The bite hadn't even fully healed before Stiles' eyes were flashing a dangerous red. A red that matched the blood that soaked his clothes and stained his hands. A red that matched the color of the torn flesh of the body in the opposite corner of the warehouse. Stiles looked at his hands and watched as the claws, his claws, slowly retracted back into the skin, leaving only his normal, human nails behind. He continued to stare, hoping the blood too would disappear. It didn't.

Raising his head, he looked up at his friends, eyes searching for some kind of comfort. He found fear and confusion and a scope of other emotions, but no comfort. Finally his eyes settled on Derek's shocked expression, seeing his own fear and confusion behind it. What little strength was left from the adrenalin and his new wolf-y powers drained from his limbs with that look.

"I- I think I'll just go home now." Stiles sputtered, hoping his disappointment didn't show on his face too much. Scott tried to reach out to him as he made his way to the jeep, but Stiles just brushed his hand away. He needed time. He climbed into the jeep and drove off. No one tried to stop him.

Despite everything- the Alpha pack, the kidnapping, the bite, even him killing another living being -Stiles couldn't help but think about how pissed his dad would be about the damage he'd done (well, the Alphas had done) to his jeep. The thought brought a near hysteric laugh to his lips. An instinct made him look at his speedometer where he noticed he was speeding. Instead of totaling the jeep more by speeding down the rain slick roads, Stiles lifted his foot off the pedal that he hadn't realized he'd been lead-footing.

Pulling into his driveway, it only fit his luck today that his dad's cruiser was sitting in its usual spot. It goes to show how far done he was with this day that he barley hesitated a second before jumping out of the jeep and making his way to the front porch. His dad was on him before he even got the door halfway open.

"Stiles, I have been really patient about this so far, but I am about at my wits end with- Bloody hell! What happened?!" The sheriff's eyes grew wide as he took in the sight of his son covered in blood with slashes running down every part of his body.

Stiles gave him an empty smirk as he made his way to the stairs and collapsed on into some ordinance of a sitting position. "It's not mine." he assured his father. "Well, not all of it." he corrected as his fingers brushed over where one of the gashes were still healing before his eyes.

"I should have seen this coming," his dad said catching him off guard. His father took a seat next to him on the stair and pulled him into a hug. "I should have made you tell me what was going on. I should have- I should have done something to-"

Stiles was stunned. Stiles pulled back out of the hug to look his dad in the eyes. "I want to tell you why I've been lying so much lately," saying the first thing that came to him. He had never meant to cause his father any pain. He knew he'd been making his father worry, but this was something he'd been hoping to avoid. This blame his father was feeling, Stiles knew how it felt, and the only thing he'd wanted was to spare it from his dad.

"What?" he asked, taken off guard, a perplexed look on his face.

"The reason I've been lying to you for the past eight-odd months, I want to tell you everything." Stiles focused his gaze on his dad daring him to contradict him.

"Stiles, I- um, yeah. That'd be great, but isn't there a more pressing matter at the moment?" he said eyeing the red stains covering the majority of Stiles' tattered clothes.

"Um, no. That's pretty much taken care of," Stiles stated doing his best to avoid looking his dad in the eye. He could see the cogs working away in his dad's head at what the possible applicability of that phrase could be. Stiles held up a hand as if to physically stop that train of thought from going any further. "Look, I have a lot to tell you, but I'd rather not do it covered in-" he gestured to himself, not quite willing to acknowledge what it was that was covering him. "Plus, I'll need Scott and Derek here to help explain a few things. We'll get through this somehow, I promise. Just- just give me some time to get my head together, ok?" Stile threw his father a pleading look to which the man's glare finally relented to a kind of forceful acceptance.

"Fine, but only on the condition that when you are done you tell me everything. And I mean EVERYTHING."

"There is nothing that I would like more," Stiles said honestly as he made his way up the stairs in the direction of the bathroom.

Stiles took as long as he could in the shower, rubbing his skin raw to rid himself of the guilt as much as the blood. Out damn spot, Stiles quoted morbidly in his head.

Eventually, though, he had to leave the shower and as he did he caught a glimpse of himself in the half fogged mirror above the sink. The wounds that had torn his skin were all but healed and even the raw red-ness from the shower was slowly ebbing away before his eyes. He could feel the damage of the heat and scrubbing being undone. It made him want to claw at his skin until it came off, until it wasn't his anymore, but he knew it was useless.

His eyes were drawn to the one wound that still stood out stark among the rest; the faint crescent indents of the teeth right above his collar bone. Stiles turned away from the mirror and headed across the hall to his room.

If Stiles stood still and listened he could hear his father in the room below him, his heartbeat erratic and pacing steady. It was a strange feeling, like he was listening to things he shouldn't hear.

In an effort for any distraction, Stiles grabbed the phone off his desk. He flipped it open and speed dialed two. He grabbed a shirt and pants while the phone rang and clicked as someone picked up.

"Hey, Scott. I need you to come over for a bit. I need your help with something."

"Yeah, sure. Be right over," Scott said quickly before hanging up.

Stiles hung up before pressing speed dial three and waiting as it rang. When it went to voice mail, he just let out a "Damn it, Derek" before hanging up and trying again.

There is a knock at the door not five minutes after Stiles hung up on Scott. He's still trying to reach Derek, but to no avail. It seems that Derek even went as far as to turn off his phone. His dad answered the door for him because he had not allowed Stiles to get up since he had come downstairs after getting out of the shower.

"Have you gotten a hold of Derek?" Stiles called from his place on the sofa.

"He isn't answering his phone," Scott replied, holding his phone up as an example, before joining him on the couch as his dad took up the chair he'd been sitting in before.

Stiles nodded, picking up where he left off before Scott's arrival. The next few hours were filled with demonstrations of wolf-y transformations, near heart attacks, logical arguments of the existence of supernatural creature (werewolves and others), and detailed stories of the past eight-odd months.

Everything from the night in the woods they'd gone looking for the body and Scott had been bitten up to and including when the Alpha pack had arrived in town and how they were responsible for all the murders lately because they were trying to get Derek's attention.

"So when that plan went utterly to shit, they decided 'hey, let's capture the human.' And then they did, this morning after you went to work." Stiles took a breather, reflecting on that last statement. Had it really been just this morning that all this had happened?

The day had started out like any other weekend. Stiles came downstairs and made his dad and him breakfast before the sheriff had to get to the station. The breakfast had been quite even, because this too had become normal. Where once the two had shared yesterday's happenings and plans for the day now they both ate in silence, both holding back the questions and stories they were dying to say.

Several times his dad had laid down his fork and opened his mouth as if to start the conversation they both knew was coming, but each time he had closed it again and resumed eating. Finally, it was time for the sheriff to leave and Stiles walked him to the door.

"I won't be home until about seven," he said.

"That's alright. I was planning on hanging out with Scott today anyways; might stay the night." The 'again' was left unsaid, but it was heard by both parties regardless.

"Any chance you want to tell me what 'hanging out' entails?" the sheriff inquired, but Stiles only gave him a knowing smile saying that they both knew that today, right now, was not going to be the time for this discussion. "Yeah, didn't think so," he mumbled.

His dad had barely made it out of the driveway before Stiles had his phone out. "Yeah, Derek, my dad just left, I'm on my way. Did Lydia find anything in the bestiary that could help us?" Stiles asks as he searched the living room for his hoodie.

"Not yet," answered Derek. "Scott says that Deaton gave him some information."

"Great! What is it?" Stiles asked enthused that they'd gotten anything.

"I don't know," Derek growled, obviously annoyed. "But he didn't want to tell me over the phone so he's on his way over as well."

"Cool, I'll meet you guys over there in a bit. In fact call Lydia; she'll want to be there too," Stiles adds, opening the door and stepping outside.

"You call her. I'm not a damn owl Stiles," Derek grunted

"Oh my god, was that a Harry Potter reference? You just made a pop culture reference. I'm so proud of you."

"Just Hurry up and get over here."

"Keep your socks on Sourwolf. I'm on my way."

Derek grunted an affirmative before hanging up

"My little caveman," Stiles says affectionately as he yanks the door to his jeep open. There was a sudden flash of pain and then he passed.

Now Stiles is clumsy. There is a lot of evidence to support this. Although to be fair a majority of his injuries of late have more to do with werewolves than his own limbs. The current situation seemed to be no exception. As Stiles blearily opened his eyes he found a group of five or six people in front of him. As he blinked a few more times all the people finally came into focus as one extremely attractive Indian woman grinning widely at him.

"Oh, great, you're alive. I was beginning to think that my friend here had hit you too hard." The woman gestured over her shoulder to a tall, blonde muscle-man that was almost as big as Derek. "But I'm really happy you're alive." The way she said that made it apparent that dying earlier would have been a better option. Unfortunately, that no longer seemed to be a choice. Damn. "Humans are so fragile," she continued. "You have to be careful about how you handle them."

Stiles checked his limbs for any bonds, but they were surprisingly free. Of course, you'd have to be a pretty big fool to try and make a break for it with this many Alpha werewolves surrounding you. Argumentably, Stiles was not known for his great decision making. The world was starting to come back into focus a bit more, so Stiles decided to try out his voice.

"Yeah, that's us squishies for you; always causing trouble for you wolf folk," he rasped out. He badly needed a drink of water.

"Oh, I like him," said a voice to his left.

"He's got spirit," chimed in another voice.

Stiles turned to address the two new people, but stopped when he was suddenly seeing double again. No, not seeing double, twins. There were two twin Alphas leaning against the wall to his left. How two twins both got to be Alphas was probably a really interesting story, but before he was able to ask, he was interrupted.

"This is pointless." The Muscle-man growled impatiently.

"Right," Stiles agreed. "So how about you get to the point of this encounter and do what you villains do best and spill your great master plan. So, why exactly did you kidnap me? Am I bait? Leverage? Are you just trying to send a message? Come on. What's your end game here?"

The woman gave a deadly smile. "Yes," she agreed "A message would do quite nicely. But, we need a way to ensure that it gets delivered."

Her smile grew to a whole new level of evil. She looked like she could pass as the reincarnation of the Hindu Goddess Kali. Before his eyes the woman's teeth elongated, her face transformed into something more beast than human and her eyes took a fire-red feral glow to them.

"You don't pull that off as well as Erica," was Stiles' smart-ass response before he was lifted out of his chair with a sharp growl.

A sharp pain shot through his shoulder as the female Alpha sunk her teeth into the soft flesh of his shoulder. He was thrown on the floor unceremoniously. While he lay there in pain he felt the wolf within him waking up and his eyes were drawn to the single source of light for the room. Through the busted out windows of the probably abandoned warehouse Stiles glimpsed the moon, round and swollen. Stiles felt a swell of power that pulled him to the moon and sent a wave of uncalled for relief through him. A howl tore through the warm night, sending a chill up his spine. It was howl of victory.

The heat of another body appeared over him and a voice whispered in his ear. "You shall learn the call of your Alpha."

A new rage caused blood red to wash over the silver light of the moon. Instead of the calming song of before, the moon now called out egging him on; a silent chant of 'kill, kill them, kill them all, kill.' A roar ripped through his chest, animalistic and raw, as he grabbed the throat of the wolf right next to him.

"I already have an Alpha," he growled and ripped their throat out with his teeth. The red was already starting to absorb into his eyes as he stood to face the other Alphas that were staring at him in shock that soon dissolved into anger. Stiles, still high on his power boost, cracked his neck and threw them a smug grin.

By the time Derek and the rest of the pack got there it was almost too late. The other four members of the Alpha packs had circled around Stiles and backed him into a corner. He was bleeding from several large cuts all over his body. As Derek's pack burst through the door, all four of the other wolves turned to look at them. They too weren't in good shape. All of them were sporting injuries of some sort, because Stiles was not the type to go down without a fight. The Alphas, knowing that taking down one wolf was not as easy as taking down a pack and already weakened with their battle before, decided to make a strategic exit.

"You think this is over!" one of the men called. "Not even close."

They were gone within seconds, vanishing through broken windows and out the back door leaving Stiles by himself, eyes still glowing a bright Alpha red. Slowly he stood to face them, still watching his hands. He was covered in blood from head to toe, the blood dripping down his forearm and his chest from wounds that were still gaping, not yet healed, but on their way. The body of the dead Alpha lay not ten feet from him, but Stiles wouldn't even look in that direction. Instead he raised his eyes, the startling red draining out leaving his normal amber color, to meet that of his packs (if they were still his pack at this point, Stiles wasn't quite sure how this worked out yet) searching for some form of comfort. He didn't find it, their expressions a mix of disbelief and shock. Even Jackson wasn't wearing his usual sneer.

"I-I think I'll just go home now." he stated, voice shaking and eyes darting away. Aside from a brief moment with Scott, none of the others tried to stop him. Stiles drove away unhindered.

The pack looked to Derek, waiting for him to say something. "Scott, follow Stiles," he said eventually. "Make sure he doesn't do something...tragic." The Alpha turned to the remainder of his pack. "The rest of you, with me, we have some Alphas to catch."

Meanwhile, Stiles' dad was hysteric. "They kidnapped you? From our front yard? In broad daylight?! How did no one report this?!"

"Wolf-y superpowers," Stiles says wiggling his fingers in an attempt to demonstrate how werewolves have magic powers. "Look it's not the first time and it wasn't even as bad as the time with-"

"Not the first time?!" the sheriff interrupted. "Not as bad? Do you even hear yourself right now?"

"Yes dad, I do, but I've come to the realization that this is my life and I will do what I can with what I'm given," Stiles said calmly.

"This is your life? It sounds to me like you could have left at several points in the last few months," his dad present logically, if not still very loudly. "You could have left at any time. Why didn't you?"

"Well, I-" And...that was a good question. Stiles had always believed it was because of Scott. After all, Scott would have been held back several times already if it wasn't for him. How could he have possibly managed the whole werewolf thing on his own? But then there was Derek. The tall, brooding, reluctant-to-trust, emotionally-constipated Alpha. Surely, if Stiles hadn't been there Derek would have been.

In fact, a lot of problems might have been solved if Stiles had left. Scott might have joined Derek's pack. Jackson may have never found out which would mean no Kanima. Who knows, maybe if Scott would have joined Derek, he wouldn't have gone after Isaac, Erica, or Boyd. So, why didn't he leave it alone? The answer was simple, and selfish; because he was Stiles and when he saw a sleeping bear he couldn't let it lie, he had to poke it with a stick.

Stiles looked up at his dad and realized he was still waiting on an answer.

"I never left because I believed they needed my help," he finally said. "Not that it matters now, anyway," he added.

"Ahh, right," his dad said. "I have a feeling we're getting to the part of why you came home this evening covered in blood."

"Right, so as I said they knocked me out and kidnapped me and brought me to this old warehouse. I woke up and-" This time a shrill ringing cut him off followed by a vibration from the phone in his pocket. "I am never getting through this story," he mumbled to himself as he flicked the phone open.

"Y'ello," Stiles greeted the blocked number. He had learned long ago that unknown numbers were usually the pack calling from some unregistered phone or something. Unfortunately this was not the case.

"Yellow is a color not a greeting, Stiles," greeted Deaton's voice on the other end of the line.

"Ah, Deaton. How are you? I didn't even know you had my number."

'Deaton?' Scott mouthed and his father was shooting him a look that said the same thing. He offered both of them a shrug since truthfully he was as baffled as the both of them.

"Oh, I have my way," the vet said in his usual super calm, mystery voice. "Anyways, I hear you have yourself in a predicament of your own. That the Alphas were giving you a little trouble and that resulted in a bad mishap. Want to tell me about it?"

"Honestly, I have no idea how you could have possibly have heard that." Stiles huffed indignantly.

Oh, I have my way," he repeated in that 'I have a secret' tone he uses so often.

"Right, I was about to tell this story to my dad anyway," he said as he switched his phone to speaker. An experienced ear would probably be a welcome companion to this conversation, and since Derek was nowhere to be found Deaton would have to do.

As Stiles re-told the tale he was stopped only a few times to explain something to his dad or give more details to Deaton. Other than that, it didn't take long to reach the end of his story.

"The thing that gets me," he was saying in conclusion, "is that Derek said that if you kill the Alpha that turns you, that you turn back. So, was the information false or am I just an anomaly in every species that I become a part of?"

"Well," says the doctor, "that depends on a few factors. I could very well be that you are an anomaly, but it's unlikely. As for the story, I have no basis for comparison, so I can't really tell you. Right now I think the most important thing that needs to be asked is, in all the confusion, are you sure you killed the right Alpha?"

Stiles was about to supplies automatically that yes, of course he was sure, but he hesitated. He remembered how out of sorts he'd been almost the entire time since he had woken up. He'd been punched in the face, thrown around, and there had been major blood loss accompanied by a new surge of power from the bite. By the time he had ripped the Alphas throat out he'd been blinded by rage. And the voice he'd heard 'whispering' in his ear may have been across the room for all he was accustomed to his new senses. And After. After, Stiles had been so abashed by what he'd done that he could hardly look in the same direction of the body. So, could he be really sure that he'd killed the right Alpha? Stiles let out a groan that sounded more like a growl even to his own ears. Out of the corner of his vision, Stiles saw his father shift uncomfortably in the chair.

"I'll take that as a 'no.'" Deaton's voice came over the speaker. "I'll look into this legend that Derek was talking about, but I suggest in the meantime, you find some way to confirm your own story. I'll get back in touch with you when I have something."

"Right, thanks Deaton," Stiles said before pressing the 'end call' button and putting the phone back into his pocket.

"So," the sheriff said standing up, "I think I need a drink after all this."

"I think we all do." said Scott glumly.

"Wouldn't help." Stiles reminded him. "We can't get drunk anyways."

"Well, at least one thing good came out of all this," the sheriff mumbled and Stiles couldn't help a small grin at that. His dad sighed and seemed to process some of what he had been told over the course of the night. "So, Werewolves?" he asked Stiles.

"Yup." Stiles nodded.

"And you're one of them now?"

"Seems like it."

"Right, beer," his father said before making his way out of the room. At least somethings don't ever seem to change. Stilinski men with nerves of steel, nothing shakes us. Not even mythological creatures that could possibly maim you living in your house.

"You know," his father called, making his way back to the living room. "I think Melissa had it easier when she found out. At least her son didn't come home covered in blood for her to find out."

"Yeah," Scott pouted, "she just got forced into a hostage situation by a maniac controlling a lizard creature and had to watch her son be shot and then turn into a werewolf. So much easier."

"Point made," the sheriff said, obviously remembering the whole situation (or at least what he remembered before being knocked out), "there is no easy way of finding all this out."

"Maybe we'll set up a date between you two, so you can have some kind of 'My kid's a supernatural being' group therapy thing." Stiles said getting up and stretching his stiff muscles. "But right now it is-" Stiles eyes found the nearest clock "Shit! It's like four in the morning and you, dad," he gave the man a pointed glare, "have to be to work in less than two hours. Go. Upstairs and to bed with you, Scott and I will clean up down here." Stiles nodded his head in the direction of the stairs to emphasize the point. This earned him a put upon look from his dad, but he went up to bed anyways. Stiles figured he had a lot to work through and probably wouldn't get much sleep anyways, but it made him happy to see him go. "Hey dad," he called before the man was half way up. The sheriff stopped and looked down at his son. "I just wanted to say, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to keep all this from you, or for so long. It's just one thing lead to another and I just-"

"-found yourself in a deeper hole of lies each time you tried to tell me the truth?" he finished for him. Stiles nodded. "I'm just happy you finally told me and I guess I can see why you kept some things from me," he conceded. "But son, ever lie to me again and you will be grounded until you're old enough for social security," he added threateningly.

"Fair enough." Stiles smiled as his dad made the rest of his way upstairs and to his room.

There wasn't a lot to clean up so instead of getting right to work, Stiles decided to ask Scott a question that's been nagging at him for a while. "Scott," he said, getting the boy's attention "What was it that you had to tell Derek this morning? About the Alpha pack? He said that you said it was too important to say over the phone."

"Oh, yeah. When I got to Derek's he said that we should wait for you and Lydia, but you didn't show up and Lydia showed up an hour later and said that you'd never called and Derek was frantic at the time and had all of us out looking for you so I never actually had the chance to tell anyone." Scott was babbling and now Stiles knew how everyone else felt when they just wanted him to get to the point. He made a mental note to try to do that less. "So, anyways," Scott continued, "Deaton and I think we may have found out why it was that the Alpha pack was here in the first place!" Scott beamed brightly like a proud puppy that had finally done a trick right.

"Aaaannnd?" Stiles prompted.

"Oh, right. They were here to test out how Derek was as an Alpha and possibly recruit them to their pack. They were here to assess the strength of the pack and see if it would be worth it to fight us for the territory, but also to assess how Derek was as a leader. Apparently, the Alpha pack preys on new packs to expand their own gain. Each of the Alphas have a pack of their own, but there's also an Alpha to the Alpha pack."

"Kind of like a higher tier on the Alpha food chain or something?" Stiles asked.

"Yup," Scott confirmed with a quick bob of his head. "He's the one who organizes them."

Something the Alphas said right before they disappeared rang through Stiles mind. 'You think this is over? Not even close!' Stiles' mind was already working out how he should process the new information it's been given.

"Scott, I think we should both get some rest now," Stiles said, standing up again. "It's been a long day and I don't think the following ones will be any shorter." He offered a weak smile to his friend as he lead him to the door.

"Yeah," Scott agreed, stifling a yawn. "We never do catch a break do we?"

"No, not really." He waved goodbye to his friend from the door way and watched him run off down the street towards his house. "We never seem catch a break ever." He repeated to himself before shutting the door and making his way up to his own room and collapsing on the bed.

So, Stiles is a werewolf, his dad finally knows everything, and a pack of angry Alphas are headed back to Beacon Hills only after they go get an even stronger Alpha. Yeah, seems like a typical Saturday for Stiles and the gang to me. I'm just wondering how Stiles is going to deal with all his new wolf senses. Or more importantly how I'm going to write it?