Someone mentioned wanting to see an interlude for this scene and...my brain went here.
Please enjoy some interlude-y chaos.
And my attempt at bringing in Parrish, Chris, and the Sheriff himself.
And world building cause let's face it, Derek deserved something nice at the beginning before I raised his blood pressure.


Most people wouldn't think twice about enjoying a pleasant, mid-day nap at home, in the comforts of their own bed.

Most people, however, did not share a house with their "psychotic with narcissistic tendencies" (damn Stiles) uncle who had, more than once, attempted to murder them in one way or another for the family's Alpha Spark like Derek did...yet, the Alpha of Beacon Hills was currently indulging in just that.
A well-deserved nap.

Why was he so comfortable napping at home despite the aforementioned danger of the house's, current, only other occupant, one might ask?
Well, the indestructible (thanks to strength-enhancing runes carved into the wood) protection runes carved into the inner portion of the frame of the doorway to his bedroom (bless Stiles) may have been the cause of that.

Sure, he had been suspicious, at first, when he'd seen Stiles running all around the house during the rebuilding process, carving strength and protection runes into the frames wherever he could (and even more so when he'd seen the resident Spark carving these particular runes into his doorframe) but, the reassurance that, thanks to the magic powering the runes throughout the house, there would never be another fire like what Kate had done...that the house would forever be a sanctuary and a fortress to protect the pack, had dispelled any suspicions and many of the Alpha's leftover fears.
He could have hugged the teenager (actually, he was sure he had, but he didn't remember exactly) for such an immense gift.

The runes on his bedroom doorframe? Oh, they functioned much the same...though with a lovely added bonus that, unless Derek invited someone into his room, and until he told them to get out, the runes would keep anyone from entering the room who was not Derek Hale.
Or, as Stiles had translated for them all "if Peter or anyone tries to enter uninvited, they'll pretty much get the pain equivalent of a car battery strapped to their genitals and be unable to enter, so you're welcome, Sourwolf".

The kid was a pain in the ass, but he could be pretty damn useful when he wanted to.

However, it was not thoughts on Stiles usefulness that had woken the Alpha. In all honesty, Derek wasn't quite sure what had suddenly woken him up from his nap. He hadn't had a bad dream or anything like that since Stiles had given him, and most everyone in the Pack actually, magic-infused dreamcatchers that he'd made so that they could all have restful sleep.

Derek frowned as he sat up in bed-focusing his senses.
There were no out of place smells...only the combined scent of the Pack, the girls' perfumes and body sprays, the guys' colognes, the faint aromas from breakfast that morning, Peter's overly expensive coffee...all familiar, warm and comforting.
There were no other sounds in the house besides Peter downstairs...talking...with Stiles.

Derek shot off of his bed, dashed across his room, and threw open his door in time to hear Stiles' voice saying "-take over a town or two, and run shit!" followed by a noise that could only be Stiles falling to the floor due to flailing about like a wacky waving inflatable arms man outside of a car dealership.

Dread filled Derek, practically bolting him to his spot out on the second-floor landing by the stairs, when he heard his uncle moving, saying something about 'getting the car' and involving Lydia. It took hearing his uncle's car starting before the Alpha snapped himself out of his horror-induced muscle-lock and leapt from the landing (bypassing the staircase all together in his haste to prevent any madness) and sprint out the door onto the porch...just in time to see the gravel spray as the pricey car sped off with Beacon Hills' own Masters of Mayhem inside.

Derek dashed back inside to grab his car keys and cellphone (the first so that he could catch up to the illegally modified racecar masquerading as a sports car, and the latter so that he could call up back up).

As Derek all-but threw himself into his cherished Camaro and sped off after his uncle, the vague thought entered his mind that he should have attempted to grab a shirt and a pair of shoes...but, it's not like the ticket for those would be anything he couldn't handle.

The engine roared to life and the Alpha hit the gas, speeding down the drive and out onto the road to chase down the car that, unfortunately, had a headstart on him. As he rounded a sharp curve, he pulled up his cellphone to call in the cavalry.

"What's the crisis of the day, Derek?" Came the hellhound's calm voice over the phone line. Then... "Are you calling me while driving again?"

"Yes, because I'm in pursuit of my uncle and Stiles. They're on their way to Lydia's. Apparently they're gonna stage a hostile takeover of several towns."

There was a pause on the line as Jordan Parrish ran those sentences through his mind, testing different ways and inflections of saying them in an attempt to make the whole thing make some form of sense...before deciding that if Peter Hale and Stiles Stilinski were both involved, sense had clearly taken a flying leap out of a window without so much as a backward glance.

"Should I tell the Sheriff about this? Put out an APB or something?"

"It's Peter and Stiles...not only will it embarrass the Sheriff, but Peter'd probably do anything and everything to humiliate the Sheriff's department." Derek growled out under his breath; he refused to let anything with his Pack endanger the Sheriff's job again. "Look, just grab your car and help me try to cut them off before they reach Lydia."

"And if we cut them off and get them out of the car, they will probably run." Was all the hellhound said, but Derek could pick up the subtle sounds of the deputy discreetly leaving his desk to head outside to his cruiser. "May I suggest calling in the rest of the pack?"

"...Stiles would probably talk them into helping. Hell...that will be what happens if the Pack shows up and those two had recruited Lydia."

"Then..." A car door shut and an engine turned over. "What about Argent?"

As much as Derek didn't want to involve the Hunter...Chris Argent would probably be a huge help in this debacle.
Though, he would probably give them all the 'Disappointed Dad Glare of Judging Every Life Choice You Ever Made'...but Derek could live with that. The Hunter's version of that particular glare was nothing compared to the Sheriff or Melissa McCall's versions.
Their versions made him want to whine and bare his throat in submission in all honesty.

"I'll call him. Just go."

After an affirmative from Parrish, the call ended and Derek practically floored his gas pedal as he tried to keep the sports car in view. He brushed his thumb over the number on his speed dial, internally bracing himself for what he was about to do.

[one phone call later and epic car chase later]

As the SUV came to a stop on the stretch of road near the abandoned portion of the warehouse district, Chris Argent could only question his own life choices. He hadn't been expecting to receive a phone call from Derek Hale, requesting his assistance in non-lethally stopping Peter and Stiles from doing insanity, but that didn't exactly mean that he was happy about the fact that he had agreed.
Hell, he had even pulled Marilyn out of her storage case since she was his favorite non-lethal hunting option.

As Chris climbed out of his car, he took in the sight in front of him that was the partially-shifted Alpha of Beacon Hills, in only a pair of sweatpants, and a fully uniformed hellhound sheriff's deputy chasing a partially-shifted 'zombie wolf' around a fancy sports car, that was currently pinned between a sheriff cruiser and the infamous Camaro, like some kind of demented game of 'ring-around-the-car-crash-scene'...that rapidly devolved into 'pop-goes-the-Stiles' as said-Spark occasionally popped out from between the cars to hurl some manner of magic at their pursuers in attempt to keep said-'zombie wolf' from getting caught.

Chris took a deep breath as he calmly pulled Marilyn from her place on the backseat of the SUV. The Hunter rolled his neck and walked a few feet away from his car, hoisting the weapon, that looked like the unholy combination of a bazooka and a crossbow, up onto one shoulder as he took aim at the sprinting Peter Hale.
Derek was going to owe him a bottle of good bourbon for this.

"Gotcha." Was all he said as he pulled the trigger and Marilyn let fly...and Peter Hale was taken down and pinned to the ground under a large net that had now staked itself into the pavement, said-wolf twitching and growling beneath the mild electric shocks from the net.

"What the actual-?!" Was all Stiles got out before he was tackled down onto the hood of the sheriff's cruiser by Derek who proceeded to wrestle the teenager into submission as Parrish slowed his run to trot over to Peter and see if the older man was at least somewhat alright.

Chris, however, just rolled his eyes in exasperation (and maybe a touch of amusement) before he shifted Marilyn to lay across his shoulders and walked over to look down at Peter. "Parrish...call Deaton, would you? We'll need him to help secure these two in separate jail cells."

The deputy in question merely nodded, ignoring Derek's scandalized and indignant cry of "did you fucking bite me?!" from near the cars. Chris, however, took the opportunity to crouch down and tap Peter's head (which was not under the netting) with a finger. Peter twisted his head to growl at the Hunter who merely let an evil smirk overtake his face.

"You know...I've wanted to do this for a while."

"Argent, don't you dare-" Was all that Peter got out before Chris set his weapon down, placed both hands on Peter's head, and proceeded to utterly ruin his carefully coiffed hair style and leave the irate and protesting wolf with a case of 'crazy hair' to rival Doc Brown's.

Later, after Chris had gone home with a satisfied smirk after helping Parrish and Derek secure the two 'mad geniuses' in their cells at the sheriff's station-and Deaton had come in the actually secure the two cells so that Stiles couldn't simply use his magic to break them both out-Sheriff Stilinski made the mistake of wandering back into the area with the two cells, and...well, we all know the rest of the story, so let's spare that retelling...

...For the greater good.