Hey! Sorry for such a late update. I'm back in school and it's going to be taking up an exponential amount of my time, but I'll try and be as update-y as possible.

I'm glad you guys like spark!Stiles as much as I do! Some of my favorite fics deal with spark!Stiles and there's just so much that could be done with that arc – and it allows Stiles to remain human, which would be awesome.

Anywho! This chapter will probably be full of feels. ALL OF THEM BECAUSE I LOVE THESE CHARACTERS, OKAY.

Chapter 10

Pack

So… werewolves are a thing.

It should surprise Stiles more than it actually does. It explains Derek Hale, at least.

Neither of the Stilinskis got any sleep that night, their conversations heading deep into the darkness of the night. A few times the Sheriff tried to get Stiles to open up about his foster experience, but he held onto those words firmly. If he was to be believe – if he really was this Stiles kid that everyone seems so distraught over – then he knows better than to burden his own father with the knowledge of his foster experience.

So instead, the Sheriff goes into this long-winded spiel about werewolves, which seemed so ridiculous at the time, but not so much anymore.

"Technically, I'm not supposed to tell you any of this," the Sheriff says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. Stiles noticed he did that whenever he was nervous – a trait Stiles shares. "They're concerned for a break in your reality, similar to what happened in the classroom with the riddles."

Stiles froze at that information for a moment. "Does Stiles – I mean, me…? Oh fuck," Stiles breathes, closing his eyes. "This is a lot to take in, sorry."

"That's alright, son."

"Was there an incident with riddles?"

The Sheriff's jaw clenches and Stiles can actually feel the tension rolling off of him. "Yes," he mutters quietly. "You don't talk about it often. Actually – almost not at all. We never really knew what fully happened, but it was horrible."

"I'm sorry you all had to go through that."

Stiles knows it's not the right thing to say, but he says it anyways. He's having trouble wrapping his mind around the idea that he may be this lost… son, or whatever. He can't bring himself to use 'we' or 'I' or whatever he should be using, because there's a small part of him that doesn't quite believe it. Okay, a big part.

Huge.

Stiles sighs, wishing he was old enough to have a drink. Maybe that would make this all easier to handle. "Listen," Stiles says, watching as the sky lightens. It's really beautiful when the sky wakes up and he feels a little better about everything. "I need to take Claudia on a walk before school."

The Sheriff straightens, his face going alarmingly blank. Stiles frowns, unsure of what he did to cause such a formal change, but then it strikes him. "I'd like it if you came along," Stiles says hastily, unable to shake the haunting feeling in his gut when this man (his father?) went so cold. "Of course, you don't have to, but I—"

"Yes."

The words are quick and firm, removing any time for Stiles to work himself in a panic over it. So instead, he grins, grabbing Claudia's leash from the hallway and leading the happy dog out the door. As soon as the fresh air hits Stiles' face, his eyes start to water. He can't help it. He blames it on the sting of the fresh morning, but it's really overwhelming – everything he's learned.

"You okay, son?"

Theoretically, Stiles knows that's a common phrase. People call teens 'son' all the time – especially cops. But when the Sheriff says it, it absolutely destroys him. He clutches Claudia's leash a little tighter and the dog flinches at the tension, drawing back. Stiles continues to walk, but refuses to look at the Sheriff. Luckily, the man doesn't pressure him to continue on, but just waits.

"It's just," Stiles wipes his eyes, focusing on Claudia, who's now fallen in line with him. "I know you guys really want this Stiles' kid back and while all the evidence points that we're the same person – and sure, it all makes logical sense – but apparently we live in a world where werewolves are a thing. So logic doesn't really need to apply here."

"Listen," The Sheriff says quality. "I know you're a smart kid. And I'm not going to make you uncomfortable, or at least try not to. But don't you think it's peculiar that everything that could help you figure out who you are – your past, parents, friends – mysteriously vanished with that car crash? That you chose Beacon Hills out of any place to live? That you named your dog after my wife – your mother?"

"Like I said," Stiles huffs. "Logically, everything supports it. I mean, I'm not stupid. But… let's say we figure all of this out. Let's say that we get my memories back and it turns out my name is Stuart. I am some stupid foster kid who lost his family in a car crash and happened upon Beacon Hills. Do you know what that would do to me?"

The Sheriff remains quiet.

"Because for you guys? Yeah, it would suck, don't get me wrong. To think you have your son back and Scott has his best friend and Lydia has that guy she was in love with or whatever. But you'd be fine. You'd have each other and you'd make it work. You guys have this super awesome support system and you'd continue on. But me?

"Me? I don't have that support system. I've been alone since I can remember. And now suddenly I'm thrust into every foster kid's dream that they actually have a place where they belong and a family who loves them. But something just happened that made him forget, but he really has a family. For me? If this all turns out to not be true? I'd be devastated. Absolutely devastated. And I know myself well enough to know that I would not recover from that. So I can't bring myself to instantly accept everything because if this goes wrong, I'll be all on my own. Again."

The Sheriff doesn't respond right away. Stiles can tell that he's coming up with the best way to phrase whatever it is he has to say, but keeps opening his mouth without any response.

"No."

That's it. That's what Stiles gets. A part of him is even a little upset over it. Actually, he opens his mouth to argue, but the Sheriff puts his hand up.

"You heard me right. No. Absolutely not. I reject that." The Sheriff states. "Regardless of the fact that I have insurmountable proof that you are, in fact, my son, even if there was some horrible twist in fate, we would not leave you. We would not just ship you back off into social services and forget about you. We would never do that." The Sheriff claps a hand on Stiles' shoulder. "We've got your back now, kid. You have to get used to that."

Stiles looks at the sky so he doesn't show the Sheriff that he's now officially crying. But it's a thing that's happening. He can't really stop it.

"I want to trust you," Stiles says softly. "It scares me how much I want to trust you – how much I already trust. I don't know you."

The Sheriff lets out a noise that Sheriff knows is intense hurt. But he doesn't know what to do. "I don't know anything but being alone," he mutters. "That's why I got Claudia." It doesn't go unnoticed that the Sheriff flinches. "I spent the past two years trying to calm myself down from panic attacks and figure out where I belong. I'm not good at either of those. I-I used to just wait for them to be over. But you stopped mine. Y-You—" Stiles choked. "You stopped it. Besides Claudia, you're the first person to be there for me. I don't know what to do with that."

The Sheriff hesitates. Then, he mutters, "Aw, fuck it." And sweeps Stiles into a hug. He clutches him close to his chest, wrapping his arms around Stiles like the time at the station. "I'm sorry, I need this." The Sheriff huffs in his ear. "I know it's selfish, but… but I haven't seen you in over a year. You have a death certificate. I nearly lost my job because they found out I was using company resources to try and find you after you were declared dead. You have a stone next to your mother." The last word comes out as a sob.

"I do?"

"Yeah," the Sheriff chokes. "They said it would help me move on. Help me put you behind me. I didn't want to do it. I didn't think my heart could break more than when I buried my wife. I didn't think that anything could be any worse than that. But then I buried you. I had a stone made that looked like your mother's and I watched as they put it in the ground.

"I-I can't explain—" Sheriff shudders. "Watching that happen is something… there isn't a word for to explain. I haven't been back there since. I can't bring myself to think about being the last one. It's… it's too much."

Stiles isn't sure what to do. A part of him wants to get rid of this awkward hug, but another feels like that awful hole that was in his chest is finally closing up. He finds himself clutching the Sheriff tighter.

"So, do you want me to keep calling you Stuart?" The Sheriff asks quietly.

Stiles thinks about it. Because, he's not Stiles. At least, not in his head.

"Yeah," he sighs. "I-I just don't… I mean, it's hard… but—"

"I get it, son, I get it."

Stiles doesn't squeeze tighter when the Sheriff says 'son.' He doesn't.

XXX

Scott finds himself outside Derek's loft, his hands a little shaky. He feels like he should be more independent, but he can't bring himself to be so. He knocks a few times, revealing a good-humored Derek on the other side. "Surprised that you waited a whole fourteen hours to come and visit me. Come on in." He holds the door open and Scott stomps in.

"What is Peter doing?" Scott asks.

Derek makes a face. "Wow, you really don't mess around. There wasn't even a cursory 'how's your life'?"

Scott sighs. "I'm sorry, I have a lot on my mind."

"I'm kidding, Scott." Derek laughs, clapping his hand on Scott's shoulder. "Let's talk, let's figure it out."

Scott looks at him, wondering if he's being serious. But then Derek does that thing with his eyebrows and so Scott sighs. "When did you last speak with Peter?"

"Last week."

"Did you—"

"Did I ask if he kidnapped your best friend and tortured him to the point of amnesia? No I did not."

"Dude, this isn't a joke!" Scott shouts and he can feel his eyes burn red, so he blinks a few times to calm himself down. Derek sighs.

"I know, Scott. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make light of the situation." Derek says calmly. "But think of this rationally. Peter has been among us this entire time. Do you really think that the two of us – a born werewolf and True Alpha – would not be able to realize that he took Stiles? Really?"

Scott growls. "I know, but dude—"

"Don't call me dude, Scott, how many times do I have to say this, God!"

"—there has been connectivity between your place and the Argents and—"

"That's because I've been contacting Chris Argent." Derek sighs. "I know that losing his daughter must've been difficult. And I know what it's like to lose all your family. I thought he might appreciate knowing that I was here for him, if he wanted. We've been emailing because some things you just can't say to someone's face. Particularly someone who you used to hunt."

Scott falters. "It was you? You were using the Internet?"

"Good God, I'm not a Martian. I know how to use the Internet."

"Whatever. You've been contacting Argent? Why didn't you say anything?"

"You didn't say anything until that moment." Derek says. "If you kept me in the loop better, I'd be able to answer these questions. I'm sorry."

Scott closes his eyes. "Sorry, I just… this means that it was someone else."

Derek nods. "You were hoping it was Kate and Peter."

Scott looks at his feet. "Is that a bad thing?"

"No," Derek says. "It means that you're human."

Scott looks at him quizzically. "What do you mean?"

"Scott, evil isn't limited to Beacon Hills." Derek says quietly. "It's not something that disappears when you go outside the city limits. Sure, we've had our fair share of evil, but it's just a small percentage of what exists in the world. We live in a world where people burn families to the ground and friends disappear for years at a time. But that's just one ring of evil. There's certain to be more that exists. And while it might be easier if Kate and Peter were behind it, but don't go looking for evil where it doesn't exist."

Scott doesn't have an answer to that.

Derek claps a hand on his shoulder. "Scott, you're a good Alpha. Stiles disappearing was not your fault. And it does not reflect your skills as an Alpha. It was an unfortunate incident that happened. Bad things happen and sometimes it's no one's fault. Bad things happen in the world. Sometimes we can't stop it."

"But we have to." Scott insists. "Because if we can't stop it, what's the point?"

Derek opens his mouth to argue, but Scott's pocket buzzes. He pulls his phone out and freezes. "Oh God,"

"What now?"

"Stiles figured it out. The Sheriff just texted me. He doesn't remember, but he put all the signs together that he's Stiles. They're on a walk right now, talking."

Derek snorts.

"What?"

Derek shrugs. "I'm just not surprised. Did anyone actually think that he wouldn't figure it out?"

Scott can't help but chuckle. "I'm gonna go and try and talk with them on the walk. You wanna come?"

Derek shakes his head. "No thank you."

"Dude," Scott says.

"Don't call me—"

"You're avoiding him." Scott states.

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"I ran into him at the forest. That's not avoiding him."

"You don't talk at meetings. You've avoided him when we're all together. What's up?" Scott asks.

"What am I supposed to say, Scott?" Derek asks. "He was taken because you guys were in Mexico, trying to find me. It's my fault. If you weren't in Mexico, this never would've happened."

"You were just giving me a lecture about how it wasn't my fault. Derek, this is so not your fault."

"You were in Mexico."

"Stiles is not your fault." Scott says firmly.

"He's not yours."

XXX

Stiles and the Sheriff continue down the road in an uncomfortable silence. The Sheriff knows that he should've been more sensitive. But he couldn't help it. His son figured it out and he's back.

But not really.

The Sheriff isn't sure which is worst to be honest.

A rumbling starts from the woods. Claudia's ears flatten, a growl rumbling in the back of her throat. Stiles frowns. "What's up, buddy? You okay?"

Claudia starts barking, her eyes growing fierce in a way the Sheriff never saw before. "Is everything okay?" he asks.

"I don't know, she's never acted like this before—" Stiles says.

Then, Claudia bolts from the two, ripping the leash out of Stiles' hand. "Wait!" Stiles shouts. "Wait, Claudia – no!"

Stiles sprints off, the Sheriff's eyes widening. "Stiles!" He shouts after him, his heart racing. "Stiles – Stuart – no, don't go into the forest! It's not safe!"

"Claudia!" Stiles shouts, sprinting further, not heeding anything the Sheriff says.

"Stiles, please!" the Sheriff bellows, a panic racing through him.

He hasn't felt like this in a while. Because this couldn't happen. He just got his son back. He isn't going to lose his son in this goddamn forest. It's not happening.

"Stiles!"

"Oh my God," the Sheriff hears Stiles breathe, pressing him to race further. Maybe he should've taken Stiles seriously about the whole arteries thing.

The Sheriff bursts into a clearing in the forest, drawing his gun as soon as he does so. "Stiles!"

But he doesn't know what to do.

In the middle of the clearing is a beast. There's no other way to describe it. There's an animal at the base of the tree line, his face pulled back in a snarl. The paws reach out, clawing at Claudia's leg. "Stop, please!" Stiles cries, taking a step forward.

"Stop!" The Sheriff shouts. "Please, Stiles, just stop!"

But Stiles doesn't listen. He moves closer to the animal. "Please," he begs.

The animal growls, his eyes flashing a deep red. Stiles stutters backwards. It leaves Claudia on the ground, a pool of red seeping in the ground around her hind legs. It steps over her, the growls increasing as it makes it closer to Stiles.

"Step back!" Sheriff shouts, unable to find a good shot with Stiles so close. "Stiles – shit – Stuart, step back! Get back here!"

But his eyes are wide and he's tripping over his feet. The Sheriff uses the opportunity of Stiles on the ground to raise his gun once more. He fires a few times, but the beast doesn't even falter. He moves closer to Stiles, his teeth bared.

"NO!"

Just before the Sheriff can reach him, something else bounds out of the woods, tackling the monster. Stiles lets out a holler, frozen as the two wrestle on the ground. The beast lets out a whimper and as soon as it's free of the grip of the intruder, it bounds off.

"Are you guys alright?"

The Sheriff keeps his gun poised until he notices the second person shifting a bit. "Scott," the Sheriff breathes. "Thank God."

Scott is back to normal when the Sheriff reaches him. "What happened?"

The Sheriff offers Stiles a hand, but he doesn't take it. "Claudia!" Stiles shouts, scrambling to his feet. "Claudia, oh my God!"

He runs over, placing his thin fingers over her wound. Blood seeps through his fingers as he chokes. "Sheriff, Scott! Please!"

The Sheriff watches as Scott jogs over, his face horrified. The Sheriff shakes his head. It doesn't even matter the species. Scott will always be Scott.

"We'll take him to my work – I work part time at the veterinary clinic." Scott says.

"Please say she'll be okay," Stiles says, tears welling in his eyes. "She's all I have.

She's all I have."

A/N: Sorry so late and a little shorter! I'm so busy right now and I'm trying my best to keep updating. But now the meat! A new monster? Only took 40K. Oh my gosh, this is the SLOWEST burn of all time. Lol.

Please leave a note if you have the time! Much Love!