Reading Time: 69 Minutes
Title: Hard to Kill
Author: Lalaith Quetzalli
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Genre: Angst, Action Adventure, Established Relationship, Family, Romance, Slash
Relationship(s): Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Background Relationships
Content Rating: R
Warnings: Hate Speech, Violence-Graphic, Violence-Against Children/Child Abuse. Death-Minor Character, Discussion-Hate Crimes, Discussion-Miscarriage, Kidnapping, Murder, Racism.
Beta: CorgiQueen14
Word Count: 72795
Summary: Mieczyslaw Jan Gajos Stilinski was born into a lineage of power, and duty. With the power and will to carry on the legacy of his ancestors, and more. And no matter who gets in his way, who tries to push him back, to take him down, in the end he will always be the last one standing. For even if he might be only human, in this world of magic and monsters, he knows that humans can sometimes be stronger than even gods…
Artist: Halestrom
Part IV. The Myth.
It starts with an offer…
“Have you thought about having kids?”
Cora’s question, thrown at him one random afternoon while Stiles is having a cup of tea and relaxing a bit at home (it’s his day off!), almost immediately has him sputtering as he sits up and looks at her, trying and failing to find the right words with which to reply.
“Well, considering I’m in a very solid, very happy, no-take-backs relationship with your brother, who’s a man,” Stiles finally blurts out. “And as far as I know mpreg is something that does not exist outside of werewolf fanfiction…”
Cora’s the one left sputtering at that.
“Stiles!” Cora exclaims, flustered.
Stiles cackles, unable to help himself (and truth be told, he doesn’t try that hard!).
Once they calm down, the conversation turns serious. Cora doesn’t have a maternal bone in her body (also, she’s ace, so not only is she not interested in having kids, neither is she interested in the process of becoming pregnant… traditionally), at the same time, she wants the Hale Pack to grow, to reach another generation. Derek already has one kid, they hope Malia will choose to settle down one day, and in the meantime, Cora has decided she’s going to have a child, and it’s gonna be Stiles’.
Which is how Stiles finds himself, not quite a year later, holding his newborn daughter in his arms. While standing in a private room of a medical center in the Olympic Peninsula, west of Seattle. They’re in a special wing exclusively for supernatural beings (paid for by the Johnson-Smith pack, the biggest shifter pack in North America). When Cora became pregnant she insisted on wanting shifter doctors to look after her, and thanks to Stiles’ position as High Guardian of North America (the title the shadow-world has chosen to give him, just like they’re calling Derek High Alpha) they immediately had offers from a number of packs, willing to aid them. The Johnson-Smith pack, being the biggest pack in the US (they’re technically two packs that have combined, since their alphas mated and they both refused to pass on their alpha spark to another in order to simply join the other pack) was the obvious choice. It especially helps that they’re big enough, and known enough in the territory for supernaturals to have their own wing in the local hospital.
It’s the kind of thing they hope to one day have in Beacon Hills. Ever since the mess with Monroe a great number of people in town are aware of the supernatural. And while not many may be… fans of it, exactly, most are willing to, at the very least, follow a ‘live and let live’ philosophy. Even though only Noah, Jordan and Mason are fully involved with the supernatural, there are enough deputies in the station, as well as doctors and nurses at the hospital, who know enough to be able to truly help (and to keep things under wraps when certain individuals start healing too fast, or reacting in strange ways to certain things). It’s not perfect, not yet, but then it’s only been a few years since Stiles got out of that awful desert prison and they began working on making Beacon Hills better, they’ll get there.
Luna Claudia Hale. That’s his daughter’s name. It was Stiles’ own idea for the baby to have the Hale name, rather than Stilinski (which would have been hard since Stiles Stilinski is still technically dead; for his own safety more than anything else) or Gajos (since he goes by Mietek Gajos nowadays). Mostly because it felt right, and since they’re planning to raise Eli and Luna together as siblings… it’s only right, since Mirele changed Eli’s name to Hale at some point before her death, making him Eli Mieszko Hale.
Unlike what would be the case with a human baby, Stiles knows Luna is already stronger, her immune system hardier. Which is why they won’t be waiting as long as they’d have to with a human baby before traveling. Stiles has already warned his people he’s taking the month and to not call him unless it’s life-or-death. Cora should be out of the hospital by the evening and then they’ll go back to the house they’ve been renting. By the end of the week they’ll make the trip to Beacon Hills so baby Luna can be introduced to the rest of her pack, and the territory as a whole.
A lot has changed in the years since the escape from the Citadel. It took planning, time, effort, and a lot of patience, but every single individual behind the creation and use of that awful prison has been falling, one by one. All kinds of individuals, from mere hunters, to (dirty) cops, agents from a number of intelligence agencies, members of various crime families across the country, and even a dozen politicians. They’re all behind bars now, those who aren’t dead at least. Most of the hunters who were just hunters refused to give up when approached by law enforcement and they died during the various shootouts that ensued. Everyone involved in the operation having learned early on that when on a confrontation with hunters it’s better to shoot to kill (than just to injure) since hunters aren’t the kind to come in quietly. Those who could be convicted of mundane crimes were sent to various ‘normal’ prisons, those that couldn’t were sent to the brand new supernatural prison, under the oversight of the Guardians, as well as special teams from the FBI and Interpol (with Aaron Hotchner still heading that particular collaboration).
Rafael McCall was the first to end up in jail when it was discovered he’d hidden, changed and even falsified evidence in a variety of cases (not all of which could be explained by him covering up supernatural shenanigans). He was far from the last.
There’s only one hunter family still standing in North America: the Lanes, led by Matriarch Susan Lane. They’re based in Boston, Massachusetts, and their ‘territory’ is usually the Northwestern corner of the US (from Pennsylvania on), and part of Eastern Canada. They were the only family they found who hadn’t a single instance of killing innocents, except for a couple of accidents years prior (which were confirmed to have been, in fact, accidents), and which the family made amends for with those affected.
Stiles got to talk with Susan Lane exactly once (since then his dealings have been exclusively with the huntress’s heiress, her daughter-in-law: Marissa Ortiz-Lane).
“I don’t like this,” Susan Lane stated as they sat to discuss matters.
An imposing woman, almost six feet tall (she’s taller than even Stiles by a couple of inches, almost as tall as Derek!), thin, with dark eyes and shoulder-length brunette hair that considering her age (she’s in her late sixties or early seventies, Stiles couldn’t get any information more precise than that) she must dye almost religiously to keep such a perfect shade. She arrived to the meeting dressed very formally in white loose pants, a black shirt with a white collar, dress shoes and a long dark blazer, she even had a straw-colored hat with a dark ribbon adorning it over her head. Clearly not the kind of clothes she’d have been wearing if she expected a fight.
Her heiress, by comparison, was in her thirties, 5’ 4” tall, with dark eyes and even darker hair (long and wavy), the kind of makeup that accentuated both her eyes and lips, dressed in skin-tight all-black clothes from head to toe and wearing knee-high boots with very high heels. There were some tattoos visible on her arms, chest and back. Finally, her only piece of jewelry was a thick metallic bracelet that seemed to form a spiral around her right wrist.
“What is it that you don’t like, exactly, ma’am?” Stiles asked, sitting very straight.
They were sitting at a picnic table, in a section of Castle Island that was out of the public eye (and, as Stiles would later learn, inaccessible to humans too). Their host was Alannah Sullivan (tanned skin, blue-gray eyes and auburn hair in a coral pink dress), a local witch, head of her own small coven, and known ally of the Lane hunter family. It was really the closest they could get to having the meeting in neutral territory, all things considered.
“I don’t like any of it,” Susan stated bluntly. “We hunters were meant to be holy warriors, protectors of humanity, of those most vulnerable in the world. Those who either cannot defend themselves, who might not even know there is a danger they must be guarded from. Centuries of history and tradition, of pride, brought to ruin by those who believed that being stronger was a right, a… something meant to grant them luxury, instead of the responsibility, the burden it’s always been.”
It was as Stiles listened to Susan Lane speak about what hunters were supposed to be, what Lane tradition said of it all, that Stiles realized something he’d failed to grasp as a child, listening to his mom’s stories about warriors, and especially about the splitting of the hunters from the warriors. It was never supposed to be about an ‘Us vs Them’. Yes, they followed different traditions from the warriors; but in the end, hunters were never supposed to be the bad guys. Just like Catholics and Christians weren’t really the bad guys just because they believed in one god instead of the multiple other religions believed in. Like in everything there are those who are good, and those who are bad. He supposes it might just be his luck, that he’s met so many bad hunters. Or maybe, maybe it was like that saying, about how when you look into the darkness, the darkness looks into you… or something along those lines.
“You coming in now, telling me that the hunters are done,” Susan continued. “That our reputation has been ruined to the point we’ve lost who we are entirely, because even those of us who are actually still doing our jobs right, our mere title is enough to make us appear like all those other murderers. It feels like failure, Master Gajos. It feels like I failed, like we all did.”
“Perhaps, ma’am, you could look at it, not as a failure, but as an opportunity,” Stiles offered. “Rather than seeing it as you giving up, see it as reaching a new stage. Things will never go back to what they used to be, true. And while change might not always be easy, it is still necessary. By all. Not just warriors and hunters, but shifters and magic-users as well. We all must adapt, if we are to survive.”
In many ways the Lanes were well adapted already. Like the Argents had Argent Arms both as a ‘legal business’ and to cover for their hunting trips, the Lanes had the Lane Bonds. All Lane hunters were licensed either as private investigators and/or bounty hunters and they used that as a cover for their hunting jobs.
And yet, as interesting as it was to meet Susan Lane, it was her heiress: Marissa, that interested Stiles most. From the start he found it quite curious that the woman was the future Lane Matriarch, despite only being a Lane through marriage. And then came Susan’s revelation:
“Truth is, Master Gajos, we were having issues long before you came into the picture.” Susan admitted. “Do you think I want to still be Matriarch? At my age?! I should be able to celebrate that I made it this far, that I survived despite being a huntress, that I went against bloodthirsty omegas, feral alphas, even a psychotic wizard and lived to tell the tale! And instead I’m still here, trying to hold the Lanes together a little longer. Trying to ensure there will be enough hunters to hold our territory for one more generation, hell, one more decade!”
Susan had four daughters, and not a single one of them took over from her. Two of them simply didn’t want to (one apparently went as far as running away to ensure she wouldn’t be forced to take the position), another was too bloodthirsty for Susan to even consider her for the position, while the last one just didn’t have the temperament needed for the position. And then her youngest child, his only son, came home with his pregnant girlfriend, announcing he was going to marry her.
“I thought it was insane,” Susan admitted. “Robert was my last chance. The boy was a good soldier, even if too much of a dreamer. But I wanted to believe I could make him see reason. I hoped that if I could just set up a good match, with a second daughter from the Argents, or the Calaveras, or even one of the lesser families, I’d get a good daughter-in-law and a potential heiress. And instead he brought home some girl with no name, no training, no bloodline and announced he’d marry no other, because he loved her…” She shook her head. “I’m a huntress, Master Gajos, and proud of it. But I’m not a monster. And despite how it might seem to some, I do love my children. So I gave my blessing. Robert married Marissa, and they gave me my first grandchild. Marissa knew already about our family, and after she fully recovered from the birth, I offered her the chance to fully be one of us. I’ll admit I did not expect much at first, even when she showed clear aptitude. It soon proved to be more than that. Somehow, this no-name girl ended up doing more to honor our heritage, the Lane name, than all five of my own blood-children combined!”
Stiles said nothing throughout the whole speech, just watching the two women, the obvious pride they felt. A part of Stiles couldn’t help but wonder, and not for the first time, if that was how it was supposed to be. If that was how the Argents would have been, without psychos like Gerard and Kate to ruin things. Then again, Allison had gone off the deep-end herself; even Christopher wasn’t exactly a good guy, and not just because of what he did to Stiles himself!
Marissa officially became the Lane Matriarch a month after that meeting, and in the past year her eldest son Matthew has been formally courting the eldest grandchild of the Reagan Pack, in New York (the oldest, most respected pack of the East Coast). It’s a match that will strengthen the Lanes, and will further reinforce the fact they’re not like the old hunters. And the best part? It’s a love-match.
All in all, things have gone much better than Stiles expected them to, when he first agreed to go with Alexis’ plan and run a new version of the warriors in North America. With the Lanes, their followers and what few other decent hunters they’ve come across, firmly with them, and most others either dead or behind bars, things are much improved. And it’s not even just about hunters. Magic-users and shifters are doing better too, knowing they can trust the Hale Pack and the other guardians to protect them all. There seems to be less trouble all around than when the hunters were supposedly still doing their job!
At this point, the only people on their lists (the one of those they know to be guilty of various crimes) are Christopher Argent and Alan Deaton. They caught Marin Morell years ago. The woman was just so proud, so overconfident, so sure she’d never be caught, that even when Deaton chose to leave Beacon Hills, she didn’t. She quit her job at the high-school after some carefully spread rumors ensured the students would refuse to see her; leading her to quit before she had to be fired. But even then she continued her work (and her experiments) at Eichen House. At least until arrangements could be made for a mixed warriors/FBI/Interpol/Lane hunters team to storm the place and take everyone involved with illegal practices down once and for all.
Eichen House was definitely a mess. Between illegal incarcerations, inhuman experimentation and so much more. The worst part was there were those who had been in that place for so long, subject to such terrible treatment and torture that there just was nothing that could be done to help them anymore. Some cases where death truly was the only mercy left. That in turn angered everyone, especially Stiles. Who did little to conceal the glee when Morell was stripped of her powers and thrown into a human prison for near endless counts of kidnapping, torture and experimentation; they didn’t even need to go into her crimes when serving as emissary for the Alpha Pack (which, granted, would have been harder to prove) to ensure she wouldn’t be getting out for the rest of her life.
“You have no idea what you’ve done!” Morell yelled at Stiles as she was being taken away.
“I’ve ensured justice was served, for all those whose lives you and others have ruined for your own benefit,” Stiles states evenly.
“All I’ve ever done has been for the good of the world, for the balance!” Morell cried out.
“What makes you think the world needs your help?” Stiles snorted as he turned around to leave.
“Alan should have killed you when he had the chance!” Morell yelled at Stiles’ back.
If she expected that statement to affect Stiles, she was mistaken. Instead the man turned to look at her over his shoulder, directing a half-feral smile at her.
“Yes, he probably should have,” he agreed. “But don’t worry Marin. Justice is coming for him too.”
He’d always found the whole idea of ‘balance’ more than a little subjective, because how do you even aim for something like that. Because, he supposed that balance would mean like, of good and bad. Did that mean that for every bad thing one had to do something good to balance things out? Or perhaps that for every good, a bad one had to be either provoked or at the very least ‘allowed to happen’ in order to keep this so-called balance? And how did that even work with things like life and death? Did one kill a person for everyone that happened to survive something? And how would one even know when someone was meant to die or if perhaps they were supposed to survive all along?
Alan Deaton was always talking about the balance and it made Stiles wonder. Because a man in his position, not just as the emissary of the Hale Pack, but as the local druid, he had to have known about what was going on with the Argents. And not merely because he was a magic-user but… Mountain ash wasn’t exactly easy to acquire. One couldn’t just burn a rowan tree and that was it. Long, elaborate rituals were required, it was why, for the most parts, the acquiring of it was something those like the druids handled. And yet, despite how hard it was, Kate Argent managed to get her hands on considerable amounts of mountain ash for all but the very first fire she set. That… Well, Stiles supposes that said something about more than just Deaton, but the fact remained. It was something he and his people were still working on.
In any case, the chances that Deaton didn’t know what Kate Argent was planning were practically nil. And even if by some sort of miracle he did not know in time to stop it, he should have known after the fact, yet he never did anything about it. Not to help the surviving Hales, or to allow justice to be served against the Argents. Even after all of that, when Laura died and Peter was feral and causing so much chaos, Deaton never did a thing to help any of them, not Derek, not Stiles. Even the ways he ‘helped’ Scott were suspect.
But, Stiles supposes, Deaton’s time to face justice will come, soon.
And Christopher Argent’s too.
xXx
Stiles rents the best van he can find in Seattle to drive Cora and baby Luna home to Beacon Hills (only the best for his newborn daughter and the baby-mama!). He plans the trip down carefully, not only to ensure he won’t exhaust himself, but that Cora and the baby won’t feel trapped, being too many hours inside the car. He makes sure to stop every few hours, always in scenic places. He also splurges a bit paying for rooms in good hotels rather than the usual motel rooms or hostels he’d usually go for.
The last thing they expect is for Stiles to wake up before dawn on the third day screaming his mate’s name at the top of his lungs:
“DEREK!!!”
Luna starts shrieking before Stiles manages to get himself under control once again. For a moment Cora actually hesitates before picking the baby up and doing her best to comfort her. Only waiting until the loud wailing has gone down to hiccuping sobs before turning to Stiles.
“What the hell was that?” she demands.
“Remember how we suspected certain people would be doing something stupid soon?” Stiles asks as he starts throwing their things back into their bag.
While they have more baggage in the back of the van, there’s a single suitcase with enough changes of clothes and toiletries for a week for the three of them which Stiles has been carrying whenever they stop for the night.
“What did McCall do?” Cora asks, rolling her eyes.
Because she has no doubt that if there’s stupidity being done, Scott McCall is involved.
“And wait, you screamed my brother’s name,” her tone goes from sarcastic to dead cold as she once again mutters: “What the hell did McCall do?”
“It wasn’t just him,” Stiles admits. “I… I don’t actually know everything. I… I think that under normal circumstances we’d have met last night, in our dreams, like we sometimes do. Except… except he wasn’t there. Instead I ended up seeing… I think they were fragments of his dreams, or like, his memories, blurry and… not fully formed, like only happens in dreams.”
“What did you see?” Cora demands, clearly not liking the way Stiles is avoiding giving her a straight answer, it makes her fear the worst.
So Stiles tells her. They had known about the strange fires already. Hotch’s old team was supposed to be arriving to town in the morning to investigate that particular situation. Stiles was even planning on taking a look if he could. What’s new is the attack in the lockers, and everything that followed.
They’re in the van and driving towards the highway as fast as Stiles dares go with his baby-girl in the vehicle, having barely stopped in the hotel restaurant for a couple of to-go cups of coffee, some bagels and fruits (not their preferred breakfast, but it’ll do).
“Allison Argent?” Cora asks, confused. “Wasn’t she dead?”
“She is,” Stiles confirms.
“Then how…?” Cora begins, then it hits her. “Wait, she attacked Derek?!”
“She went after both Eli and Derek, almost killing Der…” Stiles forces himself to swallow past the knot in his throat as he steps just a tiny bit harder on the gas. “Hunted Eli all night…”
“Fucking hunters…” Cora hisses angrily, cutting herself off when Luna starts whining again.
Stiles waits a couple of minutes while Cora settles the baby once again, before returning to what he knows. From Derek almost dying, Eli being hunted by a woman who was supposed to be Allison Argent, and the way the McCall pack seem to be heavily involved in everything. Also, the fucking nogitsune. Because that’s a really big thing. And Stiles for the life of him cannot begin to imagine that either Chris Argent or Alan Deaton could possibly be insane enough to let the fucking void-fox out of its prison considering how bad things went the last time!
“Will you be alright?” Cora asks at one point.
Stiles takes a moment before nodding sharply, just once. He knows why Cora’s asking. Considering how it all went down the last time. But Stiles isn’t the same person he was back then. He’s not the hesitant, insecure kid who struggled to find his place in the world. He knows exactly who he is now, and what he’s capable of. He doesn’t need anyone to rescue him, he’s quite capable of doing the rescuing himself! And if the nogitsune goes against his family, his pack, Stiles will make him regret ever going after them!
“There’s one thing that makes no sense though,” Stiles points out eventually.
“Only one?” Cora challenges with a scoff.
And yeah, Stiles has to admit she’s got a point.
“The Allison Argent going around trying to kill our pack, she looks our age,” Stiles explains.
“Mhm… so?” Cora doesn’t understand.
“How is that possible when she died when she was seventeen?” Stiles inquires.
“Shouldn’t the question be how she’s alive at all?” Cora retorts.
“See, I don’t think she is,” Stiles says quietly.
When he finishes explaining his theory to Cora she just stares at him for a moment, eyes flashing beta gold for a moment before she sits back, holding Luna tighter against her chest.
“Step on it,” she orders Stiles.
“What…?” Stiles blinks at her, their eyes meeting on the rearview mirror.
“Step on it,” she repeats, the order clear. “Think about it, Stiles. If you’re right,” and she has no doubt he is. “That thing is preparing to execute its next move. We need to get to Beacon Hills before it does. Otherwise…”
Otherwise someone is going to die…
Stiles steps on the gas.
xXx
Cora isn’t very happy with Stiles when he tells her to take Luna and lock herself at home. At the same time she does realize someone needs to take care of the baby, and it’s not like there’s anyone else they can ask to babysit; not just because it’s such short notice, but the fact that they’ve already tried calling every single member of the pack and the calls didn’t connect tells them that they’re most likely already involved in what’s going down.
“You better come back Stiles, you, and Derek, and Eli,” Cora orders.
She’s trying so hard to sound tough and authoritative, yet it’s impossible not to hear the tinge of fear in her voice. Stiles hugs her tight, just for a moment, before placing a kiss on his daughter’s head.
“I promise,” Stiles assures her. “This time, the bad guys will do the dying.”
Stiles rushes to the brand new college stadium. He knows there’s a lacrosse exhibition match going on and… is Scott actually playing? With fucking teenagers?! What the hell is wrong with him? And with whoever thought it was a good idea to have him play?!
In the end Stiles decides to push that aside for the time being. As much as he wants to make Scott McCall pay for all the things he’s done, against him, against Derek. All the years the bastard took away from the both of them, from their pack, because he’s such a self-righteous prick that believes it’s ‘his way or the highway’ and couldn’t stand Stiles being the one to save everyone (because that excuse about murder, and it being wrong to kill, yadda, yadda, doesn’t fly with Stiles, not when he knows Scott would have had no problem killing any and all Hales if it suited him!).
The match is pretty much finished already, Stiles can tell just by the tone of the cheering. But even then, Stiles decides to pull the fire-alarm to make sure the humans get out faster (just in case). He also sends a special code to his contact at the dispatch office so they’ll mark the call as being an accident or a prank, and not send anyone; that way the civilians will leave the stadium, but he won’t end up accidentally putting other people in the line of fire.
From the corner of his eye Stiles thinks he can see Malia and Jordan standing by one of the accesses to the stands, right by the edge of the mountain ash line, but he doesn’t pay them any mind. If Jordan can use his hellfire to destroy the line, that’s fine, if not, it doesn’t change anything. Not for Stiles.
“Go ahead, Lydia. Watch your friends suffer.”
He hears the voice first. And really, whatever the illusion being worked for their eyes, Stiles is pretty sure druids cannot do the kind of illusions that would trick all five senses (or at least hearing and smell along with sight) so how come neither Lydia nor Jackson have realized the bastard holding them at gunpoint is really not Adrian Harris?! Stiles knows that the fires served to plant the suggestion in their brains, because the accelerant used was the same one that Kate Argent used to burn down the Hale House, the very same which Harris created. Though it’s not like that was the last time it was used; Kate used it in nearly half a dozen fires in the years following the Hale Fire, and other Argents have employed it since. It wouldn’t surprise him if the formula were common knowledge among the hunters or… well, he knew already that Christopher was involved so…
Lydia is mumbling things, as if trying to cheer for someone while not actually expecting them to hear her, while Jackson is on the ground, injured, and trying to motivate her. It’s an interesting tableau, though yet again, not what Stiles is truly interested in!
“Allison is alive,” Jackson starts saying.
“Actually, no she’s not,” Stiles pipes in, because he just cannot help himself even at the best of times (and this one is definitely not the best, by far).
Three heads turn in his direction. Though before the third can fully finish turning Stiles pulls out his gun and shoots the crazy man in the hoodie right in the head. Normally Stiles wouldn’t be that violent straight out, but the situation is bad enough already, and Stiles isn’t foolish enough to leave a hunter standing at his back, not when his worst enemy is still ahead…
Lydia and Jackson practically jump in shock after Stiles’ sudden actions. The guardian opens his mouth to say something, but Lydia speaks first:
“Who are you?”
It’s… not the question he expected to hear coming out of her mouth, to be honest. Stiles knows he doesn’t look entirely the same, what with the long-ish hair, the stubble and well… he’s older, stronger, tanner than he ever was when those two knew him, but he doesn’t look that different, does he? Also, he’s Hale Pack, he smells of Hale, regardless of the fact it’s been over a month since he last was with his mate and son; shouldn’t Jackson be able to pick up on that?
Then again, Jackson wasn’t around when they actually became pack, was he? Even the couple of times he dropped by, during the mess with Monroe, he only saw the McCall Pack. Ethan and Jackson both know about Derek being an alpha, since he was their alpha for a while there (at least until Derek and Eli left NY), but Stiles was still trapped in the Citadel during the time they were actually pack and afterwards… Both Jackson and Ethan were willing enough to switch to the Reagan Pack when Derek announced he and Eli were moving to the West Coast, and Jackson wasn’t among the lawyers read into things when the Hales moved against the North American hunters so…
“Mietek Gajos,” Stiles says succinctly (it’s not a lie!).
“Why did you kill Harris?” Jackson blurts out. “I mean, I know that technically he was supposed to have been dead before but…”
“That man wasn’t Adrian Harris,” Stiles cuts him off, looking at each of them in turn, and then at the dead body. “Can neither of you truly see beyond the illusion yet?”
Whether that’s some sort of cue, or it’s just that neither of them had truly looked at the man since Stiles shot him, both Jackson and Lydia turn to look at him right then and…
“His face… it’s changed,” Lydia murmurs softly, confused.
“The illusion broke when he died,” When he killed him, same difference.
“Illusion?” Jackson echoes.
“Come on, you don’t really think someone brought back a man as… as plain and irrelevant as Harris, just to what, mess with your heads?” Stiles scoffs. “Illusions are more than enough to do the job.” About to walk away, Stiles takes a step back before adding. “Also, you think Harris, who didn’t even know about the supernatural before Julia Baccari killed him, had the power necessary to create a fully magically charged mountain ash barrier?”
It’s a reminder that as much as Lydia might be a genius where numbers are involved, in everything else she’s just like everyone else.
The sounds of battle pull them all back to the present and to the confrontation taking place inside the stadium itself… or the dark illusion the nogitsune has superimposed on the place. The supposed Allison is saying something about suddenly remembering everything (right in the middle of a battle?! She froze in the middle of fighting a freaking army of oni and none of them so much as tried to take advantage of the moment to try and attack her?!), which is incredibly convenient, especially since there is no reason for such a development to be happening right then and there…
“You said Allison wasn’t alive,” Jackson points out right then. “What did you mean?”
“Of course she’s alive!” Lydia blurts out. “Just look at her!”
“Is she?” Stiles challenges. “Did you scream when she crossed the veil?”
“No, but…” Lydia hesitates.
“Banshees don’t only wail when people are about to die, or have just died,” Stiles explains. “It’s not even about the dead, not really. A banshee’s voice is a bridge, a link to a different dimension, to the world on the Other Side… now, usually souls only make that trip one way, but when they happen to come back… There’s a reason why Peter Hale could use you, his own bond to you, his bite, to bring himself back. So tell me, did you scream when Allison returned?”
There’s a part of him that wants to ask her if she wailed during those nightmares she supposedly had about his death, the excuse she always uses to explain why she broke up with him. And he knows they’re just excuses, even if he’s not quite sure why she keeps insisting on holding onto the lie instead of admitting the truth: that as much as she loved Stiles’ devotion to her, she never loved Stiles himself. It took him a long while to understand it, to see the difference between the two things. But still, as selfish as he believes Lydia to be for her choices, in the end they were exactly that, choices she made. As wrong as she was for not telling him the truth, that doesn’t mean she was at fault in some way for not loving him. Love is not something that can be forced.
He definitely doesn’t think about asking if she ever thought about how she did not feel the urge to scream, when Stiles actually, supposedly, died… In the end, he knows such questions would be pointless, bringing him nothing at all.
“No…” Lydia admits quietly.
“Whatever some people might believe, coming back from death is not easy.” Stiles explains. “It’s not something just anyone can do. And certainly not something you can do simply by dumping some ingredients together and calling it done. Even when it’s happening on a nemeton.” He takes a deep breath before getting to the most important part. “Something you must understand is things like magic follow a very important, very basic rule: that of equivalent exchange. If you want to get something, you must sacrifice something of equal value. In this very particular case, it’d be a matter of a life for a life…”
“Peter did it!” Lydia snaps. “He came back! And I did not kill Derek for that!”
“No, you didn’t,” Stiles nods calmly. “But Peter had already killed Kate Argent, right there, not two moons prior. And even before that, there were the lives he took while avenging the deaths of his family, his pack. More than enough of an offering… Tell me, Lydia Martin, who did you kill to bring Allison Argent back?”
Truth be told he doesn’t doubt at least one person (quite probably more than one) would be more than willing to kill if they thought it’d allow them to bring the huntress back, but Stiles knows that in the end it is not possible. As good a copy as the… the homunculus walking around playing the part of an aged-up Allison Argent might be, in the end she’s not human, and Stiles has no compunction about tearing the illusion down.
Really, it’s like people learned nothing in high school! Don’t they remember the nogitsune’s love of illusions? The fact that he’d rather use those than fight any enemies directly? They know the place they’re in is an illusion, and somehow fail to grasp everything else that is as well?!
It’s then that things change abruptly, in an instant. When the supposed nogitsune grabs Eli and presses his dark claws to the vulnerable throat of Stiles’ adopted son… it’s almost enough to make the man snarl himself.
“We’re not done yet.” The nogitsune hisses. “The game is mine.”
There is a part of Stiles that actually wonders if the void-fox is truly talking to Scott… or to Stiles.
“Take me.” Scott calls right then, taking a step forward. “Let the others go.”
“All the lives here belong to me.” The nogitsune hisses darkly.
“All you need is me.” Scott insists.
“Scott, don’t do this,” Derek tries to stop him.
“Allison kills me, I die in her arms, the same way that she died in mine.” Scott declares. “That’s the move that wins the game, isn’t it?”
So very dramatic… unnecessarily so.
“I’ve already won.” The fox snaps, angry.
“You lose!” Scott retorts, voice even louder. “Until I’m off the board! And I’m still standing. And I’m still the alpha.”
Stiles is completely unsurprised by Scott’s words, the guy has always been so full of himself. And Stiles knows teenagers are inherently selfish and well, like that saying goes ‘everyone is the hero in their own story’ but it goes beyond that; it goes even beyond that joke he once made about not wanting to always be Robin to Scott’s Batman. While Scott might have declared that they weren’t like Batman and Robin, Stiles knows that was more about the fact that Scott didn’t like those comics, and not because he did not see Stiles as his sidekick. Truth be told, the human’s quite sure there came a point where the so-called true-alpha didn’t even consider him a sidekick anymore, nothing more than a ‘background character’ to the story he was the main character of.
It’s why he hated so much whenever Stiles would try and offer solutions to problems, or when Stiles contradicted him in any way. Scott had this insane idea that him being a so-called True Alpha meant he was some kind of werewolf messiah, that he was some superwolf who was always right. Which went along with his old belief about how good guys win because they’re good…
One has to wonder if perhaps that’s why he’s always believed the Argents to be the good guys. Because they win. If one follows that insane logic, the Hales have to have been bad if they lost, right? Absolutely ridiculous! Then again, Gerard-fucking-Argent threatened Scott’s mom, even hurt Scott himself, and that didn’t stop Scott from working with him so…
Stiles supposes in the end it’s pointless to keep thinking about it. He has no idea what Scott’s latest ‘master plan’ might be, but if the past is an example, it’s unlikely to end well… Well, it probably will go just fine, for Scott himself and the few he cares about. Which of course means Stiles won’t allow it.
“An arrow to the heart to save everyone else?” The nogitsune asks. “All the other players go free.”
So unnecessarily dramatic!
The bow flies to ‘Allison’s’ hand, who’s shaking her head in denial almost before Scott nods his agreement at her.
“No,” she insists. “No, I can’t. I… I can’t… I cannot… no. No.”
“Kill him, Allison, and I win the game.” The nogitsune presses.
“Allison, please.” Scott says. “Don’t make me watch my friends and my family die.”
The words he’s saying, some might expect him to be pleading, begging… but he’s not. There’s vaguely any inflection at all in his voice. Making it all too obvious he has a plan. Stiles doubts that someone like the nogitsune has missed this.
Though something that does make Stiles wonder, is how can anyone possibly miss the way Allison just stops her denials and… it’s like some kind of switch has been flipped. She draws an arrow, and by the time she raises her bow, there’s no emotion on her face, like she’s not human at all, like she doesn’t care. (Like she never did…)
“Game… is… mine!” The void-fox hisses darkly. “Kill him!”
Everyone is just standing there, waiting to see what will happen next…
Stiles steps across the mountain ash line, like it’s not even there. Because for him, it’s nothing, because he’s simply, utterly human… He ignores Lydia’s and Jackson’s reaching hands, their voices as they call to him. They don’t matter, not right now, he has an enemy to face…
He starts walking across the dark dimension taking each step slowly, purposefully. He also claps, slow, mocking claps, just enough until all eyes are on him:
“I would give it a five stars on the drama alone, but the overall story as a whole is so bad I’m gonna have to downgrade it to two,” Stiles says in a drawl. “Really, that whole ‘I’ll die in her arms’ was absolutely worthy of a lifetime movie… and with an outcome equally as predictable.”
There are at least two people who look like they’re not sure whether they want to facepalm, laugh, or just scream at Stiles (possibly all three, at the same time even!).
“Who the hell are you?!” Scott demands.
He’s clearly angry for some reason. Is he afraid that Stiles might be another enemy or… is he angry that Stiles is stealing his thunder?
“The ghost of your regrets,” Stiles quips with a slight grin.
“What the… what’s that supposed to mean?” Scott asks, clearly confused.
“Oh Stiles…” The nogitsune calls, dark glee dripping from its voice. “You came! This is… wonderful!”
“What…?!”
For a couple of minutes it’s absolute pandemonium as everyone in the McCall pack starts asking questions, and demanding answers. Wanting to know how come he isn’t dead? And if he was alive, why didn’t he tell them? Stiles just rolls his eyes at the first and scoffs at the second. He doesn’t look at them, his eyes fixed straight on Scott.
“Surprised to see me, Scottie boy?” Stiles asks eventually, voice dripping in sarcasm. “I suppose you thought your hunter-buddies would have gotten rid of me by now. Sorry to disappoint!”
“I… what… I don’t…” Scott stutters, unable to even focus enough to lie properly.
“Oh Stiles, you’ve always been so… entertaining!” The nogitsune calls out with an evil smirk. “Though I must admit to being surprised at your absolute disregard for the safety of this pup…”
As if to emphasize things, he presses one dark, filthy claw tighter to Eli’s throat.
Behind them, Derek growls in fury, pulling at the rope tying him, unable to free himself.
“That’s because I know you won’t hurt him,” Stiles states, perfectly calm.
“I won’t?” The fox asks, and while he sounds at ease there’s a hint of… something else, in his voice, and on the corners of his eyes. “And why is that?”
“Because you can’t,” Stiles states simply, though he’s not looking at the nogitsune, but instead at Eli, willing the boy to understand. “Because you, just like everything else, this whole fucking dimension, are nothing but an illusion…”
Just like with the fight at the high-school all those years ago. When they thought they’d somehow been transported to a snowy Japanese landscape after crossing a door. Where the nogitsune played his mindgames with them and tried (and almost managed) to get Stiles to kill himself. Because it was the only way the fox could win… Both back then, and now. With the bastard fox it’s always been about the fucking illusions.
The nogitsune cackles. A dark, cold laughter that makes shivers run up the backs of most of those who have to listen to it.
Black smoke seems to come out of nowhere, climbing everything and everyone in seconds. To the sound of several yells, calls and at least one scream. It vanishes almost as soon as it appeared, and then they’re all standing around the lacrosse field, in the middle of the otherwise empty stadium.
Jordan and Malia are at one of the entrances, with him having finally managed to call on the hellfire enough to break the mountain ash barrier, once and for all. Allowing them to step properly into the field. Peter, Melissa and Christopher are on the level of the stands, looking down at them. Though the moment Peter lays eyes on them all he’s somersaulting over the railing and rushing to join his pack. Lydia and Jackson are still at another of the entrances, standing by the body of the dead man who was pretending to be Adrian Harris, watching the tableau.
The nogitsune appears to have vanished, as have the ropes that were keeping Derek, Noah, Alan Deaton, Liam and his girlfriend trapped, something they all take advantage of as they regroup. Stiles wonders how many notice the fact that they aren’t forming one solid group, but two.
“You were always the smart one, weren’t you, Stiles?” The nogitsune’s voice seems to echo across the field, coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time; there’s also the way the creature draws out Stiles’ name, like it’s some sort of candy it’s taking its time with.
It makes Stiles feel dirty in a way. It also makes him want to shut the fox once and for all.
“Tell me Stiles, what is your divine move?” The nogitsune’s voice asks next. “I am sure, someone as brilliant as you must have one…”
“I do,” Stiles nods, taking a deep breath and bracing for what he knows will be coming once he makes his move. “It’s this!”
He pulls his gun from the holster in the small of his back. Taking but a fraction of a second to aim (he’s that good a shot) and taking the shot.
What follows is absolute pandemonium.
“Ally!”
“NO!”
“ALLISON!!!”
Scott roars in fury, howling something unintelligible as he throws himself at Stiles. Only, he never makes it that far as Peter gets in the way, and in the move that no one can truly follow, ends up spinning around and tossing Scott to a side.
“Scott!” Melissa cries out as she runs down the bleachers as fast as she can.
Chris doesn’t even try running, he raises his gun and aims, however, before he can fire, the gun is shot right out of his hand, by none other than Noah. Who immediately after taking that shot shifts slightly, pointing his weapon straight at Christopher, making it clear that if the hunter so much as reaches for another of his weapons, Noah will shoot him where he stands.
Scott is screaming at Stiles, about his actions, and everything being his fault, about his being a monster… Stiles isn’t really listening to him. Not until…
“You killed Allison!” Scott roars, not for the first time.
“No, I didn’t,” Stiles retorts with a roll of his eyes. “That thing was never Allison.”
Scott goes to roar his denial, again, when what Stiles’ been waiting for finally happens, as ‘Allison’s corpse’ seems to, sort of, deflate. Almost like it’s decomposing very rapidly. Turning into some kind of strange mulch and then a fistful of dirt, a piece of wood and a broken katana… Something emerges from it a moment later, an insect… a fly…
It starts buzzing, and makes to fly away, but before it can get very far a glass jar snaps closed around it. A glass jar that contains a shimmery, metallic looking liquid on the bottom half.
“What is that?” Eli asks, approaching Stiles and looking at the jar, face full of curiosity.
“The essence of the nogitsune,” Stiles explains.
“No, I guessed that part,” Eli shakes his head. “I mean the metal-looking liquid in the jar.”
“Mercury,” Stiles answers promptly. “Also known as quicksilver, it has some very interesting magical properties. Though what should interest us is that its effect on this thing will be very much like that of silver on the oni…”
“Oh…” Eli murmurs in understanding.
“Are you sure?” Derek asks.
It’s not that he doubts Stiles, it’s really not but… They’d already thought they had dealt with that thing once. He’d rather not have to go against it a third time!
“Positive sourwolf,” Stiles nods. “See, something not many realize is that kitsune are nothing like shifters, not really. The original kitsune, they predate humanity, they lived thousands of years ago and were closer to demons than anything you’d consider human. Obviously most kitsune alive nowadays are less like the original kitsune and more of… you could say half-bloods, human-kitsune hybrids. Some exceptions of course. Like the nogitsune, when that creature called itself a demon, it wasn’t kidding. With me so far?”
There are several nods.
“Now, demons, unlike werewolves, are actually affected by silver,” Stiles continues. “It’s actually where the original myth comes from. It’s also why some myths claim that it affects all sorts of other beings believed to be demonic in some way, like vampires and even witches. Onis are affected by silver because they’re, in many ways an extension of kitsune; they’re created from their tails, after all. What not many realize, is that not all kitsune can create oni. Only those from certain… lets call it bloodlines, those that are closer to their demonic-like roots, than the human ones.”
Which certainly said something about Noshiko…
“In any case, since the nogitsune is very much demonic…” Stiles begins.
“But quicksilver isn’t actually silver,” Lydia pipes in. “It’s just called that because of how it looks.”
“No, it’s not actually silver,” Stiles agrees. “But the name quicksilver comes from more than just a similitude in color. It’s connected to its magical properties. Of course that’s not the sort of information that most humans would have so…”
“If it was possible to kill the nogitsune, why wasn’t it done before?” Peter wants to know.
“Why indeed?” Stiles mutters in a drawl, before adding, louder. “Wanna answer this one doc? Or are you in that much of a hurry to leave?”
Alan Deaton, by then already almost at the other side of the field, and almost at one of he entrances, freezes, turning to look at Stiles over his shoulder with an expression that is two parts nervous, one part afraid, and still one part deep-seated fury. That’s one man who’s making his escape now, because he believes he stands a better chance that way, he’s afraid of what Stiles might do next… though he’s still very much angry, and there’s no doubt that he’ll seek retribution against Stiles, and his pack, at the first opportunity. Not like Stiles is planning to give him even the ghost of a chance…
All eyes turn to the vet instantly, and by the way the man tenses, Stiles knows he’s contemplating whether to attack, or just run. The younger man isn’t worried, he knows he doesn’t need to be.
“Alan Deaton?” a new voice calls.
And there it is, the reason why Stiles wasn’t even a little bit worried, dressed in a royal blue blouse, dark-washed skinny jeans and black-leather calf-high boots, short chestnut brown hair not quite brushing her shoulders: Sofiya…
“My name is Sofiya Popova-Abbot,” she introduces herself for the benefit of the McCall pack. “I’m here on behalf of the Druid Council. We’d like a word with you.”
“You’re not a druid,” Deaton mumbles, taking a step back, looking around as discreetly as he possibly can (and failing miserably) for an escape route.
“Not anymore, no,” Sofiya answers agreeably. “But I was asked to handle this personally, as a favor, and the Council agreed my training made me the right person for the job.”
In case someone tried to fight to stop the detainment from happening, she didn’t say.
Stiles sees the exact moment when Deaton decides if he cannot flee, he’s going to fight. He’s not the only one. However, right as Deaton opens his mouth what comes out, instead of being a spell is a strangled gasp, a moment before he sways sharply, his knees buckling (though he manages to stay standing, if only barely).
“Doc!” Scott cries out worriedly before turning to Stiles accusingly. “What did you do?!”
Stiles scoffs, of course Scott would blame him. Not that Stiles wouldn’t have done… something, had it been necessary, but that precisely the point. He didn’t need to do a thing!
“The other reason I’m here instead of the actual druids, is that the group sent by the Council are currently very busy working on cleansing the nemeton,” Sofiya offers with a beatific smile. “Such a pity that so powerful a node was allowed to languish in darkness for so long… but no need to worry. Everything will be alright now.”
Which, Stiles supposes, explains a few things. He’d wondered where Sofiya and the druids were, when he made it into town, since he’d called them from the highway and couldn’t find any of them on his way to either the house, or the stadium.
Stiles sees in Deaton’s eyes the moment the man realizes it’s over, he’s lost. All his plans, whatever they might have been, exactly (which, Stiles has some ideas, he’s pretty sure they include siphoning off the nemeton, among other things; though what his long-term goals might have been, it’s impossible to know for sure… and it’s not like Stiles actually cares, as long as his pack is safe).
Sofiya binds Deaton’s hands before taking him away. Even when Scott yells at her to stop she pays no mind to him, only stopping the slightest bit to throw a handful of mountain ash into the air as the so-called True Alpha goes to attack her. It doesn’t actually form the perfect circle most druids are known to be capable of, but then again, she never finished her druid-training. But still, it’s enough to keep Scott from following after her as she walks out of the stadium with Deaton.
“Why… why can’t I get through?” Scott asks, looking around wildly. “Why…?”
“Must you really ask, McCall?” Jackson inquires, voice dripping in sarcasm. “It’s mountain ash, the whole point of it is that it creates barriers against us!”
“Not against me!” Scott shakes his head vehemently. “I’m a True Alpha!”
“So what?” Jackson asks. “You’re a special snowflake, so the rules of the supernatural world shouldn’t apply to you?”
“Yes!” Scott practically snarls.
Jackson rolls his eyes but says nothing, finally realizing it’s pointless to try and argue logic with someone like Scott.
From the corner of his eyes Stiles can see that Christopher is gone, probably fled the moment he realized that his plans had been thwarted. And what’s more, that Stiles is there, very much alive and free, and more than capable of making him pay. But that’s alright. Because Stiles isn’t a fool. He might have gone into the lacrosse field alone, might have insisted Cora stay home with Luna, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t have backup at hand.
Stiles didn’t just call Sofiya on his way to Beacon Hills that morning, he also called Marissa Lane. The woman was more than eager to capture Christopher Argent and put an end to the very long mission of making justice for all involved with the Citadel, once and for all. It just so happens she was already in California, having managed to track the man all the way to LA before losing the trail a couple of days earlier. So it was a matter of hours before she and several of her soldiers were there. The group spread out by the various entrances to the college stadium, ready to take Christopher Argent, no matter which door he tried to use.
So, with those two taken care of, the homunculus masquerading as Allison Argent destroyed and the nogitsune vanquished once and for all, all that’s left are the so-called True Alpha and his pack…
“Why…” Scott turns to Stiles once again. “Why must you Always Ruin EVERYTHING?!?!?!”
For a moment there Stiles actually considers answering that question. Trying to explain to Scott everything he’s done, the consequences his actions have had. That his self-righteousness, his belief that things must be his way or not at all hurt so many people, in so many ways… and it wasn’t just Stiles. Not just the fact that Scott decided to work with hunters, again, this time to get his supposed best-friend thrown into a secret prison, one he was never supposed to get out of. It’s also Stiles’ family, his pack, all they suffered because of the separation, all his dad suffered believing his only son to be dead!
Stiles cannot actually blame Scott for what happened inside the Citadel. For the actions of the other hunters, for Stiles’ own choices. And certainly not for Jack, and Will… And Stiles supposes if his actions while in that horrible place managed to change anything, for the better, then perhaps it was worth it in the end. Not that he’d ever choose it or anything, but perhaps it wasn’t all for nothing (he has to believe that, has to believe that something good could come out of all that).
In the end he doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t see the point. Scott has always been the kind to dismiss conflicting information. Whenever he gets into his head that things should be a certain way, he will willfully ignore anything and everything that contradicts it. Like him hearing about the myth of the ‘cure’ for being a werewolf and deciding it must be true, despite there being no actual proof, and that Gerard Argent’s own plans proved its falsehood. Or like him deciding that Allison (and by extension her whole family) must be good for no other reason than he loves her; straight out ignoring every single time not just Allison, but all the Argents attacked someone, even when Allison herself tried to kill everyone in the Hale pack, and when Victoria Argent tried to kill Scott himself!
So, in the end, Stiles doesn’t see the point in trying to explain things to Scott when he’s not going to listen anyway. The one thing he doesn’t expect is when Scott roars, loud, before throwing himself at Stiles. Peter tries to block him again, but Scott seems to be more prepared for him this time, raking his claws down Peter’s chest, deep enough for blood to come pouring out.
“Peter!!!” Noah screams.
He pulls out his gun, shooting at Scott repeatedly, completely ignoring Melissa when she yells for him to stop (the whole thing is her fault, anyway, she’s the one who freed Scott!). His priority is his lover, not the crazy wolf who just tried to kill him for no reason! Or the woman who keeps yelling about her ‘perfect son’ and him being ‘so good’ when he just tried to kill someone in front of all of them!
Still, because the bullets have no wolfsbane, they do very little to Scott, who ignores the injuries and crouches, roaring and preparing to leap at Stiles. At least until Derek abruptly lands in front of his mate, braces himself, and lets out a stentorian roar practically in Scott’s face.
Derek’s roar is much more than just voice, there’s power in it, enough to make the walls of the stadium shake and the very earth under their feet vibrate.
For a moment Scott stands his ground, teeth bared and the beginnings of a growl in the back of his throat. It doesn’t last long. Scott might have risen to the position of True Alpha by the force of his own convictions (most people would call it bullheadedness, actually) but when the thing at the core of those convictions is a refusal to follow other people’s orders… Scott didn’t make it to the rank of alpha because he had a pack that believed in him, that thought he was worthy of the rank; he didn’t make it there because he understood the burden inherent in being a leader and was willing to shoulder that responsibility for the good of his pack. Because deep down Scott has never understood what a pack is, he still doesn’t.
It’s a tenet of werewolf life (of all shifters, really) all can rise, and all can fall: Alpha, Beta, Omega.
And so, just like Scott McCall once rose to alphahood; on this day, he falls.
Crimson eyes start flickering more and more. And then, just before Derek’s roar tapers off, it happens, crimson-red turns into electric-blue and Scott takes a stumbling step back, then another, and a third, before dropping down to his knees, head tilted to the side, neck bared.
And just like that. It’s over.
xXx
It’s actually not that simple. Much as Stiles might wish it were.
Scott McCall, just like Alan Deaton and Christopher Argent, is no longer their problem. While the hunter has been remanded to a federal prison for a very, very long list of crimes, and the druid found himself being sacrificed to the nemeton as part of the final rite to cleanse the node (the Druid Council deciding it was the appropriate punishment after all the damage Deaton has caused to the nemeton throughout the years). Scott for his part was sent to a ranch in Texas owned by a pack that had the supernatural version of a Reintegration Center. They’ll do their best to teach Scott to move on with his life as if he were seeking to rejoin society after a stint in prison or rehab; also, as a new beta (the pack are well aware of the fact that Scott was a True Alpha, as well as his total lack of interest on learning how to be an alpha, or even a beta). If all goes well, in a few months to a year the pack will be putting Scott in contact with a new pack willing to take him in, somewhere where he’ll be able to start a new life.
Stiles doesn’t love Scott, not anymore, not for many years. And yet… There’s a part of him that still remembers the boy that was once his best friend, his brother. Even with latter events coloring his memories, making him notice things he might not have at first, Stiles knows there will always be a part of him that remembers Scott McCall with some fondness. The boy was there for Stiles when no one else was, when the loss of his mom and of all his friends from Europe (at the same time his dad was lost in his own grief, and with Mirele on the other side of the country) left Stiles feeling so very alone… And so Stiles honestly hopes things will work out for Scott. That he’ll finally be able to accept his life and be happy with it.
Melissa gave them some trouble early on. She’d drop by the Sheriff’s Station, the Auto Shop, as well as the Hale and Stilinski houses (and even Peter’s apartment once!) demanding answers to all sorts of questions, about Alan Deaton, Chris Argent, and of course her son. It was Noah who eventually put a stop to it all.
“Melissa, you need to stop,” he told her.
“But…” she began.
“No,” he cut her off. “You’re not Argent’s wife, nor anything of Dr. Deaton’s. You have no right to any information regarding them. And I know you’re Scott’s mother, but he’s not a child anymore. If he wishes to share his whereabouts with you he will do so, but we won’t be interfering in this matter. Scott McCall is not our responsibility.”
For a moment Melissa actually stared at Noah with a somewhat mulish expression, as if she expected his expression alone to force him to change his mind. She relented a moment later.
She had so many questions… The things she’d heard in the days following the confrontation in the stadium, there’s so much she still doesn’t understand. It’s… Stiles is alive and, and he was in that awful place that appeared on the news years earlier, the illegal prison in the desert. And some were saying that it was Christopher and her own son that put him there. But that… that cannot be true! Can it? Her son… Her Scott is a good boy, there’s no way he could do something like that. And to Stiles? They’re best friends! Aren’t they…? She doesn’t know, and that terrifies her.
Still, Argent, Deaton and McCall are very much not their problem. And even Melissa eventually seems to understand that if she wants to find out the truth she must ask the questions to her son, since they won’t be giving her anything.
The real issue is… pretty much everyone else in the McCall pack.
The first one they come face to face with is Liam.
“What am I supposed to do now?” he asks them in the end.
“What are you…?” Stiles begins, before abruptly trailing off. “Liam, correct me if I’m wrong, but you don’t even live in this country anymore!”
“Ah… I… yes?” Liam stutters a bit.
“Is that a question or an answer?” Stiles asks gently.
Stiles is actually smiling at the younger man. He’s always liked Liam. His young pup, as he used to refer to him. Even when he drove Stiles crazy, Stiles cared for him. And there’s just something about Stiles smiling at him, like he used to all those years ago, that settles Liam, calms down his wolf and allows even the human side of him to relax, much like it used to back then (Stiles was always good at that; really, he was much better at teaching Liam control than Scott, or even Derek, ever were).
“An answer,” Liam answers with a small smile of his own. “Hikari and I live in Japan; Niigata, to be precise. We work at her family’s restaurant.”
“Sounds good,” Stiles nods encouragingly.
“It is!” Liam nods.
“So then, why are you so worried now?” Derek finally asks him.
“Well, you always said that pack was important, an alpha is important,” Liam explains. “But, well, I don’t have an alpha anymore. And I… I’m not quite sure what I should even do about that.”
“Tell me something Liam, and I want you to think it over very carefully before giving me an answer,” Derek states, solemnly yet not unkindly. “Did your wolf truly see Scott as alpha?”
The question seems to shock Liam, just for a moment. It also makes Hikari look at all three of them by turns, a considering expression on her face. Stiles suspects she has an idea not just of the answer to that particular question, but also of what will be coming next. Because Stiles and Derek are pretty sure they already know what Liam’s answer is gonna be.
“No,” the younger wolf finally admits. “No I… I tried, you know? I mean, he’s the one who turned me and… I suppose he did try to be there for me, at least at first but…”
He hesitates, either unsure or just not entirely comfortable speaking badly about someone a part of his instincts tell him he should respect (even if there’s another instinct in him denying that).
“But Scottie has ever had issues with committing himself to… well pretty much anything,” Stiles finishes rather bluntly.
Anything: like his best-friend, when he happens to get a few more friends himself; or his pack, whenever a pretty girl flirts with him; or even the girl he was supposedly so involved with, when she happens to just not be in town anymore!
“So… what am I supposed to do now?” And just like that, they’re back to the original question.
“I can make some calls,” Stiles offers. “I mean, I don’t actually have any contacts in Japan, but I have friends in lots of other places, and I’m sure someone will know someone who can get us in touch with a local alpha.”
“Still, something you must know, is that while it is good to have an alpha, as it’ll make you stronger, will allow you to feel more secure; even without an alpha, if you have a pack, but more importantly, an anchor, that’s all you truly need to be alright.” Derek explains to him, to them both.
No one can possibly miss the way Hikari takes one of Liam’s hands in both of hers, pulling it to her, pressed towards her chest.
“He has it, he has me,” she states with quiet confidence.
“Then I’m sure our pup is in perfectly good hands, no matter what,” Stiles nods with satisfaction.
Liam actually blushes. Whining under his breath about not being a pup anymore, which makes everyone else laugh.
Mason and Corey are a non-issue. While there was a time when Mason was training with Deaton to become a druid and hopefully one day be the McCall pack’s emissary, that never came to be as both Deaton and Scott left Beacon Hills with no explanation and next to no warning to anyone, not even their so-called pack. Mason is human, and with Corey being one of the chimeras, neither of them truly needs a pack, which has helped them greatly.
“You need us, you call us, but aside from that, I’ve got absolutely no problem staying out of things,” Corey summarizes after they’ve both expressed their opinions on the matter.
The Hale Pack is just fine with that too.
Jackson has a question, though it’s not one either of the Hale Pack Alphas were expecting.
“You want to come back?” Stiles asks, the disbelief clear in his tone (and it’s not that he thinks there’s anything wrong with the idea, but he’d honestly thought Jackson loved NY!).
“Nothing against the Reagan Pack,” Jackson hurries to reassure them. “They’re all great. They’ve done a lot for both Ethan and myself, helped us find our footing in a way our alpha in London never truly could but… The problem isn’t them, it’s… New York… it…”
“It isn’t home,” Derek finishes for him.
He understands, of course. He’s been there. There’s a reason why he chose to stay in Beacon Hills, even after Laura’s death (a reason beyond wanting to do right by Scott, or any matter of a Hale legacy), and to come back after Mirele’s. Despite all the tragedies and the horror and the sheer madness, no place has ever been as much a home to him as Beacon Hills. It’s Hale Land, after all.
“You will always be welcome here, Jackson,” Derek assures him. “Both in this land, and in our pack.”
That… something in Jackson seems to settle, as he hears those words. Stiles isn’t even surprised when the new packbond begins forming right then and there. Jackson might not have talked to his mate yet, or to Alpha Reagan, but those are just details.
The matter of Jordan is easily solved. As a hellhound he doesn’t actually need a pack. Having one does help him, as it serves as an anchor, for both his human and hellhound sides. Turns out that at least part of the reason why he had some trouble calling on hellfire when faced with the magical mountain ash barrier at the stadium was that he’d avoided using his hellhound abilities for so long that a part of him just didn’t actually remember how to access them anymore! This was because without a pack, calling on those abilities was hard, but harder even was to find himself as a human again afterwards. So for years it was easier for him to just not do it. It also helped that once Monroe and her sycophants were dealt with there weren’t quite as many crimes he as a hellhound would need to cover up.
Neither Stiles nor Derek really ask him why he didn’t just join the McCall pack, it’s perfectly clear to the both of them: there’s no part of Jordan that has ever or could ever respect Scott, certainly not enough to see him as a superior, an alpha.
Malia is on the same boat, though at least her coyote doesn’t need an alpha. Though as she explains, there was a time when she did need help not to go feral.
“Noah helped me a lot,” she explains, looking straight at Stiles. “At the start. When Scott and I first broke up and… and we all thought you were dead. There was a time when I felt like things would be so much better if I just shifted and never came back…” she whines low in the back of her throat. “Noah let me stay at his place. Sleep… sleep in your bed for a few weeks, until I no longer felt the coyote inside my head clawing at me all the time.” She turns to Derek. “Derek’s return to Beacon Hills helped a lot too. But there at the beginning, it was all Noah. I owe a lot to your dad, Stiles.”
Stiles just smiles, glad that his dad was able to help Malia when he couldn’t. Also, while none of them might be saying it, he has no doubt that Malia’s presence would have helped his dad too, given him someone to look after, someone to focus on, rather than just the belief that his son was dead…
The biggest issue ends up being (unsurprisingly) with Lydia. Even after explaining to her what’s happened, not just in the last couple of days, but since Stiles killed Monroe she won’t settle. Going back to things over and over again. It doesn’t matter how many times Derek and Stiles try to explain things, or to get her to calm down, she won’t accept it.
“Just, what’s really the problem Lydia?” Stiles eventually asks, tired.
“You didn’t tell me a thing!” Lydia yells (thankfully without any of her banshee power behind it). “You didn’t trust me!”
“No, I didn’t,” Stiles agrees rather calmly.
That, more than anything else, seems to give the redhead pause. It’s clear she wasn’t expecting him to just agree with that statement. Probably expect him to evade, or use false platitudes, anything but just agree that he didn’t trust her.
“Why…?” she asks, clearly not understanding, and hating that.
“Why…? Stiles parrots, then shakes his head. “Lydia, why would I have told you anything?”
“Wha…?” she seems honestly offended by that. “We were friends, pack… I loved you!”
“No, you didn’t,” Stiles shakes his head. “Don’t try to rewrite history, Lydia. You never loved me, you loved how devoted I was to you. That’s all that was. Why else would keep going hot and cold on me for our entire high-school career? It was until you had no other options that you finally gave me a chance, or at least pretended to. And of course, as soon as you were in college, had better prospects, you dropped me like a hot potato!”
“That wasn’t… It wasn’t like that!” She exclaims.
“Come on, are you really gonna try to sell me the same story you used on others?” Stiles asks in a drawl, shaking his head.
“It’s not a story!” Lydia snaps. “I saw you die!”
“You had a nightmare, we all do, it’s par for the course with the lives we lead,” he shrugs.
If she had any idea the kind of nightmares he has nowadays, and not all of them are caused by his time in the Citadel…
“I saw you die!” she insists.
“Just like I’ve dreamt of my father, and my pack, and so many others dying, so many times,” Stiles retorts. “Doesn’t mean I was going to push them away.” Before she can retort to that, he adds: “Tell me, did you scream? My name, I mean. In that portentous dream you say you kept having back then, did you wail my name?”
He knows the answer already. They both do.
He doesn’t ask if she ever felt the urge to wail his name afterwards. Or how come the fact that she never did didn’t clue her in to the fact that he wasn’t dead, that Scott had lied… In the end there’s no point, Lydia’s already decided she’s not to blame for anything that’s happened, and no matter what they tell her, nothing will make her take responsibility for any of it. That’s just who Lydia is, wanting to know everything yet not owning to anything unless she has to.
“Lydia, why don’t you just… just go back home, back to your life, and forget about all of this?” Stiles asks her.
Derek hasn’t said a word, and he won’t. He knows Lydia doesn’t respect him, doesn’t care for him being an alpha, or the power he holds in the territory. With the way she grew up well… he knows her parents did a number on her. It’s probably not surprising that she’d refuse to accept other people having any sort of power over her, especially men. Even Scott, who was supposed to be her alpha, she never really submitted to him. She certainly won’t submit to Derek. And Derek’s just fine with that, he has no interest in having people in his pack who don’t want to be there. So he’s happy enough to let Stiles handle things with her.
“What…?” Lydia actually stutters. “I can’t just do that!”
“Why not?” Stiles asks with a shrug. “It’s what you did twelve years ago. I know you didn’t come back to Beacon Hills, even after finishing your doctorate. And even when you got your fancy new job and the move to San Francisco, you still didn’t come here. You never cared to. Not to return, or to even find out how things were. So why this burning need now?”
“You used me!” Lydia screeches (thankfully her voice is still entirely human). “With that dark ritual, and Allison…”
“That wasn’t Allison,” Stiles cuts her off. “And ‘we’ didn’t use you. That was the nogitsune, and it’s dead now. Keep the blame where it belongs. I… we won’t be taking responsibility for things we didn’t do just to appease you Lydia, not anymore. What happened wasn’t our fault. The nogitsune sent you dreams, yes, but you, and the others, were the ones who chose to act on them. Despite not knowing their origins, despite having no idea what the consequences would be…”
“We thought we were bringing back Allison!”
“Really? After everything that’s happened, while knowing how messed up the nemeton is; and especially, while knowing enough about magic that you should have realized nothing is ever that simple… you just thought you could bring Allison back?!”
“Peter came back!”
“What has that got to do with anything?!”
“If a monster like him could come back, why not Allison? Why not my best friend?!”
“There are so many answers for that question, but I don’t think you really care, do you Lydia? In the end I don’t think it’s even about Allison, not really. You, just like almost everyone else, mourned her and moved on from her death a long time ago.” Like pretty much everyone but Argent, really (even Scott had basically moved on already!). “No, the real issue here is that things didn’t go the way you wanted them to. You hate whenever you’re not in control.”
Lydia lets out a sound from the back of her throat that’s almost a snarl but she doesn’t really say a word; because in the end she knows Stiles is right. Much as she might hate it, might never admit it, he’s right and they both know it.
“Go home, Lydia,” Stiles tells her, strongly yet not unkindly. “Go home and forget about Beacon Hills, about us. Just… move on with your life.”
“Just like that?” she asks in a somewhat disbelieving tone.
“Just like that,” he agrees.
He researched the company she’s working for, she knows they’re planning on an expansion to the other coast in a few months, a year at most; he’s even heard some rumors that she’s at the top of the very short list of people to head the new office. He hopes that when the offer comes, she’ll take it. She’ll be so much happier, far and away from Beacon Hills, from the pack, from the past…
xXx
“Something I don’t understand is, what was the fox’s plan, exactly?” Eli asks, eventually.
It’s been several weeks, Eli is sixteen now and working towards his qualifications in order to get a provisional license, his dads having already promised he’ll get Roscoe. (Derek moaned and griped about it, but he personally had done a complete overhaul of the Jeep, he knows it’s perfectly safe; also, Stiles called in a couple of favors to get it warded seven ways to Sunday).
The nemeton has been cleansed. The Druid Council has sent a druid (one vetted personally by Sofiya) to stand watch over the nemeton, at least for the time being. The pack is still hoping that as things improve in the territory other supernaturals will move into town and eventually one will be the right kind of individual to serve as guardian of the grove, and perhaps even the pack’s emissary.
The Hale Pack is now fully established in their territory. Stiles is still living under the name of Mietek Gajos (Gajos-Hale nowadays, actually, he’s made the name change official and everything), though everyone in town knows him to be the former Stiles Stilinski, their sheriff’s son. There’s all sorts of rumors going around regarding his name change and where he was for all those years: the main one being that it was part of some sort of witness protection deal or something, though the reasons vary: from him having gone after some very dangerous criminals during a brief stint with the FBI, or even afterwards, to him having been involved in the whole ‘desert prison’ thing a few years back (though even the rumors don’t agree if he was a prisoner there, or part of the rescue). Stiles lets the rumors continue, grow and change in every which way; sometimes rumors can be incredibly useful! Also, as long as there are no official explanations he can deny anything if necessary.
Stiles received reports of the interrogations done on Christopher Argent, Scott McCall and Alan Deaton before the first was sent to prison, the second to the ranch and the third sacrificed. While Stiles would not say he learned anything particularly new; as he’d known already that all three men were insane and quite delusional, if not exactly in the same way.
Christopher Argent… Stiles isn’t sure if it’s the way men are raised in hunter culture. Meant to be soldiers, to follow orders and nothing else. It’s like the man just didn’t know what to do without a woman there to give him orders. At the same time, believing that almost feels like lessening the man’s own culpability in things. Like he isn’t the one who chose to blame Stiles even knowing that the nogitsune was to blame and not the human it possessed. Like, not two months earlier, he didn’t go into things planning to bring his daughter back from the dead; especially when, from everyone involved in the mess, he was the only one fully aware of the actual cost something like that would have. And there was no doubt he was quite willing to kill whoever he had to, as many people as he was asked to, in order to bring Allison back.
And the thing is, even if he’d done it, if he had gone through with the whole thing. It still wouldn’t have brought Allison back. Though he didn’t know that… Stiles knows Alannah Sullivan has tried to explain things to Argent, explaining in many different ways why his plan was never going to work, but the man refused to listen, just like he always refused to accept Stiles’ innocence. Back then he needed someone to blame, someone he could actually be angry at and, eventually, go after. Just like now he needs to believe that he could have gotten his daughter back, otherwise what was the point?
Perhaps the only true surprise was finding out that Scott and Deaton were both basically innocent of the most recent mess. Scott had been manipulated by the nogitsune, same as Lydia (Argent’s involvement was more complicated, because while the fox technically did manipulate him, to a point, at the same time it was Argent himself who arranged for the other hunter to attack Liam and his girlfriend in Japan and release the nogitsune from its prison in the first place; he also arranged for the fires, both to procure the mountain ash, and to plant certain suggestion’s in the pack’s mind, thus aiding the illusions). Though to be fair, Stiles supposes they didn’t need much in the way of manipulation, once they believed they had a chance at getting Allison back. Deaton didn’t even need to be manipulated in any way; it’s quite possible he even realized how impossible the group’s goals were, and he went along with it all anyway, seeing the whole thing as an opportunity to get his hooks back into the Beacon Hills’ nemeton most likely.
Regarding the nogitsune’s plans… Well, they cannot know for sure, of course, it’s not like they can ask. But well, considering the things they do know, the way the nogitsune chose to go about things this time around… and well, even the fox said that Stiles was the clever one.
“I mean, it was all so insane,” Eli goes on. “Like, why bring back Allison Argent at all? Or pretend to, anyway. What did it gain from that?”
“Something you need to understand Eli, is nogitsune are creatures of chaos,” Stiles explains. “They thrive in it. Feed on grief and pain. There’s a reason why vengeance is their shtick.”
“So, it made up all those things about the fake Argent to make everyone hurt?” Eli guesses.
“In part,” Stiles nods.
“Think about it, cub,” Peter tells him kindly. “Think about everything that happened during those two days. McCall and his friends did a lot of crazy things, trying to bring back Argent. And to help her. How many more insane things would they have done if they had gone on believing the lie for longer? Weeks? Months? Years…?”
“I don’t think it was meant to go on for that long,” Stiles admits, very quietly. “Just about nine months give or take.”
Eyes go wide and mouths open as everyone starts absorbing the implications of that. Hisses, growls and some pretty colorful curses can be heard across the room. The most elaborate, surprisingly, coming from none other than Noah, who gets pretty creative as he mixes English, Spanish and even Polish. Cora’s the only one who doesn’t react at all, having heard all about Stiles’ theory the day everything went down. While Eli limits himself to making a face and a loud ‘ew!’.
It truly is disgusting, also disturbing, and very terrifying. Because if Stiles’ theory is correct, if that was truly the nogitsune’s plan (and he’s tried to think of other possibilities, of other reasons for the nogitsune to have not only created a homunculus of Allison and make Scott and the others believe it was the real one; but there are also other things, like the fact that he aged her up, and the way the fake Allison seemed to attach herself to Scott very quickly, despite the fact that, at the time of her death, Allison had been with Isaac, not Scott)… the idea of the nogitsune being able to gain a body, a life, like that… and not just any body but, what would things have been like, with the void-fox in the body of a child believed to be the son of the Argent Matriarch and a True Alpha werewolf? A terrifying prospect indeed.
“Lets just be glad it never happened,” Cora declares. “The nogitsune failed, again, And this time it’s well and truly dead.”
“Agreed,” Stiles nods.
Everyone nods. That’s indeed something for them all to be very glad about.
And then Luna lets out a very loud wail (for such a tiny baby she has such lungs on her already) and the attention of every single member of the pack immediately turns to the baby girl. They have much better things to focus on than what could have happened, after all.
Epilogue.
It’s a sunny summer morning when the message comes: Scott is dead. It’s a basic courtesy email that carries the message and the circumstances: Scott died during a terrible fire in an apartment building, not far from the animal shelter where he worked. Presumably he went inside after overhearing some children crying about their pets, which were inside; the firefighters were refusing to go in and were keeping everyone from going in, as the danger was pretty high (there was a cafe/bakery on the ground floor of the building, and while the fire had started on the second floor, the chances of the flames reaching the ground floor, and the bakery’s gas tanks any moment were pretty high). Scott ignored them and went in. He didn’t make it back out.
Stiles isn’t entirely surprised. Scott never changed. Forever wanting to be the one in the right, the one with all the answers, to be hailed the hero… never listening to anyone whose opinion might differ from his own, anyone who might tell him no, or really, anyone who might try to exercise any form of authority over him, not even for his own good. He only listened to his Alpha as little as he could (and Stiles theorized that the only reason he did even that much was because the alpha was a woman: Scott was always more confrontational with male figures of authority than female ones).
Truth is, Stiles really isn’t surprised that Scott ended up getting himself killed. And especially in a tragic situation that could have been entirely avoided if he had just, for once, listened to those who knew better than him.
In any case, he takes the information for what it is: the knowledge that it’s all over.
It’s not… he’s not been worrying about things all these years, not at all. It’s not like he’s been waiting for the day when Scott might ‘see the light’, repent for his mistakes, make amends for all the ways he hurt Stiles, and the Hales. Stiles knew from the start that would never happen. For the simple reason that Scott would never accept he’d done anything wrong at all. He won’t even try to pretend he forgave the other man, but then again, unlike what some people might believe, Stiles knows that forgiveness isn’t truly necessary for closure, or for moving on, and he’s done both. Truly, the moment Scott stopped being a risk to him and his pack Stiles put him out of his mind entirely. The message, in the end, was simply a courtesy, from Scott’s last alpha, who would have been well aware of her beta’s history; and of course, every member of the North American Shadow-World knows who the Hale Pack are, and especially who alpha-mate and guardian Mietek ‘Stiles’ Gajos-Hale is.
Christopher Argent is dead as well. Has been for a while now, having committed suicide not quite a year after his arrest and incarceration. His death went mostly unnoticed to the wider world, despite how famous (and later infamous) the Argent name had been, and Stiles was never sure if that was due to authorities trying to keep quiet that the prison wardens didn’t realize one of their inmates was planning on committing suicide in time to stop it (possibly even wanting to avoid so much as a suggestion that they knew and allowed it to happen); or if it was simply that people no longer cared.
Truth is, as huge as the Citadel case might have been at one point, the average person has long since forgotten all about it. Just like they forgot all about Arson-Argent (what the news took to calling Kate Argent after the FBI managed to find out just how many fires she ended up causing), and so many other psychotic serial killers that either the FBI, Interpol, the guardians (or at times all of them working together) have put away throughout the years.
Things have been pretty good for the Hale Pack in the intervening years:
Derek and Stiles have made a name for themselves, both as the alphas of the reborn Hale Pack; which keeps growing, not just with the children, both biological and adopted of several of its members, but also a number of individuals who’ve requested admittance into the pack: from shifters who’ve lost their packs (not just wolves, either. Nowadays they also have about a dozen werecats, a handful of werecoyotes and even a small family of werebears). They’ve also made a name for themselves as the leaders of the guardians, who’ve proven themselves that they’re nothing like the hunters (even the Lanes are accepted nowadays, and Stiles knows for a fact that while the mating between Matthew Lane and Nikki Reagan might have helped, it wasn’t just that) and can be trusted by all in the shadow-world.
Jackson and Ethan returned to Beacon Hills during that summer. Jackson joined Peter’s firm; working for him a few years before eventually taking it over, when the wolf chose to retire to spend more time with Noah, while Ethan was an elementary school teacher. They eventually adopted a couple of orphaned boys, brothers, one of whom had been bitten by a feral alpha in Nevada.
Through Jackson Stiles found out that Lydia was no longer in the country. Apparently, before she could get the job offer Stiles was sure would be coming her way, she’d chosen to accept a different one from a company in Switzerland that’d apparently been courting her for years, she just had never thought to accept the offer before.
Stiles knew Jackson believed it might have been because of the packbond, that being part of the McCall Pack made Lydia feel in some way that she couldn’t leave. Stiles doubted it. Truth be told he doubted the McCall Pack had any packbonds at all (how would Scott have gone about maintaining such bonds, or even forming them, when he knew next to nothing about being a werewolf? He never cared to learn! Shielding himself with the insistence that he wanted to be human, like just repeating that statement over and over would change anything at all!). No, in the end Stiles believed that Lydia hadn’t left before, for the same reason she dated Stiles for over a year despite never truly being in love with him. She was as afraid of failure as she was of being alone. And just like it was once easier for her to be with Stiles, rather than putting herself out there; it was easier to take what she already had rather than taking a chance and possibly not succeeding.
Stiles doesn’t think that’s the best way to live but then what does he know?! Lydia’s not his problem anyway.
Noah remained as the sheriff a few more years after the final battle against the nogitsune, taking the time to teach Jordan everything he needed before finally retiring. He was so beloved still (and Jordan so well-liked) that when he gave his recommendation for Jordan as the new sheriff no one even tried to run against him during the elections!
With the nemeton cleansed and slowly but surely regrowing things were much better in town. The first druid sent to watch over things moved on when a young woman called Billie Jenkins moved to town from San Francisco, she was a witch rather than a druid, but it was she whom the nemeton chose as a guardian. She joined the pack as its Emissary, though most of the time she spent it managing her restaurant/club. The ground floor was a restaurant, while the second floor was a bar/dance club. It was located in a building similar to the one where Derek had once lived, and in fact Billie lived in the top floor, retrofitted to serve as an apartment. She also rented out the smaller apartments on the floors in between hers and the businesses, mostly to her own workers (the majority of whom were actually other members of the Hale Pack), as she’d chosen to buy and pay for the remodel of the whole building when first moving to town.
Noah made a point to take several long vacations to various places with Peter on the first years following his official retirement; then, when he was starting to get bored, he began working as a law enforcement liaison for the guardians; particularly with small towns where the locals responded better to someone like him, a retired sheriff, than a federal agent like Hotch. He was also very good when they needed to read-in someone new, regarding the existence of the supernatural.
Malia had three children, all girls, all from Jordan. At her request, they had the name Hale, rather than Parrish, or Tate. She also surprised everyone when, shortly after her youngest’s first birthday, she went and proposed to Jordan (after refusing his own marriage proposal… twice). He kept his name but she chose to take the name Hale.
“I loved my dad,” she said for all explanation. “And I know he loved me. But after the death of Mama, and Kylie… I don’t think he ever forgave me, for coming back when they didn’t. I’m not sure if I’ll ever fully see Peter as a father, but you are my family, my pack. And I think it’s time that was acknowledged.”
Cora went back to wandering around the world once baby Luna was old enough to be without her, leaving her for Stiles and Derek to raise on their own and choosing to be seen more as an aunt than a mother by the girl. She knows her own origins of course, and understands that Cora not being there doesn’t mean she doesn’t love her too, they’ve each made their own choices, and in the end Luna is a very loved child, by everyone in their family/pack.
Eli absolutely loves his baby-sister, loved her from the moment she was placed in his arms, the day after the nogitsune mess. Funnily enough, he loved her so much it was next to impossible to convince him he should accept the offer he got from Stanford for Med School.
“Do you know how hard it is to get into Stanford’s School of Medicine?” Stiles asked when he heard about Eli considering not going.
“I…” The boy hesitated.
“They have the lowest acceptance rate from all med schools in the country, and you got in!” Stiles explains. “That’s huge, and we’re so proud of you…”
“I just… I don’t want to leave the pack…” Eli said quietly.
“You know we’ll still be here when you come back, don’t you?” Derek asked him gently. “You’re not going to lose us just for going away for a few years. We’ll still be your family, your pack.”
“You know we wouldn’t force you, if you really didn’t want to go,” Stiles added. “But the thing is that, you wouldn’t have sought admittance into Stanford if you didn’t want to go. And we all know how much you want to be a doctor…”
“You have to go Eli!” Luna yelled as she jumped on her big brother. “So you can become a doc and then come back and help heal everyone!”
Eventually Eli felt convinced and left for Stanford. He still made sure to return as often as he possibly could. That became harder and harder the more he advanced in his studies, but while his pack missed him (Luna certainly did!) they knew it was important for him, becoming a doctor. Also, because he’d taken advantage of the fact that Stanford was one of the universities in the country that had ‘shadow courses’ (which were basically college courses aimed at the supernatural), that meant more work. In Eli’s case, he wasn’t just studying how to be a doctor, in general terms, but was also taking all the courses he could about medicine involving the supernatural (everything from treatment of injuries made to supernatural beings, to those caused by them, or by magic).
And now… today they’re all here to celebrate the appointment of a brand new doctor to Beacon Hills Memorial: Dr. Eli Hale!
This is fabulous! I basically swallowed it whole, as first I couldn’t stop reading until Stiles got out of That Place, and then I needed to know what would happen next. Besides, by then my ‘schedule’ was shot anyway!
I love your world building, the Welsh connections and the warrior training. Love the way Stiles & Derek were able to maintain a connection while Stiles was imprisoned, so that at least someone knew not to give up on him.
Basically I just love the whole thing. Thank you!
Sorry about your shot schedule, but glad you enjoyed the fic nonetheless.
This fic began with me wanting to write a fully-human Hunter!Stiles (meaning no-magic) and then it turned into a hell of a lot more.
I’m really glad the worldbuilding worked well.
As for the connection between Stiles and Derek. It didn’t seem right, for them to not have something during those years apart. And I’ve always loved that scene in the locker-room, in Derek’s hallucination/dream.
So, once again, thank you for reading and commenting!
A wonderful and wild ride for sure. I love this variation on some of your other fics and on your own headcanon, with Stiles rejecting his heritage and it coming back to find him anyway. Also, the way Stiles and Derek’s lives interweave, with both the shared history of Eli and the shared dreams, is fascinating.
And, yeah, I’m always up for Scott getting put in his place. 😻
Thanks. I’ve always seen so many possibilities.
For this fic I wanted to write something where Stiles had no magic and he embraced the work of a Hunter… though since Hunters are the bad guys I had to give them another name.
Also, I’ve always loved Derek’s dream in the locker room and all its implications. The things even JD admitted to, though simply never included in the show for reasons (won’t go into them here as it’ll turn into a rant).
I really, really don’t like Scott. Most of the time in my fics he’ll end up either as a bad guy, or as just… unimportant. Depends on what’s convenient for the fic.
Thanks for reading and commenting
Great story!
Wonderful story. Was really surprised when the hostage Stiles and Will protected turned out to be Jack Hotchner and I’m guessing that the hostage named Beth was Beth Turner from Moonlight and of curse Logan, the Naval Intelligence Officer from Neptune was Logan Echolls from Veronica Mars (LOL at including two series that starred Jason Dohring) and I’m going with the idea that the car bomb was a coverup to his being kidnapped by the hunters and he went home to his wife Veronica.
Scott was a real sociopath in this story, thinking that a month would be more that enough time to get over the loss of a loved one (in this case a son) and be ready to move on with a new “son”, and I think part of his reasoning for asking Chris to make sure Stiles was dead was him deciding that he “deserved” Noah for a father and didn’t want to share him with his actual son.
Yes, those were in fact Beth Turner and Logan Echolls. I didn’t actually stop to think about the fact that both tv shows have the same actor. And yeah, the car bomb was meant to be a cover-up. It was convenient that Veronica doesn’t actually see Logan die. I imagine Logan hunting down Veronica and then spending a while working to convince her that he’s truly Logan… Then she’d absolutely join the FBI and the Hale Pack in making the hunters pay.
You know I didn’t picture Scott as a sociopath when I wrote this? I mean, I hate it, don’t take me wrong. But in my mind Scott has always been this man-child that just doesn’t grow up, refuses to. He’s the boy who grew up sick, with a mom that loved him, and lots of people who were so considerate of him, who made allowances for him, who took pity on him because he was sick (or because his dad left, and his mom had to work so much). But he never saw it like that. He came to believe that people treated him like that because he deserved it. That he was Owed all that. And then he was no longer sick, but that mindset remained… It’s a very dangerous way of seeing things.
Scott believes he’s the perfect son, because that’s what he’s been lead to believe. And Deaton and the whole True Alpha just pushed those delusions higher.
With his own dad having left, the image Scott has of the perfect dad is the sheriff. And yeah, Noah wasn’t perfect. But what Scott saw was the sheriff being there when necessary but otherwise giving Stiles all the freedom, being there for all his games, and when there was an emergency. So, in Scott’s mind, he’s the perfect son and thus deserves the perfect father…
And yeah, like you said, Chris was just a means to an end. Scott knew he wanted to make Stiles pay, and that was convenient.
Cora as the baby incubator is cool, lol. I like Luna’s name.
The casting for Susan Lane just made that whole interaction so much better. Great choice!
Yeah, druid balance is fucked up.
Interesting how things have progressed so far and yet no one from the old pack knows about any of it? No one recognized Stiles? Really?
Scott is still cray-cray. Why did everyone just go along with the crazy? He gets blue eyes, too? Who did he kill?
Deaton getting sacrificed to fix the Nemeton is perfect. Chris in jail is where he belongs for this story. I also like how Stiles sends Lydia on her way without issue. Scott was an idiot; though death by fire is kinda karma for how he looked down on the Hale murders, I guess.
Thanks for the story! It was an interesting read with unique concepts.
Glad you liked Susan’s dreamcast. I kept thinking of Ripley like, if instead of aliens she’d had to battle feral werewolves and the like. And now she just wants to retire.
What the druids call balance make absolutely no sense at all. Especially the idea that the Earth needs them to make it happen.
On the no one recognizing Stiles. Funny thing, first time I watched American Assassin I didn’t know that was Dylan O’Brien. I already knew Teen Wolf, was a fan and all, but I swear that when I watched the movie I didn’t recognize the actor. Not until we got to the end where he’s cut his hair and shaved and he actually looks like an older version of Stiles. So I do believe the possibility of others not recognizing him if he just lets his hair grow, and some facial hair too.
In my head Scott isn’t necessarily a bad person, hes’s a man-child who was never forced to grow up. Basically growing up as the sick kid of a divorced mom, surrounded by people who took pity on him (and on Melissa) made him grow up entitled. He came to believe he deserved all sorts of things. Which only seemed to be reinforced with the whole True-Alpha shtick.
As for why everyone went along with it… It happens all the time. People who just don’t want to have to think, or perhaps it’s jut that they don’t want to be the ones to make the decisions, to have to carry the responsibility, so it’s easier for them to just follow others. And with Scott so convinced that he knew, and Deaton stating that he was this great True Alpha…
The blue eyes… I follow the belief that blue eyes aren’t literally about killing others, but rather about the guilt. Much as Scott might not want to admit it out-loud, he does know he’s guilty for a lot of things. That he as good as killed Stiles. He might have come back, but that wasn’t thanks to Scott. Also, I don’t remember if it’s said outright or not, but by both his actions and inactions during his time as Alpha, people have died; Scott was at least indirectly responsible for those deaths.
Deaton being sacrificed to fix what he broke is karma.
Same with Chris going to jail after he had no compunction about sending Stiles to such a place.
Lydia wasn’t bad, she just didn’t belong there anymore.
You know, when I wrote Scott’s death I didn’t consider that. My sister has been binge-watching the Rookie and there’s this episode where Bailey goes into a whole speech about all the ways a fire can kill you and how people who aren’t prepared shouldn’t be going into fires, even if they have the best intentions.
I knew almost from the start that Scott was going to die. Not in battle, and not for anything Stiles, or Derek or any of them did, but because of his own choices. And when I finally got the epilogue I remembered Bailey’s speech and the thought came to me: “Scott would go into the fire anyway, convinced that it wouldn’t happen to him.”
Glad you enjoyed the story. Thank you for reading!
Thanks for replying to all of my long ass comments! <3
It’s my absolute pleasure. I love when readers engage with me. I also love when readers make me think about things, especially if it’s in new directions. (That’s how I created a whole fic-series once!)
Such an enjoyable story!
This was heartbreaking at times, but what a lovely ending.
I loved the idea of fully human Stiles, perpetually underestimated, developing his own skills and being a force to be reckoned with. Such a contrast to Scott, who was given extra powers and made no effort to actually learn about them let alone to train and develop his abilities.
I’m glad you enjoyed.
I wanted to write a story with a Stiles that has no magic, is entirely human, and by his will (and training) proves to be more than capable to keep up with everyone else.
The contrast to Scott never occurred to me, to tell the truth. But I think it fitting. Especially considering all the things Scott does against Stiles here.
In any case. Thanks for reading and commenting. Hope you’ll enjoy other works of mine.