The woods were hushed and dark, the silver light that washed the earth was barely enough for the lone human to see the werewolves in whose company he stood. The dim lighting was more than enough for the two packs to be able to see each other. No one had moved for what seemed to Stiles Stilinski like hours. The teenager stood, hands twitching by his side, eyes flickering from the 'wolves at his side to those silhouetted only a few meters away.

There were five dark shapes that stood silently and Stiles' human sight figured that two of them were female and the remaining three male. He knew who they were even without having to see there eyes. They were the Alpha pack. And they were here for Derek.

It had been a week since Jackson had joined Derek's pack and since Gerard had disappeared without a trace. A few days after that night, Derek had been confronted by a member of the Alpha pack. She had more demanded than told him that his pack would meet with the Alpha pack. She told him that the only other option was 'pack war'. Derek, with Peter's guidance, had decided to meet with the Alphas. There was no way a pack of baby 'wolves, a recently resurrected psycho and a brooding creeper of an Alpha could defeat an Alpha pack. If he wasn't so full of fear, Stiles may have laughed at how dysfunctional the pack was.

When Scott had told Stiles about what the Alpha had said, he couldn't resist coming along. Though he was only human, he still considered himself part of the pack and he hoped that Derek did too. Not that it mattered what Derek thought about Stiles. It wasn't like Stiles had spent countless hours wondering and worrying about what Derek thought of him. Not at all.

Stiles didn't dare shake his head free of the thoughts of his not-at-all pining after the hunk of an Alpha 'wolf in case the sudden movement got his precious pale human throat ripped out. He did, however, allow himself to look to Derek with fearful eyes. The Alpha couldn't see Stiles but he hoped that his 'wolfy senses could feel the eyes on the back of his neck. The neck that lead down to the muscles that were hugged tightly by the black leather of Derek's jacket. Stiles mentally shook himself again. This was neither the time nor place to not think about how badly he wanted to run his hands up and down that perfect back.

Derek cleared his throat, stepping forward a little. Stiles drew in a quiet breath through his nose just a little, drawing Jackson's attention. The rest of the 'wolves were focused on Derek's movements. Derek opened his mouth to speak but snapped it shut as a low growl sounded that shook Stiles' very core. The growl can from, as Stiles guessed, the Alpha of the Alpha pack. He stepped out of the shade of the trees and into the moonlight.

He was a man of medium height and build with short and curled hair that was dark against his skin, made pale in the moonlight. His eyes faded to their natural colour, unseen to Stiles in this light, as he moved close to Derek.

"Derek Hale." He spoke flatly and without emotion. "You are Alpha of the pack of the Beacon Hills territory." He spoke with such formality that Stiles was confused as to whether he was a lawyer Alpha werewolf of an Alpha werewolf pack. "But there is a second Alpha."

Every pair of eyes were on the nameless Alpha as he moved to stand in front of Peter, his darkened face void of any telling emotion.

"Peter Hale." Peter straightened as he drew in a sharp breath that showed a glimpse of the true fear beneath that solid mask of bravery he constantly wore. "You were Alpha of Beacon Hills but you turned Scott McCall without his consent." Scott shifted uncomfortably despite the fact that the only eyes that dared move to him were Stiles' and they only remained there a moment before returning to the threatening 'wolf's presence. "You also attacked many others including Lydia Martin. Your psychological instability has made it clear that you are an unfit Alpha. And for this reason, you shall be made Omega to never join a pack again."

In Stiles' mind's eye, every member of the pack gasped as the Alpha pack members all broke into simultaneous evil grins and started cackling evilly. Reality, however, contrasted greatly. Everyone remained frozen, Stiles' heart was the only sound as it beat frantically against his chest. Derek frowned but didn't move. Peter made to speak but was silenced by another growl. Peter's head moved a little to the side, his neck stretching beneath the Alpha's gaze. Stiles could just see in what little light there was that a mixed expression of fear and pain danced across his face as the soon-to-be Omega showed the universal sign of submission.

The nameless Alpha's lips twitched a little at the display. Stiles was unsure whether the man was holding back a smile or caging a satisfied growl from his wolf. He brought his hand up, nails lengthening into claws. Stiles felt his own heart almost break through the barrier of his ribs as he watched the rapid rising and falling of Peter's own chest. The man was no longer even attempting to hide the fear, the scent of which would undoubtedly be thick in the air. Derek, who had been tense since seeing his uncle submit, stepped forward. A fierce growl that came from the nameless Alpha made Derek stumble back a little as though the sound had physically hit him in the chest.

The other four Alpha's growled in unison as a warning to the beta wolves. One single member of the Alpha pack had more power alone than Derek's whole pack. Even Stiles could feel their dominance rolling in waves with those red-eyed glares. Or maybe that was his very human fear. Either way, there was no chance anyone was going to interrupt the de-Alpha-ing that was about to happen.

The world seemed to slow down to an almost stop as Stiles face became numb and his breathing heavy. The Alpha's eyes glowed a brighter red as his sank the sharpened claws into the flesh of Peter's chest. His face contorted into a wince as he held in place for the Alpha's claws. Despite all the terrible acts that Peter had done, Stiles couldn't help the way his heart lurched in sympathy for how the Derek's uncle was trapped in place by his submission to the stranger's inner wolf.

The red hint in Peter's eyes that had appeared when the Alpha had pressed his claws to his chest became the bright glow of a strong Alpha. The fear in his eyes was clear, even through the red, making the whole scene that bit more painful to watch. Stiles mentally cursed his uncontrollable curiosity that forced his eyes to lock onto the scene.

A pained almost-whine forced it's way from Peter's lips as his eyes went from one end of the colour spectrum to the other, glowing a sapphire blue. Stiles' heart broke a little at the sight of tears rolling down Peter's cheeks. The Alpha retracted his claws from Peter, his eyes fading from their Alpha-red. Peter fell to the ground with a muffled whimper as he tried, with what little of his strength remained, to seem still the powerful 'wolf he was only a moment ago.

The Alpha stood back, eyes remaining on the curled up Omega on the ground. The rest of the Alpha pack had all fixed their eyes on the one remaining Alpha of Beacon Hills.

"Derek Hale." The Alpha looked to Derek. Stiles felt all senses sharpen with fear. He could taste something metallic at that back of his throat. It was somewhat coppery and Stiles' stomach lurched a little at the memory of having tasted it previously. The taste that was familiar to all and impossibly ominous. It was the copper taste of blood.

"You have done well to protect the territory of Beacon Hills, especially since the death of your family and most recently your sister. For which we offer our condolences." The Alpha's face took on a solemn and almost sorrowful expression. On the ground, Peter had recovered a little but he remained where he was and listened to the Alpha's words. Derek, however, was his useable unreadable self. "The pain of loosing pack, especially that by blood, never truly leaves us."

Stiles felt his chest tighten a little as the Alpha spoke almost compassionately. How was Derek keeping so still? If it were Stiles, he would have been sobbing on the ground by now. The memory of his own mother's death made his eyes sting a little. He could only imagine how the fresh memory made Derek feel beneath that furrowed brow and sharp stare.

"However," the Alpha continued, the dominant tone back in his voice. "Though you obtained the consent of those you turned, Jackson Whittemore became a kanima." Stiles, again the only one whose eyes jumped momentarily to the mentioned 'wolf, saw that Jackson shifted more than Scott had. The newest 'wolfs eyes flickering down the stare at the earth at his feet before lifting them again to watch the one sided interaction silently. "The kanima was controlled by a teenager and a hunter. Both of whom sought power."

Derek looked to protest but the slight red tint of the Alpha's eyes soon silenced him, his head bowing a little as he tired to hide the submissive stretching of his neck. "You did not warm any of those you turned of the possibility that the bite would manifest itself in some other way than in the form of the wolf. Since the kanima was of your creation, you shall be made Beta to remain in the pack of Beacon Hills."

Derek rose his head a little, a questioning look in his eyes. The Alpha nodded and continued as though he had heard the question on the tip of everyone's tongue. "No pack is without an Alpha and Beacon Hill must have a pack if it is not to be claimed by an Omega's desperation to rule." Stiles' eyes flickered in the same direction as the Alpha's: towards Peter, the power mad now Omega. "For this reason, I will presume the role of Alpha of the Beacon Hills pack."

Again, Stiles imagined a simultaneous gasp. It was only when every head snapped to look at him, some with shock and others with bewilderment, that he realized he had actually sounded a sharp intake of breath. The gasp had caught the attention of everyone, the tension disappearing for a moment. The Alpha turned to Derek with a light laugh and asked with a cocked eyebrow "he yours?"

Derek didn't reply and Stiles had just enough of his mind that hadn't turned fire engine red in embarrassment to hope that Derek would say 'yes' and verbally acknowledge Stiles as part of his pack. Stiles' heart sank a little when the silence was interrupted by the Alpha's nails becoming claws for the second time that night.

Stiles drew in an audible breath that he knew all could hear but none payed attention to. He watched on, fear and panic both fighting within him to make him loose control. There was no way this was happening. No way. How could the pack stand there, unmoving? Why didn't they stop this? Why weren't the Avengers getting with the assembly?

Stiles looked to those he considered his pack mates with scared and expectant eyes. When no one reacted to his frantic glaring Stiles looked back to the Alpha the stood in the no-man's-land between the two packs. Both their eyes were glowing red and Derek's flesh already held the claws of the other Alpha. The swelling in Stiles chest that had forced his throat closed was now being pushed up to his lips where it was bound to explode in protest at Derek loosing his Alpha status.

Stiles' lips parted as he leaned forward a little towards the two Alphas. The bubble escaped as a shocked gasp-scream at what he saw. It took a moment for his eyes to register the sight, the whistling of something moving through the wind at speed aiding the process some. An arrow, thin and black, barely contrasting against the night's shadows, had somehow gotten stuck in the palm of the Alpha's claw baring hand. There was a rustling sounding from all around the two packs and more arrows began to fly and sink themselves into trees, only one found it's way in Erica's arm.

Stiles, human and unprotected, motioned to back himself up against a nearby tree to prevent attack from behind when an arrow narrowly missed his head and stabbed the tree's trunk. Stiles, wide eyed, looked instinctively for the archer.

His eyes found another figure, wielding a small device that could have been a mobile phone. The figure's thumb pressed against a button that turned on a small LED light. The switch had another purpose besides lighting the small red bulb. Stiles figured out this second function when he felt something press uncomfortably against his eardrums and watched all twelve 'wolves cringe and fall to the ground in agony. It was clear that the device was emitting some form of high pitched sound that was too high for humans to hear but excruciatingly painful for werewolves.

There were cries and howls of agony being echoed all around. Stiles stood, almost dancing on his feet with indecision of which way to run if at all. He watched as Isaac took and arrow to the thigh and Peter to the shoulder. Scott and Jackson were both trying there best in hand to claw combat with two hunters, both of them healing from bloody wounds caused by the knifes that had been knocked from the grasps of their attackers. They were fighting well to say that they were fighting whilst in pain at the sound that continued to play mercilessly. Stiles looked around in search of Derek to see that he was fighting two hunters, both of whom were armed with large knives. Helpless, Stiles scanned the scene to find that the Alpha pack had fled. He saw Boyd running too and barely had time to consider him a coward along with the all-powerful Alphas when he witnessed Boyd jumping at a tree, only to push himself off of the trunk's bark to become a flying mass of claws and fangs. Boyd had directed himself to hit the hunter holding the device keeping this battle at a stalemate. Stiles watched with wide eyes as Boyd landed on the hunter, sending the device flying in the air. It shattered against a particularly large tree root, the light and sound both stopping at once.

There was a brief moment of quiet where only panting and wincing filled the air and everyone seemed to catch up on what had happened. The sound that interrupted the panting was the rustling of leaves as the hunters scattered for safety. The pack drew closer to preserve itself. Stiles, without the 'wolf reflexes to snap him back into common time, witnessed what happened next as a blurred confusion of blood and crushing pain.

Only when he was trapped between the cold hard earth and that which had caused his fall did his mind replay the events at a speed it could comprehend.

Someone had called Stiles' name. A deep voice. One that Stiles had often dreamed of. But in his dreams, it had been a loving murmur, not the fearful and panic ridden scream that reality had given him. He recognized the voice Derek's right away.

Then there had been gunfire. And a rushing shape heading towards him. Stiles had braced himself against the attack he knew he would never outrun or dodge in time. He saw Derek's face, scowling with rage but fear present in those Alpha red eyes of his. Stiles watched as that same face went blank, confusion replacing fear as Derek fell, knocking the air from Stiles' lungs as he fell too. Stiles wrapped his arms arms around Derek's warm body as tightly as his own body would allow so that he had something to hold as he fell. And there they lay, Derek on top of Stiles, crushing his body as Stiles hands remained locked together around the leather jacket, not able to let go.

That was until he felt the rapidly cooling and yet still warm copper scented liquid. He tentatively followed the stream to the source of the bleeding: the back of Derek's head.

Stiles' gasp was barely more than a pained whimper as he tried to call Derek's name. Panic rose again, joining forces with fear to take over Stiles' entire being. With what little air he could inhale, he called Derek's name, turning his head so that he could shout directly into Derek's ear.

Nothing happened. And for an impossibly long moment, Stiles thought he would remain trapped beneath the unconscious and very possibly dead 'wolf. The thought of Derek being dead made Stiles' eyes well up with tears that would have run freely down his cheeks had it not been for the sudden pressure relief and the rush of air that filled his lungs. Boyd stood above Stiles, the rest of the pack surrounding him with worried eyes.

Hands were suddenly on Stiles, lifting him to his weak legs that he barely had mind enough to will stronger. Once he found stability on his own feet again, the hands let go. He looked to either side and saw Erica and Scott. Their gaze flickering between the barely stable human and their seriously injured Alpha being carried away by Boyd and followed by Issac and Jackson.

Scott ran forward to help his pack mates with their Alpha after giving Stiles a look that told him that he'd be fine with Erica. Or, more likely, that Erica would be fine with him. Stiles was dazed and confused but that was nothing compared to the injury Erica had. The others were wounded too but their 'wolfen need to save their Alpha must have been greater than the instinct to save their own hides.

"Wh-" Stiles was breathless as he wrapped an arm around Erica's waist in support. "Where are they taking him?"

"Deaton." Came the pained reply through gritted teeth. Stiles frowned a little but didn't question it further. Erica needed the vet's help too but there was no way Stiles could get there soon. Not without werewolf superpowers.

That was when Stiles changed their course from following the pack to slightly to the side to head towards his Jeep. Stiles felt a leather clad arm on his, helping to support Erica. There was a moment when Stiles thought the owner of the arm was Derek, but one look told him a pale and shaking Peter was the one helping him carry the wounded she-'wolf to the his vehicle.

The clouds engulfed the moon and the stars, reflecting the light from the town's life into wood's darkest corners in place of the heavens' beams. The little light guided the two broken 'wolves and the damaged human out of the dark and to the old Jeep that sat on the border of the wood and the town. When the vehicle had moved, with it's passengers, away, the earth settled and the wood fell quiet once more. Only the wind through the leaves and the scurrying of small animals and even smaller creatures disturbed the silence.