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I don't own the characters of Teen Wolf. I claim no rights to anything connected to the fandom.

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Even a man who is pure in heart,
and says his prayers by night,
may become a Wolf when the Wolfsbane blooms,
and the Moon is Full, and Bright.

- Van Helsing (2004)

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Derek raised his head when he heard the sound of a familiar car coming to a stop in front of the old Hale house. He frowned and walked out in time to see Stiles come out of his Jeep. His frown deepened when he saw the bruise on Stiles' face and the cut on his lip.

Stiles didn't walk closer to him.

He didn't move away from his Jeep.

He simply stood there with hands in the pockets of his red hoody, and his cinnamon eyes focused on Derek.

"What are you doing here?" Derek asked, and Stiles snorted.

"You know what?" he said, and started to move forward. He looked into the darkness of the forest before looking at Derek again. "I'm tired of people constantly asking me that."

Derek frowned at him. "What are you…"

"Would you shut up for a second?!" Stiles snapped, and Derek glared at him.

"You're not welcome," Derek growled, and turned his back on Stiles.

"I didn't know, damn it!" Stiles cried out, and Derek stopped in his tracks. "I didn't know Scott's plan! For fuck's sake, I really thought he joined your Pack, Derek!"

Derek looked at Stiles over his left shoulder. The teen's heart was beating fast, but he wasn't lying. It was because he was angry.

He was also deceived.

He was also tricked by Scott.

Derek swallowed, and his jaw tightened. "What are you doing here, Stiles?" he asked, but this time he didn't sound angry. He frowned when the wind blew towards him from Stiles' direction, and Derek smelled something different.

He looked at Stiles and saw the teen looking to the side. Stiles eyes were filled with tears he obviously didn't want to cry; or maybe couldn't. If Derek concentrated, he could smell a faint trace of blood.

If he looked closely he could see a slight shiver to Stiles' body that had nothing to do with ADHD or the chill of the evening.

"I..." Stiles started but choked on words. He tried to look at Derek, and the Alpha frowned when Stiles looked away. He never looked away. He always looked in everyone's eyes. "I didn't – I didn't know where else to go," his voice broke, and Derek turned around to face Stiles fully.

"What happened?" Derek asked, and stepped down on the first step. Stiles bit into a chapped bottom lip, and squeezed his eyes tightly shut. Derek could smell the rising panic. He could hear Stiles' heart picking up speed.

"I – I can't..."

"Stiles, what happened?!" Derek snapped, and took a few steps forward. "Stiles!"

"Stop!" Stiles screamed, fell on his ass, and crawled back until his back hit the car. "Don't shout! Damn it!"

Derek rushed over, and kneeled in front of Stiles. "Stiles!" he snapped again, and the teen covered his ears with his hands. "Damn it!"

The scent of blood grew stronger, and Derek caught a whiff of something else; a scent that wasn't Stiles'. A scent that was too musky, too impure to be Stiles' and Derek's heart stopped.

"Fuck..." He growled.

Stiles was sobbing as tears streamed down his cheeks. He was shivering in fear, and choking on air, and Derek didn't know what to do.

"Stiles..."

"Please stop," Stiles whimpered, and pulled back even more. "Please, stop it. Make it stop hurting. Make it stop!" Derek reacted on impulse, and grabbed Stiles' shoulders. "No! Let go! Please! I don't know! I don't know anything!"

"Stiles, calm down!" Derek shouted as he pulled the struggling teen to his chest. He barely managed to cross Stiles' arms over his chest with his own arms over them to stop Stiles from hurting himself.

"Please! Stop it! I don't know anything! Please!"

Derek growled as his heart ached. "Damn it."

He cursed Scott McCall.

He cursed Gerard Argent.

He cursed himself, and the world.

"You're safe, Stiles," he whispered in the teen's hair. "You're safe. Calm down," he spoke in a steady tone, holding the crying teen to his chest.

Derek looked up and found his uncle and Isaac standing a few meters away from the car with a few bags around their feet. Isaac look terrified while Peter looked at Stiles with sad eyes.

"What happened to him?" Isaac asked, and Derek looked at Stiles. The teen calmed down a bit, but he still seemed unaware of where he was. Quiet whimpers escaped full lips, and tears still trailed down pale cheeks.

"Gerard Argent and his men," Peter spoke in a low growl. Derek swallowed and took a deep, calming breath.

It didn't work.

"Where is Scott?" he growled, and Stiles twitched.

"He went after Allison and her dad," Isaac said. "He said he needed to talk to her."

Derek had to try hard not to curse again. Stiles was just starting to calm down. His heart started to beat more normally, and his breathing evened out slowly.

"We need to get him somewhere safe," Peter said, and Derek looked at him.

"There's no such place."

"His house?" Isaac suggested, and the two older werewolves looked at him.

"His dad doesn't know," Peter warned, and Derek looked at Stiles who seemed to have fallen into tormented sleep. Derek swallowed difficultly, and gently picked up the sleeping teen.

"He'll find out soon enough."

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Peter looked at Derek when the Alpha covered Stiles with a blanket he found on the couch. They were in the Stilinski house, and they were waiting for the Sheriff to come home.

Isaac was sitting in an armchair beside Stiles' head. He was holding a small hand towel, and he was gently tapping it against Stiles' forehead. "Was he…"

"Yes,." Derek said before Isaac could voice his doubts.

All three of them smelled the dried blood. All three of them smelled the dried semen. All three knew without voicing it what Stiles lived through.

"What will we tell his dad?" Isaac asked.

"The truth," Peter said, and Derek looked into his eyes. "We will tell him everything we can without hurting Stiles."

"And what then?" Isaac asked, and Peter shot him a sad smile.

"Then we hope he doesn't shoot all three of us," Derek muttered. He looked at Stiles when he whimpered, and took a seat beside him.

"He's in pain," Isaac whispered, and Derek nodded.

He gulped as he pushed Stiles' hoody and shirt up only to feel rage blossom in his heart when he saw the dark purple bruises on Stiles' stomach and ribs.

"Damn it," Derek muttered.

Isaac's eyes widened when Derek gently placed his right hand on Stiles' ribs. The teen whimpered in pain, and tried to pull away, but failed. Derek frowned in concentration, and Isaac gasped when black veins started to spread up Derek's arm. He lived through further shock when he saw Stiles' bruises actually starting to fade.

"An Alpha isn't only able to take the pain away," Peter explained quietly, and Isaac looked at him. "If he wants, an Alpha can heal the injury just as easily as he can inflict it." Isaac nodded and looked at Stiles again.

Derek moved onto the next bruise. It just started to heal when the front door opened and the Sheriff walked in.

He stopped in the doorway, shock clearly written over his face. He looked at his son and the three werewolves heard Sheriff's heart stop the moment he saw the bruises Derek didn't have time to heal. They smelled the instant worry turned to rage, and Derek looked at John with eyes flashing red.

"Don't. Shout," he growled, and John's breath hitched in his throat.

"What the hell..."

"Take a seat, Sheriff," Peter said, and stepped away from the window. "And please don't shout. Your son passed through something horrible, and he needs rest. Derek is doing what he can for him."

John looked as though he was weighing his options. Derek looked at Stiles again, and placed his hand back over the bruise he was healing. "What are you..."

"He's healing Stiles," Isaac explained, and John frowned at him, bile rising in his throat at the sight of black veins climbing up Derek's arm.

"I didn't – did those kids do this to him?" John asked, and looked at Peter who raised an eyebrow at him.

"Kids?" he asked. "Oh no, Sheriff. I don't know what your son told you happened to him, but maybe, after you sit down, we could start explaining what's going on, hm?"

John looked at Stiles again. He took a seat heavily, never looking away from Stiles' tormented expression. "What's going on here?" John asked weakly. "Why did Derek's eyes flash red, and how – how is he doing this?"

Peter smiled at John reassuringly, and took a seat in an armchair.

John's breath hitched in his throat when Peter started to shift, eyes turning blue. He shifted back, and smirked at John's bewildered expression. "Well for one, we are werewolves. Derek is our Alpha, and you, my dear Sheriff, don't even know just how big of a hero your son is."

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"So – so let me summarize," John said after Peter finished recounting everything that had happened in the last year. He swallowed, took a deep breath, and exed the drink Isaac thrust into John's hand sometime during Peter's story telling. "10 years ago Kate Argent killed your Pack."

"That's right," Peter said, and John nodded weakly.

"The only ones who survived were Derek, Laura - whom you killed - and you." Peter smiled a sad smile, and John continued. "You were the Alpha that turned Scott into a werewolf. Then you were killed by Derek, and he became an Alpha. He then turned Jackson Whittemore - who didn't become a werewolf but a kanima - Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd, and Isaac."

"So far so good," Peter said, and John glared at him.

"My son's been helping Scott since the get go. He lived through one dangerous situation to another, saved each one of your asses at one point or another, only for all of you to allow him to be taken by Gerard Argent and his family - who are hunters - who are, as much as I understand, supposed to protect humanity from werewolves, but instead they tortured an innocent boy, kidnapped two children, held them hostage, because Derek bit one of them when she tried to kill Scott."

"You've missed a few crucial points but that would be correct," Peter stated, and John stood up only to start pacing.

"We're not the bad guys here, Sheriff," Isaac spoke softly.

"I think I can make that conclusion on my own, son," John said. "Although I'm not too sure about you." He pointed at Peter who sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Something I have to live with until I prove myself," He muttered with a suffering note.

John snorted and ran his fingers through his hair. "So today you killed the kanima and Jackson became a werewolf. Erica and Boyd are missing, and Scott is where?"

"He went with the hunters," Isaac pressed out through his teeth. There was a clear note of betrayal in his voice, and John felt his heart reaching out to the kid.

"So instead of checking up on his friend Scott went with those who cooked up all this," John concluded, and snorted. He looked at Stiles and pain shadowed his eyes.

Derek managed to heal most of Stiles' wounds. He could heal all the physical ones, but John knew that there would be mental scars. Mental scars John wasn't sure even time would heal.

"Your son is strong," Peter said ad John looked at him. "Trust me when I tell you that he is not only strong but very brave as well. He stood up to me when I was crazed and bent on revenge without thinking twice about what I could do to him. He saved Derek by holding him above water for almost 3 hours. His quick wits and big heart saved all of us at one point." John snorted, and looked at them with bitterness in his eyes.

"Yeah?" he asked. "Well, why didn't one of you save him?"

"Because I thought Scott cared," Derek joined the conversation finally, and everyone looked at him. "I thought Scott would be smart enough to conclude that just because he had a deal with Gerard didn't mean that Stiles was safe. He knew Stiles worked with Isaac, Boyd, and Erica. He knew Stiles was involved. He knew Stiles couldn't protect himself. I thought…" Derek stopped, and swallowed, "I thought he would know that Stiles needed protection. I thought Stiles was part of Scott's Pack. If I'd known…"

"If you had known, would you have saved him?" John asked, and Derek looked at him.

"I would have made sure he wasn't taken in the first place," Derek said, and John frowned. Derek's eyes were filled with rage, and yet behind it John could see worry. He could see how lost the young Alpha was. He could see the guilt Derek felt.

John sighed, and placed his hands on his waist. "This is one hell of a lot to take in," he muttered, and raised his right hand to rub his lips.

"You should sleep on it," Peter suggested, and John looked at him dully.

"D'rek?"

The four of them looked at Stiles. His eyes were hardly open, his voice was raspy, and he sounded broken.

"I'm here," Derek said, and placed his right hand on Stiles' forehead. "You're safe."

Stiles blinked sluggishly.

"It's Derek's power," Peter whispered to John. "For some reason Stiles responds to Derek like a Beta would to his Alpha. An Alpha can force a healing on anyone, but it worked surprisingly well on Stiles. It seems Derek's presence makes him feel safe despite everything Stiles has lived through."

John nodded although a bitter taste was in his mouth. It hurt; the fact that his son didn't believe him enough to tell him what was going on. He was supposed to protect his son, not the other way around.

"D'rek?" Stiles called weakly, and John looked at his son.

"Yes?"

"Could you – could you check up on my dad?" John's throat closed up, and his eyes filled with tears. "I didn't tell him anything. I – he doesn't know what happened. Could you just…"

"Your dad is fine, Stiles," Derek said. "Sleep. You'll see him in the morning."

"Really?" Stiles asked, and Derek snorted. Isaac smiled lightly while Peter hummed with a small smile tilting his lips. "I'm happy he's a Sheriff again, you know? I almost told him everything. I almost put him in danger by telling him about you. It's enough I know. Normal humans aren't supposed to know."

Derek frowned and looked at Isaac who was frowning as well. "Why do you think so?" Derek asked.

"Because we only get in the way," Stiles muttered. His eyes were closing and he was obviously falling asleep. "I know that. I always get in the way. I'm only human. I can't protect anyone. Can't help anyone. Couldn't help mom. Couldn't help dad. Couldn't help Scott. Couldn't help Lydia."

Derek's ground his teeth together tightly and brushed his right hand through Stiles' hair.

"D'rek?"

"Hm?"

"Thanks." Derek's eyes widened with shock. "Thanks for caring enough as not to leave me in the woods." Derek swallowed over a lump in his throat. "I know you don't think so, but you're a good Alpha. No matter what Scott says, you're a good guy. You've always been the good guy."

Derek's throat closed up, and he placed his right hand on Stiles' left shoulder to give it a reassuring squeeze. "Sleep, Stiles," he whispered. "We'll talk when you feel better."

"M-kay…" Stiles muttered, and his breathing evened out as he fell asleep again. He was still frowning, but at least his breathing was easier, and he seemed to be asleep for real.

Isaac looked at Derek with confusion on his face, Peter was smiling knowingly, and John simply observed everything. His mind was loaded with questions, and he knew the only one who could answer them was Stiles.

"We should all get some rest," Peter suggested, and looked at John who cleared his throat.

"One of you can take Stiles' room, and we have a guest bedroom if all of you are staying," he said.

"I'll stay with Stiles," Derek spoke up. "Isaac, take Stiles' room. I'm sure he won't mind."

"Alright." Isaac stood up and walked out of the room after he nodded at John and Peter.

"Don't you need rest?" John asked, and Derek spared him a glance.

"I'll stay with Stiles in case he needs me," Derek said, and John nodded.

It hurt. It hurt that this kid knew what his son needed better than John did. For the thousandth time John asked himself what he did wrong. He thought he paid enough attention to Stiles considering he was working almost nonstop. 'You just answered your own question, you idiot.' John's lips stretched into a bitter smile.

He didn't pay enough attention to Stiles. He was never home. He worked a dangerous job.

And Stiles.

Sweet, strong, smart, kind-hearted Stiles.

John's little boy.

His son.

He grew up faster than he was supposed to.

He constantly worried about John, made sure John didn't drink, that he ate right, slept enough.

He could assume why Stiles didn't tell him anything. He could assume why he lied to him.

"John?"

He looked at Peter and the werewolf placed his left hand on John's left shoulder.

"You'll talk to him tomorrow. Come on. We're all tired."

John nodded, and looked at Stiles again. He walked over, and threw Derek a glance before he kneeled beside Stiles' head, and kissed his son's forehead. "Sleep well, son," he muttered, and stood up. "Call me if you need me. I doubt I'll sleep well tonight."

Derek nodded. "I will."

Once they were gone Derek looked at Stiles' sleeping face. He had healed most of the bruises on the young teen. The only ones remaining were the ones Derek couldn't reach without moving Stiles and risking waking him up, the one on his face, and his split lip. Derek started to raise his right hand only to stop when Stiles whimpered. Derek covered Stiles' left hand with his right, and the teen took a firm hold of it.

The Alpha looked at their joined hands, and something in him clenched.

He never noticed how elegant Stiles' hands were.

He never noticed how fragile they looked.

Derek raised his left hand, and gently touched Stiles' bruised cheek with the back of his fingers making Stiles frown in his sleep. "Shhhhh," he whispered before he realized what he had done.

Derek's heart clenched when Stiles stilled immediately and sighed. The bruise disappeared slowly, and Derek looked at the small cut on Stiles' lip. He moved until he kneeled beside the couch, his right hand still firmly clasped in Stiles' left, and looked directly at Stiles' face.

It was funny actually; in a strange way at least.

Stiles always looked larger than life.

He always defied all logic.

He always stood proud.

If Derek were to be perfectly honest, he envied the younger man.

Stiles never doubted his actions. He never questioned his decisions. He wore his heart on his sleeve, and did his best even when the situation seemed hopeless.

'Can't you trust me this once?'

Derek snorted. He rested his chin on his left arm after he placed it on the couch, with eyes focused on Stiles' face. Whether Derek wanted to admit it or not, if there was anyone he trusted more than he trusted himself it was Stiles.

Scott's betrayal didn't hurt as much as the thought that Stiles of all people betrayed him.

Even though Derek has never shown it he knew - he simply knew that Stiles was a better man than any of them.

Scott was too involved with Allison to see further than his own nose; his own selfish needs.

Isaac, Boyd, and Erica?

Well, Isaac at least stayed even after Scott walked over him; just like he had walked over everyone else.

Heavens knew where Boyd and Erica were.

Peter? He had yet to prove he was trustworthy.

Derek doubted he could count on Jackson and Lydia. The two were too independent - too stubborn to come to him.

Now that he thought about it, Stiles was the only constant in Derek's life ever since he came back to Beacon Hills. Derek could always count on the teen to be there when Derek needed him, no matter how Derek treated Stiles. 'Laura would laugh her ass off at this,' Derek thought and snorted, a smirk tilting a corner of his lips.

"D'rek…" Stiles breathed out in his sleep, and Derek's eyes focused on those full lips.

There was a part of him, a very small, deeply buried part of him that wondered why Stiles whispered his name while asleep. Derek swallowed, taking a deep breath.

Stiles' scent was tainted now. It wasn't that pure scent of freshly cut grass and spring rain anymore, and it bothered Derek. It bothered him in ways that shouldn't bother him.

'Why?' a voice in the back of his mind whispered. 'Why shouldn't you be bothered by it? Others touched him.They hurt him.They broke him. You should be out there hunting them down like the animals they are!' Derek frowned at his own thoughts, and concentrated on Stiles' closed eyes. Long brown lashes rested on pale, indrawn cheeks.

Derek didn't even notice that Stiles lost weight. His cheekbones were slightly more accented than Derek remembered. He wondered when it happened. Stiles didn't look like that when they'd first met. His cheeks were fuller, and those lush lips were a slightly darker color.

Derek wondered when Stiles has started losing weight.

Was it before they faced Peter?

Was it when the kanima appeared for the first time?

Was it before or after he and Derek were trapped in the swimming pool for 3 hours?

Was it when Stiles realized his best friend was keeping secrets from him?

Did Derek have anything to do with it?

Or was the stress of having to lie to his father too much for the young man?

'He's not so young.' That voice whispered again. 'He may look young, but on the inside he's already old.'

Derek frowned. He hadn't even realized he had been rubbing gentle circles with his thumb into Stiles' left hand that was still holding on to Derek's right as though it was a lifeline.

Derek focused on the steady beating of Stiles' heart and on the slow rise and fall of his chest, and with his mind full of questions Derek fell into restless sleep.

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Stiles woke up slowly to sounds of quiet talking. He took a seat only to realize a few facts.

First, the pain that he had felt yesterday was almost all gone.

Second, he was home.

Third, he had no idea how he got home.

Last thing he remembered was going to Derek's. For what reason, he didn't know. He just knew his dad wasn't home and that he couldn't be alone. He simply couldn't.

Which brought him to the fourth fact.

It was Saturday.

On Saturday his dad worked the afternoon shift.

Which means his dad was home.

Which also means, that if Stiles wasn't wrong (and he would recognize Derek's and Peter's voices anywhere) his dad was in the kitchen, talking peacefully with Derek and Peter Hale.

Stiles gulped.

He knew what that meant.

He just didn't want to admit it.

He didn't want to accept it.

He stood up and winced at the pain in his lower back, and tried to walk towards the kitchen without limping. He stopped in the doorway, and gaped at the image of his father, Peter, and Derek sitting at the table with each one of them holding a cup of coffee.

"Stiles?"

His dad looked at him only to frown in worry when he saw the bewildered expression on Stiles' face.

"I'm dreaming, aren't I?" he murmured, and John snorted.

"You're not dreaming, Stiles. Come here. Peter and Derek told me a lot of interesting things."

Stiles' heart skipped a beat, and he looked at Derek. "You didn't…"

"Stiles," John interrupted him, and Stiles turned to his father, looking as though he was ready to bolt, "calm down. I'm hurt, but I'm not angry with you. I understand to a point. Come here so we can all talk, alright?"

Stiles licked his lips and walked over to the table. He took a seat, wrapped his arms around his waist, and focused on a smudge on the wooden table.

"Do you want something to eat?" John asked, and Stiles shook his head.

"Not hungry," he muttered, refusing to look up. The three older men exchanged glances. Stiles looked so small and delicate at that moment. There was not a trace of the defiant, sarcastic, snarky teen they all knew.

"Stiles…" John sighed, and Stiles dared spare him a glance. "Son, first I'd like to apologize."

Stiles raised his head in shock. "For what?"

John smiled sadly. "For thinking that I was doing a good job of being there for you. I realize that I have failed you in that aspect, and I'm sorry."

"Dad, you didn't…"

"I did. I allowed you to think that you were supposed to take care of me, that you were supposed to worry about me and protect me, when I was the one who was supposed to take care for you, worry about you, and protect you."

Stiles bowed his head again, and sunk lower in his chair. John looked at the two werewolves and they nodded, disappearing from sight before John could blink. He sighed and stood up.

Stiles tensed up when he heard the scraping of the chair against the wooden floor.

John frowned when Stiles flinched away from him. He steeled his resolve, placed his right hand on Stiles' left shoulder, and kneeled beside his son. "I love you, Stiles, and I'm sorry. I am really sorry for failing you, son."

"You didn't fail me, dad," Stiles whispered brokenly. "You've never failed me."

John swallowed difficultly, and quickly made a decision. Stiles tensed up when John wrapped his arms around him, pulled Stiles out of the chair and onto floor, and hugged the trembling boy tightly. "We'll get through this together, Stiles. I swear to you. We'll catch them all. We'll fix everything. Just don't shut me out anymore, son. Please. Let me be there for you."

Stiles gasped, and wrapped his arms around John in a desperate hug. "I'm sorry, dad! I'm so sorry! I'm sorry for everything."

John squeezed his eyes tightly shut, and buried his nose in Stiles' hair. "It's okay, son. Everything will be okay," he muttered. "Everything will be okay."

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"What's our next course of action?" Peter asked.

They were all sitting in the living room of the Stilinski house. Stiles was in an armchair in a new set of clothes, washed and cleaned, but with knees pulled up and arms wrapped around his legs.

John was seated on the left armrest of the armchair occupied by Stiles. Derek and Isaac were on the couch. Both looked surprisingly relaxed, especially Derek, and Peter was being his usual sassy self while sitting in the second armchair with legs crossed and fingers stapled in front of his mouth with elbows on the armrests.

"Does either one of you have any idea what the hunters have planned?" John asked.

"Gerard didn't die. We can be sure of that," Derek spoke up. "He's hiding somewhere, licking his wounds."

"I doubt he'll have many allies willing to work with him now," Peter said. "As much as I understand even Chris has finally seen Gerard for the monster that he is."

Stiles nodded. "Chris will want to hunt him down," he muttered. "He's a threat now. Scott…" he choked a bit on his once best friend's name and winced, "Scott will probably work with him and Allison on hunting Gerard."

"Should we look for Erica and Boyd?" Isaac asked.

"I don't know where they went after Chris set us all free," Stiles answered. "They may have run in the opposite direction."

Derek was about to say something when the doorbell rang. The werewolves looked at the doorway with matching frowns.

"Now this is surprising," Peter muttered as John stood up.

"I'll take that," he said, and left to get the door.

"Who is it?" Stiles asked, and looked at Derek who had an expression of slight surprise on his usually scowling face.

"Trust me. You'll be just as surprised as we are," Isaac said although Stiles could see some excitement on his face.

In that moment John came back in followed by none other than Lydia and Jackson who stopped in their tracks when they didn't only find Stiles there, but the three werewolves as well.

"Did we miss something?" Lydia asked with a raised eyebrow. "I thought Stiles was with Scott." She looked at Stiles who winced and pulled in on himself even more.

"Why don't you two sit down so Derek can tell you everything?" John suggested. "You want some coffee?"

"I could go for a cup," Lydia accepted and took a seat in the last free armchair. Jackson kept looking at everyone with hesitance written all over his face.

"No one will bite you, Jackson," Isaac teased with a smirk.

Jackson looked at Isaac before turned to Stiles again. Their eyes met for a second before Stiles looked away from Jackson and started fiddling with the seams of his pants. "You're different," Jackson commented, and Stiles tensed up.

"I'm not," He bit out, and Jackson frowned.

"Jackson!" Derek interrupted whatever the captain of the Lacrosse team wanted to say, and Jackson looked at the Alpha. "Take a seat. We'll tell you everything we know after you tell us why you're here."

Jackson looked at Lydia and she nodded at him. He walked over to her, and took a seat on the left armrest of her armchair.

"Jackson and I talked a lot last night," Lydia said. "We know he can't survive alone. Wolves work best in Packs. I don't doubt it's the same for werewolves."

Stiles chuckled at that, and looked at Lydia. "Could have known you'd figure that out," he said, and Lydia smiled at him while Jackson frowned.

"McCall is out of question," Jackson said and looked at Derek. "You were the one who give me the Bite. That makes you my Alpha. I know I've screwed things up, but..."

"We've all screwed things up," Derek interrupted him and glanced at Stiles. John came back at that moment with coffee for everyone. "What we need to do now is fix everything."

"Why are you here anyway? I thought Stilinski was part of McCall's Pack," Jackson said, and he and Lydia frowned when Stiles winced and bowed his head, John growled, and the three werewolves looked down with pained expressions.

"We thought that as well," Peter spoke, all traces of sass long gone.

"Stiles?" Lydia spoke almost softly, and Stiles spared her a glance before he looked at his knees again. "Stiles, what happened?" This time her voice was firm, and Jackson frowned when Stiles' heart started picking up speed.

"Gerard took Stiles, Erica, and Boyd," Derek said. "He took Stiles so that he could force my location out of him, thinking Stiles was part of my Pack."

"Oh God…" Lydia whispered, and to the surprise of everyone in the room, stood up, walked over to Stiles, took a seat beside him, and hugged him.

She almost cried when Stiles flinched at her touch, but only hugged him tighter. After a few moments Stiles relaxed, and rested his head on her chest as she held him.

"Stiles came over to the Hale House yesterday. We came back here because it's not safe out there right now," Derek said.

"I suppose you know everything now, Sheriff," Jackson said, and John nodded.

"Yeah. I only wish I knew it sooner. Gerard would be behind bars already."

"There's nothing you could have done," Peter said, and John looked at him with a frown. "Hunters have connections everywhere. He would have gotten out of jail before you had the time to figure out what was going on. They are a crafty bunch, especially Gerard Argent."

"Chris Argent isn't like him though," Derek said, and looked at Stiles. "He lives by the Code. I have no doubt that he will go after Gerard."

"Will we join him?" Isaac asked, although he didn't sound overly happy with the idea.

"No." Derek shook his head. "Gerard is our problem. I have a bone to pick with him." His eyes flashed red. "We will hunt him on our own. Our way." Isaac and Peter nodded at the Alpha while Derek looked at Jackson, and the teen wolf frowned. "How come you came to Stiles?" Derek asked, and Jackson shrugged.

"It was Lydia's idea actually. She knew that if we wanted to find you we would have to talk to Stiles."

"I didn't know we would actually find you here," Lydia said, and looked down at Stiles with a worried frown. "Will you be staying here from now on? The Hale house isn't the best living place."

"They could," John said, and everyone looked at him in shock.

"Dad?" Stiles muttered in wonder, and John smiled sadly at his son.

"I want you safe, son. They can keep you safe," he explained. "There's room in the basement. We can make it more fitting to live in as long as this Pack doesn't grow more than it already has."

"I doubt it will," Derek said, and looked in John's eyes. "Thank you, Sheriff."

"It's John," the older man corrected the Alpha. "You said that as an Alpha you're supposed to protect your Pack. Do so and the two of us will get along nicely. Fail and I'll exchange the bullets in my gun with bullets filled with so much Wolfsbane you'll be shitting branches for a while." To everyone's surprise Stiles snickered at that.

"Stiles?" Lydia asked.

"What?" Stiles looked at Derek, "You should be happy. Dad usually threatens with death, not crippling."

Derek smirked, and John snorted.

"Does that mean you two are now officially part of our Pack?" Isaac asked with excitement written clearly over his face.

"As much as I understand Stiles is part of your Pack," John said with a clear note of warning directed at Derek.

"He is," Derek said in full conviction, and Stiles looked at him in surprise.

"What about you two?" John and looked at Jackson and Lydia.

"If we're accepted," Jackson looked at Derek, and the Alpha nodded.

"You are. You're my First Beta, Jackson, and something tells me you and Isaac will work great together," Derek said, and looked at Isaac who grinned at Jackson. If Isaac had a tail he would be wagging it from side to side in excitement. Jackson swallowed and nodded. It was obvious he was trying not to smile.

"Lydia?" Derek asked and she snorted.

"Stiles and Jackson are yours. I'm in."

"And so am I," John said, "but on one condition; no more secrets."

Stiles swallowed and looked at Derek. "Derek?" he asked, and the Alpha nodded.

"No more secrets," he agreed, and Stiles' lips tilted into a small smile.

"We'll need to bring our things from the Hale house," Peter reminded, and Derek nodded.

"Jackson, Lydia. You two should stay with your parents. We don't want to attract too much attention. We'll arrange it so we have Pack nights regularly, and you will have to come with me and Isaac into the forest for training."

Jackson nodded, and smiled finally. "Can't wait," he said.

"Lydia, you and Stiles will need to learn a few things as well," Derek added.

"I can teach them self defense," John volunteered. "It's not much, but at least they'll be able to run away quicker." Derek nodded at that.

"Unless Stiles is willing to reconsider his decision," Peter said, and Stiles looked at him.

"About what?" he asked.

"Uncle, don't," Derek warned, and Peter raised an eyebrow at him.

"Why not? I've told you already. I regret nothing as I regret not biting Stiles instead of Scott. Personally, I believe Stiles would be a great werewolf."

Everyone looked at Stiles when he laughed dryly. Stiles looked at Peter with an expression no one understood. It was dark and dull, and there was something in his eyes no one could define. "I may be accepted as a member of this Pack, Peter," he said. "I don't say I'm not happy about it, but I'm not werewolf material. Nothing guarantees my ADHD would disappear with the Bite, and I sincerely doubt Derek would want to deal with a hyperactive werewolf. He'd bite my head off within a month."

"You're not exactly as hyperactive as you were before, Stilinski," Jackson drawled, and Stiles looked at him with that same dark gaze.

"You're not such a stuck up son of a bitch you were, Whittemore," he bit out.

"Stiles..."

"No, dad! Stiles snapped and stood up. "You may think that you wouldn't need to worry about me anymore, but I'm talking from experience. I don't think we need another kanima in town." He stood up and made his way out of the living room. "I'm going to my room. See you later."

"What did he mean by that?" Isaac asked in a small voice. "Why does he think he'd become a kanima?"

"He thinks we don't want him in the Pack," Peter said, and everyone looked first at him and then at Derek. "He thinks we're doing this out of obligation and guilt."

"Nonsense!" Lydia snapped. "Stiles is a great guy, and he'd make a great werewolf. He's smart, and quick witted, and he obviously has more self-control than we originally thought he has."

"So why does he think we don't want him?" Isaac asked, eyes big and full of confusion.

"Maybe because you never showed it," Peter said and looked at Derek. "Now that I think about it, you my dear nephew never offered the Bite to him. You bit Jackson when he came asking. You offered the Bite to Erica, Boyd, and Isaac, and yet you never offered it to Stiles." Derek frowned at that. "I think it's quite obvious he doesn't differ much from all of us. Why didn't you offer the Bite to him?"

Derek crossed his arms over his chest with eyes focused on the tea table in front of him. "He refused the Bite from you," Derek finally answered his Uncle's question. "I thought he really didn't want to be a werewolf. He always had you to think of," he looked at John. "I don't think Scott's the only reason Stiles didn't run away from all that was happening. You were a major reason Stiles continued to throw himself into everything. He didn't want you in it because you work a dangerous job as it is. If he came asking for the Bite I wouldn't have hesitated. I know he'd be a good wolf; a much better wolf than Erica, Boyd, and Scott."

"Wow…" Peter hummed. "I think that's the most you've said since birth."

Derek glared at Peter while others laughed quietly.

"But he's not acting like Stiles anymore," Lydia commented, and everyone looked at her. She looked Derek in the eyes and glared. "What happened to him? I want to know exactly what they did to him."

"Now that you mention it," John looked at Derek, "you somehow managed to avoid telling me exactly what those sons of bitches did to my son. He flinched away from my touch this morning. He tensed up and flinched away from Lydia!" John's voice was steadily rising. "I want to know what they did to him, because if they only beat him up he wouldn't be flinching away from touch!"

"I think you know, John." Derek looked in John's eyes.

John's breath hitched in his throat when he saw raw rage and hatred in Derek's eyes. It was so potent, such a pure and searing white, hot rage that it took John's breath away.

It didn't need to be said.

It didn't need to be said, when John had seen - he had seen the way Stiles walked, the way Stiles hesitated when he took a seat, the way he winced when he climbed the stairs.

John's mind went blank and he saw red. "I want the Bite," he growled, and everyone in the room tensed up.

Derek frowned and slowly stood up. "Do you know what you're asking for?" he asked, and John looked at him. Derek knew that look. He saw it once in his father's eyes.

It was a look he would remember forever. His father had that look in his eyes when a guy broke up with Laura because she didn't want to sleep with him. He tried to force himself on her, but Laura was a werewolf. That son of a bitch didn't count on that. He didn't know what hit him.

Stiles wasn't a werewolf.

Stiles couldn't fight off several guys.

Stiles couldn't protect himself.

"I know. I want the Bite," John bit out.

"It could just as easily kill you," Derek warned, and John snorted.

"Not before I tear those sorry bastards to pieces," he growled, eyes darkening dangerously.

"Stiles wouldn't want..."

"Stiles doesn't have a say in this matter!" John snapped at the Alpha, and Derek raised an eyebrow at John. "I already said I want in on all of this. Yes, you would be my Alpha. You hadn't been the best Alpha up until now, but you're young. You have a lot to learn, and you're willing to learn, and do your best. That's good enough for me."

"What if it hurts Stiles' feelings?" Peter asked, drawing John's attention to himself.

"And what if he leaves the Pack? As much as I understand he saved your asses countless times. Whether you all want to admit it or not, you wouldn't have gotten this far without him."

"You're right about that," Derek said, and John looked at him while the others looked at Derek in surprise. He practically admitted out loud that Stiles was important to the Pack, but he also agreed that Stiles saved him more times than he cared to count. "And you're right. The way he is now, he could decide that we don't want him around, and he could leave. With you as a firm member of the Pack he would think twice before leaving."

John nodded. "He needs us. He needs all of us," he said. "He managed to jump back to normal after his mother died, but this is not something he'll manage to look over and move on. I want revenge, Hale. I want them to feel everything they put Stiles through."

"Didn't know you were such a beast, Sheriff," Peter drawled with a smirk, and John looked at him, eyes almost black with rage.

"Trust me, Peter, you've seen nothing yet." John looked at Derek again. "I said it, and I mean it. I want the Bite."

Derek nodded. "Do you have to go to work tomorrow?" he asked, and John raised an eyebrow at him.

"No."

"Tonight then." Derek said, and John' shoulders sagged a bit.

"What about Gerard?" Jackson asked. "He was in my head for some time. I know how he's thinking. He'll want revenge. He's good at hiding, and even though his son will no longer listen to him, or want to work with him, that doesn't mean he won't find Hunters as crazy as he is."

"Seems you're not as dumb of a blonde as I thought you were," Peter teased, and Jackson glared at him while Isaac snickered.

"We'll deal with that when the time comes," Derek said. "For now we have other worries." He looked at John. Before he managed to say something he tensed up, closely followed by Isaac, Peter, and Jackson.

"Is that..."

"Well, well, well," Peter muttered, and smirked. "Look what the wolf dragged in."

Lydia and John looked at the werewolves in confusion. "What are you talking about?" John asked. In that moment the doorbell rang.

"Get in," Derek growled, and John jumped in his place when he heard the door open. A moment later they closed, and Erica and Boyd walked in. Their clothes were in tatters, but they looked well enough, save for the dirt on their faces and the fear in their eyes.

Derek crossed his arms over his chest, and the two stopped in the doorway.

Heavy silence settled over the room. The two had their heads bowed, their eyes focused on the floor, and their hands fisted by their sides.

"Well?"

The two flinched. "We're sorry."

"SORRY?!" Derek roared, and his eyes flashed Alpha red. "You RAN AWAY! You allowed yourselves to GET CAUGHT! You weren't smart enough to conclude that the Argents would catch you before you crossed the borders of Beacon Hills! You abandoned Isaac! You allowed Stiles to get…"

"WE'RE SORRY!" Erica screamed and fell to her knees, while Boyd squeezed his eyes tightly shut and his jaw tightened. "We tried to get free! We tried! We did everything we could! They took Stiles to another room, and all we could do was listen! We were too weak to save him!"

"Gerard had us shackled and attached to an electric shocker," Boyd pressed out through his teeth and raised his head to look at Derek. "We came back to check up on Stiles. We know we have no right to be here…"

"Damn right you don't."

Everyone tensed up, and turned to look at Stiles who stood in the doorway with his arms wrapped around his waist. He was pale, his eyes were dull, and everyone could see the minute trembles which shook his body.

"Stiles, you should be…"

"I heard you shouting," Stiles interrupted Derek, and the Alpha shut up, knowing that Stiles was there for a good reason.

Erica looked at Stiles, kneeling in front of him. A small smile tilted her lips, but it vanished when she saw the look in his eyes.

"Stiles..."

"You betrayed your Pack," Stile hissed, and Erica flinched away from him. She bowed her head, and leaned on her arms, while Boyd couldn't even look at Stiles. "You betrayed you Alpha. You betrayed the man who gave you the chance to be more than the meager, weak humans you both were. You..."

"They tortured us, Stiles!" Erica screamed.

"They tortured me!" Stiles thundered right back at her. "All they did to you was attach you to an electric shocker; do you know what they did to me, hm?" Stiles hissed, and kneeled in front of Erica. "Do you?"

"Please, Stiles. Please…" Erica looked at him with pleading eyes. She was shaking her head as tears streamed down her cheeks. "Please, don't."

"They didn't just beat me up," Stiles pressed out through his teeth. "They raped me, Erica." Everyone in the room gasped at the admission. "Not just one of them. Gerard had all 4 of his precious pets have a turn." Stiles' voice was filled with anger, hate, self-loathing, and bitterness.

"Stiles…"

"And still I didn't tell them anything," he growled. "You were just electrocuted, and you betrayed everyone."

"I'm so sorry, Stiles," Erica whimpered, and Stiles hned. He stood up, and took a few steps back not looking at anyone.

"As far as I'm concerned you can stay," he spoke. "It all comes down to Derek. But don't talk to me, don't think of me, don't fucking look at me," with that he turned on his heel and left.

Erica whined and pulled in on herself while Boyd stood quietly by her side, his whole body shivering with shame and rage.

"I need to go to work," John whispered. "I don't know about you kids, but you screwed up big time. Derek, don't forget our deal. I'll see you in the evening."

Derek nodded at John, and the man left, and Derek looked at the two Betas. "Erica, get up," he growled, and she did so.

"I think we should go," Boyd said, and Isaac snorted.

"Running again?" he spat out, and the two flinched.

"If that's what you want then go," Derek said. "But once you leave this house, you should never come back. Run as fast as you can, because the moment you step through that door you will no longer be considered members of the Hale Pack. If you do leave, you become Omegas, and I will no longer hold an obligation to protect either one of you."

"And what if we stay?" Erica whimpered, and looked at Derek. "What if – what if we…"

"After everything you did, you still have the decency…"

"Lydia!" Derek snapped, and the strawberry blond girl glared at him.

Never the less Lydia shut her mouth and turned the glare at Erica and Boyd. "I'm going to go and check up on Stiles," she muttered, and stood up.

"Can I go with you?" Isaac asked, and Lydia smiled at him.

"Sure."

"I'm going with you too," Jackson said. "I don't feel like looking at them. I thought I was bad," he muttered, and the three left the room, leaving the two deserters alone with Derek, and Peter.

"You can stay, but I think you know how it'll be," Derek said, and the two looked at him with hope filled eyes.

"We'll do any…"

"Quiet!" Derek roared, and his eyeteeth grew a bit, eyes glowing red. "You will stay away from Stiles at all times. You won't talk to him. You won't try to approach him in any way, shape or form. You will do what I tell you, when I tell you. You will listen to Jackson, Isaac, Lydia, and Peter as if they were me. From now to until you prove yourselves, you are at the bottom of the Pack. If, and only if Stiles addresses you, you will not question him, you will do what he tells you. Am I making myself clear?"

"Yes," the two said, and Derek nodded.

"I don't care where you two will be staying, but until Stiles says different you won't be staying with us. You'll be informed when a meeting will be held. You'll be going to school normally. Even though you aren't allowed to communicate with Stiles, you will be keeping an eye on him from a distance constantly. If anything happens to him, I will hold you responsible."

"As you wish," the two answered, and Derek nodded.

"You're free to go," he bit out, and the two nodded. They left without a word although Erica hesitated at the bottom of the stairs before she followed Boyd.

"I didn't know you had it in you, nephew," Peter drawled, and Derek looked at him over his left shoulder.

"I'm the Alpha. I need to keep the best interest of my Pack in sight. They are still my Betas. I couldn't abandon them, and the more there are of us, the safer Stiles and Lydia will be."

"Stiles and Lydia? Or Stiles?" Peter stressed out, and Derek frowned. Peter chuckled, and shook his head. "You are so oblivious, Derek," he muttered.

"To what?" Derek asked, and Peter winked at him.

"Now, what kind of Uncle would I be if I told you everything?" he teased, and Derek growled.

"You would be my Beta," he pressed out through his teeth, and Peter raised an eyebrow at Derek in amusement.

"I'll do my job in training John, Isaac, and Jackson. If you send Erica and Boyd to me, I'll train them as well. You my dear nephew should spend as much time as you can with Stiles."

"He's afraid…"

"And yet he held on to your hand the whole night," Peter interrupted Derek, and the Alpha frowned. "He feels safe around you, Derek. Damn it he suffered for you. He suffered to stop Gerard Argent from finding you. He's not afraid of you. If I had to take a wild guess, I'd say he's afraid for you. Just like he fears for his father." Derek's eyes filled with confusion. Peter sighed, and shook his head. "You are still so young."

Derek glared at him. "Maybe if you stopped speaking in riddles…"

"Now, now, now," Peter interrupted Derek again and smirked. "Where's the fun in that?"

Derek rolled his eyes, and took a seat.

"Fine. You don't have to tell me."

Peter smirked.

'I'll figure it out myself.'

cut

Lydia looked at Isaac and Jackson before she knocked on Stiles' door. "Stiles? Can we come in?" she asked.

"Sure."

She heard Stiles' muffled voice, and entered his room. It was strangely clean. She looked at Jackson and Isaac again, and then at Stiles. The teen was lying on the bed with his back facing the door. The window was sealed shut, and the drapes were pulled over it tightly so no light came through.

"Stiles?" she whispered and walked over to the bed.

"I'm not good company right now, Lyds," he muttered. Lydia sighed, and toed off her shoes to the surprise of Isaac and Jackson. She walked over to Stiles' bed, and took a seat.

"Move over, you big lump," she muttered, and Stiles raised his head to shoot her a dull glance.

She pushed him lightly before she lied down, wrapped her arm around his waist, and buried her face between his shoulder blades. Stiles looked at Jackson, and Isaac with wide eyes full of questions. The two exchanged a glance, shrugged, and then proceeded to take off their shoes and jackets before they walked over to the bed. Jackson lied down behind Lydia, and threw his left arm over her only to place it on Stiles' stomach. Stiles tensed up, and a shiver wrecked his body.

"The bed's too small!" Isaac whined as he tried to find a place for himself. "A-ha!" he cheered, and grinned. He rounded the bed, and started pushing Stiles towards Lydia, until he managed to lie down, and pulled Stiles practically on top of himself. Stiles was too shocked to do anything but go with it. Isaac threw his right arm behind his head, and hugged Stiles to his chest with his left.

Stiles was as stiff as a board. Lydia threw one leg over Stiles', and Jackson did so as well, while Stiles had one leg between Isaac's, and the slightly younger teen crossed their ankles.

"Relax, Stiles," Lydia whispered, and nuzzled her face against Stiles' back.

Stiles swallowed, and closed his eyes. He rested his head on Isaac's chest, and felt the youngest werewolf rest his chin on top of his head.

No one said a word for a long while, and Jackson and Isaac seemed to be listening to what was going on downstairs.

"What did Derek decide?" Stiles asked in a small voice after some half an hour.

"He allowed Erica and Boyd to stay, but laid down some ground rules," Isaac informed him. "Basically they're on the bottom of the food chain."

"I shouldn't have been so…"

"Don't even think that," Lydia interrupted Stiles, and Jackson hummed in agreement.

"It's their fault. They never should have left," he added.

"But..."

"Stiles, don't," Lydia cut him off. "Don't try to justify them, alright? Forget about those two and focus on yourself for once."

Stiles swallowed, and nuzzled closer to Isaac. Surprisingly, this didn't bother him as much as he thought it would. He even felt somehow safe. "What did you talk about when I left?" he asked. He couldn't stand the silence. He couldn't stand it. His mind was running in circles all the time, and he just couldn't handle it right now.

"Your dad figured out what they did to you," Lydia said, and Stiles tensed up before Lydia started rubbing soothing circles in his back. Jackson unconsciously started rubbing small circles in Stiles' stomach, and Isaac was playing with the seams of Stiles' hood. "He asked Derek to turn him."

"Wh…"

"Don't move, and listen." Lydia said, and Stiles listened to her, although he was tense again. "It's what he wants. I would ask for the Bite if I knew it would work this time." Lydia said, and Stiles fell quiet, knowing there was no sense arguing with Lydia.

He was warm.

He was safe.

He was cuddled between two werewolves, and the smartest girl of their generation, of course he felt safe.

"You don't need to be a werewolf, Lyds," Stiles whispered after a few long minutes. "You're already strong enough."

Silence settle over them again with Isaac, Lydia and Jackson pulling themselves as close to Stiles as they could.

Lydia sighed, and smiled when Jackson nuzzled against her neck. She was happy. Jackson was back. He was a werewolf now, but that didn't matter. They were together again, and now they were part of a Pack.

Jackson was at peace. He finally found a place where he belonged.

Isaac was practically thrilling. Maybe now they would be a real Pack; a real family.

Stiles was slowly falling asleep. Surprisingly his mind was quiet. He shifted slightly, and winced when Lydia's leg bumped against his ass, and a shiver of pain ran up his back.

"Sorry, S..."

"It's okay," Stiles groaned. His breath hitched in his throat when Isaac pushed his right hand under Stiles' shirt. "What are you-..."

"Relax. I'm trying to make you feel better," Isaac said.

Stiles' eyes widened when he actually felt the pain going away. "Didn't know you could do that," he muttered, and everyone laughed quietly when he yawned.

"Sleep, Stiles. We'll be here when you wake up," Lydia said, and hugged Stiles tightly.

As Stiles fell asleep to their mixed scents and steady breathing, the last thing he heard from Lydia actually brought a small smile on his face.

"We'll always be here."

cut

Poor Stiles. My heart is crying for him. T-T