Community of Civilized Wolves
It had been too long since he'd been in a house filled with conflict and tension, he'd forgotten how stressful it was. though, before they'd been a family, a pack, with all the bonds and connections that came with that. Now, he was mostly surrounded by strangers with no more reason to be their than it being a necessity.
The transgenics, as Alec insisted, they be referred to, at least knew why they were there, and understood the enormity of what was going on. - Not to mention, knowing that the supernatural existed. The same couldn't be said for certain humans in their midst.
Boyd's mom seemed to be taking everything in her stride. Sat on the couch watching what was happening with a shrewdness Derek hadn't seen since his grandmother, giving him a weird sense of home.
Having Mrs Boyd in the pack could work out rather well.
It was a shame he couldn't say the same for Jackson and Erica's parents. Though in Erica's case, it were her father that was a problem. Mrs Reyes looked to terrified to do more than sit huddled in the corner, tear stained face lowered as she avoided eye contact with everyone, including Erica, which pissed Derek off, as much as he understood her shock and Fear. Luckily, Melissa was there trying to calm her down. - When she wasn't arguing with Scott in the kitchen.
Erica's father however, seemed determined to argue with everyone, especially Derek. As an upstanding member of the town, he seemed to be under the impression that he was in charge, and attitude that rubbed literally everyone up the wrong way, least of all Derek. Even Stiles had had a 'conversation ' with him, concerning the situation.
It was only when Derek had informed him, that it was his wife who needed protection and that he could leave if he so wished, that he'd finally shut the fuck up and sat down. - Erica's tearful pleas had helped.
The worst tension in the house of course, came from Mrs Whittemore, and Peter. Derek did feel sorry for Jackson, how could he not, trapped between his parents and his biological father, not to mention having his uncle tied up in the basement. So, it was really no surprise that he'd escaped, finding sanctuary with Isaac on the second floor.
As for everyone else, well the majority of the transgenics had claimed the kitchen, which frankly Derek wasn't complaining about. It would be harder for the Argents to escape or for Scott to get down to them.
And Scott, well he was moping on the couch giving death glares at Derek every few seconds. He'd been shooting them at Stiles until the teenager had escaped upstairs to check on his father.
Stepping away from the window, Derek waved Boyd over. "You take over the watch?" At Boyd's nod, Derek headed for the stairs, eager to escape the tension, and the suffocating stench of fear and anxiety.
He peered into the bedroom, finding Jackson laying together on the bed, Issacs long lanky arms wrapped around Jackson protectively. He both looked up him, a look of concern appearing on each of their faces. Derek had told them months ago to stay away from each other, for their own safety.
Mostly because Jackson didn't seem ready to accept his feelings for Isaac and was continuing to fight with Peter over Lydia.
Derek looked between them and subtly scented the air, then gave a small nod and stepped back, closing the door, hoping Jackson wasn't leading Isaac into more heartache.
Moving on, he paused outside Peter's room. He didn't knock, didn't need to. The giggles coming from inside told Derek his uncle and Lydia were making the most of the calm before the storm.
His next stop was Cora's room. His sister had sort sanctuary upstairs as soon as the newcomers began to crowd the house. With a knock, he waited a moment before opening the door. Aiden stood at the window, his brother perched on the bed. Derek frowned, "Where's Cora?"
The pair turned to him, "Next door." They said in unison.
The next room was his own, making Derek instantly nervous. He pulled the door closed and hurried to his room, bursting in as if he expected trouble. What he found was his sister and his boyfriend sat on the window seat, laughing.
Derek stood staring, bewildered. He hadn't seen Cora laugh since...well, since they were children. His heart squeezed tightly, and a lump filled his throat. The pair's heads snapped around to stare at him, their faces flushed and happy.
"Del." Cora greeted, " I like this guy. He's funny."
Stiles grinned proudly, and Derek nodded, "He thinks so."
"Wait, Del?" Stiles frowned, looking between them with confusion.
"It's what I call him." Cora shrugged, " ever since we were kids."
"It's a long story." Derek said, glancing over to the still unconscious Sheriff. "How is he?"
Stiles' brightness dimmed, "Still breathing."
"That's good." Cora said, nodding. She got to her feet, pulling her hoodie tight around her, "I'll leave you guys to it." Strolling to Derek she paused, squeezing his arm, and smiling up at him.
Instinct took over and he leant down, pecking her cheek. It was good seeing just a hint of the little girl he'd once known.
"I'll tell you more later Stiles." Cora promised as she strolled casually out of the room, pulling the door closed behind her.
"Tell you more what?" Derek asked cautiously.
Stiles grinned again, "Embarrassing stories from your childhood." He chuckled, and Derek growled, throwing an angry frustrated look over his shoulder.
"Don't be such a sour wolf. " Stiles laughed, "come here." He patted the space Cora had left vacant.
Rolling his eyes, Derek strolled over, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to Stiles lips. Stiles moaned but before he could even attempt to deepen the kiss, Derek pulled back and moved to the seat next to him.
He leaned back against the window and stared at the Sheriff, "Any change?" He asked, even as he knew the answer.
Stiles shook his head and stretched out his legs until they rested across Derek's lap. The alpha's hands coming to rest on Stiles shins. "Nothing."
"How's everything downstairs?"
Derek shrugged, "Tense."
Stiles hummed, looked at him searchingly. "You, okay?"
Turning his head, he gave a small smile. "It's just a lot."
Stiles nodded understandingly, then turned to look out the window. "The calm before the storm is always the worst part."
"Yeah."
They slipped into a comfortable silence, Derek's hands massaging Stiles' legs as he watched the sheriff, while Stiles continued to stare out into the darkening sky.
"They're out there, you know."
Derek turned his head, nodding. "I know." Derek sighed, "they'll wait for nightfall. "
Stiles scoffed, "I don't know why? It's not like they're catching us by surprise, or like the dark will give them an advantage."
Derek turned his whole body, looking out into the preserve. "A night attack is more dramatic."
"God, I'd kill for a fresh plate of curly fries." Stiles groaned in a sudden change of subject, his stomach loudly agreeing. "When I was...all I thought about was curly fries."
Derek huffed, " Thanks. "
Stiles smirked, "I sorry, babe, but they'll always be my first love."
"Well, let's see curly fries save your arse next time you're in trouble."
Stiles laughed, kicking lightly at Derek's thigh. "I think you're forgetting who's the trouble magnet here."
Derek sighed and lowered his head, shoulders slumping, "Yeah. - I..."
Shuffling forward, Stiles tugged on Derek's sleeve, "Don't, okay. You couldn't have found me, Derek. They didn't want anyone to find me."
Derek shook his head, "I'm a werewolf, I should have been able to track you."
"How? They knew about you, they would have covered my scent and you know it."
Unconvinced, Derek exhaled and got to his feet. "I'll get you something to eat." Before he could move, Stiles snagged his hand.
"Derek, look at me." He waited for the alpha to turn his head. "You have to stop blaming yourself for what others do. You can't control the universe Derek," He huffed, "so you can't be blamed when the bad guys get the upper hand."
"My family would..."
"Hey, we've been through this." Stiles said firmly, getting to his feet, so he was toe to toe and eye to eye with his boyfriend, "You did nothing wrong, and your family knows that. You know that. If you don't believe me, tell Cora and Peter, get it off your chest."
Derek flinched at the mere idea. "Peter knows." He muttered.
"And does he blame you?"
Derek looked away, shrugging. "Probably."
"Has he said anything?" Stiles asked calmly.
"No."
"And have you ever known Peter not to rub salt in the wound?"
Derek stood silently looking at his shoes for a few seconds before shaking his head.
"That tells you everything you need to know then, doesn't it?" Stiles exhaled, stepping closer, his hand rising to stroke at Derek's cheek.
Derek took a deep breath and lent in to capture Stiles lips. Breaking the kiss, Stiles smiled up at him, "Now, you mentioned food."
_(*_*)_
Stiles didn't even realise he'd fallen asleep until he was being woken up by someone bursting into the room. He sat up with a start, rubbing at his eyes and confused as hell. He looked over to see Boyd, already wolfed out and practically humming with urgency.
Derek was on his feet and shifting, "You know what to do."
"Lydia is leading the humans down to the cellar." He moved over to the Sheriff , lifting him easily over his shoulder.
Stiles leapt to his feet, opening his mouth to demand to know what Boyd was doing, but his brain caught up with him before any words could leave his mouth. He watched as Boyd hurried carried his father out of the room.
"I should be out there with you." He said as he and Derek followed.
"This was your plan. " Derek reminded him unhelpfully.
"Doesn't mean I like it," Stiles grumbled, rushing down the stairs behind Derek.
The lower floor was in chaos as everyone prepared for battle, he tugged on Derek sleeve, forcing him to turn. "Be careful."
Derek held his gaze, hand curling around the back of Stiles' neck. "You too?" He said almost breathlessly, then leant in for a long lingering kiss.
Stiles curled his fingers into the front of Derek's Hensley until his knuckles were white, breathing in the alphas scent. When Derek broke the kiss, Stiles looked at him with tearful eyes, "I love you, Sourwolf."
Derek swallowed thickly, "I love you too." He whispered, pulling him into a high hug. "Go." He said , shoving Stiles away.
"They're coming!" Alec yelled from the door.
Derek glanced over his shoulder, then gave Stiles another rough push, "Go!" He yelled, then turned and ran out into the night.
Turning on his heels, Stiles sprinted for the cellar, passing Boyd. He yanked the door closed behind him and secured the lock that was wired to a double barrel shotgun. The cellar was practically empty but for the argents, still tied to chairs. The others had all been moved along to the Nemeton room, leaving only himself and the other X6s.
They all stood, armed and Stiles can't deny he enjoys the buzz of adrenaline that begins to rush through him on the brink of battle. - Well, he can't and probably shoulder, but it's programmed into his friggin' DNA.
He begins to pace the room anxiously, shotgun held in hand as if it were a baseball bat, and he wished it were, he's better with a bat.
"Untie us, we can help." Allison pleaded while her father said silently, eyes fixed on the door.
Stiles looked down at the hunters and scoffed, "Sure," he said, tone thick with sarcasm and mistrust, "like you help last year."
Allison huffed, "You're serious going to leave us tied up when you're out numbered, just because of a misunderstanding a year ago?"
Stiles stepped up to her seat, lifting his gun to rest on his shoulders, "Firstly, it was way beyond a misunderstanding." He seethed, "you almost killed my pack!"
This time, Allison had the decency to look guilty.
"And secondly, what makes you think we're out numbered?" He narrowed his eyes at her, calculating.
Chris rolled his eyes, "because they're an army and there's barely twenty of you."
Stiles' heart twisted painfully because he knew it was true, however like hell was Stiles going to give them the satisfaction of seeing him worried.
"Stiles, please." Allison said in her soft friendly voice that had lured them all into a false sense of security.
"Perhaps..." Kira interrupted, looking from the pair to Stiles.
"No!" Stiles snapped, "I'm not going to give them a chance to betray Derek again!"
Chris exhaled a tired sigh and slumped against the chair while Stiles turned to regard his fellow X6s. They all looked just as anxious as he was. Well, almost all of them, Theo was sat across the bottom step, tapping his foot against the wooden banister, as if he were lounging at the park.
"Comfortable?" Stiles asked, glaring at him.
Smirking, Theo shrugged, "I'd prefer the couch, but I'm used to finding comfort where I can, so..." He shrugged, and set his head back against the banister and closed his eyes.
"Why?" Kira asked quietly , moving up to Stiles side.
Theo turned his head, cracking open on eye, "What?"
She shifted uncomfortably and clarified, "Why are you used to...?"
"I just am." Theo snapped , straight and getting to his feet.
"Where's your family?" Malia asked, moving closer.
Theo shot her a hard look, almost as if he felt betrayed by her question. "None of your business." he growled, eyes filling with anger.
"Guys, leaving him alone." Liam said desperately . "He's one of us."
Stiles hummed, "We're just getting to know each other. we're curious, is all? I mean, we all know how each other got caught, all but Theo. In fact, we know nothing about you. You didn't even escape with us, you found us afterwards."
A heavy silence fell over them all, as Stiles and Theo stared each other down. Each teens' fingers tightening around their weapons.
"Theo?" Liam said, confused .
Theo glanced over at the younger teen, his shoulders slumping, "I..."
Before he can finish whatever excuse, he was about to deliver, a huge bang draws all their attention to the door. Hurriedly, Theo steps away and the others all raise their weapons, bracing themselves.
Then there's another explosion, louder, causing everyone's ears to begin ringing, as the scene of gunpowder fills the air. Stiles squints up the stairs, waiting for the smoke to clear, his heart racing, but before he can get his bearings, there's the sound of heavy footfall rushing down the stairs.
He fires a shot without having a clue who he's even aiming at, and hears a shamefully satisfying series of thumps as a body tumbles down the stairs, landing at his feet. He doesn't let his mind dwell on the fact he'd just killed someone, because the smoke has cleared and there are a lot more black-clad attackers rushing in.