Stiles knew he wasn't the most levelheaded person to ever walk the earth. He was loud. He was impulsive. More often than not, he was just on the wrong side of hyper. Looking back, the events that transpired after Lydia and Jackson landed in the hospital could've been handled a bit better.
When he arrived, he was a full hour before he could see either of them. He waited anxiously in the lobby, foot tapping a rapid rhythm on the ground. The others were there. Despite the fact that Lydia and Jackson were by no means pack. But they were there all the same. Derek stood sentinel at the door, silent and unmoving. There wasn't much else he could do. This Deucalion person had ordered the attack and that was gist of it. The alpha of alphas couldn't get to Stiles. So he went after people that were completely unprotected and unaware. Hence their current situation.
The others took turn patrolling the surrounding area, looking for any trace of the alphas. Stiles could only barely restrain himself from joining them. It was an ongoing effort. He was livid. Anger wasn't a strong enough word. Every inch of his body screamed horrible, maddening things at him. Telling him to strike back. To educate this Deucalion person on what it means to fuck with his friends. But he knew, even with all that he had learned, he wasn't really a match for the alpha. Not yet anyway.
It was a solid two hours before Melissa came out, telling Stiles he could go and see Lydia. He didn't bother saying anything. The young man bolted towards the young woman's room, desperate to see that she was alive. What he found wasn't very reassuring.
Every visible inch of Lydia's skin was torn, slashed, or bruised. There were multiple bite marks along her torso. Thick cotton bandages covered the worst of them. Some were still bleeding. The fabric stained red. One of her eyes was black, as if she had been struck. And in that moment, Stiles felt a new wave of rage wash over him.
His breathing became erratic and panicked with the sheer force of his. He could feel his heartbeat increase to dangerous levels. Time crawled to a virtual standstill. The world bending and warping out of shape. By the time he felt the pair of hands wrap around him, he was already on the floor. Derek had come out of nowhere. He must've heard his heartbeat. Stupid werewolf hearing.
They stayed like that for a minute. Not saying anything. Stiles willed himself to calm down. To let the anger subside. To let the irrational, violent thoughts subside. Eventually, with a little coaxing from Derek, he managed to get back up. There wasn't anything he could do here. Not with Lydia still passed out. Hopefully, she would remain so. At least until the worst of the pain passed.
He made his way to Jackson's room. Derek in two. The young man was in considerably better shape than Lydia. There were far fewer scratches and tears on his skin. But there was rather prominent bite mark on his left bicep. He had been bitten. That left one of two choices. He was either going to turn. Or he was going to die. There was no in between. More so, Jackson was no aware of the reality of werewolves. Which meant there was lot of explaining to do.
Derek took it with as much grace as he could muster. Given the circumstances. The alpha carefully explained what had happened. Who the people were that attacked Jackson. And what was going to happen to him once the bite either took or failed. To his credit, Jackson didn't speak once during the explanation. For the first time in his life, the big mouthed jackass didn't have anything to say. Stiles was rather impressed with the effort it must've taken him.
When Derek was done explaining, Jackson of course had many questions. Namely, why he and Lydia were targeted. How long werewolves had been in Beacon Hills. And the consequences if he refused to join Derek or Laura's pack. It was a process but one that the three of them handled well. Jackson decided that, if he lived, he'd give being pack a shot. As Derek explained, lone wolves didn't last long. One way or the other, Jackson would meet a cruel and painful death.
Once their conversation was concluded, the next one popped from nowhere.
The sheriff was there, taking statements from the nurses and doctors who had attended to Lydia and Jackson. He was in the middle of writing everything down when he spotted Stiles. The man walked over, stiffly. He wasn't too happy. Stiles knew his father had been suspecting him of lying as of late. Now, all of those lies were coming to a head. Hopefully, he could explain things before he was arrested. Derek, thankfully, took the helm.
The found a private room where they could talk without anyone hearing. At the word werewolf, the good sheriff scoffed and snorted derisively. Then, he watched as Derek's face shifted into something not human. That of course, is when things got interesting.
By some miracle that remained unknown, there was no drawing of a gun. Nor threat of bodily harm. The sheriff, if anything, was baffled and stunned into silence. It took a few minutes, but the man recovered enough to give a response. Much to Stiles' relief. He was almost worried that the heart he worked so hard to keep beating was going to give out.
His questions were the same as Jackson's. For the most part. Namely, what Derek's relationship to Stiles was. The alpha stuttered for a moment before explaining the intimacies of what pack was. How Stiles wasn't a werewolf, but how he was pack all the same. How he was the human element of their social group. And of Laura's. That of course led to the question of Isaac and his situation. Derek calmly explained that Derek had offered Isaac the opportunity to turn. And that he had accepted. As well as the others.
The sheriff had a hard time with that one. Turning teenagers into werewolves wasn't exactly his idea of being a good parental figure. It took further explaining on Derek's part, but he managed to convince the man that he had given the bite with permission. That of course, led him to asking about Stiles. The young man explained to his father that Derek had offered and that he had refused. That explanation seemed to appease the sheriff in regards to his son.
With the truth now out in the open, the sheriff was no focused on the people that attacked Lydia and Jackson. Derek gave the man descriptions of each member of the alpha pack. Including their names. He made a note to give the descriptions to a sketch artist that wouldn't ask any questions. There was then of course, the matter of finding and arresting them. Werewolves tended not to go down easily. And regular bullets would have little if no effect. It would slow them down. But they would recover quickly. Thankfully, Chris and Allison were still on retainer.
Derek gave the sheriff the respective numbers. Making sure that Stiles' involvement in weapons training was casually overlooked. The young man appreciated it. He had enough to worry about. When the sheriff left, Stiles made his way back to the lobby to fetch some coffee. It was burnt and bitter as hell. But the burn of it was good. Plus, with the adrenaline crash, he needed the caffeine. Derek took a cup as well. Which surprised Stiles. The man was a notorious food snob.
They sat and sipped in idle silence. Not having anything to say to the other. At this point, words were useless. But Stiles did think. He thought of one Derek Hale. Their relationship was a strange one.
Their first meeting was met with anger, fear, and a general sense of mistrust. And as Derek began turning his friends, things didn't improve. Stiles felt isolated and cut off. Alone in the world. When the truth of things was revealed, he the way he viewed Derek changed. And not in a good way.
The fact that he had gotten away with punching an alpha werewolf was something he should've been thankful for. He managed to walk off without a scratch. After that, things did get better. In their own way. He saw his friends and how they had all blossomed in the pack. How the layers of shyness, insecurity, and fear seemed to vaporize. And it was all because of Derek. The older man was gruff, brooding, and a little bit of an asshole. But Stiles knew there was more to him than that.
Underneath the tense silence and ragged edges, there was a softness to Derek Hale. A warm, cloudy inside that showed itself on the rarest occasions. It came out when Tristan was crying from his teeth growing in. And Derek's first reaction was to pick the little werewolf up to comfort him. It came out when the betas had questions, no matter how stupid. And how Derek answered each and every one of them. It showed itself when Derek let himself fall asleep, daring to be in a state of venerability. When, after so many years of pain and loss, Derek was indeed broken. But he was not cruel.
And that was the truth of it. There were many different ways, many different people Derek could've become. He could've been cold and withdrawn. Hollow and bereft. Or he could've been mericiless and without consequence. But instead, he was gentle and kind. With ease and trepidation in the same moment, he was kind. Against all the odds, Derek Hale was kind. And Stiles loved that about him. He loved Derek Hale.
It came in that slow, unintentional way. Falling in love wasn't something that followed a set of rules or any ordained path. It was organic and free moving. And that's what had happened with Stiles. Without even realizing it, he had fallen in love. Really fallen in love. It was nothing like what he had felt for Lydia. Where it some overbearing and obsessive crush. This was something else entirely. And Stiles didn't know what to do. He knew that Derek didn't feel the same way. So, he was going to keep quiet about it. At least, where his feelings were concerned. However, regarding the matter of his friends, he refused to remain silent.
He discarded his now empty cup. Telling Derek that he was going home. The alpha offered to escort him. But Stiles told him it was fine. They needed someone here to watch Jackson and Lydia. And the others had to work on finding the alphas. Stiles assured the older man that he would be fine. That he would text him when he got home. Only, he wasn't going home. Not yet. He had very different destination in mind.
The ride to Deaton's was short one. Stiles kept to the speed limit. But there no traffic, so her arrived in record time. The office was closed, but he had long since made himself a key. Entering was no issue. The vet/emissary seemed unsurprised by his entrance. They had been practicing more and more lately. And it wasn't uncommon for Stiles to just drop by unannounced. But he wasn't here to learn. He already had in mind what he wanted to do. But first, there were some questions that needed answering.
" , how can I help you?"
"Did you know about the alpha pack?" The question was blunt and to the point. Stiles wasn't in the mood to mince words or beat around the bush. Deaton was going to answer him. And he was going to do it now.
"Yes. And I informed Derek and Laura as such."
"Did you know what they wanted?"
"The same as Deucalion always has. More power. A new alpha to add to the ranks. Derek is the prime canadite." Deaton said.
"How so?"
"He's been an alpha for less than a year. Had his betas less than six months. In Deucalion's mind, it would be easier to kill them and become a member. As such."
"Derek would never do that to us." Stiles said firmly.
"Your unwavering faith is to be admired. But even the strongest of men can be tested beyond their reach. and were only the beginning. Deucalion doesn't back down and he doesn't surrender. He will find a way to reach his goals. Or die in the process."
Stiles shared the sentiment. Deucalion, being unable to target him, had went after those who couldn't defend themselves. So, now he was going to teach the man a lesson. A painful one at that. Deaton had everything he needed and then some. There were many plants and herbs that could do harm to a werewolf. Wolfsbane was just one of them. But he wasn't intending to kill anyone. Not today. Just cause them an equal amount of pain. As had been inflicted on Lydia and Jackson.
He gathered what he needed and started mixing. It was a quick process. One that he prided himself on. When it was all said and done, he made his way out of the door, knowing what came next. Deaton, of course, had to try and stop him. Stiles gave the man a pointed glare.
" , I understand your anger. But retaliating will do no good. Deucalion won't take it lying down. And where he's concerned, you will be the one to pay. One way or the other."
Stiles nodded in understanding. But was undeterred. Deucalion had hurt his friends. As strange as it was to call Jackson a friend. More so, if he was willing to go after them, there was nothing to stop him from going after Danny. Or anyone else. Stiles wanted to send a message. One that would resonate loud and clear.
Back in the Jeep, he sent out a group text saying that he was home. All of the pack answered. Saying that they would be over sometime later. Stiles could only hope that Deaton would keep his mouth shut. The man was either entirely useless or impossibly helpful. The moment Derek knew that he was up to, he would track down Stiles and stop him. Stiles made it a point to find out what he needed to know before that happened.
He had installed a police scanner in the Jeep years ago. It wasn't exactly a legal fitting. But he wanted to keep an ear out for his dad on those long nights. Now, it would be his source for information. Derek had given a description of the twins' bikes to the sheriff. There was an APBP out for them. The moment he heard anything, he would be off like a rocket. Thankfully, he didn't have to wait long.
There were two call-ins for bikes matching the description. One in a residential district, in the nicer part of town. The other, in the old factory section. Stiles knew the one in the residential side was Ethan visiting Danny. The other was no doubt Aiden. Stiles knew who he was going for.
The industrial district shut down years before he was born. It stood rusted and ruined. Mainly, it was used by the homeless and bereft. People to strung out on whatever drugs they were using. It made perfect sense to use it. The place was isolated and generally had very little police presence. Plus, the decades of chemicals and refuse would hide their scents. Making them difficult to track. Stiles had to hand it to Deucalion. The man knew how to hide.
This time, Stiles did speed. The police were too busy looking for the members of the alpha pack. They weren't going to bother him. When he arrived, there were two people outside. One of them was Aiden. The other was a raven haired female with no shoes. They appeared to be arguing about something. Somewhat loudly. Stiles didn't care. He threw the Jeep into park, marching towards the two of them. They stopped bickering long enough to notice. Aiden made his way over, eyes shifted. Fangs started to come out. It was an obvious threat. Stiles responded with one of his own.
The young alpha hadn't learned his lesson from last time. Stiles was still full of anger and very much unpredictable. When he launched the powder towards the other man, he didn't see it coming. It wasn't mountain ash or Wolfsbane. In fact, Stiles had made a point to avoid using them. It was something far worse. The effect was instant and rather satisfying.
Aiden collapsed to the ground, screaming in pain. He rolled around, scratching at his eyes. Begging for relief. Stiles was so busy enjoying it, he didn't notice the raven haired female launch for him. She grabbed him by the throat, holding him off the ground. Her eyes were blaring red in anger. Stiles was more than happy to give her a smile.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Stiles." He managed to wheeze out.
"Seeing as you're about to die, I don't care."
"You might want to. What I threw in his face isn't just gonna go away. It'll take a while. But it will kill him. Well, his mind at least." The raven haired female dropped him down rather unceremoniously. Stiles sputtered for air, happy to be free of her hold.
"Explain." she demanded.
"It's a lovely mix of henbane and Deadly Nightshade. Along with some other not so nice things. It's essentially a toxic psychoactive substance that makes a person experience their worst fears. As it takes hold, it becomes harder to remove. It attacks the brain just as fast as it can push it out. Sends the entire body into complete sensory panic."
"Well isn't that something?"
The voice belonged to a man who had appeared silently. He was Stiles' height, with a chiseled jaw and sunglasses. He walked with a cane, and seemed to hesitate when he moved. The man was blind. And he was also the one who was responsible for the attack of Lydia and Jackson. This was Deucalion. In the flesh. Shame Stiles only had one more dose of the powder. Killing an alpha bare handed wasn't something he had the skill to do. Not yet anyway.
"You must be Stiles." the man said.
"Must I?"
"Ha! Ethan told me about your little tendency of having a smart mouth. I must say, for a human, you're rather impressive. First, you managed to escape the two of them, and now, Aiden's on the verge of psychosis. You are something."
"Good to know that I've impressed you. Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, stay the hell away from my pack and my friends."
"And if I refuse?" Deucalion asked coyly. The man was smiling. Smiling as one of his alphas lay on the ground, writhing in pain. It was a cold, dead thing. It sent a shiver down Stiles' spine. But he wasn't about to back down.
"Hurt them and you will regret it. This…This is child's play. There are agonies I can inflict that make this seem like a sugar coated dream. So this is your only warning, back the fuck off."
Stiles could feel the color drain from his face. Feel his heart start to race. This was a standoff he couldn't win if it came to blows. But Deucalion didn't seem mad. In fact, he was still smiling.
"You know, I can smell your fear. I can hear your heart. But you know what else, I can tell that you meant every word you said. And that's what impresses me the most. Your sheer and unwavering loyalty. You'd make an excellent wolf."
"No thanks. I'll be leaving now. Wash out his eyes and give him a large dose of lavender. It'll counter effect the toxin. Or, at least it should."
"Excellent. Kali, take Aiden inside. We have much to discuss." The raven haired female, Kali, did as she was instructed. Deucalion followed behind her. Before disappearing into the abandoned factory, he gave Stiles one final smirk. He felt that same icy feeling in his spine as he made his way back to the Jeep. He drove away, swallowing down the panic building in his chest. He got out alive. This time. The same might not be said when Derek found out. Oh, well. There were worst ways to die.