a knowing smile. “That’s where Rafa steps up, whether he wants to or not.” Her smile fades. “So you need to be very careful that nobody finds out you’re living here in the meantime, okay? Scott won’t say anything to anyone at school, and you need to keep out of sight of the neighbors.”

Stiles nods. “What about, um, what about the police?”

“The police are looking for Jamie Williams right now,” Melissa says. “Stiles Stilinski is only a missing person, right?” She raises her eyebrows. “Right?”

Stiles nods hastily. “Yes!”

Melissa nods. “Then once we get your placement sorted out, we explain what happened to your lawyer, and take their advice on how to proceed.”

It’s a lot riding on hope, and it’s frightening. What’s even more frightening is the risk that Melissa is taking on him, on a kid she doesn’t even know. Jesus. No wonder Scott let him into the animal clinic that night, and gave him food and a hoodie. He inherited his selflessness straight from his mom. His selflessness and his faith in strangers.

“Do you want to try, Stiles?” Melissa asks. “I know it’s a big ask, and it might not work and you could end up exactly where you started, but you can’t just live in my basement until you’re an adult. You should be in school. You should be having a normal life.”

Stiles hasn’t had a normal life in as long as he can remember.

But being in Melissa’s care? In Beacon Hills? With a tenuous connection to an FBI agent who might be able to help? Stiles knows from experience that the universe isn’t going to give him an offer any better than this one.

“Yeah,” he says. “I really want to try.”

 ***

 Scott heads off to school with strict instructions not to say anything to anyone about his new houseguest, and Stiles spends the day on his laptop while Melissa sleeps. He misses the heavy, warm weight of the dog leaning up against him, and pushes the sadness away. He transforms it into anger instead, a low, steady burn in his gut.

Kate Argent put his dad in prison and killed his dog.

Stiles is going to find a way to make her pay for all that.

In the meantime, he’s safe and he’s warm and he’s got Scott and Melissa on his side. He closes the several tabs he’s got open to articles on the Hale fire, and opens a new one. He types in: enhanced hearing, enhanced smell.

Well then.

Scott’s probably not pregnant, right?

He adds wound healed overnight to the search.

He’s also probably not a werewolf.

Stiles snorts, and goes to Reddit instead to see what Star Wars memes he’s missed while he’s been offline.