Chapter 78

At seven o'clock on the dot, an expectant silence fell over the apartment and Stiles' father addressed the congregation of unlikely friends and partners. Everyone was dressed up for the wonderful summer weather, the evening sun streaming in through the floor-length window and casting a golden sheen over everything. The scent of the fresh flowers Lydia had brought in for decoration mixed with the aromas of the heaping buffet in the kitchen and on the dining table, making noses twitch and mouths water.

There was no music playing now.

"Welcome, everyone, to Beacon Hill's first official werewolf turning event," John began. He looked around with his slightly bemused but also vaguely fond-looking smile and shrugged. "Never thought I'd say those words in this context, but here we are."

A few low chuckles sounded and Erica's parents shuffled their feet a little. Isaac was taking pictures, doing his best not to get in people's faces while also trying to capture everything perfectly.

"We all know the story behind the Hale pack's tragic circumstances," Stiles' father continued, "and while I have no plans to become a werewolf myself, these last six months have fundamentally changed my worldview.

"While it is true that werewolves are sometimes hairy beasts with glowing eyes and claws that might make a normal human crap their pants, it's also true that they fulfil a purpose in this world. They're protectors, as evidenced by the hard work that Peter, Derek, and Isaac have done these last few months to keep supernatural and not so supernatural threats away from Beacon Hills." John shook his head ruefully. "The sheriff department is in your debt, guys, I'm not even kidding."

Peter smiled tightly and Jackson's father nodded lightly in agreement.

Stiles could've kissed his father for slipping that bit in.

"Werewolves are also family-oriented and very keen on taking care of their own. Peter Hale, while not a traditional good samaritan, has proven to me that he wishes his people and his territory to thrive in the way best suited to them, which is nothing more or less than any human being would want for themselves and their family." The sheriff turned to Erica and Boyd and raised his water glass in a toast. "It is, therefore, my pleasure as the highest-ranking liaison between the mundane and the supernatural in this county to give my blessing to Erica and Boyd's petition to join the Hale pack and receive the bite."

Stiles cheered along with his friends and the two teens in questions actually looked relieved, like anyone present actually would've voiced objections five minutes before the bite was to happen. Only Jackson's parents seemed a little dubious, which Stiles resented a bit but also couldn't blame them for after what had happened to their son. In contrast to their reluctance, Dr Lee appeared mildly intrigued and not at all alarmed.

Seems like Peter went all out on the revealing front, Stiles thought, once again made curious by the apparent trust Peter placed in the man. I wonder what he's got his eye on.

The sheriff cleared his throat, effortlessly calming the room again. "Peter offered my son the honour of bite negotiations first and kept up with the practice, much to my relief. Erica and her parents, as well as Boyd, successfully negotiated their joining to the Hale pack over the last couple of weeks to everyone's satisfaction."

He turned his head and indicated the antique book rest where a large leather folder lay open, the last pages of the two contracts visible to everyone who might wish to take a look. In the broad stream of sunlight, they looked almost otherwordly. "These have already been signed once, but a second signature is needed now to signal Erica and Boyd's readiness to accept the turning bite." Stiles' father smiled crookedly. "Are you still willing to go through with it, kids?"

"I'm so ready for this," Erica declared, although she was a little pale in her pretty new white crop top and violet harem pants. Her hands were trembling, too, though she tried to hide that by clasping her fingers tightly. "Even if I'm shaking in my flip flops."

Stiles offered her an encouraging grin before asking Boyd, "And you, dude? All ready to go?"

"All ready," Boyd affirmed. Unlike Erica, he'd decided on simple clothes, just a comfortable navy blue T-shirt and black sweatpants.

The sheriff stepped aside, clearing the path for them to the book rest, and held out a golden pen. "Well, then. Who wants to go first?"

Ever the gentleman, Boyd let Erica step up first and place her shaky signature. He followed suit, though, as though he couldn't bear to be any more behind her than he absolutely had to.

"One signature is still missing before it's my turn," Peter said when Boyd held the pen out to him. His clear gaze settled on Stiles. "It is customary for the pack's emissary to witness pack contracts."

Stiles' mouth fell open in surprise. "I'm not an emissary."

"While you haven't received formal training yet, and we also haven't reached a formal agreement, everything you've done so far for the pack and the city's protection qualifies you for the position," Peter countered. "As far as I'm concerned, you are this pack's emissary. Would you do us the great honour and approve Erica and Boyd's contracts?"

Stiles flushed as everyone stared at him expectantly. He swallowed and needed a nudge from Lou to find his words. Thickly, he said, "Dude, of course I will. Thanks for …" He stopped again, swallowed all the pathetic words that didn't need to be said right that moment, and just murmured again, "Thanks."

Stiles' father smiled and clapped his son's shoulder as Boyd handed over the heavy gold pen. "I'm proud of you, kiddo. And I know that you'll keep an eye on your friends."

Nervously, Stiles signed under Boyd and Erica's fresh signatures and tried not to be too obviously smitten when he handed the pen to Peter. The man didn't make it easy on him; he deliberately touched Stiles' fingers and lingered for just a second too long.

When it was done, Isaac, who'd snapped dozens of pictures of the signing alone, held up both thumbs and grinned broadly. Behind him, all the other teenagers clapped. Danny even whistled with his fingers.

"I feel a little faint," Erica confessed, gripping Boyd's hand tightly and holding the hem of Stiles' T-shirt with the other. "I want it so much, but I'm afraid of the pain."

Peter approached, looking far too good in his charcoal slacks and dirty blue summer dress shirt. His bare forearms did things to Stiles and the subtle scent of his cologne didn't help either. "The pain will be very brief. Whoever you pick to take your pain will make sure that you won't suffer needlessly."

Erica took a deep breath. "I know. Thanks. I'm just, you know. Nervous."

"If you're having second thoughts, we can reschedule," Peter said easily. "If you say no, we won't go through with it, contract or no contract. Your comfort comes first."

"I won't say no," Erica replied firmly. Her eyes glanced at Mrs Whittemore, whose expression was clearly showing her misgivings.

"Great." Smiling encouragingly, Peter held out his hand to her. "Come, let's get this show on the road."

When Erica placed her hand in his without hesitation, Peter seemed to grow an inch with pride and Stiles' heart ached a little for him. While he'd learned to trust Peter, Erica had met him without many prejudices, if she'd ever had any to begin with, and her innocent acceptance had to be a balm to Peter's ravaged soul.

With Erica on his left and Boyd on his right, Peter led the party over to the couch-turned-nest. There, the two teens turned to stand before their future alpha, chin high and shoulders straight. Quietly, the rest fanned out around them, solemn and slightly worried for them now.

"Who will go first?" Peter asked formally.

"I will," Boyd said and took a small step forward.

Peter nodded his approval. "Who will take your pain?"

"Isaac," Boyd answered. His lips twitched in the tiniest of grins. "Sorry about that, I know that you wanted to keep taking pictures through it all."

Isaac shrugged and grinned back. "It's alright, Danny or Lydia can take over for a while. Thanks for trusting me with this." He handed the camera off to Danny and took up position next to Boyd.

"I will bite you in the side," Peter explained, indicating Boyd's torso. Turning to the audience, he explained, "It's far less dangerous than a bite to the wrist or the shoulder because I'm less likely to tear delicate muscles or bones, or hit a major blood vessel that way. I'll also endeavour to bite as quickly and cleanly as I can." He stared at Boyd, all tense energy now, taking him in. "Are you ready?"

"Yes, sir," Boyd said, loud and clear. Calmly, he lifted his shirt, revealing a rather fit stomach.

At this, Isaac clasped Boyd's bicep with a firm hand and without further ado, Peter bent a knee, wolfed out - and sank his fangs into Boyd's right side before anyone could form a protest.

Just like Isaac a few months ago, Boyd almost immediately went down, grimacing as he held his side. "That bite packs a punch. Sir."

Peter wiped his bloody mouth with a handkerchief as he stood. "I know. Sit down, you need to rest now."

Isaac helped Boyd into a sitting position. On his arm, black lines went all the way up to his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" Erica asked, eyes wide and face pale.

"Nothing we weren't warned about. Can I hold her hand when you bite her?" Boyd asked Peter, a little breathless.

"Of course." Peter stepped up to Erica and gently turned her head back towards himself. "Are you ready, Erica? Or do you want to sit with him for a while?"

Erica shook her head, blond curls bouncing. "No. I can sit with him when you've bitten me."

"Alright." Peter waited until the teenagers had tangled their fingers together. "I'll bite you in the same place. Who do you want to take your pain?"

"Derek, please," Erica murmured. She looked at the stunned werewolf. "If that's okay with you?"

"Of course it is," Derek replied a little gruffly. He shuffled forward and positioned himself on her free side. When Erica grasped his hand tightly, he looked down and then back up again, clearly not quite believing that she wanted him for the job.

"Ready?" Peter asked, only lowering himself back down when she'd nodded her assent.

"Do it," Erica whispered, closing her eyes and squeezing the hands in hers until her knuckles turned white.

Peter didn't hesitate; he leaned forward and sank his fangs into Erica's bare midriff.

Her shocked gasp tore at Stiles and all the grown males in the room involuntarily twitched in her direction. Erica's mom pressed her hands over her mouth, tears welling in her eyes.

"It's over," Peter murmured as he stood and assisted Derek in setting her down next to Boyd. "You both did so well. How are you feeling?"

"A little woozy," Erica admitted in a small voice. "Mommy? Daddy?"

At once, her parents hurried to her side, although Mrs Reyes was kind enough to also fuss over Boyd. Danny approached and respectfully asked to take more pictures of them as a family if they felt up to it. His good manners endeared him to the Reyes and they took a few minutes to pose as well as they could with two bleeding wounds between them.

"Am I allowed to bandage the bite wounds?" Dr Lee asked Peter once Danny had gone to allow the newest Hale betas some privacy. For that same reason, Stiles had gone over to his father but stayed in listening distance to Peter. "They do look nasty. If that was you being careful, I'd probably have hated to see the wound you left on Scott McCall."

"Of course you can treat them," Peter answered, tone a little abrupt. "Stiles did it for Isaac as well. It eased his mind a little."

"The Whittemores could do with some mind-easing," Dr Lee commented. Apologetically he added, "Me, too, if I were perfectly honest."

"I don't blame you," Peter said stiffly.

The corner of Dr Lee's mouth tipped up. "I knew what would happen today, you were very frank in your explanation. And I don't blame you for what happened in January. It was a bad business all around. As a doctor, I just wish none of it had ever happened. It wasn't fair for anyone."

"No, it wasn't," Peter conceded after a lengthy silence.

"I'll get my bag," Dr Lee murmured. "Good work, Peter."

Stiles was worried about Peter's mood but he decided to hover next to his friends as Dr Lee cleaned and wrapped the bite wounds. "It sucks that I can't use healing cards on you guys."

"No chasing away the wolfies," Erica chuckled faintly. "That pain drain stuff is great, but I'm still feeling strange. Ugh."

"We'll have to stop soon," Derek warned. "An absence of a reaction might discourage the spirits to settle in you as much as magical healing. Magic can be tricky that way."

"That's okay," Erica said. "We knew going in that it'd hurt."

"And that it had to hurt," Boyd added, pressing a kiss to Erica's hair. "We've got each other, we'll get through it."

"You'll sleep a lot," Isaac reminded them. "You won't feel so great but it won't be unbearable."

"And we'll be here if you want a distraction," Derek said quietly. Gently, he eased his hand out of Erica's grip.

"Not everyone at once, though," Stiles threw in, forcing a grin. "Someone's gotta eat all that food over there. Those lamb chops in Metaxa sauce won't live to see the next day."

"You asshole, those are my favourite," Erica laughed, only to wince. "Ow. Don't do that. It hurts like a bitch."

"'kay," Stiles promised. He kneeled in front of her and took her hand. "I'll wait until tomorrow to tease you about all the food I wolfed down."

"Stiles," Isaac groaned at the bad pun.

"From tomorrow on, I'll always out-eat you," Erica threatened. "And probably drink you under the table, too."

Stiles beamed. "Bring it on, Catwoman!"

oOo

For a couple of hours, Erica and Boyd were lucid enough to nibble on some food and get some soda down, but then they crashed, hard. On the TV their chosen movies were playing, but they didn't really have the presence of mind to follow them.

Throughout the evening, everyone took turns sitting with them, even Mrs Whittemore. Stiles didn't mistrust her, per se, but he did sidle up with his drink in hand to listen in, just in case.

"After what happened to my son, I couldn't understand how someone would voluntarily want to suffer through this," Mrs Whittemore admitted in a quiet voice, carefully holding Erica's clammy hand. She smiled wistfully. "But your ceremony was nice, and everyone took the consent issue very seriously. I was surprised that Peter asked David to look over the contracts, but those two always worked well together so maybe I shouldn't have been." She paused. "I'm glad it went so well for you two."

"Me, too. Y'know tha' we'll take care of Jack'sn," Erica mumbled drowsily, getting right to the heart of the matter. "Everythin'll be a'right."

Boyd snuffled into her hair and tightened his arm around her waist.

Mrs Whittemore softened even further. "I really hope so. He deserved better. And I hope that this will make things right for you, too. Being healthy is so important. I can't blame your parents for wanting this for you."

Erica smiled even as she sniffed. "When I told them, I thought they'd tell me t'get out. But they didn't. I love them so much."

As if summoned by a mental distress signal, Erica's mother appeared and sat down by her daughter's feet. "Is everything alright, honey?"

"We're fine, mom," Erica whispered. "Just told Mrs W how happy I am about this."

Mrs Reyes looked at Jackson's mother. "My husband and I were so sorry when we heard what Jackson had to go through. If you want to talk, just give us a call. Or better yet, come over for a glass of wine or five. We parents have to stick together, don't we?"

"I could do with another glass of wine," Mrs Whittemore confided with a deep sigh. "I probably won't ever be easy about any of this, but I am glad for your daughter." She carefully touched Boyd's shoulder. "And for him as well. He seems to have found someone special in your daughter and this … this pack."

"We hope that it'll remain that way. Come, Zia. Peter's just opened a lovely rosé," Mrs Reyes beckoned. "Stiles, would you be a dear and sit with them for a little while?"

"No problem," Stiles agreed easily. He waved off Isaac who was trying to get his attention.

The two women promptly retreated to the kitchen and poured themselves generous glasses of wine, their husbands joining them not a minute later with a half-full glass of whiskey, each. From afar, they seemed to warm up to each other quickly, something that Jackson was noting with a confused frown on his face.

Stiles did his best to climb into the nest without spilling his grapefruit-and-pomegranate lemonade. To his surprise, Boyd and Erica separated to allow him into their midst, and Stiles was even further surprised when not only Erica placed her head half on his lap and threw an arm around his waist, but Boyd as well.

"Huh, okay, I can roll with the puppy pile," Stiles said, dumbfounded. On his skin, Lou suddenly became active and crawled all over his arms and onto his friends' shoulders.

Isaac and Danny came up, both looking a little guilty.

"Danny said that he could try and build us a website," Isaac said.

"Actually, I've already started," Danny admitted. "Since we're already here, I thought I could show the others what I've done so far. Jackson needs a little break from all that parental supervision anyway. Will you three be okay for a little while without us?"

"I think so," Stiles replied. "We're just gonna snuggle for a bit. My dad has taken over photographing duty; if anything interesting happens, he'll document it."

Isaac sagged a little with relief. "Oh, thank you. Jackson's not the only one who needs a break. Mrs W means well, but she's the motherly type. She keeps on asking me whether I'm really happy with Peter as my guardian."

"I'll show you the website later," Danny promised. "Should we bring anything from the workshop? Some more healing cards perhaps?"

"Nah, we're good," Stiles said. "So far things seem to be going alright. Derek is on bite rejection watch, the next check is in an hour or so."

"We won't be gone that long," Danny said.

"We think," Isaac added. "Just text if you need us, or you get bored."

Stiles rolled his eyes and sent them off. It was only a little after ten, he'd be wide awake for at least another two hours, and he was well able to entertain himself.

Lou seemed to be of the same opinion because he slowly kept on oozing over Erica and Boyd's skin. For the sake of his friends' modesty, Stiles asked Lou to keep information about their bodies to himself if it didn't pertain to the bite wounds and thankfully the wolf spirit obliged.

Man, that's wild, Stiles thought as Lou showed him a map of sorts of Boyd's bite wound. He could sort of see the dimensions of the punctures and tears, and there! Was that something taking root in the two deepest areas where Peter's incisors had torn the flesh?

Spirit siblings are trying, Lou supplied excitedly. Magic healthy.

Oh my god, really?, Stiles mentally shot back.

Lou sent a huge wave of happiness crashing into Stiles and before the teen could even compute the maelstrom of feelings, a couple of tears had already dripped from his eyes. Hastily, he wiped them away and tried to control his breathing before one of the werewolves or Skalyboy freaked out.

It turned out that his hopes were in vain. Summoned by the slightly salty smell and the hitches in his breathing, every last one of the guests appeared by the couch and stared worriedly at him.

"Hey, are you okay?" Stiles' father asked, carefully settling down next to Boyd. "Are you having a panic attack?"

"No," Stiles mumbled. He stared wonderingly at his half-asleep friends. "I just heard from Lou that the wolf spirits are trying hard to connect with Erica and Boyd. He said that the magic is healthy."

"That's good," the sheriff said soothingly as the others exclaimed quietly about that bit of news. "Isn't it?"

"Yeah, of course." Stiles looked up, letting his eyes wander over Lydia's uncharacteristically worried face and Jackson's somewhat hunched posture. The poor dude looked bewildered at his reaction to Stiles' mood … from a floor down, no less. Even Dr Lee's normally quite placid expression showed some concern. "He was just really happy about it. Hit me like a freight train." He glanced aside, ashamed, and found Derek's earnest, unsmiling face. "I guess you, uh, whole werewolves don't have mood swings like that."

"No," Derek said. "We are one, neither can influence the other in that way."

"Although I find the concept of two entities twining together like you and Lou are doing fascinating," Peter admitted. He sat by Erica and placed his hand over Stiles' on her shoulder. "Don't feel ashamed for how you and Lou feel. Your partnership is something unique, and something quite wonderful. It's very good to know that they're doing well, so far."

Mrs Reyes nodded rapidly. "It is, Stiles. Could you … would you mind checking up on them as well? I trust Peter and Derek's sense of smell, but if you've got magic to find out …"

"Quite," Peter said with some humour. "I can't believe that it didn't even cross my mind."

"Sorry for making you all twitchy," Stiles apologized. He smiled tentatively. "But thanks for coming. I think it's okay now, Lou won't overreact like that again. I hope."

Lydia flipped her long hair back and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Well, I'm not going to test your assumption. Jackson, get me a chair, I'm staying with Stiles."

"Yes, ma'am," Jackson muttered and stomped off to do her bidding.

Danny smiled, showing off his dimples, and said, "I'll just get Isaac's laptop and show you the website on that. It was just easier showing it off on the large screens downstairs."

Isaac brought a large tray of snacks, Derek carried over a whole pitcher of lemonade, and Jackson almost didn't curse at all as he brought several more chairs so everyone could sit comfortably.

Touched, Stiles smiled at his friends, nudging both Jackson and Danny's knees with his toes while bumping Derek's shoulder with his own. On his other side, Isaac was holding a plate with Greek starters in easy reach. "This turning party was the best idea of the summer. It's so awesome to do this together."

Lydia on Jackson's lap sniffed haughtily. "As if I'd tolerate a pathetically seedy event that still has the power to make me uncomfortable forty years later. If the pack is doing this, it'll be doing it right."

"Maybe I could have one as well," Jackson said, a little stilted. "To make up for the shittiness of my turning. My dad and Hale are already negotiating a contract anyway, might as well make the best of it."

"Dude," Stiles exhaled. "I feel so bad for not thinking of it myself." He wiggled a little to get into a more upright position. "What do you wanna do for yours? Since you're already turned, we can do all the fun things! And do you know the best thing about it? If you're gonna sign a contract, we can have another one. Because why not?"

"I like your way of thinking," Lydia said approvingly. "I've always wanted to try paintball."

"A night at the arcade," Danny offered.

"Why not Disneyland?" Isaac asked. "It's not like the pack can't afford it."

"God help us all," the sheriff muttered and took a large gulp of his beer.

Mr Whittemore smiled wryly. "I prefer that the world be hit by our kids, instead of the other way around."

"Oh, David," his wife admonished.

"He's right, Zia," Peter said smoothly, showing sharp teeth as he grinned. "The world can be a harsh place for supernaturals. They should make the absolute best of it. And if they want Disneyland, that's what they'll get."

"That's why you're my favourite," Stiles said, not caring that he didn't sound half as sarcastic as he probably should, and also not caring that his eyes were growing hot.

Smugly and with equally red eyes, Peter replied, "I know."

End of chapter 78