Note: I realised my timing was off. I insinuated in chapter 5 that it was almost Thanksgiving when the blackout happened, that was a mistake. I went back to my notes and realised that it would have actually been after New Year. Sorry for the confusion. I have gone back to alter the line. For the rest of you, keep in mind that the break out happened on January 3rd 2013.

Halt and Catch Fire

Stiles stared at the small pathetic fire, visions of the crashed plane taunting him in its orange glow. It had been almost four days since they'd left it behind, too scared of being found when the authorities came looking. - Which they were bound to do, right? Plane crashes aren't ignored.

They were days from the boarder and quickly running out of food, which they all knew meant having to venture into town. They'd decided to wait until they left Wyoming before attempting to interact with the public, hoping that Manticore hadn't searched beyond state lines.

Stiles knew it was wishful thinking, and he suspected so did everyone else. But what other choice did they have? It was winter, there wasn't much to hunt.

Lifting his trembling cold hands to his mouth, Stiles blow on them before rubbing them together. God, how he desperately wanted the warmth and security of his home, but they needed to be sure they weren't being tracked, according to Alec. So they were zig-zagging across the state. At this rate, it would take them weeks, maybe even months to reach Beacon Hills.

493. Stiles told himself for the hundredth time since dawn.

He'd missed Christmas, and New Year, his first away from his father and Scott. His chest tightened at the thought of his father spending the season alone. - Sure, they rarely got to spend the day together, his father taking the shift more and more often over the last few years. - Stiles understood why, kinda. Though it didn't stop it hurting that his father would rather spend the day with criminals and drunks, than with him. – But then, why would he want to? Stiles was nothing but a reminder than his wife was gone. And it wasn't as if Stiles was even his real son, right?

So instead he'd hang out at Scott's place, either keeping his best friend company if Melissa was also forced to work that day, or to be fussed over by the pair of them.

This year would have been different though, wouldn't it? Stiles realised sadly. He and Scott weren't friends anymore, so he doubted he'd be welcome at the McCalls dinner table. Would he have spent it with Derek and Isaac instead? He pondered the idea and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Thrusting his hands out in front of him, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to bask in the fantasy for a few minutes. Him and Derek, curled up on the couch in the big house they'd built together. Mostly. Watching It's A Wonderful Life, or whatever old movie Derek chose. Isaac curled up like a little puppy in front of the fireplace, as the scent of roast turkey and potatoes slowly ebbed away after dinner.

He could see the twinkle of fairy lights on the tree in the corner, and the multi coloured glow sneaking through a gap in the curtain from the lights hanging from the porch.

Nothing supernatural would ruin the peace of the day. His father would arrive after his shift and Stiles would drag himself out from under Derek's heavy relaxed arm to go and fix his dad a plate, while the two men he love more than anything in the world talked about nothing in particular.

"Thinking of lover boy again?"

Stiles eyes snapped open and he glared angrily up at Theo for not only daring to talk to him, but for pulling him away from his fantasy.

Straightening, Stiles narrowed his eyes. "Wasn't one ass kicking enough?"

Theo smirked, but Stiles could see the anger at being reminded how easily Stiles had laid him out. "If you're interested in getting your hands on me again, all you got to do is ask."

Stiles rolled his eyes warily. "Not if you were the last jerk on earth." He dismissed with a scathing snort. "Besides, I progressed to men six months ago."

"Thought your boyfriend was a werewolf?" Theo quizzed with a bitter smirk.

It took all of Stiles self-control not to leap up and knock the jackass out cold. Instead, he rolled his eyes and muttered, "Fuck off. You're boring me." He then closed his eyes again and waited for the sound of footsteps in the snow.

If they got back to Beacon Hills without Stiles killing the douche-bag, it would frankly be a god-damn miracle. 493 days. 493 days. 493 days. He repeated over and over in his head, reaching out for his anchor to calm him.

His eyes flew open a second time at the sound of something heavy hitting the tightly packed snow, and didn't even attempt to hold on the amused snort at the sight of Theo laid out once again, nose bleeding.

Kira marched toward Stiles, flexing her fingers. She smiled softly down and silently asked if she could join him. With a nod from him, she lowered herself down onto the fallen log.

"Nice." Stiles praised, grinning.

"The guy's an asshole." She spat, gaze flickering across the fire to where Joshua sat, his head down, watching the flames.

Meanwhile Stiles watched over her head as Theo clambered to his feet and staggered over to Malia, the former beginning to fuss. With a tired roll of his eyes, he returned his attention to Kira, bumping her with his shoulder. "You're awesome." He told her with a wide bright grin, "My friends are going to love you."

Kira blushed sheepishly, tucking her chin against her chest and thrusting her shaking hands in between her thighs to help warm them. "What are they like?" she asked shyly, eyes fixed on the snow beneath her feet, shivering.

Stiles shifted closer in an attempt to share his body heat. God only knew what the temperature was, but if they were feeling it, they had to be in the minuses, right? "What, my friends?" at Kira's nod, he shrugged. "I don't know," he hummed thoughtfully. His mind instantly went to Scott, which wasn't a good place. Remembering the last time they'd seen each other, the yelling and accusations. It hurt.

And were he and the others even friends? Sure, he'd grown pretty close with Lydia over the past year, but he still thought Jackson was a dick, and Isaac, well, there was still that tiny part of him that was jealous of him, and his friendship with Scott.

"They're just…" he shrugged, chewing on the inside of his lip for a second, as he fought to find the right word. "Normal, I guess."

Kira looked at him with a raised disbelieving look, "Are they all werewolves?"

"Not all of them." Stiles defended. He met Kira's curious gaze and just knew she'd keep badgering him for more details. It was his own fault really, he should never have brought them up. "But most of them. I mean Ly…." He trailed off as he realized what he was about to say. That Lydia was human too, but – she wasn't. She was a Banshee. He'd have Allison on Team Human, but… well, she wasn't around anymore. – And really, was he even on Team Human?

"Stiles?" Kira frowned, nudging him gently with her elbow.

"We're all special in our own way." He said with a smile.

Kira stared at him for a few minutes, before asking, "And they know about…. You?"

Stiles nodded, "Most of them."

Silence settled between them, and they listened to Malia and Liam fuss over Theo. Joshua's gentle voice as he told Case a story while brushing his fingers through the little boy's hair. The quiet crackle of the fire seemed louder somehow, and everyone tensed as Alec stepped out of the trees with more fire wood.

"I didn't have any friends." Kira muttered quietly once Alec had dropped a fresh log into the flames and settled down beside Joshua.

Stiles turned to stare at her. "What? Surely you had…?"

Kira shook her head. "My mom wouldn't allow it. Said it was too dangerous."

Something twisted in his gut, the memory of his dad inviting the kids from his fourth grade class to his birthday party, encouraging him to blend in. – All the while teaching him to trust no one. If she'd lived past his eighth birthday, would she had stopped him from hanging with Scott? Would she have kept him away from the pack? From Derek? Lord knew, it had taken him a long time before he could trust the man without hearing his mom's whispered words of caution. "That sucks." Stiles sighed, the corner of his lip curling in a sad smile. "But you've got me now." He said with confidence, bumping his shoulder to hers.

Kira looked at him doubtfully, "Really?"

"Absolutely." His smile broadened, and he lifted his arms to her shoulders, pulling her into a sideways hug.

Kira's eyes seemed to glow brightly, the flames reflected in their depths. "Thanks Stiles." She grinned happily.

_(*_*)_

The flames illuminated the sky an eerie mix of orange, yellow and red. It reminded Stiles of hell. The cliché hell of pop culture and classical art. The hell a Sunday school teacher would warn him about, if you know, he'd gone to Sunday school.

There was heat to, blistering his flesh. Strangely attempting to lure him in and force him away, all at the same time.

And the smell. God, the smell. Choking him. Ripping at his throat. Causing his eyes to sting and water. His stomach rebelled. It was almost as if the odour was fingers reaching down his throat to curl around every corner of his insides and twist, until all he wanted to do was vomit, in a desperate hope he could cleanse himself of the horrific torture.

But it wasn't the colours, or the heat that terrified Stiles, it was what lay in the center of those flames. Being consumed slowly. Melting flesh sizzling and turning black, adding to the foul scent that hung heavily around them. But no matter how blackened and blistered the bodies became, Stiles could still make out their faces. Could still see their features twisted in pain and horror, and fear. He could still see the look of betrayal on his friends faces.

He couldn't breathe, he realised. The heat and smell, and light, all choking him. Trying to draw him in too. His eyes flicker around the wreckage, his legs turning to water beneath him. If only they were water, then at least he could put out the flames. He could stop hell from consuming more and more of his friends.

When his eyes landed on Derek, he couldn't hold on anymore, and he crumpled to the ground. It's too hot for tears to form in his eyes, so on his hands and knees he crawled closer, and reached out. His long fingers burning as he touched flames, but he doesn't stop. He needs to touch, needs to be sure.

The tips of his fingers almost reach their goal. Just a few more inches. He can make it. He won't let the heat win.

Derek's eyes fly open, blazing as red as the flames licking across his body, as they meet Stiles.

Stiles shot up, unable to breathe. Shivering, as the heat of the flames are dispelled by the icy winter cold. Tears have turned to icicles on his lashes, which make it difficult to see. There's light still. A similar dancing fire, but the blistering heat has gone and it's only a small corner of the darkness that's shimmers orange. In its distant light, he can see a large figure in front of him, two piercing electric blue eyes starting to move closer.

"Derek?" Stiles whispered, voice cracking. "What happened? Why are your eyes...?"

A light touch lands on his ankle and almost instantly he feels it. Air begins to fill his lungs once more. The fear and anxiety begins to seep away, bit by bit; his mind clears and the haunting images of the nightmare dissipates. Stiles lifts his hand to his eyes, rubbing at them. When he lowers it, Derek isn't there. In his place is Joshua, and with a twist of his heart, Stiles realises Derek hadn't been there at all. It had all been part of the dream. A wish unfulfilled.

The giant werewolf was crouched beside his legs. He looked up through his long hair and once again Stiles saw the electric blue of his eyes. As the seconds ticked by in the silent darkness. Stiles kept opening his mouth to say something, but no words would find their way free.

Then the touch is gone and Joshua is scrambling away from him, moving back to his place by the fire. Stiles watched him; Joshua drawing his long limbs up, knees pressing to his chest, arms wrapping tight around them. He doesn't look as Stiles, instead hanging his head, long hair concealing his features.

"Thanks, Buddy." Stiles finally said quietly, his whole body relaxed once more.

Joshua looks over at him shyly. "Your welcome, Buddy."

"Hell of a gift, you've got there." Joshua lowered his head further and Stiles shuffled closer to the flames. "My friends, they can take away pain, but only in the physical sense, you know."

"I take pain. Inside." Joshua muttered, looking up once again through is hair and tapped at his chest.

His eyes have returned to their natural colour, and Stiles is just dying to ask about them, but he doesn't. "That's awesome man." Stiles grinned at him, attempting to reassure the large werewolf that he wasn't scared, or angry.

They fell into a comfortable silence for a long while, the only sound around them that of the crackling flames and their companions breathing. Stiles poked at the small fire with a stick and winced when his stomach rumbled. Looking down, he pressed his palm against his gut. "Man," he moaned, "I would kill for some Curly Fries. The first thing I'm doing when I get home is get a huge order." His words were punctuated by another louder rumble.

"Curly - fries?" Joshua quizzed, shaking back his hair to meet Stiles gaze.

"You've ever had curly fries?" Stiles gaped, horrified, "Oh man, they're awesome. The food of the gods. Best thing to ever be created. There aren't words, man." He shook his head, "You're gonna love 'em, I swear." he grinned at the werewolf. "Just as soon as we get home, my treat."

Joshua grinned at him, face lighting up with excitement and joy. "Curly. Fries."

_(*_*)_

They crossed the border two days ago and everyone was tired. It seemed like months instead of days since they escaped the clutches of Manticore. 9 days and 6 hours to be precise.

The snow was getting thicker, and the cold was biting that much deeper. Stiles had stopped feeling his toes three days ago. "Alec?" Stiles sighed warily, jogging up to the man's side, Case once again stretched across his back.

The X5 barely looked at him, eyes continuing to scan their surroundings. "What is it?"

"We need to stop man." Stiles groaned, bumping up Case as he began to slip, the kid's arms weak from the cold. "Preferably somewhere dry and warm."

That got the man's attention and he spared Stiles a scathing look, "Sure. We'll just stroll into the next town and hire a room at the local hotel."

"Hardy Ha Ha." Stiles scoffed flatly, glaring at the X5, "Sarcasm ain't gonna work on me, I'm completely immune to it. – And I'm serious. We're all completely wrecked dude. The weather is getting worse, not to mention we're nearly out of food."

Alec finally stopped walking, turning to Stiles with a frustrated look. "It's been a week." He grunted, frustrated. "We're trained to last months in worse weather than this, and with less resources."

"You. You're trained." Stiles interrupted angrily, glaring at the man. "We're not soldiers." He jerked his head in the direction of the others. "We weren't trained for anything like this."

"Speak for yourself." Malia scoffed.

Stiles shot her a hard look before turning back to the X5. "Fine, I wasn't trained for this. Not to mention…" he jostled Case on his back meaningfully. "Joshua had been held in a damn cell god only knows how long…"

"A long time." The werewolf informed them.

"Right." Stiles nodded. "Liam? You get survivalist training?"

The younger teen shook his head.

Alec rolled his eyes and exhaled a long sigh. "A week. You can't last a week?" he muttered, shaking his head.

"I was raised in California, okay man. My body is not acclimatized to this kind of cold. I'm practically numb from the waist down. Let's just find a damn barn or something, thaw out a little."

Alec shook his head, glaring at the teenager. "Do you want to get home or not? We can't keep stopping every 50 miles. We keep walking."

"But…"

"You'll be fine, trust me. You're built for this." With that Alec turned his back on them and marched ahead.

Stiles groaned, looking back to the others. "Thanks for the back-up guys." He grumbled.

Kira smiled at him sheepishly. "Sorry."

Theo grinned at him obnoxiously, "You're most welcome." He huffed out, marching off to catch up with Alec.

Stiles gritted his teeth, "First snow drift we come to, man." He warned in a low voice.

Theo just winked back at him while walking backwards.

"It has only been a week Stiles." Malia huffed, rolling her eyes as she headed towards him. "Alec's right, we're built for this."

"You might be, but I hate the cold. My feet are wet and frozen, and we haven't slept in days. I'm not used to this kind of abuse. I was born in California."

"So was I doofus." Malia scoffed, rolling her eyes, "You don't see me complaining."

"Yeah, well…. Well, you're…." Stiles stuck out his tongue and span around, almost losing his footing in the snow. He would have toppled over under the weight of Case on his back and his own clumsiness had it not been for Kira and Malia's fast reflexes.

"God, Stiles." Malia groaned, setting him back on his feet, while Kira lifted Case off his back. "Are you sure you're one of us."

"Hey, it's snow." He gestured angrily at the ground. "It's slippery okay."

"Keep moving!" Alec yelled from a few feet away.

"I'll keep moving alright?" Stiles grumbled shooting the man a glare, "I'll move my foot right up your ass."

Kira and Malia snorted.

_(*_*)_

As if in answer to Stiles prayers, thirty-two hours later they stumble across a cabin. "Oh, thank you Lord." Stiles sighs dramatically in relief.

"We'll track back the way we came…"

"What?" Stiles glared at Alec in disbelief and betrayal. "Why the fuck? This place is empty." He waved angrily at the snow covered cabin. "No one's likely been up here in months."

"Probably since the snow started." Kira helpfully added, earning her a smile from Stiles, and a glare from Alec.

"Yeah. So why not take advantage, man? Have you never heard it's rude to look a gift horse in the mouth? Well it is buddy. Very, very rude. So let's not be rude to the horse, okay." Stiles ranted, hands flipping around aimlessly.

Alec stared at him with a mixture of frustration and pure bafflement. "You talk too much." He finally grunted out, rolling his eyes.

"Don't change the subject." Stiles snapped, making a show of rubbing his hands together and shivering dramatically. "We all need to warm up, and who knows, there might be food. Warm, semi-delicious food." As if on cue everyone's stomachs rumbled, including Alec's.

Alec glanced between them all and sighed, shaking his head. "Fine." He groaned. "You stay here until me and Joshua check it out." He jerked his head for Joshua to follow him, which the giant werewolf did easily.

Stiles grinned happily, watching the pair stopping off towards the cabin. He shivered, for real this time, and looked back to the others. Kira smiled at him while pulling Case closer to her chest. The little boy's head resting on her shoulder. "You okay there, little man?" Stiles asked softly, eyes searching the kid's face.

Case didn't even open his eyes. "He's been sleeping a lot." Malia commented.

"It's his body trying to conserve energy." Liam said matter-of-factly, causing everyone to look at him in surprise. "What?" He frowned.

Stiles smirked, "Nothing. Just funny, you know that but have never heard of the Karate Kid." The girls snorted at the reminder of a conversation two days previous.

"My dad was a doctor, okay." Liam snapped defensively, turning away from them.

Stiles and the girls instantly sobered, while Theo glared at them. "Nice one, big mouth." Theo snapped, moving closer to the younger teen.

"Blow me, Dickwod." Stiles spat, flipping the guy off.

"You just keep changing your mind, don't you?" Theo smirked seductively.

"Oh, for Christ's sake, just stop dude. I'm not interested. I'll never be interested." Stiles all but shouted.

Theo opened his mouth to speak again, only to be cut off by Joshua's return. "All safe. Come." He waved.

Kira didn't hesitated, hurrying forward, arms tightening around Case's small body, even as her own shook. Liam moved at the same moment, the pair hurrying towards the shelter of the cabin. Malia followed after her, tugging on Stiles arm. "Come on. You wanted to get warm."

Still glaring furiously at Theo, Stiles allowed Malia to practically drag him into the small wooden cabin.

As it turned out, it wasn't any warmer inside than out, but at least there was no wind, and there was food. Stiles grinned smugly at Alec, who stared back at him, unimpressed.

As everyone made themselves comfortable, Alec headed for the door. "We need wood for the fire. Stiles."

Looking up from his seat on a rickety chair, his shaking fingers reaching for his laces. "What?"

"You're coming with me."

"What?"

"You wanted to stop."

"Yeah, so I could get out of the cold. I don't want to go rifling back through the snow."

Alec didn't bother arguing with him, instead he gripped the back of Stiles jacket and yanked him out of the seat, causing Stiles to almost fall on his face. Leaping to his feet, the teenager shot the man a murderous look and prepared to fight the X5. He was stopped by a small sad whimper and his head snapped around to see Case, still huddled in Kira's arms, Joshua doing his best to share his body heat. Pack comes first. Derek whispered in his head. And as insane as it was to Stiles, this rag-tag group of transgenics were kind of like his pack now, right?

Straightening his back, he turned back to Alec. "Okay. Let's go."

Alec's eyes widened with surprise as Stiles marched past him.

It took them almost an hour to track down enough dry wood to actually start a decent fire. The whole task was conducted in silence, Stiles surprisingly quiet as he focused on looking for fallen branches and twigs. As he worked, his mind kept itself busy, as it had done for months, with thoughts of home and his life in Beacon Hills. - Most prominently, he couldn't stop thinking about his mom.

It wasn't until they were on their way back to the cabin that Stiles finally decided to broach the subject that had been on his mind for day's now. Licking at his cold and chapped lips, he tightened his grip around the pile of wood in his arms and voiced his question. "Do you know who my father is?"

Alec stared at him, seemingly surprised by the question. "What?"

"My father. My mom was already pregnant when she escaped Manticore, so it was obviously someone there. If you knew my mom, then you must know…"

"Firstly, she didn't escape Manticore, she was let go, along with the others."

"What about you?"

Alec lowered his eyes, exhaling. "I – I was recaptured."

"Recaptured?" Stiles frowned, confused.

Alex sighed, a plume of warm air creating a cloud in front of him. "Manticore was a private project, until the military heard about what Father was doing? As the military is want to do, they 'persuaded' Father they could help, if he promised to share his results. Money and time was running out, so Father agreed. He had no idea until it was too late that the government and military had been infiltrated by members of Stheno's cult. Luckily he was able to hold them at bay long enough to succeed in his plan, but it meant giving them what they wanted."

"Stheno? Like the Gorgon?" Stiles gaped, drawing to a halt to stare at the X5.

Alec nodded, refusing to stop and elaborate. "Only what they didn't know, is we weren't built to be their army. We were trained to fight Stheno's followers, the emissaries and werewolves. By the time we'd reached our mid-teens, the military were growing impatient. Father discovered they were planning to take over the project, and he knew that once they did, everything he'd worked for would be lost. So, in order to secure his plan Father manufactured a breakout. Twelve of us 'escaped', at least that's what Father told everyone, but it was actually twenty-four. While your mom and the other's got away, some of us were 'recaptured' and returned to Manticore."

"So, you got caught on purpose." Stiles muttered, matching Alec's pace once more, "That's…" he shook his head, surprisingly unable to find the right words.

"The military took over Manticore, the cult placed their people in charge. They believed they'd recaptured all the escapees. Father's research was destroyed, and we were reprogramed."

"You don't seem reprogramed?" Stiles said carefully, eyes searching the older man's features, suddenly nervous.

"Oh, believe me, I was." Alec exhaled, tone filled with pain and regret. "I…" he trailed off, seeming to become lost in his own mind. "As for your father," he said, clearing his throat, "He wasn't from Manticore."

Stiles stopped once again, brows drawn tightly together, his heart racing. "Then who…?"

Alec finally drew to a halt and turned to look at the kid. "I…" He shook his head, "I don't know why she didn't tell you, but…your father is your father."

Stiles stared at him, eyes narrowing. "Wow, cryptic. You and Deaton are going to…"

"I mean, your father, the man who raised you. He's your father. Genetically."

The world seemed to fall deathly silent as Stiles stared at him, confused. His heart beat frantically in his throat and he could feel his hands beginning to tremble. The taste of copper was settling against the back of his tongue and he blinked repeatedly, fighting off the encroaching white. It had to be a joke. A sick, fucked up joke. Alec was screwing with him, because there was no way his mom wouldn't have told them. Right?

"Stiles?"

He shook his head. "No. It can't be. She would have t-told m-me. S-she w-would have t-old h-him." He stammered, his legs beginning to turn to water beneath his weight. "S-she would have…"

"Stiles!"

A/N: Sorry it's been so long. I wasn't sure whether to have Stiles find out here or later, so I tossed a coin. I hope this chapter wasn't too back, it's been hell to write, for some reason. Anyway, I'll try not to take so long getting the next one up. In the meantime, feedback is always welcome. Thanks.