See chapter one for disclaimer

A/N: I gotta say, my new job at work (even with all the down time I have) is just not conducive to writing. Way too many people around and they are so chatty. It's been two months, people. I am so sorry.

As for the poll, most want super long…so, we're gunna go with that. Not just because most of you want that, but also because I know me…and if I put a finish on this before the story I'm telling is done, I may not start part two for a while. At least with this sitting unfinished, I work on it.

Something I haven't done, and I'm a horrible person, is that I haven't thanked any of you for the reviews and kudos. Seriously, thank you! It's amazing that so many people like this thing, that started out as a bunny that I hadn't planned on posting at all. With that said…onwards and enjoy!

Stiles stood in the back yard at dusk, watching as his friends (and not friends? Seriously, his current relationship status with Erica, Boyd, and Jackson was just confusing. Well, maybe not with Jackson. That was still pretty antagonistic.) shifted restlessly as the moon began edging over the horizon. As he noticed the sun about to set opposite the moon rise, he nodded at Derek who nodded in return and started to usher the pack into a semi-circle around him. Stiles dad moved to stand behind Stiles, Quinton's small hand tucked into his own. Melissa stood with the pack but near his dad, her own hand encased with his other one.

Stiles motioned for Erica to take Quinton's hand to close the circle. Once done, Stiles faced Derek before lowering his head and showing his neck as he let his magic bleed out into the air between them. After Derek's eyes flashed red at the indication of submission to the Alpha of the pack, Stiles began to speak, "Here I stand of my own free will under the light of the mother moon, pledging myself and the future generations of my family blood in an allegiance of support to the Hale pack – only to be broken upon the death of the last," He swallowed when Derek took in a sharp breath.

This was a part of the oath that Stiles had added, a caveat that would keep Quinton and any others after him safe, that might have kept his mom alive after the fire. He couldn't handle the knowledge that if something happened to the pack, it would affect Quinton, not him. His grandfather was a living testament of that happening. It was probably the biggest issue with blood born spells he figured.

"I swear to never raise a hand against the Hale pack, to help defend against enemies of the pack, and to aid those of the pack in need whenever and however possible."

Stiles couldn't help the gasp he emitted as his magic began to swirl around them, feeling like a gusty fall wind as it traversed between his family and the pack like a ribbon tying them together.

Derek took a deep breath, eyes bleeding red and staying that way as he brought Stiles magic into himself. He took a moment to compose himself before opening his mouth, "Here I stand of my own free will in the shadow of the father sun, pledging myself and the future generations of my pack in an allegiance of support to the Stilinski bloodline – only to be broken upon the death of the last," Derek took another ragged breath before continuing, "I swear to never raise a hand against the Nowak bloodline, to help defend against enemies, and to aid the line in whatever need they may have."

As soon as Derek finished speaking, Stiles magic seemed to reach its peak with a resonating hum before it slammed into the flower petals lying in a pile between their feet. The magic was almost concussive as it hit, the ground shaking from the force of it. The petals swirled up into the air, dissolving into a mass of colorful blinking lights as they went. As the lights reached chest height between Stiles and Derek, they stopped and hovered in a sudden silence that was almost deafening after the few prior moments.

Stiles met Derek's eyes over the lights just as they split into two and slammed into their chests. Stiles dropped to his knees with a gasp, shocked that he could actually feel a heat coming from the lights around the core of his magic as it tied into it. The lights then reached back out into the air and merged into the light exuding from Derek. Stiles couldn't help but gasp a second time as the webbing of lights from the spell melted over his magical core once the link between him and Derek settled. He had a very distinct feeling that, when away from the pack, he would now have some better control over his magic. He had no idea how much, but hell - wouldn't it be something if he could finally use his damned wings?

Stiles blinked and looked around when the pack sighed and Quinton giggled all in unison as the magic swirling around them stopped and then settled over the group like a warm blanket. He cleared his throat and looked back at Derek, "I think that's it?"

Derek gazed back at him before letting a small smile slip through, "I can feel you again. It's not the same as before, but…"

Stiles cocked his head, "And this time it's a two-way street. I can feel the pack as well. Just…a general sense of…well-being? I'm guessing that'll change if anyone becomes hurt?"

Derek nodded, "Might. I don't know much about how the allegiance spell works. Mom never talked about it." He climbed to his feet and offered Stiles his hand.

Stiles grasped it and let out an involuntary grunt as the man pulled, not even giving Stiles a chance to get his feet under him, "Thanks," Stiles gasped, rubbing at his shoulder, "Warnings are thing, just so you know."

Derek tightened his hand and leached some of the pain from Stiles, even as he faced his pack, "Watch the woods. Kelpies don't like magic, but they can still feel it. He's going to know we did something. Stiles and I are going to get the group staying here settled. Don't roam too far."

Stiles swept Quinton up into his arms and snuggled him in close as he started for the house. Quinton giggled at him and pushed at his face as Stiles tried to steal a kiss, "Noooo, don'…"

"Just one!" Stiles gave him his own puppy dog eyes, manfully ignoring his father's eye rolling as he held the door open, "Please Q?"

Quinton heaved a sigh as if put upon, "Jus' one." He placed his little palms on Stiles cheeks and gave Stiles a kiss that was more noise than anything.

"And there's my new background," Derek said from where he stood off to the side, "Hand him over and go get the last bulb."

Stiles blinked at Derek for a moment before nodding. He tightened his arms around Quinton for a second, before placing a more serious kiss on the five year olds cheek as Quinton shifted to go to Derek.

Once Stiles arms were free, he went into the dining room and grabbed the bulb from where he had placed it behind one of his father's fishing books. While none of them had left the house since he had gotten back from Deaton's and all of the were's could smell wet horse with ease, he just couldn't justify it to himself to leave it lying around out in the open.

Cradling it in his hand, he walked back into the kitchen, pausing to lean in and nose at Quinton's temple, "Love you Q-bean. Be good for grandpa, Melissa, and Isaac. Okay?"

Quinton nodded, his brown eyes solemn, "I will, promise. Love you daddy."

Stiles smiled and pulled away, only to be tugged gently into Melissa's arms, "Keep everyone safe," She whispered, her fingers tight at the back of his shirt.

"I will do my best," Stiles replied, not willing to promise anything more.

Melissa pulled back with a small sniff before cuffing him gently upside the head, her normal form of affection with him, "That's all I ask."

Stiles looked at Isaac, who was hunched in on himself like he wasn't sure what was going on around him. Stiles gave him a small smile which was returned half-heartedly, "Isaac…"

Isaac seemed to shrink even more before his eyes. Stiles wasn't quite sure why that was, until he followed Isaac's line of sight and saw that Quinton had curled up into his favorite spot at the nape of Derek's neck. He turned back to Isaac just in time to see his baby blues flicker away from him and towards the island. Oh. So it was like that.

"C'mere you goof," Stiles muttered, reaching out with his free hand to pull the other wolf in his life that was incapable of using words into his arms, "Scent it up buddy. One time free pass here."

Isaac let out a happy little whine and leaned in, pressing his nose in at the spot below Stiles ear that Derek was so fond of and the one that Scott went for when given half the chance. Stiles raised an eyebrow at that. If it turned out that that was a high dose scent spot, and he was so going to ask once the shit storm was over, he and his wolves were going to be having a little talk about boundaries and just when scenting him there was appropriate. Stiles was under no illusion that now that he was no longer officially pack, those that could actually stand him would be all up in his business to keep him smelling like them given half the chance.

"Take care of them Isaac," Stiles said, running his hand through blond curls, "You got the powers, dude, use them."

Isaac nodded, "Yeah, yeah of course."

Stiles slid his hand from Isaac's hair to cup is neck for a moment before stepping away, "Okay. Okay, we're not going off to war here. Why are we all being so damned emotional?"

John clapped him on the shoulder, "Might as well be son, for all you know."

Stiles turned to his dad, "Et tu?"

"Yeah, me too," John said, yanking Stiles in like he was a rag doll, "You used your mom's name?"

Stiles nodded and tightened his hold on his dad, "It didn't seem right, re-starting the alliance under the Vista name. Q and I are more Nowak. I never even met Great-Grandma Vista."

John coughed to clear a suddenly clogged throat, "I know you won't make any promises, but you better try your damnedest to come back safe, you hear me? If you don't, I'll kill you myself."

"I will dad, I swear, I'll do my best. I need to." Stiles tucked his head into John's shoulder, suddenly wishing he was little again when his dad was the one to make the boogy-monsters go away.

"I know."

"Stiles," Derek said, "We need to go."

Stiles pulled away from his dad, sticking his tongue out when he received a kiss to his temple from the man, "Dad, gross." He wiped at the spot viciously, even as his heart swelled. He hadn't received a kiss from his old man in years. He had kinda missed that form of affection, even if he had been the one to pull away from it as he had gotten older and started to find it embarrassing.

He turned and plucked Quinton from Derek's arms, pressed one last kiss to a chubby cheek and deposited the boy into his dad's arms, "Well…expect a call in a few hours or so. Keep it to texts until then unless it's an emergency."

"We know Stiles," John said, rolling his eyes, "Get out of here already, so I can con Melissa into making her famous hot chocolate."

"Dad!" Stiles exclaimed, even as Derek grabbed his arm and started dragging him out of the house, "No! She use's milk chocolate, you can't have any of that!"

"Good luck Stiles," John said with a huff, before shutting the door in his face.

"Seriously," Stiles said, with a frown, "Rude."

He turned to the yard and saw the remaining were's lining the tree line, heads cocked as they listened for something he couldn't possibly hear. Lydia, the only other non-were besides himself that would be attending that night, had already left to make her way to the house. Stiles grabbed the spade from the porch railing and hopped down into the yard making for the one corner that had already been prepped. He dropped the bulb into the remaining hole and buried it with quick efficiency.

"Just need to lay the mountain ash circle and we're good," Stiles said, pulling a leather pouch from his jeans pocket. He dumped a small amount of ash into his hand, and after motioning the were's into the forest line, closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, and with all the belief he could muster, dropped to his knee and slammed his hand into the ground. He opened his eyes in time to see the circle settle where he wanted, surprised to see faint glimmerings of blue and red settle with the powder. That was new. And probably something he would need to show Deaton when they resumed his training the following week.

"Let's go."

Stiles looked up at Derek before climbing to his feet. He took Derek's hand and promptly squealed – in a totally manly fashion, shut up Jackson – as Derek swung him onto his back and took off at a sprint into the woods. Stiles clutched at Derek's shoulders, peering over at the path ahead of them, trying like hell to use his magic to give them a clear and undisturbed trail. The faster they got to Hale land and away from his house, the better.

"He's out there," Erica said, leaning against the railing with her eyes trained towards the pond at the far end of the backyard and the forest beyond.

Stiles kept his eyes on the press in front of him, "I know."

There was a scoff to his left and Stiles glanced over, catching sight of Jackson throwing a lacrosse ball towards Boyd, "You know?"

Stiles shrugged, "I can sorta feel him. Like a faint awareness of a kelpie in the area. If I really felt like it, I could listen for him and pinpoint his current position."

"Then why don't you? For that matter, why don't we?" Erica asked, tipping her head back, "We could end this right now."

Stiles grabbed another handful of grapes to put through the press, "I promised my dad I'd wait."

"For what? For him to kill all of us?"

Stiles rolled his eyes, "Seriously Jackson? You think one Kelpie is going to take out an entire pack of werewolves? No, I promised him that I wouldn't go after him unless he crossed city limits. Hale land is outside of that. At this point, he has to be the one to start the confrontation."

Stiles pressed the last of the grapes through before pouring the juice into a jug that already held the plants it needed to ferment with. He pressed the cork in before storing the jug away until it was needed…if it was needed. He still hadn't decided on that one yet.

As he straightened, he felt a disconcerting wave of uneasy anticipation flow along the bond that connected him to Derek and thus the pack. His eyes flit to Derek and Scott, who had come to a dead stop in the middle of the yard, looking in the same direction that Erica had been.

He stepped off the porch and came to a stop next to Erica, who whispered, "He's moving."

"In?"

"Yes, but…he's following one of the feeding paths. If he sticks to it, he'll hit the yard on the far side of the house."

"Is he in horse form?"

"Yes."

"No."

Stiles looked between Erica and Scott, who had moved back to join them, "Well, which is it?"

"He just changed back to human. Probably so he didn't have to follow the trail," Scott said, eyes still trained outwards, "He's about twenty yards out yet."

"Hmm," Stiles tilted his head and focused on letting out his hearing. He stumbled a bit on his own feet when he caught the sound of barely labored breathing and the wet squelching of shoes, "Shit, he must have spent all day out at the lake. He's going to be strong."

He felt Scott's gaze finally move to him, "What?"

Stiles squeezed Scott's arm tightly, "Kelpies…water makes them stronger. The longer they stay on dry land, the weaker they get."

"He probably followed that creak that leads south from the lake before taking on horse form when he found a feeding path," Lydia said, stepping out of the house with Stiles old baseball bat, which she had infused with anise root.

"Can't we get the leaf blower and dry him off? Wouldn't that make him weaker?" Erica asked.

"No, not really. A little bit, but after spending all day in the water? Not enough to make a difference. It's time spent away from the water, not necessarily the water itself," Lydia answered.

When Erica made a noise of confusion, Stiles added, "Think of it like mermaids – ones that could take on a human form. They will always be strongest in the water, because that's what they are born to. If one takes human form and walks the land, its unnatural for them, so they will weaken the longer they are away from it and showers only do so much. Once they return to their natural habitat, their strength will return."

"Huh," Erica said, "So do we have an advantage with this one then at all?"

Lydia tapped the bat against the heel of her tennis shoe before swinging it up onto her shoulder as all of the wolves suddenly took on their beta form. Stiles grabbed his scythe dagger from where it had been leaning against the porch steps and gripped it tight.

"Only that he's a salt water kelpie and not fresh water. He won't be as strong as he could be," Lydia said as Alex burst through the tree line.

The kelpie glanced around at the group, taking in the snarling faces with disinterest before his eyes settled on Stiles, "Ah, there you are you little half-breed. I gotta say, you're a hard kid to get close to, but here we finally are. He will be so pleased."

TBC…