Reading Time: 100 Minutes

Title: A Raging Tempest
Series: What We Gain
Series Order: 4
Author: enigmaticblue
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Genre: Angst, Drama, Family, Hurt/Comfort
Relationship(s): Gen
Content Rating: R
Warnings: Rape/Non-con/Dub-con (between Derek Hale and Jennifer Blake where she uses magic to roofie him)
Word Count: 68,278
Summary: Noah realizes that integrating as many pack members as they have is going to present problems of its own. With pressures building inside and outside the pack, Noah finds himself in the midst of a storm that may devastate his pack and Beacon Hills alike.
Artist: ringspells

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Chapter 4

Noah stands with Stiles in the sanctuary of the Catholic church where Heather’s funeral is being held. It’s packed, with standing room only, and Noah suspects that is both due to Heather’s popularity, as well as the notoriety of the crime.

The sheriff’s department can try to keep things quiet, but the press knows that three young people have been killed in a brutal fashion, and there are rumors of a serial killer.

He really isn’t sure what keeps people in Beacon Hills sometimes. There have been a lot of bodies, but people seem to mostly just accept it.

Stiles is standing up straight in his dark suit, crisp white shirt, and dark blue tie, his shoulders pulled back. He’d left Batman at home, not wanting to draw attention to himself. “You can be my emotional support animal,” Stiles had joked before they left the house.

Noah had worn his Class A uniform, wanting to pay respect to the victim, and knowing that people expect it.

The priest climbs behind the lectern and says, “You may all be seated.”

Heather’s father is the one to read the eulogy, tears streaming down his face the entire time. He talks about how proud he was of his daughter, how bright she had been, how loving, and how much light she’d brought to their lives.

Noah doesn’t think he’d have been so coherent had their positions been reversed.

Stiles’ head is bowed, and Noah had made sure that they both had handkerchiefs before they left the house, and Stiles continuously wipes his face.

They have an opportunity after the service to go to the internment, and then the reception at the house afterward, but Stiles just shakes his head when Noah asks him if he wants to go.

“I can’t,” Stiles chokes out. “I just—I just want to go home and hug my dog.”

“Okay,” Noah says. “We can do that.”

It had taken two weeks to complete the autopsy and release the body, and another few days to arrange the funeral. Noah had called to excuse Stiles from school, and he’s taken the day off work, barring any emergencies, so he drives Stiles home.

They both immediately change out of their more formal clothes. Derek is out, and Noah isn’t sure whether he has classes today—on a Thursday—or if maybe he’s out with Parrish. Derek has been a little more standoffish recently, but Derek has his own life to live, and is unlikely to be a target of the Darach.

Noah meets Stiles in the living room, and asks, “Where’s Moira?”

“I texted her, and she’ll be here in a bit,” Stiles replies. “We’re going over to the Mahealanis’ house later as long as she deems me sufficiently steady emotionally, just to see if we can do a seeing, or maybe cast and get answers before the next cycle starts.”

“She didn’t want to come to the funeral?” Noah asks.

Stiles shakes his head. “No, she said that the funerals are for the living, not the dead. She didn’t know Heather, but I did.”

Stiles is sprawled on the sofa, and Batman is stretched across his lap. He’s too big to be a lapdog, but Noah assumes that the position is comforting for the both of them.

“What do you need from me, son?” Noah asks.

Stiles blows out a breath. “I don’t know, Dad. I want things to be normal, and I don’t know how to get there.”

“Is Sabra helping?” Noah asks.

“Yeah,” Stiles says immediately. “I think we’re getting somewhere. She even got Boyd to speak in whole paragraphs last session.”

Noah laughs, because that’s true enough. In their last weekend session, Sabra had been able to get both Boyd and Isaac to open up about their families, and why the pack feels so welcoming. Noah is open to constructive criticism, but so far, his pack members have done nothing but talk about how much they appreciate his presence. “What else do I need to know?”

Stiles chews his lip. “Something is up with Derek.”

“What kind of thing?” Noah asks.

“I’ve been kind of hyper aware of the pack bonds since I renewed Scott’s,” Stiles admits. “And the one with Derek feels different.”

“How so?” Noah asks.

Stiles shakes his head. “I don’t know. It just does. Derek says he’s fine every time I ask, and he seems fine, but something is off. I don’t know how to quantify it. I’m just saying that if he starts to display odd behavior, maybe we should sit on him or something until we get to the root of things.”

The pack bond feels no different to Noah, but he has to admit that for him, it’s more of a yes/no question—does he feel it or not? Stiles is the one who has the easiest time reading the nuances, and Noah trusts his perception. “Do you want me to talk to him?”

Stiles shakes his head definitively. “No, it might feel like we’re ganging up on him, when he’s already said he’s fine.”

Noah nods. “Okay, well, I have the rest of the day off, and if Moira agrees, I’d like to go with you to the Mahealanis.”

He’s met them before, for a casual dinner, but he’s never been there when they’ve practiced magic, but Noah is feeling the need to at least observe, even if he’ll never truly understand.

Stiles nods slowly. “Yeah, I think you should be there, if Moira and the others agree. Maybe you’ll get a sense of what we can do”

“I already have a sense of what you can do, but I agree. Are you hungry?” Noah asks. “You should probably eat.”

“I think there’s stuff for sandwiches,” Stiles says desultorily. “But I’m not that hungry.”

“You should definitely eat,” Noah says firmly. “Especially since you’re going to be doing magic later. Batman, help me out here.”

Batman whines and licks Stiles face over and over until Stiles says, “Okay, okay, I give up! We’re going to eat, I get it.”

Noah doesn’t do a lot of cooking—although he knows his way around a grill—but he can throw together a couple of turkey sandwiches. He knows what Stiles likes, and he piles it high with turkey, cheddar, lettuce and tomato. Noah finds the bottle of honey mustard, and Stiles happily squirts out a pile onto his plate to dip his sandwich in. Noah prefers to stick with mayo and spicy mustard.

“Oh, good, you’re eating,” Moira says. “I was going to insist that you have lunch before we went over to the Mahealanis.”

“Are you hungry?” Noah asks. “I can make you a sandwich, too.”

“You eat, and I’ll make my own,” Moira says firmly. “Danny won’t be with us until after school is out, but he doesn’t have a lot of skill in this area, so it makes sense to proceed with the four of us, even if the circle will be slightly unbalanced.”

“I’d like to be there if you don’t think it will be a problem,” Noah says quietly, in between bites. “I don’t know enough about magic, and what it can do.”

Moira hesitates, then says, “I’ll text Noelani. If she agrees, you would be welcome.” She sends off a quick text, and then asks Stiles, “How was the funeral?”

Stiles shrugs. “I’m glad I went.” He tears off a bit of stray turkey and feeds it to Batman. “But it didn’t do much for me, to be honest. She’s dead, and now she’s been laid to rest, and I hope she has some peace.”

“I’m sure she does,” Moira replies. “In my tradition, those harmed by magic find peace and rest and justice in the next life.”

Stiles nods, but doesn’t reply, and Noah suspects that Stiles is still trying to figure out what he believes. As a spark, religion doesn’t seem to be a part of it as much as his ability.

Moira checks her phone. “Noelani and Alana both agree that you can be present, Noah. They think it’s important to forge a closer relationship with you and the pack at large. If we are going to create a sanctuary town, it will require as much.”

Noah nods. “I’m happy to hear that.”

Moira’s sandwich looks a lot like Noah’s, and she starts eating cheerfully. “Good. I think that’s smart. Stiles, is there any change to the pack bonds?”

“Derek is still off, but everyone else seems fine,” Stiles replies. “Any update on Deaton?”

“The clinic has been deserted,” Moira replies. “And there’s no sign of human habitation. I can’t find a trace of that slippery druid, so I think we’re good. I’ve sensed another in town who might present a problem, although she seems content to lie low after the deaths of the alpha pack members.”

Stiles blows out a breath, sounding relieved. “Okay, good. I mean, the idea that he had wards set up to erode pack bonds, that’s just not on.”

“I’m not even sure that’s what was intended,” Moira says. “I had a closer look, and I think he mistook one rune for another.”

Noah has no idea what that means, but Stiles asks, “Which one?”

“I believe he was attempting to boost Scott’s abilities, but chose a rune that would instead erode his connection to the pack. This is why training is so important.”

“Preaching to the choir,” Stiles says, dipping the last bite of his sandwich into a puddle of honey mustard. “Much education, much training, much learning—and then doing.”

“Glad you’ve taken those teachings to heart, young spark,” Moira says, and Noah now knows that it’s more than just a term of endearment. It’s a title.

“You teach, and I learn,” Stiles replies. “And sometimes, I teach, and you learn.”

“That’s true enough,” Moira agrees. “I’m glad you realize that.”

Stiles offers her a quick grin. “I think I’ll take Batman out for a quick walk before we head over.” Batman is wearing his vest, and Stiles loops the leash around his wrist. “Back in fifteen.”

Noah begins to put everything away. “Do you think we may face additional threats from Deaton?”

Moira snorts. “Hardly. He talked a big game, but I think he knew the gig was up. He wasn’t going to be able to manipulate Scott anymore, and he was on notice that there’s a coven that would interfere if he stayed.”

“Scott seemed appropriately chastised,” Noah comments. “I think being in danger of losing the pack has taught him the value of being in the pack.”

“I would agree with that,” Moira says. “At least Scott is listening to you and Melissa again, and I think that will continue.” She takes a bite out of her sandwich and asks, “Any update on the Argents?”

Noah shakes his head. “No, and I don’t expect to hear anything for a while. The last I heard, the defense had requested competency evaluations for both Gerard and Kate. They’ll be wrapped up in pre-trial motions for at least a year, maybe more. And Gerard’s health is failing, so he may not even make it to trial, although he’s holding on longer than anyone expected.”

“Good riddance to bad rubbish,” Moira comments. “I hope he saves the State the cost of a trial.”

“I hope we can at least bring him to trial, although I agree with you in a sense,” Noah says. “But I think the exposure would show the hunter community the deviancy of the Argents’ beliefs about werewolves.”

Moira grimaces. “Perhaps, or perhaps it will merely infect them. These sorts of harmful beliefs can be as contagious as the common cold.”

Noah knows that she’s not wrong about that. “True. I guess we’ll see.”

They finish cleaning up the kitchen around the same time as Stiles returns from his walk, looking windblown and a little more at ease than before.

“You feeling better?” Noah asks.

Stiles nods. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Moira straightens and says, “Great. Noelani and Alana are expecting us.”

Moira drives Stiles over, but Noah takes his own vehicle. Although he had taken the day off to spend with Stiles, he knows that he could get called into the station at any moment if there’s an emergency. He wants to be able to leave without Stiles or Moira being stranded.

The Mahealanis live in a nice house in the same area of town that the Whittemores had lived before moving overseas. Alana Mahealani answers the door, greeting Moira and Stiles warmly with a hug and a kiss to the cheek. “How are you, Stiles?” Alana asks, resting her hands on Stiles’ shoulders. “I know today was a hard one for you.”

Stiles shakes his head. “I just hope she’s at peace.”

“We’ll say a prayer for her soul today,” Alana promises. “Sheriff, it’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“Noah, please,” he replies, accepting her outstretched hand. “I’m here as Stiles’ dad.”

“You’re welcome here,” Alana replies. “We’re set up in the backyard again, Stiles.”

Stiles nods and follows her through the house and into the backyard, Moira and Noah trailing behind. Noelani is already in the backyard, setting up a familiar ritual space. Noelani gets to her feet with enviable ease and gives Moira a long hug with a warm kiss on the lips, then turns to Stiles. “Come here, young spark.”

Stiles steps into the hug, and Noah realizes that Stiles has been embraced here, too, and not just because of his magical gifts. There’s real affection for him.

Noelani kisses Stiles on the forehead. “We’ll say a prayer for her before we get started, and request that her spirit lead us to her murderer so that she can be at rest.”

Stiles nods and blinks rapidly. “Thank you.”

Noelani keeps a hand on Stiles’ shoulder as she turns to Noah. “And you are also welcome, Noah. I assume you wish to know more about magic.”

“I do,” Noah agrees. “I don’t know enough.”

“The beginning of knowledge is to acknowledge that we don’t know everything,” Noelani says warmly. “Come, Stiles, you’ll be at the northern point.”

Moira sits at the western point, Noelani the south, and Alana to the east. Noah has no idea what any of that means, and he resolves to do some reading on his own time to educate himself. He’s been telling himself that magic is Stiles’ thing, but now it’s encroaching on his job, and he needs more information.

Noelani begins to speak in a musical language that Noah assumes is Hawaiian, and then says, “We’ll start with a true seeing using water. Moira, please lead us.”

“May magic bless our endeavors, for we seek to protect the helpless,” Moira says. “Help us prevent the loss of more innocent lives.”

There’s a silver bowl in the middle of the ritual space, filled with water, and Moira kneels so that she can look into the water.

“It’s dark,” Moira says after a few moments. “There’s nothing. I believe the Darach has hidden themselves quite well.”

“We’ll try runes then,” Noelani says. “We knew that a true seeing would be difficult unless the Darach was acting at that moment and had let their guard down. Runes are more subjective, but the earth may cry out against these murders.”

Noah has watched Stiles use the rune stones before, but he’s never watched closely, and he finds himself leaning in. Moira holds her hand over the bowl of water, speaking words in an unfamiliar language. After she’s done that, she pours the water out onto the grass and puts the bowl back into her bag.

He still can’t quite get used to the fact that Moira’s bag is bigger on the inside than the outside. She pulls out a leather bag and passes it to Stiles, who holds it in his hand and then tosses it a couple of times. Stiles closes his eyes, and takes a deep, audible breath. “Okay.”

Stiles pours the rune stones out into his hand, and then asks, “What’s the next target group?”

A sharp gesture has the stones landing on the cloth, and Stiles leans over the stones. “Clearly, warriors.”

Noah has a question, but he’s not sure whether it’s welcome, so he holds his tongue.

“You can ask,” Moira says, apparently sensing that Noah’s curiosity.

“Virgin means a very specific thing, but warriors?” Noah asks.

Noelani snorts. “That’s where things get complicated. The rest of the categories are broad, and you can squeeze people in to fit the box. The Darach will likely have a number of targets, and will strike when and where it’s most convenient.”

“So, there’s no way of knowing who would fit that category?” Noah presses.

“You would fit,” Moira counters. “You were in the Army. Several of your deputies would also fit.”

Noah pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’re telling me that any veteran in Beacon Hills could be a target.”

Moira gives him an apologetic look. “That’s what I’m saying. Or it could be a member of the National Guard, or another form of weekend warrior. What I can say is that it won’t be a werewolf. Werewolves and magical rituals rarely mix well.”

Stiles has gathered up the stones again, and he shakes them in his hand a couple of times. “Is the Darach related to Deaton?”

This time, all of the stones land rune-side down. “Okay, so that’s a no,” Stiles says, scooping the stones back up. “Is the Darach connected to the alpha pack?”

Several stones land rune-side up, and Stiles leans over them with a frown. “Huh.”

Moira peers over his shoulder. “Huh, indeed.”

“Don’t leave the rest of us in suspense,” Noelani says sharply.

Stiles just shakes his head. “It’s clear that the Darach is connected to Deucalion, but what the connection is—that’s unclear. She was his enemy?”

“Yes, I think so,” Moira agrees. “The alpha pack—the gift that keeps on giving.”

Stiles scoops up the stones again. “Was the Darach attacked by a member of the alpha pack?”

He leans over the runs again, and lets out a low whistle. “Okay, now we’re getting somewhere! They were attacked by a member of the alpha pack, and this is the rune for betrayal.”

All three women sit back, and Moira says, “That does narrow down our list of suspects.”

“How so?” Noah asks, because he’s not seeing it.

“Magic users typically fulfill one function in a pack,” Moira replies. “And a Darach is a druid gone bad. There are exceptions; some packs have strong magic users among their human members, but we’re likely looking for the former emissary of one of the alphas.”

Noah can immediately see a problem with that. “Yeah, but not even Derek knew that Deaton was the Hale pack emissary.”

“I didn’t say it was going to be easy,” Moira says, sounding amused. “But you have dossiers on all the members of the alpha pack, right?”

“Bare bones, yes,” Noah admits. “Once they were dead, it didn’t seem quite so important.”

“Well, time to dust off the research skills,” Alana says briskly. “I can assist.” She smiles, her dimples flashing. “Danny comes by his computer skills honestly, and I know what I’m looking for when it comes to emissaries and magic users.”

Noah hates to invite a civilian into a police investigation, but then he remembers that it’s not as though they’re going to be proving up a criminal case against this person. They’re just going to be stopped, much like the alpha pack had been stopped.

“All right,” Noah says. “I have to admit that this world is completely foreign to me, so I will accept the help.”

“Don’t worry, Noah,” Moira says. “At the end of the day, it will be the coven taking care of the Darach, not law enforcement.”

Noah frowns. “Yeah, that doesn’t actually make me feel any better, because I know that means Stiles is going to be involved.”

“Sorry, Pops,” Stiles says. “But yeah, that’s exactly what it means.”

Noah’s reply is cut off by Danny appearing in the backyard. “Did I miss everything?”

“Only most of the things,” Alana replies, getting to her feet and giving her son a hug. “Stiles, do you have everything you need?”

Stiles shakes his head. “I still have a couple of questions. I don’t know that it will help, but I like to be thorough. Hey, Danny.”

Danny reaches down, and then pulls Stiles into a hug. “How was it today? You doing okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” Stiles replies, but he returns the hug. “Thanks for asking.”

“Tough to lose a friend,” Danny comments and pats him on the back. “Let me know if you need anything, even if it’s just a listening ear.”

Noah realizes that this is where Stiles is finding stability outside the pack. He knows that Danny plays lacrosse, but his interest in magic has apparently bonded the two of them. He feels the same sense of dislocation as he had when Noah realized that there were werewolves, and that there’s an entire world of which Noah had been unaware.

Stiles has the coven, which is separate from the pack, and he’s more entrenched here than Noah had realized.

It’s quite honestly a relief to know that Stiles has this outlet, especially after the thing with Scott.

Danny sits down next to Noah and offers a guileless smile. “How are you, Sheriff?”

“I’m feeling a little out of my depth,” Noah replies, and he wouldn’t ordinarily admit to that, but he figures that it’s fairly obvious.

“Yeah, same,” Danny agrees. “I mean, I know about this stuff, but what Stiles can do is beyond what I ever thought possible.”

Noah can guess that Danny knows what Stiles is. “I’m pretty proud of him.”

“He’s changed,” Danny says in a low voice. “You probably already know that.”

Noah takes a breath. “Yeah, I do.”

Stiles asks, “Is there something wrong with Derek?”

Noah frowns, and watches as Stiles throws the stones. Danny leans forward, watching with interest, and all of the stones are blank.

Stiles frowns and scoops up the stones. “Has the Darach corrupted the Nemeton?”

The stones come up blank again.

Stiles glares and scoops up the stones. “Have the ley lines been corrupted?”

Blank again.

“They’ve found a way to block you, Stiles,” Moira says grimly. “Which means that he or she knows about you, or knows something about the magic users here.”

“What about Derek?” Stiles asks.

Moira shakes her head. “Without knowing what they’re doing to him…”

“I can take a look,” Noelani offers. “My type of magic is different from a druid’s, and we may find an in that way.”

“We can host dinner,” Stiles offers. “Invite you guys over while Derek is there, and you can get a feel for the situation.”

“I think that’s a great idea,” Alana says. “We should get to know the pack better anyway.”

Noah clears this throat. “What about this Saturday? If you don’t mind, we can do a potluck.”

“That sounds perfect,” Alana replies. “Danny?”

“We have an early match, but dinner is definitely doable,” Danny replies.

Moira nods. “Great. Stiles, any more questions?”

Stiles shakes his head, scooping up the stones and pouring them into the bag. “I just wish I had a few more answers,” he says, before passing the bag back to Moira.

“I think we got enough,” Moira replies. “We at least have a place to start in tracking who the Darach might be.”

Noah is glad of that much, even though he has no idea how he’s supposed to find someone who might as well be a ghost.

Still, he’s been doing this for a long time, and he knows that even the smallest lead could provide the thread that, when pulled, will cause the whole thing to unravel.

~~~~~

“Stiles! Hey, Stiles, wait up!” Scott calls, jogging up to Stiles. “How did things go?”

Scott had offered to go to the funeral with him, but Stiles insisted that Scott not miss any classes. Scott is doing well this year, and there’s no sense in him getting behind again.

And Stiles had his dad with him, which had been enough.

“It was fine,” Stiles replies. “There was a good turnout, you know?”

Scott bumps Stiles’ shoulder with his own. “Are we still on for tonight?”

“Pizza and therapy?” Stiles asks. “Yep. Sabra thinks this will be the last session, unless we have another rocky patch and need her to come back.”

“I’m glad she came,” Scott admits. “I didn’t really think she would help, but I think it did.”

He and Scott have third period together, and they sit next to each other, Batman taking up the spot under Stiles’ desk. Most people have been cool about him having a service animal, and will assume it has something to do with the kidnapping, which it does. Harris glares at Stiles every time he sees him in the hallway, but Stiles has a different teacher for physics this year, and no longer has to deal with him regularly.

Mr. Douglas, the physics teacher, always smiles at Batman, but doesn’t try to interact with him, and he nods at Stiles, a sympathetic expression on his face. “There was a pop quiz yesterday, Stiles, but you can make it up some other time, or do an extra credit project if you’d prefer.”

Mr. Douglas’ extra credit projects are always fun, and Stiles grins. “Extra credit, please and thank you.”

“See me after class for your assignment,” Mr. Douglas replies.

Cora is also in their class, and she takes the seat behind Stiles. “I took notes for you yesterday, Stiles.”

“Thanks, Cora,” Stiles replies.

Cora hasn’t been in school long, but she seems to be settling in just fine, enjoying the novelty of a normal life. Well, as normal as life can be when you’re part of a werewolf pack.

Stiles thinks a lot of that has been Erica and Cora becoming BFFs, and the tight bond they seem to be forming.

“Hey, I took notes, too!” Scott protests.

“Then we’ll have him covered between the two of us,” Cora says sweetly, but her voice has an edge.

Stiles knows that being the pack’s emissary and the son of the Alpha means that Cora has taken a rather proprietary interest in him. It’s a little strange to suddenly have so many people interested in his well being.

Scott doesn’t get a chance to reply, because Mr. Douglas calls the class to order with a stern, “All right, everyone settle down, and we’ll get started.”

He enjoys physics, and the class moves quickly. When he stops to talk with Mr. Douglas after, he says, “Write at least three pages on entropy. How you approach it is up to you.”

Stiles immediately thinks of about a dozen ways he could approach it, from the practical to the philosophical. “I can approach it any way I like?”

“Try to include at least some principles of physics, rather than just a philosophical approach,” Mr. Douglas says with a smile. “But yes, beyond that, it’s up to you.” He hesitates and then asks, “How are you, Stiles? You’ve been through a series of traumas, as I understand it.”

Mr. Douglas is the first teacher to ask, and to sound truly concerned. “I have a really good therapist, and a great service dog,” Stiles says. “And I have very supportive friends and family.”

“How’s your dad?” Mr. Douglas asks.

“He’s good,” Stiles replies. “He’ll be running again, in case you’re thinking about voting for him.”

“I am, as a matter of fact,” Mr. Douglas says. “And not just because you’re one of my best students.”

Stiles grins. “Well, that works out, since you’re one of my best teachers.”

“Get out of here,” Mr. Douglas says fondly.

Stiles is waylaid before his next class by Lydia, who doesn’t look quite as perfect as she normally does. “I need to talk to you.”

“We have English class,” Stiles counters. “Walk with me.”

“Stiles, I’m serious,” Lydia says a little desperately. “There’s something really weird going on, and you seem to be at the epicenter of weird.”

Stiles hums under his breath. “You have lunch after English, right?”

“I don’t want to talk about this in front of your little gang,” Lydia hisses.

“If you want my help, you can talk about it in front of my friends,” Stiles insists. “They’ll hear about it one way or another anyway.”

Lydia clearly doesn’t appreciate someone else dictating terms, but Stiles couldn’t care less. At some point, his priorities have shifted, and now he has the pack. He still feels like there’s something magical about her, but he has a lot on his plate at the moment.

“Fine,” she says. “I’ll sit with you and your loser friends at lunch.”

Stiles gives her a look. “In case you haven’t noticed, me and my gang are doing just fine in terms of popularity.”

With Jackson gone, the social structure at school has shifted. Danny is friendly with them, and Stiles’ “gang” has three first liners. Plus, the fact that they’re insular, and therefore slightly mysterious, has raised their street cred. Lydia is a bit on her own, because Allison is gone.

She’s still popular, but she doesn’t have the power she wielded the year before.

Lydia growls in frustration. “I thought you were going to worship at my feet.”

“Hm, yeah, no,” Stiles replies. “Turns out that getting kidnapped and nearly murdered gives a person some perspective.”

They walk into English class, and Stiles takes his usual seat in the middle of the classroom. It’s advanced placement, and Danny shares the class, and he sits next to Stiles. “Hey, man,” he says, offering a fist bump.

Stiles bumps fists. “Hey. Everything good?”

“Great,” Danny replies. “You? After yesterday?”

Stiles shrugs. “I’ve got Batman.”

Batman nudges Stiles’ leg with his nose, then rests his muzzle on Stiles’ foot.

“And he’s a very good boy, obviously,” Danny replies.

Batman’s ears twitch, but he doesn’t otherwise respond.

Ms. Ramsey holds up her hands. “All right, we can agree that Mr. Stiles’ service dog is a very good boy, but we’re currently discussing A Passage to India. And while we appreciate all very good boys, this is your reminder that on-duty service dogs are off-limits.”

There are some laughs at that, and then Ms. Ramsey says, “Stiles, why don’t you tell us about your initial impressions of the novel?”

Stiles launches into his impressions of the class system in colonial India, and the unfairness of it all. As expected, Ms. Ramsey holds up a hand before Stiles is completely done. “Thank you, Stiles, for that hot take.”

“Always happy to serve,” Stiles replies.

The rest of the class laughs at that, and even Mrs. Ramsey smiles. “All right, any other impressions?”

The others mostly just echo what Stiles has already said, riffing on it, although Andi has better insight from being half-Desi, half-white. Stiles probably should have let her answer first, and then he could have riffed on her answer.

Stiles really does need to start thinking ahead a little more. He could be less of a know-it-all.

But that’s probably not in his wheel house, to be honest.

They have a lively discussion about class differences in India and colonization, and it’s actually a really fun time.

Stiles heads off to lunch, opting for the sandwich and fruit option as being slightly healthier. He also grabs a carton of milk and a bottle of water. Once he’s found a table, he sets Batman’s collapsible bowl on the floor and fills it. Scott is the first to join him, his tray looking much the same, and then Erica and Cora, and finally Isaac and Boyd. They’d all carefully arranged their schedules this year so they each have at least a few classes with another pack member, and they all eat lunch together.

“Lydia might be joining us,” Stiles says softly.

That causes some raised eyebrows, but no one says anything, and Scott and Isaac shift to the side when she appears, clearly intending to sit down across from Stiles.

Lydia sets her tray down with slightly more force than is necessary, making her displeasure known. “I would really rather do this in private, Stiles.”

“And if your situation is truly weird, then you’re probably going to need more help than I can provide,” Stiles counters. “So, if you want my assistance, spill.”

Lydia blinks at him, apparently realizing that she’s not going to be able to push him around the way she normally does. When she begins talking, her tone is noticeably more conciliatory. “You know about the most recent deaths?”

Everyone knows about the recent deaths, and Stiles is the Sheriff’s son, so he raises one disbelieving eyebrow. “Yes, I do.”

“I knew someone was going to die before it happened,” Lydia admits in a rush. “I stumbled across the body of the lifeguard, I don’t remember his name. I was near Heather’s house when she disappeared, and I dreamed of the death of the girl in the woods.”

Stiles can see that she’s truly distraught, which would explain why she’s not looking quite as impeccable as usual. “Okay, that sounds genuinely horrifying.”

“You don’t think I’m going crazy?” Lydia asks.

Stiles shrugs. “Once is happenstance, twice is coincidence, but a third time is a pattern. I can’t tell you why this is happening to you, but I can look into it, ask around, and report back.”

Erica leans in. “Do you feel as though you might be in danger?”

“It doesn’t feel like that,” Lydia says slowly. “I thought I might be…” She trails off, and Stiles can see why she’s so freaked out.

“It’s nothing you’re causing, although there’s a chance that you’re connected to it somehow,” Stiles replies. He wants to reassure her that they already know what is causing it, even if they don’t know the who, but he doesn’t know how to explain that without getting into details about the pack, details his dad has been very clear on not sharing without prior authorization.

Lydia’s face falls. “I thought you’d know what it was.”

“I don’t know everything,” Stiles says, amused. “But I have a tutor who does, and I know a few people who know even more than that. I’ll ask around.”

“Hey,” Danny says, appearing next to the table. “Is this where the cool kids are sitting now?”

It’s a joke, but it isn’t, and Stiles waves him to the remaining empty seat. “Sure.”

Danny offers Lydia a sympathetic smile. “You doing okay, Lydia?”

She shrugs. “I’m fine.”

Stiles can see that she’s not, but there’s nothing he can do about it at the moment. He’ll have to talk with Moira, see if she knows what might be troubling Lydia, because it’s not immediately obvious. He has a magic lesson with her and the Mahealanis after school today, though, before their last session with Sabra.

The rest of the school day passes quickly, and Stiles follows Danny to his house after the final bell. Moira, Noelani, and Alana are waiting for them, and Moira puts an arm around Stiles’ shoulders. “Anything of note happen today?”

Stiles grimaces. “Maybe? Lydia came to me and said that something weird was going on. She felt all three of the last deaths, and she found the lifeguard, was apparently near Heather’s house, and dreamed of the death of the girl in the woods.”

All three women raise their eyebrows, and Danny frowns. “I knew about the lifeguard, because she called me after she found the body, but not about the other two.”

“I think Lydia is feeling pretty isolated with Jackson and Allison both gone,” Stiles says. “I’m not sure she feels as though she has a lot of friends.”

Danny nods slowly. “The balance of power at the high school has shifted. With Jackson being gone, and Scott being the sole captain of the lacrosse team, plus Isaac and Boyd being first line, and Erica being Erica… I get where she’s coming from.”

Stiles smiles at him. “You’re not lonely, are you, Danny?”

“I do okay,” Danny says dryly. “Don’t worry about me.”

Alana says, “A death harbinger is more in your magical tradition than mine, Moira.”

“Do you know what could cause that?” Stiles asks, “because Lydia seemed pretty freaked out.”

“Either she’s connected to the Darach in some way, which is possible, but unlikely, or she’s not entirely human,” Moira says slowly. “Exposure to the Nemeton as it currently is could draw out gifts that she’s not entirely ready to embrace. Normally, those gifts wake slowly, gradually, so as not to drive a person insane. If they’re woken more suddenly, it can be…problematic.”

“What kind of gifts?” Danny asks with clear concern.

Moira hesitates. “Frankly, the most likely explanation is that she’s a banshee, since they scream for the dead, and are harbingers of death.”

“Can they cause death?” Stiles asks.

Moira shrugs. “Certainly. Anyone can cause death through the usual means, but if you’re asking whether her powers can cause death, no. Although, depending on how powerful the banshee is, their scream can be used as a weapon.”

“So, what are we going to do about her?” Danny asks.

“What we would normally do for someone whose powers are manifesting earlier than they otherwise might,” Moira replies. “We’ll introduce her to the supernatural in a controlled environment. I know a few banshees, so it’s possible that we can contact a teacher for her if necessary, depending on how she responds to the news. But I’m afraid that her problems will need to wait until we’ve dealt with the Darach.”

Noelani clears her throat. “We’re going to lead the session today, Stiles, and our time is short.”

“What’s the plan?” Stiles asks.

“There is a way to set triggers on the ley lines that will notify us if the Darach tries to tap into that power, or the power that’s trapped within in the Nemeton,” Alana explains. “It’s possible that the Darach won’t touch it. They might be getting all the magical power they need from the sacrifices, and they know we’ll be looking for them. Still, it’s a strategy that’s more familiar to our traditions than the druids’, so we’ve judged it to be worth the risk.”

Stiles shrugs. “It’s worth a shot, right? We don’t have much to go on, other than it was probably an emissary connected to the alpha pack, right?”

“We’re working that angle,” Alana says. “But you’re right, time is of the essence. It won’t be long before they start the next cycle, and we know that warriors are the target this time.”

“Which could include some of my dad’s deputies,” Stiles points out. “Even aside from the werewolves, there are a few who were in the military, and would probably qualify.”

Moira nods grimly. “Just so, we must bring all of our forces to bear if we’re going to stop the Darach before they complete the cycle.”

It turns out that setting traps along the ley lines is hard, tedious work, and magically exhausting. By the time Noelani deems them finished, Stiles is ready to drop, so tired that Moira insists on driving him home.

“I can collect my car later,” she insists. “You need to sleep.”

Stiles somehow stumbles up the stairs and to his bedroom, Batman tugging at the leash to spur Stiles on. He face plants in his bed and is out for the count until he’s gently nudged awake by his dad.

“Hey, kiddo, both the pizza and Sabra are here,” his dad says. “You sure you’re up for this?”

Stiles groans and rolls over. “Yeah, I think so. Let me just splash some water on my face, and I’ll be fine.”

He slips off Batman’s vest, since he’d been too tired to do that when they arrived home, and says, “You’re off duty, bud.”

Batman licks his face and then races downstairs, probably excited to hear all of his favorite people—not to mention how excited he usually gets over the scent of pizza.

Stiles stumbles to the bathroom and washes his face in cold water, hoping it will wake him up, before heading downstairs. Scott, Erica, and Cora are seated on the couch, and Scott and Erica move to make room for Stiles between them.

Derek is leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, and the scowl on his face is one that Stiles hasn’t seen in a long time.

The pack is all here, Cora has been integrated, there’s pizza on the horizon, everyone is getting along—

Who the hell had pissed in Derek’s Cheerios?

More than ever, Stiles is convinced that there’s something up. It’s just a niggling feeling, a sense of the pack bond being different. Less obvious than it had been with Scott, once Stiles had noticed, but still there. Just a sense of wrongness.

Sabra clears her throat. “This will be our last session. I want to thank all of you for your participation. I feel like we’ve gained a lot of ground. Stiles, how do you feel about where we are?”

Stiles opens his mouth to ask Derek who’d done him dirty, but then thinks better of it. He’s certain that whatever is up, it’s not something Sabra can fix. Therefore, this is not an appropriate setting for the discussion. It will have to wait until tomorrow, when Alana and Noelani are present, and can get a good look at him.

So, Stiles just says, “I think we’re good.”

Sabra goes around the room, ending with Noah, “And how do you feel, Alpha?”

“I feel as though we can handle whatever gets thrown at us, as long as we stick together,” Noah replies.

Sabra smiles warmly. “That’s the promise of pack. Now, let’s eat.”

~~~~~

Derek feels uncomfortable around the rest of the pack, although he can’t put his finger on why. He keeps wanting to check his phone to see if Jennifer has texted, but he knows that would only draw suspicion. The only ones he ever really texts are Jennifer, Parrish, and the pack, and Jennifer has to stay a secret.

Why she has to stay a secret is not something Derek could answer; it’s also not a question that consciously crosses his mind. He just knows it to be true.

With everyone distracted and eating pizza, Derek can check his phone, seeing confirmation of their in-person meeting tomorrow, their third. They’d met for coffee once, then for lunch, but this time she’d proposed meeting in the hotel lobby for drinks and…

Well, whatever came after drinks.

“What is going on with you?” Cora demands, popping up in front of him. “You’ve been grumpy all night, and you were the one who told me that I needed to find a way to get along.”

“I’m fine,” Derek replies with a definite growl. “Mind your own business.”

Cora draws back, her expression stung. “Jeez, okay, fine.”

She stomps off, and Derek feels a moment of guilt, but it’s quickly squashed. Cora doesn’t need to be involved in this, and she’s nosy. If Derek let on to the fact that he has a girlfriend, she’d have too many questions.

Derek spots the rest looking at him oddly, and he stomps out to the back deck, feeling the need for some air.

He knows that someone is likely to come check on him, but he doesn’t care. He just needs some space.

Derek is starting to regret staying with the Sheriff; he shouldn’t have turned his apartment over to Boyd and Isaac. If he hadn’t, he and Jennifer wouldn’t have to resort to getting a hotel room.

“Something you want to talk about, Derek?” Noah asks as he pokes his head outside.

“No,” Derek says definitively. “Just working through some stuff.”

Noah is pretty good about giving Derek his own space, so he just says, “All right. You know where to find me if you need me.”

Derek barely holds back the, “I won’t,” which is his first response, largely because he knows that will only arouse the Sheriff’s suspicions. “Thanks,” is what he lands on.

The back door closes, and Derek wonders if it will make things worse if he texts Jennifer, asks to move up the timetable, and meets her tonight. Then he realizes that it likely will, because it would be out of character for him.

But he can go for a run, and maybe that will help clear his head, and quiet the simmering anger in his gut.

Derek is already dressed in joggers and a t-shirt, and he’s wearing his tennis shoes, so he doesn’t say anything to anyone, just starts running.

He probably runs ten miles before he feels like he can stand to be around the rest of the pack again. Even though it’s late, it’s also a Friday night, and the younger members tend to bed down at the Sheriff’s house for a sleepover.

When he enters the house, it turns out that he’s right on the money. The kids are all in the living room, watching some cartoon on the TV, and the Sheriff’s car is parked in the driveway. Derek can track his heartbeat to the bedroom, so Noah is probably getting some sleep while he can.

Derek decides to do the same, and he heads up the stairs. “Hey, Der? You okay?”

That’s Stiles, and Derek wants to snap at him. There’s something about Stiles’ earnestly concerned tone that just pisses him off, but Derek knows he has to keep up appearances. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Okay,” Stiles replies, drawing out the word slowly, his face cast in half-shadow, somehow making him look much older than seventeen. “It’s just that you haven’t used that tone of voice with me in over a year now.”

Something inside Derek softens, remembering the moment that Stiles had gone from “annoying little shit” to “pack.” “What tone is that?”

“It’s the ‘you’re lucky I’m not ripping out your throat with my teeth’ tone,” Stiles says wryly.

“I’m just…” Derek trails off, because he doesn’t know what he is or isn’t right now. “Feeling out of sorts for no reason.”

Stiles shrugs. “You’re allowed. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

And then he turns to go back to the living room, leaving Derek to feel pissed off all over again, and guilty for being pissed off, when Stiles hasn’t done anything wrong.

Still, he goes to bed, and that night he dreams of fire and claws that rend and tear, and a nightmarish visage.

Without thinking about the why—and Derek has been oblivious to both the why and the fact that he isn’t thinking about the why—he sneaks out of the house. The kids are all in the kitchen, and it sounds like they’re fighting over pancakes and bacon. Derek figures he can grab fast food, then take a drive, since he still has a few hours before meeting Jennifer.

At least this way, he doesn’t have to tell anybody where he’s going.

Of course, he should know better than to try to fool the Alpha, because his phone vibrates with a text from Noah. You’re an adult, so I won’t ask where you were going like your tail was on fire, but you’re expected at the pack dinner tonight. We’re meeting Noelani and Alana.

Derek knows a command performance when one is ordered, and he also knows that it would take a lot for him to disobey a direct order from his Alpha. He sends a quick copy that in response.

Without even really thinking about it, Derek drives to the Preserve and parks near one of the trailheads. The trail takes him past his house, which is due to be razed in a month’s time, although he can’t really see it through the trees.

That’s not his end goal, though, and he moves purposefully deeper into the Preserve, although he couldn’t have articulated where he was going.

And then he’s standing in a clearing, in front of a huge stump, and Derek can feel something within it calling to him.

He takes one step forward, two, and something whispers in the back of his mind, Don’t you want vengeance? Don’t you want justice?

Another step, and then Derek stops or is stopped, feeling as thought he’s run into a wall. Or maybe it’s a sticky pool, where he could force his way through if necessary, but—

The wall feels like Stiles and Moira, and Derek—some part of him, anyway—knows that it would be stupid to force his way through to something they’d clearly marked as being off limits.

Derek steps back, and he realizes that he’s panting, as though he’d just put forth great exertion, and he feels slightly sick to his stomach. He also realizes that he’s been in the clearing a lot longer than he thought, because it’s past time for him to leave to meet Jennifer, and he’s going to be late.

He checks his phone and sees a couple of texts from her, asking to confirm their meeting, which he quickly responds to in the affirmative, letting her know he’s running behind. Parrish had also texted, wanting to know if Derek wanted to get some range time, and Derek asks for a rain check.

No one in the pack had reached out, and Derek feels… He doesn’t know how he feels about that. But then he shoves it aside, because his priority is Jennifer.

Derek has to drive an hour to meet her. She’s staying at a hotel in Georgetown, at the very edge of the county, and Derek pulls up in front and enters the lobby. It’s not very fancy, the sort that a lot of families might stay at as a stopover on their way somewhere more interesting to break up a long drive.

There’s a small lounge area with a few chairs, and Jennifer is sitting there with a book, clearly waiting for him. She’s wearing a blue dress that matches the color of her eyes, and Derek doesn’t think he’s been so attracted to anyone since Kate.

“Derek, I’m so glad you could make it,” she says warmly. The quick, welcoming kiss holds a hint of heat, and even though they had said they’d just get a drink and see where the day took them, Derek knows they’re going to wind up in her room.

“I’m glad I could as well,” Derek replies. “It’s good to see you.”

“You, too.” She puts her arm through his. “I think the hotel bar is open, if you want to get a drink and just chat for a bit.”

Derek likes that she’s not rushing things, and that they’d taken the time to get to know each other over text before jumping into bed.

He doesn’t drink much, but he asks for a gin and tonic. Jennifer orders a glass of wine. “How are classes going?”

Derek shrugs. “They’re going well. We’re halfway through the second module, and once we finish that, we’ll be able to serve as reserve deputies. That won’t mean anything exciting, but at least we’ll start to get our feet wet.”

Jennifer squeezes his forearm. “A deputy, huh? I’m sure the uniform will look good on you.”

Normally, a comment like that, a touch like that, would make him uncomfortable. From Jennifer, it’s welcome. “I’d like to give back to the community. I think it’s what my parents would have wanted, my mom especially.”

For a moment, her expression darkens, but then she smiles, and Derek can almost believe he’d imagined it. “I’m sure she would be very proud of you.”

He’d spoken of his family dying in a fire, and she’d expressed her sympathy, so Derek lets that pass. “What about you?”

“Well, I was hoping to get hired on as a teacher in Beacon Hills, to be honest, but there weren’t any openings,” Jennifer replies with a pout. “But I found a spot here in Georgetown. I enjoy the work, and the students. I love it when I can spark the love of reading.”

She’s left her hand on his arm, and Derek feels the heat build. “It’s great that you get to do that. It sounds very rewarding.”

“It is,” she replies. “But enough about me. Tell me more about—what’s his name? Stiles? He’s the sheriff’s son that you’re so close to, right?”

Derek pulls back slightly, faint alarm bells going off in his head. “Stiles is just Stiles.”

“Surely there has to be something special about him,” Jennifer presses.

Derek has no intention of telling her anything about Stiles, but then his mouth opens, and he says, “Stiles grows on a person, and his skills are useful to the pack.”

“And what sort of skills would a human have to aid a pack of werewolves?” she asks, and there’s a touch of derision in her voice.

There’s a small voice in the back of Derek’s head hissing shut up shut up shut up this is Kate all over again shut up, but then it falls silent. “He’s, he’s a magic user.”

“A druid?” Jennifer asks.

“No, just a regular magic user,” Derek replies, finding that he can’t quite force the term spark out of his mouth. He’s feeling almost like he’s being torn in two, and he can’t understand why.

Jennifer hums. “And what about his teacher? His coven?”

“Also regular magic users,” Derek replies. “I really don’t know anything about what they do. I don’t know why you’re asking.”

The pressure eases, and Jennifer smiles at him again, and suddenly all is right in the world. “I’m sorry, baby,” she replies. “I shouldn’t have pushed so hard. Why don’t we go up to my room?”

Derek is less inclined to do so now than he had been when he arrived, but then Jennifer leans closer, her breasts pressed against his arm, and she whispers in his ear, “I’m going to show you such a good time.”

Derek feels the heat return, and he gives in. After feeling that internal pressure, this is the path of least resistance, and he wants the relief.

Jennifer tosses a couple of bills on the bar to cover their tab, then grabs Derek’s hand to lead him to the elevator. Derek feels as though a fog has descended over his brain; he almost feels drunk, or what he imagines being drunk feels like, given that he’s never experienced it.

Once they reach her room, Jennifer turns her back to him, inviting him to unzip her dress. The blue fabric falls to the floor, leaving her in a lacy bra and thong a shade lighter than the dress itself.

“You’re overdressed,” she says as she turns around, pushing Derek’s leather jacket off his shoulders. It lands on the floor with a thump, and she immediately tugs his t-shirt off over his head.

Boots are next, then his belt and jeans, until Derek is left in just his underwear. Everything feels like it’s moving too slowly and too fast all at once. He opens his mouth to ask if they can take their time, but then her mouth is on his, and he forgets what the question had been.

He forgets that he has a dinner to get to, forgets that they’re in the middle of what might be considered an emergency and his phone is on silent, in his jeans pocket.

Derek forgets that he should put on a condom, if not while she’s blowing him, then certainly when he fucks her—which he is just about to do after returning the favor and eating her out.

She’s stretched out on the bed, looking smug and sated, her eyes glittering coldly, and Derek doesn’t understand how she can be so cold and so warm at the same time. “I think you can probably give me at least two more orgasms, don’t you?” she asks. “I like things in threes.”

And suddenly Derek feels as though he’s been hit with a bucket of ice water, and he remembers all the things he had somehow forgotten.

He has to get home. He has a pack dinner. Noah is waiting for him, and he’s going to be pissed.

Derek doesn’t reply to Jennifer, instead rolling off the bed and immediately beginning to pull on his clothing, leaving her stunned.

“What are you doing?” she asks. “I thought we were having fun!”

“I have to get home,” Derek replies, yanking on his jeans, shoving bare feet into his boots. He doesn’t have time to find his socks, not right now. Not when he has to get home.

Jennifer sits up with narrowed eyes. “Is this about Stiles?”

Derek glances at her, startled, once he pulls his t-shirt on. “No, it’s—“

Why had he told her anything about Stiles? What had he told her about Stiles? About the pack?

He can’t quite remember.

“I have a dinner with my future boss,” Derek says. “And I’m pretty sure I’m already late.”

He checks his phone and sees the reminder text from Noah, and another from Cora, demanding to know where he is, and why he’s being such a jerk. “I am late, which doesn’t leave a great impression.”

Apparently, that had been the right response, because her glare turns into a pout. “Tell me that we’re going to see each other again.”

“Sure, of course,” Derek says mechanically. He can’t really think straight right now; he’s not thinking straight right now. Going straight from the fog of lust into the sure knowledge that he’s late, the pack is waiting on him, and he’s not fulfilling his role as right hand.

He just has to get home, and he’s willing to tell Jennifer whatever she wants to hear if it means he can get out of there that much faster.

“I’ll text you,” Derek says as he shrugs on his jacket and heads for the door.

A voice in the back of his head says, Get home, but don’t speed, and it sounds like Stiles or maybe Noah, possibly both.

He just has to get home, that’s all, and then he can apologize profusely.

~~~~~

Noah knows something is up with Derek; he’s not acting like himself. In fact, he’s acting a lot like Stiles had when he was trying to keep his and Scott’s secret.

The difference is that Stiles is his kid, and Derek is a grown man, and Noah isn’t entirely clear where the boundaries are supposed to lie.

As Sabra had been leaving, Noah walked her out under the guise of being a good host, and asks, “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” Sabra replies. “Although I’m curious as to why you couldn’t ask it in front of your pack.”

“It’s just information for me,” Noah says. “And maybe some advice for how to deal with certain pack members.”

Sabra’s eyebrows go up. “You mean Derek.”

Noah sighs. “I know how to treat my deputies, even the pack members. They’re fully grown adults, and if they do something to jeopardize the pack, I’ll call them into my office and tear them a new asshole. I generally know how to treat the kids. I can’t treat them exactly like Stiles, but it’s a similar relationship.”

Sabra nods. “But Derek is different.”

“He’s an adult, but I have a hard time seeing him as much more than a kid,” Noah admits.

“He’s young enough to be your child,” Sabra reminds him, which causes Noah to grimace, knowing that she’s right. “But you know that you have to treat him like an adult.”

“And that’s much harder to do when he’s clearly hiding something,” Noah replies.

He can’t help but think of Kate Argent, and how she’d gotten her hooks into a teenage Derek. Had he acted like this then? If Talia were around, would she recognize the signs in her son?

Not that Noah thinks that Kate Argent or the hunters are behind any of this. Gerard is dying in a prison infirmary, and Kate is currently in solitary confinement. Allison and her parents are two towns away, just inside the county line, as required by the terms of her bond.

He keeps very careful track of all the Argents, and gets twice-weekly updates.

“Even the members of a pack are allowed to make mistakes, Noah,” Sabra replies. “And if Derek is unwise in who he loves, he’s allowed. It’s when he puts the pack at risk that you’ll have to put a stop to it. I recommend keeping an eye on him, letting him know which pack activities are not optional, and making your expectations clear.”

“And then tearing him a new one in private if it turns out that he’s put the pack in danger,” Noah says.

Sabra shrugs. “I think that’s all you can do. That, and let him know that fucking up isn’t going to change his spot in the pack, or how you feel about him being in the pack.”

Noah can’t disagree with her. “All right. Thanks for the advice.”

“That’s what I came here for,” Sabra replies. “But for what it’s worth, you have a strong pack. You might have a few more growing pains to get through, but I think you’ll be just fine.”

Noah is thinking about her words as everyone gathers for dinner. The Mahealanis turn up with a platter piled high with grilled chicken, as well as a large bowl of some kind of salad. Boyd and Isaac bring chips and salsa—store-bought, but Noah gives them points for trying. Moira and Stiles have put together several different salads, and Noah has the grill ready for burgers and brats.

Erica and Cora are pitching in, and his deputies have volunteered to stay at the station just in case something comes up, so it’s supposed to just be what Stiles likes to call the “home pack” tonight.

And everyone is there other than Derek.

Noah texts him. I wasn’t kidding about the mandatory dinner tonight.

He can see the message go through, but there’s no response, even after five minutes, and it’s left unread. That’s unlike Derek, especially when there’s an emergency, and Noah pokes his head into the kitchen and beckons Stiles out to the backyard.

“Do you have a line on Derek?” Noah asks.

Stiles frowns. “No, not really, just that he’s not in town, and he’s with someone else, but that’s it.”

Noah had made certain to get Parrish’s number, so he texts him next. Parrish responds right away. I asked Derek if he wanted to get some range time, but he requested a rain check. Didn’t say what he was doing, though.

Derek might be an adult, but this is when Noah has to trust his gut. “Can you find him, Stiles?”

Stiles blinks. “Um, I don’t know? Can we track his phone?”

“I don’t have his log in information, and it’s going to take too long to get it,” Noah admits. “At least, I think it’s going to take too long.”

Stiles frowns, drumming his fingers against his leg, his other hand resting on Batman’s head. “Let me get Moira.”

Moira joins them in the backyard, and Noah simply says, “We need to find Derek. I have no proof, but my gut says that he’s in danger.”

“You should always trust your gut,” Moira agrees. “Stiles, you can follow the pack bond, even over a distance.”

“I know I can,” Stiles replies. “But what does that get us?”

Moira hesitates. “You could plant a compulsion.”

Stiles closes his eyes. “You mean like Peter did to Scott when he was first bitten.”

“Something like that,” Moira agrees. “Or the way I fixed Jackson. It’s not something I would suggest lightly, but you’re probably the only one with the power, and the connection to Derek, that could overcome whatever has him in its grip right now.”

“You think it’s the Darach,” Stiles says flatly. “But what would the Darach want with him?”

Moira blows out a breath. “Information? They would have to know that there’s a coven, and someone with power here.”

“Would Stiles be a target?” Noah asks with a sinking feeling.

Moira just shakes her head. “Hard to say. If it were me, though, I would want to take out what I consider to be the biggest threat. That might be Stiles, or it might be the coven. They’re not going to want to face us head on, not before they’ve finished the full ritual.”

“So, we get Derek back here, figure out what the Darach has done to him, and then regroup,” Stiles says, his chin tipped up pugnaciously.

Moira nods. “Let me grab Noelani and Alana. We can at least provide you some cover, make the Darach think you’re acting in concert with the coven, and it’s not all your own power.”

“How are you going to do this?” Noah asks him.

Stiles shrugs. “I’m going to channel you, and basically yell at Derek to get his ass home. Beyond that, I have no idea.”

Noah can’t really argue that, nor can he stop the others from filtering into the backyard, clearly curious about what’s going on.

“Where’s Derek?” Cora asks. “Is this about him?”

“We don’t know where he is, and yes,” Noah replies. “Stiles is going to compel him to come home.”

Scott frowns. “How?”

“With my witchy powers,” Stiles says flippantly, but he wears a serious expression. “I just hope that he doesn’t end up hating me.”

“He won’t,” Noah predicts. “Because he would be here if he could, and so whatever is going on, it’s not something he wants.”

Noah doesn’t know that for sure, but he knows how important the pack is to Derek, and Derek isn’t one to disobey a direct order, so he figures it’s a safe assumption.

Having just watched the coven perform a ritual, he’s not surprised when the four of them take up the same positions, with Stiles standing to the north. They don’t sit down; rather, they all take hands, and Stiles looks to Moira.

“Just call Derek home, Stiles,” Moira advises. “And put some power behind it. We don’t want to give the Darach a chance to counter.”

“Will this cause her to start the next cycle sooner?” Stiles asks.

Moira shrugs. “Perhaps, but we knew she would be starting it soon anyway, so don’t worry about that. We can’t assess the situation or the damage until Derek is here.”

Stiles nods and closes his eyes. When he opens them again, they’re glowing beta-gold, and his voice resonates strangely when he says, “Come home, Derek. Right now. You’re late.”

He sounds angry, and Noah winces, hoping that doesn’t upset Derek too much. “Anything, Stiles?”

Stiles just shakes his head. “Come home, Derek, RIGHT NOW.”

The last two words are spoken on a roar, and then Stiles’ shoulders slump. “Okay, I think that got through, but I’m going to have to reinforce it until I know he’s far enough away from her that she can’t turn it around.”

“You’re sure it’s a woman?” Alana asks.

“Oh, yeah,” Stiles replies. “I picked up a few things through the bond, and we’re going to have some fallout from this, Dad. Maybe some major fallout.”

Noah raises his eyebrows. “Should I call Sabra, see if she can come back?”

Stiles shakes his head. “No. Call Jack. He made the offer at one point, and Derek said he’d at least think about it. Even if you have to insist on it as Derek’s Alpha, though, he’s going to need the therapy.” Stiles pauses. “Possibly all of the therapy.”

“I’ll call him,” Noah promises. He looks at Alana. “Does knowing the Darach is a woman help?”

“Considerably,” Alana admits. “Male emissaries are much more common. Male druids even more so than females. And most female druidic emissaries serve packs with female Alphas.”

“Meaning that we start with Kali’s pack and her emissary,” Noah replies.

Alana nods. “I already put some feelers out, but now that we have a better sense of direction, we can sift through the information that comes in far more easily.”

Stiles is chanting, “Come home, Derek, come home right now,” ignoring their conversation, and then he stops and sighs, adding, “Get home, but don’t speed.”

With that, Stiles drops to the ground, clearly exhausted, and Batman crawls into his lap. “I think we’re good. At least until Derek gets here, and then we’ll see how good we really are.”

“You need food,” Noelani says briskly.

“I’ll make him a plate,” Scott immediately offers. “Just stay put, Stiles.”

“Not planning on moving,” Stiles says with feeling.

Noah ruffles Stiles’ hair as he passes him on the way to the grill. “Who wants a brat?”

He’ll set aside whatever’s going on with Derek for now. For now, it’s enough to know that Derek will soon be right where he’s supposed to be.

~~~~~

What Stiles doesn’t say—what he can’t say to anyone other than maybe Moira and the rest of the coven—is that Derek had definitely been in the presence of the Darach. They already suspected as much, of course, but suspicion is not confirmation.

Stiles has confirmation, though. He’d felt the same rot through the bond that he’d experienced at Heather’s house, and he has no idea if the rot is at the base of the pack bond, or if it can be repaired.

He also caught a glimpse of Derek’s mental state through the bond, and Derek felt drugged to him, like he’d been magically roofied. Stiles understands that means that Derek hadn’t been engaging in sexual acts of his own free will, and probably hadn’t told the Darach anything of his own free will, which means that Derek got used by some evil bitch for information all over again.

Moira sits down next to him on the grass. Scott, who is clearly trying to make up for being a little bit of a dick, hands each of them a plate. “Let me know if I can get you guys anything else, or if there’s anything we need to do for Derek.”

Stiles watches him go. “Weird, or no?”

“That is a man who has decided to put the pack first,” Moira replies. “It’s the man that Scott was always meant to be. Watch.”

Stiles does, and sees Scott get a plate for himself, sitting down next to Cora, bumping her shoulder with his own. He says something that has Isaac cracking up, and then calls out to his dad, “Sheriff? Anything I can do?”

“You’re doing it, Scott,” his dad replies. “So, thank you.”

“What’s the role in the pack for someone who’s right-hand adjacent?” Stiles asks.

Moira shakes her head. “Not adjacent. Scott will be an Alpha one day, and the lessons he’s learning now will make him a better one.”

“How to make friends and influence people,” Stiles says. “How to get disparate personalities to work together. How to take care of people.”

Moira smiles. “Indeed. The only question is whether you’ll follow Scott as his emissary or stay with Noah’s pack.”

“My dad’s,” Stiles says definitely. “There’s no question.”

Moira nods. “You want to talk about what to expect when Derek does arrive?”

Stiles closes his eyes. “He’s maybe 45 minutes away now. He’s not speeding. In fact, he’s exactly on the speed limit. He might not speed again for days or weeks. Considering the power of the compulsion I planted, probably weeks.”

“You can dispel the compulsion easily enough,” Moira replies. “But that didn’t answer my question.”

Stiles sets his jaw. “You know what Kate Argent did to him?”

“I do,” Moira says.

“I think the Darach wanted information on me, and she approached Derek to get it,” Stiles says. “And then she made Derek feel things that he doesn’t actually feel, and she used him. When I broke through, they were having sex. Pretty sure she was getting power from it, too.”

Noelani drops down next to them. “She likely was, Stiles. Tell me, did you get a sense as to whether the ritual was completed?”

Stiles gives a full body shudder at that. It’s not as though he’s opposed to sex magic—in theory—as long as all parties are consenting, but using someone else in ritual without their express permission gives him the willies.

“In short, no, I don’t think so,” Stiles finally says when he’s able to contain his revulsion.

“The next cycle will start soon, then,” Alana says heavily.

“We already knew that it would,” Moira replies. “Clearly, she wanted to get a better lay of the land. We’ll find out what Derek told her. In the meantime, though, we need to set up a protective ward. Stiles, any suggestions?”

“Salt lines,” Stiles replies confidently. “But I suggest that we use heavily salted water and paint the lines on the deck. That way, if she still has a hold on him, he won’t see the lines and avoid them.”

Noelani smiles faintly. “Sneaky, I like it. Danny!”

Danny breaks off from the others and jogs over. “What is it, Tutu?”

“We need salt water and a paint brush,” Noelani replies.

“On it,” Danny replies easily.

Within ten minutes, Danny has a large bowl of hot water that’s cloudy with barely dissolved salt and a paint brush snagged from the garage. By now, the food has restored Stiles enough that he can at least stand and watch as Moira paints the salt lines on the deck—first a circle, then a pentagram inside the circle. She turns to Stiles. “What would be a symbol meaningful to Derek?”

Stiles hesitates, but Scott says, “The triskele.”

“Good call, Scotty,” Stiles admits. “You’ve been paying attention.”

Scott shrugs. “I feel like my head is clear for the first time in a long time to be honest.”

Moira paints the triskele in salt water, then turns to Stiles. “How much time do we have?”

Stiles closes his eyes. He’s not really tracking Derek by the pack bond right now, but by the compulsion he’d put on Derek through the pack bond. It’s a subtle difference, but an important one, because it keeps him at a slight remove from the Darach and the hooks she has in Derek.

“He just passed the city limit, so not long,” Stiles says. “I think the whole pack needs to be here for this, even though it’s magic.”

“Maybe especially because it’s magic,” his dad says. “The rest of the pack needs to see what you can do, Stiles. They need to understand how important it is to protect your secret.”

“Better grab a trash can or a bucket,” Stiles says to the group. “We’re going to have to purge, and it’s not going to be pretty.”

It’s not just the magic that they need to purge. Stiles knows that Derek is probably going to feel pretty sick when he realizes exactly what happened.

Cora grimaces, but she goes into the house and grabs a trash can, and Stiles says, “Okay, everybody act normal, I guess.”

There are some snorts from the group at that, but everyone goes back to the table where they’ve laid out the food for seconds or thirds, or to grab one of the cookies that Erica picked up from the bakery in town.

Stiles sprawls out in the grass, taking a position where he can see the back door, and Batman sits next to him, muzzle resting on Stiles’ thigh.

“What are you thinking, young spark?” Moira asks, sitting next to him cross-legged on the grass.

“I’m thinking that for all its wonder, and for all that I love it, there are parts of magic I could easily grow to hate,” Stiles admits. “This is one of them.”

Moira sighs. “I probably should have expected something like this, but to be honest with you, Noelani, Alana, and I have been throwing up big neon signs to make her think that we’re the ones with the real power. We expected her to come after one of us, not a werewolf.”

“And not with sex magic?” Stiles asks. “Because that’s the grossest part of this, Moira.”

“You’re not wrong, and…” Moira trails off. “It’s unusual. The fivefold death ritual is one that takes singular focus most of the time. She allowed herself to be distracted—or she has some other motive that we haven’t yet figured out. I think we have to let this play out, Stiles. We’ll just have to support Derek through it.”

Stiles shrugs and rubs Batman’s ears, knowing that there’s nothing else they can do. He feels it when Derek enters the house, though, and he can feel the dark taint of the Darach.

Moira grimaces. “She has her hooks into him, that’s for sure. My guess is that she didn’t spring the full trap until today.”

“I would have sensed it earlier,” Stiles agrees.

Noah pokes his head into the house. “We’re in the backyard, Derek,” he calls.

With that, the trap is neatly sprung, and Derek steps out onto the deck and stops cold once he’s in the center of the salt-lined pentagram. His eyes glow blue, and he lets out a roar that Stiles is pretty sure isn’t really coming from Derek.

It’s the Darach, realizing that her plan had been foiled.

“Do you remember how you renewed Scott’s pack bond?” Moira asks.

Stiles gives her a look. “It wasn’t that long ago, so yes.”

“You’re going to have to put some power into it to burn out the Darach’s taint,” Moira says. “We have to be sure there’s nothing of her left, or she could cause all the bonds to fray, or even rot.”

Stiles gets to his feet and puts a hand out. “Stay, Batman.”

Call him crazy, but Stiles doesn’t want his dog anywhere near this. He already knows that he’s likely going to pass out once he’s done. He’d used a lot of power just to compel Derek to come home and get him out of the Darach’s clutches.

Then he feels Danny’s hand land on his right shoulder. “I’m here. You can use me like a battery.”

Cora puts her hand on his left shoulder. “Me, too, if that’s even how it works?”

“We’re going to find out,” Stiles replies grimly. He knows that he can pull power from the earth and the ley lines, but he’s wary of doing so, not knowing how the corruption from the Nemeton will affect things.

But Danny’s primary affinity is fire, and Stiles can use that to burn out the Darach’s corruption. Cora is connected to Derek both through the pack bond and by blood, and Stiles can use that connection, too.

Stiles slams his hand onto Derek’s chest and says, “This might sting a bit.”

And then with a push, he sends his magic singing through Derek, into those hooks he can sense, and he burns them.

If nothing else, he hopes he burns the Darach, too.

He thinks he’s successful, but he doesn’t get the chance to check, because he’s out cold.

Chapter 5

Derek isn’t aware that there’s anything wrong, not really, until he steps out onto the back deck of the Sheriff’s house, and then it feels as though something is tearing at his insides. It’s agony, like he’s being torn apart. He’s not aware of much other than the pain, and then he hears Stiles say faintly, “This might sting a bit.”

Sting is not the word that Derek would have used. It feels as though his blood is boiling in his veins, and he hears himself scream before it’s suddenly over, and he’s curled up on the deck in a fetal position, his head in Cora’s lap. “What.”

He can’t even add an inflection to make it sound more like a question, he’s too tired.

Noah is leaning over Stiles’ still form, tapping his cheek, and Moira says wearily, “He’s fine. Probably best just to take him up to bed. He’ll sleep all night, and probably most of tomorrow. He’s exhausted, but there’s nothing else wrong with him.”

“We’ve got him,” Scott says, and he and Isaac get Stiles off the ground between the two of them, and haul him inside.

Derek is still trying to figure out what exactly had happened. The last thing he remembers is having this overwhelming need to get back to Noah’s house, but…

The memories slam into him, and he manages to roll off Cora’s lap before he starts to retch. Cora had apparently been prepared for that, because she pulls him up by the back of his jacket and shoves a trash can under his head.

Derek doesn’t have much in his stomach, so it turns to dry-heaving quickly, but a cool hand touches the back of his neck, and a soft voice murmurs some words that eases the nausea. Derek has no idea what Moira did, but he can at least catch his breath.

“Here, drink this,” another woman says, putting a cup of something under Derek’s nose.

He takes the cup with a shaking hand, and then begins to sip slowly. It tastes a bit like mint, and between the drink, the cool compress on the back of his neck, and whatever those words had done, Derek’s stomach settles.

Derek no longer wants to throw up, but he still feels sick. Jennifer had done the same thing Kate had done—used him for information on the pack, specifically Stiles. The fact that he hadn’t wanted sex makes it even worse.

“This wasn’t your fault, Derek,” Moira says insistently, crouching down next to him. “She used magic on you, and you had no defense.”

Derek shakes his head. “She asked about Stiles. She wanted to know what his power levels were. I don’t think I told her the truth, but I’m not sure.”

“You didn’t,” Moira replies. “She probably would have been knocking down our door if you had. Hopefully, she believes that a full coven compelled you to return home. What’s the last thing you remember?”

“She, um, she wanted to go for three orgasms, and said she liked things in threes,” Derek admits with a grimace, “and then it was like I got hit by a bucket of ice water.”

Moira chuckles. “That was Stiles.”

“Is he okay?” Derek asks.

Moira nods. “He’ll be fine after some sleep. Come on, let’s get you up, and we’ll make sure he got the job done.”

Danny is also drinking something that his mom had pressed into his hand, looking a little pale. Cora helps him up, but she’s looking tired, too. “Are you okay?”

“I provided some power to Stiles,” Cora replies. “But I feel fine now that you’re back to normal—or as normal as you’re ever going to be.”

She’s teasing, but Derek winces. “Yeah.”

“Don’t be so glum, big brother,” Cora replies. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Derek sits down on the steps, and Moira sits down next to him, a gentle hand on his chin, tipping his head to the side and looking into his eyes. “Okay, you’re clear. You don’t need to go into additional details about this afternoon, but do you know when she was able to get to you?”

“It was when they ran into each other when Derek was taking me shopping for school,” Cora says. “I remember thinking it was weird, because Derek doesn’t really give his number out.”

Derek sighs. “Now that I’m thinking straight, she approached me a couple of times before that, but—I think she looked different.”

“That woman who approached you in the coffee shop?” Erica asks.

Derek nods. “And again when I was out with Parrish.”

“She’s been planning this for a long time, then,” Moira replies. “Do you remember if she touched you this last time when she approached you?”

Derek shakes his head. “I don’t. It’s a little fuzzy. But I do remember feeling a jolt at the grocery store when I was alone one time. I didn’t actually see her, though.”

“She probably got scared off with the presence of the other pack members, and then Parrish,” Noah says grimly. “She couldn’t actually make a move until she got you alone.”

“We’ll know more once we figure out her true identity,” Alana states. “Derek, it would be helpful if we could get access to your text messages. We might be able to track her using those.”

Derek pulls his phone out of his pocket and willingly hands it over. “Do whatever you want with it. I’ll probably get a new phone, and a new number.”

“You don’t need to get a new phone,” Noah says. “But I think a new number is wise. We can remove the SIM card and get all the information we need.”

Alana pulls a paperclip out of her pocket and deftly removes the SIM card. “I can work with this, and I think we’d better get started right away. We have enough information to make some educated guesses, and I think she’ll start the next cycle soon, especially since she’s likely to need the power. I suspect Stiles did some damage to her.”

Moira nods. “I agree. She’ll need to start the cycle to get back on track.”

“So, we discover her real identity, and then we do another true seeing,” Noelani says. “We all know the best time for that is when she’s in the middle of the ritual.”

This is all news to Derek, but he keeps his mouth shut. He’s finished his drink, but he’s not hungry, still feeling queasy at what the Darach had been able to do.

Noah sits down next to him and puts an arm around his shoulders. “Derek, this wasn’t your fault, and no one blames you.”

“I blame me,” Derek mutters. “She used me.”

Noah’s arm tightens. “Is that what you’d say to a woman who was roofied?”

Derek blinks. “No, of course not.”

“Apply that same logic to yourself,” Noah advises. “You got magically roofied, Derek.”

Derek rests his forehead on his knees, feeling his shoulders begin to shake.

He hears Noah say, “Let’s get everything cleaned up, kids.”

It’s a thinly veiled request to disperse, and Derek is grateful for the privacy as everyone starts clearing things away. Noah keeps his arm where it is, and Derek just allows himself to fall apart in the presence of his Alpha. He looks back over the last couple of weeks, and he just can’t figure out what he’d been thinking or feeling.

He loves the pack; he loves his pack mates, even when they drive him crazy. Derek remembers being annoyed and dismissive of all of them, but especially Stiles, and he can’t figure it out.

“I’m sorry,” Derek mutters. “I’m really sorry. I think I was a dick, and I can’t figure out why.”

“The reason that someone uses roofies is because they can’t get they want without altering the victim’s state of mind. That was you, Derek. She couldn’t get what she wanted out of you any other way.”

Derek shakes his head. “But why me?”

He doesn’t ask “why me again?” but it’s implied.

Noah pauses, and finally says, “I could give you any number of platitudes, but it boils down to the reason that anyone is a victim of a crime. It’s about opportunity, and choosing the person who has something that you want. The only other people close enough to the home pack to give her those answers would be one of the boys, or possibly Dave.”

Derek understands the implication. Dave is most sincerely gay, and is in a relationship with Paul, and her other targets were minors. “Better it was me, then,” Derek says hoarsely.

“I’d rather it not have been anyone, but I can’t disagree,” Noah replies. “That said, I’m going to make an appointment with Jack on your behalf, and I would like for you to go.”

Derek nods. “I’ll go.”

“Good,” Noah replies. “What else do you need from me?”

“Can I see Stiles?” Derek asks. “I just—I need to make sure he’s okay.”

“Of course,” Noah replies. “Go on up.”

Derek avoids the eyes of the rest of the pack members as he moves through the kitchen and up the stairs. Stiles’ door is closed, but when Derek opens it, Batman is on the bed next to Stiles, and his head comes up.

Batman stares at him for a long moment, and Derek wonders if the dog is going to warn him off, but Batman just whuffs and lays back down.

Derek sits in Stiles’ desk chair and studies Stiles’ still face. He can remember feeling like he wanted Jennifer so badly, but in retrospect, those feelings had been manufactured, not real. He would have fucked her without a condom, and Derek—he feels sick at the thought.

In a very real way, Stiles had saved his life. Again.

There are dark circles under Stiles’ eyes, but he seems to be sleeping peacefully, so at least there’s that. Jennifer had tried to get information out of Derek that might have hurt Stiles, but he hadn’t given it to her.

Derek might have been hurt, but the rest of the pack is safe.

“I see you’ve figured it out,” Moira murmurs as she slips into the room, resting a hand on Derek’s shoulder. “You may bear these scars, but you won’t bear them alone, and you kept the rest of the pack safe.”

“She really wanted to know if he was a spark, I think,” Derek murmurs, not wanting to wake Stiles. “She kept pushing, but there was something inside that was fighting her, at least on that.”

Moira rubs his back. “You did good. I know it might not feel that way right now, but you protected the rest of the pack, and that’s what a good right hand does.”

She pauses. “And I am sorry, Derek. I never expected her to deviate from the five-fold knot ritual to do what she did.”

Derek glances up at her. He doesn’t know her as well as perhaps Stiles and Noah do, but he knows that she would have prevented this if possible. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think you can predict the future.”

“It’s not one of my gifts, no,” Moira says with a sad smile. “Although, I have known a couple of people who could, and it tends to drive them crazy.”

“Not surprising,” Derek admits. “I imagine if you can see the future, and can’t change it, that would be a little frustrating.”

“That’s one word for it,” Moira says. “Come, let’s leave Stiles to sleep. We’ll talk about what we’re going to do next.”

Derek steps out of the bedroom, and Moira follows, closing the door softly behind her. They go downstairs, and to Derek’s surprise, Erica steps right up to him. “Hug or no?”

“Yes to the hug,” Derek replies immediately.

Erica hugs him tightly, and Derek sighs. Cora says, “Coming up from behind.”

The hugs from his pack-mates feel so different than Jennifer’s touch. It’s a balm, and it feels like home.

Scott is next, which is a bigger surprise, and then Isaac and Boyd. Derek can feel the pack bonds thrumming between them, full of acceptance and love, the feeling he hadn’t received after the fire that had been at least partially his fault.

And under it all, Derek can feel Stiles in a way that he hadn’t before, not even when the pack bond had been new.

He resolves to ask someone about it later, probably Moira or Stiles, but he doesn’t mind. He has a feeling that if the Darach tries anything with him again, Stiles is going to know immediately.

“All right, let’s all have a seat,” Noah says, and motions to everyone to sit around the living room. With the Mahealanis, there’s barely enough room. “I think you’ll all understand why I’m instituting the buddy rule until we can stop the Darach.”

There are nods all the way around.

“Good,” Noah says. “Moira, is there anything you can do?”

Moira hesitates. “No, unfortunately. Once Stiles is awake, we can discuss other options that might be a little more out of the box, but the Darach knows about the coven, and she knows how to counter us.”

“Magic can do many things, but it cannot do anything,” Noelani adds. “Adding Stiles to the mix changes that, because he has unique abilities, but we’re still up against someone who’s very powerful. She managed to mute the pack bond, and it wasn’t obvious until she’d sprung the full trap.”

Alana nods. “She’ll be most vulnerable during the next cycle. We may be able to catch her unaware at that point.”

“But we’ll try to track her down using the data we got from Derek and his phone,” Alana says.

Noah nods. “We have equipment back at the station that might help.”

Alana laughs. “I have plenty of equipment at home, Noah. I run my own computer forensics consulting business. I’ll be just fine.”

“I come by my talents honestly,” Danny jokes, and that breaks the tension. “And my mom is the best.”

Noah raises his eyebrows. “I’m well aware of that, Danny. Do you think I’d entrust this to just anyone?”

Alana laughs again. “I should have known. I’m not offended. I would expect you to check up on me and my business.”

“It’s my kid,” Noah replies. “And my pack. I want to stop this person as much as anyone.”

“We’ll stop her,” Moira says with assurance. “One way or another.”

Derek is a little afraid of what “one way or another” might mean, but this isn’t the first time that the pack has faced a serious threat, and he knows that they’ll manage to overcome it.

He just doesn’t know what the fallout will be along the road.

~~~~~

Stiles is still out cold the next morning, and Noah doesn’t want to leave Stiles or Derek alone, so he does what any self-respecting Alpha would do and calls his left hand.

Dave shows up in ten minutes, fresh off a shift, but looking cheerful nonetheless. He’d asked for and received permission to bring Cocoa and Nibs, and he tells the dogs, “Quiet. Stiles is sleeping.”

Both dogs immediately sit and stare up at Dave lovingly, waiting for further instructions.

“Thanks for coming, Dave,” Noah says. “Alana said she was up all night working on this, and she has some information for me, and I don’t want Stiles or Derek to be alone.”

Dave nods. “Completely understandable, sir. I’m happy to hang out here. I’ll make sure Stiles gets something to eat once he’s up. Where’s Derek?”

“Still asleep, as far as I know,” Noah replies. “I asked him to stick around the house today.”

“Again, makes sense,” Dave replies. “Sounds good. We’ll play some video games, maybe watch some movies, no big deal.”

From there, Noah heads to the Mahealani house, where he finds the three women of the coven waiting for him. Danny is at school, along with the rest of the younger members of the pack, but Noelani offers him coffee, and Noah has to admit that it’s some of the best he’s had in a long time.

“What have we got?” Noah asks them, the same way he’d ask any of his deputies.

“It’s cute that he thinks he’s in charge,” Noelani says, smiling at him over her coffee cup.

“He is the Alpha of the territory, dear heart,” Moira replies.

Alana smiles brightly. “It’s still cute.”

Noah doesn’t remember how old he’d been when he stumbled on the book of Greek mythology, maybe eleven. He’d never been one for fantasy or fairy tales, but something about that book had captured his attention for a time. The three women before him now remind him of the Fates of Greek mythology; they’re just missing a maiden.

“You aren’t representations of the Fates, are you?”

“Now, that really is sweet,” Moira says. “But we’re missing a maiden.”

“Maybe you can recruit one?” Noah suggests.

Alana’s eyes narrow. “You know, we could put that out there. It would be a boost to our reputation.”

“And possibly a tempting target to our enemies,” Noelani replies. “Although, once the sanctuary is established, perhaps?”

“It’s a thought,” Moira agrees. “Alana?”

“Right,” Alana says. “I did a deep dive into Ennis and Deucalion’s backgrounds from the information you gave me. We didn’t have much on either, and even less on Kali, but that’s where I excel. From what you told me, and from what I was able to confirm from public records, Deucalion killed his entire pack after the incident with the Argents that resulted in him being blinded. Ennis killed his entire pack not long after Deucalion recruited him. Kali was the next to join, and I did some digging. Let’s go into my office.”

Noah is expecting something like his own office, a small room that isn’t being used for anything else, but what he gets is a fairly large office with multiple chairs and several flat screens, plus a small table where the four of them can sit.

Probably noticing Noah’s expression, Alana says, “It impresses clients.”

“It’s much bigger than I was expecting,” Noah admits.

“We had to sacrifice the home gym, but I think it’s a worthy sacrifice,” Alana replies. “This is what I have on Kali, including her real name.”

Kali’s picture shows up on the screen, and a name appears under the picture. “Her name wasn’t always Kali. Once upon a time, she was Callie Friedan. She’s a bitten werewolf, but she took to it like a champ. She murdered her own Alpha, maybe with reason, maybe not, hard to say. She took control, and eventually came to Beacon Hills during the summit that Talia Hale held, probably to seek direction. What she found was Deucalion.”

“He seduced her to the dark side,” Noah guesses.

“That’s the conclusion we can easily reach,” Alana agrees. “If there are other reasons, they died with her.”

“And her emissary?” Noah prompts.

“Julia Baccari,” Alana replies. “From what I’ve been able to dig up, they had a romantic relationship, and she was the first to be killed.”

“Do we have a death certificate?” Noah counters.

Alana nods. “We do, but there’s no autopsy report, and there should have been for someone killed in a violent manner.”

“If you have a violent Alpha werewolf out to kill you, I’d probably play dead as well,” Noelani comments. “That would have been well within her skills as a druid, and such a trauma could easily drive someone to seek revenge.”

“Sure, but that doesn’t explain why she’s targeting my pack,” Noah replies. “We took down the alpha pack. You’d think she would send me a fruit basket or something.”

Moira drums her fingers on the table. “We know her first contact—or attempted contact—with Derek was during the time we were being targeted by the alpha pack. It’s possible that she thought she needed Derek’s help with that, and you took them out before she could start the fivefold death ritual.”

“And if she’s invested so much into getting revenge, she might be upset to miss out on it,” Alana points out.

“Or she knows that you and your pack stands between her and the Nemeton, and that’s her ultimate goal at this point,” Noelani says. “Goals can shift as circumstances do.”

Noah frowns. “And then what?”

“She’d have a lot of power, and she could do whatever the hell she wanted,” Moira replies. “Also, she might just be crazy, and unable to change course at this point. This ritual is not undertaken by a sane person.”

“She could also have a vendetta against werewolves as a whole, considering that her former Alpha nearly killed her,” Alana adds. “Maybe she wants to eradicate the Hale pack, since Kali was in town for a summit called by Talia Hale, so far as we know. Her motivations are her own, and we can only make a plan knowing what her next actions are likely to be.”

“So, we know who she was, and we know who she’s pretending to be now,” Noah says, knowing that Alana is right. Whatever the motives, it doesn’t change what they have to do. “How do we connect those dots?”

“I called the hotel, and was able to convince them to tell me whether Jennifer Blake had checked out already, and she had,” Alana replies. “I also ran the name—both her current alias and her birth name—against property records, but I didn’t get a hit. If she’s smart, and she seems to be, she’ll have rented under a completely different identity.”

Another picture appears on the screen. “That’s what she looked like then, and I was able to convince the hotel to share a screen shot from their security cameras. This is what she looks like now.”

Some features are the same or similar—the hair and eye color are the same—but there are significant differences in the cheekbones and the shape of the jaw.

They don’t have a lot of options for tracking her down, but they at least have some idea as to who they’re looking for.

“So, we don’t have a current location—unless you were able to trace the phone number or IP address,” Noah sums up.

Alana shakes her head. “She used a burner, and I’m fairly certain she ditched it after Derek left, because I couldn’t trace it.”

Noah shrugs. “She’s played her cards right so far. I hate to say this, but it seems like we’re probably going to need to wait for the next cycle.”

“She’s going to use a lot of energy once that starts,” Moira agrees. “She’ll find it difficult to block us during the ritual itself. For that matter, it might take her several days to complete the next cycle, since I’m sure that Stiles hurt her.”

Noah has been a cop long enough to know that there are cases where you just have to wait for the next shoe to drop before you got a lead. Right now, they know the who, which is more than they had before, but they still have to find her.

“There aren’t any other leads?” Noah presses.

All three women shake their heads.

Noah doesn’t know enough about magic to contradict her, and he knows that Moira would prevent whatever deaths she can. If she thinks they have to wait for the next cycle to begin, he believes her. “I don’t suppose there’s a way of knowing when the next cycle will start before it does.”

“No,” Noelani says. “But we think it’s only going to be a matter of days, not weeks.”

Noah nods slowly. “Okay. I’ll put my deputies on alert to look out for anything out of the ordinary, but otherwise I’ll wait on you.”

“Noah,” Moira says in a gentle voice, and he already knows what she’s going to say. “Stiles is going to need to be involved.”

“Yeah, I know,” Noah says heavily. “I just hope that Stiles has enough time to recover from this last round.”

“We may get lucky in that regard,” Alana replies. “If Stiles hurt Julia—or Jennifer—as much as we think, it will be at least two days before she recovers enough of her strength to even attempt the next cycle.”

Noah scrubs his hand over his face. “Warriors, whatever that means.”

“It could mean a lot of things,” Noelani agrees. “But we’ll do our best.”

“That’s all we can do,” Noah replies. “Thank you all. I appreciate your assistance with this. I asked Dave to stay with Stiles and Derek today.”

“I’ll head over there as well,” Moira says. “Better safe than sorry.”

Noah heads to the station next, and he’s met by Tara, who’s on days with him. They’d determined that at least one of his deputies, who is also a pack member, should be on duty the same time as him.

“Dave texted me,” Tara says in a low voice. “How’s Stiles?”

“Sleeping,” Noah replies. “He exhausted himself.”

“And Derek?”

“He’s focused on the right things,” Noah says. “He didn’t give anything up of value, and she didn’t target the younger members of the pack, who might have been more vulnerable.”

Tara snorts. “If that boy doesn’t realize that he’s vulnerable…”

“I already contacted Jack on his behalf,” Noah says. “He said he could get Derek in today given the emergency nature, and Derek agreed that it’s necessary.”

Tara nods. “Good. Glad to hear that. Anything on the perpetrator?”

“Let’s go into my office,” Noah says.

Once they’re behind Noah’s closed door, Noah fills her in, including the information he has on the Darach, and the fact that they’re waiting for the next cycle to begin.

“Surely, we can do better than that,” Tara objects.

“You’re welcome to try,” Noah replies. “But we know how the last three murders took place. She was fast, and she left no trace at the actual crime scenes.”

“You know what? I can’t wait until the only problems we ever have are drug offenses and property crimes,” Tara mutters.

“Agreed,” Noah replies immediately. “But until that day, let’s put everyone on alert. She might make a mistake.”

Tara gives him a look. “She already did; she targeted our pack, and she’s going to pay for that.”

Noah can’t help but agree.

~~~~~

Derek settles down in front of the computer with a sense of trepidation. He probably should have had therapy after the fire, but who could he have seen? How could he have talked about the fact that his family had been targeted by a psycho? He and Laura didn’t have the resources or the contacts to find a therapist who understood the supernatural world.

Once again, Derek is grateful for Noah, and for the care he has for his pack, and the resources he’s willing to bring to bear.

He logs into the telehealth portal as directed, and a kind looking, bearded man’s face appears. “Hi, you must be Derek.”

“That’s me,” Derek replies.

“I’m Jack,” he says. “Unless you’re not comfortable using first names.”

Derek shakes his head. “No, I’m good with that. It’s what Stiles always calls you, and he speaks very highly of you.”

Jack smiles. “That’s always nice to hear. Now, just a couple of things to get out of the way. You’re my patient. I won’t share anything about our sessions with anyone else, including Noah and Stiles, unless I have your express permission, and only within the boundaries set by you. The reverse is also true for Stiles. Sound good?”

Derek nods. “Sounds good.”

“I understand that you went through a serious trauma,” Jack says gently. “Do you want to start there, or somewhere else?”

Derek looks away. “I don’t know if I can talk about it yet.”

“That’s fine,” Jack says immediately. “We can work our way up to it. How about we just take a reading? Tell me how you’re feeling right now.”

Derek swallows. “I feel like an idiot.”

“Why would you feel like an idiot?” Jack asks.

Derek shakes his head. “I should have known better, and I should have told someone.”

“Told someone what?” Jack presses.

“That I was talking to Jennifer,” Derek says. “I mean, I kept it a secret, and I should have thought about why I needed to keep it a secret.”

“Does it remind you of another experience?” Jack asks gently.

Derek grimaces. “I kept Kate a secret, too, and she killed almost my entire pack.”

Jack nods slowly. “Okay, let’s talk about Kate, because it seems like these two incidents are tied together in your mind. I have the bare bones from Noah, but I’d like to hear about it from your perspective.”

Derek takes a deep breath, still not used to talking about Kate. “I met her when I was fifteen, maybe sixteen, after my first girlfriend… Did Noah tell you about Paige?”

Jack chuckles, but the sound holds little humor. “Noah thought you might be in crisis based on the most recent experience, so I got about a ten minute download. I’m guessing there might be a little more than ten minutes worth of trauma.”

“More like ten years, but condensed,” Derek counters.

Jack smiles. “Okay, let’s start with Paige. Tell me about her.”

“Like, how she died?” Derek asks.

Jack shakes his head. “No, Derek. Tell me about Paige. How did she make you feel? What did you like about her?”

Derek blinks. “Why would you want to know that?”

“Humor me,” Jack says.

Derek has no reason to deny him, and he assumes that Jack knows what he’s doing. “Paige was—she was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. I wanted—I thought I wanted at the time—“

“Stop trying to justify your feelings,” Jack orders. “You were sixteen, and Paige was the most beautiful girl in the world to you. You wanted to be with her forever, yes?”

“Yeah,” Derek admits, remembering what it had felt like to love Paige. “I had butterflies every time I was around her. She probably shouldn’t have given me the time of day, because I was an idiot, and she wasn’t. Paige was smart, and musical, and kind, and I just wanted to keep her with me.”

Jack nods slowly. “Who suggested having an Alpha bite her?”

“My uncle, Peter,” Derek admits. “I keep looking back on that conversation, but I don’t understand—I think Peter was manipulating me, but I don’t know to what end.”

“Let’s set that aside for now,” Jack suggests. “Peter is dead, and his motives are his own.”

Derek nods. “Fair. I don’t think I ever really understood my uncle.”

“So, you asked an Alpha to bite Paige,” Jack says.

“And she had bite rejection,” Derek confirms. “She was dying, but I hastened her death.”

“I’m glad you put it that way,” Jack says. “You’ve processed that event, but I don’t think you processed what came next.”

Derek hisses sharply. “No.”

“Kate found you after Paige’s death,” Jack says.

Derek mechanically recites the details, that Kate found him while he was alone and kept finding a reason to bump into him. That she had flattered him, run hot and cold to string him along. He finds that describing what Kate had done allows him to separate it from Jennifer’s actions.

Kate had manipulated him, no question about it, and Derek is learning to forgive himself for that. But Jennifer—Jennifer had manufactured emotions that didn’t exist. He thought he’d loved Kate, but he hadn’t felt anything for Jennifer.

“You look like you’ve come to a realization, Derek,” Jack prompts.

“I felt something for Kate,” Derek admits after a moment to think about it. “She sucks, and it was stupid, but I had actual feelings for her. I didn’t feel anything for Jennifer. She just—used me.”

“And how does that feel?” Jack asks. “Better or worse? Keep in mind, there’s no right or wrong answer here.”

Derek shakes his head. “I don’t know. It was gross, but in a different way. When I was with Kate, it didn’t feel gross, but looking back, she was a predator. With Jennifer, it didn’t feel wrong in the moment, but it does now.”

He grimaces at the thought. “Is it something about me that keeps attracting these sorts of people?”

“Were these your only sexual encounters, Derek?” Jack asks, his expression sympathetic.

Derek shakes his head. “No, I’ve had a couple others.”

“Then I would perhaps suggest that you’re asking the wrong question,” Jack says. “In both cases, you were targeted because you had information that the perpetrator wanted. The fact that they chose to use sex to get it says more about them than it does about you.”

Derek sighs, but says, “Yeah, okay, I’ll try to take that on board.”

“Good,” Jack replies. “We’ll keep working on that.”

The rest of the session is spent talking through various strategies that Derek can use if he gets caught up in any kind of flashbacks. Derek schedules his next appointment for two weeks out.

“Please let me know if you need to talk before then,” Jack says. “I can make time.”

“I will,” Derek promises. “Thanks. This has been—more helpful than I thought it would be.”

Jack smiles. “Good. I’m glad to hear that, and I hope you continue to find it helpful.”

Derek shuts the laptop and heads to the kitchen to find Dave pillaging the cupboards for food. “You hungry?” he asks. “I figured I’d throw something together for Stiles when he wakes up.”

Derek is relieved that Dave doesn’t ask him about his therapy appointment. “I’m good, but thanks.”

Dave pulls out a few packages of ramen from the cupboard, and a carton of eggs from the fridge, as well as some veggies. “How are you feeling?”

“I don’t know,” Derek admits after a moment’s hesitation.

Dave nods. “Fair. You’ll let someone know if you’re not doing okay, and the pack can help, right?”

“I will.”

Derek’s phone vibrates with a text, and he sees the message from Parrish. You okay? Sheriff was looking for you.

He’s not sure how much to tell him, but he knows he has to tell Parrish something, so he replies, Tell you in person next time I see you, but yeah, I’m fine. Just a weird situation all the way around.

We should grab a beer soon, is the response, and Derek smiles as he tucks away his phone.

“Was that Parrish?” Dave asks, sounding amused.

Derek shrugs. “Yeah, he was checking up on me since Noah contacted him.”

“It’s good that you made a friend,” Dave teases.

“Shut up,” Derek replies, but without heat. He’s glad he made a friend, too.

“Do me a favor and cut up the green onions?” Dave asks. “I’m going to go up and check on Stiles.”

Derek doesn’t mind helping out. He’s just glad to be at home with his pack.

~~~~~

When Stiles wakes up, it’s as though he’s surfacing from deep, dark water. His eyes feel gummy, and Batman licks his face. “Hey,” Stiles says hoarsely. “I’ll bet you need to go out, huh?”

“I took him already.”

Stiles turns his head to see Dave sitting there. “And it’s my favorite deputy.”

Dave smiles. “How you doing, kiddo?”

“Honestly, I feel like I got run over by a truck,” Stiles admits, struggling to sit up. “How’d you get him to leave?”

“I have my secret weapons,” Dave replies, waving towards the door where Cocoa and Nibs are lying on the floor, watching the proceedings with interest.

“Are they guarding the door?” Stiles asks, managing to sit.

“They have to protect their BFF,” Dave says. “They know how to get the job done.”

Stiles chuckles weakly. “And Derek?”

“On a call with Jack, or at least he was five minutes ago,” Dave replies. “Your dad made an emergency appointment.”

“Thank god for that,” Stiles mutters. He’d been afraid that Derek would just shove everything down and not deal with it, but Stiles knows how important therapy is.

“Yeah, your dad is pretty great that way, and Derek respects him enough to give it a try,” Dave replies. “Are you hungry?”

Stiles realizes that he’s absolutely ravenous. “Uh, yes.”

“Good. I’ll finish getting lunch together,” Dave replies. “Is Batman still on duty, or can I release the hounds?”

Stiles laughs and pats Batman’s flank. “You’re free to go, buddy. Have fun with your friends.”

Batman whuffs and hops off the bed, sniffing first at Cocoa and then Nibs, and then all three look at Dave. “I’ve got the watch,” Dave replies. “Come on, and I’ll let you out. Maybe get cleaned up, Stiles?”

Dave waves his hand in front of his face as he leaves Stiles’ bedroom, and Stiles calls, “Oh, fuck you very much!”

That causes Dave to cackle, but Stiles knows he’s right. He can definitely smell himself—and it’s fear stench. Stiles had been fucking scared for Derek, and for the rest of the pack, and he’d touched the Darach’s magic.

Stiles hates her. A lot. He’s really hoping that he gets the chance to end her. He knows that he shouldn’t feel that way, but the Darach had already killed three people, one of them a friend, and she’d hurt Derek. Stiles is out for blood.

Or a swift ending. He doesn’t want to torture her; he just wants her to stop torturing them.

Stiles showers quickly, and gets into clean clothing. Once again, he’s missing school, but at least his teachers this semester are pretty cool about things.

When he enters the kitchen, Derek is sitting at the bar, looking wrung out, but he manages to smile at Stiles. “How are you feeling?”

Stiles shrugs. “Fine. Tired, but fine. What about you? Dave said you had therapy.”

“It was a good conversation,” Derek replies, and his tone does not invite further questions, but he smiles. “Thanks for being willing to share him.”

Stiles smiles. “Yeah, of course, dude. Jack is awesome, you’re pretty awesome when you’re not being remote controlled by some witch, I figured you could be even more awesome if you were together.”

Derek ducks his head. “I’m sorry.”

“No, you don’t get to do that,” Stiles snaps. “You don’t get to apologize for things that aren’t your fault. If the Darach wants to apologize, I’ll still kill her.”

Dave turns away from the pot he’s stirring. “Stiles!”

“I’m serious,” Stiles replies. “You think an emissary can’t make people’s heads explode? Because I can do that. Pretty sure, anyway.”

Dave frowns. “Yes, but I feel you should at least be eighteen before you have a license to kill.”

“Tell that to Kate Argent,” Stiles counters, and he can feel his irritation rising. “If I wasn’t going to use my magic to kill someone, maybe people should stop fucking with my pack!”

The light in the kitchen flickers, and Derek says slowly, “Hey, Stiles? You okay?”

Stiles realizes that his magic is suddenly very reactive, and he has no idea how to bring it under control.

“Miecyslaw Stilinski! What are you doing?”

Moira’s voice is enough to snap him back to reality, and Stiles pulls back hard. “Sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, young spark,” Moira replies, putting a cool hand on the back of his neck. “In some ways, your pack is just as important to you as it is to your father, and you’ve had a number of existential threats in a very short period of time. But you do need to dial it back.”

Stiles takes several deep breaths, trying to bring himself under control. He knows that Moira is right; between Heather’s death, Deaton eroding Scott’s pack bond, and then the Darach targeting Derek, Stiles is definitely on edge.

“That’s right,” Moira says, leaving her hand where it is on the back of his neck. “Just keep breathing.”

Dave is still giving Stiles a concerned look. “You cool?”

Stiles nods. “Yeah, sorry.”

“I get it,” Dave replies. “I kind of want to kill her, too, but you’re not quite grown yet, Stiles.”

“The coven will take care of the Darach,” Moira says firmly. “Stiles is part of the coven, but we don’t yet know what will be necessary to take her out. The end has already been determined, though.”

Dave nods. “A bit like we already knew how Deucalion was going to end, huh? Got it.”

Derek gets a Coke out of the fridge and passes it to Stiles. “Thanks.”

Stiles takes a long pull from the bottle as he leans against the kitchen counter. “For what?”

Derek just raises his eyebrows and doesn’t reply.

Stiles has a pretty good idea what Derek is thanking him for, but Stiles is not going to let Derek take the blame for being whammied. Derek’s even less to blame than Scott had been, and Stiles isn’t carrying any residual anger at Derek.

Granted, Stiles is pretty much over his anger at Scott now. The renewed pack bond, and Scott’s earnest attempts at making amends, have gone a long way to healing that breach.

“Soup’s on,” Dave announces.

Stiles is starving, and it turns out that Dave has jazzed up a few packages of ramen with some frozen vegetables and soft boiled eggs, among other things, and it’s both tasty and filling.

“This is good,” Stiles says.

Dave shrugs modestly. “I ate a lot of ramen in my day, and I figured out ways to make it interesting on a budget. It doesn’t take much.”

“Still, it’s really good,” Stiles replies. “Thank you.”

He eats two bowls, including four eggs, and feels about 100% better.

“A little hangry?” Dave jokes.

Stiles holds his forefinger and thumb about an inch apart. “Little bit, yeah.”

“Remember what I told you when I first became your teacher,” Moira says with a smile.

“Proper nutrition is important,” Stiles says dutifully. “I get it.”

“Good,” Moira says. “Remember, Stiles, you could do a great deal of damage without even meaning to if you don’t maintain the proper control.”

“No going off half-cocked,” Stiles agrees.

Not that Stiles has any intention of that. When they take care of the Darach, it will be with consideration and forethought.

~~~~~

Noah gets a text from Stiles. u going to be home for dinner?

He looks around at the piles of paperwork on his desk, and he knows the right answer to that question. He’d rather be at home with his kid and his pack, but if Noah doesn’t get a handle on his paperwork, it’s going to end up eating him alive.

I still have catching up to do. See you later tonight.

He gets a quick ok, and then puts his head down to work. It’s been about a week since the Darach tried to get at the pack through Derek, and it’s been quiet, but that’s not a comfort. Noah knows the next cycle is going to start at any time, and they can expect the next body to drop soon.

Noah had put a BOLO out on Julia Baccari and Jennifer Blake, but there have been no sightings. According to Moira, though, that’s to be expected. She’s probably changed her appearance to continue to fly under the radar.

“Anything I can do to help?” Tara asks, poking her head into his office. “Maybe grab some dinner?”

Noah’s stomach growls at that moment, and he smiles. “Yeah, that would be great. I just need to finish up some of his paperwork before I can head home.”

“Burger and fries?” Tara suggests.

“Make them curly fries, and you’re on,” Noah replies, fishing his wallet out to give her some cash.

Tara waves him off. “I got it, sir. Frankly, you’re a cheap date.”

That causes Noah to laugh as he goes back to his paperwork. When Tara returns some twenty minutes later with a greasy bag, she takes one of the seats across from his desk and starts working on some of the reports that a deputy can handle.

“This is why you’re my favorite deputy,” Noah jokes.

Tara grins at him. “Well, I have no interest in running, but one of these days, you might take a vacation, and I’ll be able to cover for you.”

Noah appreciates the sentiment. “Maybe once Stiles starts visiting various colleges, but we’ll see.” He can’t remember the last vacation he took, but he likes his job most of the time, and so doesn’t mind too much.

Still, if they can get past this thing with the Darach, maybe he should take the pack somewhere, even if just for a long weekend.

Tara leaves around ten, but Noah works until nearly midnight. He’s about to shut things down for the day, intent on getting home and getting some sleep, when his cell phone rings.

“Stilinski.”

“It’s Dave. We have another body,” he says. “Looks like it’s a student from the high school, Kyle Dawson.”

“A student?” Noah questions. “How does a kid fit the bill as a warrior?”

“I couldn’t say right now, sir, but we’ve got blunt force trauma, strangulation, and a slit throat, just based on what we can see on the scene,” Dave replies. “I assume the rest will be made clearer as we dig into victimology.”

Noah sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Okay. Do you need me?”

“Paul and I have it covered,” Dave assures him. “I’m sure you probably want to get some sleep, since you and Tara will be on it tomorrow.”

“You’re right about that,” Noah admits. He’s trying to be better about allowing his deputies to take the lead when he knows that he’ll be better for some rest or a break. “All right, I’ll see you tomorrow morning for shift change.”

“We’ll make sure our reports are ready to go,” Dave promises and ends the call.

The house is dark when Noah arrives. Cora has been spending most nights with Erica, unless they’re at the pack house, at least in part to comply with the buddy rule. He hears a sound coming from the kitchen, and makes his way back there to see Derek staring at the tea kettle, as though he can will water to boil faster.

“Hey,” Noah calls. “You couldn’t sleep?”

Derek just shakes his head.

“Anything you want to talk about?” Noah prompts.

“No,” Derek says firmly. “I just had a dream, and I don’t want to go back to sleep until I can shake it.”

“Good enough,” Noah replies, not wanting to press. “You know where to find me if that changes.”

Derek manages a smile. “Yes, sir.”

Noah squeezes his shoulder. “Is Cora with Erica tonight?”

“Yeah, she is,” Derek agrees. “I think we both do better when we have a little space.”

“I can understand that,” Noah replies. “And the rest?”

“Boyd and Isaac are at their place, and Scott stayed here with Stiles,” Derek replies. “Stiles made sure that they all got their homework done.”

“Of course, he did,” Noah says fondly. “Well, since you’ll probably hear about it one way or another, it appears the next cycle has started.”

“Have you told Moira yet?” Derek asks.

“No, shit,” Noah says. He hates calling so late, but he knows that Derek is right, and he needs to inform Moira.

She picks up on the first ring. “We’re already aware, Noah,” she says briskly. “If she sticks to the pattern, and we have every reason to believe that she will, she’ll take the next victim tomorrow. We’ll have two more chances to catch her this cycle.”

“And I assume that you’re going to want Stiles to be involved,” Noah says wearily.

“She’s still weak enough to need to operate at night, and to only be able to do one per night,” Moira says. “That will change after this cycle. She’ll gain strength if she can complete it. We’ll need Stiles’ connection to the earth and his spark in order to stop her.”

Noah closes his eyes, but he understands that it’s necessary. “All right. I’ll let him know tomorrow morning. Do I need to keep him home from school?”

“No,” Moira replies. “I’ll come get him after he’s done for the day.”

“Okay,” Noah promises, and then she ends the call.

Noah stares at his phone, and then just shakes his head. “I’d better get to bed. Tomorrow is going to be busy.”

“Let me know if there’s anything I can do,” Derek offers.

Noah appreciates that, but he’s just hoping for some sleep, and maybe to bring some sort of resolution. He just wants to know that his pack and his community are safe.

~~~~~

Stiles’ alarm goes off, and he reaches out to silence it. “Ugh.”

“You okay?” Scott asks sleepily as he sits up from his nest on the floor. He’d been sleeping in his fur, just because it’s more comfortable, but he shifted back as soon as the alarm went off.

“Yeah, just…” Stiles trails off, because he knows already. The Darach’s magic feels like rotten vegetation, and he knows that she’s struck again. “Another murder.”

Scott blinks at him. “You can tell?”

“Yeah,” Stiles admits. “I’m surprised I didn’t feel it last night, but I guess I slept right through it.”

“How?” Scott asks, mystified.

Stiles shrugs. “I got pretty deep when I interrupted her hold on Derek. She’s gross, and I’m pretty sure she pollutes everything she touches, but that kind of contact means it’s easier to sense her.”

Scott grimaces. “That sucks.”

“It will be worth it if we can find her before she strikes again,” Stiles says philosophically. His stomach twists, though, and Stiles hugs Batman just to ground himself.

Batman whines softly, and Stiles says, “I’d better take him out.”

“You want me to put together something for breakfast?” Scott asks. “I can make toast?”

Stiles gives Scott a look. “We’re good, dude. You don’t have to keep trying to make things up to me.”

“Maybe you should have some toast with an evil witch running around that you’re probably going to have to stop,” Scott counters.

Stiles laughs. “Yeah, okay. I’ll take some toast.”

He quickly pulls on clean clothing, having showered the night before, and then takes Batman out back. Batman is always good about doing his business, and by the time Stiles gets back inside, his dad and Scott are in the kitchen, and Scott is buttering a couple of pieces of toast.

“I already know,” Stiles says when he catches sight of his dad’s weary expression. “Did you call Moira?”

“Last night,” his dad confirms. “She and the others are also aware. Moira didn’t think the Darach would strike again until dark, so she’s going to pick you up after school.”

Stiles nods and accepts the toast from Scott. “Yeah, okay, but if I need to call out?”

“I’ll make up a very convincing story about you being sick,” his dad says dryly.

“I can get your assignments,” Scott offers.

“Thanks, Scott,” Stiles replies. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. And thanks for the toast.”

His dad gives Stiles a rough hug, then does the same for Scott. “You boys be safe today, okay? I need to get to the station.”

“You be safe, too, Dad,” Stiles replies, and Scott echoes him.

Stiles drives them both to school, and they meet the others in front. Erica has been able to get her driver’s license, so they have three cars between them all, not including Derek’s.

Boyd looks uncharacteristically upset. “Did you hear?”

“Just that there had been another death,” Stiles replies. “Why?”

Boyd looks at the ground. “It was Kyle Dawson. He was in Air Force JROTC with me.”

Stiles winces. He hadn’t known Kyle other than to nod to in the hallway, but Boyd is a good dude, and that means Kyle probably had been as well. “I’m sorry.”

Erica wraps her arms around Boyd’s waist. “You okay?”

Boyd shrugs, but he puts an arm around her shoulders. “We weren’t best friends or anything, but he was a really nice guy.”

“I’m sure he was,” Stiles replies. “How did you find out?”

Boyd shakes his head. “He was dating another JROTC member, and they were supposed to meet last night. She went looking for him when he didn’t show, and she found the body. They were meeting at their favorite location in the Preserve.”

Stiles grimaces. “Damn, that sucks.”

He has no doubt that his dad will figure it out, but he texts him and Moira with the information about the involvement in JROTC. To Stiles, it still seems like a stretch to call a member of JROTC a warrior, but maybe he’d been convenient.

But with that much room for interpretation, there’s no way to predict who the next target will be. The one thing they do know is that the Darach is unlikely to go after any of the werewolves.

Stiles is preoccupied at school that day, finding it difficult to pay attention to his teachers or the in-class discussions.

Mrs. Ramsey asks him to stay back after English class, and Stiles winces. He just wants to get through the day. “Are you all right, Stiles?” Mrs. Ramsey asks gently. “You seem distracted today.”

Stiles shrugs. “Just a lot going on, that’s all.”

She doesn’t appear entirely convinced, but allows him to leave. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do,” she urges. “I know you’ve had some traumatic events.”

Stiles rests a hand on top of Batman’s head, grounding himself. “Yeah, you could say that, but I’m handling it.”

Mrs. Ramsey nods. “All right. You’d better get to your next class.”

Stiles makes a mental note to at least appear to pay more attention. In some ways, while having Batman does make his life easier, it also draws attention to the fact that Stiles is not entirely okay.

And all of his teachers this semester actually give a damn, unlike Mr. Harris, who probably would have just been nasty—but there’s a reason his dad insisted that Stiles have a different teacher for physics this year.

Of course, Stiles can’t just get through the day. Lydia comes marching over to their lunch table and drops down across from him. “It happened again last night,” she announces.

Stiles stares at her, and then asks, “Okay, what do you want me to do about it?”

“I need some answers, Stiles,” Lydia hisses.

“And I would love to give them to you,” Stiles says. “But we’re in the middle of a crisis right now, as I’m sure you’ve figured out based on the dead bodies. When we’ve figured that out, we’ll have time for your issue.”

Lydia huffs in irritation, but she nods reluctantly. “Fine.”

She leaves, and Scott glances at him. “You don’t seem all that enamored anymore.”

“I have a lot on my plate,” Stiles protests.

What he doesn’t say is that he wants people in his life who are actually nice to him and his friends.

“Well, maybe if she were a little nicer,” Isaac mutters.

“What Isaac said,” Stiles says, offering a fist bump, which is returned.

The rest of the day passes without incident, and Stiles heads straight home. Scott, Isaac, and Boyd all have lacrosse practice, and Stiles is glad that he doesn’t have to worry about lacrosse this year. He much prefers his judo and krav maga lessons, even though he has to put those on hold this week, at least until the Darach is taken care of.

Moira is waiting for him, and she puts an arm around his shoulders. “Are you ready for this, Stiles?”

“Do I have any other choice?” Stiles counters. “She’s just going to keep getting stronger, and keep coming after us.”

“We always have a choice,” Moira replies. “But I will agree that there are times when one choice is so completely unpalatable that it would appear none exists.”

Stiles grimaces. “Don’t I know it. Do you think we’ll stop her tonight?”

“I hope so,” Moira replies grimly. “But if we don’t, it won’t be because we didn’t try our best.”

Stiles agrees, but privately he thinks that’s cold comfort to the next victim—or victims.

~~~~~

Noah can’t make himself stay at the station, not when he knows that his kid might be going into danger. He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to do anything, but he can at least bear witness.

He makes his way to the Mahealanis’ house, which has become the default location for large magical workings. Noah isn’t entirely sure why that is, but he suspects it’s because his house sees such high traffic.

Danny answers the door when he rings the doorbell, and he raises his eyebrows. “Mom and Tutu thought you’d probably show up. Is anyone else coming?”

Noah shakes his head. “No, just me. I’m not risking anyone else.”

Danny nods and leads him through the house to the backyard. Night is beginning to fall, and Stiles is anchoring the northern point of the circle. He has both hands on the ground, and his eyes are closed. Danny retakes his place in the circle, and Noah sits in one of the chairs that’s set off to the side.

Moira looks at him. “It would be better if you don’t interfere, Noah. I know that’s against your nature, but the Darach must be stopped with magic.”

Noah nods reluctantly, but he makes no verbal promises.

Stiles opens his eyes, and they’re glowing with a golden light. “I can sense her.”

“Where is she?” Noelani asks.

“She’s near the Nemeton,” Stiles says slowly. “She’s going to take her next victim soon, and she’s using the ley lines to do so.”

“Can we get there in time?” Alana asks.

The glow fades from Stiles’ eyes. “If we move now, we can interrupt the ritual before it’s complete.”

“Two cars, Stiles and Alana with me, Noelani, you’ll take Noah and Danny,” Moira says. “Stiles, what’s the best place to enter the Preserve to catch her?”

Stiles frowns. “East side, the same place we entered the first time you took me to the Nemeton.”

Moira turns to Noah. “You remember where that is?”

Noah nods. “How could I forget?”

“Good,” Moira replies. “You’ll direct Noelani in case we get separated.”

“Why would we get separated?” Noah asks.

Moira shakes her head. “I’m not taking any chances. The Darach is just going to get stronger and stronger with every sacrifice.”

Noah understands what she’s not saying. They have to stop her now or risk being unable to do so in the future.

Noelani drives a gray Subaru, and Noah takes the passenger seat, while Danny takes the backseat. He’s quiet, dark eyes intense, and Noah wonders if all the magic they’ve done together in the last few months has changed something for him.

“Danny, I want you to be careful,” Noelani says softly. “Moira, Stiles, and I will take the lead. You and Alana are there mostly to provide support.”

“Got it,” Danny replies. “I’ll be careful, Tutu.”

Noelani easily follows Moira’s red Prius to the same place Moira had brought Stiles at the beginning of his training, and they climb out of the vehicles. Stiles is kneeling on the ground, Batman sitting next to him.

“She’s really focused on her next victim,” Stiles says. “I think we can sneak up on her.”

Moira crouches down next to him. “Are you sure?”

Stiles nods. “She’s connected to the Nemeton, and to the ley lines. After I interrupted her ritual with Derek, I got a pretty good sense of her.”

Moira nods. “Okay. Let’s proceed cautiously.”

Later, Noah will think that he could be forgiven for thinking that things have been too easy. They move through the Preserve with as much stealth as they can manage, which is more than Noah expects. Noelani and Moira are almost entirely silent; Alana and Danny only make a few noises.

Stiles and Batman move like ghosts, though, and Noah assumes that has something to do his magic.

Noah is hanging behind everyone else, and so Stiles and the other coven members reach the clearing first. He can see the giant stump of the Nemeton, but as soon as he enters the clearing, he’s frozen.

A woman’s voice rings out behind him. “Did you really think I would be that stupid?”

Noah can’t move, although he’s not certain why. It’s the strangest feeling. He feels the sharp blade of a knife at his neck.

Stiles whirls. “What the—“ Noah sees his eyes widen, and he senses someone approaching him from behind. “What are you doing?”

“Your father is a warrior, and you just delivered my next sacrifice.” The tone is gloating.

His kid stands there, hands at his sides, and then Stiles’ shoulders relax. “Okay, let’s play this thing out.”

“What?”

Stiles shrugs. “Let’s play this out. You sacrifice my dad, and then you die.”

“I’ll add his strength to my own,” comes the counter.

Stiles just looks supremely unconcerned. “We’re talking about an Alpha werewolf here. You have to know that werewolves are terrible to use for rituals. Super problematic.”

Just barely out of the corner of his eye, Noah can see the woman approaching from his right. “Perhaps, but the strength I gain makes the risk worth it.”

“Does it, though?” Stiles asks. “Because by killing him, you’re just going to make it that much more likely that I blow up your head, or something equally horrible.”

“Before I slit your father’s throat?” Jennifer asks cruelly.

“Eh,” Stiles replies. “I kind of like my odds.”

From the left, something flies through the air. Danny might play goalie on the Beacon Hills lacrosse team, but Noah has watched enough games to know that he’s fast and accurate when he’s passing the ball.

The rock Danny throws hits Jennifer’s temple, the knife drops from Noah’s neck, and he’s no longer frozen. She cries out, and Noah isn’t going to give her a chance to recover. He transforms into his fur, sinking his teeth into the back of her leg to incapacitate her further.

“Now, Stiles!” Moira shouts.

Stiles throws out a hand, but Jennifer screams and throws up some kind of defense that sends out a concussive blast, throwing Noah away and knocking Stiles to the ground.

Noah is still trying to gather his wits when he hears chanting in another language. It’s song-like, and when Noah finally manages to get to his feet, he realizes that Moira, Noelani, Alana, and Danny are closing a circle around the Darach.

It’s Jennifer’s turn to be frozen, and then Stiles gets to his feet. His eyes narrow, and he holds out a hand again. This time, there’s no light, nothing visible, but Jennifer’s eyes widen, and she clutches her chest.

“That’s for Derek and Heather, bitch,” Stiles spits out.

When she drops, it’s clear that she’s dead, and the glamor she’s been using to change her appearance dissipates. The face behind the mask is horrendous, pale and disfigured.

Noah stares at the body and says the first thing that comes to mind. “What the actual fuck?”

“She had enough power to save her life, but not enough to restore her appearance,” Moira says as she approaches. “Did you use the method I recommended, Stiles?”

Stiles nods. “Air bubble in the pulmonary artery. She wasn’t guarding against it, and so wasn’t expecting it.”

Noah is supremely uncomfortable at how easily his kid talks about murdering someone, and Stiles glances at him. “Sorry, Dad. I promise not to take up murder as a hobby.”

Noah blows out a breath. “I’m not sure that’s the comfort you meant it to be, son.”

Stiles shrugs. “That’s the best I can do right now. She was going to kill eleven more people, starting with you, and no prison would have held her.”

Noah rubs his eyes. “Okay. Fair enough, and you’re right. We weren’t going to take her in, and she was never going to stand trial.”

Stiles suddenly just looks like a scared kid. “Are you disappointed in me?”

“Oh, no, kiddo,” Noah replies immediately holding out an arm and pulling Stiles close when he closes the distance. “You played that so cool. If anything, I’m just sad that I see a soldier in you already.”

“I had a lot of talks with Moira about it,” Stiles replies. “We discussed a few different scenarios.”

Noah glances at Moira. “Did you know she’d target me?”

“No,” Moira replies. “But we prepared for that possibility. I had plans A through Z and then some.”

Noah just holds his son close and then says, “Okay, celebration later, but we have to figure out what to do with the body.”

“Julia Baccari is dead, and Jennifer Blake is a fiction,” Noelani says. “But we can deal with the body easily enough with fire.”

Stiles frowns. “Wait, Moira? Does the Nemeton feel different?”

Moira turns to the stump and swears sharply. “The blast must have knocked the spirit it was holding loose.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Noah asks.

Moira shakes her head, and Noelani says, “That would depend entirely on whether the spirit leaves or sticks around, but it’s not something we can solve right now.”

Danny grimaces. “Do I need to stick around for this?”

“Take Stiles back to the cars,” Noah replies. “We’ll handle the rest.”

He gives the others a look, but no one contradicts him, not even Stiles. Danny puts an arm around Stiles shoulders, and Stiles leans into him.

When Noah turns back to the women, Noelani has taken the lead. “I have this.”

The fire that leaps up is hotter and more intense than any crematorium that Noah has ever heard of, and the body dissolves into ashes in no more than a few minutes.

“Fuck,” Noah says under his breath. “I’m glad you all are on our team.”

Moira gives him a look. “With great power comes great responsibility, Noah. We all know that, and we have committed to staying on the side of the virtuous.”

Noah is okay with that. As an Alpha, his instincts connect with their pragmatism. “Pack dinner at my house in two days,” he says. “Not optional, everyone should be there.”

He’s going to make sure that everyone in his pack is at least meeting regularly. He’s going to make sure they’re tight, tight enough to hide the dead bodies.

Tight enough to know if someone starts acting strangely so they can do something about it.

Noah figures that’s about all they can do to combat whatever had been released from the Nemeton.

~~~~~

Derek glances around the pack house, seeing everything jumping. Noah arranged it so that all the members of the station pack are off duty, so everyone could be present. They’d all been informed what had happened with the Darach, but beyond the bare bones, that had been it.

But the entire pack is at the house, the grill is going, and everyone has brought something.

Derek doesn’t see Stiles, though, and so he goes looking for him.

Stiles isn’t in the house, and Derek looks in the front yard, then the back. Cora is hanging out with Erica in the living room with Boyd and Isaac, laughing over something. Scott is with Danny and Melissa in the kitchen as she walks them through making guacamole.

When Derek moves into the backyard, he sees Noah manning the grill, with Dave, Paul, and Parrish drinking beers and bullshitting on the deck. Danny’s dad is chatting quietly with Noah, and it seems to be going well.

He’s not sure where Moira, Noelani, and Alana are, but then he sees the outline of a lone figure at the edge of the yard, three dogs ranged around him.

Derek nods to people as he heads that direction, then sits on Stiles’ left side, since Batman is on his right. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Stiles replies. He’s been quiet the last couple of days, which is unlike him, and Derek is worried.

“You okay?” Derek asks.

“I should ask you that,” Stiles replies. “She hurt you.”

Derek takes a deep breath. “I don’t know. I mean, yes, but also, it’s not the same, and I can’t help but compare her and Kate.”

“And Jennifer is dead,” Stiles replies.

“Thanks to you,” Derek says. “You still haven’t answered the question.”

Stiles tips his head back to look at the stars. “I killed someone by planting an air bubble in their pulmonary artery, and I haven’t lost any sleep over it.” Stiles glances over at him. “I’ve been sleeping like a baby, Derek.”

Derek hesitates, and then he asks, “Do you think a wolf loses sleep over killing an enemy? You might not be a werewolf, but you’re still a member of the pack, and your outlook is more like a wolf’s.”

Stiles glances down at the ground. “I guess.”

“But are you okay?” Derek asks again.

“Hell if I know,” Stiles admits. “What about you?”

Derek also looks up at the sky, but he finds no answers there to what he’s feeling. He has his pack, his sister is in a good place, and Derek has no reason to feel what he’s feeling.

Anger, a thirst for revenge, some weird sense of impending doom. It’s unfamiliar but familiar all at the same time.

“I need you to keep me honest,” Derek says. “I trust you to do that, Stiles.”

“So, the next time you start obsessively texting someone and won’t tell anyone what’s going on, I need to kick you ass?” Stiles asks.

“Yes,” Derek says flatly. “And I need your promise.”

Stiles holds up a hand, extending a pinky. “Only if you do the same for me.”

Derek links his pinky with Stiles’, and he takes a deep breath. He remembers doing pinky swears with his siblings. “Swear.”

“Swear,” Stiles echoes.

Batman takes that moment to sprawl across Stiles’ lap, and Cocoa and Nibs glare at each other until Cocoa takes Derek’s lap, and Nibs rolls around until he’s on his back to give Derek and Stiles access to his belly.

“Oh, I see you, you big baby,” Stiles mutters, rubbing Nibs’ belly. “You’re ridiculous.”

Derek agrees, but he bumps Stiles’ shoulder with his own, and Stiles smiles at him. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“For what?” Derek asks.

“For killing that evil bitch,” Stiles replies.

Derek laughs. “Yeah, not mad about that, so thanks.”

The party is still going on behind them, and Derek uses one hand to rub Nibs’ belly and the other to scratch Cocoa’s ears.

For right now, they’re okay, and Derek has to be all right with that.

---