**since it's the epilogue, time has passed**

Stiles sat down on the couch, smiling. Scott sat next to him, leaving a little room between them to show respect to Sheriff Stilinski. Unsatisfied, the Sheriff plopped down on the couch between them, making them scoot out of the way to avoid getting hit by his falling posterior.

"Dad, we're engaged," Stiles said, waving the little silver band on his finger in his dad's face. It was a simple band, with three elegantly interlacing swirls on the top in a triskele. "I think we should be able to sit next to each other at least."

The Sheriff made a face at the boy. "As long as you're in my house-"

"I know, I know," Stiles said, patting his dad on the knee. Stiles figured that his dad's protective nature was probably because Scott was the reason that his son had left him. In a little while, he knew his dad would get over it. Besides, his dad still loved Scott, even if he didn't like him being in a room alone with Stiles. He didn't want his son to get too attached, he'd said, in case Scott hurt him again.

"Anyway," Mr. Stilinski said, "you're hardly old enough to get married. You're not really engaged."

Stiles hugged his ring finger to his chest, cradling the symbol of Scott's love. "Alright, we're engaged to be engaged," Scott said with a smile, teasing Stiles' father. Scott had explained the real meaning of the ring when he gave it to Stiles. It wasn't really an engagement ring, but more of a promise that he would never hurt Stiles like that again. He promised to always consider how his actions could effect Stiles. Don't think that means I'll be a push over, though, he'd joked. Stiles knew that there was some emotion behind the statement, though. He'd also hurt Scott by leaving. Worse yet, that was his intention. By accepting the ring, he'd promised not to hurt Scott either. It was really a promise of mutual respect.

The Sheriff looked confused as Scott got up and went to the door. Lydia was just walking up to the door, the others in tow behind her. "How did he know?" Mr. Stilinski asked his son.

"Wolf nose," Stiles whispered, smiling. The Sheriff made an unhappy face. It was difficult to explain to the man that his son was in love with a supernatural creature. They left out quite a few details, including how many of the town's recent crimes were connected to the supernatural denizens within the city. Now, he begrudgingly accepted the fact, but still seemed uncomfortable addressing it.

"Hey!" Lydia said, setting down a plate of homemade cookies on the coffee table in front of the couch before sitting on an ottoman.

"It's about time," Stiles said. "We've got, like, two minutes."

"Blame Lydia," Jackson said as he strolled confidently through the door. "She took, like, twenty minutes getting changed when she didn't like what she was wearing."

"Blame Danny, he said it made me look like Kirstie Alley," Lydia said with an angry look at the boy.

"A young Kirstie Alley. She was pretty!" Danny said, sitting next to Jackson on the arm of an easy chair.

"Would you both just stop it? We're here on time, get over it," Derek said, walking through the door. The Sheriff stood and they shook hands.

Scott followed Isaac into the living room, closing the front door behind him. Almost the entire pack was seated in the Stilinskis' living room, waiting eagerly. Peter wasn't able to make it, since they hadn't told the Sheriff about his return yet. They figured that werewolves were enough for a while, and that they would wait a while to break the whole returning to life thing to him.

"You know what's weird?" Lydia said to Scott as he sat down next to the Sheriff. "A few months ago, we would've never believed that this was happening. You know, that we were all sitting around together again."

"Especially since Stiles was only gone for, like, a week or so," Derek mumbled, not looking at anyone in particular.

"Still, it's felt different after he came back. Better," Isaac said, looking around the room. "It's like I don't want to leave when we're all in the same room together."

"I dunno, I've seen Scott and Stiles leave together plenty of times," Jackson said with a mischievous grin. Stiles turned a dark shade of red, and Scott stared darkly at Jackson. Mr. Stilinski helped himself to a cookie, acting as if he didn't notice the comment, though the reddening color on his cheeks suggested differently. Stiles couldn't help thinking about the first time that he and Scott had tried to sneak away from the group.

The whole pack had been hanging around in Scott's house while his mom was on the night shift. They were all watching a marathon of a show they liked, when Stiles and Scott surreptitiously tried to sneak off while everyone was talking. They slipped into the hallway, and Scott carried Stiles up the stairs, since his wolfy feet were more apt to miss the creaky floorboards. They made it upstairs, and into Scott's bedroom. He'd lain Stiles on the bed, and kissed him gently from head to toe. Stiles could barely remember how both of their clothes had come off, since he'd been busy kissing Scott. For a long time, they'd just lain on the bed, kissing each other.

Stiles had smiled and kissed Scott as he carried him back down the stairs. "I guess that was my first time," he'd whispered lightly into his neck. Scott had laughed a little under his breath. It wasn't until they both casually strolled back into the living room that they realized they hadn't gone unnoticed. Every eye in the room turned toward them.

A few nights later, Derek told Scott that all of the wolves in the room could hear everything. And smell everything. He'd laughed it off, but when he told Stiles, the boy had blushed. Jackson now recanted this, just to drive the point home. "I mean, we could've put up with hearing you two, but the smell was really too far," Jackson said, smirking like a jerk.

"Jackson!" Lydia and Derek chided together, Lydia's staccato, impetuous voice in contrast with Derek's deep, commanding one. Danny smacked his friend gently on the head. Mr. Stilinski and his son both turned deeper shades of red, and Scott seemed almost proud as he wistfully remembered the night.

"Guys! Shut up, it's starting!" Stiles yelled, completely forgetting his embarrassment. He walked over to the large radio, and turned the volume up high. Nobody had even noticed that it was on.

A radio announcer's voice welcomed the listeners back to their radio station, listing off several things that would be playing shortly. Everyone was silent in anticipation. They'd all heard the song several times, but Stiles made sure that none of them had heard the studio version yet. Of course, he'd given them all copies of his first CD, but he made each solemnly promise that they wouldn't listen to the track that was slated to be his first single.

Stiles anticipation dissolved. He realized from the looks on everyone's faces that none of them had actually listened to the song. They'd all kept their promises to him. He unconsciously rubbed the triskele on his finger. Whether the single flopped or he became a superstar, it didn't matter. What really mattered was this. His family. The people he could rely on, the people for whome he'd written these songs. In fact, there was one song on the album dedicated to each person in the room, which he'd written with them in mind. And one for his mother.

Suddenly, he didn't care if they didn't play his song. None of it mattered, as long as these people would stick with him through the journey. He listened to the radio again. "And now he have our first song by a newcomer, Stiles, off of his new album, Running with Wolves," the voice announced. "You're listening to his first single off the album, Scott."