Even Derek couldn't resist getting into the fun. He laughed when Stefan said Stiles was a major geek, talking about what he'd seen in his twin's bedroom.

Stefan seemed interested in him too. Dare Derek mention that both he and Stiles were werewolves? How would Stefan digest that? Maybe not so bad considering what they'd learned earlier.

Stiles' mother had apparently sent Stefan to her brother Kevin to pass on her family's own supernatural legacy, witchcraft.

That explained everything about the Mountain Ash incident, as Derek recalled. Stiles had made a circle around the club and kept him out. Stiles was a witch from a family of witches.

Derek wondered if there had ever been werewolves who were also witches before.

Derek wanted to tell Stefan he and Stiles' secret, but he needed to find out if his mate would be ok with that.

They were in the Stilinski kitchen. The sheriff had broken out some pretzel sticks and chips, knowing young people liked nothing better than junk. Stiles and Stefan were absolutely inseparable. They stood so close they could bump one another, leaning against the counter, nibbling at pretzel sticks.

"I can't believe I actually have a twin," Stiles remarked. "Its still so much to drink in."

Stefan knew exactly what he meant. It was like finding it out all over again to actually meet Stiles. He found he loved him already. He was funny and sweet.

He wondered about Derek, his twin's very quiet boyfriend, who hadn't said hardly two sentences so far. He had to admit Derek was very attractive in a dark kind of way.

"So Derek," Stefan said suddenly. "Tell me about you. You are my brother's boyfriend."

"Yeah," Derek replied in a kind of funny voice. "Sorry. It takes me awhile to adjust to new people."

"Its alright," Stefan told him with a smile. "You seem like the strong, silent type anyway."

"You said a mouthful," Stiles remarked to that.

Derek shot his mate a smirk.

"Oh yeah huh?" he muttered. "Don't listen to him Stefan. He likes we strong, silent types."

"Yes I do," Stiles agreed, smiling at his mate.

Derek still felt like they should tell Stefan. Stiles did too, but he worried how his twin might react.

"Stiles can I talk to you a minute?" Derek's voice cut into his thoughts.

"I'll be back okay?" Stiles said to Stefan.

"Sure," his twin replied.

The sheriff watched Stiles and Derek leave the kitchen with a kind of half-glare, still not sure he liked this arrangement. Stiles and Derek stopped in the living room.

"We should tell your brother and uncle," Derek said. "I think they could probably handle it."

"Yeah I think you're right," Stiles nodded. "Well should I tell them? You can if you want."

They returned to the kitchen holding hands. Stefan could see how they were strangely good together. He often wished he could find someone to be with, male or female didn't matter.

"We need to say something," Stiles spoke.

His eyes swept around at everyone. Only his dad already knew what he was about to say.

"You've been honest with me," Stiles addressed Stefan, looking in his eyes. "I want to be honest with you. I'm a creature of the supernatural too, just not a witch."

Stefan smirked a little, thinking his twin was just trying to humor him, but Uncle Kevin's face became interested. Stefan still had much to learn. Couldn't he tell by looking at Derek Hale that something was off about him? Stiles too now that he thought about it.

"I get it Stiles," Stefan said with a laugh. "You're trying to humor me."

Stiles gaped at him, not sure what to say. He'd lost his train of thought now.

"No we're really not," Derek spoke for him, looking at Stefan. "Stiles and I... we're werewolves."

Stefan's expression became less humorous, but he still wasn't sure rather to believe this or not.

"Its true," Uncle Kevin said. "I can see it now. They're what they say... werewolves."

"Seriously?" Stefan asked, expression skeptical.

"Serious," Stiles told him.

Stefan was silent for several moments. Stiles was starting to look nervous. He didn't want his twin to think he didn't accept him.

"Its okay Stiles," he said. "Really. I don't care if you're a werewolf."

Stiles smiled, stepping forward to hug him again. Now there were no secrets between them.

ooOoo

"We're attacking tonight."

Carter looked around the hotel room at the rest of his colony. There was a brunette female with brown eyes, a slender hazel-eyed boy with buzzed brown hair, and a built blond who liked kind of like a surfer-wrestler combo with his long hair.

Carter himself was blond, hair cut fairly short. He had gray eyes, and was tall and slender, yet his arms were obviously filled out.

He addressed them again.

"This attack is to test the waters," he went on. "We're not aiming to kill. We werespiders are cunning. We always get a feel for our prey. That's the safest way to pounce."

He looked at the brunette female.

"Wendy, I need you to watch the house and its surroundings while we're inside. If you see Hale reinforcements coming, you give the signal."

"Right," she said, inclining her head.

"Dustin," he addressed the hazel-eyed slender boy. "You and Daniel will stay by my side as my protection."

Here he eyed Daniel, the buff blond. They both nodded.

"We're not going in to kill," he repeated. "If you need to defend yourselves use your web. We wouldn't want to accelerate our little game too quickly."

He smirked. He may as well have a little fun. Tonight the Hales were in for a nasty surprise. They would never see it coming.

Carter wondered if Adam Hale would be surprised to meet the son of the former werespider alpha he'd killed. Little did Carter realize that Adam Hale had been dead for over ten years.

ooOoo

Lydia collapsed against her bed, body coated in sweat, but she didn't care. Her running and weight-lifting hadn't gotten her mind off of her woes. She thought about Jackson and then Stiles.

Stiles...

She could almost cry again. She'd thought the running would clear her head. His lips had been on hers, but he hadn't wanted her, not like he wanted Derek. She hated being second at anything.

She could almost hate Derek right now. Bile rose in her throat. Stiles in his bed, arms around him. Lydia opened her bedside drawer and her grip closed around something, the hilt of a knife. She took it out.

Stiles, his brown eyes and smiling face. Jackson his god-like chiseled face. She placed the blade against her wrist and sliced, gasping as blood rose to the surface of the cut.

The cut numbed the emotional pain, but her thoughts were still on Stiles and Jackson. Her life sucked...