Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf and anything you think that aren't mine.
"You've gotta be kidding me," Scott McCall muttered under his breath as he stared at the so-called mansion in the middle of the woods. Yeah. The house was big, alright. But it was hideous! It looked like it was burned centuries ago.
He looked down at the map he had on his hands and made sure he came to the right place. Unfortunately, yes. He was in the right place. Was his dad playing jokes on him? Cos he didn't drive all the way from Rosewood to Beacon Hills just to be slapped with this horrible sight.
He sighed and dismounted from his motorbike. He was already here so he'd just better go check the house out. His father seriously lived in that thing?
But just as he was about to walk towards the front steps, he heard a vehicle coming. Turning around, he saw a blue jeep with a boy, probably his age, driving it. The engine stopped and the boy then stepped out of his transportation.
"Hey!" the newcomer called, walking towards Scott and glancing up at the huge house. "Does Peter Stilinski live there?" he asked, just before he contorted a confused and disgusted expression when he realized what the house actually looked like. "Oh my God, that was a stupid question. My dad would never live in a place like this. He's a decent man and the sheriff in this town and...man, this house is creepy," he said, putting his hands on his hips and shaking his head.
"I'm sorry, who are you?" Scott asked, confused.
"Oh. I'm Stiles, and I think I'm lost," the boy replied, outstretching his hand.
"I'm Scott, and I wish I'm lost," Scott replied back, shaking Stiles' outstretched hand.
Stiles furrowed his eyebrows. "You're not from here, too?"
Scott shook his head. "No. But my dad is. I think he lived in that thing." He gave the house a once-over and he swore, it wasn't getting any better. "I hope I'm wrong, though. I mean, he's also a decent man. He's an FBI agent."
Stiles widened his eyes. "Shut up."
Scott laughed. "Yeah. But I haven't seen him in years so yeah, maybe he's gone psycho and decided to live there."
Stiles chuckled in time that another boy, who was on a bike, arrived. Stiles and Scott both whipped their heads at the direction of the newcomer. Isaac Lahey.
"Hey, dude. Are you from here? In Beacon Hills?" Stiles asked, watching the teenage boy dismounting from his bike.
Isaac just shook his head, put his hands inside his jacket's pockets and walked towards the two boys with confusion plastered on his handsome face. "What about you?" he asked.
Scott shook his head. "No. We're not from here."
"But our dads are," added Stiles.
"Hmm," was all Isaac could say, studying Stiles' and Scott's faces suspiciously.
Just then, another lad came. This time, in a motorbike, just like Scott's. His name was Ethan. Ethan Carver. He removed his helmet and looked up at the house, then at the three boys standing near the front steps.
"Let me guess," Stiles began, "you're not from here, too."
"How'd you know?" Ethan asked.
Stiles shrugged and said, "I'm psychic."
"Nice," Ethan commented, unimpressed. He got off his bike and maneuvered towards the threesome. Looking up at the house in disappointment, he sighed and mumbled to himself, "So this is my dad's house. His crappy...crappy house."
Stiles and Scott creased their eyebrows together, confused and suspicious with everything now.
"What's your dad's name again?" Scott asked Stiles.
"Peter. Peter Stilinski."
"My dad's name is Peter, too. Peter McCall," Scott said, surprised.
"That's weird," Ethan chimed in. "My dad's a Peter, too. Peter Carver."
"What about you?" Stiles asked Isaac.
"Peter Lahey."
"And you all got a call from your dad to come here in Beacon Hills, in the middle of the woods, in his mansion," Stiles stated, trying to put the pieces together.
Everyone looked at him in disbelief. "How'd you know that?" asked Isaac, suspicious.
"Man, you really are psychic," Ethan said, finally impressed.
"Jeez, this is so confusing," Stiles muttered under his breath, running a hand through his neatly waxed hair in frustration, only to mess it up. "I got the same call, too."
Scott's eyes suddenly widened. "Oh my God. Maybe it wasn't really our dad that called us. Maybe it was some sort of psychotic serial killer with deep psychological problems who wanted to kill teenage boys."
Isaac just looked at him flatly. "That's bullshit. How did he get my number?"
"From your dad?" Scott guessed. "He lives here, right?"
"In this town, yeah. But, really? He gave my number to a serial killer just to kill me? It doesn't make any..." He trailed off, suddenly remembering something. After how many seconds, he looked back at Scott and nodded a few times. "Yeah. It makes sense."
The three boys all furrowed their eyebrows at what he just said. But that was when another motorbike came. It stopped just right next to Ethan's. When the one riding it removed his helmet, Ethan could've had sworn he dropped his jaw to the ground. Even the other boys were surprised, too.
"Whoa. You guys are twins?" Scott asked, amazed.
"No, genius. They just happen to look exactly alike by pure coincident," Stiles said, sarcasm dripping in his voice.
But Ethan was so confused and shocked that he didn't hear what Scott and Stiles were saying. Even the guy who was still on his bike was shocked, too. They just stared at each other in complete astonishment, mirroring each other's faces.
"Who are you? Why do you look like me?" Ethan asked, demanding an answer.
"I'm Aiden Carver. Who are you?" the newest comer asked, nodding his head towards Ethan like he was challenging him in a fight.
"Ethan Carver. Why do we have the same last name?"
Isaac let out an amused scoff as he watched the scene. "Well, this is interesting," he muttered to himself.
"You guys have the same last name cos you guys are twins," Stiles said, disbelieving that they hadn't figured it out yet. Wasn't it obvious? Their faces were proof. Jeez.
"I don't have a twin!" Ethan protested. "I'm an only child!"
"Oh my God," Stiles mumbled, refusing to believe that that guy was actually being stubborn.
Suddenly, Scott's eyes lightened up, like he just figured something out. "Aha!" he exclaimed, holding out his index finger in time that a lightbulb appeared next to his head. "Maybe we're all here to meet our twins!" He grinned.
Everyone looked at him like he was crazy. What the hell was he talking about?
Suddenly, an expensive car came and ran onto Isaac's bike, sending it flying over Scott's motorbike, which, in result, dropped onto the ground with a big, loud thud.
Isaac's eyes almost bulged out of their sockets when he saw the parts of his bike flying into places. "Holy shiiit!"
Scott's eyes widened, too. Not because another silly thought hit him. But because his precious motorbike just dropped onto the ground and got scratches everywhere thanks to Isaac's bike.
The engine of the car stopped and out came Jackson Whittemore. Just by looking at his face, they could already tell this guy was arrogant as shit.
"Dude!" Isaac yelled angrily, storming off towards Jackson. "Didn't you see my bike standing right there?!" He overdramatically waved his hand at the spot where his bike used to stand.
Now it was Stiles' turn to scoff an amused scoff. "Ooh, this is interesting."
Jackson just looked at Isaac mockingly. "That was a bike? I thought it was garbage." Then he smiled a crooked smile. Isaac didn't like that smile. So he wiped it off with a big, fat smack.
Jackson's mouth dropped open. Did that punk just actually punched him? Him? The Jackson Whittemore? Wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb, he drew it back and saw blood. Great. Now his ever so good-looking face was damaged. And Jackson didn't like it when somebody damaged his face. So he threw a fist back at Isaac and hit the guy's nose real hard, making it bleed afterwards.
"Whoa! Guys! Chill down!" Scott yelled, running towards them and stepping in between to stop them out.
But with what Jackson did, Isaac only got angrier that he shoved Scott out of the way and aimed for another punch to the arrogant lad. Things were getting hotter between the two boys that the rest of the guys came and helped Scott stop them.
In the end, Aiden and Ethan managed to hold Jackson out and kept him away from killing Isaac. Stiles and Scott did the same to the other boy.
"Sup, boys?"
The six of them all turned towards the house, to where the familiar voice came from. To Stiles' surprise, he saw his dad standing under the front porch with a younger man standing next to him. Did that mean he wasn't lost at all? That his dad actually lived in that junk?
"Dad?" he asked, disbelieving.
"What do you mean dad? That's my dad!" Jackson said, trying to wiggle his way out of Aiden's and Ethan's grip but failed.
"That's my dad, you asshole!" Aiden retorted, smacking Jackson on the head.
"Ow!"
"No, that's my dad!" Ethan argued.
"What are you talking about? You don't even look like him!" Aiden shot back.
"If I don't look like him, then you don't look like him either!"
The boys spent at least five minutes bickering and yelling and claiming that that guy over there was their father. The only person who didn't actually seem proud that that guy over their father was Isaac.
"I wish he's not my father so yeah, he's all yours!" he yelled, still mad about his bike being broken down into pieces.
"Alright, boys! Stop it!" Peter Hale, the man they were claiming their father, said, not mad at all.
"...no, I don't care who you are. You wanna hear it in Spanish? No'!" Stiles remarked to Jackson.
"Stiles," Peter called.
But Stiles didn't hear him. "...and Jackson Whittemore? Who the hell is Jackson Whittemore?!"
"Stiles!" Peter yelled, impatient this time.
"Oh. Hey, dad," Stiles said, inclining his head towards Peter's direction in a cool way. "I was just telling this jerkface that -"
"Stop. Stop it, Stiles. Stop talking for a while, alright?" Peter told him.
Stiles opened his mouth and nodded. "Sure," he replied, scratching the back of his neck.
Peter looked at the six boys for a while. After how many seconds, he finally said, "Now this is the part where I'm about to tell you a secret."
The person beside him, Derek Hale, smirked in amusement while the boys gave each other confused looks.
"What secret?" Jackson asked.
Peter just smiled and replied, "You're all brothers."
A/N: So, is it okay? Should I continue?