Chapter 81

It wasn't Stiles' first visit to Erica's place but it was by far the most memorable. While Erica had still been asleep after her turning, her parents had transformed their living area into a veritable party room. There was a pastel-coloured paper garland spelling out HAPPY TURNING! right over the mantle of their fireplace, glittering streamers went from the small chandelier everywhere else and formed a sort of a circus tent, and then there was the side table, usually only holding the house phone and an old-fashioned Rolodex, that had been turned into a present table.

Stiles stared at the overabundance of affection with a dropped jaw. There was even a huge cake on the dining table further back … and a cheerfully decorated table for at least a dozen people besides.

Boyd by his side only quirked a tolerant smile at the Reyes' antics.

"Surprise!" Erica's parents cheered, throwing confetti, and proceeded to hug the stuffing out of their now far more robust daughter.

"Mom, Dad, you're crazy," Erica laughed even as she sniffled a little.

Mr Reyes went to give Boyd a bear hug next. "Nonsense, Princess! We need to celebrate your new lease on life! Too bad not everyone can be here right now, but the cake will still be there in the evening if your friends want to have a bit of a party."

"I'll come," Stiles piped up and was promptly tackle-hugged by Mrs Reyes.

"Of course you will," she said fiercely. "You made all of this possible. As far as we're concerned we consider you our third kid. After what you've done for Erica and Boyd, we can do no less."

Stiles froze, but only for a second. Then, he hugged back just as hard. "Thanks, Mrs R. It's an honour."

Mr Reyes took over and laughingly clapped Stiles' shoulder as he held him. "We just hope your father won't object too much."

"As if," Stiles scoffed. "He needed a village and didn't have one raising me. He won't even make a peep."

Beside him, Peter chuffed quietly before adding, " Speaking of villages, it seems the kids want to spend the day in the preserve. You're invited if you care to come along. There might be some shifting and running around."

"Well, I would love to see Erica's new … features," Mrs Reyes admitted. "Are you certain that we'd be welcome? We wouldn't want to be in the way."

Stiles texted Isaac and received an answer barely twenty seconds later. "Isaac and Derek are fine with it. No answer from Lydia, Jackson, or Danny yet."

"We'll pack the food," Mr Reyes decided. "If us mouldy parents are going to cramp our kids' style, we at least won't come empty-handed."

"I'll help," Boyd said and moved off before either of Erica's parents or Erica could protest.

oOo

The preserve was blessedly cool in comparison to the heated asphalt and humid, exhaust-laden air of the city. A lot of families were out and about, running and cycling around on the more family-friendly nature trails and occupying the public resting areas. Thankfully, none of them ventured deep enough into the forest to disturb Derek's land.

Stiles was a little smug about that because he had, very consciously, factored unintentional trespassing into the ward scheme. It was good to know that it actually worked and that Derek could finally relax there. No one needed a repeat of the unfortunate events from half a year ago even if in Stiles' memory it seemed to be much longer, what with everything that had happened in the meanwhile.

When the small group broke through the last of the underbrush before the Hale house, Mrs Reyes exhaled in surprise.

"Oh," she whispered and took her husband's hand. "It looks almost … magical."

Stiles realized that it did look a little magical. He had no idea where Derek had found the time, but some of the worst of the damaged wooden planks and one of the supporting beams of the veranda roof had been replaced with new, sturdy wood. Adding to that, the flower beds around the house looked well-tended and neat, almost like the picture of a cottage garden. The dappled and somewhat suspiciously soft sunshine over it all did the rest.

Isaac rounded the corner of the house and waved. "We're in the back! Come around!"

A bit reluctantly, the group passed the house. Stiles took his time looking around, hoping to find more evidence of Derek's hard work. He spotted it in missing ruined furniture that had still been there the last time and some replaced floorboards. Somewhere in a dark corner he even spotted neatly laid-out tools and a whole collection of wooden planks and thick beams.

In the middle of the huge back yard area, the two werewolves had set up a large wooden camping table and a dozen matching deck chairs with teal-coloured cushions. The chairs' backs were upright for now but Stiles could easily see himself leaning back and enjoying a nap in the afternoon sun.

"Wow, when did you lug all of this here?" Stiles asked, astounded. "And why didn't you ask for help?"

"It was no big deal," Derek replied and pressed his lips against Stiles' head in an affectionate gesture. "You had more important things to worry about."

"Next time tell me," Stiles pouted. "You did all of this without me and now I feel lousy. Seriously."

Derek smiled tentatively. "Alright."

For a few minutes, there was eager hugging and scenting, coupled with some weird and very entertaining werewolf noises among the supernatural creatures of the group. Derek even allowed Peter close enough for a short cheek rub and it made Stiles experience a soft warmth in his chest and a flip in his belly.

"Can we see your shift?" Mrs Reyes asked her daughter when the greetings were over. "Peter showed us, of course, but we want to know what you look like as a werewolf."

"I tried in the bathroom, Boyd too, but it's much harder than it looks," Erica confessed. "I saw my eyes flicker, though. That was pretty awesome."

"We already hear and smell much better," Boyd added. "Taste is changing, too."

"The passive gifts usually manifest first since your new senses impact the way your brain interprets information," Peter explained. "Shifting is another thing entirely. You might shift when startled or in danger, but it takes some coordination to achieve it at will. A lot is going on in the body, after all.

"Now, there are two ways to achieve the first shift," Peter continued. "You can try to find the connection to your wolf slowly … or I could scare the bejeezus out of you and force the shift." He smiled like a shark. "It's your decision."

"You promised to go easy on them," Mrs Reyes admonished, though she didn't appear afraid in the least.

"I also promised to give the kids as many choices as possible," Peter said. "Doing it slowly would be preferred. Doing it quickly might traumatize them for a bit but the connection would be nearly instant and the heightened adrenaline response would make sure that they remember the process in vivid detail for the rest of their lives."

Isaac sighed even as he rolled his eyes. "I can confirm. It was nasty but it worked like a charm."

"Well, I'm not afraid of being scared," Erica said with her chin raised and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Not anymore. Plus, I knew what was waiting for us when we negotiated. So, bring it, Alpha."

Boyd took up a position beside her. He was at least two inches taller than Peter and looked unflappable as ever. Yet, despite their disparity in height, Stiles could see the deep respect for Peter in his posture. "I agree, Alpha. You might need us soon and we want to be ready."

Peter inclined his head, his smirk getting replaced by a look of pride. "Very well, and thank you."

Again, Mrs Reyes clutched at her husband and both Derek and Isaac shifted closer to Stiles. Whether to shield him or to find refuge in Lou's alpha presence, Stiles couldn't begin to guess.

For a moment, tense silence settled over the clearing. Peter seized up his betas and they stared warily back, not really knowing what awaited them but trying to brace for it anyway.

Suddenly, Peter erupted. He exploded into his alpha shift, morphing into his humongous black wolf body in the blink of an eye, and roared at his new betas with everything he had.

At once, Erica and Boyd slipped into their beta shift and dropped to the floor, cowering like hysterical little children who were stalked by a living, breathing nightmare. Their high-pitched whimpers were barely audible even in the echoes of that terrible roar.

"Jesus," Mr Reyes said faintly, crossing himself. Her face was nearly grey, she'd paled so much.

Mrs Reyes gaped speechlessly at Peter, wide eyes raking over his terrifyingly long teeth, his glaring red eyes, and the knife-like claws.

"Yeah," Derek agreed hoarsely, barely holding himself upright. He'd also gone pale under his stubble and a faint sheen of sweat covered his face and neck.

Isaac on Stiles' other side lost the fight against his weak knees and curled inelegantly against Stiles' legs. He was shaking like mad and he hadn't even been the intended recipient of that roar. "Shit," he gasped. "I'd forgotten just how nasty it was."

Human Stiles might have quivered as well. Had, in fact, quivered in the past when faced with slavering monsters out for his blood. But with Lou in his corner, Stiles was honestly rather unimpressed with this show of dominance. He only felt worry for his friends, and a slight tinge of annoyance at Peter for scaring Derek and Isaac like that, but not much else.

Carefully so he wouldn't spook the man, Stiles placed his hand around the nape of Derek's neck. "Alright?"

"Yeah," Derek murmured after a beat. He glanced from Stiles to Isaac. "Just reminded me."

Of Peter when he was insane, he didn't say but Stiles understood.

"We're all in a better place, now," Stiles said soothingly. Inside of him, Lou wasn't so calm. Without Stiles' conscious thought, he streamed onto Derek's clammy skin and also curled around Isaac's shoulder in support. "But maybe we should reconsider doing that with an audience."

Peter turned back into his human form, all dignified in the tatters of his clothes. "I did warn you." He thoughtfully took in his shaking and whimpering betas and hummed quietly. "Though I agree. It's unnecessary to subject established pack members to this if they're done nothing to earn a remedial lesson." Crouching down, he gently touched the teens' ankles. "It's over pups. Take deep breaths and shake it off. I'll join you when I'm presentable again. Excuse me for a minute."

He stood, vanished around the house, and returned a minute later dressed in board shorts and a tight-fitting T-shirt. Without hesitation he got right up in Erica and Boyd's business, pulling them to their feet and hugging them close.

"You were very brave," Peter told them in a rumbly voice. "Very well done, you two. Keep taking deep breaths … slowly. Relax. In a minute you can go and cuddle with the others. Mind your strength around your parents and Stiles, please."

Erica let out a sob and Boyd crowded close to both her and Peter.

Part of Stiles was appalled by this training technique but Lou assured him that young wolf sparks absolutely needed to be disciplined to be able to integrate into the pack. Left alone, their violent urges could and would harm innocent bystanders, as evidenced by Scott's erratic behaviour.

Isaac told you and he wasn't lying. And that dumb boy and I only learned control after training with you, Lou pointed out.

I hit us with lacrosse balls and got you beat up, Stiles replied incredulously.

Lou's mental snort was a thing of beauty. It got your point across quickly.

Despite himself, Stiles had to laugh at the memory.

I'm a bad, bad person for having enjoyed that so much, he confessed.

Lou sort of shrugged inside of Stiles. You were a good alpha to the dumb boy with the means you had.

I was also a petty little shit, Stiles sighed, his amusement slowly waning. Thanks for not holding that against me.

Why would I?, Lou asked, sounding genuinely surprised. A good memory is just one of the many qualities an alpha needs to possess. Forgetting who wronged the pack is a weakness. You're creative and smart, too. And magical. The strength you get from me. Perfect match, yes?

Mushy happiness bubbled up in Stiles and he grinned. Yeah, we're a perfect match, buddy.

A bit reassured that Peter wasn't actually planning on gaslighting his friends into absolute obedience, Stiles went and insinuated himself into the hug.

"Hey guys," he said cheerfully, smiling sharply at Peter's red-eyed stare. "You've got some impressive fangs on you."

"I probably look like a monster," Erica huffed out in a fairly heavy lisp. She let go of Peter and clung to Stiles like a limpet. "But you still love me, right, Batman?"

Stiles returned the embrace but then he pushed her away a bit and studied her harsh beta wolf face. "I do, Catwoman, no matter your looks. That being said, you do look rather monster-like right now, but more like the sexy sort. Think vampires in Buffy, or a Klingon hybrid or something." He raised a hand and slowly traced one of her eyebrow ridges. "I wonder where those eyebrows go when you guys shift."

"It's a mystery for the ages," Peter quipped. "Stop hogging her, it's unseemly to play favourites."

"What? Me and favourites?" Stiles asked, aghast. He wound an arm around Boyd's waist and squeezed the other teen close. "Boyd and I are tight, man! He's just not the overly demonstrative type." He faltered when all three werewolves stared at him. "Right?"

Boyd snorted and turned swiftly to pick up Stiles in an incredibly tight hug.

"Oh, you horrible kids," Mrs Reyes cried and rushed forward to throw her arms around her still shifted daughter. "You look fierce, honey!"

After that everyone did their level best to alleviate the trauma of the alpha roar with more hugs and lots of compliments. Stiles made coffee in the French Press Isaac had brought to the preserve and the Reyes dished up large pieces of cake for everyone.

An hour later Danny found them and lost no time taking a seat by Isaac and watching the footage of Erica and Boyd's first shift before asking to see the new wolves in action.

"You could try and run with them," Peter offered. "Lou might like the exercise."

"Yeah, he would," Stiles agreed. A little tug at one of his shoelaces had him look down.

"What?" Derek asked, immediately concerned.

Stiles stared at the tendril of mountain ash poking at his shoe. "Uh, seems like I've got other plans."

"Can't it wait?" Erica pouted. "I thought we could try running first. You're good at that even without Lou."

Stiles really wanted to join them on their first run but just as we opened his mouth to agree, there was another poke, sharper this time.

He deflated a little. "It seems to be important. I'm sorry."

"What's the matter?" Danny asked curiously.

"I made a deal with my mountain ash a while back," Stiles explained, "and I'm assuming that this is the mountain ash wanting to collect."

Danny frowned and looked down at Stiles' nearly completely black shoe. "Oh. Okay."

"Don't leave the ward's boundaries, sweetheart," Peter said, rubbing his warm hand along Stiles' neck. "We can run together later. It might be best to let them get it out of their systems first, anyway."

"I could keep you company," Danny offered. "Only if you want, of course."

"I want," Stiles said gratefully. "Thanks."

As Peter herded all the werewolves towards the overgrown part of the Hales' private portion of the preserve, Stiles followed where the mountain ash led him.

"It's literally leading you by the shoestrings," Danny said, amazed. "And you really aren't doing that with your mojo?"

Stiles shrugged. "Well, maybe but only in that I'm giving it enough mojo to express its agency? It's hard to explain."

"If you mean to say that you've given the stuff life I think I got it. What was that deal with the ash about?" Danny wanted to know. "When I was brought up to speed this wasn't mentioned in detail. Only that you sent out your mountain ash to scratch runes into the interrogation rooms of every police station in the U.S. to relieve your dad."

"The ash asked for trees," Stiles said, coming to a stop at the clearing Derek had cleaned up for him. "It's the payment for its service. More than fair, huh?" He crouched down, Danny following his example. "What do you have for me, guys?"

Like a convoy of ants, another thin black line of mountain ash approached, carrying with it an acorn, seven rowan berries, a chestnut, and last but not least something that looked a lot like a pine cone but wasn't.

"I've seen you do your thing, but this something else." Carefully, Danny scooped up the seedlings. "Now what?"

Stiles stood and gave a small grin. "Now I'll dig holes and plant those seeds where the ash wants them. Go ahead, men, show me where."

A spade rode up to the teens, easily rising as it reached Stiles, offering the handle.

"Incredible," Danny murmured. He held the seeds protectively as Stiles began to dig. Around him, the mountain ash was swarming in lazy circles.

At the one-foot mark, the mountain ash deemed the first hole deep enough. It crawled up Danny's body, plucked the acorn seed from his fingers, and carried it back down and over the dirt to the hole. There, it carefully laid the acorn inside and oozed back out, signalling for Stiles to fill the hole.

This was repeated three more times and each time the mountain ash almost lovingly planted the seed. After he'd filled the last hole, Stiles had sweated through his shirt and was short on breath, even with Lou's strength.

"Man, digging holes is hard work," Stiles complained, wiping his dripping forehead. "It's a wonder so many murderers still do this to vanish their kills."

Danny grimaced. "It looked like hard work, too. I'd have helped but …"

But the mountain ash hadn't allowed it.

"No worries," Stiles said, taking a couple of deep breaths. "A deal is a deal. Phew! Now I just have to water them and then it's up to the trees to grow."

"I don't know, somehow I don't think it's gonna be that easy," Danny cautioned. "I mean … the ash is bringing a knife, now."

"Say what?" Stiles whirled around and indeed, there was a knife wandering their way. It clearly came from the house, possibly from Derek's toolbox. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me. I'm not gonna cut myself on a dirty box cutter!"

The mountain ash on Stiles' body roused at that and all Stiles could do was watch in fascinated horror as Lou picked up the knife from the mountain ash on the floor and crawled all over it.

When he was done, the knife looked like new.

Nothing will harm you, Lou rumbled in Stiles' mind. We share my healing powers now, and you have your magic. Trust the magic and seal the deal.

Stiles' shoulders slumped. "It'll still hurt."

I'll take your pain, Lou promised and gave Stiles a nudge. Feed the seedlings now. They hunger for nourishment and they're eager for your touch.

"Stiles?" Danny asked, alarmed when Stiles hesitantly and stiffly held the tip of the box cutter to his left palm. "What are you doing?"

"Feeding the brood," Stiles ground out, beginning to sweat for a different reason. "Gawd, I can't look."

Danny's mouth twisted. "Look away. And do it quickly. I …" He pulled his wallet from his pocket and got out a healing card. "I've got a card.

"Lesson number one in magic," Stiles hissed and slid the blade of the knife over his palm before he could chicken out. There had been not a single bit of pain but there was quite a bit of blood welling from the cut. Relaxing a little although he felt a little grey around the edges, Stiles finished, "Everything comes at a price."

He let several drops of blood fall on each of the buried seeds, barely finishing before he lost the fight against the queasiness and unceremoniously sank to the ground.

End of chapter 81