It was already dark, everyone had had dinner. Stiles was in the baby's room, pacing back and forth with the little bundle in his arms. He wasn't crying, but he couldn't stay still. The others were downstairs, standing guard. The tension could be felt in the air, like a room full of gas waiting for a spark to explode. Several SUVs and minivans, all of them black, had traversed the state to Beacon Hills. The FBI had followed their trail, but, as Stiles thought, there was nothing they could do until they acted. They were working on the issue of arms trafficking, but that would take a while. He just hoped the FBI would be able to act in time because with all those agents there now they couldn't act on their own.

The sound of a gunshot vibrated in the silence of the night followed by the clash of glass breaking. The bullet made a hole in the sheriff's uniform and more bullets began to slice through the air. Stiles left the room and crouched against the wall in the hallway. In just an instant everything turned into chaos. Gun blasts echoed in and out of the mansion. The window panes were shattered, and the new walls were filled with holes. Voices could be heard amid all the chaos, but it was impossible to distinguish them under all the noise.

It lasted an eternity and only a few minutes. The noise of the shots gave way to the orders of the agents.

"Mr. Stilinski, you can come down now," the agent told him.

Stiles dropped the bundle in his arms to the ground and stood up. He saw the hole in the chest of the sheriff's uniform the agent was wearing. That could have been his dad, but thanks to Peter he wasn't. The two Hales along with his father and son were in a hotel, Stiles was the only one in the mansion along with three agents who were posing as them. In the dark of the night the hunters would not be able to recognize them, they expected them to trust when they saw Stiles upstairs with what looked like a baby, and they had.

"How did it go?" he asked the agent.

"Most have died, those who are still alive are being taken to the police station. When everything is settled, we'll take them to San Francisco."

"What if there are any left... watching around or something?"

"We've identified everyone who arrived in the cars, but there'll still be patrols around town to make sure we haven't missed any."

"Can I call the others to tell them?"

"We've already notified the sheriff. We'll accompany you to the hotel, and you'll be able to inform them in person. You can call them on the way if you want."

"Okay, let's go."

On the drive to the hotel in a car with two FBI agents, Stiles was not able to relax, he would not relax until he was with his family, everyone safe and sound. Upon entering the hotel, he found his father in the lobby talking to another agent. As soon as he saw him, Noah walked over to him and wrapped him in a hug, and Stiles hugged him back. A moment later, Noah grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him back a little so he could examine him.

"Are you okay? Did they...?"

"I'm fine, not a scratch," Stiles assured him. "How is Wilk?"

"Restless, worried about his dad. And Peter isn't much better. If I believed that the... could have heart attacks, I'd have taken him to the hospital by now. You better go up as soon as possible to calm him down," he said with a smile.

"Okay, be careful. We can't be sure there aren't any left out there."

"Don't worry about me, I'm going to be surrounded by FBI agents, I don't think they're that stupid as to attack us. A couple of agents will also stay here for security."

Stiles nodded and watched his father drive off in the same car he had arrived in. He went up to the floor where the others were and the door to the room was already open. Peter put an arm around him the moment he got closer and practically dragged him inside. The wolf buried his face in his neck and took a deep breath, and Stiles let him do it until he was satisfied. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Derek on the bed with Wilk in his arms. The little boy was restless and seemed about to cry.

"Peter, I think the baby wants to be with his father too," his nephew told him.

Peter pulled back reluctantly, though his hands didn't quite leave him. Stiles sat on the bed and accepted Wilk when Derek passed the baby to him. The little boy seemed to calm down as soon as Stiles settled him in his arms, not enough to sleep, but he wasn't about to cry anymore.

"We won't be able to go back for a few days, I don't think they left a single window intact."

"I'll take care of that tomorrow, don't worry," Derek said.

He stroked his shoulder not very discreetly to scent mark him and left the room. Peter sat down next to him and snuggled against him.

"Can you take a shower? You smell too much of those agents and guns."

Stiles rolled his eyes, but handed Wilk anyway and stood up.

"Only because thanks to your plan we're all alive."

"I wouldn't have done it if I'd known they'd use you as bait," he muttered grumpily.

"I would have, because you're all alive."

The Hales had good building contacts, they hadn't built the mansion so long ago, and Derek was an architect, although his only design had been the Hale Mansion itself, so it didn't take long for them to restore all the damage to the house. They returned as soon as possible and only then did Stiles feel like it was all over at last. He allowed himself to enjoy fatherhood without being locked up in a hotel or worried that a gang of serial killers would try to take his child from him. But in the back of his mind was that dark voice that told him they weren't entirely safe.

When Wilk fell asleep after his dinner, Stiles laid him down in the crib. The baby also seemed content, or at least calmer, being in a stable place. Peter entered the room, and approached him. The wolf put his arms around him and rested his chin on his shoulder. As soon as he tilted his head, Peter began to kiss and nibble on his neck. Stiles sighed, at last he could be relaxed with his partner as well.

"We have to make this place safer," he whispered so as not to wake the baby. Peter hummed an affirmative still kissing him. "We need an alpha to give stability to this town." Peter stopped without taking his lips from his skin. "One whose name inspires so much fear that people would rather take a detour than cross the town."

"I don't think Scott is very amused by that plan," he murmured, his lips brushing his ear.

"Maybe Scott should stop being alpha."

Peter grabbed his waist and turned him around. Stiles' face was serious and determined.

"Won't you regret it?" Peter asked him.

"I want my family to be safe, and he's a threat." He took his face with both hands and gave him a long, heartfelt kiss. He was almost out of breath when he pulled away. "I only trust you to protect us."

"As you wish."

They didn't talk about it again, but a few days later they sat down to dinner and Peter's chair was empty.

"Where's Peter?" Derek asked as he served dinner.

It couldn't exactly be called routine after just a couple of weeks, but Derek usually cooked both lunch and dinner and the three of them ate together.

"He's running errands," Stiles said calmly.

They began to eat with Peter's empty plate next to them, they would save his dinner for when he returned. They were finishing dinner when Wilk began to fidget in his hammock, it was time for his dinner. Stiles scooped him up as Derek cleared the table. Suddenly Derek dropped a glass, which exploded on the floor in a thousand pieces. Wilk was startled and began to cry. The wolf's face was confused, and he roared. Wilk cried harder. Stiles sighed and glared at Derek. The wolf bowed his head a little embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, something has happened to Scott." It was normal that he didn't know exactly what, his bond with the alpha was so thin that he would hardly notice it if he disappeared.

"Mm... You should clean that up, I don't want to step on a crystal.

Derek stared at him confused for a moment, but he nodded and began to pick up the little glass shards.

Peter wouldn't be back for a few hours, he had things to take care of, so Stiles put the little one to bed when he finished dinner and sat in the rocking chair next to the crib. He heard Derek go into his own room and the house fell silent. Stiles lit a small lamp, the moon was barely visible in the sky, just a thin line in the shape of a C, and only darkness was visible through the window. He waited with some anticipation and a little bit of concern. He had chosen the right night, where the wolf would have less powers, and the mind would have the upper hand, but still he couldn't help but worry about his partner.

A flash of red caught his eye, and when he looked up he saw the two blazing flames in the darkness of the hall, the barely recognizable silhouette of a body. He was not afraid. The wolf entered the room slowly with calculated, controlled steps. His eyes went to the crib and back to Stiles. Stiles nodded. Peter walked over to the crib, his appearance impeccable and carefully neutral. He leaned over the little boy and ran a hand down his body as he rubbed his nose and cheek over his head. Once he had marked his little one, he turned his attention back to his mate. Stiles hadn't moved from the rocking chair, he was just waiting for his wolf.

Peter knelt in front of him, and his eyes seemed to glow brighter. Stiles tilted his head to the side and a growl vibrated deep in the wolf's chest. He buried his face in his neck and rubbed against him almost desperately.

"My alpha," he sighed and the growl grew louder. "Mark me." It was both a request and a concession.

Stiles grabbed onto his shoulders and Peter lifted him up into his arms. Now they were safe, now they were protected, now he could enjoy his life as Peter's partner, as a deputy sheriff and as a father. Now he could aspire to be happy.