Storytime with Rachel F Hundred

Derek represses the urge to sigh as he pulls up in front of the Hale family home.

It’s not the first time he’s been back in the two years which have passed since he was found by Stiles Stilinski, not even the tenth time, but every time he has returned, he has dreaded every moment.

He knows intellectually that he is not putting his family in danger being there. Kate Argent is dead. She was killed in prison a mere month after her arrest. She’d tried to blame everything on her late and crazy father Gerard who had died from cancer, but since she had been caught in the act of trying to kill another family in Colorado by the FBI, it hadn’t worked.

Kate is dead, Derek tells himself again.

The Argents have sworn a peace treaty with the Hales.

His Uncle Peter who had been responsible for Derek’s former exile is buried in the Preserve, body rendered into parts, wrapped in wolfsbane, and sunk deep enough under the earth that his bones won’t be found for a century.

It still hurts knowing that Peter had been the one to convince his family to send him away after the near-miss with the fire and after Paige’s death. He’d been stupid and foolish to believe the older gym teacher was truly interested in him. He’d just been so, so very lonely in the wake of mercy killing Paige.

At the time of his exile, he’d thought it was no more than he deserved for getting involved with Kate, for spilling his family’s secrets, but his Mom has made it clear Peter had lied about what had happened with Kate to her. Maybe Peter had intended to bring Derek back at some point, but Derek had left his high school graduation ceremony and spotted Kate in a nearby mall.

He never knew if she was there for him or for another werewolf pack. He hadn’t waited around to find out.

He’d ran.

He’d headed back to Beacon Hills, but with the belief he was exiled in mind, he hadn’t gone to his mother but to her Emissary.

Deaton had set him up in the Preserve, had helped him find work, and encouraged Derek to build the cabin. He’d been safe and alone, but on pack land. It had been enough to stave off going feral.

And yet…

According to his Mom, he’d never been exiled from the pack at all. His family had thought his being sent to a new school would help him with his grief and guilt; help him make a new start. They’d sent him letters and gifts that first couple of months that he’d never received because Peter had controlled everything. Finally, Peter had created the fiction that Derek had run away while telling Derek he was exiled.

Why Deaton had never told his mother about how Derek had turned up in Beacon Hills, Derek has no idea. On the one hand, he will always be grateful for Deaton’s help, and on the other, he hates that the Emissary had effectively kept him alone and isolated for so many years.

Once everything had come out, Derek’s mother had summarily dismissed Deaton from service. He’d left Beacon Hills shortly after.

His replacement Julie Baccari is not someone who Derek likes. She had tried to seduce him until Laura had warned her off. Her presence in the pack is another reason why Derek dreads visiting.

Derek’s father comes out of the house and onto the porch.

Derek realises belatedly that he’s been sitting in his truck for a while. He unclenches his fingers from the wheel and gets out.

He’s dressed in his older clothing; worn jeans, old t-shirt, and a green hunting jacket. His boots are scuffed and used. He knows his mother will hate his outfit, but he wants, needs, to be comfortable.

Derek closes the truck and glances across the other vehicles present. He notes his brother Sam’s Mercedes-Benz, the Camaro which Laura had given to Cora, and his baby brother Jake’s Corvette in front of the house.

Something eases inside of him when he sees Laura’s sedate SUV. She’s just had a second son. He’s looking forward to seeing baby JJ again, and his older brother, Parker. So far, they’re the only children of the next generation.

There are a couple of other cars from the pack. Peter’s ex-wife, Alaina has parked her blue Honda between Yukimura’s Ford and Julia’s Tesla. Jackson Whittemore’s Porsche sits alongside Lydia Martin’s sporty convertible. He doesn’t see either Erica or Malia’s car present.    

He’s a little surprised to see the Sheriff’s patrol car on the other side of Laura’s. He knows Stiles isn’t due home from for another couple of days.

Stiles is at Berkeley defending his Criminology dissertation. He’d called Derek the night before demanding to be distracted. Derek had made a token protest before settling in to fondly debate Stiles. They’d ended up arguing about Star Wars movies well into the night.

Derek lets the memory of Stiles’ babbling over why Ewan McGregor’s performance as Obi-Wan cannot save The Attack of the Clones to ease his anxiety as he steps up to hug his Dad.

Richard Hale looks like Derek with just more grey hairs peppering the black of his hair. He’s taken to wearing his reading glasses most of the time too; perched on his nose like an absent-minded professor rather than the kick ass werewolf lawyer he actually is.

“Glad to see you, Derek,” his Dad cups the back of his neck gently before letting go and guiding him into the house.

The scent of home and pack hit him as he walks through the door.

It’s his mother’s perfume, his Dad’s cologne; the smell of freshly baked bread competing with roasted coffee beans. It’s Laura’s milky motherhood and baby powder; her husband Jordan’s ashy undertone. It’s Cora’s dirt under her fingernails from her work as a florist. It’s Sam’s lingering hospital smell from his work as a doctor and Jake’s construction sweat and dust.

His older brother is the first across the room to hug him, but he’s quickly followed by their other siblings.

Derek endures five minutes of family before he retreats to a corner where the Sheriff is sitting nursing a mug of coffee. The older man gives him a nod of acknowledgement.

Across the room, Cora settles back down on the sofa between Scott and Alaina. Jackson has pulled in a dining chair from the living room for Lydia; she sits while he leans on the wooden back.

His Dad offers Derek a fresh mug of coffee and he accepts as his mother marches up to the hearth and raises an eyebrow expectantly. They all fall silent.

“I’ve had a communication from Alpha Deucalion,” his mother’s lips twist. “He has demanded reparation from the Hale pack for the loss of his eyesight during his failed attempt to agree peace with Gerard Argent some years ago. He is bringing his pack of Alphas here to discuss terms.”

Derek ducks his head down.

The peace conference had been why Paige had died. Ennis, one of Deucalion’s allies, had bitten her.

“Reparation?” Lydia’s voice is sharp. “What does that mean?”

“It means nothing good,” Julia states briskly. “Deucalion killed his pack for power to avenge his loss with Argent. He convinced other Alphas to join him by forcing them to kill their packs.” She pauses. “I barely escaped with my life when he convinced my previous Alpha, Kali, to do the same.”

“What about law enforcement? Why haven’t they stepped in to arrest these Alphas?” asks the Sheriff.

“What about them?” retorts Julia. “The pack’s deaths were ruled as a wild animal attack on a camping trip.”

“Deucalion’s own pack was ruled as a gang-related incident,” his mother adds. “Ennis killed his pack in a fire…”

Derek flinches.

“Another pack was put down to foster sons turning on their abusive caretakers and running away,” notes Julia. “Yasmin’s pack was considered to be a cult suicide pact.”

“The packs are all different sizes, all different methods of killing,” his mother meets the Sheriff’s eyes, “nothing to link them and they’re all smart enough to set up something that works enough for the local police to believe.”

“Does reparations mean that Deucalion expects you to kill your pack?” asks Lydia, sharply.

His mother shakes her head. “He’s killed to build power because he wants to kill me, not because he wants to add me to his pack.” She pushes her hand through her dark hair. It has a few strands of grey in the mix now. “He’s always blamed me for what Argent did to him and his pack. Ennis did the same; he bit an innocent girl on his way out of town as revenge.”

Derek looks away.

“I think you should start from the beginning,” the Sheriff says calmly. “What exactly happened back then?”

Derek admires Stiles’ father. Noah is stalwart in his own authority and never allows the Alpha status to make any difference to how he interacts with Derek’s mother.

He isn’t surprised when his mother complies.

“Deucalion wanted a new peace treaty with the hunters,” his mother begins. “He wanted to set up a working relationship where the packs and hunters would work together to overcome threats. He asked for the meeting to be hosted on Hale land.”

“We owed Deucalion a debt,” his father puts his hand on his mother’s shoulder. “We agreed but refused to participate ourselves as we knew Gerard was unlikely to agree. We warned Deucalion, and the packs who came to the conference were told that they participated at their own risk; we were not providing security and it was Deucalion’s show.”

“It turned into Argent’s show,” his mother mutters bitterly. “Argent wanted to eliminate all werewolves. He played Deucalion. It was always a trap. Deucalion lost half of his pack in the fight, Ennis lost one of his betas, and Yasmin lost her husband.”

“Deucalion was blinded,” his father continues. “Deaton did provide him with care until he could return to his pack. When he got home, they turned on him, blaming him for Argent’s duplicity. All we know is that Deucalion killed them all in retaliation.”

“Deucalion was made powerful in killing his betas,” his mother says, crossing her arms over her body. “He decided to build a pack of powerful Alphas who would do the same, increasing his power in turn. He intended to hunt and kill Argent, only he was denied when Argent fell ill and died of cancer.”

“Denied one target, he seeks another,” his father looks at his mother tenderly. “He’s coming to kill our Alpha.”

“And then us, presumably, since we’ll be his betas,” Lydia concludes, rapping her fingers on the wooden arm of the chair she’s in.

“That can’t be right, can it?” blurts out Scott. “I mean, don’t we get to choose?”

Derek wonders how Scott McCall has managed to last so long in the pack without learning anything about werewolves. He and Scott mutually loathed each other at first sight.  Scott hates that Stiles is Derek’s friend, and Derek thinks Scott’s an idiot.

“Theoretically, you could decide to leave the pack,” his mother says evenly, “but then you would be omega and fair game to him anyway.”

“How did you find out he’s on his way?” asks Lydia.

“We were approached by his Emissary, Marin Morrell,” his mother’s lips twist again in distaste. “She’s Deaton’s sister.”

“She came to us in her role as Deucalion’s Emissary to inform of us of his intent to challenge for the territory,” Julia adds, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “He’ll be here in a fortnight.”

“I have asked for a parley,” his mother sighs. “Hopefully, we can end this without bloodshed. But, be wary. Deucalion will try to weaken us before he attacks.”

They speak a while about a buddy system, additional security around JJ and Parker, about patrols…

Derek’s mother finally wraps everything up and his Dad leads the majority of the pack out to the back for a barbeque. His mother prevents him from following, gesturing for Derek and Noah to stay behind.

Derek straightens as his mother meets his eyes.

“I want you to move back home,” his mother says bluntly.

Derek freezes.

“You’re too isolated out in the cabin,” she continues bluntly, “and you’re no match for Deucalion.”

Derek flushes with shame.

The Sheriff’s hand lands on his shoulder, a comfort. “It sounds like most werewolves wouldn’t be a match for him, son, not just you.”

“Yes, that’s right,” his mother says quickly. “I wasn’t meaning to suggest you’re weaker than any other beta in the pack, Derek, just that nobody is a match for Deucalion.”

Derek wonders if they can always have Noah be present in their talks. The thought of moving back into the house…

“Your father and I would love to have you home,” his mother says softly.

She’s sincere. Derek can feel that. He just can’t trust it.

Noah’s hand squeezes his shoulder before letting go. “Talia, won’t Derek moving back in also be a bad signal to send to Deucalion?” He waves a hand at her. “He might target Derek more if he thinks he’s getting special focus.”

His mother sighs. She rubs her head and nods. “Perhaps, but the issue remains that Derek is in danger out in the cabin alone.”

“Why don’t you move in with me and Stiles for a while?” suggests the Noah, turning to him. “We have the space, and it will look more to outsiders that you’ve been asked to protect us than the other way around.”

“Won’t it put a target on you and Stiles?” Derek counters, although he’s tempted by the compromise. His mother isn’t wrong. His cabin is isolated and while that worked to keep him safe when no-one knew about it, it doesn’t now everybody does. Moreover, he really likes the idea of sharing space with Stiles; he likes it too much.

Stiles doesn’t need to be saddled with a werewolf with as many issues as Derek, Derek reminds himself. Not that Stiles has shown any real interest in dating Derek. Sure, Derek can sense that Stiles finds him attractive, but the younger man has dated plenty of other people through the past two years and has never approached Derek. Stiles is confident enough to make his interest known if he had any.

“No,” his mother interrupts, “Deucalion is too smart to start trouble with a Sheriff.” Her face brightens with hope. “Please, Derek? It will take a weight off my mind.”

Derek turns to Noah. “If you really don’t mind?”

“You’re more than welcome, son,” Noah says warmly.

“Noah, about Stiles and this situation…” his mother begins hesitantly.

And Derek hasn’t even considered that. Stiles is not the type to just let things go.

“I’ll wrangle him,” Noah sighs heavily. “There’s been a couple of weird murders in the last week which I can distract him with.”

“I can help,” Derek offers. He doesn’t want Stiles anywhere near Ennis or the others.

His mother nods. “Shall we grab some barbeque?”

“Red meat and real potato salad? Thought you’d never ask,” Noah says cheerfully. He points a finger at Derek. “No telling Stiles about this.”

Derek ducks his head to hide his smile and follows the Sheriff outside.

o-O-o

Stiles ponders the murder boards he’s set up in the back office of the station and taps a pen idly against his lips.

He isn’t an idiot.

Apart from the shiny new certificate which means he can call himself ‘Doctor,’ (which, for the record, will never get old), he’s really not an idiot. He knows his Dad has partially asked him to consult on the murders to keep him occupied while the whole Alpha pack-Deucalion thing is a thing.

Stiles is not complaining.

Much.

And really, he’s still able to multi-task. Who needs sleep?

He shakes himself. He really needs…

“Coffee.”

As if he has summoned him like a genie making a wish, Derek slides into the room and places a take-out cup holder on the table at the back. There are three cups.

It hasn’t surprised Stiles at all that his Dad had also looped Derek into the investigation and into staying at the house. They both know Derek’s relationship with his family is a work in progress.

Having gotten to know Derek in the years since he found him, Stiles isn’t particularly inclined to forgive the Hales for sending Derek away after he’d been traumatised, even if they had been manipulated by the late and unlamented Peter Hale.

“Tell me you got cookies too?” begs Stiles, his eyes on the large cup at the front.

He tries to ignore the flutter of attraction he always feels around Derek. Derek is an insanely attractive human being, werewolf-y being, but he has Issues (with a capital I) and he needs Stiles as a friend more than as a lover.

Derek rolls his eyes and hands him the cup along with a paper bag.

The freshly baked scent of the double chocolate-chip cookie wafts back up at him.

Stiles beams at Derek. “You’re my favourite.” He immediately breaks a piece off the cookie to eat.

Derek’s ears go red at the tips.

“I thought I was your favourite,” his Dad closes the door behind him and smiles at Stiles.

Stiles hastily swallows the large bite of cookie he’s just stuffed into his mouth and waves at his father. “You’re my favourite human,” he says, “Derek is my favourite werewolf.”

Derek hides his face in the caramel coconut latte concoction that he always drinks.

“Your text said you had something?” His Dad accepts the third and final cup from Derek along with an oatmeal and raisin cookie.

Stiles shoots Derek an approving look for his choice of cookie for Stiles’ Dad before he turns back to the murder boards. “Three murders spaced out, one every three days.”

He almost gestures with his coffee cup, but he is very aware that he’s just as likely to spill it all over the floor, and instead places the precious drink down and picks his pen back up.

“Gail Bendick, attended Beacon Hills High, sixteen, and out at a friend’s party,” Stiles recites. “She’d said to friends that she’d intended to disappear with her boyfriend Steve and do the do for the first time; she just disappeared and was found murdered in an alleyway miles away.”

“If you’re not old enough to say the words…” his Dad taunts him gently.

Stiles rolls his eyes at him. “Second victim. Jeremy Van der Magel. He attends an elite Catholic prep school in Handersfield. He came home last weekend, went out with old friends, and disappeared from the club.” He tapped a picture of a ring on Jeremy’s finger. “This is a pledge ring. Jeremy was part of a movement which saves themselves for marriage.”

“Two virgins,” Derek murmurs, leaning back in his chair.

“Three,” Stiles says. “Anna Watkins, third victim, found yesterday. Her boyfriend noted that they were planning to go to the Beacon Hill Park Hotel for their first romantic liaison as they didn’t want to be cheesy and do it at prom.” He waggles his eyebrows expressively.

“That’s the common denominator?” His Dad sighs. “That’s a broad category to protect from a serial killer.”

“Well,” Stiles says, “the good news is that you don’t have to protect virgins anymore.” He picks up his laptop and hands it to his Dad. “This is magical ritual called a Five Fold Knot ritual. Virgins are the first fold in the knot. Each knot needs three sacrifices.”

“That’s a thing?” His Dad says even as he reads the information Stiles has gathered for him.

“I could be wrong,” Stiles admits. “Ducky thinks I’m right.”

“You consulted with Ducky?” His Dad asks, but with an approving nod which means Stiles guessed rightly that his Dad would support his reaching out to the former NCIS medical examiner.

“I logged the consult in the log,” Stiles confirms. “He refused the standard fee. He says he’s seen the ritual attempted once before.”

Doctor Mallard is a font of knowledge, not just about forensics, but about the weird and the supernatural. He’d finally retired his position to his protégé the year before and he’d been delighted to be asked for an opinion.

Stiles is just thankful that his tutor at Berkeley, Doctor DiNozzo, had introduced Ducky to him during the search for Derek.

His Dad hands the laptop to Derek who begins reading.

“So, yay for the good news that you don’t have to protect all the town’s virgins, and boo to the bad news is that there could be another twelve deaths potentially and the groupings are deeply unhelpful,” Stiles says with a false cheerfulness that his Dad shooting him a chastising look.

“The next fold is warriors,” Derek notes.

“Veterans, members of the reserves, people who do martial arts,” Stiles shrugs. He points a finger at his father. “Police?”

“I suspect we’d be more on the hook for the guardian knot,” his Dad says calmly. He folds his arms over his chest pulling his uniform shirt taut.

“I’m thinking parents for that,” Stiles says, worry creeping into his voice, even though he tries really hard to keep it out.

“Well, that definitely narrows the list of potential victims,” his Dad says dryly. He shakes his head. “Hopefully we won’t get to that point.”

“This says the ritual is typically used by witches and Darachs to increase their power,” Derek says slowly.

Stiles looks over at him, not liking the very worried tone that’s crept into Derek’s voice.

Derek looks up at Stiles. “Marin Morrell is a Druid.”

“Deucalion’s Emissary?!” Stiles’ eyes open wide. “How do you know that?”

“My mother said she was Deaton’s sister,” Derek says. He taps the side of the laptop. “I remember Deaton mentioning his sister as a powerful druid in her own right a couple of times when we talked.”

Stiles whirls away and quickly scribbles the name on a post-it. He sticks it on the murder board, and snatches up his laptop. He quickly navigates to the folder where he’d stuck all his information about the Alpha pack, ignoring the glance which Derek exchanges with his father.

“She’s employed as the school guidance counsellor,” Stiles hands the laptop to his Dad.

His Dad reads it and sighs, handing it back. “You have a folder about the Alpha Pack.”

“Of course I do,” Stiles doesn’t see the point of denying it.

His Dad points at him. “You’re supposed to be staying out of it.”

“I wanted to know what we’re dealing with,” Stiles counters, waving the laptop at him. “The more we know the better.” He gestures at the board. “Morrell had access to Watkins and Bendick.” He tilts his head. “She’s Catholic. Maybe she attended the same church or mass as Van der Magel?”

“Circumstantial,” his Dad cautions.

“She has motive,” Stiles says. “Look I ran the scenarios. If the packs go to war, it’s likely that Talia will win. Home court advantage plus numbers.”

His Dad rests his forehead in the palm of his right hand.

“If Morrell shares the power boost with the Alpha Pack, it would make them difficult to beat in a confrontation,” Stiles concludes.

Derek grimaces. “We should probably tell my Mom.”

“I’ll talk with her,” his Dad drops his hand and looks over at Derek. “I need to discuss the fact that Stiles has given me enough to pull Morrell in as a suspect. I have no idea what the politics of that are going to be around Talia’s parley with Deucalion.”

Stiles hadn’t thought of that.

His Dad reaches over and pats his shoulder. “Good work on finding us a suspect.”

Stiles flushes at the praise. He never gets tired of his Dad being proud of him. At several points in his childhood, Stiles had thought he was a complete embarrassment as a son.

“Maybe you want to wait on questioning Morrell until Ducky sends us the amulets?” suggests Stiles, jumping in again.

“Amulets?” questions his Dad.

“Magical amulets which will help protect us against magic,” Stiles says with a note of incredulity in his own voice.

Despite working out that the supernatural was a thing back in high school when Scott had gotten a miraculous cure for his asthma and promptly dumped him as a friend, Stiles can still be taken aback by things like magic being really real.

“Magical amulets,” his Dad sighs. “How does Ducky even know about them?”

“It’s Ducky,” Stiles shrugs. Dude has depths. Stiles wants to be like Ducky when he’s that old.

“Fair point,” his Dad concedes. “Look, it’s late. There’s nothing more we can do here until after I’ve talked with Talia,” he holds up a hand when Stiles would have chipped in, “and gotten Ducky’s magical amulet. Maybe you two can go home and get a start on dinner?”

Stiles glances over at Derek who nods.

An hour later, they are pottering in the kitchen of the Stilinskis’ home.

Stiles is very aware that the tableau is very domestic. Derek is handling the actual cooking because Stiles is not culinary talented. Sometimes he thinks it’s a wonder he and his Dad managed to cobble together enough nutritionally balanced meals to get Stiles through his teen years.

Derek offers a spoon of the curry he’s made for Stiles to taste.

Stiles feels flushed as he leans forward and tries to pretend it’s the heat from the stove that’s making his cheeks burn. Damn his pasty white skin!

The curry is awesome. He tells Derek who shoots Stiles a shy and pleased smile before he turns back to check on the rice.

Stiles leans back on the counter and picks up the bottle of beer to prevent himself jumping the werewolf.

“Why’d you look into the Alpha Pack?” asks Derek, turning back to him. “You know my Mom said to leave it to her.”

Stiles sighs and rubs a thumb over the top of the bottle. “It’s not that I don’t trust your Mom…”

Derek stares at him pointedly.

“Fine,” Stiles says, throwing up a hand, “I don’t trust your Mom.” He grimaces. “I just wanted to make sure we knew all the facts.”

“Are you worried they’ll target you because I’m staying here?” asks Derek bluntly.

“I’m worried they’ll target you despite you staying here,” Stiles blurts out. He pushes a hand through his hair and thinks maybe he should think about a trim. “Look, I think it’s good you’re staying here.”

A slash of red appears on Derek’s cheeks. “Me too.”

They both look at each other for a beat too long before Stiles’ Dad calls a greeting from the door and the moment is over.

Stiles doesn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

Disappointed, Stiles thinks, as he shifts to greet his Dad. He’s always disappointed when the moments between him and Derek go nowhere, but his friendship with Derek is more important and Stiles will focus on that.

o-O-o

Derek watches amused as Laura chugs down his coffee, makes a face at the caramel syrup as she always does, and sets the mug on the table. He doesn’t begrudge her the caffeine – he’s a regular babysitter for her and he admires that she manages to corral Parker twenty-four hours a day, never mind look after a newborn.

Laura waves over the waitress and orders her own coffee as Angela refills Derek’s mug. “No Stiles? I thought we’d have his presence since he’s your buddy.”

Derek shrugs ignoring her teasing note. “There was a fourth body found this morning. Noah took him out to the crime scene.” He places an amulet on the table. “Here. Ducky sent some amulets to help protect us. We dropped Sam’s on the way here. Noah has one for Jordan.”

Laura picks up the amulet and loops the leather strap over her head. “Do you think all these murders are connected to what’s going on with Deucalion?”

“Stiles thinks they’re connected which means they probably are,” Derek says simply, repressing the urge to touch his own amulet sitting under his t-shirt. Stiles is a great investigator.

“He should have stayed with you until I got here,” Laura says, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. “Mom got word this morning that Deucalion is staying in a house downtown.”

Derek shrugs. “Noah and Stiles followed me here in the Sheriff’s car and made sure I was safely in the diner before they headed out.” He processes the rest of her sentence with a frown. “They’ve arrived?”

“Yeah,” Laura sighs heavily.

Angela comes back with Laura’s coffee and checks they want their usual order.

Weekly Thursday brunches with Laura have been a mainstay of Derek’s life since his reunion with his family. He loves them. He was always closest with Laura and having her back in his life is a gift.

Derek waits until Angela is gone before he continues their discussion. “When’s the parley?”

“Tomorrow night,” Laura wraps both hands around the coffee mug. She regards him over the rim. “Mom wants the whole pack there.”

“Show of force?” asks Derek.

Laura nods. “She thinks she can dissuade him.”

Derek isn’t certain his mother is right. “Does she want Noah and Stiles there?”

“Noah, yes,” Laura sighs heavily and meets his gaze directly. “How likely is it that Stiles will be able to keep quiet?”

“He’ll follow Noah’s orders until it doesn’t make sense to follow the orders,” Derek says bluntly. “But he won’t break the parley rules if someone takes the time to take him through it.”

“I can do that,” Laura grimaces, “I need to go through them with Jordan anyway.”

“Why don’t you bring Jordan and the kids for dinner tonight?” Derek says. “I’ll cook mac and cheese.”

“Sold,” Laura says brightening. “I love your mac and cheese.”

Angela arrives with the food. For a few minutes they’re occupied with the need to pour syrup or ketchup and take their first bites.

“So,” Laura says teasingly, “how is living with Stiles?”

Derek looks up from his omelette sharply.

Laura rolls her eyes and points her fork at him. “Not the first time I’ve seen you with a crush.”

Derek feels his ears go hot. He focuses on his food and ignores the question.

Laura sighs. “Hey,” her foot nudges him under the table, “it’s OK if you like him. You know that, right?”

His gaze flickers up.

“I mean,” Laura is focused on cutting through her pancake, “I don’t get it because, Stiles, right? He’d drive me insane within minutes, but he’s a good guy. Kind of attractive in a nerdy kind of way.”

Derek thinks Stiles is attractive full stop. Physically, he’s slim, but he’s got a muscular runner’s build under his clothes and he’s surprisingly strong. He’s got thick dark hair, warm eyes, and a mobile mouth that Derek wants to kiss. But, more than that, he’s good to his core. He’s smart and funny…

“Wow,” Laura murmurs, snapping his attention back to her. “You really like him.”

Derek looks down at his own plate.

Her foot nudges his again.

He looks up.

“Have you said anything to him?” asks Laura.

Derek simply stares at her.

“What?” Laura points her fork again. “You have to know he likes you too.”

Derek rolls his eyes.

“He’s probably waiting on you, Derek,” Laura says softly.

Derek sips his coffee and considers that, because he’s considered that before and put it aside because Stiles has always gone after what he wants. It feels different with Laura actually saying it.

“He’s got an offer from the FBI,” Derek says quietly.

Stiles had talked to his Dad about it the night before once Derek had gone up to bed. His werewolf hearing had helped him eavesdrop on the conversation. He knows Stiles isn’t sold on the offer, worried about his Dad and Beacon Hills, but Derek also knows it’s an incredible opportunity for him as does Noah who’d done his best to get Stiles to see that without saying it directly.

“You could go with him,” Laura says.

Derek cocks his head. He hadn’t considered that. The Preserve has been his refuge for so long.

“It might help your relationship with the Olds if they see you moving on from…” Laura waves both of her cutlery in the air in a vague gesture, “everything.”

Derek huffs. She’s probably right. His parents would probably relax if he demonstrably moved on from the cabin and his accounting job. He owns the company now since his mother had made Deaton pass it over to him before Deaton left, but really nothing has changed very much for him day-to-day.

“You could be wrong,” Derek murmurs, “about Stiles.”

“I’m never wrong,” Laura says confidently.

Her confidence settles something in Derek. Maybe he should talk to Stiles, at least, and see what the younger man wants.

Laura hums. She starts in on a story detailing Parker’s latest shenanigans and Derek nudges her foot grateful for the change in topic. He settles in and enjoys his brunch, revelling in the easy camaraderie of his older sister.

They’re finished and almost about to leave when Derek glances through the window and sees Julia pulling up outside.

“Isn’t she supposed to be Alaina’s buddy?” asks Laura caustically.

Their dislike of Julia is one of the reasons why they’d re-bonded so quickly as siblings. In fact, none of the Hales like the witch except for his mother.

Julia hurries inside.

Derek notes that she looks overly pleased to see him.

“Don’t worry,” Laura says, “I won’t leave you alone with her.” She waggles her eyebrows. “I know you’re saving yourself for Stiles.”

Derek rolls his eyes. He reaches for his wallet. It’s his turn to pay.

Julia nods at Laura, but her gaze remains focused on Derek as she reaches their table. “Derek, I’m glad I caught you.”

“Hello to you too, Julia,” Laura says dryly.

“Laura,” Julia acknowledged her coolly. She keeps her eyes on Derek.

Derek feels the amulet warm against his skin. He wonders if it always heats up in the presence of a witch.

“Derek,” Julia continues, smiling, “I need some help in my apartment. I was hoping that you would be able to come back with me.”

Her hand reaches out to touch his arm and he shifts subtly away.

“What kind of help?” asks Derek sharply.

Laura snorts.

Julia blinks as though she hadn’t expected him to ask. “Help,” she stresses, “just help.” She reaches out again.

His amulet warms up and Derek frowns. Is she trying to cast some kind of spell on him?

His phone buzzes. He snatches it up. He’s aware of Laura doing the same on the other side of the table. He frowns at the message.

“Mom?” asks Laura.

Derek nods.  

Laura sighs. “We’ll take my car.” She looks at Julia. “Has Mom asked you to attend an urgent meeting at the house?”

Julia retrieves her phone from her purse. “No.”

“Well, in that case, we’ll see you when we see you,” Laura says. “You should really get back to Alaina anyway.”

Derek places the money for the food on the table, shoots Julia an apologetic look, and sidles past her.

“That was weird, right?” asks Derek when they’re safely in Laura’s car.

“Weird,” Laura huffs as she starts the car. “She stinks of arousal around you all the time. You’d think me and Sam warning her off would have been enough to get her to back off.”

Derek blushes fiercely.

“Frankly, getting away from her is another reason why you should go with Stiles,” Laura says.

“Laura…”

“I’m just saying,” Laura pulls out of the parking lot onto the main road.

It doesn’t take them long to reach the house.

They both frown in unison at the large black SUV parked outside.  Neither of them recognise it. Cora’s car is parked beside it which means it’s likely she and Scott are inside too.

Laura’s fingers tap restlessly on the wheel. “Come on.”

Derek lets her take the lead as they walk into the house.

They walk in and Derek freezes at the scent.

Laura wrinkles her nose. “Someone’s wearing too much perfume.” She turns to him and places her hand on his arm. “Derek?”

“Sorry,” Derek shakes himself. Kate is dead. He’s fine. She’s dead and she can’t hurt him or his family any longer.

Laura keeps herself in front of him as they through to his mother’s study as though she’s a protective shield. He wants to protest but the hairs on the back of his neck are prickling.

They can hear voices.

Scott sounds cheerful and admiring? There’s a woman Derek doesn’t recognise; the deep voice of a man beside her.

They step into the room and the conversation stops as everyone turns to look at them.

His parents are in front of the hearth, tense but not afraid.

A dark-haired young woman sits in the visitor’s chair, with the man standing behind her like a guard. She stinks of the perfume.

Scott stands to the side of the visitor’s chair, a friendly smile on his face which drops at the sight of Derek and Laura.

Cora is perched on the front of the desk.

“Alpha?” Laura asks sharply. “What’s this about?” She tosses her dark hair over her shoulder, narrowly missing Derek. She’s poised, Derek realises, like she thinks the two visitors are a threat.

His mother smiles tightly. “Thank you for bringing Derek, Laura. You can go. The Argents just want to talk with Derek and…”

Everything turns to white noise.

Derek’s gaze snaps to the woman.

He sees it immediately. The shape of the face. The smile. The scent.

She’s just like Kate.

He’s running before he even makes the conscious decision to run. He bolts through the front door and into the Preserve…

He shoves off his coat, throws away his t-shirt and…transforms.

His last secret.

His wolf, his inner form which he had found in exile, in that last desperate run home…

Derek doesn’t think. He runs.

He just runs to safety, to his anchor.

He runs to Stiles.

o-O-o

Stiles is staring at the murder board.

Justin Post, the latest victim, was a veteran of the United States Army. He’d lost an arm in Afghanistan. He’d lived rough in an alleyway downtown, his only shelter a cardboard box. The cops would sometimes pick him up on bad nights and take him to the shelter, but he’d wander back.

He was the first Warrior in the knot to die.

And if Stiles and the Beacon Hills Sheriff’s department don’t find the witch who is sacrificing people, he won’t be the last, Stiles thinks morosely.

There is a sudden scrabbling sound at the door which yanks Stiles’ attention away from the photo of a smiling Post in his uniform that Stiles has been staring at for minutes.

Stiles heads to the door and cracks it open carefully.

His mouth drops open as a huge black wolf darts through the space.

Stiles blinks at the wolf.

The wolf paces the room and flashes blue eyes. A glint of light catches the amulet that the wolf is wearing around his neck…

“Derek?!” Stiles squeaks.

The wolf whines and drops down to lie on the floor.

Stiles quickly closes the door. He hurries over. He crouches beside the wolf and reaches out a tentative hand. “Derek, dude! Look at you!”

Derek moves and suddenly Stiles is sprawled on the uncomfortable concrete floor with his arms full of wolf. Derek’s wolfy head is lodged under Stiles’ chin.

He’s trembling, Stiles realises. He holds Derek closer, shuffling and rearranging them to sit more comfortably up against the wall. He strokes a gentle hand over Derek’s back.

“It’s OK,” Stiles says quietly. “It’s OK.” He starts talking, because talking is what Stiles is good at and he can do it all day.

His phone buzzes incessantly with texts; there’s a call. He has a feeling whoever is trying to contact him, it’s probably a Hale.

Something happened, Stiles thinks. Something happened to trigger Derek into being a wolf. Somehow, he doubts that it was brunch with Laura.

Derek huddles even closer suddenly. Stiles simply holds him, continuing to talk through the murders and his theories. How he doesn’t think it is Morrell because he can’t find a link to her and Post. How he’s widened the search out and he thinks the virgins all had tutors outside of the school. But Post is different, and he can’t find a string between him and the virgins which sucks because then he can’t find a suspect.

There is a cautious knock on the door which silences Stiles.

His father pokes his head in. His expression melts from worry to relieved concern, easing the lines and the pinched brow. He slides into the room and closes the door.

“The Hales are in my office,” his Dad says bluntly. “Christopher and Allison Argent followed them in.”

Derek shudders.

“Derek came here for safety,” Stiles says.

His Dad nods. “He has it.”

Stiles pats Derek’s head. “Hey, Big Guy? Can you let me up so I can go with my Dad and get rid of them?”

Derek whined low in his throat and places more of his weight on Stiles as though to keep in place.

“I’ll be safe,” Stiles continues, ignoring the lump in his throat. “Dad won’t let anything happen to me, and we both won’t let anything happen to you. You can stay here, in this room, safe and sound.”

Derek shakes his head.

“We can do this together,” Stiles offers. He really doesn’t want to because he wants Derek safely away from whatever triggered him to go full wolf.

Derek’s weight shifts and he rolls off Stiles to stand. His blue eyes flash at Stiles’ Dad.

Stiles scrambles to his feet and places a hand on Derek’s head. “Come on then.”

They all walk out of the small room, down the corridor, and into the Sheriff’s office.

It’s a large room, but it suddenly feels small, crowded with the Hales standing by the window and the Argents on the other side of the room with Scott hovering in the space in-between.

Stiles stands by his Dad’s desk, Derek sits beside him. Stiles sets his hand on Derek’s head and glares at the Hales, stopping them from approaching even as his Dad positions himself between Stiles, Derek and the rest of the room as soon as he gets the door closed.

“Talia, I’d like explanation,” his Dad orders.

Talia looks weary. There are unusual dark shadows under her eyes and the lines that bracket her mouth and eyes seem deeper. Her outfit of jeans, t-shirt, and plaid overshirt looks less put together than any he’s ever seen her in.

“As you know we have a parley tomorrow night with the Alpha pack,” Talia says, crossing her arms over her chest. “I received a call from Marie Argent two days ago, offering their assistance. Their only caveat was that they wanted a meeting with Derek.”

“Of course they did,” Stiles snarks. “They couldn’t just help because the Alpha pack are a shitload of rogue Alphas? Aren’t rogues supposedly why Hunters hunt in the first place?”

He sees that hit with both the Argents in the room.

“Derek, honey,” Talia takes a step forward.

His Dad puts a hand up and she stops. “Derek is under the protection of the Sheriff’s department.” He looks over at Allison Argent. “Why do you want to speak with him?”

Allison is a pretty brunette with bright sparkling brown eyes, and an athletic figure shown off in black skinny jeans and leather jacket. Stiles doesn’t have to look at his former friend to know Scott is drooling. Not literally, because gross. But drooling.

Her chin comes up. “I wanted to confront him about the lies he told which led to my aunt dying in prison.”

Talia glares at her. “You told me that you wanted to understand what happened! You didn’t…”

“She didn’t phrase it in a way that she knew you’d refuse,” Stiles’ Dad speaks before Stiles can. He folds his arms over his uniform shirt. “Because you might as Derek’s Alpha ask your beta to take part in an uncomfortable discussion to help with a potential alliance, but you would never as Derek’s mother allow the family of the woman who abused him interrogate him.”

Talia flinches.

Richard takes a step and puts a hand around his wife’s arm. He looks coolly at the Argents. “I think we’re done here. The Sheriff’s right. We will never agree to that.”

“I’m sure Allison didn’t mean that she would be interrogating him, Richard,” Scott jumps in, “just asking him a few questions and…”

“Enough!” His Dad states firmly. “Derek will not be subjected to any questioning by the Argents about his experience, Scott.”

“He lied about my Aunt and got her killed in prison!” snaps Allison.

Behind her, Christopher Argent ducks his head.

“No, he didn’t,” Stiles answers before his Dad. He tangles his fingers into Derek’s fur. “I was the one who uncovered the evidence against Kate. Derek actually had little to do with it. He never even gave a statement until she was already arrested by the FBI.”

There is a flicker of doubt through Allison’s dark eyes. “But…”

“Cora and Scott asked me to find Derek,” Stiles continues harshly. “I started looking into the fire because Derek was sent away straight after. I found evidence ranging back before the Hale fire to a blonde woman named Kate, always gaining a job at the local school, always seducing an underaged member of the local werewolf family, and then a fire which annihilates the family.”

“That can’t be…” Allison begins.

Her father places a hand on her shoulder.

“Derek was lucky, he realised what was happening and called the cops on her. My Mom called your Great-Aunt Marie and Kate was ordered to back off,” Laura cuts in. “He saved us.”

Stiles nods. “The FBI caught Kate in the act doing the same schtick with the Carrow pack out in Colorado,” he says with disgust. “John Carrow was only fourteen!”

Derek whines and presses close to Stiles.

Allison blanches. Her hand goes up to her throat to a necklace. “She was my Aunt.”

“She was a psychopath,” Stiles retorts.

“That’s enough, Stiles,” Scott steps forward.

Stiles ignores him and continues to glare at her. “I don’t think it is when she came with the intent to terrorise one of her Aunt’s victims!”

“He’s not innocent,” Chris speaks for the first time. “The only reason why Kate targeted him was those blue eyes of his. Do you know what those mean? They mean he killed an innocent.”

Stiles shifts his gaze to the older Argent. “Here’s what I know about that because I investigated it along with the fire.” He strokes a hand over Derek’s head reassuringly. “Derek was dating Paige. She was his first love. His Uncle Peter was a bag of shit and tried to convince Derek that she’d never really love him unless she had the bite. Talia refused to give it, unsurprisingly because teenagers fall in and out of love.”

“That’s…” Chris tries to interject.

“Only Talia wasn’t the only Alpha in town because Gerard Argent had agreed to meet with Deucalion and some of his allies to agree a new peace treaty,” Stiles continues in a hard tone. “Your father lured them in and decimated them, blinded Deucalion. One of those Alphas went by the school and bit Paige who was waiting for Derek. Paige started to reject the bite, so the Alpha ran off. Derek found Paige and called his Uncle for help. Peter took them into the Preserve and left them while he lied saying he was going to get help.” He waves at the Argents. “Tell me, what do Hunters do if you come across a human rejecting the bite and in agony?”

“We do a mercy kill and put them out of their misery,” Chris says grimly.

Talia looks over at her son with wide eyes. “Derek…I never knew. Peter…” her eyes close briefly before she opens them, and they flash red. “He lied. Of course he lied.”

Derek whines.

“We didn’t know,” Allison says softly.

“Well, now, you know,” Stiles says, staring at the Argents, “so you can get the fuck out and leave Derek the hell alone.”

Scott growls.

“Are you going to let your son speak to us that way?” Allison demands, turning to Stiles’ Dad.

His Dad raises his eyebrows. “I don’t agree with the language, but with the sentiment?” He nods. “He’s right. You came here to terrorise a victim of your Aunt’s because you could, because there’s a situation that you thought you could exploit. You’re done.”

That’s his Dad, Stiles thinks proudly.

“You can get out of my office and leave Derek Hale alone,” his Dad states bluntly, “and if you’re not here to genuinely offer help to the Hale pack for their dispute with Deucalion, I suggest you leave Beacon Hills.”

“Hear, hear,” Laura mutters.

Allison’s cheeks are fiery red. She turns and walks out, slamming the door dramatically.

Scott flushes. “She didn’t…”

“Shut up, Scott!”

Both Cora and Stiles speak in unison.

Stiles shoots Cora a quick look but she’s glaring at the back of Scott’s head. She hurries forward, grabs Scott’s arm and drags him out.

The door closes.

“I am so sorry, Derek,” Talia says.

Derek presses closer to Stiles.

Talia bites her lip and looks directly at Stiles himself. “You’ll take care of him?”

Stiles nods.

Talia glances at her husband and they leave quietly.

Laura sighs in the wake of their departure. She holds up a shopping bag. “Your clothes, Derek. I picked them up.” She drops the bag on the leather couch. She stops in front of him and crouches. “Look at you! You managed a full shift like Mom! I’m so jealous and when you can speak again, I want you to tell me how you did it. OK?” She reaches out carefully, but Derek pushes his snout into her hand and accepts her pets without issue.

She smiles, rubs his head fondly and stands up. She gives Stiles and his Dad a nod of acknowledgement and leaves.

His Dad pats Stiles on the arm before he goes, closing the door softly behind him.

Stiles sighs and looks down at the wolf. “You want to stay in wolf form?”

Derek huffs and transforms.

Stiles shamelessly admires Derek’s muscular form as he pads to the couch and grabs his shirt from the bag. “Your pants stay on and transform with you?”

Derek shrugs. “Most of the time. They’ve shredded completely a few times.” There are streaks of red along his cheekbones. “Thank you for, uh…” he gestures weakly at Stiles, “for standing up to the Argents and saying what you did about Paige.”

“You never have to thank me for that,” Stiles says. “The Argents were way out of line.”

Derek snorts. “Scott doesn’t think so.”

“Scott’s an idiot,” Stiles says.

“He is,” Derek says.

Stiles considers him seriously. He could let it go at that, but that’s never been Stiles’ style.

“Are we going to talk about this?” He waves a hand between them.

Derek’s eyes meet his. “Do we need to right now because I think I may know who killed Jordan Post?”

Stiles’ mouth drops open. “You know who killed Post?”

“Julia lives in the same building,” Derek says urgently. “She tutors at the school and for people online.”

“Like Jeremy,” Stiles beams and points at him. “You were listening to me!”

“I always listen to you,” Derek ducks his head. “But she, uh, also made my amulet heat up?”

Stiles’ eyebrows shoot up. “Right,” he says, “she tried to magically whammy you. Let’s go make sure she can’t do that again.”

o-O-o

The parley seems anti-climatic after Julia’s arrest ends with Derek and Stiles hiding behind the Sheriff’s patrol car as she tries to lob flames at the Sheriff and Jordan.

Jordan goes full Hellhound, walks through the fire, and ends it.

Derek had barely listened to her villain monologue which had something to do with getting vengeance on Kali for leaving her to die.

The official report says she ended up having a heart-attack in the middle of resisting arrest.

Derek stands in front of Stiles who is at the back of the pack in the old warehouse where they’ve agreed to hold the parley.

Stiles is surprisingly calm.

Malia and Alaina are beside him. Peter’s daughter and Peter’s widow have a close relationship. Malia loves being the big sister to Alaina’s son, Ben.

On the other side of Stiles, Jackson stands with Erica and Scott.

Cora and Jake stand beside Derek.

They are behind Lydia, who has accepted the position as the new Emissary, their father and Laura, the Right and Left hands of the Pack.  Jordan is guarding all the children in the Sheriff’s office.

They are all prepared for treachery.

His mother stands in the centre of the warehouse. Her black jeans and black jacket give her an air of menace.

The Alphas arrive in a flurry of squealed breaks and slamming car doors. Deucalion has his arm tucked into Morrell’s as she leads him to his place. Behind them, Ennis and Kali take positions, snarling at the Hales. Yasmin and the twins stand behind them.

Deucalion tilts his head as he fingers his cane. “A banshee for an Emissary? That’s an interesting move, Talia.”

“Deucalion,” Derek’s mother says politely. “I find I have had my fill of duplicitous magic wielders.”

“My condolences on the loss of your former Emissary,” Deucalion offers with an insincere smile.

Derek sees Kali flinch.

“I’ve found having them swear their service on their magic keeps them honest enough,” Deucalion continues.

Morrell steps back from him.

Deucalion stands there, his sightless eyes unerringly looking towards Talia. “You wished for a parley?”

“When you came to me and asked for a place to meet with Gerard Argent, what did I say to you?” His mother begins.

“That he would betray me,” Deucalion answers easily. “You told me that I couldn’t trust him and that if I met with him, it was at my own risk, that you would not risk your pack.”

“Why then are you here seeking reparations?” she asks pointedly.

Deucalion tilts his head. “I don’t come to ask for reparations, I come to offer a gift, Talia. Argent set me free. I gained more power after I lost my sight than before it.”

“You killed your entire pack.” His mother does not bother to hide her disgust.

“And received their power in return,” Deucalion counters.

“And this is the gift you offer me?” She shakes her head. “You would have me kill my pack and what? Join with yours?”

“As my lover as you once were before Richard,” Deucalion says. “With the Hale power added to mine, we would rule.”

Derek’s eyes flicker to his father, but his father does not react to the proposition.

“Over whom and what? If you keep killing your betas, there is no pack.”

“Why do we need werewolves when there are humans?” Deucalion says.

Derek hears Stiles snort behind him and he wills him to stay silent.

His mother stares at the other Alpha. “You are truly mad.”

Derek has never been prouder of his mother, of his Alpha.

“Are we not stronger than them? Are we not better than them?”

“I will not join you, Deucalion. Take your pack and leave Hale land. I will give you only one warning.”

“You think to order me?” Deucalion growls. “Me?! I am the Demon Wolf!”

“You are omega,” his mother says. “I brand you such as the Alpha of this land, of this pack. I name you all as omega. You are undeserving. You are no Alphas.”

Deucalion snarls, transforming into his beta shift and…

His mother simply shifts into her wolf form and launches at him. She takes him down, aiming straight for the throat.

The other Alphas rush forward and…

Lydia takes a step forward and screams.

Derek ducks as arrows fly through the air as the Argents make themselves known.

Ennis roars and rushes across the warehouse, batting away the arrow with a sweep of his meaty arm. He’s heading straight to Stiles and…

Derek shifts.

He won’t let Ennis harm another person he loves. He sees Ennis’ startlement as Derek lunges at him.

The fight is ugly.

Ennis manages to throw Derek across the room and…

Stiles is suddenly there with a baseball bat.

It breaks against Ennis like it is nothing more than kindling. Ennis wheels around to hit Stiles…

Derek intercepts him, tearing his arm off with a furious snap of his jaw, dropping it only to take advantage of Ennis’ shock…his teeth close around the Alpha’s throat…

Power rushes through Derek like lightning. He shakes under it, but there is no time to adjust. He scrabbles to his feet. He has to protect Stiles…who is facing down Chris Argent with nothing more than his wit, placing his own body between the hunter and Derek.

“ENOUGH!” His mother’s voice echoes through the warehouse.

Silence falls.

Chris Argent glances over to his daughter who nods. They lower their weapons.

His mother strides into the centre of the room and stares down the three remaining live Alphas from Deucalion’s pack – the twins and Yasmin. They’re all bloodied and from the scent of it, one of them has been shot with wolfsbane.

“I offer you the same as I offered your former leader,” his mother says. “Leave and never return to Hale land.”

Yasmin bows her head. She and the twins limp out of the warehouse.

Morrell is gone, Derek realises. He wonders when she left.

His mother walks over to the Argents. “What was your purpose here?”

“We came to help,” Allison responds.

“She saved my life,” Scott chips in.

“And yet your father once again threatened my son,” his mother almost snarls the words.

“I’ve seen new Alphas kills indiscriminately in the first moments of their power,” Chris says defensively.

His mother shoots him a look of disbelief. She turns back to Allison. “You will leave. Hunters, and especially Argents are not welcome in Beacon Hills.”

There is a short staring match before Allison nods.

“And Argent?” Stiles says sharply. “Any of you go after Derek again and I’ll start investigating every single thing each of you has ever done.”

Derek pads over and sits beside his human. Stiles pets him absently.

Allison presses her lips together, but she nods again. Her eyes find Derek’s. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”  She turns and leads her group of Hunters out of the warehouse.

His mother approaches him cautiously. “Derek?”

His eyes flash red at her.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” his mother promises him. She looks at Stiles. “Can you see him home?”

“Hey, if it gets me out of cleaning up this,” Stiles gestures at the bloody mess they’ve made of the warehouse, “I’m all for it.”

Derek follows Stiles out. He jumps in Stiles’ jeep and lets Stiles’ ramble about the disappearing Morrell calm his heated blood, the electricity of the Alpha spark chasing through his muscles.

By the time they’re walking into the kitchen of the Stilinski home, Derek feels settled into his skin again.

Stiles grabs a bottle of beer. He looks at Derek, clear-eyed and direct. “I know you took down Ennis so he wouldn’t hurt me.”

Derek does his best to shrug in wolf form.

Stiles sighs and gestures with his bottle. “I’d feel better about having this talk with you if you were, you know, in a human-shape.”

Derek feels a jolt of nerves. He knows what Stiles wants to talk about. He remembers Laura’s confidence and hopes his sister is right. He transforms back.

Stiles holds his gaze. “I’m your anchor.”

He’s got bravery for days, Derek thinks, half in awe of Stiles’ courage. And suddenly he wants to meet him half-way.

“That’s not all you are to me,” Derek manages awkwardly.

Stiles’ eyes widen. “No?”

“No,” Derek says quietly.

Stiles starts to smile. “That’s not all you are to me either.”

“I know,” Derek says.

Stiles’ gaze narrows on him. “You can’t just…”

Derek takes a step forward and kisses the words out of his mouth.

It is without question the greatest kiss Derek has experienced.

Stiles clumsily puts the bottle down on the counter so he can use both hands to tug Derek closer.

They get a little lost in each other.

When they ease back, Derek finds that one of his hands is tangled in Stiles’ messy hair and the other is under his shirt, touching his back.

“I guess you can do more of that,” Stiles says a little breathlessly.

Derek finds himself smiling. He drops another kiss on Stiles’ lips. “Can I have you, Stiles?”

“Yes, absolutely,” Stiles agrees immediately, “you can have me all the ways you want me, and…”

Derek kisses him again.

“Good talk,” Stiles says, giddily.

Derek thinks so and kisses him again.

He knows they really do need to talk. He needs to tell Stiles to take the FBI offer, and that he’ll go with him wherever he goes. But that’s for tomorrow. They’ve prevented Julia from murdering anyone else, helped his mother take down the Alpha pack. He’s an Alpha now and all he and his wolf want to do is to kiss Stiles for the rest of the night ahead.

fin.