He was rocking the stroller, where Wilk slept since he was small enough to be comfortable there, having already fed him when Peter jumped out of bed.
"Take Wilk and get ready."
Stiles acted without question because that was Peter's voice when there was danger. He placed Wilk in the carrier and crouched by the window. He was able to immediately identify a black SUV that hadn't been there when they'd returned from the walk that morning.
"Peter?" The wolf stood by the door with an offensive pose.
"Hunters, two." It was not difficult to recognize them, first by the way they walked and then by the smell of weapons and wolfsbane.
"Take Wilk," Stiles asked, coming back to him.
"What? St-."
"Take Wilk and jump out the window," he ordered, placing the baby carrier on him. "If they're hunters, they won't hesitate to kill you. I have more opportunities and only you can escape with Wilk. We'll meet in the park, okay?"
Stiles gave him a quick kiss and pushed him toward the window.
"Kill them if you have to," Peter told him before jumping out with Wilk tied to him.
Stiles picked up his suitcase and pulled the handle until the two bars were fully removed by pressing a button on the base. He removed the plastic grip and the two bars became two expandable steel batons. He had learned to use them with his training to become a deputy, he had dedicated himself especially to them since they were more practical than a baseball bat and more discreet than a gun, and it was the only weapon they had been able to sneak into the airport. They didn't expect to face anyone, but Peter was the kind of person who was always ready for the worst.
He waited by the door, his back pressed against the wall. The hunters were quiet, at least to his ears, but then one tried to kick the door open and failed (it's not as easy to knock down a door with just physical force as they make it out to be in the movies). When he was about to kick it again, Stiles opened the door and the guy fell forward with the momentum. Stiles took advantage of the surprise effect to hit his partner in the hallway with one baton and then the other, knocking him unconscious against the wall. Then, Stiles turned on his heel to knock the gun out of the first hunter's hand with another blow before he could point it at him. He hit him across the face, leaving him stunned, and grabbed the gun. He leaned with one knee on his back and pressed the barrel of the gun against his temple.
"Talk."
"Monsters' bitch," he spat.
Stiles struck him again with the baton in the face and the hunter grunted as a long cut ripped open and bled across his face.
"Not exactly what I meant. Who are you and what are you doing here?"
"Did you think you could take the heir of a powerful hunter family to a filthy pack of mongrels?"
"What the hell are you talking about?" he asked even more confused.
The hunter gave a mocking laugh.
"You didn't know? You guys are more stupid than I thought," he groaned when Stiles hit him again, not hard enough to knock him unconscious because he had to know more. The hunter continued reluctantly. "The child is the great-nephew of the leader of the Duncan family."
"Shit. I guess Aurora's mother is Robert Duncan's sister, right?"
Of course he knew who the Duncans were, he had long ago made sure to know all the hunting families in North America and their leaders. But the Duncans were a family that operated mostly in the northern part of the country and southern Canada so he hadn't studied them thoroughly. Given the way the Argents and other families struggled to keep their surname, it didn't occur to him that the leader's sister would change hers upon marrying.
"Listen to me well, tell your boss this: he is my son, and I am not going to give him to any hunter. I'll kill anyone who comes after us. Don't forget it with the blow." He hit him again with the baton and he lost consciousness.
He quickly collected the baby's things and other important things like the computer and cell phones and left everything else behind, the clothes were replaceable. He left the hotel with a suitcase, the car seat and the stroller. He made his way to the park they frequented and Peter appeared from a narrow street making sure Stiles saw him before approaching so as not to scare him.
"We're going, we'll take a taxi to the airport. I'll explain everything later."
"Okay," agreed the wolf.
They got into the first taxi willing to take them to the Minneapolis Airport (Peter paid a generous fee for it) and stopped only once on the way to change Wilk's diaper. They passed the security control as soon as they got to the airport, they would be safer on the other side. They were going to have to take a night flight, it was the first flight to California. It wasn't going to be very pleasant with Wilk since it would interrupt his sleep hours, but if someone doesn't want to fly with a crying child, then don't fly.
"Now, what happened?" Peter asked when they were finally able to sit in some chairs a little away from the rest of the people walking through the airport.
"Aurora turns out to be Robert Duncan's niece."
He could hear Peter breathe in hard. He knew the werewolf would not show any signs of alert externally, let alone lose control of his wolf, but Stiles could see his level of alertness increase even more.
"I hope you forget about the idea of shared custody."
"No one in that family is going to lay a single finger on him. I highly doubt that Aurora even knows what her family does, but remember what happened to Allison when her aunt and grandfather brainwashed her. I'm not risking it, much less when that hunter called him 'heir'."
Peter put an arm around his shoulders and caressed the cheeks of a sleeping Wilk.
"He'll be fine, you both will be," he assured him. "I'll kill anyone who tries to get close to you."
"We're going to have a whole f-..." he looked down at the baby," damn hunter family behind us. I don't know how we're going to survive this."
"We survived when grandpa Argent arrived with his men."
"And I still don't know how. Although with these guys it'll be different. They consider that we've stolen the baby from them, they'll never rest easy letting someone of their blood grow with wolves, and I don't think that next time they'll send only two hunters. They have a clear objective, they're not going to beat around the bush like the Argent."
"Trust me, trust Derek and your father and everyone who is willing to protect you. This little guy not only has the protection of the pack, but of an entire sheriff's department as well. Beacon Hills will be a fort for him."
"Fuck, I hope so," he sighed.
"Language."
Stiles stuck his tongue out at him just for being childish.
They used the time until the flight to inform Derek and Noah of what had happened. The sheriff would ask all patrols to be on the lookout for any strange cars. No one new could come into town without them knowing it.
The flight was calmer than he expected. Wilk seemed to like the rumble in Peter's chest as he growled at a barely audible level (he purred. That was purring no matter how much Peter denied it), and even if he didn't get to sleep, he was calm.
Derek went to meet them at the airport, and when he saw the baby he looked like he had seen a ghost.
"Derek?" Stiles called him confused.
"He's ten days old, he's not going to jump on you and suck your blood," Peter said rolling his eyes.
"Do you want to hold him?" Stiles suggested.
His body tensed like he was ready to be beaten up, and he shook his head furiously like a cartoon.
"How are you supposed to babysit like this?" Stiles gave him a shoulder nudge as he passed him with the stroller, though it was like pushing a brick wall.
Another two hours' drive and they were back at Hale Mansion at last. Stiles laid Wilk down in his crib, thankful that he was too exhausted to stay awake. He took his gun out of the safe in Peter's room and slipped it into the holster on his hip. He went downstairs to the kitchen and straight for the waiting cup of coffee. Morning light streamed through the windows. The sheriff was in the kitchen and there were four deputies along the perimeter surrounding the mansion.
"What's the plan?" Noah asked.
"Not to let them take Wilk away," Stiles replied. He let Peter refill his cup and took another sip.
"That's not a plan, sweetheart, it's a goal," Peter said as he took his pain with a hand on the back of his neck, so many hours traveling took their toll.
"Kill everyone who tries."
"That's better."
Noah pressed the bridge of his nose with his fingers. He preferred to ignore that, although he wouldn't hesitate to shoot if someone tried to lay hands on his grandson.
"You should rest while there's still time," Noah suggested. "I don't think they come by plane, they couldn't carry weapons, and by car it'll still take about fifteen hours even if they don't stop on the way.
"I don't think I can sleep, I'm too... you know, waiting for an attack at any moment."
"On alert," Peter provided, "but with your mind on alert all the time it'll stop working properly. Your father is right, we should go to sleep, both of us."
Stiles sighed. It was true that he was tired and could not think clearly. He wanted to at least be able to focus his sight if he had to shoot someone. He got up from the stool and leaned against Peter. At that moment the wolf growled, and he could feel it in his chest.
"Did you call Scott?" Peter asked.
"The pack has to know, they have to be on alert with a group of hunters in town."
Noah spoke on the walkie with his deputies to tell them to let Scott pass. Soon Stiles heard his motorcycle and walked to the door. Scott came in with a frown looking around.
"Are you back already? What's up?" he asked. Scott raised his head and looked up at the ceiling as if he could see through it. "The baby is-?"
"Yes, he's sleeping," Stiles interrupted him. He wanted to finish as soon as possible because now that he was aware of it the fatigue was growing. "Listen, it turns out the mother's family are hunters, and they've found out that I bring him to a pack. They want to take him back, and it looks like they're coming in a horde for him. My dad's deputies are already aware, but you have to tell the-."
"Isn't it better if they take him with them?" Scott asked, looking at him with his head tilted.
"What?" Stiles looked at him confused, it took a moment for his tired brain to understand it.
"They want to have the child, then let them take him away, it'd be the best for-."
The barrel of the gun thudded against Scott's forehead, followed by the click of the safety being removed and the hammer being cocked. Scott backed away until his back hit the wall and Stiles followed him without taking the gun away from his forehead.
"I'm going to make it clear. My son is a thousand times more important to me than your life. If they tell me that in order for them to leave us alone I have to cut your throat and dismember you in front of them, I'll do so without hesitation. And if you ever insinuate in any way that I get rid of my son, that I won't be a good father or any of your shit, I'll do it too just for the fun of it. Understood?"
Scott wanted to nod and his head was shaking, but he couldn't do it with the barrel pressing against his forehead and the wall behind him so he had to speak.
"Y-yes," he answered.
"Good. Don't come back here unless we tell you."
Stiles took a step back and lowered the gun a little without taking his aim off him. He made a small motion with the gun indicating the door, and Scott ran off. He only put the gun away when he heard his motorcycle driving away. Peter walked over to him and put an arm around his shoulders.
"Let's go to bed, we'll see if to sleep or for something else."
Stiles rolled his eyes, but obediently followed. As soon as he lay down on the bed, dressed and all, he fell asleep.
The room was dark, but a glance at the clock on the bedside let him know it was a little after noon. He turned and cuddled against the wolf. Peter was sitting against the headboard with the laptop on his lap and the cell phone in his hand. For a moment it was an ordinary day, a slow morning with his partner in bed. Then everything came to him suddenly.
"Wilk!" He sat bolt upright, but Peter put an arm around him to keep him from jumping off the bed.
"He's okay, Derek is with him. Everything is quiet."
"Quiet isn't always good," but he sighed and leaned against Peter. "And my dad?"
"At the station, working. Everyone is on alert, there's even a patrol at each entrance to the town. Your father has even called some of his colleagues from other counties, we will detect them as soon as they enter the state."
"That won't be enough." He rubbed his face with both hands to shake off the remnants of sleep. "To know that they are arriving is not enough, we need a plan for when they're here."
"It's already underway."
Stiles turned to him and looked at him with a confused expression.
"Explain."
"I just thought we don't have to do this on our own. There's nothing supernatural or illegal on our part. We have a baby and some guys with no rights over him and heavily armed come from another state to take him away from us."
"You called the FBI?!"
Peter smiled and ran a hand through his tousled hair.
"That precious brain of yours is back."
"Do you think they'll help us?"
"The FBI works in Amber Alert cases even if they don't involve more than one state. When I explained the situation to one of my contacts-."
"Your contact? You have a contact in the FBI?" he cut him off.
"He said a unit would be on the way immediately," he continued as if he hadn't been interrupted. "Now they should be on their way to the sheriff station, where the sheriff and grandfather of the baby, to make matters worse, will give them all the details."
"When they see the FBI, they'll stand down and wait, and if they don't act, the FBI won't be able to do anything to them."
"I'm sure they know, but even if they can't arrest them for the kidnapping attempt, they can always caught them for arms trafficking."
Stiles' smile spread from ear to ear.
"All hunters are involved in arms trafficking. A full-fledged Al Capone arrest." He took Peter's face with both hands and gave him a long, deep kiss.
"I knew you'd appreciate it," he answered a little out of breath.