Hey guys, this took forever and I'm so sorry! Your lovely comments really helped me through a difficult time. Thank you so much for your amazing loyalty and willingness to stay in touch. I appreciate it more than I can say. This chapter is not the most action-laden thing I've ever written, but it's proof of life so that's something, I hope. ?

Have a great holiday and please, please stay safe!

Chapter 91

The evening devolved into a huge free for all because everyone had an opinion on the protective bind rune Stiles worked to create. Unsurprisingly, Erica and Lydia were among the most vicious when it came to the punitive aspect of the rune, but the others weren't all that far behind.

"I like the karma thing," John said after Erica had demanded physical displacement to Canada for douchebags if the vast plains of Fireland were out of the question. "There's justice in that and Stiles did tell you lot that a certain kind of balance has to be maintained."

Stiles pointed at him while continuing to chew on his pen as he stared at his runes. "Perfectly summed up, daddio. The karma thing will happen, though we absolutely need to take out the 'it only works when it happens to us first' aspect because nope, we do not want to suffer physical or mental pain before a scumbag gets what's coming to him. I mean, that's literally the whole point of creating this protection."

"And we thank you for this," Lydia said snippily. "Now can we please agree on a first draft and try it out? I'd like to go to bed at some point tonight, and I'd like to do it while feeling safe."

Erica raised her hand. "Seconded."

"Thirded," Boyd added dryly.

"Oh my god, fine," Stiles whined. "But if you explode, that's on you guys."

"Explode," Derek repeated flatly.

"Explode," Stiles reiterated and mimed his head exploding. "This is me, Tony Stark-ing some kind of Extremis formula. This stuff is volatile, I'm not even kidding."

"Tony Stark would've already been done," Jackson said obnoxiously. He leaned forward and presented his bare forearm. "Paint it on, I've got to drive Lydia and Danny home."

Stiles narrowed his eyes at Jackson. "Alright."

Jackson smirked smugly, only to regret it a minute later when Stiles got out the acrylic paint pen with the hot pink metallic colour and began to paint the freshly finished, intricate bind rune on Jackson's pale skin.

"I'll kill you," the boy hissed.

"No, you won't," Stiles retorted with a shit-eating grin. Around the table, several of their friends snorted with laughter. "And even if you did, you wouldn't live long enough to regret it. But, you can try, I guess."

Derek went next and received a calming forest green rune on the inside of his forearm which also shimmered with a metallic sheen. Then came Isaac, Erica, Boyd, Danny, Lydia, and Stiles' dad. With every drawing, Stiles got more secure and with their shimmering colours, the rune even looked pretty on his friends.

Half an hour later, everyone but Peter had left, Derek opting to spend time with Isaac tonight at the boy's prompting.

"He won't stay long," Stiles promised his father. "I'd just like to talk to him for a moment without the others listening in."

"As long as talking isn't a euphemism for other things, I'll allow it," John replied. He patted Stiles' shoulder. "Don't stay up too long, kid, you're still looking peaked."

"Thanks, dad." Once the sheriff was gone, Stiles shyly took Peter's hand and tugged him from the kitchen. "Come on. It's a disaster zone in here, I need a change of scenery."

"Wherever you lead, I'll follow," Peter quipped, managing to sound playful and serious all at once. "What's the matter, sweetheart?"

Stiles ushered the werewolf into his room and closed the door. Then he wiped his suddenly sweaty hands on his trouser legs. "So, you and Derek mentioned here and there that you're sort of magic, right?"

"For a werewolf, yes," Peter confirmed, raising an eyebrow. "Why?"

"I just …" Stiles bit his lip and lifted his shoulders in an uncertain shrug. "It hit me today that I've never really asked you to do stuff with me and now that's all I can think about. I should've asked you, shouldn't I have?"

Concerned, Peter stepped a little closer and carefully cupped Stiles' neck and jaw with his warm hands. "I'm neither hurt nor insulted by this, Stiles."

"I'd be, in your place," Stiles confessed and licked his suddenly dry lips. Within him, Lou was whining mournfully. "But I want to say that I didn't mean to not ask you or anything. Things were mostly just happening so fast and you never really said one way or another. It sort of slipped my mind."

"That's the thing," Peter rumbled soothingly. "I wanted it to slip your mind."

"What?" Stiles asked.

"I kept out of it by design," Peter said patiently.

"Why?" Stiles asked, hating himself for the small hitch in his voice. "Because it's too intimate?"

Peter leaned in and nuzzled Stiles' hot cheek. "That's one of the reasons, yes. It's alright in a group setting when it's the pack helping you with your work. It's not alright when it's just the two of us. Not when we're trying to do the right thing."

"That bad?" Stiles whispered, leaning into the featherlight caresses. He couldn't believe what Peter's words implied … that the werewolf was as gone on Stiles as Stiles was on him.

"It'd be impossible to resist if we allowed our magic to mingle in such a way without the pack present to keep us grounded," Peter murmured. He tucked his face into Stiles' shoulder bend and licked a warm stripe up to his ear. "One day, when nothing is holding us back, I'll prove it to you."

Weak-kneed, Stiles held on to Peter's sturdy shoulders. "I'll definitely hold you to that. Jesus."

Peter chuckled and kissed his way up to Stiles' mouth for a minute of very satisfying snogging.

A little breathless, Stiles then argued, "I get it, even if it sucks, okay, but we still could've hit the books together or done the brainstorm thing. If you're magic too, I might've come up with shit sooner, saved us some grief."

"Ah." Sighing, Peter placed a long kiss on Stiles' forehead. "I really couldn't have. You're not only magical in a different way than I am, you're magic, sweetheart. Apart from a few very scary Council members, I've never seen the like and that's why I couldn't possibly teach you without actually hurting your development. All I felt I could do was give you books and tools and just let you find your own way for now. Limiting you - any of you - just isn't an option."

Stiles wanted to be mad about it for Peter's sake, but the man's words rang true in a way that he very rarely experienced.

Alpha is right. Your magic makes wonders , Lou told him. Makes new life - makes us. Alpha can't teach wonders. You can only explore and discover.

"Lou agrees, doesn't he?" Peter asked. At Stiles nod, he smiled faintly. "Good. You need to be aware that you're subject to different rules than the rest of us. You're also different from every other magic user, so do me the favour of never taking anything someone might tell you as gospel. They'd be lying and liars rarely have your best interests at heart."

Stiles frowned. "How do you mean I'm different from every other magic user? Like, are we all different from each other, or am I somehow a freak of nature?"

"The former," Peter replied calmly. "Magic is intimate, a part of us, for some more than others, and so its expression must be as individual as our characters. There are ritualised forms of magic, of course, and they work for a wide variety of magic users, but those were invented to achieve consistent results in a heterogeneous group of magicals. Much like we now have standardised lesson plans and testing in our schools for maximum comparability within the student population."

"I see. So it might be useful to know some of the standardized stuff, but since I'm apparently made of magic I should go at my own pace and just continue as I've begun," Stiles summarized.

"Very eloquently put," Peter murmured. "Are we good? Do you need more books?"

"We're good," Stiles said. "But I could use another hug, and money for a shit ton of secure server space because we need somewhere to put our research. Isaac's serious about his comic and at one point we'll want to put up our own web store."

"Leave it to Danny and myself, we'll take care of it. Now for that hug ..." Peter drew Stiles close and engulfed him with his body.

Stiles shuddered as the werewolf's arms closed around him and warmth gently drifted over his skin. In reply, Lou spread from Stiles' skin to Peter's, joining the hug with a soft glimmer of magic.

"It should weird me out that you're essentially two beings when we do this," Peter rumbled into Stiles' neck, causing goosebumps to rise, "but all I feel is gratitude. You fit so well together."

"Yeah, I'm still not clear on how this works," Stiles returned. "Only that it does. I guess the Venom comics did get that part right."

"It's not the only part." Peter loosened his hold and took Stiles' hand. "Lou is able to form armour, for lack of a better word, and if you two put your mind to it, I'm sure you'd find a way to carry some wolfsbane and mistletoe with you without harming him."

"You mean, I could really become Venom?" Stiles asked, mouth dropping open. "I was joking!"

Peter shrugged. "I know, but now I'm not. Whatever helps build our reputation is a good thing while we're still vulnerable. Keeping you anonymous, at least for a while, will only help. Venom is as good a moniker as any other."

"Especially since Jackson seems to be stuck with Skalyboy for now," Stiles agreed. He blew out a breath. "It's just so crazy, you know? Feels like I went from zero to a hundred in three seconds flat, magic-wise. And the pack. I mean, what even happened? This time last year, I was a complete loser. And now ..."

"Now we're rich with friends and family," Peter whispered. He gently tapped Stiles' mouth with his finger. "We found a place to belong. I won't give it - or anyone of you - up without a fight. Not even Lydia."

Stiles sucked in a shaky breath. "Me neither." He raised hot eyes to Peter's. "This pack is a forever thing, right? Because I can't … I can't do less."

Peter cupped Stiles' face and kissed him hungrily. There were sharp teeth and a slight, sizzling tang of blood, and under Stiles' suddenly clawed fingers warm wetness welled up, that same sizzling sensation racing over his skin.

It should've been disgusting, but all Stiles could feel was this intense sense of belonging, sealed with the strongest vow there was.

With their blood and their magic.

"We'll work hard for it," Peter breathed once their hunger for each other was sated a little. His claws pricked Stiles' cheeks and scalp and his eyes were glowing brightly, almost violently. "You're mine and I'm yours. Whatever dares come between us, we'll work it out."

"Yeah," Stiles murmured, dazed. "We'll work everything out."

oOo

The following days were spent refining the cleansing ritual for Derek and brainstorming strategies for the beginning of the new school year. Scott's absence there made things easier but there was the unresolved matter of Julia Baccari.

Stiles' father had, of course, tried to get dirt on "Jennifer Blake" through official channels, unfortunately without success. Whatever magic she'd wrought to create her background was solid even under close mundane inspection. Coupled with her game of hide and seek with the pack, it was impossible for them to quietly do away with her and that meant that she eventually would have access to the High School … and the pack.

"Let's face it, we tried everything to find her and failed," Isaac told the assembled junior pack members on Friday, their last free weekday before school would start again. "That bitch will probably stroll into our school, all innocent-like, and try to pick us off one by one."

"That's what I would do, if I were her," Lydia agreed as she inspected one of her freshly filed nails.

"I still say we should simply stay home," Erica said. "Home-schooling is a thing, after all. My parents would allow it in a heartbeat."

Stiles handed her a stack of bespelled healing cards to sort into their box and sighed. "I know that a lot of those people are douchebags, but we can't just leave them to the dark bitch's not so tender mercies."

"Yeah, we've been over it," Boyd agreed. He gave Erica a look. "Those guys are helpless. We swore to protect the territory and its inhabitants when we joined the pack. That includes the scum of society."

Erica huffed. "Surely society won't notice if one or two or a dozen of the worst idiots vanish before we get Her Bitchiness."

"Beacon Hills does seem to labour under Hellmouth-induced forgetfulness a lot of the time, but so many missing teenagers might take it a step too far," Danny replied with an understanding smile. "Besides, you've got me if you want to ruin someone's life. My offer still stands, Erica. We don't have to let Connor and his asshole friends get away with anything if we don't want to."

"And I love you for it," she returned gratefully. "They had to do community work all summer, though, so let's see how everyone behaves and go from there. We've got more important things to do at the moment, after all."

"Solid plan," Stiles said. He accepted more freshly stamped healing cards from Jackson for treatment with his magic. A short glance into slightly yellow-ish tinged eyes revealed that Scalyboy was actively taking part in their togetherness. "Thanks, dude."

Jackson's lips curled in a satisfied little grin, which caused Boyd to raise an eyebrow in surprise.

Stiles shook his head minutely to discourage the teen from saying something and changed the topic. "Anyway, let's concentrate on Derek for the moment. Tomorrow at seven by the lake still okay for everyone?"

His friends all agreed, Erica reminding them that she, Boyd, and Isaac would bring breakfast foods to celebrate afterwards. The mood turned a little festive then, with everyone calling out their favourites for some last-minute consideration.

Stiles left them to it and simply hooked his foot around Derek's ankle, who was quietly stamping his way through a huge stack of Lucky Dust cards by his other side. There wasn't anything he could say to Derek that his beta didn't already know and the bond between them told him that Derek had finally relaxed into a certain kind of mellow contentment besides.

Stiles wanted him to enjoy it for as long as possible before shit got real again and they had to engage in yet another fight. He hoped that cuddling the werewolf like a teddy bear through the night would help with that.

oOo

Derek woke Stiles at six and patiently dogged his steps to make sure that Stiles was actually making it through his morning routine without fatal injury.

When Stiles entered the kitchen for a bite to eat and a small cup of coffee, he noticed a neatly packed bag standing by the table.

"What's this?" he wondered as he accepted Derek's quickly made roasted walnut ciabatta with serrano ham and olive spread.

"Lydia was of the opinion that you might need some art supplies besides the things you said you'd need for the ritual. I packed them this morning while you were in the shower," Derek said. He leaned against the counter and slowly sipped his coffee. "I agree with her in that we can hardly be too prepared right now."

"It's not a bad idea," Stiles admitted. "Maybe we'll just keep it as a go-bag and also pack more for everyone's cars."

"Lydia and Isaac are on it," Derek assured him. "I had my doubts but Lydia truly is a master at organising. The shop is already more efficient and the new inventory does a great job in keeping our production on track. She also has a weather eye on our customers and the revenue."

"Anything of interest in that area?" Stiles asked. "Anything suspicious going on?"

Derek huffed. "Everyone's under suspicion. Danny's working on verifying their identity. So far, more than half of them are trying to fly under the radar. Danny thinks that most of those people are simply trying to stay out of the hunters' way, but four individuals appear especially suspicious. He didn't go into detail yet but it seems there might be genuinely fake identities and shell corporations involved."

Stiles' mouth dropped open. "What, seriously?"

"Yes. That's a common hunter tactic: establish a new persona with a social security record and enough of an online presence to not arouse suspicion and then try to find a way in. Most false identities for cases like ours don't hold up well under closer scrutiny, which is how Danny found them relatively easily." Derek placed his empty cup beside the sink and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "The question is, what do we do with this information?"

"Prank the shit out of them, of course," Stiles answered immediately. "We got our failsafes, but seriously, I'm not gonna pass up a chance to stick it to those assholes. I'm pretty sure that Peter will agree."

"Sounds good, but … how?"

Snorting, Stiles inhaled the rest of his breakfast. "The failsafes will keep hunter assholes - any assholes, really - from using our products against innocents and it won't be hard to put another layer of magic in place that'll judge a user's intent and retaliate with pranks on top of that. The worse the intent, the worse the prank. It's not rocket science."

"Not for you, you mean."

Stiles preened a little.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm not against it, but maybe we should discuss this as a pack later," Derek cautioned.

"Yeah, no problem. Peter's the strategist, he'll have ideas about it." Stiles drained his heavenly Vietnamese rum and butter roasted coffee and stood. "Now let's get your aura cleaned up, Sourwolf. Although, before we go … I, uh, might have something in store for you that might make you furious."

Derek's eyebrows rose at that declaration. "How furious?"

"A-wild-dog-on-a-leash furious," Stiles admitted. He exhaled. "I woke up last night and had a great time imagining all the ways The Bitch could hurt you."

"You have a plan," Derek prodded, still staring at Stiles.

"You bet I do, but it's sort of DEFCON 1." Stiles fidgeted a little. "I want to essentially chastity-belt you against foreign magic until we've dealt with The Bitch. I mean, I don't want to, but, ya know, needs must. It'll probably be super intrusive so I didn't want to put you on the spot in front of the others. If you say no now, that's it and I won't mention it again."

"Stiles," Derek growled, eyes flashing. "What, exactly, do you mean by chastity-belting me magically?"

Stiles licked his dry lips. "Uh, since you're a huge nerd and have read tons of Harry Potter fanfiction, let me put it this way: I intend to place war wards on you that'll fry anyone who even tries to touch you magically into a black crisp. I'm not joking and I'm also not sorry. But I won't do it if you don't want to because the downside also is that only I can touch you magically."

Understanding dawned on Derek's face. "It'd block my bonds with the pack."

"Lou says so. He's not keen on it, but he understands if that's any kind of consolation." Stiles stuffed his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders. On his arms, the mountain ash was crawling around in ever-changing shapes. "It's asking a lot, I know that."

"Why do it, then?" Derek asked quietly, eyes glowing.

Stiles raised his red eyes to Derek's, his voice suddenly firm and determined. "Because I refuse to send you away until The Bitch is dealt with, and I also refuse to let you stay in Beacon Hills without the best security I have available. This pack leaves no one behind. So, what will it be, Beta?"

They shared an intense look for nearly a minute.

At last, Derek relaxed a little and said, "I'll always choose to be by your side, Alpha. I'm going to be your strength, not a liability."

Stiles relaxed as well and tugged Derek into a long, warm embrace. "Thank you." He stepped back and grinned suddenly, which made Derek instantly suspicious. "You'd better be prepared to get werewolf-nibbled after all."

Whistling, Stiles clapped a floored Derek on the shoulder, picked up the bag with supplies and sauntered out of the kitchen.

"Wait, Stiles!" Derek called when he'd shaken off his surprise. "You're going to do what?!"

End of chapter 91