John needed a drink.

However, his last one had mostly ended up on the floor, his hand was still sticky with the remains, and he doubted that it was a good idea to leave his guests unsupervised even for the moment it would take to get the bottle from the kitchen.

Agnes was sitting to his right, Stiles and Derek across from him, soaking the couch, and the tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife.

At least Stiles and Derek knew what was going on but Agnes was still trying to work out what this was all about and how the others fit in. It was not helping that Stiles was glaring at her as if she'd been the one responsible for his death.

"You're what those hunters are after," Agnes concluded. "Did you kill those teenagers from Oregon?"

Derek held her gaze and answered with a steady: "Yes."

It was a facade, John knew that. He'd seen Derek's other side. He knew that Derek felt guilty and that he didn't want to kill again. Still, he'd been ready to kill Agnes just a minute ago. If for John's benefit or Stiles' he didn't know but John knew without a doubt that Agnes would be dead right now if Stiles had told Derek to kill her.

"Did the Nemeton draw you in?" She asked. "You come here and start killing people? And you're okay with that?" The last bit was directed at John. "You're a deputy, you're supposed to prevent murders not help to cover them up. Or have you crawled that deep into the bottle that you don't care any longer?"

That hurt, mostly because she wasn't wrong. John rubbed his hand, it still smelled of alcohol.

"Hey!" Stiles yelled. "John is actively trying to prevent more deaths. And just FYI, Derek has been here for ages. He didn't just come here and started killing. He's been here since before your pack came here. If you have to ask who he is he's been low-key long enough for your pack to forget about him. Don't you dare and make Derek look like he's a mindless killing machine. I bet you've killed more people than Derek has over the last century."

Agnes narrowed her eyes on Stiles as if she'd just remembered that he was here as well.

"You're not like him." She observed, conveniently glossing over his accusation of murder. "You're both soaking wet but you're not oozing water like him. You look healthier too, more alive." She studied him a moment longer with her head slightly tilted to the side, the dog tilt as Stiles had called it. She was taking in Stiles with more than just her eyes.

"Technically, I'm dead," Stiles said in a cold voice, meeting her gaze square on. "I drowned in that lake. Derek kept me."

If that statement caught her by surprise she didn't show it.

"I see," Agnes said. "Have you kept the other teenagers as well?"

"No, Stiles is the only one I kept," Derek answered.

"Okay, cliff-notes," Stiles interrupted before Agnes could form the next question. "Derek has been here before you. When the pack arrived here, Derek and the alpha at that time came to a truce. Derek allowed them to stay and they agreed to keep to their respective sides of the town. I think you should enforce that rule more firmly again, just to make sure. We don't want you on our side of the town." Stiles almost yelled the last part and smacked his hand in Derek's chest when he put his whole body into his little speech.

"I have to keep my pack safe," Agnes said but for the first time, she dared to relax. She leaned back into her chair and John got the feeling that she was no longer a heartbeat from slashing their throats with her claws. "I need to know what's going on in Beacon Hills."

"Same here," John spoke up. "Stiles told me about the pack of werewolves living in Beacon Hills but aside from some basics, I don't know anything about you. My partner is a werewolf, don't expect me to just blindly roll with that."

"I came to a truce with your ancestor," Derek said, more formally now. "I'm willing to do the same with you."

John expected long negotiations for this but in the end, they came to an agreement rather quickly.

Basically, it came down to the fact that Agnes wanted to know everything about Derek and she didn't want John to get his answers about werewolves from the hunters.

Derek was willing to answer all of Agnes' questions and in return, she would allow Mark to do the same with John's questions about werewolves. Mark had already kind of offered and John felt more comfortable asking him than Agnes. He kind of liked the tiny woman but she was intimidating.

They would all meet at the lake tomorrow. It was remote so there wouldn't be anybody to listen in on them and by doing both conversations at the same time they prevented that one party got all the information and then refused to return the favor.

As the only one the hunters were not likely to kill on sight, John would keep an eye on Sam and Dean and they all would do their best to keep people from the lake.

They even shook hands to seal the deal.

"Can you even make decisions like this on your own?" Stiles asked when Agnes shook his hand. "Don't you have to at least inform your alpha about this?"

"I'm the left hand," Agnes reminded him with a hint of teeth in her smile. "It's part of my job to keep secrets from the pack, even from the alpha. No need to bother Greg with a threat I've already dealt with. As for now, I consider you dealt with." She looked at Derek. "If it turns out that I'm wrong, I'll have to inform him, though."

Derek didn't even say anything to that, he just stood there with his eyes hidden in the shadows of his eyebrows so, after an awkward moment, Agnes shrugged and turned to leave.

"See you tomorrow." With that, she walked out of the door, her high ponytail bouncing with every step.

"Tell me when she's gone," Stiles said to Derek and then he waited for Derek to confirm that she had truly left before he dropped back into the couch. It made a squishing noise. Stiles wasn't dripping wet any longer but his clothes were still damp and by now the couch was soaked with the water Derek was leaving behind everywhere. He was already standing in a puddle again.

"Do you want to stay?" Derek asked.

Stiles thought about it for a long moment.

"I'm freezing." He grabbed the front of his hoodie and drew the wet fabric from his chest. "Is it okay if I take a shower?"

"Sure," John agreed easily. "Go ahead, I'll get you something to wear."

By now he must be really uncomfortable because Stiles hurried up the stairs, unzipping his hoodie on the way.

"I didn't get a chance to thank you earlier." John turned to Derek while upstairs the bathroom door slammed shut. "I doubt she wanted to kill me but hell, it did feel like it."

Agnes had come here to get answers. John didn't want to know how his night would have turned out if Stiles and Derek hadn't shown up. Agnes would have left with those answers, he did not doubt that.

"Thank you."

Derek moved his head in the slightest indication of a nod.

"She was hurting you," Derek said. "I don't want you to get hurt."

It sounded a lot as if Derek cared about him. John's chest tightened with the realization that he had a friend in Derek.

"I'll leave now," Derek announced. "Can you keep an eye on Stiles?"

"Any time," John assured him. Derek didn't have to say it, they both knew that dealing with Agnes had rattled Stiles.

Once he was alone, John took a deep breath before he went to get Stiles something to wear.

Stiles was still in the shower by the time John had changed into civil clothes and it looked like he intended to stay in there for a while longer. Long enough for John to slowly sip a fresh drink. He got comfortable in Claudia's chair, her cardigan over one knee, and the glass loosely in his hand.

He should probably make a list of questions he wanted to ask Mark tomorrow, maybe Stiles could help with that, but at the moment he was content with just letting his mind drift.

When he swallowed, he could still feel Agnes' hand around his throat and her claws digging into his skin. She hadn't broken the skin but there were already bruises blossoming under his skin. He just hoped that they wouldn't be too obvious in the morning. Maybe he could pretend they were hickeys.

John chuckled into his glass and knocked back the last swallow. Blindly he reached for the bottle but almost dropped his glass when Stiles suddenly spoke up next to him.

"Can I have one too?" He asked quietly. He stood there with slumped shoulders, head hanging, and his fingers twitching.

It was on the tip of John's tongue to tell him that alcohol was not the solution but he wasn't that much of a hypocrite.

"Glasses are over there." John pointed at a cabinet. "Are you hungry? We should get something solid into our stomachs as well."

Stiles just nodded but only when he had his second drink and his hollow eyes had become a bit glossy, he reached for the takeout menus.

"Are you okay?" John asked. Stiles did not look okay, he looked like he'd seen a ghost. Or a werewolf, John corrected himself. Stiles hadn't interacted with the pack in quite a while and Agnes was not just your average werewolf. She was second in the hierarchy with only the alpha above her but John had the suspicion that she was the most dangerous one of the pack.

John remembered Stiles' night terror when he'd told him what the pack had done to him. If Stiles was even able to sleep tonight, John wouldn't be surprised if he had nightmares again. Maybe he should have left with Derek. John still didn't know what being with Derek was like but Stiles made it sound peaceful. There were no nightmares at the bottom of the lake.

Usually, Stiles talked. A lot. John had expected him to go over their encounter with Agnes over and over again, trying to find the reasoning behind every word, every expression of her but today Stiles kept quiet.

He poked his food more than he ate it and he seemed determined to get drunk today. That had been John's plan for the evening but after Stiles' third drink, he put the bottle away. The irony of that wasn't lost on him but he was not in the mood to laugh about it.

Stiles turned on the TV and to keep his hands busy he got out the box of separation puzzles they had gotten at the thrift store the other day.

The alcohol was taking its toll on Stiles, soon the puzzle in his hand didn't come apart as smoothly as before and around nine Stiles fell asleep.

John knew that Derek wouldn't be back to collect Stiles until at least the early morning so he coaxed Stiles into going upstairs and stretching out in a real bed. Half asleep Stiles let him tuck him in and with a sigh, he snuggled deeper under the covers.

John studied him for a moment, a fond smile playing on his lips. He and Claudia had talked about children and they both had wanted one or two but then she'd fallen ill and a part of John was glad that they didn't have children. He doubted that he would have been a good father.

Then fate had thrown Stiles at him.

"Night, son." John gently stroked Stiles' hair. He left the door open a crack just in case Stiles had a nightmare and with a warm feeling in his chest, he went downstairs. His mind was still swirling, he wasn't ready to go to sleep just yet but John didn't get the bottle back out tonight.