Title: I Can Look After My Own, Thanks
Summary: The extended Argent family is in town, it's the full moon, Chris doesn't think it's safe for little old human Stiles to be with them.

Stiles doesn't think he's particularly special. He doesn't think he's particularly gifted at many things... sure, he's smart. Book smart, werewolf smart... he certainly wouldn't call himself street smart. He couldn't hold himself in a one on one fist fight with a dude twice his size; been there, done that - his bruises were beauts. He didn't see himself as anything... more than what he was. And he wasn't... more, that is. To his mind at least.

His pack were another thing entirely.

His pack were a strange bunch; they saw him better (far better) than he saw himself, obviously. He understood the psychology behind it, naturally. It's a lot easier for someone else to see passed all your flaws and see the goodness (and sometimes greatness) inside when you're just blind to it. He gets it.

He also gets it when outsiders - those know who about his pack and about werewolves - he gets it when they see him with them. He gets that their entire dynamic seems... far fetched. He laughed in the face of his father, Scott's mom and Allison's Dad when they asked/better asked and down right told him to stay away from the pack during the full moon, before turning and walking away, back to his pack who had been waiting for him. He shouldn't have laughed, they were only worried, and he apologised later, but it was laughable to even think his pack would hurt him. They'd sooner die than hurt him.

That was something he didn't get. He got their devotion, it was just... sometimes, he didn't get that others didn't get it, if that made any sense. Chris Argent should get it. He's been working against and studying werewolves almost his entire life. He should know, but either Gerard seriously put a dampener on his education or he was ignoring what he knew because Chris wasn't paying any attention to the facts.

"I've got homework," Stiles said without looking up from the book he was trying to reference, the thumb of one hand rubbing circles into the furry paw belonging to his alpha, who was laying beside him on the floor practically flush while Scott was curled up at his other side, Isaac beside him, Cora draped over them all and Peter sat in an armchair a few feet from Stiles' head. All the betas were in their beta forms bar Peter, who's years gave him more control, and Stiles was in the middle of them all. "So say what you need to say and get out."

"You realise you're putting yourself and the rest of them in danger, right?" Argent asked and almost as one, his pack started growling. This told Stiles two things. Beyond the electric baton he was carrying, Chris was packing more, a lot more, and it made Stiles frown.

"The only danger to anyone's safety here is you. You're making my wolves antsy on a night when their emotions are amped up to the max already..."

"Your wolves?"

"In lieu of my alpha's ability to speak, I speak for him."

"Liar liar pants on fire," Peter sang under his breath and Stiles threw a pencil in his direction.

"Why don't I believe you when you say that?" Chris hummed, assessing the room and focussing on one particular aspect. "A mountain ash circle? And you're inside it?" he asked, eyes wide, grip tightening on his baton. The wolves started shifting and whining, eyes blinking open, glowing in the low lighting, each golden pair staring at Chris, Peter's blue joining them. "Stiles..." Chris edged towards the barrier.

"You enter at your own risk, but if you touch one hair on their heads, I won't even bat an eyelid when Derek," he paused and thought about it. "Or Allison comes for you..."

"I think you should leave here for the night," Chris persisted.

"Why? You got some secret ambush planned?" Stiles rolled his eyes, highlighting a piece of text and making a note of it on a piece of paper.

"Why do we have to argue about this every month?"

"Because you never learn. You've already banned Allison, even though she's an adult, you've scared Lydia off by having her keep Allison company... you tried to suck my dad into it, I don't understand you. You and your family, your code, has hurt me far more than these wolves ever have. I feel a lot safer with them than anyone else."

"So why aren't you out with them tonight? Why aren't you running?"

"Because, moron, we heard about your little family get together and didn't fancy testing how well the rest of you Argents stuck to the code you so valiantly hold dear." Stiles stopped and looked up at Chris closely. "If you've told them where we are tonight you realise you've lost Allison for good, right? She'll never speak to you again, my dad will have you arrested for facilitating mass murder... if he doesn't kill you himself, and your entire family will be taken out by the council." Chris' eyes widened and Stiles' lips twitched. "What? You thought we were just some little backwater pack with no connections? You do realise that the Hale's are as old as sin, right?"

"Harsh pup," Peter murmured and was gifted with another pencil."

"I haven't told my family where you are," Chris said calmly, but still shaken. "But that doesn't mean they won't stop looking."

"Well, you just tell them we have an in with the Sheriff, and the FBI," he smirked as Chris' expression paled some more. "Special Agent McCall is a phone call away, and even though he's a dick, he loves Scott so he's helpful."

"Are you finished?" Derek was suddenly wrapped around him buck naked, growling into the back of his neck. "Tired," he mumbled.

"Chris, you finished?" Stiles prompted before Derek got up the energy to start glaring, which would only set the betas off and wind everybody up.

"Stiles-"

"You're finished. Don't let the door hit you on the way out. Scott, Isaac..." he nudged his leg at Scott and the pair got up, stepping over the mountain ash line with ease. Chris stared, wide eyed, following the line until he saw Stiles' free hand resting near a break in the ash. "Escort the night hunter out."

"You enjoy these power trips too much," Derek muttered when Scott and Isaac were back and the ash line was rebound.

"Stupid people shouldn't ask stupid things," Stiles defended. "Now go back to your wolf form, you're a better blanket in your wolf form..."

"Gross dude," Scott groaned, burying his head in one side of Cora's neck while Isaac took the other side, both of them wrapping themselves around her comfortably.

"Can it puppy," Stiles said without heat and his blanket reformed. He glanced up at Peter, who was reading a large volume of something old. "You sure you don't wanna join us?"

"I will just before sunrise," Peter murmured quietly and Stiles nodded, yawning and pushing his books away.

"Keep watch then? I'm gonna try sleep some."

"Very well."

"Ash line broken or intact?"

"Maybe broken would be safer for tonight."

Stiles nodded again, broke the line and snuggled back into Derek's alpha form, nuzzling at his muzzle before burrying his head i the fur at Derek's neck, smiling as he heard the amused huff released. "You love it, shut up," he whispered, clising his eyes and falling asleep almost instantly.