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Stiles knew the routine.

Over the course of five years, little to nothing had changed and day after day, the teen found himself in a never ending cycle.

His day started at six every morning. His alarm would go off, his curtains would open automatically, and he'd drag himself out of bed with a groan.

His shower couldn't run more that ten minutes...most days he'd end up scrambling to get downstairs.

After dressing in the plain navy blue Beacon Hills Academy uniform, he'd walk downstairs only to find an empty table, a plate of cold food, and a white envelope.

The envelope always said the same thing; I'm sorry, see you later, be good, blah blah blah.

Stiles would take him time picking at his food until Six fourty five rolled around.

Then he'd make his way out the door and over to the black limousine that always arrived right on time.

Beacon Hills would blur by and Stiles would stare blankly ahead until BHA's iron gates came into sight.

As soon as the car door is opened, Stiles will grab his bag from his driver and walk into the building along with the rest of the crowd.

Everyday...the same damn thing.

Everyday.

It had started when his mother passed away.

His father had slowly started to take on responsibility until finally...he reached the top stop; president.

When Stiles was nine, his mother died of Cancer. Things were bad for a while...until he turned Eleven that it.

Because that year in Stiles' life is forever engraved into his memory.

It was the year he was forced to pack up and move.

It was the year his new life started.

It was the year he became America's little boy. America's pride and joy.

The year he was forced to become the perfect little boy.

"Good morning, Genim." Stiles nods a greeting to his English teacher before taking his seat at the front of the room.

Stiles hated this.

He hated his routine. He hated his image. He hated his life.

He hated feeling alone. And despite the fact that he knew his thoughts sounded completely cliché and teenage novel-ish...there wasn't any other way to explain how he felt.

One glance around the room was enough to alert Stiles of how the rest of his day would go. Just like every other day, he'll walk the halls and be greeted by random students and teachers. All day he'll do his work while being stared at. All day...he'll go about his normal, every day routine.

Stiles knew the routine.

And he wished with every fiber of his being that he could break it.

But he also knew he couldn't break it.

He couldn't because should he ever give in to his desires, he and his father would lose everything they had.

They'd be stripped of their life style and they'd end up back in a small town just like they were when Stiles' mother was still alive.

To Stiles, that idea seemed perfectly fine. To his father however...the idea was his worst nightmare.

And despite the fact that Stiles was going though hell...he couldn't take away his father's happiness.

Not for anything.

Stiles didn't want to be alone. But he wanted his dad to be happy.

And by doing nothing...at least Stiles was getting half of what he wished for.


Derek was tired.

He was tired of hearing his klan rant at him.

He was tired of being lectured.

He was tired of watching everyone find their Espozas and have their happy endings.

He was tired of being single.

He was tired of his life.

Most importantly...he was tired of searching for the perfect Espoza only to have his hopes crushed.

Derek Hale had traveled every possible way in hopes of finding his life partner.

He had searched the hottest landscapes and the darkest places...he had treaded snow, rain, and other natural obstacles all only to find that his Espoza was no where to be found.

None of the princesses understood him. None of the boys or girls could hold his attention for longer than a few minutes. And no man nor woman could give him the warm fuzzy feeling he yearned for.

No one was strong enough to lead by his side. No one was smart enough to challenge him into making the best choices.

Everyone was just...a trophy spouse.

They all feared him.

They all stood quiet and perfect at his side.

And despite that being the image of the perfect partner...it wasn't Derek's perfect image.

They weren't the person Derek's longed for.

Derek was tired. And desperate. And all around just angry.

As he looked down at the last destination on his map...he made a decision.

His fairy tale life had to be abandoned.

It was time to man up and choose an espoza before it was too late.

His last destination was his final chance.

Earth.

His Espoza would be an Earthling.


"Good Afternoon, Stiles."

"Afternoon Ms. Morrell. Is my father in?" the teen asks as he makes his way to the large desk.

"He's in a meeting."

"...what kind?"

"The important kind. The kind you can't interrupt."

"When's he getting out?"

"Soon. He'll be in a rush. I suggest not holding him back. He's scheduled to depart an hour after the meeting ends. He'll be on his way to Italy-"

"What?"

"...he's supposed to be in Italy."

"...when was I going to be told this?"

"Your father said he'd tell you himself."

"Well he hasn't. How long ago were these plans made? He promised he'd be here this weekend." Stiles frowns.

"...well...he was asked to come last week-"

"Last week? Figures." the teen mutters before turning towards the oak doors that no doubt hold his father and whatever meeting he's in.

"Stiles, you know your father is an important man with responsibilities-"

"Shouldn't one of those responsibilities be his son?" Stiles demands with a glare.

"Stiles-"

"You don't get it."

And it's with that statement that Stiles tosses every worry to the wind and storms to the double doors.

And he shoves them both open with a glare, before stomping past the utterly shocked men in order to get near his gaping father.


"You promised! You promised me a month ago that you'd be here! It's my first game! How could you?!"

Derek turns and watches an earthling storm past him without sparing a glance as he shouts at the leader of the of the table.

"Stiles-" The man mumbles softly.

"No! No more excuses! No more side stepping. No more! Do you just not care?!"

"Stiles-"

The Earthling- Stiles- he's young.

He has honey brown eyes that glisten and glint angrily and he doesn't stop screaming. He just keeps going as if his very life depended on it.

His hair is dark but not as dark as Derek's. He's wearing a suit that hugs him nicely and his skin is an unblemished milky color that catches Derek's attention.

He's attractive, especially to Derek, and he captures the man's attention like no one ever has.

"I'm so sick of this, Dad! I'm sick of all of it!"

"Stiles!"

"What?!" Stiles shouts, making Derek wince slightly at the volume.

"Turn around." the head of the table whispers.

Stiles does just that and turns his glare straight at Derek with no shame.

"Who are you?" Stiles demands as his eyes trail over Derek's figure with a frown.

"...this is Derek Hale." the head mumbles as he pulls his son to his side protectively.

"You have two choices, Earthling."

"You've said that. What are they?" one of the many men in the room asks nervously.

Derek's eyes never leave Stiles, even when the young boy looks away.

Stiles.

He's young, he's strong, and he's not afraid to voice his thoughts.

He's perfect.

He's the perfect specimen for a Ruler such as Derek and it didn't matter what is took; Derek would have him.

Because he's Derek's image of the perfect Espoza.

"You either hand him over...or I will unleash thousands of my kind on your puny planet." Derek states calmly.

"Hand who over?" The Leader demands with a furious glare.

"Stiles, was it?"

"What?" Stiles demands with a shocked look.

"No. Absolutely not. This is my son we're speaking of! If you think you can walk in here and take him away like this, you're insane! I don't care who you are!"


Stiles can't do anything but watch in utter shock and horror as Derek's face contorts in a sickly manner before the guy is growling at his father.

And suddenly Stiles is clinging to his Dad in order not to fall to the ground in complete and utter horror.

In front of him there's a creature, more animal that human, with blood red eyes and thick sharp fangs.

"...take him. President Stilinski, he has to take him!" Someone states seriously.

"Over my dead body!" his father growls back.

"Stilinski, it's one boy! One boy to save billions!" another shouts.

"I'm not going to do it! None of you would give up your children, why should I?"

"I would give up my daughter for the safety of the world!" someone growls.

" Dad." Stiles whispers when Derek begins to step closer.

"Stiles. Why don't you choose?" Stiles watches as the...thing...contorts back to the attractive man he's first seen before smiling slightly at him after speaking.


Derek couldn't believe his luck; the perfect Espoza had practically fallen into his lap! Everything he'd asked for- and on top of that, the son of this planet's leader too. Even the leaders advisors were on his side. All he had to do was play this right and everything would work out, he wouldn't have to conquer this pathetic backwater planet, he'd get a feisty little Espoza and he'd look like a generous and merciful leader.

"...what are you?"

"Come with me and all of this will be explained." Derek mumbles with that half-asses grin as he extends a hand.

"...Stiles."

Stiles turns with find his father looking down at him with wide tear filled eyes.

"I don't want to." Stiles whispers back.

"...are you really willing to be the cause of seven billion murders?!" someone screams in furry.

"Stiles?" Derek asks impatiently.

"...why?"

"It's fairly simple. And as I said, come with me and all will be explained."


Stiles doesn't have time to react before he's suddenly being shoved into Derek's arms roughly.

And when he realizes that he's being held by some monster, he's kicking and punching and doing anything he can in hopes of getting away.

And he's screaming at the top of his lungs and he's just struggling as much as he can, because he refuses to be taken away from the only family he has left. Even if that family isn't always there when he needs them.

But then he's only able to feel soft fabric slide against his cheek and arms wrap tightly around him before he's knocked out cold.


"No! Get away from my Son!"

the Head shouts after Derek manages to press the silver button on his watch. "Hale!"

It's the last thing he hears before the scenery of the office building transforms into his bedroom on the ship.

"...so it's true." Derek turns with Stiles' limp body in his arms to find Isaac staring at them with wide eyes. "Why is he red?"

"...he was shouting. Crying. Take care of him. You know what to do. I'll be in once you're done."

"Derek?"

"What is it?"

"...he's so pale."

"He's healthy."

"He's not like us."

"It doesn't matter."

"...is he really the one?"

"...he has to be. I've run out of options."

"...He's so small."

"He's an earthling. He's supposed to be."

"...does he know? Of us?"

"Somewhat. Not entirely. Leave it to me. Just prepare him for landing."

And with that, Derek leaves Stiles to be tended to.