A/N: For everyone who read and commented - hugs galore! You just don't know how much it means to me to get that sort of feedback when I've gone off-trail from my OTP. I'm humbled that you care about this AU world as much as I do. You're all magnificent ... hope you like the ending.
Derek stood on what remained of the main house porch and stared at the black, smoking ground that had been his home. Scott stood beside him and Derek could smell unshed tears. It was a scent that seemed to be everywhere in Beacon Hills even now, weeks after the attack. Humans and werewolves alike had buried their dead but the impact of the Hunter's led by Kate Chasseur would be felt for generations.
The Hale pack had been decimated. Some who hadn't been taken in the fire had been killed by Kate and her snipers when they emerged. Derek wondered if he was ever going to be able to get the vision of bodies lying scattered across the ground out of his head. He wondered if he was ever going to be able to sleep again without hearing the accusatory voices of the dead.
Sensing Derek's thoughts, Scott put a hand on the new alpha's shoulder. "Derek, you couldn't have known … none of us knew or even realized."
"I failed my pack in so many ways, Scott … failed the people I care about most in this world," Derek sighed. He looked over at Scott. "How's Allison?"
"The Hunters wanted a vendetta but her father denied it … he said Kate acted outside their Code. She killed innocents … not werewolves who were endangering humans" Scott said softly. He decided to breach the topic no one was mentioning. "Derek … the pack wants to know about Peter."
Derek's shoulders slumped. "I know. I just ... how did things get to this, Scott?"
Scott remained silent. Peter Hale, in addition to his abuse of younger pack members, had allied with Kate in an effort to seize the alpha position. The plan had been that Kate and her Hunters would kill Talia and other key members of the Hale line to clear a path for him. He would then step into the power void left behind. Unfortunately, Kate had been just a little bit more conniving than even Peter. She'd betrayed him by trapping him in the house with the others. Watching his family – his pack – die so horribly had broken the werewolf completely. He'd been mad to begin with but now he was completely insane. If Kate hadn't shot him so many times before he'd reached her, no one would have been able to stop Peter afterward. He was a mad, blood-drunk wolf that would kill anything that got close enough. Kate's wolfsbane bullets had weakened him enough that the pack could bring him down. That they hadn't moved quickly enough to stop Peter from tearing Kate and a few other Hunters into unrecognizable lumps of meat … well, it had been a very confusing day and no one could be certain what happened.
Peter was now restrained in a nearby medical facility that catered to werewolves. He was scarred from head to toe from the fire but he would eventually heal. Peter's mind, however, was gone. For his part in the massacre, the pack wanted Peter dead. And they wanted it to occur very slowly and painfully. As the new alpha, Derek had to decide Peter's fate. He was still dealing with the fact that the pack still trusted him enough to be alpha.
"I'll decide today, Scott," Derek assured the beta. He swallowed and asked about the other that was always in his thoughts. "How … how is he?"
Scott didn't look at Derek. "His dad says he still sleeps a lot. Deaton's worried that he's not eating enough – it's not healthy for him or the pup."
Derek nodded. "Do you think – do you think he'd want to see me?"
"I don't know if he'll want to, Derek, but you're his alpha. The pack is shattered … we all need each other right now," Scott advised.
Derek looked at Scott, impressed. "Mom was right … you will be a good alpha. Better than me."
"Nah … just good in my own way," Scott deflected. "But right now this is my pack … and I want to help pull it back together."
Derek knocked with great apprehension. When John Stilinski answered the door, the two men stared at one another. Derek spoke hurriedly.
"I'm not here other than as pack alpha … I'm visiting everyone. Everyone that's left," Derek thought Stiles' father should have been an alpha … the man was terrifying and he hadn't even said anything yet.
"Just starting with my son?"
Before Derek could say anything else, a tired voice said, "Dad, it's ok. Let him in … he's telling the truth."
John stepped back but restrained Derek briefly before he could walk to the stairs. "Hurt him again and I will not care if you are my alpha, understood?"
Derek's eyes shimmered red for a moment but then he calmed and nodded. John released his arm and Derek went up to Stiles' old room. Just as he raised his hand, Stiles opened the door. Derek had to bite back his initial outburst.
Stiles smelled as if he hadn't bathed in days. His hair was tousled beyond its usual unkempt state. His skin was paler than normal and his eyes were dull amber. He wore only his sleep pants and a tshirt and the bed was a wreck. Essentially, Stiles was the walking epitome of a grieving mate.
Whatever Derek had planned to say, whatever comfort he could have given, he abandoned. Instead, Derek grabbed Stiles and enveloped him in a hug. He winced as his arms closed around a painfully thin frame. Stiles pushed back hard but he was too weak to dislodge himself from the alpha's embrace. He settled for slamming his fists into Derek's back while fresh sobs tore themselves from his throat.
"It's all your fault! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!"
Derek said nothing. He simply held onto the young man. Eventually, Stiles tired as his anger ran its course and he was left holding a whimpering, crying omega. Derek gently lifted Stiles up and carried him to the bathroom. There, he easily stripped Stiles down while he ran a bath. Stiles said nothing when Derek put him in the tub. Derek began to wash Stiles' hair and for a while there was only the vague splashing of water and Derek's hands working through the suds.
"I miss him so much … I keep waking up thinking he's there and then he's not. He's just not." Stiles whispered.
"Close your eyes," Derek said as he rinsed Stiles' hair.
As he lathered the washcloth and began to wash Stiles like he was a small child, Derek spoke slowly.
"I'm so sorry, Stiles. I never meant … any of this to happen. Any of it. Losing you, Kate, Peter, the fire …I never meant to fuck up so totally," Derek said hoarsely.
Stiles sighed and hugged his knees to his chest. He rested his forehead against them while Derek ran the cloth over his back in broad, strong strokes.
"Not your fault, sourwolf. Not all of it. You know that," Stiles said, turning his head to look at Derek.
"Feels like it. Come on, rinse and let's get you back in bed," Derek replied.
While they'd been in the bathroom, Stiles' father had changed the bedding and laid out fresh clothes. Derek let Stiles change and then burrow under the blankets again. He sat on the edge of the bed and ran his fingers through Stiles' hair.
"I need your help, Stiles," Derek said finally.
"No you don't."
"I do. Stiles, the pack … Scott will do what he can, but you really know the pack. You know how to read people … that sixth sense Jackson was always talking about," Derek rebutted.
Stiles raised his head. "He talked to you about me?"
Derek smiled. "Of course he did. Once you pupped no one could get him to stop talking about you. I think Danny was ready to tranq him at one point."
Stiles lay his head back down and wiped at his eyes. "Wasn't supposed to go like this."
Derek shook his head. "No it wasn't … you were supposed to drive all of us nuts when that pup was born. Jackson would have been insufferable … he added a nursery onto the house plans when you pupped. He was definitely nesting."
Stiles sniffed again. "Had plans for the new house already done … was gonna start on it after the pup was b-b-born … what am I gonna do without him? I can't do this without him."
Derek swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. "You won't be alone, Stiles. You've still got the pack … in fact, that's why they need you so much."
Stiles frowned. "What are you talking about?"
"Stiles … your pup is new life. We've lost so much but life continues … your pup is proof of that," Derek said. "I need you, Stiles. I'm not asking as anything other than your alpha … and your friend."
Stiles regarded Derek and then he nodded slowly. Then came the question he hadn't wanted to ask anyone but he needed to know.
"What about Peter?"
Derek looked down. "The pack wants him dead."
"So do I … he took everything from me," Stiles growled.
Derek nodded. "He took everything from a lot of people. I'll decide today what to do with him."
"Derek?"
"Yeah?"
"I really loved Jackson."
Derek pressed a soft kiss against Stiles' forehead. "He was the luckiest werewolf on the planet for that. Take care of yourself, Stiles … take care of your pup. You know Jackson would kick your ass if he saw you like this."
Stiles began to cry again and Derek held him through it. By the time he left, Derek had the courage to do what needed to be done. Although he grieved having to kill his last remaining relative, Derek did not falter in his resolve. Peter Hale did not survive to see the next sunrise. The pack was satisfied and Derek knew they were going to come back … possibly stronger than before.
THREE YEARS LATER . . .
"Where's Jack?" Stiles asked suddenly.
Stiles looked frantically around himself and under a table decked out in a table cloth that had far too many primary colored polka dots on it. Children, human and werewolf, were running everywhere while the adults tried to keep the chaos to a minimum. In the midst of everything, a high-pitched squeal caught Stiles ear and he turned to see his best friend, Scott walking stiff legged-across the lawn with giggling pups hanging from each arm and one wrapped tightly around each leg. Stiles' son Jack was latched onto the left one.
When he exhaled in relief, Stiles heard a deep chuckle from nearby. He looked over to see his father reclining in a lawn chair with a cup of iced tea looking far too smug.
"You're enjoying this way too much, dad," Stiles grinned.
John Stilinski sipped his tea and smiled knowingly back. Ever since Jack had learned to walk, Stiles hadn't had a peaceful minute except when the pup was asleep. He'd inherited his father's need to know everything so he investigated everything. Of course, being a werewolf by blood, Jack could hear, see and smell things normal human children couldn't so the world was one big curiosity. Coupled with werewolf speed and strength, Jack Jonathan Stilinski-Whittemore was a Tasmanian devil on small legs. Stiles hoped that when he got older, more of Jackson's temperament would emerge – the careful, considering side. It was a pipe-dream, but Stiles clung to it.
Stiles plucked the dark blonde pup from Scott's leg. "Come on, you – it's your party so you have to blow out the candles."
Jack did so with his usual dramatics and the distribution of cake began. Stiles slumped into a chair beside Scott's mate, Allison. A plate with a piece of cake rested on her rounded midsection. Stiles grinned.
"Great built-in table, right?"
Allison laughed. "Yes, but yours wasn't this big!"
"Yeah, well I wasn't carrying twins," Stiles teased.
"Another week. Just one more week," Allison said fervently.
Stiles chuckled. "You really think Scott's spawn is gonna do things on schedule? Jack's definitely Jackson's cuz that kid does everything right on schedule … weight, growth, dexterity … he checks all the boxes when he's supposed to. Unless they take after you, your pups'll be lucky to find the door."
Stiles winced when a hand smacked him on the back of the head.
"That's my mate and pups you're talking about, Stiles!" Scott warned but with a large grin on his face.
"Hey … I'm not the one who got lost twice his first day of junior high, dude," Stiles reminded him.
"It's a big school!"
"You had a map!"
Allison watched the two fondly begin a wrestling match that devolved into a free-for-all when other male members of the pack joined in and a literal dog pile ensued. Allison looked over as Derek sat down beside her, shaking his head.
"Didn't think you'd make it, alpha," Allison said with a smile.
"As your mate constantly reminds me, I need to stay in touch with my pack on a more … personal level," Derek replied with a grin.
"Aphwa!" Came a small voice beside Derek.
Derek looked down into the heterochromatic eyes of Stiles son, Jack. One amber and one blue-green eye regarded him with some glee.
"Hey, Jack … happy birthday," Derek said.
"Thank 'oo," Jack replied while climbing into Derek's lap.
Derek shifted to give the pup more room and was surprised when he leaned against Derek's chest and played with a button on the Henley he wore. Derek looked at Allison who had a Mona Lisa smile on her face.
The dog pile began to break up and parents began collecting children and pups. Stiles startled when he noticed Jack in Derek's lap. He walked over with Scott, ready to retrieve his pup.
"Sorry 'bout that, Derek," Stiles said reaching for his son.
Derek waved him off. "He's worn out from what looks like a very busy day. Where can I put him down?"
Stiles led the way to Jack's room. Derek laid him in the small bed. Stiles pulled off his shoes and pulled an afghan over him before switching on the monitor and going back to the kitchen. Derek sat down at the island and watched Stiles begin clean-up.
"You want something to drink that isn't kool-aid?" Stiles asked. "I still keep that wolfsbane brand beer you and Scott like … I still don't know how you can drink that crap. Jackson liked it too."
Derek laughed at the face Stiles made and accepted the proffered bottle. "Three years old … they say it goes fast but I just can't believe it."
Stiles sat down with a fond smile. "Yeah … little guy keeps me on my toes, that's for damn sure. I'm just waiting for Scott's tales of woe when the twins get here."
Derek rolled his eyes. "God … the next generation of Scott and Stiles. Maybe I should warn the pack …"
"Ha. Ha." Stiles said flatly. "Glad you could make it though … Jack kept asking where the 'aphwa' was."
"Yes, he seemed happy I came … oh, hang on … I got him a gift. You can open it."
"Hell no … he'll never let me forget it. That he definitely got from Jackson … he wants to do it all himself. Everything. Thank God he got Jackson's quick pick-up time too or who knows what he'd look like when he dressed in the morning," Stiles smiled. "We'll open it tonight before bed. I'll text you what he thinks."
"Cool," Derek said, swallowing another large gulp of beer. "I better go … have to prep for my presentation to the Council tomorrow."
"Scott'll do the run-through with you … I think me an' Danny did a pretty mean job, if I do say so myself."
"You always do," Derek agreed.
Stiles walked Derek to the door. As the alpha stepped out the door, he looked back at Stiles. "How are you doing, Stiles? Really?"
"I'm doing ok, sourwolf. There are still days but seeing the main house go back up and the pack starting to heal over the past few years has been good for me. And, of course, Jack … I don't know what I'd do without him," Stiles said.
"I was wondering … um, if you wanted to go into the city for the Council meeting? Scott's coming back early because of Allison, but there's a place that has the best steaks. I haven't been in a while and I hate eating alone," Derek said quickly.
Stiles sighed. "I'm not up to a date, Derek."
"Nobody said the word date ... I'm just asking for your company while I have dinner."
"Which sounds kinda like a date since it'll just be me and you."
Derek blew out a breath. "You know, I shouldn't have asked … sorry. I hope Jack –"
"Derek, wait."
Derek turned back. Stiles ran a hand over his face. "Sorry … I just … it's hard, you know? Especially Jack's birthdays. I keep thinking how Jackson never got to meet his pup … never got to know what a great little guy he is."
"I'm an idiot … I didn't think—sorry, Stiles," Derek apologized.
Stiles shook his head. "You don't have to apologize, Derek. Just … yeah, I'd like to go have dinner tomorrow night but … dude, I don't think I have anything else to give you."
Derek swallowed hard. "No sense pretending I wasn't … hoping. But we're friends, Stiles … and if that's all we ever are, then I'll be glad enough of that. Besides, I need someone there to keep me from gagging Scott when he starts mooning over Allison and the twins."
"Right?" Stiles said rolling his eyes. He shifted into a falsetto voice, "'Stiles, it's just so beautiful … you're so lucky to be able to bring forth life …'"
Derek was laughing out loud. "You sound just like him!"
"Trust me … he'll see just how freaking beautiful it is when Allison is trying to push a human being out of her body. Yeah, I wasn't feelin' so lucky when the little hurricane upstairs decided to come forth," Stiles said, laughing. "I will so be there recording the event for future generations."
Derek wiped his eyes and waved good-bye. He drove home feeling flat …as though nothing else would come along to spur new life into him. Eating a bowl of soup, Derek went through his files one last time, laid out his suit for the next day and dropped into bed.
Stiles woke Jack from his nap and they made a game of clearing the last of the debris from his party away. He made a mental note to thank Isaac who'd rounded up the other 'dads' to help clear the yard. Isaac had accepted the Bite and was now a werewolf and was proving to be yet another good counselor for Derek.
Bath and pajamas were handled in short order and Jack was snuggled in bed when Stiles remembered Derek's gift. He brought it back up and Jack eagerly tore into the large box. Stiles smiled when Jack's face fell at the sight of a leather jacket. After all the toys of the day, clothes probably fell into the 'worst gift ever' category of any pup's mind. He pulled out the card and gave it to Jack to read while he took the jacket out.
Stiles' throat seemed to close up as his son's small voice sounded out the words explaining the gift.
"Happy Birthday, Jack … this is a smaller version of the jacket your dad, Jackson, used to wear. I hope you like it."
The small leather jacket was, indeed, a perfect replica of the Porsche Design jacket hanging in Stiles' closet sealed in a garment bag. It had the Porsche logo on the collar and the lining. Stiles blinked back tears as he recalled Jackson getting out of his beloved car wearing sunglasses and his jacket – gorgeous to a fault. He looked at Jack.
"Um … that ... remember the car in the garage? The race car?"
Jack nodded.
"Well," Stiles said. "You remember I told you that belonged to your other dad?" Another nod. "He used to wear a jacket just like this one … so when you wear it, you're gonna look just like him. And that car is going to be yours one of these days."
"Ok, Daddy," Jack said, the jacket forgotten. "Why crying?"
Small hands wiped at Stiles' cheeks and he grabbed them in one hand and kissed them. He pulled his son into a hug. "Oh, nothin', little man. Your dad just gets sad sometimes. You look so much like him, baby …"
Stiles' voice broke at the end. Jack did indeed look like Jackson excepting his unique eyes. He had the freckles scattered across his nose and the same browline. Scott insisted Jack had Stiles' nose and Stiles kissed it before settling Jack back in bed.
"Ok … I have to go with the alpha tomorrow so you are going to stay with your granddad," Stiles said, wiping his eyes. He grinned at Jack's true glee over the plans. "You can show him all your new swag. But right now, you need to get some sleep. Ok?"
Jack nodded. He looked up at moon shining in his bedroom window and snuggled down in his bed, secure in its comforting link to his life.
Stiles got ready for bed and then grabbed his phone.
S: Thanks, sourwolf.
D: Hope he likes it.
S: I love it.
D: Glad.
S: Gonna get me drunk on our date tomorrow and have your way with me?
D: ? Thought it wasn't a date?
S: It's an omega's prerogative to change their mind.
D: You're impossible.
S: It's why you love me.
D: One of the reasons.
S: Sweet dreams, sourwolf.
Derek put his phone on the nightstand and looked up at the moon. Thanks for the second chance, Jackson.