Reading Time: 158 Minutes

Title: Thunder Under the Earth
Series: Betray The Moon
Series Order: 3
Author: halestrom
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Paranormal/Supernatural, Shifters, Time Travel
Relationship(s): Gen
Content Rating: R
Warnings: Violence – Graphic , Non-consensual magic ritual
Author Note: The title is from Hozier’s Work Song. Thanks to Harley for working out the kinks in this story!
Beta: N/A
Word Count: 39,525
Summary: Stiles has lost everything and is willing to do whatever he can to get it back. Even if it means going back in time and fixing everything himself. The only problem is when he wakes up he realizes the world is already different.
Artist: Lalaith Quetzalli

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Part 1

June 11th, 2014

“Help him.”

Stiles jerked awake as his phone rang. He groaned, fighting the headache as he managed to answer it. “Fuck off.”

“Dude!” Scott’s said, sounding panicked and breathy.

“What?” Stiles said, shoving his head under the pillow.

“I need a ride to work. Can you give me one? That fuckin’ smoke from last night killed my asthma,” Scott said.

Stiles was only half paying attention. “What? Just run,” he muttered, wondering why Scott needed a ride.

“Oh, ha fucking ha, dude, I told you it wasn’t my fault that girl spilled her drink all over you,” Scott said before he inhaled noisily. “Seriously, dude. I need a ride. Pleaseeeeee. Deaton’s gonna kill me if I’m late, and you know I need this job to apply for vet school.”

“What?” Stiles asked, trying to wake up so he could make sense of the conversation. “Vet school?”

There was a moment of silence. “You okay, dude? I didn’t think you drank that much.”

Stiles pulled the pillow off his face, trying to think through the pounding headache that did feel like a hangover.

“Stiles!”

Headache forgotten, Stiles sat straight up in bed, staring at his door.

“I’m headed to work. Please don’t forget you promised to mow the lawn for your old man to thank him for not throwing you in the drunk tank last night,” Noah yelled from the bottom floor.

Stiles was half aware of Scott talking on the phone as he stood up and slowly made his way out of his room. He looked around the room as he did so, taking in spines of books he didn’t recognize and a new desk chair that hadn’t been there before.

“Stiles! Ride or no, dude?” Scott demanded.

“Yeah, yeah, what time?” Stiles said, trying not to snap as he made his way down the stairs, adrenaline chasing off the hangover.

“Hour, thanks, dude,” Scott said before hanging up.

Stiles made it to the bottom of the stairs and walked to the kitchen, seeing his Dad standing in his Sherriff uniform, looking alive and well and drinking a cup of coffee fast enough he was grimacing at the heat. Stiles inhaled through his nose, making his Dad turn around and smile at him.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Noah said, his smile fading as he spotted Stiles. “You okay, kid? You look pale.”

Memories assaulted Stiles suddenly. Noah ripped apart by harpies right in front of his eyes. The ghost town filled with bodies and no answers. Stiles’s desperation to get them back and Scott’s angry agreement. Lydia’s last scream. The sacrifice, the blood, the burning.

Help him.

“Stiles?” Noah asked, suddenly in front of him. “What’s wrong?”

Stiles lurched forward, wrapping his Dad up in a hug. Noah returned it instantly, holding Stiles close, a hand cupping the back of his head.

“What’s wrong?” Noah asked.

“I…bad dream,” Stiles said lamely. Not sure how he could explain what he had done. He needed to tell his dad about the supernatural world, but he needed to ease Noah into it.

“Real bad dream I take it,” Noah said, shaking his head as he pulled back. “Want me to take the day? I’m sure Tara can cover.”

Stiles shook his head. “No, I’m good,” he said, pressing a hand over his eyes. “It was too real.”

“This is what happens when you go drinking with Scott to celebrate,” Noah said, ruffling a hand over Stiles’s head.

Stiles nodded, trying to understand what happened through the haze of excited vindication. What his Dad said finally caught up to him. “Celebrate,” he said slowly, trying to figure it out.

Noah shook his head. “Alright, that’s enough of that,” he said, peering at Stiles. “I think you’re still drunk. No driving anywhere.”

“I said I’d take Scott to work,” Stiles replied automatically, still staring at his Dad.

Noah shook his head. “No, call Cora and have her drive.”

Stiles stared at his Dad, still trying to make sense of the world. “What?”

Noah rolled his eyes. “Jesus, kid,” he said, stepping forward and plucking Stiles’s phone out of his hand and holding it up to his mouth. “Call Cora,” Noah said carefully. Stiles could hear the phone ringing before a faint voice came over the line.

“Cora? No, it’s Noah. Can you pick up Stiles? He said he’d drive Scott to work, but I’m pretty sure he’s still drunk,” Noah said, reaching out and pressing the back of his hand against Stiles’s head. “Yeah…no, I think that’s it for his plans as far as I know.”

Stiles shrugged at the intent look, trying to look normal. He had done a ritual to send himself back in time, and it had worked, but he wasn’t sixteen. Except Cora Hale was alive, and apparently, he was friends with her.

“No, I don’t think so,” Noah repeated. “Yeah, see you soon. Drive safe.”

Noah hung up the phone and handed it to Stiles before pointing a finger at him. “She’ll be here in five. I’d suggest going and getting dressed.”

Stiles rubbed a hand over his face, feeling blind-sided. “Yeah, uh…yeah.”

Noah shook his head, ruffling Stiles’s hair before clapping him on the shoulder and walking past. “I’m headed to work, don’t drive. Drink some water, and I’d suggest showering at some point.”

“Yeah,” Stiles said, smiling at his Dad and spreading his arms wide. “Am I not the epitome of sunshine and roses right now?”

“Sure, after a dog’s shit in the garden bed,” Noah replied without hesitation, grabbing his keys. “Love you, kid.”

“Love you too,” Stiles replied automatically, watching as his Dad left through the front door. The door slamming made him slump as he rubbed both hands through his hair. “Okay, what the fuck did I do?”

Stiles looked around the kitchen, trying to spot something that would tell him anything. But it looked the same as it always had been when his Dad had been alive. Clean, but with the sort of clutter that spoke to people living in it. The coffee cup was in the sink, but a pan was drying on the counter. Pots lined the windowsills, shoots of herbs springing up in the warm sun.

Stiles looked down at his phone, clicking the screen to see the date. June 16th, 2014, it was the same date when he had performed the ritual, making him a little over 21. A buzzing brought his attention back to his phone, and he saw a text message from Cora, the name having a series of emojis next to it, but the only one he cared about was the little wolf in front of her name.

He tried to open his phone and enter his password, but it didn’t work.

“Fuck,” he muttered, massaging his forehead with his fingers. He took a deep breath. “Alright, Stiles, what do we have. Time travel, check. Brand new world, check. New phone password, check. Completely fucked, double-check.”

He dropped his hand and looked around the room, knowing Cora was on her way, so they could take Scott to work for some reason since his asthma was acting up.

“Right, change of clothing,” he said, heading back up the stairs. He started moving faster, realizing his room might hold some sort of key. He burst in, half expecting to see the answer in ten-foot-tall letters with an arrow pointing at what he wanted to know.

Nothing awaited him except for a bed, a few bookcases, a poster of a band he had never heard of, and a half-unpacked suitcase sitting next to a pile of boxes. Stiles looked around the room, walking over to the bookcases, hoping he could find something, but all he saw were random books, some which he knew and some he didn’t. The second bookcase held a staggering number of books on ghost towns and the Appalachian mountains.

“Weird,” Stiles said, running a finger over one of the books. It had been read so many times he couldn’t make out the title. He remembered the ghost town he and the rest of the pack had gone to, the woman crying and yelling and the bodies hanging in the well. Still fresh despite the desiccation of everyone else in the town.

He went to grab it, but a car honked outside as his phone buzzed. He walked over to the window and saw a lifted jeep. A second later, Cora stuck her head out and waved at him, and he could see the smile even from here. He waved back and turned, forgoing looking at the books in favor of dragging on clean clothing.

He figured a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt were a safe bet before stuffing his feet into the most well-worn pair of vans he found. He managed to find his wallet before he headed down, wishing he could stay longer, but he had no clue how he would explain everything to his Dad and the others.

He opened the door, watching as Cora sat on the window frame of her car. She was dressed in a black shirt with writing he couldn’t make out and looked at him over a pair of reflective aviators glasses. She grinned, looking so much like Derek that his heart reflexively hurt at the memory of finding Derek’s body years ago. “Get in, loser, we’re going shopping,” she yelled, drumming her hands on the top of the car.

“I’m not wearing pink,” Stiles replied automatically.

Cora rolled her eyes and pushed her glasses up. “Less talking, more moving, Stilinski. We gotta get Scott to work before Deaton kills him.”

“Okay, okay,” Stiles said, stumbling down the stairs and getting in the front seat. He stretched his legs out and did his best to look relaxed before looking at Cora.

She was watching him intently over her glasses.

“What?” he asked nervously.

“Don’t what me Stilinski, what’s wrong?” Cora asked, turning to look back at the road, put the car into drive, and tore off down the road fast enough that he expected the tires to squeal.

Stiles looked out the windows and sighed, shaking his head. “Bad dreams,” he said grabbing the oh shit bar as she quickly rounded a corner. He was surprised they didn’t end up on two wheels.

“Wanna elaborate there, or are you auditioning for the role of Greek oracle?” she asked, pulling to a stop outside of Scott’s house and honking.

“I’m at least a virgin sacrifice,” Stiles muttered, unsure how to explain.

“You’d need to be a virgin for that to work.”

“I’m a born-again virgin.”

Cora scoffed and hit her horn again, this time longer. Stiles turned his head and watched as Scott stumbled out of the house. His hair was cut short, but there was a lightness around his eyes Stiles hadn’t seen in a long time. Not since Allison had died.

Scott looked up and grinned, waving with a childlike excitement that made Stiles relax. Things couldn’t be that bad if Scott were still smiling.

“Heya, dudes!” Scott said, throwing himself into the back seat with a wheeze.

“Dude,” Stiles said, turning in his head and staring at Scott, surprised at the noise.

Scott waved him off and fumbled for the inhaler, expertly taking a long puff and holding his breath as he relaxed. Cora started the car and drove off at a more sedate pace but still faster than Stiles was comfortable with.

“Don’t think because Scott is here means you’re getting out of the conversation, Stilinski,” Cora said, stopping at a red light and looking at him. “What gives.”

“Woah, dude, what’s wrong?” Scott said, leaning forward between the seats.

Cora pushed his head back and scowled. “Squishy humans need seatbelts.”

“This squishy human might take the bite soon,” Scott shot back, but Stiles heard the click over the roaring sound in his ears. Bite, human. Scott knew about the wolves.

“Yeah? Mom said it was okay?” Cora asked, hitting the gas as soon as the light turned green.

“She did,” Scott replied. “But dude, I still don’t know if I wanna. I mean, I know it’s safe and all, but it’s not perfect, and I don’t wanna risk bite rejection.”

Stiles turned in his seat slightly, wanting to know more. “You think you’re gonna reject?”

Scott shrugged. “No, but I don’t wanna leave my Mom, you know? I’m all she has.”

“Pack would take care of her,” Cora said softly.

“I know, I know, and it’d help with the asthma,” Scott said, rubbing at his chest before he clapped Stiles on the shoulder. “Not that bro time doesn’t also help heal it, dude, but sometimes I like the idea of a better solution than a hug.”

Stiles managed a smile and spread his arms slightly. “Bro time is always open.”

Scott pressed a hand against his heart. “Aww, bro, love you too,” he said, making a kissy face at Stiles before leaning forward and poking Cora in the arm. “Besides, I’ve got till I turn 21 to decide.”

“Which is a few months away,” Cora replied, slapping at his hand even as she took another corner. “And you should make a choice before applying to vet schools.”

“Nah, I’m taking a year anyway, saving some money,” Scott explained.

“Which just means you need to decide sooner rather than later, right Stiles?” Cora asked, pulling to a stop sign and turning to stare at Stiles.

Stiles jerked, looking between the two of them, and nodded. “Yeah, uh, yeah,” he said, rubbing a hand over his face. “Do or do not, Scotty, there is no try.”

Scott wrinkled his nose. “I still can’t believe you made me watch those.”

“I still can’t believe you don’t like them,” Stiles replied, but it was half-hearted as he tried to parse all the information.

“Seriously, what gives?” Cora asked gently. It freaked him out.

“Yeah, dude, you’re quiet, it’s weird, and I know it’s not a hangover because you drank like one drink and then kept making moon eyes over your phone,” Scott said, leaning forward and looking at Stiles.

“Bad dreams,” Stiles explained. “You ever dream and wake up and feel like the dream is the real one, and this is the fake life?”

Scott and Cora glanced at each other before a horn honked, and Cora took off, flipping off whoever was behind him.

“Did your drink get spiked?” Scott asked, peering closer at Stiles.

Stiles shook his head. “No, just fucked up nightmares, nothing more.”

“At least you didn’t wake up an Alpha like Derek,” Cora muttered, pulling into the parking lot for Deaton’s office.

“Maybe that’s a sign I shouldn’t get bitten. He’s not around to stop the bite rejection like he did for Paige,” Scott said, looking nervous as he gathered his things, frantically searching for his inhaler for a second before he found it with a sigh of relief.

“You won’t reject the bite,” Stiles said on autopilot, stuck on the information about Derek.

“You an oracle now?” Scott asked, rolling his eyes. “I know you miss Derek, but he’s got a pack. Apparently, he’s even got an emissary now.”

“If he’d ever actually tell us the person’s name,” Cora muttered. “Or, you know, come home for once.”

Stiles kept quiet, not sure what was happening here. Derek was alive, an Alpha, but he wasn’t in Beacon Hills.

“You know he can’t come unless Talia invites him,” Scott said softly, reaching over and squeezing Cora’s shoulder before kissing her cheek. “And she won’t. She’s still weird about Kate Argent.”

“He killed her years ago. I don’t know what the issue is,” Cora muttered. “She was gonna burn the house down, and he stopped it.”

“I think she feels guilty,” Scott said, leaning over and, to Stiles’s surprise, kissed his cheek as well. “Now, thank you for the ride, and go get Stiles coffee, he’s a zombie, and you don’t have enough brains for him to eat.”

Cora’s arm shot out, trying to smack Scott, who laughed and tumbled back, managing to get himself out of the car without injury. He threw a jaunty salute before he raced into the clinic.

“You think he’s right?” Cora asked softly, slouching and dropping her head back. “She feels guilty?”

“I think an Alpha wants to protect her pack,” Stiles said, beginning to wonder if this world was different or if this was his Derek.

“And Derek protected us instead of Mom,” Cora said with a sigh, shaking her head. “He saved us and those twins he saved from that fucked up pack. And who knows what Ennis would’ve done in the future if Derek hadn’t killed him. I don’t get why Mom is still so weird about it.”

The more Cora talked, the more certain Stiles was that Derek had come back with him, somehow. He glanced to the side, seeing Cora was expecting an answer, and he shrugged a shoulder, taking a gamble. “If I know Hales, it’s that they are good about beating themselves up for things that weren’t their fault.”

Cora wrinkled her nose and started the car. “Ugh, for that horrible insight, you’re buying coffee.”

“Fine.”

Stiles smiled, looking out the window as she headed towards downtown. For a second, he thought he saw a flash of flame and a woman in the forest before the vision was gone, replaced by a gnarled tree swaying gently in the breeze. He turned his head, trying to catch another glimpse, but it was gone as Cora sped away.

---

Stiles stared at his phone, trying to figure out the password. It wasn’t any birthday he knew or the passwords he had used before. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. This couldn’t be an easy return trip. No, he had to be shoved into a body he didn’t know, in a world he didn’t know, with events that confused him.

“Can some Godlike creature who is enjoying my pain do me a favor and let me know what my password is?”

Stiles waited a moment and lifted his head, hoping for some sign but nothing. He dropped back onto his bed and tried to think about what his password might be. It was six numbers. It wasn’t like he was breaking into the Bank of Switzerland.

His Dad was alive, and Scott was alive. Cora was alive, and apparently, so was the rest of her family. Part of Stiles felt like he had woken up in a Stepford Wives version of his life. The neighbors had even waved at him, and he knew he remembered Mrs. Watershone hating him for most of his life, ever since he had skateboarded right into her prize orchids.

And most shocking of all, Derek fucking Hale was an Alpha and didn’t live here. And the Argent’s had been taken care of. And so had Ethan and Aiden, and the more Stiles thought about it, the more he figured this Derek might know what was happening. He might remember, and know why Stiles and Cora were good friends.

Stiles sat up suddenly, remembering what his Dad had done that morning. He grabbed his phone, fiddling with it until the same automated voice appeared. He lifted the phone to his mouth.

“Call Derek Hale,” he said carefully. A second later, the phone rang, and he slumped in relief. “Oh, thank god.”

The phone stopped ringing. “Hey Stiles, what’s up?”

Stiles paused at the cheery voice and listened to the laughter in the background. Derek sounded happy, nothing like the sullen man Stiles had once known.

“Stiles?” Derek asked again, sounding worried. “Something wrong, kid?””

Stiles frowned. “I’m not a kid.”

Derek chuckled. “Always gonna be a kid to me, kid. Now, what’s up? I’m surprised you’re alive after your plans to try all the shots last night.””

Stiles opened his mouth and closed it again, unsure of how to ask Derek if he had also traveled back in time without sounding insane. It was insane, and the more he heard the sounds in the background, the more he was sure this wasn’t his Derek. There was no way his Derek would be this happy so soon after landing, especially if he were an Alpha.

“Stiles?””

The worry was back. Stiles heard a door close, muffling the laughter. “Wanna talk to me, kid? Cora said you were a little out of sorts. Nightmares or something?””

“Nothing,” he said, sure this Derek wasn’t the one. Derek wasn’t that astute. “Nothing at all, sourwolf.”

There was a long pause before Derek inhaled sharply. “What did you call me?” he demanded, voice low.

Stiles sat up straighter. “Sourwolf,” he repeated, keeping his voice calm.

“Why did you call me that?” Derek asked, his voice deeper. Even over the phone, Stiles could feel the power, and he shivered. Derek hadn’t been able to do that before.

“Because…I uh…well, you see…it goes like this,” Stiles started, trying to think of an excuse. “I wanted to?” he finished lamely.

Derek inhaled again. “Stiles?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” Stiles said, trying not to chuckle nervously.

Derek was silent for a long time; long enough Stiles pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it before he put it back in time to hear Derek inhaling again.

“Dude, what’s with the dramatic breathing?” Stiles asked before he could stop himself. “You sound like Darth Vader.”

“Don’t call me dude.”

“Then don’t give me a reason to dude you,” Stiles said, hoping Derek would forget about his slip up if he kept talking.

“When did we meet?” Derek asked suddenly.

“Woods,” Stiles replied, hoping it wouldn’t be suspicious if he were vague enough, but his mouth always got him in trouble, and this time was no different. “You told me I was trespassing.”

Derek snorted. “Right, stupid question,” Derek muttered. “Look, why were you in the woods?’

Stiles was beginning to think this Derek was his Derek, but it didn’t make sense. Derek might be an Alpha, but he wasn’t the same. Stiles knew they could go in circles for hours and the last thing Stiles wanted to do was let someone overhear him.

“With Scott,” Stiles replied, going for broke. “Looking for a body I heard about on the radio.”

There was a long pause. “Stiles, What the fuck…how?”

Stiles tensed up, looking around the room that looked normal, aside from an all-abiding love of the Appalachian mountains. “I don’t know! Well, I sort of know, but I didn’t think it would work, you know? And only I was supposed to come back. How are you here? Why are you not freaking out? Because I’m sure once the shock has worn off, I’m going to start freaking out. Because the fucking ritual worked, and everyone’s alive. You’re alive, holy shit.”

Stiles collapsed against the bed, heavy with the knowledge of what had happened.

“Stiles,” Derek said calmly. “I came back…I was pulled back a long time ago.”

“How long?” Stiles asked, latching onto something aside from his own worries.

“Day Paige died, or was supposed to die,” Derek said.

There was the sound of footsteps, and another voice asked something over the phone. “No, go on without me. It’s…its Stiles.”

“Hey, kid!” A cheery voice Stiles didn’t know yelled into the phone.

“Uh…hey,” he replied, wondering why the hell everyone was calling him a kid.

“I won’t be down for dinner. Let Nat know?” Derek said.

“Boyfriend?” Stiles asked, to be a dick.

“Ex,” Derek replied easily. “Roommate now.”

Stiles didn’t know what to make of that information. “Oh.”

“I don’t know what to ask.”

“Really? That makes one of us. What do you mean the day she was supposed to die? What happened? What happened to the Argents? Why am I friends with Cora? Why isn’t Scott a werewolf? Where are you?”

Derek chuckled. “That’s it?”

“Don’t test me, Vader, or I will ask more,” Stiles snapped back, standing up and beginning to pace. “Start from the top, chop chop, let’s go.”

“I would if you gave me a second to speak,” Derek replied dryly.

“Stop sighing and start speaking.”

Derek inhaled deeply and blew out his breath, and Stiles knew he had done it to be a dick. It made him smile, even as he kept pacing.

“Kate Argent shot me,” Derek started.

“I know, we found the body, she was sloppy, and we got her arrested for it,” Stiles said softly, not wanting to think about finding Derek. “She had always been sloppy, but this meant we got her fingerprints, and man, did she have a series of unsolved murders behind her. She got put away for life. You should’ve seen the look on her face.”

Stiles grinned for a second before the sobering reality of what had happened hit him, and he stopped pacing and sighed, looking down at the floor. The silence stretched before Derek cleared his throat.

“I appreciate knowing that,” Derek said carefully. “But this story will take forever if you keep interrupting me.”

“Uh, right, continue.”

“She shot me, and I woke up as an Alpha in my bedroom, in my house at sixteen. My Mom thought I was someone else, and she…well, she attacked me. When everything calmed down, I realized it was the day Paige got bitten, and I raced to the school. I was too late to stop her from being bit, but I killed Ennis.”

“Seriously?” Stiles blurted out.

“Yeah, he was expecting a beta, I was an Alpha, and I knew how to fight better,” Derek explained before he cleared his throat. “I managed to save Paige.”

“She didn’t die from bite rejection?” Stiles asked softly.

“She almost did,” Derek replied. “I pulled her pain out and kept pulling until she survived.”

“The black vein thing?” Stiles asked.

“Yeah, the black vein thing. Paige survived, but I was an Alpha, and my Mom didn’t know how to deal with it. But we were getting along okay, and then Kate Argent kidnapped me, and I killed her. My Mom couldn’t handle it, and so when I graduated high school, I left to go find my own pack, and I did.”

Derek stopped.

Stiles pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s it?” he demanded. “Because a whole lot is missing from that story.”

Derek snorted. “There is, but that’s the summary.”

“It’s a shit summary!” Stiles snapped, beginning to pace. “All it does is leave me with a thousand more questions. Like how did you save Paige? Where are you now? Why do you keep calling me kid? Why am I friends with Cora!”

Derek sighed, making Stiles twitch. “I don’t know how she survived. My emissary and I have ideas, but nothing concrete, and there’s no way to find out what happened.”

“That is singularly unhelpful, thank you so much.”

“I don’t know what you want from me? I can’t give you that answer,” Derek replied gently.

Stiles had been expecting Derek to snap at him, but he sounded patient in a way Stiles had never heard before. “Woah, calm down there, pod person.”

“Pod person?”

“Yeah, all calm and shit. Where’s the threats? The violence?”

“Stiles, it’s been eight years since I came back in time. I’ve had some time to deal,” Derek said.

“Well, it’s weird,” Stiles snapped. “I don’t like it.”

“Want me to threaten to break your arm?”

Stiles paused. “How weird is it if I say yes.”

“Very, kid.”

Stiles grimaced. “What’s with the kid? Seriously?”

“Sorry, habit,” Derek said. There was a muffled thump. Stiles assumed Derek had sat down. “I call you kid because it helped me separate you from this Stiles.”

Stiles grimaced. “So, you’ve been here for eight years, had therapy, and what else? Why aren’t you in Beacon Hills? I sort of got the gist of it from Cora and Scott talking, but I always thought your family was close.”

Derek sighed. “We are…we were. The problem is I came back as a guy in his mid-twenties, put into the body of a sixteen-year-old, and I had a lot of trauma. So, they hadn’t changed from my last memories of them, but I was a lot different. I didn’t fit, not the way I wanted to.”

Stiles nodded, ignoring the sigh this time. “Yeah, so, Kate Argent? What about the rest of them?”

“She…she tried to seduce me again, but I knew what was happening this time, and so she resorted to kidnapping me. Tortured me to get the information…I didn’t give her anything, and I almost didn’t survive, but my family got there in time. I uh…I killed her when I was free, snapped her neck, and dropped her body in an alley in Beacon City, all human-like. Nothing werewolf about it,” Derek explained. “I’ve been keeping an ear out for Gerard or Chris, but nothing. There’s not a peep out of any of them, and it makes me nervous. Last I heard, Allison was hunting with her parents, but it was by the book. ”

“You think they’re going to get revenge?” Stiles asked.

“I think it would be stupid to assume they’d let it go, or that they think a human killed her,” Derek explained. “If I knew where they were, it’d be better, but I don’t, and so that’s the problem.”

Stiles thought back to the burned-out husk of a town they had found and sighed. “I’ll help look,” he said softly. “The reason…one of the reasons I came back was because the world was dying. Gerard was destroying nematons one by one, and he didn’t give a fuck what happened. Scott’s werewolf powers started dying, and Lydia was always screaming. We had a kitsune, Kira, join us, and she couldn’t access her powers half the time, and Jordan got burned whenever he tried to switch to his hellhound form. Nothing was working. So, we need to find him and keep an eye out for him.”

Derek sighed.

“Jesus Christ, dude, get an inhaler,” Stiles muttered before Derek could speak.

“I can’t believe I almost missed you sometimes,” Derek muttered.

Stiles could almost picture Derek rubbing a hand over his face, and he wondered what the other man looked like. He knew it was stupid. Derek was going to look the same. But he wondered if he was still the muscled bound jock-esque in brooding leather and emo black he had been the last time Stiles had seen him.

“You missed me?” Stiles asked, his mind latching onto that statement.

“Sometimes,” Derek admitted. “Usually when I needed research done.”

Stiles grinned. “I knew you liked me.”

Derek hummed but didn’t comment. Stiles sat up and looked around the room. “How did Scott find out? I’m assuming my Dad found out as well. How did I find out?”

“Noah found out when I killed Ennis, the Sherriff back then brought him. You found out because you and Cora are good friends, and Scott found out because you’re incapable of not telling him everything, and Mom knew that, so she told you both, and Melissa,” Derek explained. “Isaac and Boyd know, but they’re on some backpacking trip across Canada right now. It’s their three-year anniversary.”

“I don’t know who to root for, Isaac or Boyd,” Stiles said, trying to wrap his mind around that relationship. “Erica?”

Derek was silent long enough that Stiles let his eyes fall shut. “How?” he asked softly.

“Seizure during a school assembly, she fell, hit her head, and died,” Derek said somberly. “I…I’d decided to leave the three of them alone because I didn’t want them hurt again. But it didn’t help her. She spent a lot of time with Isaac and Boyd or ate with them at least, and you befriended them after she died.”

Stiles pressed a hand against his face and sighed. “Shit.”

“Did I infect you with my sighs?” Derek asked after a moment.

“Fuck you, that was a perfectly acceptable time to sigh,” Stiles said without heat. “Where are you, anyway?”

“Lost Cove, in the Appalachian moun—”

“I’ve been there,” Stiles interrupted, looking around the room and spotting the book with the creased cover. He was across the room quickly, pulling the book and looking at the cover. Ghost Towns in the Appalachian Mountains.

“What?”

“Scott, the Pack, and me. We knew magic was dying, but rumors said that the town still had magic, so we went to see it. It was a ghost town,” Stiles said softly. “Bodies everywhere.”

Derek was silent for a long time. Stiles looked at the book in his hands and flipped open the front page, staring with wide eyes at the hollowed-out book with the small vials of wolfsbane and mountain ash.

“It won’t happen this time,” Derek said. “We’ve…we saw that future. My emissary and I, they helped me see it, so I knew what I had left behind. We saw you, Julia…she was the one who was screaming at you.”

Stiles closed his eyes at the memory of the crazed girl. “Okay, putting aside how you made that happen because that’s a lot of mojo, but apparently, you’re the king of mojo. Question, does this Stiles use his spark?”

“No,” Derek’s said instantly. “He never learned how.”

“You sure?” Stiles asked. “Because I’m looking at a book with wolfsbane and mountain ash.”

Derek was silent for a long moment. “Of course, he would try,” he muttered. “Wonder if he actually did something.”

Stiles didn’t comment on that, knowing whatever the other Stiles had done was a moot point because he had hijacked his body. “Well, if he’s doing it in secret, then that’ll help with me being able to do a whole fuck ton of shit.”

“A fuck ton of shit?” Derek asked.

“I was the Emissary for the last Alpha in North America who still had red eyes,” Stiles said. “I had to learn quickly; otherwise, we all would’ve died.”

“One alpha?”

“Uh-huh,” Stiles said. “And a whole lot of dead packs because they went feral. It kept the hunter movement going once it became public knowledge, and by the time people realized what the hunters had done, it was too late.”

“Shit.”

Stiles shut the book and put it back where it had been, knowing why the cover had been bent so much. “So, rest of the pack. Jackson?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Not a clue,” Derek replied. “I don’t think you and he ever got along, especially when it became known he knew about Isaac’s abuse.”

“Well, no love lost there,” Stiles said. “And my personal Goddess, Lydia?”

“Don’t know, this Stiles never talked about her,” Derek replied. “Maybe once or twice in passing, but not that much.”

“So, I’m guessing she’s not my personal Goddess here?” Stiles asked, looking around the room.

“Not that I know of,” Derek said.

“Who is? I mean, there had to be someone, I know myself, and I get obsessi…” Stiles trailed off as he looked around the room again, taking in the bookshelves filled with books about Appalachia, the comment Scott made about missing Derek. “No,” he breathed out, his eyes wide. “Oh no, no…no no, no.”

Derek coughed into the phone, and Stiles closed his eyes, dropping his hand to rest his fist against his forehead as he took a deep breath. “Do not tell me this Stiles was obsessed with you,” Stiles said, knowing he was begging, but he didn’t care.

“I uh…” Derek stammered.

“No no no no,” Stiles said, shaking his head. “Nope, not happening. This is not happening. Oh my god, it makes sense, the books, the fucking magic. You have an emissary, and he wanted to be it, which is why he was trying. Oh my god, please don’t tell me this body is a virgin.”

Derek chuckled. “From my understanding, you had a lot of fun in college.”

“Small mercies,” Stiles said, wondering when he’d wake up from this nightmare. “Oh my god, that’s why you keep calling him kid.”

“It was weird!” Derek burst out. “I remember you as you, but then there’s this little pre-teen following me around all the time, and all I could think about was how you were and how different the two of you were. It was a word.”

“So, you called him kid to remind him that you were a lot older than us and to remind you that he wasn’t me?” Stiles summarized.”

“Yes,” Derek said after a moment. “If you said what I think you said.”

Stiles pressed a hand over his face and breathed out slowly. “This is a lot to take in,” he said, dropping his hand and staring t the room again, trying to understand the differences. “What did I graduate in?” Stiles asked. “Since I never actually went to college, I figure I should know what to do.”

“You did a dual degree in biology with a focus on botany and folklore and did your senior thesis on the intersection of folklore and herbal remedies,” Derek explained.

Stiles snorted. “Well, that’s easy enough to fake. Where did I go to college?”

“University of Southern California.”

“Oh, cool. My parents met there,” Stiles said, chewing on his bottom lip. “My mom…did she? Is she?”

Derek was silent long enough that Stiles knew the answer. He closed his eyes and tipped his head forward, rubbing them to try and ward off the tears. “Right,” he said. “Stupid. I know it was stupid, but I was still hopeful, you know?”

“Sorry, I met her a few times. She was always nice to me,” Derek said softly.

Stiles looked towards his door at the sound of footsteps outside his door. “I think my Dad’s home,” he said, checking his watch and wondering how it had gotten to be so late.

“Stiles? Who are you talking to?” his Dad asked as he pushed open the door, untucking his work shirt from his pants.

“Derek,” Stiles replied, watching his Dad carefully.

He saw his Dad try to hide the eye roll. “Don’t bug him. I’m sure he’s got things to do.”

Derek snorted into Stiles’s ear.

“Porky Pig on the phone says he loves it when I bug him, so I’m gonna do it so much more now,” Stiles said, infecting his voice with as much cheer as he could.

Noah stared at Stiles. “If he kills you, you have life insurance, right?”

Stiles pressed a hand over his heart. “It all goes to open heart surgeons because mine just got wounded, and no one should feel this way. Think of the Valentine’s babies, Dad.”

Noah shook his head. “Whatever, kid. Come on, it’s your turn to cook tonight, and I don’t feel like chicken again. So, I’m going to cook, and you’re going to prep.”

“Be there soon,” Stiles said, feeling warm at the thought of cooking with his Dad.

Noah waved a hand as he left. “Tell Derek I said hi.”

Stiles waited until he heard his Dad’s door close behind him before turning to face the bookcase. “My Dad cooks?”

“Uh-huh,” Derek said. “Because you suck at it.”

“No, I do not!”

“Well, maybe you don’t. But this Stiles could burn cereal if he wanted to. He made a mean chicken casserole, though. But that’s about it.”

Stiles sighed. “Well, this is gonna be fun. I wasn’t joking about constantly bugging you. I have so many questions, and you’re going to get all of them.”

“Fair, I’ll do my best to answer them. But I know Stiles, this Stiles, kept a lot of notes on his phone under a password,” Derek said.

“Username and password, Derek?” Stiles asked dryly.

“What?”

“Nothing, speaking of though. What is my phone password?” Stiles asked, wishing he could get into it.

“0108.”

“That’s not your birthday,” Stiles said after a moment.

“No shit, considering I’m not ten,” Derek muttered. “It’s the day we met. January 8th, 2004.”

“I want to preemptively throw myself off a cliff. Maybe I’ll go the Romeo and Juliet way and drink a vial of poison,” Stiles said without heat before realizing how that sounded. “Not because you’re not a catch, you’re an Alpha doing alpha-y things, and that’s great, but I’m just getting secondhand embarrassment, and I know the teasing is going to be epic.”

Derek laughed. “Wait till you meet Jenna and Lou. They’ll rag you a lot for it.”

“Who’s Jenna?”

“My sister.”

“I thought her name was Laura?”

“Laura, Jenna, me, Cora, and then Grace,” Derek explained.

“The fact that you’re the middle of five girls explains so much, dude,” Stiles said.

Derek laughed. It was a sound Stiles found he liked, but Derek had been doom and gloom for so long that the sound of him laughing was just another check to remind Stiles that he was in the Twilight Zone.

“I’m the only male child in my generation,” Derek explained. “And I need to go. I’ve got Alpha-y stuff to take care of.”

“Have fun howling at the moon and eating baby rabbits,” Stiles said, waving his hand as if Derek could see him.

“I’ll name one of them after you,” Derek said a second before the call disconnected, leaving Stiles sputtering.

He pulled the phone away from his ear and glared at it. “Asshole,” he muttered before slowly typing in the passcode, a little afraid of what he would find.

His phone opened, showing a background photo of him, his Dad, and his Mom from when he was younger, from before she got sick. The three of them at a country fair and all with powdered sugar on their faces. He smiled, staring at the picture for a moment before dropping onto the bed to dive into the secrets his phone had.

“Stiles! Come on, I need my sous chef.”

Stiles looked up from the notes app he was about to open towards the door. He could see his Dad standing at the top of the stairs, waving a hand at him to hurry up before making his way down the stairs. Stiles looked back at his phone before closing it and standing up. It could wait until after dinner.

Part 2

June 15th, 2014

Stiles leaned back in the chair and glanced around the table, taking in familiar and unfamiliar faces.

He had been back for a week and had spent most of that time figuring everything out and hanging out with Scott and Cora, which was apparently a lot, according to Derek, who had responded to every single one of the text messages Stiles had sent. Which had helped get his bearings, as well as the hundreds of notes on his phone that Stiles was trying to parse out. Some were easier than others, and part of him wanted to delete the old to-do lists, but he was nervous they’d hold some clue to something.

It was pack dinner night, and it seemed like everyone was there. Derek’s family, Scott, Melissa, his Dad, Deaton, and many people he didn’t know, a few that looked like they could be relatives. Even Creepy Uncle Peter, who wasn’t so creepy and had his arm around a gorgeous brunette who looked so pregnant, Stiles was half worried she was already giving birth. Stiles watched as Peter’s head dropped back as he laughed at something the woman said.

He turned at the sound of more laughing and stared at Derek’s sisters, their heads bent together as they giggled over something he couldn’t see. It was apparent they were sisters, and he could see the resemblance to Derek. They all had dark hair, bright eyes, and eyebrows that seemed inherited from both sides of the family.

Stiles pulled his phone out, glancing down as he quickly pulled up Derek’s number and set off a quick text, glancing over to Richard before pressing send.

‘Dude, u didn’t tell me ur dad was a DILF.’

‘Also, what’s Peter’s bbmama called?’

He closed the phone before Scott or his Dad could see it, shoved it back in his pocket, and looked up as Talia cleared her throat. It only took her once, the whole room falling quiet almost immediately.

“I have good news,” Talia said with a smile, glancing down the table, taking her time to meet each of their eyes. “Both Isaac and Boyd returned early, and they’ve taken the bite.”

Cheers broke out, and a few people thumped the table. Stiles clapped as well. He knew Boyd had been a good beta in his original timeline, and Isaac had been there for a lot of the hard stuff. They would both fit in well. He ignored the pang of sadness at the thought of Erica.

An elbow to his side had him looking up to see Talia staring expectantly at him, and he was aware of everyone staring at him. He swallowed and ignored the buzz of his phone.

“Uh…what?” he asked, biting back the instinctive urge to say yes.

“What were you thinking about this time,” Cora asked before Talia could speak, crossing her arms and grinning at him.

Stiles stared at her, still a little disturbed by how friendly she was. And how much of a sarcastic shit she could be. The Cora he had known had been sarcastic, but there had always been a biting undertone that made it hard to know if she was joking or not. There was none of that with this Cora, she was sarcastic, but it held a fond undertone.

“History of male circumcision,” he said, meeting her gaze head-on. It was a subject he knew well.

“I’m nervous to ask why,” Talia said, getting Stiles’s attention, a smile on her face that reminded Stiles of creepy old ladies in horror movies.

“Well, Boyd and Isaac were in Canada, and it got me thinking about Canada, and then I remembered the border and how the foreskin can help protect, and then Canada has…” he trailed off when Talia raised her hand.

“I think we’re all good,” she said, the same smile on her face.

Stiles smiled back. “Right, uh, what was the question again?” he said, reminding himself this was not the place to zone out.

“Will you be taking the bite? You’re twenty-one. You need to decide,” Talia said, an odd intensity to her words that suddenly had Stiles’s hackles up higher.

“I uh…” he said, glancing around nervously. Cora looked excited, Peter looked bored, and a dour-looking woman was frowning deeply at the other end of the table. He turned and looked at his Dad.

Most people would assume Noah was calm, waiting for his son’s answer, but Stiles had seen his Dad in varying levels of stress over the years, and he knew what his Dad looked like when he was trying to hide how worried he was. Noah had that look now.

“No,” he said, looking back at Talia and forcing himself to smile. “I uh…appreciate the offer, but I’m going to say no.”

The whole room stilled, and Talia leaned forward, her blue eyes intent. “Are you sure? I was under the impression that you had been interested in this since you found out.”

There was a bite to her words that Stiles couldn’t place, but he shook his head. “I know,” he said, trying to look sheepish as he rubbed the back of his neck. “But I uh…seeing you all over the years and after being away and coming back, I uh…don’t think I’d make a good werewolf.”

“Nonsense, you’d make a good one,” Peter said, smiling at him. “As long as you don’t have to run.”

The joke seemed to break some of the tension, except Stiles could feel a tightness in his back as he flashed back to the last time Peter had told him he’d make a good wolf. He forced himself to look away from Peter, who had frowned slightly, and towards Talia, who had the same mannequin fake smile on her face.

“As I said, I appreciate it, but it’s a solid no from me,” Stiles said. He didn’t know what this world’s Stiles had wanted to do, but he couldn’t dwell on it. Stiles knew it wasn’t right for him. He had never wanted to be a wolf.

“Shame,” Talia said, her smile fading slightly. “But I completely understand. This gift is not for everyone.”

“No, it’s not,” he said, thinking back to all the werewolves he had seen over the years and how few had managed to make it work. Maybe it was different in this world, but Stiles had always preferred his magic to the promise of extra strength. “But thank you—a lot. For thinking of me…for the bite,” he finished lamely before closing his mouth and biting the inside of his cheek to shut himself up.

Talia smiled and inclined her head. “Of course,” she said, turning her head slightly to look at Scott. “And yourself, Scott?”

Stiles turned his head, wishing he had talked to Scott about this more. Except he didn’t know what to say. This Scott was so much happier than the one he left behind. This Scott was free of the burden of being the last Alpha; he had never had to watch the world burn, and he had never had to make the decisions he had made. Stiles never wanted to blame the bite for how much he had hated the Scott in his timeline, but seeing this Scott, the one that reminded him of the reason they had been best friends, made him want to make sure Scott never became a werewolf.

“I have a little more time, right?” Scott asked softly, glancing at Stiles, looking nervous. “It’s just, I want to go to vet school, and the schools far away, and I don’t know if I’m going to be able to commute back because even if I get the scholarship and I think I might…”

“…if you were pack, we could help you with that,” Talia interjected smoothly.

Stiles watched as Scott’s face went hard, and he sat up straighter. “I don’t need help, thank you,” he said, his voice a little colder than it had been. “I can earn it myself.”

Stiles glanced at Talia and saw a flash of anger in her eyes for a second before it was gone, and she inclined her head. “By the summer solstice then,” Talia said. “I cannot keep waiting for you to make a decision.”

“By then,” Scott said, inclining his head, still more formal than he had been. Stiles could see a flash of the Scott he had known, the stubborn asshole who sunk his teeth into an idea and never let it go no matter how stupid it was. Right now, he was thankful for that same stubbornness than used to make him curse up a storm.

“What’s at the solstice?” Peter drawled, drawing attention from Scott and Stiles.

Stiles glanced at Cora, who mouthed ‘later’ at him. It felt like a threat, but he nodded, watching as she turned and looked back at Talia.

“That is the other reason for this meeting,” Talia said, smiling around the table, showing her teeth and sending a chill down Stiles’s spine. Something was up, and he didn’t know if it was because he was sitting at a table filled with ghosts or a lingering unease with the whole situation.

Talia stood, bracing her hands on the table. “It has come to my attention that we have not strengthened our pack ties lately, and we should. The last time we had a meeting of the packs, it ended badly, but the hunters are quiet now, and we are stronger and more entrenched in the communities than we have been. We should not hide in the shadows; we should celebrate our alliances.”

This was met with hands slamming on the table and, in the case of two younger boys, throwing their heads back and howling softly.

Talia held up her hand for silence and smiled. “I know. I felt the same way. And after discussing it with Alan, Laura and Richard, we decided to invite our allies to a full moon ceremony at the summer solstice so we can renew our alliances and forge bonds that will last to future generations. Alphas Satomi, Chavez, and Calhoun from the California packs will be joining us and Alpha Black from Nevada and, of course, Alpha La Montagne.”

The last name caused all the Hales to cheer, and Stiles mentally added more names to look into. He wanted to know about these packs. He only knew Satomi. He mentally prepared himself for a couple of long nights as he researched the hell out of everything. He looked up as Talia cleared her throat again, looking around the table, and Stiles suddenly realized something.

“What about Derek?” he asked before she could speak. He felt his Dad’s elbow jerk into his side, but he ignored it.

He glanced around, seeing the awkward looks, before looking back at Talia in time to see a flash of something Stiles could only call triumphant.

“Stiles,” she started before she sighed, shaking her head. “It’s complicated.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes. He didn’t know what sort of person this Stiles had been, but he wasn’t about to let that comment go, especially since something didn’t feel right.

“Don’t know why. If this summit was to renew alliances and forge bonds that will last generations, what sort of message does it send if you don’t think your only son is worth that,” Stiles asked, meeting Talia’s gaze head-on and not backing down. He had seen things she couldn’t even fathom enough to have nightmares about. He wasn’t worried about one Alpha.

“He is on the other side of the country, and we’ve already invited everyone,” Talia said, but it sounded like she was reading from a script, but it was the opening Stiles needed.

“So? I was under the impression that family is family regardless of where they are. He is your only son, and you are his mother. I am sure if you asked, he would come regardless of how soon it is,” Stiles said, sure of himself—and hoping that she would because he needed Derek here now.

“That’s not…” Talia said, standing up straighter and crossing her arms over her chest. She took a deep breath and let it out. “Things with Derek are complicated.”

“You all know that. But all I know is Derek was an Alpha from a young age who not only survived but made a pack of his own and is doing well. He is kind, caring, and generous. Even to a snotty little kid with entirely too many questions and energy. So, it makes me wonder what sort of friendships you are looking to build if that is not the sort of Alpha you want to align with.”

Stiles paused and tilted his head to the side. “But then again, you did have an alliance with Alpha Ennis, and he liked biting random people, so maybe Derek isn’t the sort of Alpha you like. Since I’m sure he understands the meaning of consent.”

Stiles could have cut the tension in the room with a knife, and for the first time that night, he saw the perfect mask slip, and Talia’s eyes narrowed, her lip pulling up into a slight sneer. “What happened with Ennis and Paige was—”

“—Exactly what needed to happen,” Stiles interrupted, thinking back to what Derek had told him. “Or would you have preferred she died, and hunters came for your family?”

There was a sharp inhale from someone, but Stiles didn’t look away as Talia’s eyes bled red for a second. Stiles didn’t look away. Alpha red eyes had stopped being terrifying a long time ago. The red faded as Talia looked at him in confusion, and he smiled back at her, content to wait for the answer.

“I, for one, am glad he didn’t let me die.”

Stiles turned with everyone else, seeing that it had been the dour-looking woman who had spoken. She glanced at Stiles and inclined her head slightly, a slight smile crossing her face for a second, making her look pleasant before it was gone again.

“No, and we are all glad for that,” Talia said quickly. Talia let out a long sigh and rubbed her forehead. “There are many hurts there,” she said, smiling the same fake smile as before. “But I suppose it is time to mend those wounds. You are right. Doing our best to forge alliances wouldn’t work when we, when I, forget the most obvious. I’ll call him myself.”

Stiles flinched at a sudden squeal, and he turned, seeing the youngest Hale sister, Grace, clap a hand over her mouth. All of the sisters were grinning. Even Peter had a real smile on his face.

“Sorry, Mom! It’s just! I haven’t seen him in so long, and FaceTime isn’t the same, and I know he’ll say yes, and I’m so excited!” Grace said, grinning and speaking a mile a minute, wiggling in her seat.

Stiles grinned, unable to help himself in the wake of her obvious excitement. He glanced to the side, seeing Noah eyeing him, his mouth drawn down into a slight frown. Stiles raised his eyebrows at his Dad, who shook his head slightly and turned back as Talia cleared her throat, her cheeks a little red. She turned to look at Stiles, an intense look in her eyes.

“Well, I suppose we should thank Stiles for always being Derek’s most ardent…champion,” Talia said. “It’s not often when one gets such support for nothing in return, but I’m sure Derek is grateful for it.”

Stiles knew that was a dig at the crush, but he shrugged and leaned back into the chair. “You know how it is, see hot guy, lust over hot guy, realize hot guy is more than just a hot guy, become a friend,” he said, smiling at Talia. “I mean, you should know, considering I know exactly where Derek got all the super hot genes.”

Stiles flicked his fingers towards Richard Hale and then winked for good measure. “Always gotta stand up for your friends, right?”

Talia’s eyes were wide before she nodded. “…Right,” she said finally, tapping her fingers on the table. “I think it’s time to eat, yes?”

Cheers followed as people stood up and began to head into the kitchen, the sound of plates clinking and laughter soon following. Stiles stood up when his Dad did and turned, stopping at the sight of Talia standing right there, arms folded over her chest and her face the same fake smile as before.

Stiles stared at her for a moment before he shrugged. “Sorry for hitting on your husband, he’s not my type, but I can appreciate a DILF when I see one.”

“For fucks sake, Stiles,” his Dad muttered, pushing the side of his face. “If I could ground you, I would.”

Stiles grinned at his Dad, who rolled his eyes and walked away. He turned back to Talia. She was glaring at him, her blue eyes ringed with red. He watched as she visibly brought herself under control, and it was odd to see the same frustrated look he knew from Derek on her face.

“Stiles,” she began slowly, clearly choosing her words. “I know that you and Derek are…friends. But I cannot stress how much this might not work. It has been a long couple of years, and a lot has been said on both sides. I don’t want you to get your hopes up. I’m unsure if he will even take my call.”

Stiles knew that Derek, the one that had lost his entire family, would do anything to reconnect with his family. “Easy enough to find out,” he said with a smile, pulling his phone out of his pocket and opening it up.

“What are you doing?” Talia asked, suddenly sounding nervous.

Stiles hit Derek’s number, ignoring the puke face emoji’s that Derek had sent to him. It rang twice before Derek picked it up, and he was aware of the sudden silence around him.

“Stiles, what the fu—”

“—Heyyyy Derek, I’m with your Mom right now,” Stiles said, cutting over him before he said something incriminating. “She’s doing this super awesome Brady bunch thing with her allied packs at the summer solstice to strengthen ties and thinks it’d be awesome if you came, but she was nervous that you wouldn’t pick up, so being the amazing, phenomenal person I am, I took that burden.”

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone before Derek sighed. “You are a menace to society and every good person in it.”

“Aww boo, I love you too,” Stiles said, grinning even wider at the sour look on Talia’s face. “Might wanna go find that ex of yours and see if he can help take the—”

“Stiles!” Derek snapped. “Jesus Christ.”

“Don’t take the lord’s name in vain,” Stiles replied, rocking on his heels.

“For you, he’d make an exception.”

Stiles rolled his eyes at Talia. “Hurtful, anyway, here’s your Mom, have fun making up. I’ll see you soon,” he said, handing the phone over to a stunned Talia, who took it without thinking. “Don’t look at my photos. I had some great lighting and a full-length mirror.”

Talia stared at him. He nodded and stepped around her, aware of the silence in the room. Stiles looked around, seeing shocked looks on everyone’s faces, except for Derek’s sisters, who were trying their best to laugh silently, their hands pressed against their mouths. He beamed at them and walked to stand next to his Dad, who was shaking his head and looking done with Stiles.

“You are a menace to society,” Noah said, shoving at Stiles’s shoulder.

“Hey, Derek just told me the exact same thing. Guess you do try and date your Dad,” Stiles said, leaning against the wall next to his Dad, grinning at the disgusted look as he watched Talia slowly bring the phone to her ear and start talking softly. He wished he could make out what she was saying, but he resolved to get the information from Derek sooner rather than later.

---

“So, what was that about?” Noah asked as they pulled into the driveway of their house a few hours later. Dinner had gone well; Derek was due to come into Beacon Hills in less than a month, and Talia hadn’t killed Stiles.

“What was what?” he asked, heading into the house.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” Noah said. “You don’t ever talk back to Talia.”

“Is that a statement of fact, or are you telling me I don’t?” Stiles asked, following his Dad into the kitchen.

“Statement,” Noah said, grabbing two beer bottles and handing one to Stiles.

He took it slowly, realizing this was the first beer he would ever have with his Dad. His Dad had died before he had turned twenty-one, flayed open by a harpy after shoving Stiles out of the way. He looked down at the bottle and up at his Dad, who rolled his eyes.

“You’re twenty-one. It’s not weird,” Noah said, clinking the bottles together.

“First time in the house, though,” Stiles assumed.

“True,” Noah said before nodding to the chair after a moment. “So, spill.”

Stiles sat down, rolling the bottle between his hands. “I…uh.

Stiles paused, glancing around and wondering if it was paranoid to assume someone was spying on him. He felt a hand on his arm, and he turned to his Dad, who suddenly looked a lot more serious. Stiles remembered keeping his Dad in the dark and the resulting mistrust, and he knew he didn’t want to go down that road. He held up a finger, and Noah nodded, sitting back in his chair, looking content to wait Stiles out.

Stiles stood and grabbed one of the knives, cutting the tip of his finger and quickly drawing a rune on the table. Creating a silencing spell was easy for him, even without rowan to boost his power. He glanced up at his Dad, who was frowning, leaning forward. He closed his eyes and reached for the magic in him, feeling it spark a second before he felt the ward drop down around them.

“We can talk now,” Stiles explained. “No one will hear us for about an hour.”

Stiles looked up and saw Noah sitting still, his eyes wide as he looked between the runes and Stiles and back again, his mouth opening and closing a couple of times before letting out a confused noise.

Stiles winced. “Uh, surprise?”

Slowly, Noah raised a hand and pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is new,” he said after a few seconds.

Stiles pulled out the chair and sat down, picking up his beer bottle and looking at it before handing it to his Dad. “Yeah, I’ve been uh…practicing at school,” he said, not sure how to explain he had lived through the start of an apocalypse.

“Clearly,” Noah said, taking the bottle and sighing. He looked between Stiles and the rune on the table and back again, his eyebrows raising. “Kid, what’s happening?”

“Somethings not right with Talia,” he said softly, lifting his head and looking at Noah. “And I don’t know what it is, but I just know something isn’t right.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles said, tapping his fingers against his arm. “It’s just a feeling…more than anything else. A gut feeling that I can’t shake, but I don’t know her well enough to know for sure.” He paused and looked up at Noah. “She seemed mad I didn’t want to take the bite, same with Scott.”

“I’m not surprised she was mad. The fact that you said no was a surprise,” Noah said, rolling the bottle in his hands. “It’s all you’d been talking about for a long time.”

Stiles bit back a curse. He knew it had to do with the massive crush this Stiles had had on Derek. He shook his head. “I did until I found out I could do magic,” he explained. “I can’t do the magic if I’m a werewolf. They’re not compatible.”

Noah was silent for a long time, and Stiles was content to let him sit and think things through. He didn’t know how this world worked, he had only been there for a few days, and he had spent most of that trying to catch up.

“How long have you been working on the magic?” Noah asked, finally. “Because that seems a little bit more than basic.”

“Tried in high school,” Stiles admitted. It wasn’t even a lie. “And then I finally got a hold of a book that helped me, and it just grew from there.”

“I’m good with fire,” he admitted, looking down at his hands. “I’m not as good as some because if I’m not paying attention, it can burn me, and so can non-magical fires. But I uh…if I’m focusing, fire can’t hurt me. I can make fireballs sometimes.”

Stiles never knew if he was good with fire naturally or if the idea of being immune to fire in a world filled with hunters ready to burn everything had made him that way.

Noah stared at Stiles for a long time. “Yeah, I believe you.” He scrubbed a hand over the back of his head. “Right, so. I’m glad you couldn’t do that in high school. Otherwise, I think you’d have burnt the house down.”

Stiles grinned, trying to ignore the pang of sorrow at how easily his Dad was accepting this and wondering if his own Dad would’ve been this accepting if Stiles had told him earlier. “I didn’t burn the dorms down, but we did have a few fire alarms over the years.”

“Because of you?”

“Not all of them,” Stiles said, smiling when his Dad chuckled. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

Noah sat silent for a second before he sighed. “Well, most parents get drugs and alcohol. My kid can make fireballs. I’m using that as bragging rights if people ever find out,” he said, leaning forward and shooting Stiles a smile. “I wish you’d told me, but you’re an adult…now, and I’m glad you’re telling me now.”

Stiles smiled back, ignoring that guilty feeling again.

Noah reached out and squeezed his forearm. “Now, tell me about this gut feeling of yours.”

“Everything she does feels fake. Like she’s saying what she needs to say to get what she wants, but she doesn’t believe it. Even when I was defending Derek, it seemed like she was giving rote answers instead of what she felt. I know there’s a lot of history there, but it seemed too…easy in the end.”

Noah pinched the bridge of his nose. “She’s had issues with Derek since the kid woke up an Alpha and killed another alpha the same day. And I never could figure out why, but I always figured it was a wolf thing. I’m guessing it’s not?”

Stiles shook his head. “To an extent, Derek would’ve needed to leave. He was a packless Alpha in another’s territory. So, he needed to leave, but the fact that their relationship is so strained is weird. Families don’t stick together, human or wolf. People marry and change packs. They need to otherwise, well…incest, and that’s bad juju for everyone involved. So, her cutting him out, especially since he’s got another pack on the other side of the country, is just fucking weird. Especially since he talks to his sisters, and I’m guessing the rest of his family.”

“Is that why you defended him today the way you did?” Noah asked. “You’ve always been a big…ah…fan of his, but this was something new. It looked like you were challenging her.”

“In a way, I was,” Stiles admitted, looking down at his palms and wondering if he would regret what had happened today. “She just rubbed me the wrong way, and now with this summit? I don’t know. It just feels off. Maybe I’m tired, who knows. I just don’t want her as my Alpha if I choose to become a werewolf.”

“Please don’t,” Noah whispered.

Stiles looked up. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t take the bite,” Noah said, his voice even softer. “I can’t stop you, but please don’t. I don’t want that life for you.”

“I’m magic,” Stiles said softly. “I’m already in this life.”

Noah shook his head. “I’ve seen what it’s done to Paige, how it’s worn her down and destroyed her dreams because she can’t break from the pack. And I don’t want that to happen to you.”

Stiles frowned. “That’s not…how packs are supposed to work. They should be able to leave for college. Pack bonds aren’t based on proximity. They’re magic. As long as the wolf has permission to be in another territory, and most packs near colleges have those agreements in place, there shouldn’t be any issues. The only problem that comes up is missing the pack, so people usually go in twos, and the Hale pack is big enough it wouldn’t have been an issue. If Paige stayed, it’s because she wanted to.

“Or she didn’t know,” Noah said, looking at Stiles. “I don’t know what happened, but maybe she didn’t know.”

“I can ask Derek,” Stiles said, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “But he’s been gone a while, and I don’t know if they’re close? I don’t know her that well.”

Noah shrugged. “They used to be. Always working at the library together. He was her Alpha for a while after, until she transferred to Talia’s pack after Kate Argent tortured him.”

Stiles wondered if the ghost of Kate Argent would ever leave Derek alone. “I’m not going to take the bite,” he said, shaking his head. “Not if I have a choice. But if I’m dying, let them bite me. I don’t want to die.”

Noah’s hand shot out and grabbed Stiles’s wrist, his eyes wide. “You…,” he started before he trailed off and inhaled deeply. “You’re not going to die. Not on my watch.”

“I’m not, I promise,” Stiles said softly. “But I want to be realistic about this. Anything could happen, you know that. And I don’t want to die. Let them bite me if it’s between a that and death.”

“I know, and same here. But promise me you’ll be careful. I had to bury your Mom, and I don’t want to bury you as well,” Noah murmmered.

Stiles nodded. “I promise.”

Part 3

June 16th, 2014

“So, wanna tell me what the fuck that was?” Cora asked the next day, jerking Stiles out of his silent contemplation of the ceiling in his room.

He sat up, staring as she stopped by the bed, Scott behind her. “Uh, hi?” he said, grabbing his blanket and pulling them up around his chest.

“Don’t be such a maiden,” Cora snapped, throwing herself into his desk chair even as Scott dropped onto the bed, half draped over Stiles’s legs. They acted like they had done this a thousand times, and Stiles did his best to relax. “I’ve seen it before.”

“I could’ve been jerking off,” Stiles snapped.

“Seen that before also,” Cora said, waving a hand.

Scott groaned. “Can we not talk about that, please? I still get secondhand embarrassment over that.”

Stiles didn’t want to know. “Me either,” he said lamely, looking between them.

“Can we go back to you deciding out of the blue not to take the bite? I thought you were a done deal so you could run off into the sunset with Derek or whatever bullshit you decided would happen as soon as you were a wolf,” Cora said, eyes flashing golden for a second as she crossed her arms. “And, let’s add that to the fact you are acting oddly around Derek.”

“Oddly around Derek?” Stiles asked, glancing between the two of them.

“Yeah, dude, you’re like…normal around him now or something. It’s weird,” Scott said, pushing himself up and scooting back so he could lean against the wall, his legs still stretched out over Stiles’s. “You’re still in love with him, right?”

“No,” Stiles said before he could stop himself. “No, I don’t love him.”

Cora tilted her head to the side. “Woah, you’re telling the truth for once.”

Stiles hated werewolves. “Look, Derek is an awesome dude, but he’s just…far away,” Stiles said lamely, trying not to think about finding his body shot to death in his apartment in the other timeline.

“Never stopped you before,” Scott pointed out.

“I’ve grown up, I guess,” Stiles said softly, slumping back against the headboard. “Everyone’s gotta realize that the Disney prince belongs on TV and nothing else.”

“Aww, bro,” Scott said, scooting up the bed and slumping next to Stiles, dropping an arm around his shoulder and ruffling his hair. “First heartbreak, I know that pain well. You’ll get over it, I promise.”

“It wasn’t heartbreak,” Stiles protested. “You have to be dating for heartbreak.”

Cora stood from the chair and climbed onto the bed, leaning against his other side. “That’s a lie,” she said softly, hugging him softly.

Stiles felt weird, sandwiched between his two friends, both of whom he didn’t know at all. He didn’t know what they liked, who their first kiss was, first date, first major injury, or anything along those lines. They were strangers to him.

“Remember when you broke up with Jackson?” Scott asked, leaning around and staring at Cora. “We should do that again.”

Stiles wrinkled his nose, keeping his thoughts about Cora and Jackson to himself. “Oh my god, it’s not a breakup,” he said, shaking his head. “We don’t need to do anything.”

“It’s noon, and you’re lying dramatically in bed like a Victorian maiden,” Cora said, shaking her head. “It’s a little like a breakup.”

“If it’s a breakup, does that mean I get to have angry ex-sex with Derek?” Stiles mused, slouching back against the headboard, resigning himself to getting fussed over.

“No!”

Scott and Cora yelled at the same time.

“Bro, it’s never a good idea,” Scott said, shaking his head. “You know that. Or have you forgotten the Amelia incident?”

“No one can forget the Amelia incident,” Stiles replied, wishing he knew what the Amelia incident was.

“Right, so no angry ex-sex even if you weren’t dating, it’s just sex and then heartbreak, and then next thing you know, your favorite pair of shoes has been set aflame just like your heart, and the whole dorm smells like feet,” Scott said forlornly. “Don’t make the world smell like feet, Stiles.”

“It wouldn’t if you actually washed,” Cora said, leaning over to shove Scott slightly. “You deserved everything Amelia did to you.”

“That’s just hurtful,” Scott said, reaching over Stiles to poke Cora with a finger. “How’s John?”

Cora growled. “Don’t talk about him.”

Stiles’s phone chose that moment to ring, and he picked it up, seeing Derek’s name. He answered it, glancing between his two friends. “Hey asshole, I’m in bed with your sister.”

Silence followed before Derek sighed. “Don’t knock her up…wait…which sister?”

“Cora, who else?” Stiles said, grinning at Cora’s affronted look.

“Right, don’t knock her up. You’re too young for kids,” Derek continued.

“Rude,” Stiles said, slumping back against the headboard. “What’s up.”

Derek went silent, and he felt Scott press closer to try and hear even as Cora’s frown deepened.

“Derek?” Stiles asked after the silence stretched for longer than necessary, wondering if he needed to kick Cora and Scott out so he could find out what was wrong.

“Thank you,” Derek said in a rush. “For arguing with Ta-Mom to get her to invite me.”

Cora made a wounded noise and pressed her face against Stiles’s shoulder. Stiles patted her leg, not sure what else he could do. The family politics surrounding Derek were confusing and would make a therapist rich.

“What else was I supposed to do?” Stiles asked. “She was short-sighted if she didn’t think that the rest of the packs wouldn’t notice it.”

Derek sighed. “Still, thank you, I appreciate it.”

“No problem,” Stiles replied, feeling uncomfortable with the heartfelt tone in Derek’s voice. “Don’t mention it, seriously. I think your Mom was about to skin me alive.”

Derek barked out a laugh. “No, she has that look often.”

Stiles thought of the fond look Talia had given the sisters and how she kissed them on the forehead. “Yeah, suppose so,” he said softly, feeling bad for Derek and wondering if there was a way to fix it.

“When are you getting here?” he asked, needing to change the subject.

“In two days,” Derek replied. “I need to book the flights for me, Kapono and two others.”

“Kapono’s coming?” Cora asked, pressing in close. “Laura will be excited.”

Derek laughed. “Kapono is dating someone, so she’s about to be disappointed.”

“She can still be excited,” Cora pointed out. “To look.”

Derek sighed. “I’ll let him know. Do you want me to bring any of my other betas to pimp out to family?”

“No, but a nice girl might be nice for Jenna. She hasn’t dated anyone since she broke up with Lauren,” Cora said, slumping against Stiles’s side. “I’m getting worried for her.”

“She spends most of her time in the park. When is she gonna have time to date?” Scott asked, looking around Stiles. “She needs to find another park ranger.”

“Like Marie?”

“Except less, you know, insane,” Scott muttered.

“High standard there,” Cora replied, her head moving as she rolled her eyes.

“Alright, children,” Stiles said, feeling confused. “So, Derek. See you soon?”

Derek chuckled. “Uh huh, I’ll see you then. Text me if you have any questions about my travel, and please never call my Dad a DILF again.”

“Hey, if you age even half as good as he does, then you’re gonna get laid even after you start needing the blue pill,” Stiles replied cheerfully, grinning at the disgusted noise. Derek hung up without saying goodbye. “How rude, no goodbye.”

He dropped his phone down and glanced to either side of him, at his two friends, who were watching him carefully. “What?” he asked.

“You’re seriously over him?” Cora asked, her eyebrows judging him.

Stiles took a moment, figuring it needed the gravitas in this world. He thought about the Derek he had known, the pile of anger and rage that did his best but failed time and time again. He thought of Derek, bloody and beaten and trying so hard to make a family and failing each time. He thought of finding Derek’s body at least a week after he had died.

“Yeah,” he said softly, trying to push the lingering guilt away. “I think I am.”

“So, why so sad?” Scott asked, slumping against Stiles’s other side, boxing him in.

Stiles didn’t know how to deal with the casual closeness and lack of anger. It made him ache for what could have been in his own world.

“Because it feels weird after so long,” Stiles said slowly, thinking of all the people he lost to hopefully trick Cora. “It’s like…I feel like I should feel something more, but I don’t. It’s like a part of me is missing.”

“Love is a heavy burden,” Cora said solemnly. “I mean, I’m glad I don’t have to watch you act all awkward around my brother anymore, but I know what it’s like to have a broken heart. It just sucks it happened to you without dating him.”

Stiles let out a gusty sigh. “Yeah, time heals, right?”

“That’s what Mom always told me,” Scott piped up.

“Was that before or after you broke up with whatsherface for the third time,” Cora asked.

“Allison? After,” Scott said.

Stiles managed not to flinch at the name. “Did the time heal?” he asked, adding another question to his list.

“No, but absence didn’t make the heart grow fonder either,” Scott replied. “Mostly, it just showed me how stupid I was and that I should’ve listened to Cora.”

“Always listen to me,” Cora said, smirking slightly. “I’m always right.”

“Are you, though?” Stiles asked before he could stop himself.

Cora pinched his leg, and he jerked away with a grunt. “Rude,” he muttered, rubbing his leg. “You shouldn’t be that strong through the bedsheets.

“Werewolf,” Scott and Cora chorused together.

Stiles shook his head and began to wiggle out of the bedsheets, shaking his head. “It’s abuse is what it is. Friendship abuse, I’m telling you.”

There was a moment of silence before Stiles felt himself grabbed and dragged back, Scott and Cora wrestling him until they pinned him. For a moment, Stiles panicked as he flashed back to all the times someone had shoved him to the ground, but fingers digging into the ticklish spot on his ribs chased that away as he began to squirm and wriggle, trying to get away.

“No! Nope, stop,” he said, trying to curl up, but it was impossible with Scott on his legs and Cora half over his chest, both of them digging fingers into his ribs. “Uncle! Uncle!”

“Gotta say sorry first,” Cora said, stopping but not letting him go.

“Yeah, we’re not friendship abusing. This is just…friendship love,” Scott said, patting his thigh. “Like bro time, but the three of us.”

“That’s called a threesome, and neither of you are my type,” Stiles muttered, jerking away from where Cora poked him in the side.

“Ew,” Cora said, wrinkling her nose. “Take that back or else.”

Stiles was silent for a moment before he tried to buck up, to no avail. Stiles felt carefree for the first time in longer than he could remember. There was nothing major hanging over his shoulders, and his Dad was alive, Derek was alive, Scott wasn’t slowly dying as he hung onto his Alpha spark with everything he had, and Lydia wasn’t screaming so much her throat bled constantly.

He didn’t want this moment to end.

“I’ll never surrender!” he yelled, beginning to squirm as they started up again.

---

An hour later, Stiles looked around the diner. One of Cora’s uncles, who Stiles apparently knew, ran it, but the man was just another face in the crowd at the pack meeting.

“Alright, you little assholes,” a tall, excessively handsome man who had to be the Uncle appeared, carrying plates. “For Cora, too many pancakes and no bacon because she fails in life. For Scott, a four egg omelet with extra cheese and bacon, because he eats like he’s in college all the time, and for Stiles, the works because his body is secretly a black hole.”

The man put the plate down in front of Stiles, and he found his mouth-watering almost immediately at the sight of a full American breakfast. All of it perfectly cooked and sizzling.

“Oh, come to papa,” he said, pulling the plate closer to him and almost scrambling for his knife and fork.

“Thanks, James,” Scott said cheerfully, making Stiles lookup.

“Yeah, thanks, dude,” Stiles said, staring at the man. He looked like what Stiles imagined Derek would’ve grown up to look like if he had been allowed to get old. “I think you’re all clones, by the way.”

James stared at him. “What?”

Stiles circled his fork at James and then pointed to Cora. “Dark hair, expressive eyebrows, pretty eyes. Clones. All of you. It doesn’t make sense otherwise. No family can be that attractive naturally.”

James stared at him for a little bit longer. “I’m going to go and get you some more coffee, I think.”

Stiles watched him walk away before turning back, finding Cora and Scott staring at him. “What?”

“First Dad and now James? Who’s next?” Cora asked.

“Got any other uncles?” Stiles shot back, winking at her.

“You know, just because you’ve given up on Derek doesn’t mean there are any other Hales out there who wanna date you,” Scott said, squirting ketchup and hot sauce over his omelet.

“I don’t want to date them, heathen,” Stiles replied, grimacing at the bloody mess on Scott’s plate. “I just want to, you know…get railed six ways from Sunday.”

There was the sound of a plane crashing, and Stiles turned with everyone else to see James’ head pop up and wave a hand. “Just a cup, no worries. No one’s hurt,” he said cheerfully, waving everyone away.

Stiles grimaced, forgetting that James would be a werewolf and he’d have the same hearing as the other wolves. “Whoops,” he said softly. “Sorry, dude.”

Cora rolled her eyes. “This is what happens when you don’t come back for winter break. You forget things. Like how good our hearing is.”

Stiles grimaced again. “I know, I know. I am sorry.”

He flinched as James slammed down a cup on the table, and he looked up to see the irritated look he was used to from Derek. “Sorry, I uh…forgot. That was a little too far even for me.”

James braced a hand on the table and leaned down, glaring at him. Stiles met his gaze easily, unsure of what the other man wanted. It took a second before James stood up and shook his head, ruffling his hair. “You are a menace to society, kid.”

“Not a kid,” Stiles replied as James walked away.

James stopped and turned, throwing Stiles a familiar smirk. “And not with Derek either, lucky him.”

“Low blow, dude, low blow,” Stiles called back, flipping James off before turning back to his food. “He doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

Stiles had always thought Derek was attractive, and he had a little bit of a crush back in his own world, but it had been small. Quickly disappearing whenever Derek would snap at him over something that wasn’t his fault. It had been a push and pull, and Derek had often frustrated him because of how capable he could seem in one moment and how much he failed in the next. So, while Stiles would never admit to a crush, there was a base admiration there that made it easier for him to make everyone believe he was over his apparent lifelong crush.

“Gonna eat that?” Scott asked, around a mouthful of food, pointing at Stiles’s bacon.

Stiles wrapped an arm around his food and glared at Scott. “Don’t you dare.”

“Then don’t waste good food,” Scott replied, swallowing only to shove another mouthful in.

Stiles shoved his fork into his food and began to eat, groaning at the first bite and eating faster. Everything was fresh, and it tasted so good he thought he would die of happiness with each bite.

“Don’t choke,” Cora said, watching him in amusement even as she shoved her food in her mouth at an alarming rate.

“Like you?” he asked, speaking around puffy cheeks as he did his best to chew and swallow at the same time.

“Werewolf, I’ll heal,” Cora replied, shoving an even larger bite of food into her mouth.

Stiles glared and swallowed his food. “Only if someone clears your airway, and I won’t,” he lied, waving his fork at her. “Just so I can steal your food.”

“I’ll save you,” Scott said cheerfully, a bit of egg falling onto the plate. “Don’t worry. Some of us know CPR.”

Cora pressed a hand against her forehead and collapsed against Scott. “My hero! Sweeping me off my feet away from the dastardly Mieczysław.”

“Five points for dramatics, negative 10 for the pronunciation,” Stiles said, wondering when he had told her his first name.

Cora sat up. “Come on. It’s got to be close by now.”

Stiles shrugged a shoulder. “Sure, closer than say…anyone else might get outside of my family.

“Mieczysław,” Scott said with a grin, the pronunciation perfect. “Yes?”

Stiles fought to keep from gaping. “Yes, as I said. Outside of my family,” he said, glaring at Scott, who beamed happily back at him.

“Rude, I’m the sister you wished you had.”

“Is it the sister he wished he had or the sister-in-law?” Scott asked, setting his fork down on his empty plate and picking up his hot chocolate.

“Both,” Cora said after a moment, picking up her fork. “Mieczysław here needed a sibling.”

“I wouldn’t wish two of him on the Sherriff,” Scott said, leaning back in his chair. “Would you?”

“No, but he got the five of us in high school, so I suppose that’s a close second,” Cora said.

“Still said it wrong,” Stiles sing-songed. “It’s Mieczysław.”

“That’s what I’m saying!”

“Not, it’s not,” Stiles and Scott said simultaneously.

“Jinx!” they chorused.

“Jinx again!”

“Equal?”

Stiles grinned at Scott, who smiled back at him. “I’ll pay for yours, and you can pay for mine?” he offered.

Scott nodded. “Good.”

“You two are hopeless. It’s the same price,” Cora said in disgust.

“It’s the principal of the matter, Cora Jean,” Scott said, patting her shoulder. “You cannot go against the Jinx curse.”

“Curses don’t exist.”

“Neither do werewolves, but hey. Here we are,” Stiles said, shoveling the last bite into his mouth and leaning back against the booth, wishing he had worn pants without a waistband. “Roll me to the grave, for my heart is made of butter and bacon.”

“Butter, bacon, and bullshit,” Cora replied, picking up her coffee and handing her card to one of the waiters who passed. “Speaking of bullshit, when do you start at the library again? The crones want to know.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow. “When do they need me?” he asked, needing to dig his phone out of his pocket and ask Derek yet another question about a life he didn’t remember. He wondered if he could get the man to write a primer on him—Stiles Stilinski v.1.0 101.

“Fucked if I know.”

Stiles sighed. “I’ll swing past after breakfast and ask. I’m going to need a walk to burn off the entire pig I just ate.”

Scott snorted. “Remember when you ate nothing but bacon on a dare?”

“I was younger and dumber.”

“It was last summer.”

“As I said, younger and dumber,” Stiles said, cupping his coffee and feeling the warmth sink into his hands. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

Scott chuckled and checked his watch before nudging Cora. “Still good to give me a ride to work?”

Cora nodded, taking the check from one of the waiters who brought it past. “Yeah,” she said absently, tapping her fingers in the air for a second before writing down a number and signing it. “Alright, you each owe me twenty, and by each, I mean Scott because I still owed you from the last time we ate.”

Stiles nodded, not bothering to argue. “Sounds good to me.”

“You wanna come with?” Cora asked, taking Scott’s money and shoving it into her wallet.

Stiles shook his head. “No, I think I’m gonna swing past the library and see when they need me in.”

Cora nodded and stood, stretching his arms up overhead. “Alright, come on, loser.”

“Yeah, yeah, brat,” Scott said affectionately, smiling at Cora the way Stiles had used to see him smile at Allison. He fought to keep his face from showing his surprise, instead watching Scott scoot out of the booth.

“Bro, time later?” Scott asked, standing up and holding out his fist.

Stiles pounded it. “Yeah, just hit me up when you’re done.”

“Miss you already,” Scott said with a grin, turning to head out.

“You’re both disgusting,” Cora said, ruffling Stiles’s hair as she walked past. “I hate you both.”

“I am the wind beneath your wings,” Stiles called after her, grinning when she flipped him off. He collapsed back against the seat, cupping the coffee in his hands and watching them get into Cora’s car outside the diner and take off a second later.

A plate dropping down made him flinch, and he turned, spotting James standing there, holding up a carafe of coffee. “More?”

Stiles held out his cup and nodded to the plate with the most delicious-looking cinnamon roll. “We already paid.”

“On the house,” James said, topping the cup up. “For getting Talia to agree to bring Derek back. It was never right what happened with him, so my thanks to you.”

Stiles nodded, cupping the coffee. “I appreciate it, but I’m not the one you need to tell that to,” he said, meeting James’s eyes.

“Talia never—”

“—not talking about Talia,” Stiles interrupted, meeting James’s gaze head-on. “Yeah?”

James sighed and nodded. “Yeah, fair point. You know, you grew a spine.”

Stiles shrugged one shoulder, more curious about this version of himself than before. “Well, I found my spine when I stopped trying to get it blown out,” he said, grinning at James’s look of disgust.

“You know what, for that, cinnamon roll revoked,” James said, picking up the plate.

“No wait, you’re like my…third favorite Hale,” he said, holding out a hand at the enticing cinnamon roll.

James eyed him for a second. “You’re a menace to society.”

“So they tell me,” Stiles said, pulling the plate closer to him and swiping a finger over the top. “Definitely mine now.”

James shook his head and left without another word. Stiles glanced around him for a second before pulling out his phone and pulling up his texts with Derek.

Me: dude, who tf r the crones and why r they in the lib?

Hale, Derek Hale: I did not miss this.

Me: wat?

Hale, Derek Hale: Shorthand texting.

Stiles frowned and scrolled back up, looking at the texts from before he came back, seeing the full sentences, and rolled his eyes.

Me: get used 2 it brand new world bb

Hale, Derek Hale: The crones are the librarians. I used to work there, and then Cora volunteered. You never left, and you two became friends and started working there when you were old enough. Do not fuck with them. They will fuck you back twice as hard.

Me: so not crones then

Hale, Derek Hale: The hills weren’t alive when they were born. Do not fuck with them.

Me: fine fine, also 4 record, old me was vry diff.

Derek took a long time to reply, long enough that Stiles managed to eat half of his cinnamon roll and finish his coffee, both of which pushed him from comfortable to too full, and he groaned, leaning back and pressing a hand over his stomach, glad he was going to walk soon. His phone buzzed, and he picked it up to read the text.

Hale, Derek Hale: He was. He didn’t go through the same things you did. But he was still you. He still got obsessed and hyper-fixated on things, and he wanted to help people. He just didn’t have the same problems harden him, so he was softer, nicer, and more optimistic.

Stiles stared at his phone, trying to picture what he would’ve been like if he had never been dragged into the supernatural world the way he did. Bloody and violent.

Me: do u miss him?

Stiles tapped his free hand on the table as he chewed his bottom lip, wanting to know the answer. He still hadn’t come to terms with the fact that he had essentially hijacked a body, and he wanted to know where the other Stiles was, but he didn’t at the same time. He didn’t like to think about the answer.

Hale, Derek Hale: Yes, and no. I missed you when you weren’t around, and I’ll miss him. He was a friend, but he never held me up in a pool for hours to save my life. It’s complicated. And I don’t think I’ll reconcile it.

Stiles wanted to ask where Derek thought this Stiles’s mind had gone, but he stopped himself in time. He had a feeling he wouldn’t like the answer, regardless of what Derek told him. He tapped out an apology, erased it, and then retyped it.

Hale, Derek Hale: Don’t apologize.

Me: don’t read my mind weirdo.

Hale, Derek Hale: It’s done. It’s not worth lingering over. You made a choice that you thought you needed to make based on the world you told me about, and I can’t fault you for that. If the Goddess didn’t want you here, she wouldn’t have let you come.

Me: goddess?

Hale, Derek Hale: She is magic. She’s the sun, the water, the earth, and the wind. She makes life, and she takes it. We have free will, and we can make choices. But she can bring a tornado down and make it skip every house but yours.

Stiles raised an eyebrow at the phone, wishing he was in private so he could call and ask Derek more about this Goddess. He could hear the reverence over the phone, and he knew there was a story there, but it felt cheap to talk about it over text.

Me: right, way 2 make more ? than answer. Im going 2 c crones, ttyl

Hale, Derek Hale: I deeply regret texting you.

Me: I am the wind beneath ur wings, boo.

Stiles put his phone away, not expecting Derek to reply to him anytime soon, and stood up, waving to James as he left to head to the library.

Thankfully, Beacon Hills hadn’t changed, and he cut through a back alley that would get him there quicker. Part of him kept waiting for Derek to reply, but the few times he felt his phone buzz and he checked it, they were from Scott or Cora, with one from someone named The Other Other Hale that was nothing but a series of laughing emojis.

He cut through a parking lot and stopped when he heard his name, looking up and seeing Talia and Deaton standing in the parking lot, dirty and carrying plants that looked familiar to Stiles.

“Howdy,” he said, waving a hand, smiling at them.

They exchanged a glance before Talia smiled at Stiles. “Stiles, what brings you here?”

Stiles looked around, spotting the Guns ‘n Ammo sign, and shrugged. “Your brother decided to do a witch impersonation and stuff me with all sorts of treats to turn me into a nice dumpling for the dinner rush. Too bad for him I’m not lost, but I did have to work off the food,” he said, patting his stomach.

Talia’s smile strained. “That’s…wonderful,” she said awkwardly.

Stiles nodded. “Now, I’m heading to the library to check in with the crones,” he said, taking a few steps forward, noting how they tensed up. “Did you need help with something?”

Talia shook her head. “No…Deaton just brought me some herbs for dinner from his garden,” she said, holding up the plant.

Stiles peered at it, recognizing bloodroot and raising an eyebrow. “Dinner?” he asked, looking up at Talia and seeing the tight smile. He wondered if people believed her or if it was because he was used to being stabbed in the back that he found her so distrustful. “Spicy.”

Talia laughed softly, and it almost sounded real. “Maybe, if you have no tastebuds.”

“Burned mine out with hot sauce years ago,” Stiles said, looking over at Deaton and the plants he was carrying. He recognized them both, the first from pictures, but he was well aware of what the second one was. “I don’t know what that white herb is, but maybe you shouldn’t stick the dinner herbs with the wolfsbane.”

Deaton looked down and nodded, his expression never changing. “No, I suppose not.”

Stiles glanced at Talia, who grimaced and nodded. “I overlooked that. Thank you, Stiles.”

“No problemo,” he said, jerking his thumb to the side. “I’m gonna go now, can’t keep the crones waiting. They might curse me to be even more handsome than I am now.”

“It was good seeing you,” Talia said.

“You two, too,” Stiles said, before turning and leaving, glad to get away from the awkwardness of that situation.

“Stiles!”

Stiles turned at Talia, calling his name. “Yep?”

“Keep this between us. Please? I want it to be a surprise,” Talia said with the same fake smile on her face from before.

Stiles smiled back. “Sure thing, Mrs. Hale.”

“Thank you.”

Stiles gave her a thumbs up and left. He made it to the library without seeing anyone else and stepped inside, expecting it to look different, but it didn’t. It looked the same as it always did with books and the low murmur of conversation. There were a couple of plants he could see, and he stepped closer, tilting his head to the side as he stared at them.

A noise got his attention, and he turned, watching an old woman who looked like she should be next to the picture for a librarian in the dictionary walk to the front desk at peer at him.

“Oh, you’re back.”

Stiles jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Did you put Cinquefoil and Bladderwrack together?”

The woman pushed up her glasses and peered at him, her face twisting into a scowl. “Mrs. Cailleach,” she said, her voice even.

Stiles raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“She’s talking to me.”

Stiles flinched at the voice behind him, and he spun around to see another, short lady peering up at him from behind wire-rimmed glasses. “Oh, hi,” he said, taking a step back, sure she hadn’t been there before.

“Got another one,” the first woman said.

“I can see that, Mrs. O’Connell,” Mrs. Cailleach said. “Hm. Old this time.”

“Another one?” Stiles asked, glancing between the two of them.

“Very old. Layered,” Mrs. Cailleach said.

Stiles suddenly remembered where he knew her name. “Isn’t Cailleach the name of the queen of winter?”

Mrs. Cailleach hummed softly and nodded once. “You’re smarter, good. That’s good.”

Stiles felt out of his depth as he glanced between the two ladies, and he could see why Cora called them the crones. “I just came to see when you wanted me to work,” he said carefully, not sure.

Mrs. Cailleach waved a hand in the air. “Come, come. You’ll work when you have time. A storm is coming.”

“Hopefully, we can use the rain, even if it might cause a wildfire,” Stiles said, following the old woman across the library to where a third woman sat, dressed like she had stepped out of the 1920s, right down to the red cloche hat she was wearing. She was a lot younger than the other two, with dark hair and eyes the same color as the ocean right before a storm.

“Don’t play stupid. It’s beneath you,” Mrs. O’Connell said from behind him.

Stiles flinched and turned, staring at the woman who stared back at him. “You’re not human,” he shot back, glaring slightly.

“No shit,” she muttered, walking past him to join the other two. “What gave it away?”

“Don’t be mean to him. He’s new here,” the third woman said, standing up and holding out her hand. “I’m Eileen Whelan. You can call me Mrs. Whelan,” she said with a smile.

“Nice to meet you, Stiles Stilinski,” he said, shaking her hand. “But I’m sure you know that.”

“Oh, we knew a Stiles. Lovely young boy, so curious and excited about the world,” Mrs. Whelan said, shaking her head. “So innocent.”

“Lucky him,” Stiles muttered. “Would be nice to be this old and still stupid.”

Mrs. Whelan clucked her tongue, and Stiles suddenly felt like he was five years old again and told not to run anywhere. “Don’t disparage the dead. It’s not polite.”

Stiles opened his mouth before her words hit him, and he swallowed, staring at her. “So, he’s…dead? I killed him?”

Mrs. Whelan shrugged one shoulder. “I cannot say for sure, but the physical body isn’t meant to hold two souls. Do you ever feel out of control? Like you’ve lost time?”

“No,” Stiles said softly, crossing his arms over his chest and feeling colder.

“Then you’re not sharing, he is gone, and I will light a candle for him tonight.”

“Don’t know why,” Mrs. O’Connell said, but even her voice was more subdued. “The Goddess let this one come back. The storm that’s brewing needs power, not positivity.”

Mrs. Cailleach clucked her tongue. “We will not disparage the dead. We can mourn him later,” she said, her voice solemn.

She turned intense eyes on him, and Stiles was certain she could see right into the depth of his soul. “Something is brewing.”

Stiles wanted to play stupid, but he nodded. Standing this close to the three of them he could feel the power rolling off them, and he wondered how other people missed it. “I think so, something with Alpha Hale. Talia, not Derek.”

“Another old one, but he was never smart enough to see,” Mrs. Cailleach said, tapping the corner of his eye.

“The boy had a lot going on,” Mrs. Whelan said, shaking her head. “I miss him. He had such beautiful handwriting.”

“Sassy little shit,” Mrs. O’Connell said affectionately. “Beacon Hills would’ve been better kicking Talia out. New blood is better than old sometimes. Washes away the sins of the past.”

“Which sin?” Stiles interrupted, sure that they could go on for hours if they wanted to. “I’m sure there’s many.”

“Don’t know, that’s the problem,” Mrs. Whelan explained. “Can’t see where the storms are coming from. Only know Talia is at its center, and we don’t know why.”

“She’s holding a gathering of different packs at the summer solstice,” Stiles said, looking between the three of them. “A few packs, and Derek’s, will be in attendance. And I just saw her and Deaton with Bloodroot, wolfsbane, and boneset, tried to tell me it was dinner herbs.”

The three women let out a unified ‘hmmm’, and Stiles was sure the disapproval was a real weight on his shoulders for a second. He could smell the power in the air, the smell of rain on a hot pavement filling the air before it was gone.

“Exactly,” he said into the silence, looking between them. “Any idea what it is?”

“No,” Mrs. Whelan said. “The Druid is old, and he knows a lot of rituals from a lot of places. And while dangerous, those three herbs are not uncommon. I’m sorry to say.”

“I…don’t have a good feeling about this,” Stiles admitted, feeling like he could trust them. “And I don’t know if it’s because I am new here or if there is something going on.”

“Storms comin’,” Mrs. O’Connell said. “Can feel it as easily as I can see you standing there. Don’t know which way it’s gonna come from or where it’s gonna start, but it’s coming. And I don’t think you coming here is out of the blue.”

“I sent myself back. The world was dying,” Stiles admitted, glancing between the three of them. “I had to fix it.”

“You know why it was dying?”

Stiles shook his head. “It all went to shit after Derek was killed. It was a bit shit before that, but it got worse when he died. And it just kept getting worse. The Alpha at the time, he uh…he had all the drive as a werewolf but none of the power. He died a little before we did the ritual, from an asthma attack.”

Stiles dropped his chin to his chest and didn’t meet any of their eyes. The sight of Scott’s blue lips and the fear in his eyes would haunt him for the rest of his life. Just as finding his Dad ripped to pieces by the harpies would linger. He had so many memories of horrible things that seeing the joy and happiness in this world made it hard sometimes.

“That ain’t good,” Mrs. Callieach said, shaking her head. “Hale’s are the keystones of the werewolves. That family dies out. The wolves die out.”

“I figured as much,” Stiles said softly. “Derek was the last one, except for Cora, and I can assume she died at some point, and Peter…well, he died and came back to life, so I’m guessing he didn’t count.”

The three librarians looked at him with wide eyes, and he shrugged a shoulder. “It was a hard road,” he said, not sure he could even explain everything. Not when it is often felt like a blur to him as well.

“What ritual?” Mrs. Whelan asked. “To send you back.”

Stiles shifted, uncomfortable. “Blood of an alpha, lighting from a kitsune, and the last scream of a banshee,” he said softly. “On top of the Nemeton. All burned up with fire from a hellhound.”

The silence that followed was heavy, and Stiles shifted under the weight of their gazes.

“Well, shit, kid, you don’t fuck around, do you?” Mrs. O’Connell said.

“The world was dying,” Stiles reiterated.

“Suppose it was,” Mrs. O’Connell said. “Too bad you never figured out why.”

“We knew the nematons were being destroyed, but not all of them. I didn’t have time to look into it, and I didn’t have the resources I needed to figure it out,” Stiles snapped back. “You sure as shit weren’t there. No one was there. Everyone was dead except for a band of kids who didn’t know anything.”

“Peace,” Mrs. Whelan said, resting a hand on his shoulder. “She means no harm, but it just makes things a little more complicated now.”

“When Derek gets here, I’ll talk to him,” Stiles said. “He knows that world, and maybe he’ll know something I missed.”

Mrs. O’Connell turned and walked away, heading into the back towards a door Stiles swore hadn’t been there a second ago. She opened it, and for a second, he could see shelves lined with different things, the smell of a damp campfire filling the library for a second before it was gone, and Mrs. O’Connell was back and handing him a small stick.

He took it, turning it over in his hands. “Rowan?” he asked, looking up at him. “Why?”

“Gonna need a boost, kid,” Mrs. O’Connell explained. “Ain’t just Rowan. Got a core of star anise and witches burr. You need it, light it and chew the other end. It’ll give your magic a boost.”

Stiles looked down at the stick, turning it this way and that to try and see where the stick had been hollowed out, but couldn’t. “How?”

Mrs. O’Connell and Mrs. Whelan smiled, looking towards Mrs. Cailleach, who shrugged. “Like you said. Cailleach is the Queen of Winter. All sorts of things hollow out in winter. Just gotta know some people who can fill it with life again.”

Mrs. Whelan wiggled her fingers and touched the tips of her fingers to her cap, and Mrs. O’Connell harrumphed.

“So, you’re all fairies?” Stiles asked. “Like my own fairy godmothers?”

“I ain’t no fairy, kid,” Mrs. O’Connell snapped.

“She’s a púca; I’m a marrow,” Mrs. Whelan said, smiling. “The oceans full of life, of all sorts. It’s got a lot of power.”

“I know,” Stiles said, trying to come to terms with the merwoman dressed like she had rolled out of the Great Gatsby and nowhere near water. He nodded towards the hat. “Explains the hat then.”

Mrs. Whelan let out a delighted laugh. “Oh, you do know your stories.”

“When the worlds dying, you have a lot of motivation to learn,” he said, looking between the two of them. “We’re…not close to the ocean.”

“Ain’t far either,” Mrs. O’Connell explained. “Beira here got enough power we ain’t worried.”

Stiles nodded, looking down at the stick in his hand. “So…can’t tell me anything else?” he asked, looking up. “Because I have nowhere to look.”

“Talk to Derek, he’s had more time in this world, and he’s a smart kid,” Mrs. Whelan said. “The Goddess brought the two of you back for a reason, so it makes sense for you to talk to him first.”

Stiles sighed. “Well, it won’t be hard. He’ll be here soon.”

Part 4

June 18th, 2014

Stiles didn’t know why he was nervous. It was just Derek. He did his best to look calm and collected next to Cora’s pacing, and Peters affected nonchalance. Talia had chosen them to meet Derek as the others met the varying packs as they arrived.

“Don’t look so nervous,” Peter said, glancing at Stiles. “It’s not like you had a crush on the guy for nine years and followed him like a lost puppy.”

Stiles glared at Peter. “You wanna go there, dude?” he demanded, leaning back against the jeep. “Because I’m not afraid to fight dirty.”

Peter looked at him, blue eyes calm and collected and so different from crazy Uncle Peter that he didn’t know how to deal with him. Finally, Peter sighed. “No, I suppose I don’t.”

Stiles nodded, not feeling like he had won something by making Peter back down. Not when he used to the threat of Derek’s ostracization against him. He crossed his arms, wishing it was winter so he could wear a hoodie and shove his hands into the pockets. Instead, it was a hot day, with the promise of even more heat as the day wore on. Stiles felt like he was sweltering in the jeans and black batman shirt, but he was sure that part of it was nerves.

“Cars coming,” Cora said suddenly, stopping with her head tilted.

They were on an unused service road Jenna had told them about, one of many the Hales used for pack business. Stiles felt like he was in a mob movie, waiting for some hitman to bring them a body to dispose of.

A black SUV rounded the corner, the windows tinted so it was hard to make out who was inside, at least for Stiles. He shoved his hands into his back pockets, feeling the rowan stick the crones had given him, and wrapped a hand around it, forcing himself to calm down.

Peter and Cora stood up, moving slightly forward, ahead of Stiles as if to protect him, and he rolled his eyes. “It’s Derek. You two can chill,” he muttered, standing between them as the car rolled to the stop.

“It’s tradition,” Peter explained.

“It’s Derek,” Stiles replied, glaring at Peter and wishing James had been here instead. James at least seemed excited at the prospect of his nephew coming to town. Stiles hadn’t been able to get a read on Peter yet.

The car shut off, and the door on the driver’s side opened. One of the biggest guys Stiles had ever seen got out of the car. He flashed back to Ennis and did his best not to shiver, knowing that man was long dead. The man was broad and tall and smiled widely at them, bright teeth looking even whiter against his tan complexion. A woman got out of the passenger side, her dark hair pulled back into a braid and a soft smile on her face, looking like she had stepped out of a fashion magazine. It took a second for Stiles to place her and his breath caught at the memory of her feral gaze, matted hair, and anguish when they had found her in Lost Cove. A third man came from behind the passenger side, almost as tall as the first man but lean, and he had an air of authority about him that Stiles recognized from his Dad.

The last door opened, and Cora moved faster than Stiles’s eyes could track, an excited scream leaving her mouth. Stiles grinned and glanced at Peter, who was looking up at the sky again.

“Tradition, huh?” he asked, his smile getting even wider at Peter’s eye roll.

“It’s Derek,” Peter replied, joining Cora in the hug, wrapping his arms around the siblings, hiding Derek from view.

He glanced at the other three, who were watching him warily. Stiles pulled his hands out of his pockets and spread them to the side, wondering what was wrong. The first man shook his head and mimed zipping his lips before mouthing ‘later’ at him.

Stiles nodded and turned back as the excited laughter settled down. Part of him expected Derek to look different, like someone he didn’t recognize, even though he knew that was stupid. He still looked like Derek. Same haircut, same stubbly chin, same broad shoulders, and trim waist. The only difference was that he had lost the haunted look in favor of a soft smile that widened when he spotted Stiles. Derek looked like someone who hadn’t gone through an unreasonable amount of trauma, and Stiles found himself stunned, unable to find words in the face of the sheer happiness on Derek’s face.

Derek might look the same, but he wasn’t the same.

“Looking old there,” he finally said. “Do I detect a hint of gray in your hair?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Considering what you told me about Dad, I thought you’d like that.”

Stiles wrinkled his nose. “Don’t hold me accountable for what I say when I’m punchy.”

“So, always?” Derek asked, shoving his hands into his pockets and staring at Stiles.

Stiles shrugged and spread his arms to the side. “I am a man of many talents.”

“You’re both idiots,” Cora said, wrapping her arms around Derek and hugging him again. “I’m glad you’re back.”

Derek’s smile softened, and he wrapped his arms around Cora, kissing the side of her head. “Good to be back, even if it is for a short time.”

“Well, we’ll enjoy the short time,” Peter said, wrapping his arm around Cora’s shoulders. “Do you want to go through the whole greeting, or can we say we did.”

Derek smiled at Peter, more open than Stiles expected. “Maybe for the sake of the reason we’re all gathering, we should?”

Derek’s eyes flickered towards Stiles before going back to Peter and Cora. Stiles could read the hidden message easily. It was for him to learn names he should know already. It occurred to Stiles that they were terrible at making sure everyone had the correct information.

Peter cleared his throat, and the packs went back to their sides, taking a second to get settled. Stiles looked at the other four, taking in what he could, but it was hard when his gaze kept getting drawn towards Derek, and the ease at which he was standing, hands in his pockets and none of the tension he remembered. Derek’s pack was all dressed well but in clothes that showed signs of being well used.

“Alpha Hale, we the Hale pack welcome you in friendship,” Peter said, touching the tips of his fingers to his forehead and then down over his heart. “May the moonlight your path and the sun keep you warm.”

Derek smiled and bowed his head. “Thank you,” he said, repeating the gesture. “May the sun fill your days with laughter and the moon fill your nights with food.”

Peter bowed his head. “My name is Peter Hale, and I am the left hand for the Hale pack. To my left is Cora Hale, the third daughter of the Alpha and to my right is…Stiles Stilinski.”

Stiles waved a hand. “I’m the good-looking one,” he quipped, ignoring Peter’s slight glare.

“Thank you for your names,” Derek said, inclining his head slightly, before tilting his head towards the tall man. “I am Alpha Derek Hale and to my right is Kapono Hale, my third and to my left is Julia May, my left hand, and next to her is Sai David…he’s lucky.”

“We welcome you,” Peter repeated, bowing deeper this time, exposing his neck. “In friendship with open hearts and hope that you always have a home when the Full Moon sets.”

Derek bowed, not as deep as Peter, but he exposed his neck for a split second before standing back up. “We thank you for your welcome, and may your home be filled with laughter and the scent of family.”

The two of them stepped forward and reached out, gripping each other’s forearms and holding on. A moment passed, and then Peter yanked Derek forward, wrapping him up in another tight hug.

“Welcome home, kiddo,” Peter said, thumping Derek on the back.

Derek hugged Peter tightly. “Good to be back,” he said, sounding choked up. Cora jumped forward, wiggling into the hug, laughing when Derek wrapped an arm around her shoulders and held her tightly.

Stiles crossed his arms over his chest and smiled, glad for the three of them. Stiles looked back at Derek’s pack, seeing Julia’s eyes darting around, and despite the smile, Kapono had never relaxed. Sai was a step back, near the car door, ready to run. They kept looking at Derek, and Stiles relaxed. Derek’s pack had his back. That was obvious

Derek finally extracted himself from Peter and Cora’s hug and walked over to Stiles, stopping in front of him. Stiles was surprised that he was the same height as Derek. Part of him expected the other man to still be taller than him, towering over him with a frightening intensity despite the fear that never left his eyes, but that wasn’t this Derek. This Derek was softer, more at ease in his skin.

Stiles stuck out his hand. “Good to see you,” he said smiling, wondering what the other Stiles would’ve done.

Derek looked at the hand and shook it for a second before using the grip to pull Stiles into a tight hug. Stiles tensed up before he relaxed and hugged Derek back, holding the other man tightly. He could see Cora’s eyebrows climbing up her forehead in shock, and he stuck his tongue out at her for good measure, his hands curling into fists to grip Derek’s shirt.

“Thanks,” Derek said after a second. “For talking to Mom.”

“No problem, dude, you know I’m always down to annoy people,” he replied, not wanting to break the hug because, despite the history between them, Stiles was still glad to see Derek alive.

Cora smirked at him, winking and making a kissy face before giving him two thumbs up. Stiles let go of Derek’s shirt and flipped her off for good measure. Derek’s arms tightened before he let go, taking a step back and giving Stiles a wide smile that he had never seen before. It was almost blinding in its intensity, the joy apparent, and it changed Derek’s entire face.

“Right, we should head back to the house now,” Peter said, shooting a questioning look at Stiles when Derek turned around. “Talia has a feast, and the other Alpha’s should’ve arrived by now.”

“It’ll be good to meet everyone,” Derek said, walking back to his car.

“I’m…gonna go with the Hardy Boys, and girl,” Stiles said, jerking his thumb towards Derek, knowing this would be one of the few times they’d have a moment of peace in the coming days. “If that’s alright?”

Peter’s smile turned into something sly. “I’ve heard the middle seats on those are pretty tight. You might need to sit pretty close.”

Stiles smiled back at him. “I have no issues with third wheeling a couple because it’s a lot of fun being in the middle, but you’re not my type. Sorry, Petey.”

Peter’s mouth dropped open as Cora broke out into peals of laughter, staggering and throwing a hand out to brace herself against the car. Peter’s gaze narrowed, and his arms crossed over his chest.

“Someday, someone’s going to shut you up. You know that, right?” Peter said, trying to look mean, but he wasn’t crazy Uncle Peter, so it fell flat.

Stiles shrugged. “I know I’ve got a big mouth, but somehow I don’t think you’re the man to fill it up.”

Peter glared at him. “You are a menace to society.”

Stiles opened his mouth.

“Stiles,” Derek said, a hint of warning in his tone.

“Don’t start none, won’t be none,” Stiles said instead, shooing. “Go, warn Alpha Hale that her prodigal son has returned. I’m going to go back with the sexy Brady bunch and try not to die from hormone overload.”

Cora broke out into laughter again as she climbed into the car. Peter rolled his eyes but nodded, making his way to the car. They were gone a few seconds later, and Stiles knew he would be getting a lot of text messages from her as soon as she got herself under control. He watched the car disappear around the bend before he turned, glaring at Derek.

“They know,” Derek said before Stiles could open his mouth.

“What?”

Derek waved around the pack. “They know our uh…circumstances.”

Stiles glared at him a little bit more before pulling his knife out of his pocket, quickly making the same rune he had used in his Dad’s house on the ground to pull up a silence ward around them. He stood up, brushing his hands off on his jeans before looking up, seeing the raised eyebrows.

“What?” he asked. “I told you I could do magic.”

“No, you told me the other Stiles was studying magic, not the same thing,” Derek replied.

“I’m pretty sure I told you that I performed a ritual to get back here,” Stiles replied. “But let’s focus on the more important things. Like why the fuck they know? Everyone knows the first rule of time travel is not to tell anyone.”

“Technically, the first rule is not to mess anything up, which was not going to happen,” Derek replied.

Stiles jutted out his chin and waved a hand around. “Explain.”

Derek sighed. “Some of us didn’t have anyone else and had to keep it all a secret until someone asked too many questions, and I sort of…”

Derek trailed off and sighed.

“He had a meltdown, ran outside, stripped naked, turned into a wolf, and ran into the woods,” Kapono supplied. “Most of the town’s shifters, so we all heard. Those that didn’t heard soon enough.”

Derek gritted his teeth. “Thanks for that.”

Kapono clapped Derek on the shoulder. “Anytime.”

Stiles pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Right, so. Let’s have a quick rundown for my own peace of mind. We’re,” he stopped and indicated between him and Derek, “from an alternate timeline, and somehow you came back and fucked the timeline, which I suppose is fair considering what a shit show it is. But then I also came back, but on purpose. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad the world isn’t dying again, but if you fixed all the shit, why am I here? Why did it work?

He looked up, looking between the four of them, spreading his arms to the side. “No one speak at once.”

“You’re a lot more impatient,” Kapono said. “I’m still thinking.”

Stiles snapped his fingers. “I’m scared of what might happen, which is making me impatient. This world might be sunshine and roses, but I’d rather not come face to face with her acting like a Nurse Ratchet original again,” he said, pointing at Julia. “It was terrifying enough the first time.”

“What happened?” Derek asked softly, glancing between Julia and Stiles. “My Emissary and I…we didn’t see what happened after you thought it was Gerard Argent.”

Stiles frowned. “How the fuck did you see that?”

“That requires a longer conversation,” Derek said, shaking his head. “I don’t even understand it. But what happened to Jules?”

Stiles glanced at the woman who was watching her with wide eyes, a pinched look around her mouth. He sighed. “What do you do when you come across a feral omega?”

Derek’s eyes closed as Julia moved closer, curling her hand through his elbow. “You?”

Stiles nodded, biting the inside of his lip. “Scott…he didn’t have any strength left at the end there, and he wouldn’t anyway. Lydia was screaming so much her throat was bleeding, and Kira was always too kind for the world she was in.”

Derek opened his eyes and stared at Stiles. “Thank you,” he said softly, pulling his arm out of Julia’s grip to wrap it around her shoulders.

Stiles shrugged one shoulder. “Don’t thank me, seriously don’t. I did what I had to do.”

“You’re different,” Kapono said, suddenly closer.

Stiles had to tilt his head way back to meet his eyes. “What gave it away? The time-traveling or the magic?”

Kapono grinned sharply. “You’re harder, Derek had a hard road, but he wasn’t like you.”

“That’s because Derek’s an optimist. I like to call myself a realist on a good day, and my good days ended right around the time I found Derek’s dead body and lost my Dad to a fucking harpy,” Stiles replied, meeting Kapono’s gaze evenly. “And my Dad was human. He just did what Dad’s do and tried to protect their kids.”

Kapono nodded once. “Fair. What happened to the harpy?”

Stiles smiled, and he knew it wasn’t kind. “Buried her alive with a lot of flesh-eating bugs.” He glanced around Kapono to look at Derek. “Did I ever tell you my favorite movie was The Mummy?”

“Thought it was Star Wars?” Derek asked.

Stiles shrugged a shoulder. “I’m allowed to have multiple favorites,” he explained before looking back at Kapono and pressing a finger against his chest. “You don’t scare me. You never will. I’ve seen shit you can’t even imagine. I’ve done shit that would give a nightmare nightmares.”

Kapono didn’t move back, but he raised an eyebrow and leaned down slightly. “Like I said, different.”

“What happened to the other Stiles,” Sai asked.

“He’s dead,” Stiles replied, looking around Kapono again. “And I am sorry for that. I thought I was going back to my own body, not stealing someone else’s. I don’t know what went wrong.”

Derek sighed and squeezed Julia once more before letting go. “The Goddess intervened most likely,” he said, jerking his head back to the car. “Come one. We can’t linger. It’ll look weird.”

“Like your Mom needs any more excuses to be a weirdo,” Stiles muttered.

“What’s she doing?”

“Not a fucking clue, but I don’t trust her,” Stiles said, looking down at the rune. “But, we can talk about it later, okay?”

Derek nodded. “Okay.”

Stiles scuffed out the mark on the floor, feeling the spell lift before he followed the others to the car, aware of the looks he was getting from Kapono and Sai.

---

“Jealous?”

Stiles turned his head to see Cora slide up next to him, Scott appearing on his other side a second later, the two of them pressing close. “Of?”

“The gorgeous brunette sitting real close to Derek,” Scott said, nodding towards where Julia was camped out next to Derek. She hadn’t left his side the entire time, and Stiles wanted to know if she was upset about what Stiles had said or if she was the best fighter in the bunch.

Julia might be right next to him, but the rest of his sisters, sans Cora, were arrayed around him, all of them talking a mile a minute. Grace hadn’t left his other side, glaring and flashing her eyes anytime someone else tried to pull her away. Stiles half expected her to bite the next person who tried to make her move.

Stiles shook his head and glanced to the side at Scott. “No, she’s been making cow eyes at Jenna the whole night, who has been making cow eyes right back at her.”

The two in question suddenly turned to look at him and glared. “Sorry, forgot about the hearing,” he apologized, waving a hand at them. He grimaced at Derek’s glare, but he could see the edge of a smile at his comment even as Jenna and Julia began to talk to each other a little more intently, bending their heads together.

“I am no longer solo dicking my friend,” Stiles continued. “I am now free to have an array of dicks.”

“Stiles!”

Stiles jerked as he heard his Dad’s voice cut across the noise. “You can’t hear what I said!” he yelled back, uncaring of the eyes on him.

“No, but I know what that look on Talia’s face meant,” his Dad yelled back, appearing through the crowd to glare at him. “Grounded.”

Stiles spread his arms wide. “Twenty-one.”

“And bumming under my roof. Grounded,” Noah said, shaking his head.

Stiles could hear the giggles from random people he didn’t know as he slumped back against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m blaming you,” he muttered, glaring at Cora before turning to Scott. “And what sort of best dude are you if you don’t take the blame.”

“One who is still trying to get into graduate school,” Scott said, wrapping an arm around Scott’s shoulders and hugging him tightly. “But don’t worry, I’ve got your back in a lot of other ways.”

“I’ve yet to see it. All I feel is the sword you held for me to collapse onto slowly,” Stiles said, pressing a hand against his chest and collapsing against Scott. “Can you feel my breath leave my body?”

“Oh, is that what that smell is?” Scott asked, laughing. “Have a mint, dude.”

Stiles stood up and opened his mouth but stopped as Talia stepped into the center of the room, everyone falling silent as she held up her hands.

“First, thank you all for coming,” Talia said, looking around the room. “To see so many joyous faces here ready to celebrate the alliance between our packs is a miracle. It tells me that everyone here wants the same thing, to have the peace we have enjoyed for so long extended by this alliance so that our families will always be safe.”

The room broke out in cheers, and Stiles joined, clapping and whistling along with everyone. He didn’t trust Talia, and he was still nervous, but he liked the idea of strength in numbers. A pack with strong alliances would be harder to kill than one that preferred to be alone.

Talia held up her hands again, smiling around the room. Stiles could see Derek in her face, in her smile and dark hair and expressive eyebrows, but there was a hardness to her that he didn’t see in Derek despite his life.

“And I want to take the time to personally welcome back Derek to Beacon Hills,” she said, turning and holding out her hands to Derek, who had frozen. “It’s been too long.”

Derek glanced at his Mom, the wariness on his face replaced by a smile Stiles hadn’t seen in a long time. It was the smile Derek gave people when he was being charming, but he wasn’t being sincere, and it was a marked difference from the one from moments before.

“It’s good to be back,” Derek said, wiggling his way out of his pile of sisters and pack members and standing up. “Thank you for the invitation,” he said, bowing slightly and showing his neck.

Talia stepped forward and took Derek’s hand in her own. “I’m thankful that someone reminded me of what is truly important because they were right. This would not be possible if you weren’t here.”

Stiles wanted to comment, but he kept quiet and watched the show for the moment. And it was a show. He might not know Talia Hale, but he knew Derek, and there was a tenseness to his shoulders that betrayed him. Stiles glanced around the room, finding Kapono and Sai watching intently with matching frowns in the corner.

“Thank you,” Derek replied. “I…it’s been amazing being back here and getting to see everyone. I missed you, all of you,” he said, turning and searching out each of his family members to smile brightly at them.

Stiles was slightly surprised when Derek smiled at him, and he managed to smile back, trying not to reach for the rowan stick he had stuck in his back pocket to settle his nerves. Derek looked back at his Mom and stepped closer.

“I’m excited to see where this alliance goes. I know I could use your advice, more often than not,” Derek said, with a rueful shrug that got a few chuckles. “I know I still have a lot to learn,” he said, looking around. “And I hope, if it is acceptable, to pick the brains of all of you because you’re all Alpha’s I aspire to be like. And I hope with this alliance I can learn a lot and grow.”

Stiles fought to keep his expression blank at the performance Derek and his Mother were putting on. Talia smiled at Derek and drew him into a hug that ended with Grace running up and wrapping her arms around Derek and Talia. A second later, Derek’s family surrounded him. Even Cora left the wall next to him, wiggling into the group hug. Applauses sounded, and Stiles joined, meeting Derek’s eyes over the top of his Mom’s head and did his best not to wince at the pain in his eyes.

Derek knew something was up, and Stiles wished the other man could live in a world where something wasn’t going wrong.

Part 5

June 19th, 2014

Stiles rubbed a hand over his face as he made his way downstairs, squinting against the sun that streamed into the kitchen as he stumbled over to the coffee maker. A steaming pot of coffee sat at the bottom, ready for Stiles. He made a happy noise, quickly filling a cup and wrapping his hands around the warmth. He turned, leaning back against the counter, and dropped his head, inhaling the aroma and waking up a little bit more at the promise of coffee.

He stilled, suddenly aware of more than one person shifting when his Dad should’ve been at work. He opened his eyes and glanced up, raising his eyebrows as he noticed Derek and the rest of his pack arrayed around the table and openly grinning at him.

“Morning,” he said, looking between the four of them.

“You awake yet, kid?” Kapono asked, looking bright-eyed with an arm slung over the back of Derek’s seat and holding his own cup of coffee.

“Yes,” he replied, taking a sip of the coffee, suddenly aware of how underdressed he was in a pair of old PJ pants and nothing else. Stiles was glad he hadn’t slept naked. He had always been worried he’d need to run outside in the middle of a fire, and the whole street would see his dick.

“You sure about that?” Derek asked.

“I will be,” Stiles replied, taking another sip. “What brings you into my humble abode. I’m kinda surprised you used the door, honestly. Thought you’d roll through my bedroom window again.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “We needed to talk,” he said, ignoring the rest of what Stiles said.

“It’s not me. It’s you?” Stiles replied, walking and sitting at the table, his hands still wrapped around the coffee.

“Can you…” Derek started before trailing off and pressing his finger against his lips.

Stiles stared blankly before his mind caught up, and he nodded. “Oh uh,” he said, looking around before holding out a hand. “Claw, please.”

Derek frowned but extended his hand, claws already out. Stiles quickly pricked his finger on the claw and drew the rune, dropping the silencing ward around them.

“So, you’re a witch,” Sai asked as soon as the ward dropped.

Stiles shook his head. “Deaton said I was a spark in the last go-round.”

“So, why the runes?” Sai asked, leaning in. “Sparks don’t need them.”

Stiles yawned, covering his mouth with the back of his hand after a second. “Not enough magic for me to do things by belief, gotta use the runes to help focus the magic.”

Stiles focused on his coffee and not whatever was happening between the four pack members. He knew they would be doing that silent judgmental eyebrow communication anyone who spent too long around a Hale ended up doing. Stiles had noticed Scott was doing it this time around. A hand on his arm drew his attention back to the room, and he looked up, seeing Derek leaning over the table and watching him intently.

“What?” he asked, frowning slightly.

“Stiles, the magic is fine here,” Derek said carefully. “As far as I know, it’s not dying. It’s not in danger, and it’s okay.”

Stiles stared at Derek, his mouth dropping open as he went over what the other man had said, his mind beginning to race with what Derek had told him. He shook his head after a second, closing his mouth and swallowing.

“Oh,” he said finally, looking down at his hands. He leaned back, pulling his arm away from Derek, and focused on his hands for a second, and he could feel the magic rise in his chest. The warmth that he had barely experienced back in his old world.

He watched as flames began to lick up the sides of his fingers before spreading over his palms, the fire dancing around like a campfire at night.

“Stiles,” Derek said in a strangled voice.

Stiles looked up, seeing Derek’s wide eyes, and he grimaced, closing his hands to put out the fire. “Sorry,” he said softly, clearing his throat. “I uh…sorry.”

Derek nodded. “I’m not usually that bad around fire, but your hands being on fire…” Derek trailed off and shuddered.

“I always had an affinity for fire,” Stiles explained, looking down and squeezing his hands. “Figured it was because people always told me to fight fire with fire, and the hunters were always ready to burn the world.”

“Well, that was exciting,” Kapono said cheerfully into the awkward silence. “I take it that doesn’t burn you?”

Stiles shook his head, looking down at his coffee and pressing his fingers against the side. “Not if I’m focusing,” he said softly, thinking about drawing the heat out of the cup, and he could feel the same pull in his chest before his coffee froze over fast enough it froze the bubbles along the edge.

He snatched his fingers back as the cold began to leech into his skin and shivered, staring at the cup. “Fuck,” he muttered, bracing an elbow on the table and pushing a hand into his hair, tugging as he stared.

“Maybe don’t go all in at once,” Kapono suggested. “Ease into it.”

Stiles shook his head. “Don’t have time. Derek’s Mom has got some bad juju going, and I need to be ready,” he muttered. “I know the runes for all of this, so it’s not like I don’t know what’s happening.”

“Well, maybe don’t burn down the house,” Derek said, reaching out and taking Stiles’s cup, switching it with his own, still warm. “Just a suggestion.

“We don’t need no water let the mother fucker burn,” Stiles muttered, still trying to make sense of a world where magic wasn’t dying. He felt like an idiot for not noticing. He had been so caught up in everyone being alive that he hadn’t stopped to think about what this world being alive meant. He wondered what else he had missed.

“I spent two years waking up, wondering what witch had kidnapped me when I woke up in my bedroom surrounded by my family,” Derek said softly. “I still look at them and can’t believe they’re alive. Some mornings I barely feel like I can get out of bed because I keep expecting the world to be empty and do not have a pack. It’s been sixteen years since I was with a woman, and I don’t think I could ever be again. Not between Kate and Julia. The trauma we went through won’t ever go away, even if this world feels perfect by comparison.”

Derek’s voice was soft, his hand a warm band on Stiles’s arm as he met the other man’s gaze. Stiles swallowed and nodded, looking out the window behind them where he could usually see his Dad’s car.

“I sort of think I’m dreaming,” he admitted softly. “My Dad’s alive. Scott is who I remember becoming friends with. Cora is nice, and the sun rises each day, and the air isn’t filled with ash.”

Derek’s hand squeezed his arm. “I’ll give you Lacie’s number. She’s a therapist we have back in Lost Cove. She knows when I came from, so I think she might be able to help you as well.”

“A therapist?” Stiles asked, looking up at Derek. “Really?”

Derek nodded. “Still can’t get up some mornings, but the rest of the time? I want to get out of bed. Trust me, I know my time in that world ended before things got as bad as they did for you, but I know what it was like. So, you’ll need it.”

“I’m sorry.” Stiles blurted out.

“For what?” Derek asked.

“It took us a week,” Stiles said quickly, the words falling from his mouth. “Well, me a week. Before we realized you were dead. And I went because I had a question about something, and I don’t even remember what the question was, but I showed up at your loft, and you were dead. Wolfsbane poisoning right through the heart.”

Derek leaned back into Kapono’s arm. “You said they caught Kate.”

Stiles nodded. “I…there was a bullet casing left on the ground, and the bullet was still in you. Dad tracked it back to Kate’s gun, and she had used it in a couple of other murders, so they got her. All neat and tidy, but it still took me a week to notice you had died, and I am so sorry.”

Derek took a breath and shook his head. “We weren’t frien—”

“Yes, we fucking were!” Stiles shouted, slamming a hand down on the table. “You might not have been my best friend, but I trusted you, I do trust you, and I knew you’d always have my back, and you’d come if needed you to, but it still took us a fucking week to notice that you had died!”

Stiles felt the shame beginning to build up and make him want to choke like he was spitting out the nogitsune again. He felt like he had miles of guilt and anger wrapped around his heart, and he’d never be able to pull it free.

“Stiles,” Derek repeated more carefully this time. Stiles realized he had tears running down his cheeks. He quickly wiped the back of his hand over his face, ignoring the way the rest of Derek’s pack adverted his gaze. “Stiles, look at me.”

It took a moment before he felt like he could meet Derek’s eyes, and he instantly wanted to look away. Derek’s face was open, looking at him intensely with a hand resting on the table between them, palm up and waiting for Stiles to reach out. Stiles looked down at the wide palm and tried to fit the pieces of this Derek together with the dead body he had found, slumped on the floor in a pool of blood with black dripping from his mouth. He wanted to wash that memory from his mind.

He reached out and took Derek’s hand.

“You were a kid,” Derek said softly, squeezing his hand. “In a shitty situation, in a shitty town with a lot of pressure. You’re right. We were friends. And I trust you as well. But don’t feel bad because you couldn’t come and see me every second. It was Thanksgiving, wasn’t it?”

Stiles nodded. “Yeah, should’ve invited you over. Maybe then you wouldn’t have died.”

Derek sighed. “First, I hate Thanksgiving. It was the week before Thanksgiving that my family died, and so that holiday will always remind me of the smell of them burning. So, I would’ve said no.”

Stiles sniffled. “And second?”

“In a weird way, I’m glad I died. Because it means I got my family back, and no matter what’s happening with my Mom, I know she wouldn’t hurt them. This Alliance will make sure they’re safe. The work I do is going to make sure of it. I get woken up to a hundred texts from my sisters in a group chat about some date or something someone said. My sisters call me every birthday, and I get homemade care packages from Peter. I’m sorry you had to find my body, but I can’t regret what happened when it gave me all this.”

Stiles thought about his Dad and the arm around his shoulders as Noah cheerfully laid out the terms of his grounding as they walked back to the car after the party. He sniffled, looking outside again, unable to meet Derek’s intense gaze as he thought back to the last few moments before he had woken up here.

“Heart blood of the last Alpha,” Stiles said softly. “Last scream of a banshee, the oldest tail of a kitsune, the last root from a dying nematon.”

“What?” Derek asked, confused.

“The ritual,” Stiles explained. “Water, air, fire, and earth. The representations of the four elements in their death. All burned by a hellhound. It’s how I came back.”

To Stiles’s surprise, Derek stood up, walked around, and pulled him out of the chair into a hug. Stiles was suddenly aware of how naked he was when he felt the brush of Derek’s cotton shirt against his skin, but he was warm, and he was there, and he knew what Stiles had been through. He slumped against the other man, pressing his forehead against Derek’s shoulder and shaking his head.

“They were all dead,” Stiles explained, feeling like he had been screaming for hours. “Scott had an asthma attack one night and just…didn’t wake up, and Lydia woke up screaming, and she died screaming. Kira collapsed next to Scott and closed her eyes, and gave up. It was like he was the lynchpin, and then it was me and Jordan, and I could feel the magic dying even faster, and I knew I needed to do something.

“There was an old ritual; I’d read about it, but it was so dangerous because if you did it wrong, you could rip the world apart, but the world was dying, and so I figured. What the hell? I…desecrated their fucking bodies, and I didn’t care because all I could picture was a world that hadn’t gone to shit. So, I did what I needed to do, went out to the nematon, and made the ritual circle I needed to do with bones of so many dead supernatural creatures and whatever plant I could find that would help.

“Toadflax, boneset, witches burr, agrimony, Solomon’s seal root, hyssop, bloodroot, rowan, whatever I could find, and then I dug. And I kept digging until I found one fucking root that was still alive, and it was so tiny and shriveled it looked like someone had poured salt onto a slug and buried it to try and make it live again. But it had power, a last little flickering flame, and I stole its power. I stole Scott’s power, and I stole Lydia’s power and Kira’s power, and I filled myself with so much magic and death that I could feel it splitting my skin apart, and then I sat in the middle of the circle and had Jordan set me on fire knowing it’d burn him as well.”

Stiles could feel the tears streaming down his face as he stared at Derek, but he couldn’t see him. All he could see was the worn look on Jordan’s face, the way the man hadn’t even put up a token amount of protest at Stiles’s actions. Jordan had followed along and helped him, the last two in a pack that had died a long time ago.

“It hurt so much, but it didn’t at the same time. I could feel the fire cracking my skin, but then I could feel the magic pouring out of me, the ground shaking and the earth beginning to thunder underneath me, and I could feel it swallowing me up, and then I was here, and a voice told me ‘help him’ and then…” Stiles trailed off and shook his head. “And then Scott was calling me because his asthma was acting up, asking me to take him to work of all things.”

Derek’s arms were tight around him, hands curled into fists against his bare skin, and Stiles wanted to sink against the other man because out of all the horror he could feel in the room, he knew that Derek understood what he had done. He knew what the world had been like, and out of all of them, Derek was the only one who could give Stiles the forgiveness he wanted for stealing the last threads of magic left in a dead world to throw him back in time to try again.

“Stiles,” Derek said, his voice tight, but he stopped there, clearly at a loss for words. “You did what you had to do, and if the world was that bad, you did it for the right reasons. You didn’t go back in time for power or revenge. You did it because the world was dying, and it was the only way to try and fix things. No one can judge you for the actions you took.”

Stiles shook his head. “I killed this Stiles. I took his body and cast his soul somewhere.”

Derek sighed. “I liked this Stiles, I did. He was a good kid, he was sarcastic, yes, but he was kind and always did his best to help people. And he believed in the best of everyone. The world hadn’t dragged him down yet, and I like to think I know him pretty well, and I don’t think he’d mind if it meant you were doing the right thing.”

“Well, I am a Stiles, and I would mind,” Stiles snapped.

“Would you?”

Derek’s voice was soft as he took a step back, resting his hands on Stiles’s shoulders and squeezing. Stiles missed the warmth as he crossed his arms across his chest, wondering how he could feel cold in summer.

“Stiles, would you mind?” Derek repeated when Stiles didn’t answer.

Stiles sighed, turning his head to look out the window, ignoring the rest of Derek’s pack, not ready to deal with them when he felt so raw. “No. I don’t want it to happen because I happen to like being alive, but if someone was doing it for the right reasons, then no. I wouldn’t.”

The hands-on his shoulders squeezed lightly. “Stop beating yourself up for trying to save your family.”

Stiles snorted. “Easier said than done,” he said, scrubbing both hands over his face and glancing up at Derek, seeing the deep frown and the tightness around his mouth. “I’m fine.”

“Sure,” Derek said, rolling his eyes slightly. “And I’m a bunny rabbit.”

“Got the teeth for them,” Stiles said, feeling wrung out but slightly better.

He had told Derek what he had done. The Derek that had his family, a pack that clearly loved and respected him despite knowing that it wasn’t his first go-round. This Derek seemed settled in a way that Stiles still didn’t quite grasp. The easy smiles, the looseness about him, and the ease at which he moved. Physically, he looked the same, but the muscle and the way he held himself spoke to a life spent working hard instead of a constant need to be on the lookout for someone to stab him in the back.

It suited Derek, the same way the easy smiles suited him.

“I’m…I’m going to go get dressed,” Stiles said, feeling exposed and hating it. “Talk…amongst yourselves while I do.”

Stiles turned and fled up the stairs to the sanctuary of his bedroom with a door that locked. He leaned against the door, dropping his head and inhaling deeply, trying not to let the panic that threatened to overtake him win. The last thing he needed was a house full of werewolves to hear him having a panic attack.

“Right, plan. Dressed, teeth, figure out why they’re here, food, wallow in self-loathing under the bedcovers,” Stiles muttered, forcing himself to take one step forward and then another.

---

He made it downstairs, dressed and feeling better with the minty fresh sensation in his mouth instead of coffee and bad memories that tasted like salt. The scene hadn’t changed much, except Julia was sliding something onto a plate, which she handed over to Stiles as soon as he stepped close enough. He took it automatically, looking down at the hashbrown, bacon, and eggs, before looking back up.

“I cook at the diner in town,” she explained, handing him a fork and pushing at his shoulder. “Go eat.”

“Why?” Stiles asked, sitting down and staring at the plate again.

“Why what?”

“Why the food?” he asked. “Diner?”

“Because you needed food because it’s morning, and you’re in shock,” Julia explained, giving him another cup of steaming coffee. “And I like cooking. Everyone else eats what I cook.”

“That’s not how a diner works,” Stiles said, cutting into the eggs and seeing the yolk spill out across the firm whites. Perfect.

“It’s how my diner works. I cook what I want to cook, and people either eat it and smile, or they make their own dinner,” Julia replied with a wide smile, sitting down next to Sai, who was helping Kapono bracket Derek.

“Oh,” Stiles said, beginning to eat, quickly shoving the food into his mouth.

“Chew,” Derek chided, his nose wrinkling in disgust.

“S’good,” Stiles replied, swallowing the mouthful and grabbing his coffee to take a large sip, hissing at the heat but taking another quick gulp. “Real good.”

“Our Julia is the best chef in Lost Cove,” Kapono said, shooting her a grin. “Not a hard standard, mind you. It’s a lot of meat and veg out there. Stuff we grow ourselves, but she always makes it taste a little bit different.”

“Grow your own stuff?” Stiles asked, crunching on a piece of bacon that was perfect.

“Lost Cove is a sanctuary,” Derek explained. “You can only find it if you’re looking, and you hold no ill intent. It’s isolated, so we have to grow most of our own food and raise our own meat.”

“So, it’s a hippie commune…with meat,” Stiles asked, scraping the tines of his fork across the plate to get the last few pieces.

“Of sorts, yes,” Derek replied. “A little easier because I have a large pack, and we’re all strong, so we can do the work faster.”

“Helps that Noora is good with animals,” Sai said, leaning back in the chair. “Keeps them calm around the wolves.”

“Noora?”

“Witch, kinda. She’s Indian, both of the Native American kind and Asian kind,” Sai explained. “She ain’t a true witch, but she’s got away with animals that ain’t natural. They always calm down around her. She’s the town butcher.”

“Seems a bit unfair,” Stiles said. “It’s like Snow White if she ate the animals that helped her clean the place.”

Sai chuckled. “Yeah, sounds about right. But we use everything, and we take care of ‘em. Noora would butcher us if one of us mistreated her herd.”

“What else do you have there?”

“A banshee, couple druids passing through, lots of wolves, and a couple of different shifters. Got an earth kitsune, and there’s a fire kitsune moving our way. Don’t know if they’re gonna pass by or not,” Derek explained. “Couple sparks, a few humans in the know and a few things here and there that we don’t know, but they don’t mean any harm, so no one minds not knowing.”

Stiles tried to imagine the town they were talking about, the small-town feel with nothing but all sorts of supernatural creatures. “Sounds… interesting, actually,” he said.

“It’s a town with some people, who happen to be supernatural in one form or another,” Derek said, shrugging. “No different than other places, I suppose.”

“Except the ratio,” Stiles said, finishing the last of his meal, feeling better. The shaky feeling was gone, and he felt more relaxed. “You’ve got a couple more not humans than you do here.”

Derek inclined his head. “Fair.”

Stiles leaned back in the chair, holding the cup of coffee close as he took a few deep breaths. “Right, so, back to the original question before my meltdown. What brings you here?”

“At least you didn’t strip naked and run into the woods,” Kapono said, elbowing Derek.

Derek sighed and leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the table. “You were right,” he said softly, keeping his eyes on the table. “Mo…Talia’s up to something.”

“You can still call her Mom,” Sai said, dropping an arm around Derek’s shoulder and squeezing.

Derek shook his head. “I remember my Mom, the one who loved me and did anything she could to save me. This…this isn’t the same one, and I want to remember my Mom.”

Sai sighed but didn’t comment, keeping his arm around Derek’s shoulder with an ease that made Stiles’ eyebrows raise, but he didn’t ask. Instead, he looked back at Derek, who lifted his head and met Stiles’ gaze.

“The solstice is the day after tomorrow. Do you have any idea what she’s up to?” Derek asked.

Stiles shook his head. “No. There might not be anything at all. You know that, right? This might be a front she’s putting on for the other packs.”

Derek nodded. “But you don’t think it’s that, do you?”

Stiles thought for a second. “No, maybe? If I hadn’t seen her with Deaton with some frankly weird herb choices considering she said it was for dinner.”

“Herb choices?” Kapono asked.

Stiles nodded. “When I ran into them, they were carrying bloodroot, boneset, and wolfsbane.”

“What does that mean?”

Julia cleared her throat. “You mentioned bloodroot and boneset before in your ritual.”

Stiles nodded. “Bloodroot is a love-based protection root. It can aid in protection in the right spells. Boneset is an exorcism herb used a lot by the Catholic church back in the day when they didn’t try to be as anti-pagan as they are today. It’s also a protection herb, can be used to ward off evil spirits.”

Stiles stopped and looked at Derek. “If I knew what I know now, I would’ve protected myself from the nogitsune. It wouldn’t have had the chance to possess me,” he explained. “Or anyone.”

“What…what would they be doing with those and wolfsbane?” Derek asked after a second.

“See, it could be benign. They’re protection herbs and used right, they can protect a pack, which would be good for an alliance. But there are secondary uses if you know what you’re doing. Boneset is for exorcism; bloodroot is for purification. But there’s a lot of different options out there that would be better choices.”

“Such as?”

“Rowan and willow come to mind immediately, especially since willow works best with lunar magics, which means it would be the best bet for protecting a werewolf pack,” Stiles explained. “Hyssop, marshmallow root. If they don’t have goldenseal, I’ll be surprised. It’s good for deals. If they could get their hands on some true dragons blood, we’d be golden, but that shit is hard to find. Well, it was. Maybe it’s easier now.”

“Dragons blood?” Derek demanded; his eyes wide.

“Not like, argh dragon, it’s from a genus of plants. Palms mostly, they can create a red resin with it used in a lot of things. The one you want is from Dracaena draco, but those are native to Morocco and the Canary Islands and, like I said, hard to find.”

“Okay, so they got the bad juju herbs,” Sai said, shaking his head. “Or maybe they liked those?”

Stiles shrugged. “Maybe. I always liked using hyssop because I think it’s fun to say. Plants are good for magic, especially if grown in the ground. They all have a spark of earth magic in them.”

Derek sighed. “Is there any way to find out?”

Stiles shook his head. “No, not unless we know the exact ritual they’re using. As I said, there’s so much cross-over between plant usage, and that doesn’t even count the rituals. It’s not like there’s one ritual for one thing. There’s multiple depending on where you learned and what you believe in. A druid will do something different than a witch, and a spark will do it differently. You said you had a friend who’s both Indian and Native American? Those two communities have strong ties to magic, and it’s different magic, and then that magic is different depending on which tribes she’s descended from and which part of India she is from.”

Derek slumped in his seat. “So, there’s no way to know.”

“Not until I hear what the intent is. Rituals might sound complicated, but that’s only the setup. The ritualistic words are simple because channeling that much power and focus and trying to say the right words is hard. The last thing you want to do is say the wrong thing, and the magic backfires,” Stiles explained, tapping his fingers on the table and chewing his lip. “Can you ask your Emissary? Maybe they might notice something brewing through the pack bond.”

Derek nodded. “I’ll give them a call, see if they know anything. If not, they can ask around. If we had more time, I’m sure we could trace things easier.”

“Well yeah, if we had more than a few days, I could call people and see what Deaton’s been buying to narrow it down. See who he’s been talking to or not talking to as well. There are too many packs for balance, and I doubt she’s about to kill your entire family. There’s no trouble as far as I know,” Stiles murmured before he sighed and looked up at the other man, thinking back to what the crones said. “There’s a storm coming, Derek, and I don’t know how to get ahead of it.”

“What did you say?” Derek asked, face going white.

“Uh,” Stiles said, a little surprised at the reaction. “Doubt she’s gonna kill your family, too many—”

“No, about the storm.”

“There’s a storm coming, and I don’t know how to get ahead of it,” Stiles repeated. “What?”

Derek closed his eyes and leaned back. “When I was a teenager, I ran into you in the woods or the other Stiles. He had gotten lost running away from the hospital because his Mom was sick. I helped him back, and a few days later, his Mom brought him by the library, and she thanked me, but in the middle of thanking me, she uh…”

Stiles knew he was leaning forward, desperate for any morsel of anything about his mother. No matter how big or small it was. He wanted to know. He wanted to know every memory, every scrap, every single word someone else might know about his mother and keep it close to his heart so that he could have more of her to remember.

“She what?” he demanded, daring Derek not to finish.

Derek sighed and looked up at him. “Her face went blank, and she told me a storm was coming, and I couldn’t get ahead of it in my time, but this time I might be able to. And that I needed to trust my spark. And then she went back to normal as if nothing had happened.”

Stiles leaned back in his chair, reeling from the implications. “My Mom had magic?” he asked softly, rubbing knuckles over his breastbone where he knew his magic sat.

Derek shrugged. “Or at least the ability to See. If she ever did something else, I didn’t know about it.”

“I’ve always had little…insights,” Stiles said slowly. “Since I started using my magic more and more. I’d get flashes, but I never knew if they were real flashes or my imagination.”

“Could be both,” Derek said. “I don’t know much more about your Mom than that. She died soon after.”

Stiles pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew he had gotten magic from somewhere, but he had never been able to pinpoint it. His Dad was null, and as far as he could tell, no one else had magic either, but it seemed he was wrong. Apparently, his Mom had had some magic, enough to tell Derek some sort of warning but not enough to save herself.

“And I said the same thing,” Stiles said, looking at Derek. “Except I’m not your spark. Yours is back in Lost Cove.”

“They’ll be here if we need them,” Sai said, sounding so sure that Stiles felt his own doubt suddenly wash away.

“But I’m still not your spark,” Stiles repeated.

Derek shrugged a shoulder. “Maybe, but you’re here and…honestly. Maybe that’s it. I thought the storm was Kate, and I killed her, so I thought it had passed. But maybe whatever’s happening with my Mom is going to set into motion something else. Maybe that’s another storm.”

“So, she’s not the problem, but something else?”

“Aren’t we talking in circles?” Kapono asked suddenly. “We don’t know, and we won’t know until the solstice because we don’t have time. So instead of figuring out what we don’t know, is there anything we can do to prepare?”

All eyes turned to Stiles, and he rolled his eyes. “You’re all super strong, and you’re looking at me? Look at me! I’m a green onion with dreams of being a full onion.”

Derek snorted. “Don’t sell yourself short, kid. You’re at least a cucumber.”

“Are you calling me a dick?” Stiles asked. “And don’t call me kid.”

“Sorry,” Derek said, waving a hand. “But Kapono is right. Is there anything you can do? I can fight, but magic? I can’t do anything with that, not the big stuff.”

Stiles sighed. “I’ll figure something out. Like I always do, coming in to rescue the world at the last minute.”

Part 6

June 21st, 2014

Stiles could feel his nerves growing as his Dad drove him, Scott, and Melissa to the coordinates Talia had given them. It was a little way out of town, and then there’d be a short hike to get to where they needed to go, deep in the woods.

“Everyone got their anti-ax murderer pants on?” Stiles asked, glancing up as the trees began to thicken overhead.

“No one’s gonna get murdered,” Noah said, turning down a dirt road. “Not unless you’ve got some plans you haven’t told me about.”

“No plans to kill anyone, yet,” Stiles replied cheerfully.

“Well, give me some warning so I can come up with an alibi for you,” Noah said absently, parking next to other cars.

“Aww, Daddio, you’re gonna help me get away with murder?” Stiles asked, pressing a hand over his chest. “That’s so sweet. Father of the year award right there.”

“Honestly, knowing you they’ll probably deserve it. And besides, it’ll be hell on my reelection chances if my kid gets done in for murder.”

“Oh, how the power corrupts,” Stiles said, stretching when he got out of the car before feeling for the rowan stick in his back pocket. He hoped he wouldn’t need it.

“Would I look good with a mustache?” Noah asked, rubbing a hand over his upper lip.

“No!”

“I think we should leave weird facial hair to Stiles, Mr. Stilinski,” Scott chipped in, grinning as he dropped an arm over Stiles’s shoulders. “I don’t think any of us could forget the soul patch.”

“I was young and dumb, don’t judge me,” he muttered, following his Dad and Melissa into the woods, wiggling his shoulders until Scott’s arm dropped off.

“Remember your inhaler?” Melissa asked as the trail began to slope upwards.

“Yeah, Mom,” Scott said, tapping his pocket with his free hand. “Never leave home without it.”

Melissa nodded and drew Noah into a conversation as they walked, completely relaxed. Stiles wanted to relax as if he actually was out on a nice nature walk with his family, heading towards an alliance, but all he could think about was the storm on the horizon. He wanted to know more, and the holding pattern for the last 48 had been hard, his mind unable to settle down.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Scott asked, breaking Stiles’ concentration.

“Just wondering what’s gonna happen, is all,” Stiles said. “You know I don’t like not knowing things.”

“I know you’re a dog with a bone when you want to know something,” Scott said cheerfully. “It’s Alpha Hale and Dr. Deaton. I don’t think anything’s gonna happen.”

Stiles smiled, wishing he had Scott’s faith in the people around him. “I know, but you know how my mind works.”

“Sucks to be you,” Scott replied as they broke through the tree line into the clearing.

Stiles stopped, staring with wide eyes over the field of hyssop he could see, at odds with its surroundings. The sun had set, and the only light was the raging bonfire in the middle. The various packs stood around the bonfire where they hadn’t planted the hyssop, spacing them apart, but the conversation still flowed.

“Wow, this is gorgeous,” Melissa breathed, smiling before inhaling. “It smells sweet.”

Stiles inhaled as well, swallowing against the tightness in his throat at the memories of the ritual he had performed, sitting on a bed of hyssop that burned sweet as he died.

“Certainly sets a mood,” Noah said, raising an eyebrow at Stiles.

Stiles shrugged one shoulder, spotting Cora and the rest of the pack, and nodded towards them. “We should uh…join, yeah?” he said, stepping in that direction.

Scott grinned and charged ahead, raising both hands to wave dramatically at Cora, who waved back the same way. Stiles followed, glancing around and spotting Derek standing close with his three pack members, their arms brushing each other every time they moved. Derek raised his eyebrow, and Stiles shook his head. He still didn’t know what was going to happen. He doubted he would until they were in the thick of it.

“This is amazing!” Cora said as soon as Stiles and Scott got closer. “None of us had any idea Mom had done this. Not even Jenna knew!”

Stiles stopped by Cora and glanced at Jenna, who had crossed arms and a familiar scowl on her face. “Why’s she mad?”

Cora tilted her head and listened for a second. “Invasive species. She’s been no fun since she became a park ranger.”

“Just because I don’t think we should destroy the natural biome of the area for something pretty doesn’t mean I’m not fun,” Jenna snapped.

“No fun Jen!” Cora replied, sticking her tongue out when Jenna flipped her off.

“Are we missing some people?” he asked, glancing around.

“Paige is keeping Vanessa company. She is way too pregnant to be here,” Cora said, patting her stomach. “She’s ready to pop. I think Peter’s about to pop from the stress.”

Stiles felt arms lift him. “Oh, fuck!” he said, struggling against whoever held him.

“Hey!” a bright voice said.

Stiles turned, spotting familiar curls, and he relaxed. “Rude,” he snapped, glaring at Isaac, turning his head more to find Boyd holding him. “Gonna let me down?”

Boyd squeezed him one more time before letting him drop. Stiles stumbled, stopping when Isaac wrapped him up in another hug, squeezing him even tighter.

“Fragile human here!” he gasped, wiggling again. “When the fuck did you get so strong?”

“Right, right,” Isaac said, letting him go with a clap on the shoulder. “Forgot. Cora told us you didn’t want to take the bite. We got it the day we got back; Talia wanted to make sure we were part of the pack for this.”

“Yeah, it’s been interesting, but it’s good,” Boyd said, dropping an arm around Stiles’s shoulder and leaning against him. “Don’t know why you wouldn’t want to.”

“I like my eyebrows,” Stiles replied dryly. “I want to keep them.”

He got four identical looks, and he shrugged as best as he could with the weight of Boyd’s arm. It was hard to see him and Isaac smiling and relaxed and not picture them at the end.

“How was the trip?” he asked, glancing between them. “Become one with your inner Canadian? Did you lose a fight against a goose? Where’s my maple syrup?”

“No, yes, and at home,” Boyd replied, ruffling Stiles’s hair before dropping his arm around Isaac’s shoulder and kissing the top of his head. “I brought you a lot, don’t worry. I know you drink that like it’s water.”

“There is nothing wrong with having a good maple syrup,” Stiles said, jerking his chin up in defiance. “Just because you’re all plebians who don’t understand the correct maple to syrup ratio doesn’t mean you can judge me.”

“Only Canada can judge you,” Scott said solemnly. “And your waistband.”

“Fuck you,” Stiles replied without heat.

“No thanks, you’re not my type,” Scott replied, shaking his head.

“I’m everyone’s type,” Stiles said before he grimaced and held up a hand. “Nope, I heard that. That doesn’t need a response.”

“Oh, but you’re gonna get one,” Cora said with a grin. “I didn’t realize Jackson had taken over your body.”

“It’s the hair,” Isaac said. “He’s got the same…swoop to it that Jackson used to have.”

“Well, then we know it’s Stiles,” Boyd joined in. “Because he’s fashionably five years late.”

“But the ego,” Cora said, pressing a hand against her heart. “Maybe we should check, just in case. If that’s you’re in there, Stiles, blink twice if you’re a prisoner.”

Stiles blinked once and then flipped them off. “I hate all of you.”

“Sounds like a lie, doesn’t it, babe?” Isaac asked, wrapping his arm around Boyd’s waist.

“Mmhmm, Cora?”

“It does. But who knows, this is a brand-new Stiles who doesn’t have a crush on Derek, so who knows what he is like anymore.”

Stiles glared at her. “I’m going to find a way to see your brother naked and then describe his dick to you, in detail.

“Stiles!”

Derek’s voice rang across the clearing, and Stiles winced, waving an apologetic hand at Derek, who was bright red, bracing Kapono, who was bent over laughing.

“I’d add a coup—”

An arm dropped around his shoulders, and a hand clamped over his mouth, muffling what would come out next. He turned his head, seeing his Dad shaking his head.

“If I believed in God, then I know he would be testing me right now,” Noah said. “But I don’t, so please, please, do me a favor and don’t get yourself excommunicated from the pack on the night we are supposed to build an alliance.”

“Sorry,” Stiles said, muffled by his Dad’s palm as everyone laughed.

A throat clearing stopped all the chatter, and Noah’s hand dropped away from his face as they turned, spotting Talia in the center, Deaton next to her. She was smiling, content to wait for everyone to settle down.

“Welcome, everyone!” she said, holding her hands in the air. “I am so grateful that you’re here and that you’ve chosen to join this alliance with each other. This alliance is not a straight line, but much like the circle we are standing in, we are here for each other, regardless of how we came to stand here.”

People cheered and clapped, and a few people howled. Talia laughed. It sounded happy, similar to Derek’s, and different from before. This one sounded real. Stiles wondered if she had been stressed with planning this and all of this was for naught.

He hoped so.

“Thank you, also, for allowing my Emissary the honor of creating the binding that will ally these packs together. I know what it is to trust those of magic with a bond,” Talia continued. “I know we’re all excited for the best part of the night, the food,” she said, grinning when a few people cheered before she clapped her hand, “so let’s begin!”

“Talia was gracious enough to allow me to grow this field on Hale territory. Hyssop is a beloved herb in Druid history. It has had many uses throughout history, from the bible to native magicks. It is known to purify and cleanse the soul and the air around the body, to wash away ill intent, so we have nothing but good energy moving forward,” Deaton said, stepping forward as Talia joined the pack. He had the same bullshit enigmatic smile that made Stiles want to punch him in the face.

Stiles fought to keep from rolling his eyes because he could see how much everyone believed it. He wanted to believe it. He just didn’t believe Deaton. He hadn’t hated the other man, but when the going got tough, Deaton got going, and Stiles would never forget being seventeen years old with no information he needed and stumbling through situations.

Deaton raised his hands again, and Stiles could see a bag in each hand. “By choosing to show up, each of you has already dedicated your commitment to this alliance, and we cannot thank you enough for it. With your help, this alliance will achieve power that no one has ever dreamed of.” Deaton nodded around the circle. “We stand at the points of a faery star, each of us connected to each other in many ways. Through family, friendship, hardship, death, pain, anger, or love. Regardless of the intention, here we stand.”

Deaton dropped the bag in his right hand, and flames sprung up, running through the hyssop and lighting a trail none of them had seen before. It flashed brightly before it faded, leaving an acrid taste in its aftermath. Stiles sneezed a couple of times, shaking his head as the smoke settled, pushed away by the slight breeze. He could see the seven-point star, each pack in a point with the bonfire in the middle.

“We are surrounded by air, standing on the Earth, connected by fire,” Deaton said, nodding to each of the seven packs. “And with water, we will bind together.”

One by one, the Alphas cut their fingers and let a drop of blood fall. Stiles could feel the magic rising in the air; he could see the wisps of power that were slowly beginning to form in the air before they disappeared. The clearing lit up with noise as the Alpha’s threw their heads back and howled, everyone else joining in.

Stiles whistled but didn’t look away from Deaton, who started to mutter, the other satchel still held high in the air. The howling faded, and laughter broke out, people calling out to others with questions. Stiles could feel the magic, but he wasn’t bound to the pack, so he couldn’t feel what they felt.

“Thank you all,” Talia said, stepping out of the point, back into the middle with a smile.

Deaton dropped his other hand, the bag bursting onto the line and ash flowing out in a swirl before it dropped, magic slamming down.

“Thank you all,” Talia repeated. “And to the five packs which have joined me in good faith, I am glad you are here to witness as we right an old wrong.”

The joy faded as people began to shift nervously.

“Tals, what are you doing?” a woman with Derek’s eyes stepped forward, slamming to a halt as she met a barrier. Her eyes flashed red as she slammed a hand against the invisible shield. “Talia!”

“It will be fine, Eliza, I promise,” Talia said, clasping her hands pleadingly. The other Alphas began to shuffle, a few stepping forward and slamming against invisible barriers.

“You said five packs with you. That’s six, but there’s seven here,” Stiles said, afraid of the answer.

Talia smiled at him. “Always a smart one. You would make a fine wolf.”

“Eh,” Stiles replied, shoving his hands into his back pockets as he tried to get ahead of what was happening.

Talia shook her head and turned towards Derek, who now had a resigned look. But he didn’t look surprised.

“What did I do this time?” Derek asked into the sudden silence.

“You are not my son!” Talia roared, eyes flashing red as she stepped forward, her anger visible. “And whatever you are will leave him! And bring me back my son!”

“Oh, for fucks sake, Talia, not this again,” Eliza snapped, scowling. “We went through this. That’s Derek. We know that’s Derek; Deaton knows that’s Derek.”

“The myth of the true Alpha is simply a myth,” Deaton spoke up, spreading his hands to the side and looking mournful. “I misspoke back then, and I am sorry for the pain it had caused. Whatever took Derek’s body is a parasite and needs to be cast out.”

Derek pinched the bridge of his nose. “I am Derek, I have always been Derek, and this is me,” he said, dropping his hand and looking at Talia in disappointment. “The only person here who has committed a wrong is you, Mom.”

Talia stepped back. “Do not call me that. I am not your Mother.”

“Pretty sure you are,” Derek snapped back, crossing his arms over his chest. “What exactly is your plan here? Because right now, I see you kidnapping a lot of people.”

Stiles glanced around the clearing again, seeing people trying to call others on their phones. He pulled his out, looked down at it, saw the lack of service, and sighed. “Fucking nature,” he muttered, looking back up as Talia spoke again.

“Derek, honey, if you can hear me in there. I promise we will get you out,” Talia said, staring straight at Derek.

“Well, she’s gone crazy,” Stiles said, not bothering to keep his voice down.

Talia whirled to face him. “I am not crazy!” she snapped, taking a step towards them, baring her teeth.

Stiles snarled back, knowing it was less impressive without fangs, but it made her stop anyway.

“Talia, honey,” Richard said suddenly, stepping forward, his hands pressed against the shield. “Look at me, please. We can get you help.”

“Richard, I am not crazy. That is not our son!” Talia snapped, pointing at Derek. “Our son would never have killed anyone!”

“Ennis had lost his mind to the moon,” Richard said softly. “He attacked an innocent girl for no reason. Derek survived against him somehow, and that is a miracle.”

Stiles glanced towards his own Dad, seeing his hand twitching by his side, looking for his gun. Noah noticed him looking and shook his head, raising an eyebrow at Stiles, who shrugged. Right now, they were hostages. Stiles knew he could break the mountain ash lines if needed, but he didn’t know if they could reason with Talia. And from the looks of the Alphas, they didn’t care if she could be reasoned with. He didn’t want bloodshed.

“Derek killed Ennis and he killed that Hunter and he showed no remorse. His eyes would be blue if he were a beta,” Talia said, looking frantic now.

“She was going to burn our family alive! She’s burned other families!” Derek roared, his patience finally gone as he slammed a hand against the barrier. “I did what had to be done to protect this family!”

“I am the Alpha!” Talia said, taking a step forward. “It is my job to protect my family.”

“Kidnappings a good start,” Scott muttered.

Stiles bit his cheek to keep from laughing. Cora grabbed his arm, and Stiles turned in the direction she was looking, spotting Deaton carrying a bundle of flowers to the fire.

“Is that fucking angelica are you kidding me?” Stiles yelled, trying to be heard over everyone else. “This isn’t a supernatural episode; he’s not possessed by a demon!”

Deaton dropped the bundle into the bonfire, smoke filling the clearing. “For someone so smart, it is sad that this demon’s foul presence has also blinded you.”

“What exactly are you going to do when it doesn’t work?”

Deaton glanced over his shoulder. “We will remove the soul controlling Derek’s body so that Derek’s soul can regain control.”

Stiles felt his mouth drop open as he stared at Deaton. “You…that…you can’t do that!” he yelled, causing a hush to fall. “Derek isn’t possessed! All you’re going to do is rip his fucking soul out of his body! You’re going to kill him!”

“Better for my son to die and be at peace than to live in pain as his body is controlled,” Talia snapped, slashing a hand in the air before Stiles could reply. “Enough! There is nothing you can do!”

Stiles scoffed and stepped over the line, flipping her off. “Not a werewolf, dumbass,” he said, stepping back over it quickly when Talia lunged, smiling when she hit the barrier. “There’s a lot I can do.”

Talia snarled. “Alan! Start!”

Deaton nodded and dropped something else into the fire. Stiles ignored everyone and tilted his head back, sniffing.

“Sandlewood,” he murmured, reaching up and picking a fleck of ash off his shoulder, rubbing it between his fingers. “And I think this is birch.”

Stiles looked up, seeing the triumphant look on Talia’s as she looked at Derek. Derek was arguing with Kapono over something as Julia paced the shield, her eyes flashing. Stiles looked down at his hand, trying to focus and figure out what exactly Deaton was doing. But this wasn’t the sort of magic Stiles had avoided. He wanted to go back in time, not rip his soul out.

“Stiles,” Noah asked, gripping his shoulder. “Do you know what’s going to happen?”

Stiles glanced at his Dad, seeing how his eyes kept darting around, calmly assessing the situation. Stiles shook his head. “No,” he said softly, crouching down and sweeping a hand over the ash line on the ground, grimacing when it didn’t move.

“We’ve burned and buried it, so you can’t break it easily,” Deaton explained.

“Oh good, we live in California. It rains so much here. Really glad for the fire,” Stiles muttered, digging and finding the mountain ash roots. “Motherfuckers.”

He looked up as Talia crouched down. “Do you think it would be so easy?” she asked softly. “I’ve been trying to get my son back for ten years.”

Stiles met her gaze steadily. “The worst thing about this is that you’ve got a son who is kind, brilliant, and a good Alpha, and you refuse to see him because you can’t fathom the idea that he’s better than you.”

“So much belief for a person who never wanted you,” Talia said, a look of sadness on her face. “That must sting.”

“If he doesn’t want me, that is his choice. Unlike some of us, I respect people’s choices,” Stiles replied. “You’re destroying your family for no reason, and you can’t even see it.”

“They will understand when I am right,” Talia said, standing up.

Stiles stood, dismissing Talia with a wave as he looked at Deaton, who had his hands stretched towards the fire as he chanted softly. He turned, looking for Derek, and saw the defeated look on his face. Stiles watched as Sai slowly back up towards the far end of their point until the other man turned and broke into a fast run, faster than Stiles had expected.

Talia roared and made as if to follow him but then screams filled the air. Stiles turned, watching as the Hale wolves collapsed to the ground, screaming. He watched as, one by one, the other packs dropped to the ground, the screams blocking out any other sound.

He looked for Derek’s pack. They were the only ones standing, but they were pressed against the shield, hands banging, trying to get out. Derek’s eyes were red, darker than Stiles remembered, and his hands were curled into claws, trying to rip the shield apart. Stiles dropped to his knees, grabbing for Cora.

“What is it?” he demanded. “Where does it hurt?”

“Everywhere,” Cora ground out, tears streaming from her eyes before she gasped and pressed her hands over her chest. “My heart, he’s taking my heart!”

Something began to glow behind her hands, and Stiles’s eyes widened as he watched it get brighter. He turned, looking at Talia, who had tears in her eyes.

“Stop this!” Stiles snapped. “You’re killing them!”

Talia shook her head. “They’ll live. They’re strong. But we need the power.”

Stiles looked up and saw the lights beginning to move towards Deaton, who had started to glow. “Oh no, you fucking don’t,” Stiles snarled, standing up and running before he could think.

Talia leaped up, aiming to block him, but she moved towards Deaton as Stiles ran towards Derek. It was enough of a break that Stiles skidded into Derek a second before Talia slammed against the barrier, snarling. Stiles ignored her and turned towards Derek, seeing the fear in his eyes at the thought of losing his family a second time.

“I am so sorry, but this is going to suck, and I am sorry for your emissary, but I will fix it. Say yes, please,” Stiles got out in a rush, his mind running on instinct as he pulled together little bits and pieces of information he had gotten through his research. “Trust me.”

“Yes.”

Stiles slammed his hands on Derek’s chest and closed his eyes, ignoring the screams as he reached for his magic. He could feel the bonds Derek had, so strong and so many of them bolstering him, and Stiles could feel the love and trust flowing over the bond, a stark difference from the thin line he had forced between him and Scott.

“I’m sorry,” he said, finding the emissary bond and burning it away quickly. Derek grunted before Stiles slammed one between them into existence. It flared to life in a wave of heat that made both of them stagger.

Kapono caught them both as Stiles did his best not to pass out from the rush of connections that formed in its wake. He pressed his hands against his head and shut out all the bonds except for the one with him and Derek as he looked up at the other man.

I’ll fix your bond with your emissary after, but I need you to anchor me right now, okay?” Stiles said, waiting until Derek met his eyes.

Derek stepped forward, but to his credit, he didn’t argue. “Just…tell me what I need to do.”

“Focus on the bond, this is big magic, and I don’t know if…” Stiles trailed off.

Derek nodded. “Okay.”

Stiles turned, seeing Talia had taken a step back, her eyes narrowed.

“What…?” she demanded, snarling.

Stiles looked around, ignoring her as he tried to figure out a way to get back the other Hales. He needed to get to Cora. She knew him the best, she trusted him, and Stiles needed that trust right then.

“Nowhere to go,” Talia said in a soft voice, her eyes looking over Stiles’s shoulder as her face curled into a smirk. “You will let go of my son.”

“Nothing’s happening to me,” Derek said, stepping up next to Stiles. “Because I’m me. You’re killing everyone for nothing.”

Talia shook her head. “It will work,” she said, a fevered desperation in her eyes that told Stiles she was well past her ability to rationalize. He could use that.

“If you believed it would work, you’d be screaming as well,” Stiles snapped. “Not making your family suffer while you stand here fine. Some fucking Alpha, making them feel the pain while you prance around. Or maybe you like the sound of your daughters screaming.”

Talia snarled. “You would not be so brave if you were not hiding behind magic.”

Stiles leaned forward as far as he dared. “And you are a coward, using your children for your own gain. Some protector. Some alpha. Some parent. You’ve failed all three of those.”

Talia’s face transformed, fangs growing as she roared at him before stalking across the clearing to where Deaton was. He watched as she grabbed the man’s hand and dropped to her knees almost immediately, her free hand pressed against her chest.

Stiles didn’t wait before he bolted across the clearing, aware of the bond thrumming between him and Derek. He could feel the hurt and the confusion building as Derek’s pack responded to his emotions. Stiles skidded back into the original point, dropping to his knees next to Cora.

“Cora, look at me,” Stiles snapped as he reached into his back pocket and grabbed the stick the crones had given him and his lighter. He was fumbling. He knew he needed to slow down, but his mind was a thousand steps ahead as he watched the lights beginning to fade in her chest.

“Cora!” he snapped.

Scott dropped down, pulling Cora into his arms, shaking her gently. “Cors, come on, wake up.”

“Hurts!” she moaned as she tried to fight them off.

“I know, but I’m going to help,” Stiles said, fumbling to get the stick lit as best as he could with shaking hands.

Stiles felt hands take the stick and lighter, and he glanced to the side to see Noah lighting it. He was frowning, but he handed the lit stick back to Stiles and nodded his head once, the trust evident. It bolstered him, and he took a breath, turning back to Cora.

“Cora, I need your help to stop this,” Stiles said, calming himself down. “And I need you to trust me.”

Cora’s eyes opened, and he could see the gold in the fading, and he knew he was running out of time. “I need your claws, Cora. I need them right now, and I need you to stab them around my heart, as hard as you can, as close as possible. It’s where magic lives. It’s why your heart feels like it’s getting ripped out. But it will be fine. I need you to do this because we don’t have a pack bond, and this is the only way. I need your claws to pierce the magic in my heart. I know you can do this.”

Cora’s face twisted into a snarl, but her eyes were clearer the more he talked. He could see Scott’s horrified look, and Stiles wished he could explain more to them, but they were running out of time. Cora’s face twisted even more as pain took over, but she held out her hand, claws extending slowly as blood began to run down her fingers and didn’t stop, her healing ability gone.

“You’re the werewolf. I don’t have the strength,” Stiles said, taking her hand and pressing it tight against his chest. He shoved the stick between his lips, tucking it under his tongue and trying to ignore the horrible taste as he inhaled the ash, feeling his magic spark in return. “Come on, don’t be such a girl about it.”

Cora snarled and slammed her hand forward. Stiles screamed, biting down on the stick as her claws punctured skin and magic, his nerves screaming at him. He felt an arm wrap around his shoulders, keeping him steady as he breathed through the pain.

“Don’t…move,” he gasped, even as he carefully lowered his hands until he could dig his fingers into the Earth. Scott braced Cora, someone else sliding in to help hold Cora’s arm steady.

He could feel dirt digging into his nails even as the power built steadily the more he inhaled.

“Derek, you’re gonna need to get ready to anchor me,” he said, closing his eyes and reaching for Cora with his magic, finding her pack connection. He could see her bonds, most thinning except for the one that connected her to Deaton.

Stiles inhaled as deeply as he could, holding the smoke in his lungs, feeling the power as he pictured himself as a dam, standing between Deaton and the packs. For a moment, it felt like Deaton was going to sweep him away in a river of power, but then he felt the bond with Derek grow as his pack responded. He could feel the love and trust they had for Derek even in the face of the unknown. And Derek was sending all of that to Stiles.

Stiles opened his eyes, staring straight at Derek as he slammed the shield down, the screaming stopping so fast it made his ears ring. Stiles knew he was panting as he braced himself against the stolen magic Deaton flung at him.

“Stiles?”

He lifted his eyes and met Cora’s horrified stare as she looked down at her hand. “Do not move,” he ground out. Cora nodded, staring at her hand with wide eyes.

“What happens now?” Noah asked, wrapping his arm tighter around Stiles’s shoulders.

“Hadn’t gotten that far,” Stiles gasped, closing his eyes as he tried to focus on anything other than the physical pain. “Kinda winging it.”

Something slammed against the shield, and he flinched, thankful that his Dad kept him steady so he couldn’t hurt himself on Cora’s claws. He turned slightly, seeing Talia standing there, anger and confusion twisting her face into something horrible. He sneered at her but didn’t bother to speak, focusing on the shield even as Deaton began to crawl across it in his mind, looking for cracks.

“What are you doing?” Talia roared.

“Shut the fuck up.”

Derek’s voice rang across the clearing, and silence fell. Stiles turned his head to see Derek standing with his hands clenched by his side. Stiles had never seen Derek that angry before. He could feel the emotions rising through the bond as Derek’s pack responded to their alpha, making him stronger.

Kapono and Julia flanked, their eyes flaming gold as they stared daggers at Talia. Stiles tried to chuckle but ended up coughing, a second set of hands helping to brace him.

“How long can you stay still,” Talia demanded, crouching down and meeting Stiles’ gaze. “Before you move, and Cora rips out your heart?”

“Long enough that Deaton’s spell ends,” Stiles replied, feeling the stick bounce against his mouth. He bit down on it and grinned at her, ignoring the pain in his chest. “And then you get to deal with all the pissed-off Alphas and enemies you made when you were supposed to be making allies.”

Talia smirked. “All night then?”

“I’ve got you, Stiles,” Derek called out. “We’ve got you. Just hold on a little bit longer, and it’ll be fine.”

Stiles turned his head, seeing Derek down on one knee, one hand against the shield, and staring intently at him. “Could you not look so fucking noble right now, it’s distracting, and I won’t be held accountable for my feelings.”

Derek rolled his eyes and flipped Stiles off.

“Thanks,” he muttered, looking back to Talia. “I’m stubborn. I will win.”

Talia shook her head. “No, you’ll bleed out in your father’s arms.”

“I will shoot you,” Noah stated calmly, his arm tightening around Stiles’s shoulders.

Stiles felt another pair of arms wrap around him, and he turned his head to see Boyd, his face covered in sweat. Isaac joined Scott, helping Scott brace Cora even as Grace wiggled her way underneath Cora’s arm, the two of them held tight so they couldn’t move.

Stiles looked back at Talia. “I’m ready to stay. I’ve got no job, nowhere to be.”

Three women appeared with a clap of thunder, standing in the center of the star, barefoot, holding hands, and Stiles could feel the power rolling off them.

“You ain’t allowed to go anywhere anymore,” the woman in the middle said to Derek, her accent strong but melodic.

“Deal,” Derek replied, looking relieved, but he didn’t take his eyes off Stiles. The three women turned, looking at Stiles, and as one, they took a step forward, tilting their heads to the side.

“Well, now ain’t that a paintin’,” the first woman said, taking another step forward and crouched down without letting go of the other’s hands.

“How dare you!” Talia snapped, taking a step forward.

The woman on the other end of the chain looked up, her dark eyes flashing as she reached out a hand and, without a word, stopped Talia in her tracks. Talia looked stunned, struggling against nothing.

“Problem with plants is that they don’t always grow where you want ‘em to,” the woman said, her smile curling into something mischievous, reminding him of Kira with her playfulness.

Talia growled. “Do you know who I am?”

“Lady, I know exactly who you are,” the second woman replied. “Do you know who we are?”

“Who are you to come onto my lands?”

The first woman leaned forward, her smile turning into something hard that made Stiles want to step back. He knew these women had power; he could feel it deep in his bones. They had the sort of power that made Stiles want to be on his best behavior, and he didn’t even do that for his Dad.

“Well, seein’ you invited our Alpha here, then it stands to reason you invited us as well,” the first woman said, nodding towards Derek. “Now, so you know, it is time for introductions because I know I was raised right, and I know Derek was raised right, but something went wrong with you, so I wanna make sure you know how to be polite.”

“And how things work,” the woman in the middle said before her head snapped around, and she snarled. “Alan Deaton, I would be careful before you go down that road. You won’t like who you find in the deep woods.”

Stiles turned, seeing Deaton had been backing up, heading towards a barely there deer trail in the treeline. Deaton stopped. “I wasn’t. I was merely making sure you understood my intentions.”

“Oh, we know your kind of intentions,” the second woman said, raising her hand.

Stiles watched as the trees moved, growing wider and branches stretching until they cut off that exit. “Wow.”

The three women turned to look at him as one, and he suddenly felt pinned under the weight of their gaze. “Hi,” he said slowly, looking at them in turn.

“Howdy,” the first woman said, tilting her head. “Got yourself in a bit of a pickle there, ain’t you.”

Stiles chuckled and then groaned as it jarred his chest. He closed his eyes and did his best to stop moving, hearing Cora whimper and his Dad making shushing noises against the side of his head. He could still feel something battering at the shield, and he knew if he dropped it, everyone would fall to the ground screaming again.

“Somethings still there,” he said, opening his eyes and staring at the women, hoping that their power meant they knew how to do something. “I can feel it.”

The trio stepped closer, and the first woman knelt. “I’m Alice. Can you tell me what it feels like?” she asked softly.

“Feels like the ocean,” Stiles gasped. “It keeps battering and battering.”

Alice smiled. “Can you hold on?”

Stiles nodded. “Yeah.”

Alice stood, turning to where Deaton still had his hands up. “What was the plan, exactly? And don’t lie to me, Druid, or I’ll let the forest take you and use you as a breeding ground.”

Even from a distance, Stiles could see Deaton swallow, his eyes darting between Alice and Derek. He raised his hands higher, palms open, and fear on his face.

“I was doing what Talia asked of me, to bring her son back,” Deaton said carefully.

Alice snorted. “All she had to do for that was apologize to him, but that is neither here nor there. You know as well as I do that is Derek Hale, and he is, forgive the pun, hale, and hearty.”

“True Alpha’s do not exist,” Talia snarled.

Alice turned and leaned in, fixing Talia with a glare so intense that Stiles expected Talia to burst into flames. “The Goddess chose Derek, and she chose well. He came to our sanctuary, took our lost wolves, and made them whole. He gave them a home and gave them a family. Which is the opposite of what you and your kin did.”

No one spoke for a long moment before Alice turned back to Deaton. “My patience is thin. What were you planning to do? Because all you were doing was stealin’ the wolves’ sparks as fuel. Ain’t take that much for an exorcism.”

Deaton dropped his hands, fire and the smell of ash spreading. Stiles felt the barriers fall, and chaos broke loose. Alphas charged for Talia, who lunged towards Stiles, her hand outstretched. He flinched, the pain in his chest making him lose control, wolves collapsing into screams as the humans holding Cora and Stiles did their best to keep them steady.

Stiles closed his eyes and focused, slamming the shield down as he dug his fingers deeper into the earth, inhaling deeply, trying to get the last lingering smoke into his lungs as the demon tried to break through. The screaming stopped, but the silence didn’t last as people began to yell.

Stiles tuned them out until he felt like he had a hold on the shield again and opened his eyes, seeing that the packs had shifted, encircling the Hale family, and stopped by a line of mountain ash he could see this time.

“Can we not do that again,” he asked, looking at his Dad. Stiles felt like he was speaking around a mouthful of rocks.

Noah nodded. “Yeah, kid, we’ll try not to,” he said, rubbing a hand over Stiles’s head. “Gonna whistle, okay?”

Stiles nodded, turning his head, so his ear wasn’t directly next to his Dad’s mouth. Noah whistled, the sound making everyone stop and turn towards them.

“I understand you’re all pissed, but right now, my son has claws in his chest, keeping every single one of you standing of your own violation. So, remember that if he dies, every single one of you drops down back into that pain. So do me a favor and hold your squabbles until he doesn’t, or I swear I will shoot every fuckingsingle one of you myself,” Noah snapped. He didn’t raise his voice, but Stiles recognized the Sherriff’s voice when he heard it.

“Talia violated our trust!” one of the other Alphas snapped.

“Claws. Chest,” Noah ground out. “This is the immediate problem. Yes?”

There was a shuffling, and then one by one, people agreed. Stiles looked up as the first woman, Alice, crouched down in front of him.

“What is your name?”

“Stiles,” Stiles replied. “Sorry about uh…stealing the emissary bond from you, or whichever of you was Derek’s emissary.”

Alice smiled. “We all were, and it is okay. We understand. How about we get these claws out of you.”

Stiles looked around. “Deaton?”

Alice’s smile turned sour. “Goddess ain’t happy with him. He won’t make it through the woods.”

“Speak for her, do you?” Stiles asked a little disbelievingly.

Alice chuckled. “Do you know what you are doing?”

“Something stupid?”

Alice nodded. “Deaton was stealing the sparks from each wolf and twisting it into his own creature born of magic, and that’s what you’re holding back. It wasn’t an exorcism; it was a summoning. Exorcisms are five points, and seven makes a fairy circle.”

Stiles nodded, remembering a book he had read once. “Right, I think uh…I remember something like that. Maybe?”

Alice reached out and cupped the back of Stiles’s neck, and he felt some of the pain recede like cool water had been poured over his soul. He shuddered slightly at the relief, blinking a few times to focus more steadily on Alice.

“Goddess?” he asked.

She nodded. “You burned out our bond, you created your own, and then you…hardwired yourself into the Hale pack, and you’re standing between every single Alpha and the demon created from their strength. If the Goddess had not willed it, you would’ve been burned to a crisp.”

“Oh.” Stiles swallowed. “Well, I’m glad she willed it then.”

Alice chuckled and nodded. “Let’s break this, shall we?” she said, standing back up and turning to her companions.

“What’s happening?” Cora asked softly.

Stiles glanced towards her, seeing the tears running down her face as she stared at his chest. “I don’t know, I uh…I’m sort of making this up as I go along,” he admitted.

“And you’re doing wonderfully,” the third woman said, giving him a grin that reminded him of Kira again. “It was ingenious, especially since you have no clue what you’re doing.”

“Celia,” Derek said. “Be nice.”

“I’m telling the truth.”

“Thanks,” Stiles muttered. “Really, feeling the love here.”

Stiles turned towards Derek and his pack, including Sai, who had reappeared. Kapono and Julia were watching Talia warily, clearly ready to fight. Sai had a hand wrapped around Derek’s wrist, keeping the man in place. Talia was pacing, her eyes darting around, but there was a line of ash keeping her contained, thankfully.

The three women formed a circle. Stiles could feel the increase in power, and he gasped, coughing on the ash in his mouth. He kept coughing, trying not to jerk away. He could feel the hands tightening and another hand pressed against his chest. He opened his eyes to see Sarah, Talia’s sister, trying to keep him steady.

“Thanks,” he whispered.

Sarah cupped the side of his face. “No, thank you,” she said, tugging her sleeve down and wiping over his face. “For keeping them safe.”

“What else was I supposed to do?” he asked, confused.

“A whole list of things, but you made a choice, a painful one, and we all owe you a debt.”

Stiles glanced to where Talia was still pacing, growling. “I’m…I’m not the one you’ll need to worry about when this ends,” he said, looking back at the woman. “There’s bigger fish to fry.”

The trio of women began to chant, and initially, the words sounded like gibberish before they suddenly made sense, but they weren’t words. Every noise painted a picture in his mind, as clearly as if it was happening in real life.

Stiles could feel the heat of fire lick across his skin, purifying everything. He could see it move along the bond, jumping the shield and burning the darkness away. There was a rush of cool water, washing away the dark stain he could feel lingering at the edges of the shield. A soft breeze ruffled his hair, making him feel less exhausted. He felt the Earth move, strengthening his connections and calming him down.

The three women in the middle of the clearing began to glow before it spread, bathing everyone. Stiles glanced at Derek as the glow spread, lighting up the clearing like they were standing in full sunlight, and saw the man tilt his head back like a cat chasing sunlight.

The smile on Derek’s face was almost smug, and Stiles understood. The amount of power Derek’s emissaries had was awe-inspiring, and their ease with their magic made Stiles feel like a child. The glow faded, and Stiles watched as the sisters slowly knelt and pressed their hands to the ground. The ground shook for a moment, people crying out before it stopped, the glow disappearing, leaving silence in its wake.

The trio stood and let go of each other. Alice turned and smiled at him. “You can let go now.”

Stiles looked down and then back up. “You sure?”

Alice nodded. Stiles looked back over at Cora, who was watching nervously. He nodded, biting his bottom lip as she pulled her fingers out of his chest before she lunged forward, sobbing into his shoulder. He could feel other arms wrap around him until he was the center of a tangle of limbs.

“Ow,” he said when someone squeezed too tightly.

Instantly, people backed up, and Stiles pulled his hands from the ground, ignoring the dirt under his nails, and slumped back against his Dad, who wrapped him in a hug even as Melissa appeared and began to fret over his chest. He could see her hands fluttering, and he watched, half aware of what was going on.

“Stiles?” his Dad asked, tapping fingers against his cheek.

Stiles blinked, looking up, wondering when Melissa had moved to the side to let the middle woman settle down in front of him.

“Sorry, I never got your name,” Stiles said, blinking and trying to stay awake.

“Lacie,” Lacie said, reaching out to rest a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry. My sisters and I ain’t good at healin’, but I can give you some energy if that works.”

Stiles blinked, glancing between the three women and then back at Lacie. “Sisters?”

“Same Mama, different Dad’s,” she explained, resting a careful hand over his chest. “Energy?”

Stiles nodded. “Yeah, yes, please. Must’ve been some amazing woman to get three gorgeous daughters like you.”

Lacie laughed, cupping the side of Stiles’s face with her other hand. “I’m old enough to be your Grandma,” she said, closing her eyes and exhaling.

Stiles smelled sulfur for a second before it felt like the fog had lifted from his mind, and he blinked a few times. “I uh… doubt that,” he finally said.

“Doubt what?”

“That you’re old enough to be my Grandma. You’re like…20.”

Lacie laughed and patted his shoulder before standing up. “What’s your name?”

“Stiles Stilinski,” Stiles replied automatically.

“You’re named Stiles Stilinski,” Celia broke in, glancing over at Derek. “Seriously, Der?”

Derek shrugged. “Don’t know any other name.”

Stiles shifted to stand, thankful as his Dad helped him. He didn’t want to stand but sitting on the ground with everyone else standing made him feel awkward. “I’m uh…it’s actually Mieczyslaw but try getting a bunch of kids to say that.”

He managed to get to his feet and waggled his fingers at Derek. “Oi, Alpha butt, come over here and do your pain drain mojo.”

“Alpha butt?” Derek demanded, but he reached out and grabbed Stiles’s wrist.

Stiles let out a relieved sigh as the pain lessened. “Yeah, you’re an ass, and you’re an Alpha. So, Alpha butt.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “I don’t know how you’re so unsocialized. It’s like you were left in the woods or something.”

Stiles patted Derek’s hand after a moment, letting him know he was fine.

“Talia.”

Stiles watched Richard walk over and kneel in front of Talia, who was glaring between Derek and Stiles, her eyes glowing red.

“Talia, what did you do,” Richard demanded.

Talia began to speak, but there was no sound. Stiles watched as Alice waved a hand, and the silence dropped.

—hat I had to do to protect the family!” Talia snapped, glaring at Stiles and Derek.

“Derek is family. He’s our son,” Richard said, his voice pained.

“There’s something wrong with him,” Talia hissed. “You all see it; you all know it. That’s why no one fought with me when I kicked him out!”

Richard reeled back, and everyone turned towards Derek. Kapono stepped forward, shielding Derek from view, his arms crossing over his chest, daring people to speak.

“We cared,” Jenna snapped. “We always cared, and we missed him,” she stopped and turned towards Derek, holding her hands out. “We miss you, baby bro.”

Derek finally lifted his head and smiled. “I know. I missed all of you as well.”

Richard shook his head. “There’s nothing wrong with him. There never was. Derek is more than we could ever have dreamed of. All of them are. Why can’t you see that?”

Richard turned, looking at Stiles with a frenetic look in his eyes. “Did Deaton do something to her? Is she under a spell?”

Noah put himself between Stiles and Richard, palm out. “Easy there.”

“Did he?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles admitted.

“You stopped him; you can find out!” Richard said, looking at Stiles like he was the last hope for a dying man.

“I don’t know. I’m…this is all new to me. I didn’t even know if what I was doing would work.”

Richard seemed to collapse into himself, and the grief was strong enough that Stiles looked away, unable to deal with it.

“Talia Hale, I demand retribution.”

Stiles recognized Satomi Ito, standing with her hands folded into her sleeves as she glared at Talia.

Talia snarled. “You dare demand retribution on my land!”

“You used me and mine for a spell without our permission. You dare act as if you are the one wronged?” Satomi demanded, stepping forward, her lips pulled back into a snarl. The other alphas nodded, snarling as their seconds stood behind them, ready to fight.

Derek stepped forward passed Kapono, who fell into step behind him, Julia stepping up to his other shoulder. “Alpha Ito,” he said, getting everyone’s attention. He spread his hands to the side, palms out, and bowed. “I understand your frustration, trust me. As the target of an attack to remove my soul, I think I have the right of retribution, yes?”

Satomi nodded grudgingly. “I recognize this.”

Derek tilted his head, baring his neck in an obvious sign of trust. “Tempers are high, and I hope I can speak for all when I say we don’t want a war. It is obvious that Alpha Hale worked alone, without aid from anyone besides Druid Deaton. I do not deny your right to retribution but blaming a whole family for the actions of one is something a hunter would do.”

The dig worked, and Stiles could feel the tension drop, and he sighed softly. Derek waited a moment, but he didn’t move, keeping his hands spread to the side, looking harmless.

“The Hale pack will need to deal with this,” Satomi said, her arms relaxing to her sides. “And by Hale pack, I mean yours, Alpha Hale. I know what you’ve been doing for the past few years. Do not think your own family is exempt from those actions.”

If Stiles hadn’t had a crash course in Derek Hale’s micro-expressions years ago, he would’ve missed the sadness before he nodded once.

“I understand, Alpha Ito,” Derek said. “There is a lot that will need to happen, but I like to think we’re all rational people, and none want a blood war.”

Another Alpha stepped forward. “How do we know you’re not in on it?”

A crack of thunder made everyone flinch and turn towards the three sisters, who dropped their arms and spread them to the side. “I would suggest, Alpha Calhoun, that you choose your next words carefully,” they intoned in perfect unison.

Calhoun growled but kept silent.

Derek’s hands raised slightly. “I will deal with it, I promise. You have my word.”

“We accept this,” Satomi said, and one by one, the other Alpha’s nodded. Calhoun was the last with a grudging growl.

“Thank you,” Derek said, lifting his head and managing to smile around. “I appreciate your tru—”

A scream tore through the air, and suddenly there was chaos as the barriers broke, and Talia Hale lunged right for him. Stiles jerked away, twisting and feeling something creak in his chest before a popping sensation made the world go hazy, and everything went dark.

Part 7

June 22nd, 2014

Stiles groaned, turning his head away from the light. He blinked his eyes a few times, the world coming into focus as sound crept back in. He stared up at his Dad, seeing his worried look.

“—iles, can you hear me?”

Stiles groaned, licking his lips, his mouth dry. Stiles felt the cool press of an ice chip, and he took it gratefully, sucking on it to try and get some moisture in his mouth and to chase away the taste of ash.

“What…?”

Noah smiled, pressing a hand against his forehead. “Everything’s okay. You’re in the hospital. You’re fine. Just needed some fluids.”

Stiles nodded. “Everyone…?”

Noah frowned, and it made Stiles’s stomach drop. He struggled to try and sit up but groaned at the pain in his chest.

“Ah, stop that,” Noah said, helping him sit up. “Fractured ribs mean you don’t sit up without help, got it?”

Stiles nodded, pressing a hand over the worst of the pain. “Yeah, I got it. Is everyone okay?”

Noah sat down. “Everyone’s alive.”

“I don’t like that qualifier.”

Noah leaned forward, bracing his arms on his legs, glancing around to make sure they were alone. “Talia lunged for you, and Scott got in the way. He got bitten in the resulting scrum.”

Stiles felt something drop in his stomach. “He didn’t…he wasn’t sure he wanted it. Is he…?”

“He’s fine,” Noah explained. “The bite took. But he’s a little freaked out because he wasn’t prepared for it, and it’s stressing him out. Everyone’s working with him to get him settled.”

“And Talia?”

“In the cages underneath the Hale house,” Noah said softly. “She’s not fighting it. Whatever her problem with Derek is, it’s with him alone, and she was horrified that Scott got bitten. The rest of the Hales are a little listless, but the treaty Derek brokered will stand for the moment. Did you know that he’d been working as a sort of supernatural version of a hunter, dealing with issues before the actual hunters got there?”

Stiles shook his head, trying to make sense of everything. He knew Scott would make a decent werewolf, but all Stiles could think about was how much his friend had changed back the first time around.

“Well, he’s been doing that on the east coast,” Noah continued, “and the other Alphas knew it. Talia didn’t. It seemed to be a surprise to her. From what I got, it’s been working because he can help transfer power from an insane Alpha or help an omega find a place. Apparently, his pack is constantly changing. He started with 30, maxed out at 42, and is now down to 26 and hopes to have less.”

“Derek’s running a rehab facility for wolves?”

“Yeah, he’s been doing good work,” Noah said, shaking his head. “Which is good because I don’t know what will happen with Talia, and his family will need him for that.”

Noah leaned forward. “And you.”

“Me?” Stiles asked, wondering what he had done.

“I will preface this by saying I am so fucking proud of you for what you did. You saved everyone,” Noah said, looking at Stiles with so much pride that it made Stiles feel uncomfortable.

“Why is there a but?”

Noah nodded. “You did, but I’m your father. And if you could not try to burn yourself to a crisp stopping an insane druid from stealing someone’s soul, I’d appreciate it.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose!”

“I know. Celia explained what you did and how you did it. She said they’d wait for you to heal before taking back Derek’s emissary bond. Just to be safe.”

Stiles saw the pain on Noah’s face. “Sorry, not for doing it,” he correctly quickly before his Dad could speak, “but for worrying you. I didn’t mean to.”

Noah scooted the chair forward, resting a hand on Stiles’s forearm. “Kid, I’m always going to worry. I’m your Dad. That’s sort of in the job description.”

“I mean, maybe teenage drinking, but throwing myself in front of a soul demon is a little bit out of the realm of what you expected.”

“Well, Claudia always said you were special, and she was always right,” Noah said, squeezing his forearm. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“With a fractured rib.”

“Two fractured ribs,” Noah correctly. “Thankfully, they’re not badly fractured, and the Doctor said it should heal up quickly. Especially since you’ve always been a quick healer.”

“That’s the magic,” Stiles admitted softly, glancing out the window. “Supposedly.”

“Well then, I’m glad for it,” Noah said, squeezing his arm again before standing up. “I’m going to see when you can be released.”

“Is Melissa working?” Stiles asked. “Also, what did you tell them?”

“Lacrosse tackle gone wrong,” Noah said, shaking his head. “And no, she punched Talia after she bit Scott and broke her hand.”

Stiles winced. “Ouch.”

Noah grinned. “Broke her nose, even if it healed quickly. Just relax, and hopefully we can get you out of here soon. I know a lot of people want to talk to you.”

“Always wanted to be popular,” Stiles said. “The parties, the fame, the fortune.”

Noah rolled his eyes and ruffled Stiles’s hair before he left, nodding to Derek, who appeared in the doorway.

He looked worn out, and Stiles was thrown back in time to sixteen and terrified out of his mind. Stiles watched as Derek walked closer, and he was aware that Derek might look worn out, but he moved easier now. Derek was tired, but he wasn’t preparing for war.

Derek sat down in the chair Noah had vacated. “I wanted to check-in and see how you were.”

“Pain meds are doing their job, so it doesn’t hurt that badly,” Stiles said. “How are you holding up? Soul still attached?”

Derek snorted. “So far, the sisters couldn’t find anything wrong with me, and they checked and then checked again.”

Stiles nodded. “Good. How did you end up with them as your Emissaries?”

“They basically adopted me,” Derek explained. “The crones gave me a book. It turned out to be the sister’s grimoire, except any time someone else read the title, it said Ghost Towns of Appalachia, which got me wondering. I researched, found the actual book, and did some more research. And then, when I turned 18, I went searching and found Lost Cove, and they needed an Alpha. I needed a pack. Celia would say it’s kismet, but I say it’s pure dumb luck.”

“Sounds a little more kismet than you want it to be,” Stiles said, rubbing a hand over his face. “How’s Scott?”

Derek shook his head. “He’s…not bad off, honestly. I think knowing about werewolves helped him this time. He wasn’t dealing with the knowledge of werewolves, hormones, and everything else. He’s surrounded by friends. His Mom knows. You know. It’s not the same.”

Stiles nodded, glad, but he wasn’t sure what to say. Derek eyed him and leaned forward, blue eyes intent. “Talk to me.”

It was still odd to see the openness there where before there had once been walls strong enough to stop an army. But it looked good on Derek.

“I…I liked this Scott so much more,” Stiles admitted. “He was friendly, fun, and had my back even in the two weeks I’ve been around. He reminds me of the Scott I became friends within the first place. But he’s also better. He’s got drive, and he understands nuance now, and it has to be because he wasn’t a werewolf, and now I’m worried that him being a werewolf means he’s going to go back to the Scott who I hated.”

Derek shook his head after Stiles finished. “I don’t think he will. As I said, the circumstances are different. His first experience with a werewolf wasn’t someone biting him in the middle of the woods. He’s seen how a pack interacts. He’s part of a functional pack, he’s got a good support system, and we’re not worried about mass murderers. The circumstances suck, but this Scott has better tools now.”

“He was going to go away to college,” Stiles said. “He wanted to be a vet.”

“And someone from the pack will go with him. Boyd and Isaac can go, and so can Cora because she’s between jobs right now. So can you,” Derek explained. “Right now, Scott is a beta with a functional pack, and Talia has some issues with me, but they don’t extend to her pack, so she’s not going to be going crazy and trying to make him kill people.”

Stiles wanted to believe Derek, but he didn’t know if he could. “Yeah.”

Derek frowned, a line appearing between his eyebrows. Stiles reached out, rubbing a thumb over the line until it smoothed away.

“Cheer up, Sourwolf, we won. If this is winning.”

Derek stood up and leaned over, kissing his forehead. “We’re all alive. I’ll take it as a win.”

Stiles frowned when Derek pulled away, confused by the kiss. “What?”

“A lot of my pack are touch starved, which isn’t normal for a werewolf. And I was as well,” Derek explained, sitting back down. “And it took me a long time to accept that back into my life because it had been so long since someone had touched me without wanting to cause me pain. And it required a lot of talking which wasn’t easy for me initially.”

“Silentwolf,” Stiles said. “Or, actions speak louder than words, wolf.”

“That’s a bit of a mouthful.”

“I’ve been told I have a big mouth,” Stiles replied, grinning at Derek’s eyeroll.

“Point is, I needed to talk to someone. And you do as well, so I’m going to give you Lacies’ number,” Derek said, meeting Stiles’s eyes. “Like I told you, she’s a licensed therapist, and she knows about the time thing. You should talk to her.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow, still stuck on the forehead kiss and how easily Derek had given it.

“When I first met her, I had been running for almost fourteen years. Fourteen years of constantly feeling like the next day would be my last. I had gotten my family back, and then I lost them again, and I hadn’t had a proper pack bond in almost two years. I was a mess, and I still am. I still have bad days, I told you that, but Lacie told me that no one could survive the stuff we’ve survived and not be a little fucked up from it. And I can’t even imagine what you had to deal with at the end,” Derek explained.

Stiles looked down, not wanting to think about the end.

Derek took his hand. “Having someone to talk to who is helpful, trust me. And yeah, you might always have some issues, but you can feel better.”

Stiles was aware he had tears running down his face, and he sniffed, rubbing a hand over his face, shaking his head. “Doesn’t feel like it. Right now, I feel tired.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling well.”

There was a casual confidence to this Derek that suited him. The same as the soft smiles and relaxed clothing. Knowing Derek had come through alright, in the end, helped Stiles feel better about his future.

He took a deep breath and nodded. “So, supernatural therapist? Is she like Ghostbusters? When there’s something strange in the werewolf’s brain, who you gonna call? Lacie!”

“Sure, we’ll go with that.” Derek squeezed his hand, and Stiles felt the tight band around his chest loosen. He glanced down as Derek dropped his hand away, the black lines fading.

“Thanks,” he said.

Derek nodded and left, not saying goodbye. Stiles watched the doorway for a long moment before he closed his eyes, content to wait for his Dad to come back. He had nowhere to be.

Currently

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