Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. I merely took them and ran with them.

A/N

Hey guys! I'm moving my authors notes to the front. I know I said I'd post two chapters yesterday, but I started writing the sequel for this one. Adam is mentioned in this story. If you want to know more about him, check out my Supernatural fanfic "One Way Ticket," updated daily, just like this one. The chapters will get longer, I promise. Thanks for reading, please review, and as always, enjoy!

Ch. 4

Tension

If circumstances were slightly different, Stiles would be laughing out loud at the tension. Circumstances were not ideal, however, and between his glowering brothers, the grave he was digging, and his whispering pack behind him, the tension was almost suffocating. Stiles had long since given up trying to hear what his pack was saying, and instead focused on the task at hand. This meant, however, talking to his brothers. They were not happy.

Dean grunted as he threw another shovelful of dirt away. The grave was almost dug. "Stiles, man, how could you be so stupid?" he all but yelled. Stiles gestured frantically to say that the werewolves were listening, but Dean didn't care. "You find out it's a demon, YOU CALL US! Do you know how dangerous they are? Do you know how many times Sam and I have died because of those S. ? Cause I don't. Lost count. The point is you call us and we handle it. Not call us and give us no information but a GUNSHOT on the other side of a WALL! With the COLT! Which you STOLE, by the way!" The werewolves flinched at Dean's ever-increasing volume.

Stiles shrunk down in his grave. He was right. What had he been thinking? He didn't deserve Sam coming to his rescue.

"C'mon, Dean, give the kid a break" Sam said exasperatedly, too used to pulling a rabid Dean off his little brother. "He did handle it, stolen Colt or not." Stiles opened his mouth to speak but Sam shot him a look saying they would talk about it later. "I'm sure he's well aware of the danger, Dean. I mean, he's been trained by the best. He won't be another Adam." This seemed to anger Dean instead of placating him.

"Don't even bring up Adam!" Dean roared. Stiles agreed with Dean. Adam's fate could have easily been his own, had the Winchesters not found him when he was 2 instead of 19. He remembered hearing about him, finding and losing a brother in one phone call. Before that, Dean had been adverse to Stiles' training. After that, he had been adamant, even training him himself. Lost in thought, it took a minute for Stiles to realize that Dean was glaring at him.

"What?" he said, tossing another shovel-full of dirt over his shoulder.

Dean's growl could rival Derek's. Now there's something you don't think every day. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?" Sam looked even more annoyed than he already was and kept digging. Stiles, meanwhile, put his shovel down.

"Yeah, I do actually. First of all, I didn't steal the Colt. You gave it to me during a hunt. I didn't give it back because you never asked for it." Dean looked a little sheepish but so did Stiles. As excuses go, it wasn't the best. Nevertheless he continued. "Secondly, I had the situation completely under control. I figured out what we were dealing with right away. The only thing I didn't anticipate was my pack's reluctance to listen to me! And I couldn't make a move without them without blowing my cover! I got them to cooperate finally" This last part was directed at the pack who stood listening. "But you're partially right. By the time they did it was too late. It was yesterday. So I orchestrated the showdown and I called you guys. I packed the Colt and I made sure the demon took me as a hostage." What Stiles didn't say was how terrified he had been. Most of it had been for show, for the demon's and werewolves' benefit, but part of him had been so scared even after he had pulled the trigger. It was the most fear-inducing week of his life, and only when his brothers had walked into the loft had he finally felt safe.

Sam spoke again. "Why didn't you call us sooner, Stiles? Why wait when you knew the risk?"

Stiles thought for a moment. The scariest part of last week had been his ability to do nothing. When the danger first arose the pack watched him like a hawk, and he had felt so trapped, so disconnected from what he truly was. However... "I couldn't be sure. The first time I told you about the werewolves you were ready to come murder them all! How could I be sure that you wouldn't ice my friends after icing the demon! I didn't blow my cover until it was absolutely necessary!"

Sam nodded. "Fair point. However, 20 deaths? 1,000 deals? Isn't that enough to blow your cover?" Seeing Stiles hunch down even further, he hastily added "Look I'm sure whatever you thought at the time was completely rational. And you're in luck. The demon was rouge. He was the only one holding the contracts, so they all broke when you killed him. Nice shot, by the way." Sam said the last part with a lighter tone in an attempt to cheer the kid up.

"Yep, kid's first ganked demon." said Dean, looking a little less angry himself. "We need to go drinking. However," and all of the sudden Dean's face was cold again, "that's still 20 deaths. And all for our cover? Explain, man."

"Look around guys!" Stiles started gesturing frantically. "My cover just got blown! Look at what happened! Peter and Derek looked ready to kill you! I had to stand in front of my own pack with MY HANDS IN THE AIR! All because of my last name! Chris had a gun trained on me! I'll be lucky if they trust me again! A full out war almost broke out, and all because you walked in the door. Hell, Sam, you almost killed Isaac!"

Dean looked offended, if very amused. "Hey look, Sam was just trying to scare the kid. I almost killed Isaac. And he deserved it too. Charging an enemy you know nothing about? Take it from someone who knows: stupid move."

"Yeah," Stiles agreed, "It was." All of the sudden the Winchesters couldn't take the tension anymore and they burst out laughing.

After the body was unceremoniously thrown into it's grave, Stiles and Sam were putting the finishing touches on the dirt pile. When Dean wasn't looking, Sam leaned over to Stiles and said "You know, I get why you did it." Stiles' eyes widened in surprise. He had not been expecting that.

"Really?" he whispered. There really wasn't a point in whispering, what with the pack able to hear him no matter what. Dean was too focused on re-packing his trunk to pay attention to the conversation. But Stiles felt like Sam had trouble talking behind his brother's back like this, and decided that whispering would be more respectful.

"Yeah," Sam continued. "Look, there was a time when I would trust Dean with my life so surely that it kind of scared me. That's gone now. It broke a little when I went to college, but it shattered after the first demon deal. I still trust him with my life, I mean, he's my brother, but now not so blindly. When he asks me to trust him about something, I have to think about who it's benefiting. You grew up with us, Stiles, but you never fell into the blind trust I did. I think that's a good thing. You can see both sides of the situation and you can see why having your hot-blooded demon hunter of a brother drive through town would be a bad idea."Stiles blushed at Sam's praise. They smiled at eachother before Dean sauntered over to collect their shovels.

"Chick flick moment over?" Stiles blushed again but if Dean saw he dismissed it. "Good. moving on. What do we do now?"

"What do you mean? Aren't you guys going to hit the road? Not that I don't want you to stay," Stiles said, hurrying the last part. He didn't want his brothers to feel unwelcome in Beacon Hills. Well, maybe a bit late for that.

Dean continued. "Kid, as much as I wish this was any other case, it's not. It's you. Normally we can just let rock music play and the screen fade to black, but I think we need to stick around. Too often we leave towns in much worse shape than we found them. That can't happen to you"

Stiles was confused. "Look, if you're worried about the demon having backup-"

Sam interrupted him. "No Stiles. We're worried about you. You're a hunter, you always have been, only now your werewolf friends know it. You were right when you said they may not trust you again." Stiles looked downcast.

"Plus soon, the whole supernatural world will know it, too" Dean interjected. "And not just another hunter. No, they'll know you're a Winchester."

"The only people who have heard me acknowledge my last name are in this graveyard." Stiles said softly. "Dead and alive." Dean looked at him in what Stiles supposed was an attempt at sympathy.

"Stiles, man, shooting a demon in the face with the Colt is kinda our signature move." Dean said bluntly. Nevertheless, he smiled, and the little remaining tension dissolved completely. "And speaking of hearing," Dean continued, a dangerous level of mischief creeping into his voice, "Sammy, should you tell him or should I?"

"Tell me what?" demanded Stiles, obviously not alarmed by the light tone of voice, but curious all the same.

"Well you know what's interesting," said Sam, grinning mischievously, his eyes sparkling, "Is that when you mix together wolfsbane and mountain ash, and spread it's powder in a circle around you..." he trailed off.

"Yeah?" Stiles said eagerly.

"Werewolves can't hear you." Stiles grinned, his face matching his two brothers. He brought them in for a hug. They grimaced and squirmed but Stiles laughed.

"Thanks guys" he whispered, this time so he wouldn't burst into tears.

Dean looked confused, but patted Stils on the back. "For what, man? This certainly won't help them trust you." Stiles shrugged.

"Well no, but I've been waiting so long to talk to you guys. No werewolves hearing, no angles, no demons chasing us, just me and you guys. And now I got it." Stiles eyes shone as he smiled genuinely. Sam looked a little tearful too, but Dean elbowed him. Stiles straightened, and he was all business as he turned to talk over to the wolves. "I'll tell the wolves. I need to tell them. All they know right now is that I've got cold-blooded killers for relatives." Sam nodded.

"Ok Stiles, but when you're ready. Don't rush. Once you give up an illusion, you can't get it back."

Stiles nodded sadly. "It's already gone." He walked away from his brothers, and imagined stepping over the wolfsbane-mountain ash line. He saw his pack stiffen. And there it was again. Tension.