Okay so this is super rough in places, but I've been sick these last few days (it was at least a cold though I wasn't tested for covid, so who knows) and only now managed to finish this chapter. Fair warning: there's talk about grief and guilt and the not so successful dealing thereof within this chapter. If you have issues with depression, you might want to proceed carefully at the end, although in my opinion it's not super bad.

Stay safe!

Chapter 42

Contrary to Derek's unvoiced, yet obvious wishes regarding the signing of the Argent agreement, Stiles and Isaac's creative energy was thoroughly spent by dinner time and their attention naturally turned to the large scroll lying on Peter's coffee table.

"It does look important," Isaac stated as they munched on stir-fried veggies and roast duck from the best Thai place in town.

"It's worth nearly twenty million dollars," Stiles agreed. "In case you didn't listen in yesterday, Peter and I both think we should sign it ASAP-ish."

"ASAP-ish?" Peter questioned, smiling crookedly. "I haven't heard that one before."

"Well, we should do it soon, but we promised to skype with Erica and Boyd today, so that comes first," Stiles explained and glanced at the clock on his phone. "Erica will pout because it's gotten so late."

"Do we tell them why?" Isaac asked.

Peter went by to collect his empty plate. "Better leave it until she and Boyd are in the know. Without that context, Stiles telling them about a random pseudo-magic shop he intends to open with your help might seem a bit barmy if you haven't already told them about it. Besides, I'm a firm believer in keeping things to myself as long as they're not ready to be set in motion."

"Amen," Stiles agreed. He finished his food and cheekily stacked his plate on top of the one already in Peter's hand. "I'll help with the cleanup and you call Erica, Isaac. Let's see whether there is any news about Lydia and Jackson."

It only took a few minutes to load the dishwasher and wipe down the coffee table, but Erica apparently had been laying in wait and had immediately accepted Isaac's call.

"Where are you?" she demanded to know, craning her head to peer around Isaac's face. Next to her, Boyd looked equally curious, which was a little weird. "That's not Stiles' house, and it's not a diner either."

"I'm at home," Isaac huffed with an eye roll. "Peter's got delusions of home decor grandeur."

"Ooooh," Erica hooted. "Give us a tour!"

"Can I, Peter?" Isaac asked.

"Stay in the public spaces," Peter returned affably. "Hello Erica, Boyd. It's good to see you again."

"Hi," Erica purred, accepting Boyd's little cuff against the arm without complaint. After a moment of Isaac carrying the laptop around the den, kitchen, and his room, she said, "Your home looks awesome. Very industrial, but the furniture is almost shabby chic. And I dig the couch! Is it suede?"

"It is," Peter said, smirking at Stiles who was busy knotting a full trash bag. "How do you like the cobalt blue?"

"I love it; it looks great with the white furniture and plants all around. Isaac, let me see the art print … nice! Rome's definitely on my bucket list."

They chatted for a bit longer and when Stiles was done with his chore Peter excused himself to attend some paperwork Jackson's father had sent over while Derek left for a run through the preserve. None of them felt great about going anywhere alone just yet, but not patrolling the territory was even worse for a werewolf.

"They're both still hot like burning," Erica said conspiratorially, earning herself another cuff from Boyd. "Oh stuff it, you know I'm right, honey bear."

"Honey bear," Stiles snickered.

"I wouldn't tease him if I were you," Erica said cheerfully. "So, are you two interested in gossip?"

"Sure, fire away!" Stiles grabbed his glass of water and expectantly settled down next to Isaac. "What went down after we left?"

"First of all, Jackson left maybe fifteen minutes after you did, and wasn't shy about telling us why when we asked," Boyd told them.

"And then Lydia," Erica went on dramatically, "had an absolute screaming fit when one of those college douches nearly drowned in the pool. He was completely drunk, mind, and his friends got him out in time, but that scream was something else."

"Could've woken the dead," Boyd agreed calmly.

Erica snorted inelegantly. "It did wake a couple of neighbours, and they called the police, who then called an ambulance for the nearly drowned idiot."

"Wow, sounds like a great finale to the party," Stiles commented. A slight shiver went up his arms. "When was this?"

"After eleven," Erica promptly supplied. "By the way, Isaac, that blond gym junkie girl was asking about you. She gave me her number, in case you wanted to get together."

Isaac's eyes nearly popped out of his skull in horrified surprise. "What?"

"She must be crazy, the way you insulted her all evening, but maybe she's into it." Erica grinned. "I'm not kink shaming anyone, just so you know."

"Burn it, yeah?" Isaac said roughly.

Boyd held a slip of paper with a number on it into the camera and ripped it into confetti. "She was too old for you anyway."

"So what did Lydia really want? We don't think Jackson lied, but he wasn't all that forthcoming, either," Erica asked. "Don't look at me like that, Stiles. You were gone, she follows, and afterwards you're leaving in a hurry? Doesn't take a genius to figure out that something went down."

"What she said," Boyd added.

Stiles' face heated up a little. "Uh, well, Lydia did sort of propose that we become, er, friendly, only she didn't want to break up with Jackson-"

"That utter slag," Erica said derisively, causing Boyd to side-eye her. "Yeah, yeah, boo, I'm not a poster girl for morality, but come on. Looking for outside fun without everyone being on board is super shitty."

"I know, right!" Stiles cried and flailed a little. Next to Erica, Boyd relaxed again. "Jackson obviously wasn't on board with that either, so Isaac and I left before more drama could occur."

"Since I was being stalked by a cougar college girl anyway and all," Isaac supplied dryly.

"Do you know what's gotten into Lydia to pull such a stunt?" Erica pressed. "No offence, but everybody knows just how much you're not her type, Stiles. I honestly had trouble sleeping because it was so weird."

Stiles decided to throw them both a bone and said, "I guess it's got to do with the attack in January. She was really sick for a while, and I guess the trauma's still there. Since I'm connected to the town sheriff, she could see me as someone safe or something. Wouldn't even be the first time."

"People are so weird," Boyd said.

"I feel sorry for her," Stiles replied. "She probably doesn't have any real friends if she thinks that pimping herself out is the way to go. But enough of that. Did your first date go alright? Will you give the relationship thing a try?"

Erica blushed a little and glanced at Boyd. "Well, yes. We've talked about it. Is that really okay? We don't want things to get weird just when we've become friends."

"Are you kidding me?" Isaac asked. "That's the best news we've had in weeks!"

"Seriously," Stiles insisted when Erica failed to look relieved. "You said it: we're friends. Maybe it won't work out between you, but so what? As long as you two don't hate each other, we'll all stay friends." He lifted his wrist with the friendship bracelet on it. "I gave you those for a reason, okay?"

"Okay, Batman," Erica answered, smiling brilliantly as she raised her own wrist. "We're the four musketeers. One for all and all for one."

"Sounds good," Boyd said quietly, but firmly, going as far as showing off his own bracelet.

"Yep," Isaac agreed and all four of them gently bumped their bracelets to the screen of their laptop to seal their vow of friendship.

"Now that we're sworn in … can someone please explain vectors to me?" Erica begged. "I know I said that I'm prepared for the exams, but when I went over it this morning, I realized that I am hopeless."

"Maybe it's just nerves," Isaac said. "You're good at math."

"I am, but not at vectors," Erica whined. "Please help, I don't want to bomb the test."

"It's a bit late, but I'll do what I can. What's your worst area?" Stiles asked.

When Erica confessed that nearly all of it sounded like Greek to her, Stiles and Isaac settled in for a long evening of last-minute cramming.

Needless to say, the Argent agreement had to take a backseat, again, not that any of them minded very much.

oOo

Ever since the sheriff had the home security system installed and invoked the restriction on Stiles meeting Peter alone in someone's home, Peter's unannounced visits had all but stopped, but that didn't keep them from calling and texting all through next week, and for Stiles to spend his afternoons and evenings at Peter's with Isaac, as well as Erica and Boyd, who had been allowed to join them for some more revision.

"It's cool that Peter's allowing you to have friends over," Erica said to Isaac as they all lounged around the coffee table and solved chemistry equations on study sheets Stiles had dug up. "I thought he'd maybe want to wait a little longer."

"Nah, he's good with you two," Isaac returned, absently writing out his solution. "He asked the sheriff for a minor background check."

Erica cried, "He did not!"

"Actually, he did," Stiles said with a smirk. "I should know, he asked me to play messenger to keep it below the radar."

Boyd snorted. "I'm not surprised."

"Well, I am!" Erica said. "I mean, we're just kids."

"Yeah, but look at what Scott did, and he looks like innocence personified," Stiles said. He accepted Isaac's worksheet and set about checking his results. "Isaac just got away from his dad so Peter wanted to make sure it'd be okay to leave us alone here."

"I'm not mad about it," Isaac added. "He takes taking care of me seriously, at least."

"Yeah, okay," Erica murmured, flushing a little. "It's just so weird, knowing that we've been investigated. I never even shoplifted, I'll have you know."

"If it helps, my dad said that you're good people to hang out with," Stiles said with a grin. "High praise indeed, coming from him."

Erica was mollified by this, and when it was time for her and Boyd to leave, she hugged both Stiles and Isaac extra hard.

"Erica took it well enough," Isaac commented as they lounged on the couch, their warmed up dinner before them and NCIS on TV. "But she might have a problem with Peter's obsessive need to know everything. It might throw a wrench into our plans to bring her and Boyd in. They're together now, we can't leave one of them behind."

Stiles shrugged. "Seems to me that she just needs an explanation. Her parents are pretty clingy, so she's definitely used to it. And it's not like she resents them for it, so."

"Mmh." Isaac curled up against him. "I'm still worried that they'll both freak out on us if we ever tell them about the pack."

"Yeah, me too," Stiles admitted. On screen, Gibbs was head slapping DiNozzo. "Wow, that'll never not be shitty. I wonder why Tony isn't leaving the team already. Why are we watching this, again?"

"Because I refuse to watch home improvement," Isaac shot back immediately. "Speaking of which, I'll be glad when the Argent agreement is finally countersigned." He pointed at the scroll that was lying on the sideboard. While it had pride of place there, it also looked a little menacing, and Stiles supposed that the scent of the blood infused ink was unsettling for Isaac. "I don't wanna imagine how pissed the Argents are right now because you're making them wait."

"Peter and I are on it," Stiles defended himself. "Like, really. It'll probably happen this weekend, once the worst of the exams are out of the way. Plus, you know that our stuff is important, too, dude. Speaking of which, I decided that we won't need to buy a specialty press for the metallic print on the cards just yet. We can use self-inking stamps until our business has grown enough to make it worth it. One stamp costs maybe thirty dollars, if that. I just need to design the runes and we're good to go."

"Sounds good," Isaac said. "I'll write it into our journal once you've sent me the numbers."

They sat in silence for a little while, enjoying their food and following the show. Near the end of the episode, Peter and Derek returned, both looking dirty and a little dishevelled.

"What happened to you?" Stiles asked, staring. "Did you fight someone in the preserve?"

"No," Derek said and promptly vanished into the bathroom.

"We made use of the fact that there are no Argents in Beacon Hills right now and went to cut off dear Kate's head from her body," Peter said. "I remember telling you that beheading is the single best method of ensuring that a fallen enemy stays dead."

Stiles shuddered. "Yuck, that can't have been fun."

Peter's toothy grin was a little on the feral side as he replied, "Au contraire, Stiles. It gave me a great deal of satisfaction to rip her malicious head off her shoulders and toss it into a ravine in the closed part of the preserve. The animals will take care of it for us."

"Okay," Stiles managed to say with some measure of equanimity. He'd known that this would happen sooner or later, but now that he was being confronted with it, it was a little … arresting. "How did Derek take it? He didn't look too happy."

"This wasn't about making Derek happy," Peter said. "It was about putting an end once and for all to the woman who so callously destroyed our family. Even if it was tough on him, it'll be good to have closure."

"You didn't force him to help you, right?" Stiles asked quietly, which had Isaac glaring at him a little.

Peter didn't look offended, though. "He offered, actually, when I informed him of my plans for tonight. It was a surprise, but a good one."

"I guess he's glad that she won't ever come back now," Stiles offered by way of apology.

"I don't know about that. A heart can be very difficult to convince, unfortunately," Peter answered. "On that account, I'd appreciate it if you could take Derek home with you tonight, if your father will allow it."

"Sure, we're due some bro time anyway." Stiles set aside his plate and began texting. "That way he won't even have to come over tomorrow morning to finish the repairs on the jeep."

"Win-win," Peter said and smiled sharply. "And now excuse me, I need to scrub off the grave dirt before your father's people catch wind of my evening activities and decide to come look for clues here."

He locked himself in the second bathroom and Isaac poked Stiles hard into the ribs.

"Dude, you know he'd never force Derek into something like that," he hissed.

Stiles slapped the offending hand away. "Derek is mine. I had to make sure, okay."

That brought Isaac up short. "Oh. Right. I guess I understand that," he said reluctantly. "But it's still uncool to question Peter like that."

"I didn't like asking, either," Stiles confessed. "It's kind of weird to think of myself as an alpha, what without being a werewolf, so it's no wonder you feel the same."

"Yeah, well." Isaac stabbed his food with his fork, frowning a little. "It's not that, exactly."

Stiles nudged the other teen's shoulder with his when he trailed off. "Then what is it?"

Isaac shrugged unhappily. "Dunno. There's still a lot I don't understand about this whole werewolf thing. Unfortunately."

Despite his curiosity, Stiles snorted with laughter at his thoroughly put out expression. "You and me both, dude." Noticing that the episode of NCIS was nearly over, he asked, "Can we watch something else now? I sort of hate Gibbs and his god complex."

"Fine," Isaac huffed. "But no reality shows and assorted crap."

"How about Xena?" Stiles offered. "Hot babes, lots of fights … should be right up your alley."

Isaac considered the offer for a moment before agreeing. "Xena's okay, I guess. We should be able to get one episode in before you need to go home. But next time it's my turn again!"

oOo

Thankfully the sheriff had no problem with Derek keeping Stiles company after their talk the other day. In fact, his answering message to Stiles made it clear that he actually appreciated the werewolf's presence since he would be kept at work well into the night due to several simultaneous break-ins into Beacon Hill's more exclusive shops.

"Seems like some new group is trying to stake out a territory in the area," Stiles said as he threw on his hoodie and slipped into his worn out sneakers. "Apparently they're pretty agressive; my dad's concerned that they might get violent with people too, if they manage to settle down."

Peter inclined his head. "They might target the families of law enforcement officers especially if they are determined to make it happen."

"Yeah, exactly. Lots of gangs use this tactic, but most try corruption first, at least. They won't have much luck here, though, which is kind of unfortunate." Stiles grimaced. "I hope my dad's people can chase them off, or better yet, lock them up. We don't need these assholes here with all the other shit that's still going on."

"I quite agree," Peter said. "I will tap my contacts among my former colleagues and the sheriff station to find out more, and I will also try to get more intel on these people as time allows." He smiled sharply. "Who knows, maybe I'll be able to be of service to the public after they've worked so hard to restore my life to me."

Stiles nearly laughed at the thought of Peter barging into the gang's secret hideout and mowing them all down like a tasmanian devil. "I'm rooting for you. Also, pics if you can manage."

"Don't encourage him," Derek rumbled and steered Stiles to the door. "See you tomorrow morning, Isaac."

Isaac saluted from his place on the couch where he was scribbling into a sketch book. "Should I bring breakfast?"

"No," Derek said flatly. He nodded at Peter and then shoved Stiles out of the apartment, letting the door slam shut behind them.

"Ow, what's up, Sourwolf?" Stiles asked, rubbing his arm a little. "Did someone step on your tail?"

More careful now, Derek led him down the stairs and to the car. Only when they'd buckled themselves in did he relax a little.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. He closed his eyes and let his head fall against the headrest. "I feel … raw. After what we did to Kate's … to Kate."

Stiles grimaced. "I thought you would. Will you be okay?"

Derek opened his eyes again, staring out of the windshield. "I don't know."

"You loved her," Stiles said softly. "Before she betrayed you."

It was heartbreaking to see Derek work to keep up his stoic facade. "I tried to tell myself that I didn't, not really," he whispered. "That soon after Paige."

"But you did." Stiles exhaled, a little shocked to have this talk in Peter and Isaac's range of hearing. "Is that what Peter meant by what he said about the heart not easily being convinced?"

Derek just nodded.

Stiles pondered this for a long moment. At last he offered, "I think I get it."

"Do you?" Derek asked bitterly. "Because I don't. I feel like a sick bastard for still-" He broke off abruptly, jaw clenching furiously.

"Mourning her?" Stiles asked gently. He wanted to touch Derek so badly, to offer a hug or, better yet, a long cuddle to make his worries go away, but he refrained for fear of making Derek run.

"Yes." Derek's voice was scratchy. "Helping Peter do … that … it was painful. I couldn't touch her. I never could, after my family's death."

For a while they just sat there, breathing in and out and processing what Derek had said.

"I still get it," Stiles finally said. He felt very clear and calm, which was odd, considering how much he had hated Kate Argent.

"How?" Derek asked. His eyes settled on Stiles, searching his face intently.

"My mom." Stiles licked his dry lips. "You know how she was sick before she did, yeah? Frontotemporal dementia. Well, she'd forget things at first, but after a while she also became aggressive and violent. It was scary. A couple of time she came close to really hurting me or my dad … sometimes I fucking hated her for changing so much. For forgetting to be my mom and instead being this demon." He inhaled and worked to relax his tense shoulders. "After she died it took me ages to understand that it was okay to mourn her and hate the person she'd become at the same time, even if it feels like the worst betrayal."

"It's different," Derek said roughly. "She was your mom. She didn't choose to betray and hurt you."

"Believe me, that doesn't make as big a difference as you think," Stiles replied. He grabbed Derek's hand and held it tightly. "In the end all that matters is how she was before. You loved her and that's okay, because your feelings were honest and based on what she allowed you to know about her, and how she helped you deal with Paige's death. You mourn that Kate, which really is okay. She must've been pretty great, her being too old for you aside."

"She was," Derek whispered. "She seemed so … wise. She really did help me with working through everything. She was warm, and caring and …" He flushed a little. "It wasn't really about sex, you know."

Stiles sighed. "I actually thought so, yeah. I mean, first of all your family probably would've smelled that on you if it happened too often, but you also just don't seem like the type."

"I just want it to stop," Derek said tiredly. "I don't want to miss her, or mourn her death, or wish that things could've been different."

Stiles realized then that Derek was one of those people who, when they fell in love, fell hard and gave it their all. It was such a startling revelation because usually people with Derek's looks weren't looking for long-term relationships but trying to bag as many conquests as they could before eventually settling down with someone just as attractive as them.

"You'll be able to move on one day," Stiles said. "It sounds shitty when you're feeling so badly about it, and it'll probably take a long while, but eventually you'll be in a good place to try again." He held Derek's hand a little more tightly and leaned against him. "Just introduce your potential flames to us first and let us do a thorough background search first before settling down, yeah?"

The corner of Derek's mouth turned up the tiniest bit. "Sounds perfect." He returned Stiles' squeeze of the hand before freeing himself and starting the motor. "Let's go home."

End of chapter 42