Chapter 21 – Pack

Stiles never stood a chance.

~.x.~

Derek paced. He had deleted the texts on his phone and received nothing new after that. Stilinski sat beside Stiles' body, holding his hand and staring at him like if he just infused his eyes with enough love, he could return Stiles to life. Derek scowled and turned to walk the other direction. John watched them both with a smug little smirk on his weathered face. He still stank of death, and Derek wished he could rip the man's throat out. He reached the wall and turned again to pace toward Stiles and his father.

Stiles' shoulders hunched forward, and he let out a long sigh. Stilinski's heartbeat stuttered. The hand around Stiles' gripped tight enough to turn his knuckles white, and his other hand shot up to Stiles' shoulder. Derek froze. He wanted to move, to rush to Stiles' side and hold him as his father was, but he couldn't bring himself to. Thera was stronger than Stiles, even the remnant of her fighting through to Stiles' body had beaten him back effortlessly. Certainty that Thera would wake in Stiles' place cemented Derek in place.

Stlinski leaned forward to better see Stiles' face, but when Stiles' eyes opened, they were blue. Like Thera's. Stilinski flinched, and Stiles—Thera—smirked widely at Derek. "Hey sexy," she said coyly with Stiles' voice. "Miss me?" She ignored Stilinski, who sat stunned, still gripping his son's hand.

"What did you do with Stiles?" Derek's feet came unstuck, but snarling was still all he could do without hurting Stiles. He remembered how broken Stiles had looked, collapsed in a heap outside his own body.

"He's here," She used Stiles' arm to tap Stiles' chest. "It was only a matter of time before he gave in."

"Well, this is awkward," John said. "Here I was enlisting their help by offering to save the boy."

Thera stood, leaving Stilinski behind on the couch. The grin she held on Stiles' face widened. "Johnny Dead Boy! What are you doing here?" She bounded across the room to wrap him in a hug. "Boy, you got old. Repeatedly."

"Looking to be young again soon." He stared into the blue eyes that had replaced Stiles'. "Is that you, Thera?"

"Of course. What do you think of my new look?" She spun and giggled, but Stiles' father caught her by Stiles' wrist.

"Let him go," he commanded, and his voice had gone dark.

"Oh, shut it." She waved Stiles' hand, and Stilinski fell back.

Stiles' eyes faded from blue to grey to brown. He scowled, and his fingers arched at his sides.

His eyes flashed from brown to grey to blue. Thera grinned with his mouth, but it was pained. "Naughty boy," she whispered. Only Derek's hearing was sensitive enough to catch it. She spun back to John and hugged him again. "So what's your next boy look like?"

He eyed Stiles. "Better than yours."

"Not likely." She ran hands along Stiles' torso. "Mine is amazing." She licked her lips. "A bit male though. I'm going to miss being a woman." One of Stiles' hands landed at his crotch. "I'll have a little fun still." She gripped Stiles through his pants and smiled.

Derek grabbed Stiles' wrist and pulled it away. "Don't you dare touch him," he growled, baring his fangs.

"Oh, please, like you'd hurt me in this body, Derek." Thera smirked. She tapped Stiles' lip thoughtfully. "If you're good, maybe I'll let you play with Stiles sometimes. I bet you'd like that." She eyed Derek. "Maybe you'd like a taste."

Stiles eyed faded to grey and brightened to his usual honey brown, but the smile fell from his face. He looked tried. "Don't, Derek." He took Derek's hand. "Don't let her. Please, kill m—"

"That's enough Stiles for now, I think." Thera took over again.

Too late, but it didn't matter. Derek couldn't kill Stiles.

~.x.~

It felt like hours before Jackson found Isaac and Cassie's scents. When no one could see him, he even tried howling, but no one responded. He nearly gave up and called for someone to give him a ride. Then he found it, faintly. When Jackson reached the scent trail itself, he realized it wasn't just Isaac and Cassie. They were being followed. Or chased.

The rumbling growl in Jackson's throat caught him by surprise. It might have frightened a guy passing by too. Jackson grinned at that and nodded his head to the man, who shuffled away with his eyes on the sidewalk. The man passed from Jackson's mind as he turned to follow the scent trail. He ran at top two-legged speed but didn't dare drop to all fours in the middle of the street.

The trail led away from more populated areas. The farther it got, the more scents joined it. When he was sure no one would see, Jackson wolfed out and went down on all fours to lope after the scent. It felt like a hunt. Not that he'd ever been on an actual hunt, but he imagined it would feel this way if he had.

They were unicorns. Of course. Jackson found them between two warehouses, circling Isaac and Cassie, both of whom had shifted to their beta forms. They looked ready to fight to the death. Jackson scented the air, but he was upwind. There could be a herd of prancing magical ponies hiding in that warehouse, and Jackson would never know. He scaled the warehouse nearest him and took a running leap over the gap to place himself downwind. Midway through his jump, the warehouse Jackson meant to land on disappeared.

"Aw shit..."

He was surrounded by dirt. There was no transition. One moment there were buildings and asphalt, and now there were rocks and dirt. And unicorns. They knelt in a circle, with Isaac, Cassie, and the unicorns Jackson saw before at their center. Jackson was the only other person inside the circle, but no one seemed to have noticed him yet.

The circle's edge looked like open air but felt like a solid wall when Jackson smacked into it face-first. The scene changed back as he fell. Jackson found a handhold against a window ledge on the building that re-materialized in front of him. Below him, One of the unicorns had Isaac in a stranglehold, while Cassie bashed another's face against the wall. Unfortunately, there were more than two unicorns down there. Jackson set his feet against the wall and counted six unicorns in the alley. He hadn't gotten a count of the unicorns making the circle, but they didn't seem to have come back through.

The building became air again, and Jackson got a chance to count six surrounding unicorns to match the six inside the circle. Jackson kicked off the invisible wall at the circle's edge to shoot himself at the unicorn holding Isaac. He wound up kicking both of them but figured Isaac could get over it since the other option was watching while Isaac blacked out and probably died. The three of them all went down. Isaac and Jackson rolled when they hit the ground and came up, crouched and ready to fight. The unicorn landed heavily with a grunt and outrush of air.

Someone in the outside circle shouted, but Jackson suspected they had to keep their places to maintain the barrier and transport non-unicorns between dimensions. He wondered if they had planned for only two shifters when they sent out twelve unicorns.

The fallen unicorn pushed himself onto his elbows, but Jackson ignored him in favor of active threats. Cassie had knocked her first opponent out and seemed to have no trouble with the second. There were still three unicorns on their feet, ready to take out Jackson and Isaac, and six surrounding them.

Jackson glanced at Isaac to find him already watching him with a smirk. Jackson returned it and nodded to rightmost unicorn. Isaac nodded to the one on the left. They broke off, leaving the center unicorn to decide which of her allies needed backup the most.

Maybe they had meant to send twelve after two, because Jackson and Isaac took out their targets almost effortlessly. Jackson turned grinning toward the last unicorn to find Cassie already there with a claw to her throat, clearly facing the outside ring of unicorns.

"Send us back," she demanded, baring her fangs. Her eyes glowed violet.

"You will surrender," one of the unicorns ordered.

"We will not." Jackson scoffed.

"Your pack will answer for their crimes against us," another unicorn said.

"You do realize you're kidnappers, right?" Isaac asked.

"But not murderers," said the first unicorn. "Your friend killed two of ours."

"Stiles is dead now. Or dying. It's hard to tell with how empty he is..." Isaac's features softened as he ran a hand over his eyes. "Thera was controlling him. She... sneaked in somehow. We didn't know." His eyes turned glassy, and Jackson realized it was an act to drive the unicorns away. Jackson made himself look suitably sad and noticed Cassie had already summoned a tear to slide down her cheek.

"...And Pentanthera?"

"In there with him. We think they're fighting. We just hope... We'll deal with whoever wins." Isaac's eyes hardened at the end.

"You all are not powerful enough to take on—"

"That's funny," Jackson cut in. "Because you thought Scott was strong enough all by himself. But somehow his entire united pack is weaker?"

"Scott is ours."

"No," Cassie said, and she smiled now. "We removed the horn."

"That's not..."

"Possible?" She offered. "We're a very special group."

The unicorn gaped at her. "You're lying."

She pulled her claw from the throat of the unicorn she held captive and grasped her horn instead. "You can tell if I'm lying if I do this, right?"

"Yes."

"We removed Scott's horn, and he survived." She kept her voice slow and measured, then pulled her hand away with a smirk. "Now, if you don't mind, we have better things to do." She twirled a finger to indicate the circle of unicorns holding them in the wrong dimension.

"She's telling the truth," The unicorn said. "Scott is theirs."

The circled unicorns shifted, glancing at each other as if each feared to make the wrong decision. One of them stood and shook his head. "I hope you're as able as you claim. If you take care of Pentanthera, we'll move on and leave you be." The others stood and were replaced by buildings and open air like a sudden cut in a film.

~.x.~

Thera smirked with Stiles' mouth, sitting on the couch with one of his legs crossed over the other and one arm thrown across the back. Derek fought the urge to smash things until the house fell down around them and sat as still as possible in an armchair instead. John sat on the other end of the couch with his arm on the armrest. Stilinski stood with his hand on Derek's shoulder, but he gripped so tightly Derek thought he might have welcomed destruction too.

"Calm down, boys. You know you won't hurt me in this body." Thera ran a finger down Stiles' cheek. "You might as well get used to me."

"Really?" John asked, and his surprise sounded genuine to Derek's ears. "You intend to stay?"

"For a while." Her smile was mysterious, but Derek thought it might have been an act. There was no reason for Thera to stay in Beacon Hills.

Unless she couldn't leave.

"Where is my son? Or should I say our son since I'm both of his parents now?" She giggled.

Derek scowled at her, willing her to take her hand off Stiles' inner thigh. Stilinski's hand trembled on Derek's shoulder.

"I asked a question." Her rage was cold. It shouldn't have fit so well on Stiles' face.

"Would your son be the lovely dark boy with the pack?" John asked. "Because I'm afraid he's out searching for something I've lost."

"And what would that be?"

"I'd rather not say."

Stiles' eyebrows pulled down over Thera's eyes. "I never said you had a choice."

John swallowed nervously and wiped his palms on his pants. Derek smelled his sweat over the stink of death on him. "My next body."

"You let it run away?" Thera raised Stiles' eyebrows in judgment.

"A wolf pack slaughtered those I kept near me. Sending him on the run was the only way. I just didn't expect his sister to keep him from me as well." John shook his head. "I'd be proud if I wasn't angry."

A brother and sister on the run. Their family killed by wolves. They knew about Thera and wanted something from her. Derek kept his tongue still, but he knew John's surname was Mortimer now. He texted it to Isaac, then deleted the text. Thera watched him handle the phone but kept her own silence. When Isaac didn't text back, Derek messaged Lydia.

We know. They're dead. Thera killed them, Lydia texted back. Daemyn buried them by his cave. We're there now. Derek deleted that conversation. He was getting better at that.

Thera killed them. Maybe Derek could turn John against Thera.

"You should have mentioned," Derek said, playing casual easily now that he knew what to do. "That you were looking for Mina and Chase. It would have sped things up." He crossed his ankle over the opposite knee and smiled too widely. Thera gave him a warning look.

"I expected them to keep clear of wolves," John said. "How do you know them?"

Derek chuckled even though Stiles' father looked at him like he'd gone insane. "They got themselves into a little trouble trying to make a werespider. Thera can tell you all about it; she helped us out with that one." He motioned to Thera. John's gaze darted between them. He knew Derek was being too amicable now. He had to. Unless he was an idiot, but Derek didn't think Thera liked to associate with idiots.

"I'd rather know where they went after the problem was taken care of." He didn't see it yet. His animosity was still aimed at Derek.

"They ran during Thera's spell to fix the problem. Too much chance of the spider attacking them for some sort of revenge." Derek shook his head like that was a shame. He almost wished Cassie had slaughtered them, except that she had enough to deal with already. "They turned up again to kidnap Stiles as a lure for your fae friend, and the last any of us saw of them was when Stiles and Daemyn ran from the cave."

"I don't quite catch what you're sending out here, son." He did though. Derek could feel it in the thrum of John's heartbeat.

"Nothing. Just Thera's got to finish the story from here since she saw them last. Before they died, I mean. Daemyn found what was left of them in the cave after that." Derek shrugged.

John sighed an old man's sigh. "Not much different from last time then, eh, Thera?" He slipped a hand into his coat pocket.

"You're the one who didn't keep spares." She shrugged.

"Tell me, dear, what's it like to be dead?" The toothy grin he flashed made him look nearly skeletal as his thin skin stretched over bone. "I've always wondered. Strangely, the dead can never tell."

"I left behind the part of me that died, so I'm afraid I can't tell you either." She smiled sweetly with Stiles' lips, and Derek wondered if John meant to try anything after all about the time he realized John might try something that could hurt Stiles instead of just Thera.

"Such a shame."

John's hand leapt from his pocket as he lurched toward Stiles. He was holding a pair of scissors with stunted, jagged blades. Thera didn't have time to respond as the blades neared Stiles' neck. Derek crossed the room in the blink of an eye, but it was done by the time he grabbed John's hand.

A tiny spot of blood welled on the side of Stiles' neck, and Thera pouted over it as she glared at John. His scissors hadn't aimed for flesh. They had cut the black chain holding the garnet around Stiles' neck. It fell to the floor with a thud. The stone looked dim and lifeless lying between Stiles' feet even though Derek couldn't imagine why a stone would look lively. Thera looked angry and frightened. That was enough for Derek, but it hurt to see the strain on Stiles' face. Derek couldn't imagine how Stilinski must feel. He stepped back and turned to find Stilinski's expression harder than he had expected.

Thera lurched toward John and dug Stiles' fingers into the old man's throat. He drove the scissors into Stiles' arm. Thera let go, howling in pain. She tore out the scissors and held a hand over the wound as John backed away into a shadow and disappeared. Thera scowled at the scissors he had left behind.

"Why didn't you stop him?" Thera turned on Derek. "He'll be back now, and he'll try to kill your precious Stiles."

"He'll be trying to kill you." Derek crossed his arms and hoped Stilinski knew better than to listen to Thera.

"But he'll take us both in the end. Killing the host is the easiest way."

"Nice to know."

"You can't fool me, Derek." Thera grinned. "You won't let anything hurt the one you love."

Derek felt the pang of loss then. "We never had time to fall in love. You robbed us of that." He had wanted to love Stiles as much as he had feared to. He and Stiles could have been amazing or terrible, but now they would never know.

"Aw, I think you hurt Stiles' feelings." Thera smirked.

"You hurt them worse."

"It's not a competition." Derek had expected something more creative from Thera.

"Well not anymore. You took the prize by a mile and may have broken a record or two in the process."

When the blue of Thera's eyes faded, it surprised Derek. He supposed that was creative.

"I don't know what you're trying to do, Derek," Stiles said, and his voice sounded tired even though it hadn't been long since Thera took over. "But you should go. Keep the pack as far from me as possible and let John take care of us." He turned away from Derek. "Sorry, Dad."

"Nothing to be sorry for, Son." But his voice was strained and uneven. "I love you."

"Love you too."

Stiles turned back to Derek, walked straight up to him, and shoved him. Derek refused to be budged. "Go," Stiles commanded. "I don't want you here." The truth of that stung.

"No." Derek couldn't leave him like this.

"You said yourself we aren't in love. You don't owe me anything." Stiles shoved him again, but Derek stayed firm.

"You're pack."

"I told you before that I'm not."

"You were wrong." It was more complicated than that, but in the end, Stiles was pack.

"That doesn't mean you can save me."

"I can try." Derek tried to keep his voice and expression hard, but by the way Stiles' eyes softened, he thought he had failed.

Then Stiles' eyes turned to blue.

"Wow, you two are..." Thera waved a hand to say there were no words. A smirk spread across Stiles' lips, and she lifted his arms to Derek's shoulders. "I assume you'll want to guard us closely." She pressed in against Derek. "Very closely."

Derek stepped back and broke her hold on him. "Don't bother, Thera. I know I'm not your type."

"I'm impressed that you'd notice, but it doesn't matter. You're his type. And he's yours."

Derek remembered pieces of what his mother told him about faeries. They ruined people just because they could, because they thought it was fun. Give them an inch, and they've got you in full. They would tell the truth only because it hid their lies, and they would play honest only because it hid their cheating. The pack knew Thera's lies by now, and she'd already cheated her way into Stiles' body. No matter how much he tried to hide it, Thera had Derek by more than an inch, and by her smirk she knew it. Derek pushed back his memories of the fae because all they told him was that he had already lost.

~.x.~

Lydia felt her lip trembling and willed it to stop. When it didn't, she bit into it so hard she tasted blood. Daemyn's eyes had gone wide when he realized Lydia wasn't ready for this, but Peter had only chuckled deep in his throat and said he liked her gloves. Lydia breathed, and air passed her teeth and the blood on her lip.

"Dae and I will start on moving the dirt," Peter said. He sounded more mocking than sympathetic, but Lydia nodded. She tried to look at the trees but found her gaze drawn to Peter again and again the same way it was drawn to the red mess and twisted limbs of road kill. Peter's face made her think less of dead animals than going insane. "I don't suppose you have a shovel?" Peter tilted his head toward Daemyn as he spoke.

Daemyn shook his head.

"How did you bury them?"

Daemyn shrugged. "Magic."

"Of course." Peter rolled his eyes, and when they landed on Daemyn again, they glowed blue. His teeth stretched into fangs and his nails into claws. Lydia tried to turn away from the changes as he shifted to his beta wolf form, but she couldn't. She tried to step backward but stayed rooted to the ground.

Peter glanced back at her and smiled around his teeth.

A scream caught in Lydia's throat, but he turned away and began clawing at the ground. It would be slow going even with added strength and speed. His hands weren't built to shovel dirt.

Daemyn inched closer to Lydia as Peter dug. "Are you okay?" he whispered.

She shook her head, searching for her voice. "Peter and I have history," she choked out. Peter's shoulders moved with silent laughter, and Lydia fought down the urge to hurl a spear through his midsection. She didn't have a spear.

"Oh my God, please tell me you don't mean dating history." Lydia hated him for thinking it, but at least he looked sufficiently disgusted at the idea.

"God no." Lydia's breathing steadied as she focused on Daemyn, even if her thoughts fixed on Peter. She refused to think about kissing Peter. "He left a ghost of himself inside my brain and forced me to bring him back from the dead, but only after haunting me and driving me crazy."

"You can do that?" She heard his plea to help his parents and wondered which one he wanted saved.

"It was a special case. He also used Derek and the moon."

"The moon and I are close friends," Peter grunted as he dug. "We speak every night and have tea together on Thursdays."

"That explains the howling." Lydia pursed her lips even though Peter's eyes stayed on the graves. It was a habit, a coping mechanism, a well-polished mask in shades of pink and red. She cast off the last of her trembling with a long breath and turned to Daemyn. "Do you know anything else about the necromancer?"

Daemyn furrowed his eyebrows in concentration and stared at Lydia's feet instead of her face. "When Mother was cursed, it was because she taught a human necromancy. I think it was him."

"That's not how she explained it to Stiles." Lydia crossed her arms.

"No, humans generally see necromancers as villains. She would hide it."

"Do you see necromancers as villains?"

"Usually, but I'm also part human. Fae don't fear it because they don't die the way mortals do."

"What does that mean?"

"They don't leave behind a body for necromancers to control, and their spirits are powerful enough to resist human control even after death."

"But that's not true for you?"

Daemyn shook his head. "It might have been one day, if I'd stayed with my mom long enough, but I'm with humans now."

"Please explain how that makes sense," Peter called from the graves. He had dug deeply enough that Lydia barely saw him past the mound of dirt piled between them. Maybe not such slow going after all.

"Half fae can be more fae, more human, sort of in the middle, or more variable. I'm the last one, so I'll reflect the people live with." He paused. "Well, not the werewolves."

Peter laughed again, and Lydia tensed against the sound as her heart raced. He laughed at that too.

~.x.~

Scott and Erica loped through the ashen forest, but they slowed to run on two feet when they reached the town limits again. He tried to tell Erica she had soot in her hair, but she slapped him and told him to focus because their brother and sister were in trouble. It took him a moment to remember she meant Isaac and Cassie. He still wasn't very good at thinking in terms of pack the way Erica did.

Before they even reached a starting place, Scott's phone rang. He answered as they ran, and grabbed Erica's arm to stop her when he recognized Isaac's voice.

"We're fine," Isaac assured them both once they stopped to listen. "Peter, Daemyn, and Lydia are at the cave. Boyd and Allison are on their way there. Jackson met up with Cassie and I, and we took on a few unicorns. They know we removed your horn." He paused then. "And Stiles is... Derek says Thera's taken over, but that Stiles is there with her."

"So he's not dead?" Hope swelled so powerfully in Scott that he couldn't help but smile.

"Not yet. John ran off, and he might go after Stiles since apparently Thera killed his way-great grandchildren."

"He's not just gonna exorcise her?" Scott had thought that was the plan all along.

"I don't think he can."

"Then what do we do?" Scott needed to know there was a way to save Stiles.

"Derek wants you and Erica to head back to help guard Stiles for now. Cassie, Jackson, and I are going to track John. Deaton says he's put what protections he can on Stiles' house, but there's not a lot he can do against a faerie and a necromancer."

Scott agreed even though it wasn't much of a plan. At least it didn't involve killing innocent people the way Derek's plans usually did.

~.x.~

Stilinski sat at his dining room table with Derek Hale across from him. They had told the others over the phone what happened. Derek glared at the tabletop like all he needed to make everything right was more anger. Stilinski wasn't sure if he should be worried this was the sort of man his son chose or impressed that he'd reached through the rage to the person beneath. Then he remembered it didn't matter because there was a monster wearing his child's skin.

He drew in a shaky breath and swallowed before blowing it out again.

"There is one thing we haven't considered yet." The words threatened to stop up his throat and passed his teeth slowly with their thickness. He thought he lost Stiles after the forest fire, but now he had a chance to glimpse him past the faerie, not always, but more than he could have before. And if he had that, then he could save his son still, there was hope. It was too good to be true.

Derek looked up at him but did not answer. A muscle in his cheek twitched.

"He could be a lie." His voice broke at the last word. Stilinski ran a hand over his face, wishing he could wash away that sentence and the thoughts behind it. If Stiles was real, then letting out glimpses of him would manipulate his loved ones, but if Stiles was an act, he'd work just the same. Part of Stilinski couldn't believe he could get his son back after what happened, and another part believed he would always get his son back, whatever happened.

Derek glanced toward the hall, but they were safe. Thera was playing with Stiles' things, sorting through which ones she liked and which ones she would destroy. Stilinski had doubted her claim that she would be staying until she started in on Stiles' closet. He still couldn't decide if this was better.

"Who?" Of course Derek would try not to face it. He might have been in his twenties, but he was still a kid.

"Stiles. She has enough power to change eye color, and maybe she can access his memories." He raised a hand to stop the outburst he saw coming in the way Derek tensed himself like an animal about to leap on its prey. "I'm not saying he is, just that he could be. And that we should be prepared for it." Not that either of them could prepare for anything, not really.

Derek deflated. Pale and shaken without even anger to keep him going, he looked like a broken boy left alone in the world. Stilinski knew as well as everyone else in town what had happened to the Hales. The woman who did it was dead now, but Stilinski knew that wouldn't have helped either. He hoped Derek had nothing to do with that. He hoped Derek had nothing to do with any of the 'animal attacks' in Beacon Hills.

"There's nothing we can do if he's not real." Derek's voice was smaller now, broken open with his weakness tumbling out.

"I meant we should prepare ourselves."

Derek nodded with his eyes on the table again.

"If you can get out, you should."

Derek's eyes narrowed.

"Daemyn and I will be here, so he won't be alone. And you'll be better off if you stay away. I know you want to help. I just want you to know you have a way out." Derek was too old for Stiles, but he was still essentially a kid.

Derek shook his head. "He's pack. I'll stay."

"Translate for an old man who didn't grow up with werewolves. What exactly does 'pack' mean?"

Derek looked Stilinski in the eye and gave him exactly the answer he'd feared. "It means family."