Just to let you guys know I SUCK at writing action scenes, so there's a fight ahead, it's really not what I hoped it'd be, but oh well. Sorry in advance. Also, some Stiles's angst. Poor thing.

Pale Horses

Something Becomes Clear

When he gets home it's getting dark, and he knows his dad is that kind of really pissed he gets when he is actually completely worried about him. He had the day shift today, and getting home and not finding Stiles there's got to be on his top ten most hated things.

Stiles feels guilty just by looking at him.

"Where were you? And more importantly, why didn't you call me to let me know you'd be late?" His voice is angry and worried, and Stiles's heart breaks a little – is this how things are going to be now, then? He has to find excuses all the time, and doing pack things usually involve being out at night, and his dad doesn't need the stress.

But what's worse? Having him worrying and having to lie to him, or tell him the truth and risk giving him a heart attack?

Decisions, decisions.

"Sorry, dad. I'm… really sorry, I just lost track of time."

His dad doesn't answer, but he comes to Stiles and hugs him. That kind of hug that makes Stiles feel as if everything will be fine. The kind of hug that can make anything better – even the death of his mom became more bearable because his dad was there to hug him like this.

He doesn't want to lie, and he has Derek's permission.

Oh, God, he's going to do it, he's going to tell him.

"Just… don't do that again, son. Not now, ok? Too damn close to losing you too many times."

Stiles nods and lets his dad go, and then he takes a deep breath.

"Dad, I have to tell you something."

His father is about to answer when there's a knock on the door, and Scott actually opens it without waiting.

"Hey, can we talk now?" He asks, looking uncomfortable and guilty.

Stiles sighs, and he and his dad trade a look. His father smiles a bit.

"We'll talk later, ok?"

He nods and makes a gesture for Scott to follow him, they go to his room, and he closes the door behind him.

Scott shuffles about the room, unsure of himself, and Stiles throws himself on his bed, waiting. He knows it's killing Scott to have to begin the conversation, and it's kind of killing him to be quiet, because that's just not his natural state, but he's going to extract a little bit of vengeance here.

"I'm sorry." Scott says finally, looking at him with that kicked puppy look, but Stiles is a cold, cold werewolf now, and snorts.

"Man, sorry doesn't even begin to cover it. Actually, it's so far from covering it that it doesn't even make a hat for it. It's not a sock on it. It's maybe a small piece of a shoelace to it."

Scott looks down, and sits on the chair by the computer.

"How did you find out, anyway? About Gerard, I mean."

"I heard you." He says simply, and Scott looks even guiltier, as if he would try to convince Stiles he wasn't betraying them.

"I really am sorry, Stiles, but he threatened my mom."

Stiles actually looks at Scott then, and sees how worried and tense he is.

"Gerard Argent?"

"Yeah. He stabbed me outside the hospital, and kept on saying how my mom wouldn't heal, and that I had to help him."

"And you went and agreed, and looked for Derek, to pass on information on him to Gerard?" when Scott only nods, Stiles gets up from the bed, throwing his hands in the air, "How can you be so stupid? Why didn't you look for the police, you moron? Gerard is a human, he can be accused!"

"Because no one would believe me! What was I supposed to say, he's threatening me because I'm a werewolf?" He protests, and Stiles turns around and fixes him with an incredulous glare.

"What the hell, Scott! You just had to say he had threatened your mom because he wants you to stop seeing his granddaughter, you stupid… ARGH!" Stiles starts pacing again, "It's not a secret they don't want you with Allison. A family like that is bound to have some record with the police."

Scott looks down then, and mumbles something that, had Stiles not being a werewolf, he wouldn't have been able to pick up – but now he does.

"But Allison would blame me."

Stiles stops his pacing again. What's he going to do with this man?

"Scott, you are playing with a lot of people's lives here. Not only yours, and your mom's, but mine, and my dad's, and the whole pack's. Matt is dead, and Jackson is on the loose, and Lydia is not going to school, and you think that not incriminating Gerard is better than have him at least investigated because of Allison? Because of the girl who was trying to kill Derek?"

"She blames him, okay? Her mom didn't have a history of depression like people are saying; she killed herself because she was going to turn into a werewolf. And Derek is the one that bit her!"

"Yeah, to save you. He put the whole plan to waste because of you. To save you. The ash was all over the building, and he had me blow it away to save you. And you are here, protecting, and lying and betraying him for the family who wants nothing more than to kill you for what you are now! If she wants to blame and kill someone she might as well start with you, because you're the reason Derek attacked Allison's mom. Are you going to tell her that? That her mom is a killer, who was trying to kill you?" He snarls, and he knows he's losing it, but he doesn't care, he's just so pissed at Scott right now, "And that's not even mentioning the whole question of how stupid it is for them to kill her, or for her to kill herself, with no thought for Allison at all. She didn't have to be dangerous, she could have been controlled on the full moon, she could have lived! Don't you see how sick those people are, all of them, and you are fucking WORKING WITH THEM!"

The last part is said in a roar, and he is the closest to turning than he's ever been. Scott is staring at him guiltily, but he doesn't say anything.

He knows Stiles is right.

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I screwed it all up, and I need… help. Come on, Stiles, you were always my back up, I need you."

It's not the plea, and it's not the tone, and it isn't even that helping Scott would be just about the most stupid thing he's ever done that actually hurts him. He's done stupid things for Scott before, like chaining him to a wall and sitting there while Scott tells him how he's kissed Lydia.

It's not that that hurts. It's the you were always my back up.

Which translates into you were always second best. You are always the afterthought. You are the one who can lose his very first game playing first line, which your dad gets out of work to watch, to solve Scott's problems. You are the one that can get hung up on because Scott needs to be quiet in Allison's house, but has to answer the phone ten minutes later and go to his rescue.

You are the one who can lie and get lied to, because you are back up.

You're the sidekick.

Second best.

He's never hoped to be first priority of anyone – besides his dad, and even then he fights it tooth and nail, trying to take care of his dad just as much as his dad takes care of him. He doesn't need to be the most important thing in Scott's life – that would be just ridiculous, they are friends, they aren't family, or a couple.

But he has hoped that Scott would see him as an equal. Even ground. Balance. And he clearly doesn't, because he's calling Stiles his backup.

Stiles can't quite define why that hurts him so much now – maybe it's the fact that he would expect that from anyone but Scott. And he can't help but feel bitter towards him, because ever since Allison showed up, Stiles has been put in second place, and that's not her fault, because he wasn't her best friend. Scott has lied to him, and betrayed him, and endangered him, and it was okay, because they were friends, and they were equals, and he could take it.

It's what friend do, right?

Okay, with the werewolf part it has become kind of best friends extreme, but it's alright.

Only it isn't anymore, because they aren't even, they aren't equals.

He's backup.

Scott didn't even say because you're my best friend.

Stiles shakes his head, blinking fast, because he is not going to cry over a lost friendship like this.

"Just… Just go, okay?" he whispers, and Scott gets up, worried this time.

"What… Stiles, I-"

"Just GO. I don't… I can't deal with you right now. I'll talk to Derek, and to my dad, and I'll see what we can figure out about Gerard, but he isn't our main focus now, okay?"

"What could be more important than this?" Scott asks, and Stiles laughs bitterly.

"Honestly, man? How about the fact that I HAVE BEEN TURNED? Did you actually get that part? I'm a freaking wolf, Scott, and I sure as hell didn't ask for it, and Derek had to do it to save my life." He looks at Scott and can tell that he is really shocked by it, "Peter Hale is back, and he almost killed me, and if it wasn't for Derek, and Erica, and Boyd, and Isaac, I would be dead right now. And that creep is after me, and I'm quite sure he's not interested in killing me. So yeah, for me, being alive and Peter-free is kind of top priority right now."

"What does Peter want with you? And how is he back?" Scott sounds astonished, and for this, at least, Stiles can't blame him.

"I don't know. And even if I did, I couldn't tell you."

"Why not?"

And Stiles has to admit that, although he always cheers for the good guys, a small part of him always does admire the villains. And he kind of takes just a little bit of perverse pleasure in saying what he says next.

"Because this is pack business. And you are not pack."

Scott looks as if Stiles has punched him, and Stiles looks down. He doesn't like hurting anyone like this, but enough is enough. He's done with this. If they are to become friends again, it's on Scott to make the right choices now.

"I…" Scott starts, and Stiles just looks up. They stare at each other, and none can think of what to say. Things are just too raw to deal with right now, and there's not enough I'm sorry in the world to undo what's been done.

Stiles shrugs, and Scott nods at him, leaving.

"Wait." He says, and Scott stops, turning to him with a hopeful look in his eyes. Stiles gathers his courage, and digs something out of his pocket.

A key.

He reaches out, giving the key to Scott, and the other boy knows it's the key Stiles had made – the key to Scott's house. Scott looks like he wants to say something, but Stiles just presses the key to his hand, and turns his back. Eventually, the other werewolf leaves, and he listens to Scott saying good night to his dad, and drops on the bed, feeling exhausted and awful and guilty. His eyes are stinging, and he thinks all he wants right now is sleep. It's too freaking much – it's Peter after him, and Jackson at school, and Scott being a stupid moron, and Derek kissing him, and he needs a break.

"Hey, son, is everything okay?" His dad is leaning against his door frame, and he stares at the man, sighing from his spot on the bed.

Maybe he should just take everything out of the way, like ripping a Band-Aid. Then he could deal with everything at once, which is pretty much the same as dealing with nothing of it at all, because it's just too much, and he will refuse to think about it.

He sits up, and his dad takes that as an invitation to enter his room. Stiles pats the bed, and his dad cracks a small smile.

"I need to tell you something." He says, and his voice is suspiciously rough. He keeps on blinking, and takes a deep breath, and thinks it won't help him any if he starts crying while telling his dad he's a werewolf – actually, it might actually help him.

Huh. Maybe he'll cry just a bit after all.

"Are you sure you want to do it now? You're making this sound awfully serious, and I heard you and Scott screaming at each other here. You've never done this before." He looks as if he doesn't even want to make the offer, his dad knows this has to be something important, but he's always willing to give whatever it is that Stiles needs.

God, this is going to be hard.

"No. I want to… to come clean to you." He looks at his dad, and sees he's starting to get worriedly suspicious. It's a kind of look he has only ever seen on his dad – the kind of look that says, oh my god, I'll be so angry, and yet I'll want to support you. Stiles looks down, and starts fiddling with the hem of his shirt. It's now or never.

Never does sound good. How does someone even tell a parent they're a werewolf now? Hey, dad, remember how I've always said dogs were gross? Well, now I'm one! Kind of.

Bad. Bad, bad, bad.

"Stiles?" His father inquiries as he's lost in his own little world, and he sighs again.

"Okay. I can do this." His dad looks as if he wants to smile now, but he keeps quiet. Quiet and calm and steady and there, as he's always been. Stiles has no idea what he's done to deserve such an amazing guy as his father, but he's not complaining, "Okay, here's the deal. There's a lot going on in Beacon Hills that you don't know about, and it's crazy, because you're the freaking Sheriff, and you should know everything. You should be the Gordon in this town, and Batman should trust you with everything, okay? But this'll be hard to believe, and I need you to let me get everything out first, and then I need you to know I can prove everything I say. Okay?"

His dad looks a little lost, and Stiles knows he needs a minute to separate the valid comments from the blah blah blah his speech has. It's a talent.

"All right. What do you have to tell me?"

Stiles breathes in deeply, and lets it all go in a whoosh.

"First, I'm gay now. And I'm kind of committed, as far as I know, because I have a certain suspicion the guy I'm with is not the sharing type."

John looks divided between being angry and being amused.

"We've had this conversation, Stiles, you're not gay." He says while he, honest to God, facepalms.

"Maybe not, but I was out with this guy, that's why I was late. He picked me up at school, and we went out, and talked, and we kissed, and now I'm kind of his, you know? Serious shit." He confirms it with a nod of his head, and his dad starts to look as if he believes him.

"Who's this guy? Is that why you're upset with Scott?" His dad says, looking like he's humoring Stiles.

"I'll tell you who he is in a few minutes, when I get the rest of it out of the way. And no, that's not it, you know Scott has no problem with this kind of thing – actually, he doesn't even know about this. It's… new. It's just happened. I don't think anyone knows about it; just me, and this guy, and well, you, because I thought that was the easiest point of this conversation – the one it'd be easier for you to believe."

"The easiest point to believe? Telling me you're in a committed relationship with another guy is not the hardest part of to believe in what you have to tell me?" John looks startled and suspiciously amused – another one of the expressions Stiles has only ever seen on his dad.

His dad has had to develop a whole new level of facial expressions to deal with him. That's how troublesome Stiles is. Normal, patented parent-related expressions simply don't cover the gamut of trouble he gets into.

"Yeah. But keep in mind I can prove it. All of it."

His dad nods.

"Okay, son, spill it before I start thinking you committed a crime."

Stiles laughs a little too nervously, and his dad narrows his eyes at him.

"Okay, the beginning then, ok? Remember the day you found me in the woods, when I told you Scott wasn't there, but he was, and he lost his inhaler?" His dad nods again, "Well, Scott got bitten there by something. We thought it was a rogue wolf, and that was bad enough, but then he started doing things. And hearing things, and then we got into a small spot of trouble, and we thought Derek was to blame, because he was all weird and creepy and just fit into the whole bad guy model, only he isn't, he's never been the bad guy. But this is for later, the thing is, what bit Scott was a werewolf. And Scott became one too."

"Stiles." John says in an exasperated tone, as if he's getting upset at being told serious things would be told and then is caught up in some prank.

"I told you I can prove it! Just… Just wait, ok? Please, dad? I'm not having a psychotic episode, I swear!"

John Stilinski actually looks as if he hadn't thought about it till now but he's beginning to think that's a good explanation.

"Please, just listen, ok? I can prove it." He says again, and his dad sighs but nods. "Alright. Anyway, things got tense and complicated, especially because of the Argents and Derek, but we were dealing with it. I was dealing with it. We actually thought the bad guy was dead and gone, but he kind of came back. And that's the part that actually has me telling you all this shit, because the bad guy came back, and he's kind of after me, and he almost killed me, and, well, Derek? Derek Hale is kind of the Alpha of this… pack? And he changed me because then I could heal. That's what happened Friday night. I wasn't at Isaac's, I was at Derek's. I'm a werewolf, and this whole thing is just… there's so much more I have to tell you, and I also know exactly who – actually, what – killed all those men in the station, but I have to convince you of this first, because I think you won't believe me when I tell it was a giant lizard being controlled by Matt if you don't believe I'm a werewolf now."

They stare at each other, and John looks down, shaking his head, and then looking up, looking completely pissed at Stiles.

"If you think this is funny or this is some weird prank you're pulling, I swear to God, Stiles…" But he doesn't get to finish that, because Stiles is pulling a pocket knife out of his drawer, and while his father is talking he slices it through his hand. "What are you DOING?" His father yells, taking his hand into his, making him drop the knife, and both of them stare at his palm.

And John stops trying to get Stiles to get up, because the cut is closing – as easily and as simply as if someone was pulling an invisible zipper inside his hand. The cut closes up in a matter of seconds, it isn't a deep cut, and all that's left from it is the blood that spilled.

John raises his eyes and stares open mouthed at Stiles, his son's eyes an eerie greyish color, the color of ash that is still warm by the fire that has left it behind.

"I told you I could prove it." He says quietly, his voice deeper.

"My God." John whispers, and Stiles takes a deep breath, calming his wolf down. It's not easy, but this is his dad, and he won't hurt him. Never.

As John is still staring at his son, he sees Stiles's eyes go back to normal, and he's left open mouthed, and feeling as if the whole world shifted under his feet.

"That's why no murder is making sense. That's why there's always so much missing to make the cases look convincing, and that's why you and Scott are ALWAYS IN THE MIDDLE OF IT! By God, Stiles, what are you THINKING messing with… with… WEREWOLVES?!"

Okay. In the various scenarios Stiles has imagined as to how this would go his father being worriedly pissed at his talent to get into trouble wasn't one of them.

"I'm… sorry? In my defense, I didn't even ask to be turned; and I had to take Scott being co-captain, and getting kissed by Lydia, and being shoved around as the sidekick, and I took it all calmly. I wouldn't have been changed, ever, if I had any say in it, but, apparently, I smell too good for my own good?" He finishes with a cheeky smile, and John shakes his head, staring at Stiles, clearly not knowing what he should do.

"I need you to… To tell me what this… means. And, those things in the police station? The Matt boy. What was he? And what killed those officers? Gods, Stiles, was that a wolf? I don't… I don't even know what to ask you." He finishes, and Stiles pats him on the shoulder.

"If I were you, I'd just take it in stride, dad. Don't even think about rationalizing this stuff, because it's not worth it." John gives a startled laugh, and Stiles looks down, smiling just the tiniest bit bitterly.

"I really am sorry, dad. For everything. I just… I wish I could keep out of trouble sometimes, you know? You don't… You don't deserve this shit." He's looking down, and the tears that were threatening to make an appearance before come again. He blinks hard, once, twice, and his throat is closing on him. He can't swallow properly.

His dad is quiet, and Stiles can't quite make himself look at him and maybe see him agreeing that yes, he's way too much trouble. He's too much to be dealt with. He's always getting into situations where his dad is the one that has to come up to his rescue, and he's not easy to be around. It's ADHD, and his mood swings, and his werewolfishness, and his existence pretty much.

"Is that what you think, son?" John asks, and Stiles risks a peek at his father's expression, looking up at him with his head still bowed, his eyes trimmed with tears he's trying very hard not to let fall.

He shrugs, and looks down again, because his dad is doing the you can't tell what I'm thinking look, and that's never good.

Stiles feels his dad's hand on his shoulder, and he lets out a small sob, because he can't hold it in – it's not quite a sob, it's a whoosh of air he can't keep and that makes his shoulder shake just a bit. Sobbing is for girls, he's a tough werewolf now, he's done sobbing.

"Stiles, look at me." When he keeps refusing to raise his head, his dad comes closer, and put one of his arms around him, pulling him close, "Look at me, son."

He lets his eyes finally meet his dad's, and there's nothing there but love, and acceptance, and a tiny bit of grief.

"No matter how much trouble you get into, it's never going to be trouble enough to make me regret having you, or to make me not love you more and more every day that passes by. You're everything to me, son. And if this Hale changed you because the other option was you dying, then we'll just deal with this thing, as we've dealt with everything else that's come into our lives." He stares at Stiles seriously, and the boy can feel a few tears sliding down his cheeks. His father smiles sadly at him, "Sometimes I feel I didn't do a good job after your mom…" His voice stops working, and he swallows hard before continuing, "After she passed away. You're always taking care of me, and I do my best for you, but I feel, sometimes, that you think I'd rather you weren't here, and, Stiles, that's the only thing I'll never, ever wish, son. You are everything to me."

Stiles suddenly can't take it anymore, and he throws himself at his dad, who holds him with everything he has, and he lets all the tears out. His father rubs his back, and he knows the man is crying too. They used to never let the other see them cry, in those first days when his mom had passed away, but one day he was crying alone, and his dad walked in on him, and he didn't say anything, he just sat by side, and let him cry – and cried with him. And that seemed to make things a little less bad.

This was it, all over again. Stiles doesn't even know why he feels so bad about all of this, because rationally, he knows it's not really his fault – not his been bitten, anyway -, but he feels as if he's letting his dad down again, and now the man has to deal with this too.

He just wanted once, just once, not to have to burden his father more and more because he's a magnet for trouble – but it warms his heart to know his father is not lying.

"I'm sorry." He whispers, and his dad doesn't answer, he just holds him.

Things are quiet for a few moments, and Stiles at least tries to get himself back together. He finally gets away from his dad's embrace, and the man is just looking at him as if he's trying to gather whether Stiles is going to have a mental breakdown or something.

"Well, now you have the dog you've always wanted and I never let you get." He says, and his father snorts a bit, shaking his head. He's about to say something when Stiles holds a hand up, and sniffs the air. His father looks confused by this, but does keep quiet.

Stiles goes slowly to the window, and sniffs again.

"Shit." He says, and John looks worried.

Stiles moves away from the window, locking it, and is already taking his phone out of his pocket, dialing hurriedly, and pulling his dad by the hand after him, going downstairs, to the kitchen.

"Stiles, what is it?" John asks.

"Just… Shit, Derek!" He screams when the person on the other end of the phone call answers, "He's here." He says, and his voice is full of fear.

"I'm on my way." Derek answers and the line goes dead.

"Stiles!" His father says, but there's a crash in one of the windows. They hear glass breaking and a long, drawn out snarl.

There's scratching on the ceiling, and Stiles and John both know there's something upstairs.

The Sheriff takes his gun out of its holder, and Stiles actually tries to shove his dad behind him, and they have half a fight over who is going to be in front of whom.

The scratching gets worse, and reaches the stairs.

"Come on, Derek." Stiles says, and he can practically feel his dad staring at him at this.

But then his attention is taken away from Stiles's apparently trust in the accused murderer, because there's a freaking half-wolf coming down the stairs. He drags his nails on the walls, drawing out the sound, his shadowy form becoming clearer and clearer. The eyes are the first thing they can see, a bluish glow, spiking blue and normal, as if it can't decide on what to truly be.

"Ah, my little puppy. Hiding behind daddy, dear?" His voice is rough and mocking, and Stiles absolutely freezes.

This is not some crazy, raging, murdering werewolf. This is a conscious Peter Hale, here not to kill him, but to do something much, much worse than that.

"What do you want, Peter?" he says, taking a few steps back, and his voice is not half as firm as he'd like, but Peter's attention is not on him, it's on his dad and the gun he's got pointed at him.

"How about you tell your dad you're coming with me, and I don't kill him before I take what's mine, huh?" The man suggests, coming closer slowly.

"I don't think that's going to happen." John says, and shoots.

Peter screams, his voice loud and half animalistic, but Stiles knows it's just from the pain – he'll heal, and then they are screwed.

The older werewolf roars, and starts shifting, snarling the whole time.

"Dad! You have to get out of here!" Stiles screams, but his dad won't budge.

"What can kill that thing?" He simply asks, all business, and Stiles shakes his head, and the wolf is coming towards them. He screams, trying to protect his dad with his body while his dad tries to do the same with him, but the hit never comes.

Because through the open window in the living room a much bigger wolf's come in, and he knocks Peter out of his jump, breaking the kitchen table in the process. Stiles looks on, not knowing what to do. Change and help Derek? But what if he loses control and hurts his dad?

His father, on the other hand, is shooting at Peter – not a single miss, and he doesn't hurt Derek even once. Oh, well, nice to know his dad won't be shooting the nice wolves then.

The two tear half their house apart, and it isn't a pretty sight. Peter might be smaller, but he's more experienced, and he's got the whole crazy thing on his side. But Derek is an Alpha with three Betas and a Mate – not claimed, but his all the same. He keeps knocking Peter down, and the wolf gets up every time, defending itself, and trying to get at Stiles. He and his father end up simply trying to keep out of the way when John realizes his shooting is not even slowing the smaller wolf down anymore, and they end up at a corner in the kitchen, losing sight of the fight when Derek throws Peter into the living room.

There are roars and snarls, and suddenly a yelp of pain and crashing glass.

Stiles is breathing hard, and trying to go to the other room to check on Derek, but his dad's hand is holding him, dragging him behind John.

They take two careful steps towards the living room when Derek shows up – not changed anymore, just reddish eyes, as if they don't quite want to turn back into blue yet.

Derek makes a beeline for Stiles, not even sparing John a glance, taking him by the arms, and looking him over.

"What did he do?" He bites out in his very pleasant and polite manner, as always, and Stiles just shakes his head vehemently.

"Nothing. He didn't even touch me, I swear." He says, and Derek keeps on looking, making Stiles nervous, "Dad shot him, though!" He says, but Derek doesn't seem to hear him, making a broken kind of sound, as if he's trying very hard not to do something.

And the something becomes clear when he pulls Stiles to him and kisses him hard and bruising. It's fast and hot and fearful. His mouth barely has the time to respond when Derek lets him go, staring at him again.

"Mine." He snarls, and Stiles nods along.

"Yours." He confirms it, because Derek looks on the verge of wolfing out again.

They stare at each other for a few seconds, and suddenly there's the sound of a throat cleaning, and Stiles closes his eyes. He feels Derek shift a bit, and when he risks a look, he sees his dad with the gun still in his hand, looking at them – and he is not happy.

"So, dad, about that whole I'm with a guy thing? This is him." He says with a nervous smile.

This is going to be so awkward.

Leave me by the churchyard
Leave me on my own

I must confess one of the things I most enjoy about this ship is the fact that Stiles is the Sheriff's son. It's just so bahsdfg can't even.

Thank you for your amazing support, it means the world to me that you're enjoying it! Hope you liked this one too! New chapter will be up tomorrow, tell me what you think!

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