A/N: Stiles' father may not take the revelation so swimmingly. Here's the next chapter!
Stiles saw his father walking around and checking things out from the corner of his eye. He was trying to read one of Deaton's books on warding but he found most of the information repetitious of what he already knew. He put the book down and his father walked over. The Sheriff was silent and his eyes scanned his surroundings every few seconds.
"Dad, you look a little freaked out."
"It looks like everyone is preparing for war. The Argents are sharpening arrows and knives. The town's most mysterious veterinarian is telling a bunch of high school students which veins to sever to do the most damage to the human body. And you're...reading books."
"Just going over information. Shaman stuff."
"Yeah. Deaton filled me in about that. You didn't get it from my side of the family."
"I had a feeling. Not that you're not magical in your own way."
The Sheriff sighed, ignoring his son's attempt at humor. It was evident to Stiles that the werewolves throughout the clinic were finding it difficult not to eavesdrop on their conversation. "This is surreal. It seems like I went to sleep and woke up a completely different person."
Stiles thought about it and then shook his head. "More like you woke up and you're completely awake for the first time. Dad, you have to promise me that you aren't going to put yourself in danger all the time."
"I'm the Sheriff, Stiles. It's my job."
"Catching bank robbers and setting up speed traps are in your job description. Chasing after snarling beasts that smell like wet dog, and the murderous humans that hunt them, isn't. No offense." His last words were meant for the werewolves in the room and not his father, though the Sheriff didn't seem to notice.
"I can't just know about this stuff and act like it doesn't exist. Argent said he'd help prepare me for some of the stuff I could run into."
"Just don't let his opinions poison your mind. Werewolves good, hunters bad."
"Isn't Allison one of them? What about her?"
"Well, It depends on who you ask. Some would say that she's reckless and ruthless. Others would say that she's compassionate and intelligent. I think she's calculating and a good person to have on your side as opposed to her being on an opposing team. Just promise me that you'll be careful and call in help if you need it."
"I'll do my best. So, uh, what is all this stuff?"
Stiles looked at the six clear quartz points, the jar of mountain ash, and other oddities covering the fold up table that he had set up. "Tools of the trade. I'm trying to figure out how to use them to ward the hunters."
"So it's like a defensive thing?"
"Kind of. The problem is that I need their blood to tie the spell to them. It won't be much good otherwise."
"I can get you blood," Allison said. She held up one of her daggers and she smiled. Whether or not she had heard them talking about her was unknown to Stiles and there was a part of him that was okay with not knowing.
"It may not be necessary," he said, "I could always just tweak it a little and kill everyone non-werewolf in the area."
"You'd do that?"
"They're trying to kill us, dad. It's self defense."
"I guess I just thought I taught you better. They're wrong, sure, but they deserve to be punished for their crimes. Killing them solves nothing."
"Actually it does. Dead hunters eliminates the threat to us," Derek proclaimed.
"You can't just lock them up and throw away the key. It won't work for people like us. There's a way out of every cell and we're the first to look for opportunities to change the odds of a situation to our favor," Chris warned, solid in his opinion.
"What's the alternative? Continue fighting in a war that leads to more bloodshed? It just perpetuates the violence."
"Maybe. I won't stand here and tell you that I'm completely opposed to what they do, or even that there isn't a need for hunters. I've killed werewolves all over the soil of this country. But now I see that there's a different way."
"We can all hold hands and sing songs," Erica said, smirking at Isaac. He responded with an equally wicked smirk. It reminded Stiles of how they were after Derek first gave them the bite. Cold and animalistic, for starters.
"It's us or them, dad. They held Derek and I hostage, remember? They shot at us in the jeep and then they tortured Derek repeatedly. We haven't tortured anyone last I checked. Well, except for Peter, but he's just like that."
"And proud of it."
"Will someone please kill him already?" Lydia, of course.
Peter met her eyes from across the room. "Would you give me a pass if I told you that the devil made me do it?"
"Allison, I need to borrow your crossbow for a minute." Allison walked to Lydia and led her to one of the back rooms to calm her down.
"I understand your positions in this situation. I just think that it's possible for two enemies to find common ground. Look at everyone in this room. It's proof of my point."
"We work together when there's a need for it," Scott said.
"Yet you manage to coexist. You are all the example of how people should be living their lives." It took about ten seconds for everyone in the room, minus Boyd and the Sheriff, to start laughing. Boyd at least had a moderate smile on his face which Stiles took as a good sign.
"Because everyone should threaten people like Derek," Isaac said.
"And adults everywhere should roll their eyes like Lydia."
"You're all a bunch of crazy people," his father said, "How have you all managed to stay alive?"
"Stiles," Scott said, after thinking it over.
"Great. Now Stiles is going to demand that we do things his way from now on. Who needs an Alpha when you have a Stiles?," Derek quipped.
"It's my way or the preserve," Stiles boasted. "Now let's go get some bad guys."
"I can't talk you out of this?"
"Human laws don't apply to the supernatural. This is the way it has to be."
"Then I'm involved too, even if it's only to make sure I don't lose my son in this conflict."
"So what's the plan?," Lydia asked. She walked back into the room with Allison right behind her.
"We split into three teams. We can't take this fight to the preserve or anywhere that they're going to have the upper hand. One team will play the cheese for our mice and the other two will be the cats."
"I think I know a place," Isaac said, with a gleam in his eye.