Derek's old room had long been turned into a guest bedroom. The only spare room as they soon learned, but the bed is roomy and they don't particularly care. The sun is still streaming in through the windows as they crawl under the plain blue covers. They both feel as if they have been awake for days. Stiles' muscles ache and magic from the ritual still lingers on his skin, a restless tingle.

Derek doesn't bother to strip down. He doesn't even take off his socks. Stiles takes the hint easily enough. If something goes wrong they need to be able get out of here as fast as possible. He slips of his shoes and makes sure they are in reach for a quick getaway. Derek has taken the left side of the bed thus Stiles settles in on the right. With Derek's comforting presence beside him, Stiles drops off into sleep almost immediately despite not being in the middle of the mattress.

The sun has long sunk below the horizon when Stiles wakes to a hand shaking his shoulder. There is a draft in the room causing Stiles to sleepily clutch the covers closer. Grunting, he looks up at Derek. His head is cocked to the side, the moonlight casting sharp shadows across his face. Derek places a finger to his own lips as he looks down at him.

"Peter thinks our being here is a coven's idea of a joke. They must have had dealings with one in the past that didn't go to well." Derek's voice is soft enough that Stiles has to struggle to hear it.

He rolls his eyes and sits up to glance at the clock, which is unhelpfully unplugged. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he blinks over at Derek, who he notes is rubbing absently at his chest.

"Cora thinks you might be a clone," Derek whispers amusedly.

"Of course Cora would be the one to come up with that idea." Stiles chuckles and throws the covers off to slip on his shoes. "Come on, we better go face the music." He lowers his voice below werewolf hearing levels. "We're stuck here so we might as well check seeing Uncle Crazy off the list of things we wish we didn't have to do."

Derek nods solemnly and gets out of the bed with a huff.

"It's about four in the morning," he says as he gazes out of the window. "Looks like we slept for a long time."

"Why are they up so early?" Stiles asks incredulously.

"They probably never went to sleep. There is a strange Alpha in their house with someone who smells an awful lot like a witch. Would you have slept?"

"Point taken. Come on, sour wolf. Don't doddle."

Derek shoves him out into the hall with the corners of his mouthed ticking up slightly. Stiles counts it as a win.

The house is eerily quiet. The silence makes him want to tiptoe down the staircase but he refrains knowing everyone would hear him anyway. Derek pulls him protectively behind his body once they reach the landing. His shoulders are tense and Stiles can tell he is stressed. He supposes he would be too if he was about to face a room full of people who looked just like the one he lost.

Peter glares at them from the fireplace when they walk in side by side, Stiles refusing to be stuck behind Derek like a child. Laura and Talia smile softly while everyone else eyes them warily. Stiles wishes that Derek had given him the low down on his family during all the time he had know him, but unfortunately he is looking around at several faces he has no way of putting a name to.

"I don't think you can clone someone and make them older, Cora," says a boy from the sofa next to her. Stiles thinks he can't be any older than thirteen.

Cora slaps him hard in the arm.

"Shut up, Ben," she snaps.

"I was just sayin'!" Ben defends as he rubs his arm. "Keep your wolf strength to yourself. I'm gonna have a bruise."

Talia gives them a firm look and they quickly look down to their laps. Stiles wonders if that was the look Derek always tried for and failed at during his first time as Alpha.

"Derek, Stiles, this is our family," says Talia. "We have given them the need to know basics of what you provided Laura and I with yesterday."

"But they don't believe it," Derek grunts out eyes locked on a spot on the back wall.

"Uh," Stiles starts as he scratches the side of his neck, "why don't you ask Derek questions? I mean, I think our timelines are pretty similar up until his death; that's obviously when things went wonky."

Peter growls and takes a step forward causing Derek to jerk Stiles roughly behind him and roar loudly. Derek's eyes are crimson and his fangs bared. Stiles peeks around Derek to get a look at the others. He fingers the sliver blade at his waist. They won't win against this many wolves, but they won't go down without a fight either.

Talia looks calm, but she is giving Peter a glare that gives Stiles' the urge to shiver. The rest of the room looks tense but Stiles doesn't think that they plan on attacking. He places a hand between Derek's shoulder blades, rubbing over the triskele tattoo he knows lies beneath the fabric.

"Easy, big guy. Come on, wolfing out now, would be a terrible idea."

Derek slowly comes out of his crouch, but he keeps Stiles tucked safely behind him. Stiles doesn't bother protesting this time, knowing his protests would only show weakness in Derek's ability to control his pack. He gazes over Derek's shoulder at Peter.

"Listen, man, we have spent the last few years fighting everything our universe could think to throw at us. So, growling and lunging probably isn't such a good idea right now."

Peter takes a step back, but he doesn't look pacified. "How can we trust someone who claims to be Derek if he will attack pack over an outsider. Can you even control the power of an Alpha?"

Derek's muscles tense under Stiles' long fingers again. His voice isn't harsh when he speaks, but it is teetering precariously on the far end of calm. "Stiles is my pack. I never claimed to be your Derek. He is dead just like my family is dead. The sooner you accept that, the better off we will be."

"Derek is right we are not the pack he lost and he is not the cub we laid to rest," says Talia. "But that doesn't mean that he and Stiles cannot find a home here with us."

Peter rolls his eyes. "Fine," he scoffs, "but he inherited the Alpha power recently. Can he control it or are we going to end up as chew toys?" He eyes Derek, his smirk unsettling.

Derek growls lowly at the challenge, but doesn't rise to the bait. Stiles steps closer bringing himself almost flush against his Alpha's back. The heat generating between them is calming, and Derek relaxes minutely.

"Our Alpha was a true Alpha," Derek replies. "He never killed to come to power but instead rose from his own strength of character. He may have been a bitten wolf, but he taught me what I never had the chance to learn from my family. He taught me how to lead. I wouldn't inherited his power if he hadn't thought I could handle it. I trust in his dying decision."

Laura steps up next to Peter and punches him hard in the shoulder. The younger siblings giggle.

"Agh! What the hell was that for?" he exclaims while grabbing his shoulder.

"For being a dick," she says simply. "Keep doing it and I will punch you in the throat," she pauses as she glares evilly, "or worse."

Peter takes a deep breath and rolls his eyes again. A blonde steps up to his side and kisses him lightly on his cheek. Stiles eyes her with interest. Her eyes crinkle at the edges when she smiles back at his critical gaze. He silently wonders how Peter of all people ended up with someone so innocent looking. Then again if he and Derek had learned anything, it was that not everything is as it seems.

"Talia tells us that the ritual you used has marked you," says the man next to Talia. Stiles can only assume it is her husband. "May we see? I have studied ancient magic for quite some time."

Stiles shrugs and tugs the sweatshirt over his head. There is still a sore stiffness to his muscles and he tries not to grimace. Derek pulls off his own sweater as he turns to rest a hand on Stiles' chest. Stiles feels his joints go loose and relax as Derek takes the pain from his sore muscles. He sighs gratefully and finds his fingers tracing the magically inked lines that travel down Derek's arm.

"Oh, wow," says Cora. "They match."

Stiles lets out a small laugh. Cora is so much like Derek it surprises him sometimes.

"The marking is the magic's way of saying that it can never be undone or duplicated," says Talia's husband. "A one shot deal."

"That was what we had been searching for," Stiles says bitterly as he tugs his sweatshirt back on. "Being transported to another universe where our pack is still technically dead however was not."

"Magic cannot bring back the dead, Stiles," he replies.

Stiles eyes Peter with a narrowed gaze. "You'd be surprised." The wolf raises an eyebrow at him but turns his attention back to his brother-in-law.

"I believe the ritual you used is in one of our books. For it to work the caster must hold a great sorrow for events past and have been done a vast unjust by destiny."

Stiles sighs loudly. "That would be the definition of our lives."

"Well, at least they aren't some coven's idea of a sick trick," says Laura as she heads toward the kitchen. "I vote breakfast. Any takers?"

Derek shrugs and tugs his sweater back on as they follow the Hales into the kitchen where Laura and the younger boy, Ben, start pulling ingredients from the shelves.

"Peanut butter and banana pancakes?" Cora asks Derek, a hopeful note in her voice.

Derek smiles softly at her. "Only if you add nuts."

His words cause the kitchen occupants to pause and look at them both. Cora has a fond smile on her face and Talia's eyes are just a little bit shinier.

"I told you that everything is likely to be identical up until his death. No one ever listens to Stiles." Derek nudges him in the side and they take a seat at the bar. If Derek sits closer than normal no one says a thing.

oOo

They have been at the Hale house for over a week come Monday. He and Derek have spent most of their time in the library searching for anything else they could find on the rune they had used in the ritual. No one has said much about the rouge Alpha that is apparently lurking on the outskirts of Beacon Hills, but then again no one has come up with any ideas on integrating Derek and Stiles back into society either. They seem to be giving them time to adjust to their world first.

Stiles has come to notice that he and Derek don't spend very much time apart. Not that they really spent a lot of time away from each other at the end of their past lives either, but it is different now. When Talia offers to clean out the storage room for one of them they both decline. Being away from Derek for more than an hour makes him uneasy let alone sleeping away from him. Derek hadn't admitted as much but when Stiles had been in the library comparing the details of this new universe to their own Derek settled into the chair next to him after only an hour and a half.

Currently Derek is sprawled out on the porch swing with a book, while Stiles has propped himself against the railing next to him with a copy of the Beacon Hills times from 1998. Cora is somewhere in the house sulking about being suspended from school for fighting on Friday. Apparently, grounding was something an Alpha mom was amazing at.

After reading the same sentence for the fifth time in a row Stiles slaps the paper down on the cherry wood of the porch. Derek looks down at him with a raised brow.

"I'm bored! Beyond bored. I didn't know such a non-gritty universe could have a down side but it does, Derek."

"Would you like to go out searching for the Alpha then?" Derek asks calmly.

"Don't even think about it!" calls Talia from the kitchen.

"No, but come on! Entertain me," he all but begs.

Derek sighs and closes his book. He looks at Stiles for a hard moment and grins.

"We've been on vacation from training," he says. "Just because this universe doesn't seem as screwed up as ours doesn't mean it isn't."

"Wanna pick up where we left off?" Stiles asks as he jumps up eagerly.

Excitement is flowing through him as Derek smiles and somersaults off the railing. He leads the way to the backyard. Stiles places his hand on the hilt of the dagger still tucked at his waist as they walk. Even now he doesn't dare go anywhere without it. Derek doesn't fight fair, but none of the opponents he has fought ever have. The werewolf tugs off his shirt and tosses it a few feet away.

Stiles grins when Derek crouches a few feet away. This was the first move they had started with. When Derek leaps, Stiles lunges toward him and slides under his body before Derek's claws can graze him. He pulls himself to his feet quickly, eyes always staying locked on Derek.

"Really? You think I have regressed that far? I'm appalled, big guy."

"I noticed you have lost a bit of muscle. I thought I would go easy on you until you got back up to speed."

Stiles glares at him. Since they had been training Stiles had bulked up a bit. He would never be up to Derek's status, but he had always been a smaller build. The muscle he had gained is a good advantage in a fight, especially when you're a human fighting the supernatural. He didn't like the thought of losing any advantage when it came to their last chance.

"Fight like you mean it, Derek," Stiles demands, voice harsh.

Derek growls and lunges toward him again only this time he doesn't give him room for escape. In the beginning Derek and Chris had taught him how to evade; if he was quick enough than someone could get there to help him before it was too late. Toward the end they moved on to hand to hand combat in case he was ever in a situation when evasion wasn't possible, or if he knew no one was coming.

Stiles drops to a crouch, drawing his weapon. He thrusts his blade toward Derek's shoulder. The metal nicks his tanned skin and allows Stiles to roll away and get to his feet before he comes at him again. Derek grabs his shoulder with human finger tips, but the intent is clear; if this was a real fight a set of claws would be hooked deep right now. Stiles winces but turns and thrusts the elbow of his opposite arm down hard on the arm holding him captive. Derek grunts and Stiles twists himself around until he is at Derek's back with his blade at his throat.

Derek laughs once the tension is broken and Stiles drops to the ground out of breath. Derek drops down beside him and looks at him with a mesmerized expression. Stiles furrows his eyebrows at him and Derek holds his arm up. The limb is bent at such an odd angle that Stiles' eyes wide in surprise.

"Did I?"

"Yeah," Derek says before he snaps the bone back in place, grimacing slightly. "I think you're stronger now that you can feel the bond."

"Huh," Stiles says as he traces along the skin of Derek's newly mended arm. "I guess that's going to come in handy in the future, but I really want to research the hell out of it later."

Derek moves his arm from Stiles' grip and steps backward fangs elongating. He watches the dagger that Stiles weaves quickly through his fingers. His eyes flash to Laura, who stands on the edge of the porch. Stiles angles his head toward her but his gaze is solidly locked on his Alpha. He hears the whistle of the blade as it slices through the air. He ducks back down into a crouch hand reaching up to catch the dagger. Derek gives him an impressed look then turns a crimson glare on Laura.

"I just wanted to see how he would fair with two instead of one," she says innocently from the porch.

She rests her elbows on the banister, a smirk set firmly on her lips. Cora walks out to join her followed closely by Talia. They are studying Stiles, who hasn't taken his eyes off Derek, with curious interest.

"You haven't fought with two daggers in a long time. You prefer just the one remember?"

Suspense curls through the air like smoke as they circle one another. The sun glints off the sliver blades of the mismatched daggers and Stiles smirks.

"I've always thought having a free hand is important," he says. "You know for breaking mountain ash barriers and slapping stupid wolves in the back of the head."

Sadness tinges the edges of the atmosphere. Derek can still see him slapping Scott just before everything went to hell. He can see the smiles on their faces and he can hear Lydia and Kira's laughter. When Stiles lunges Derek isn't prepared for the speed behind move. Stiles tackles him to the ground and Derek rolls them only to find two daggers lightly nicking his sides.

"Clever, but not a kill shot. I would still have time to rip your throat out with my teeth," Derek whispers into his ear.

"No, but when the daggers are laced with wolfsbane the distraction gives me just enough time to do this!"

Derek is thrown off balance by a knee to the groin. He gasps for air as Stiles scrambles out from under him and has his daggers at his throat within seconds. The sun glints off the blades, mirroring on Derek's face. He smiles, nudging the blades away with an index finger.

Applause sounds from the porch and Stiles and Derek blush. The Hales laugh as the retreat into the house.

Stiles places the daggers on the ground and sits shoulder to shoulder with Derek.

"I can practically hear you thinking too hard," Derek says as he gazes into the woods bordering the yard.

Stiles leans further into him.

"I shouldn't be able to break your bones like that, Derek. These bruises shouldn't be healing until weeks later. I can feel you in the back of my mind. I'm not a wolf Derek, but I don't think I'm human anymore either."

Derek is silent for several moments as he continues to look out into the preserve.

"Your scent has changed," he says after awhile. "Magic has always been a part of it, but before I had to search to find. Now, it overwhelms you almost."

"You sure it's magic?"

"Magic has a very distinct scent, like pepper and clay." Derek pauses to look at him. "Do you remember that night at the hospital with Jennifer and the Alpha pack?"

"Yeah, yeah, I remember that. Not one of my best displays of prowess. I remember hitting the twins Alpha form with a wooden bat thinking it might help."

Derek rolls his eyes. "How about when you woke me up in the elevator after Jennifer attacked me?" Stiles nods. "I smelled it on you then too. I don't think anyone else would have been able to wake me up. I think your magic overrode hers."

"Do you think I'm a druid like Deaton? Am I, like, your emissary or something?"

"No. An emissary provides advice to an Alpha, but otherwise have no connection to us because they keep balance. They can't do that if they favor a certain side."

Stiles sighs heavily. "I guess we just have to wait and see like usual."

"We will talk to Talia about it. See if she knows anything that might help." Stiles looks at him with an impressed grin. "We should use our resources. Scott would."

Stiles nods with a sad smile.

"Come on, slacker," Derek demands as he leaps to his feet.

They train until they are both drenched in sweat and the grief for their pack is only a steady ache in the back of their minds. Stiles watches the scrapes on his palms knit back together quicker than what should be possible. Derek grabs his shirt from where it had been lying in the grass and wraps an arm around Stiles' shoulders.

"Whatever you are now, you're healthy. I would be a able to tell if something was life threateningly wrong with you. You smell like you and magic, Stiles. You're safe."

"You've gotten so protective," Stiles teases as he pokes him in the ribs.

Derek pulls him closer, hazel eyes boring into whiskey irises. "We're pack. If anyone so much as threatens you. I will seriously consider ripping out their throat–" Stiles swallows and quickly glances down at Derek's mouth, "with my teeth."

When he looks back Derek's eyes are red and the grip he has around his shoulders tightens.

"That last part is a pack thing," Laura says from the porch beside Talia.

Derek doesn't seem to be surprised at the interruption, but Stiles' heartbeat kicks up several notches. Derek eyes fade back to normal and he loosens his grip, looking to Laura.

"When a wolf loses part of its pack the remaining bonds strengthen to great extents. Especially for an Alpha," she finishes.

"But it doesn't explain why I can feel our pack bond," Stiles says as they ascend the steps. "I'm supposed to be human. Of course maybe dying had some sort of affect on that."

"Not being human might explain how you were able to break an Alpha's bones," Talia comments briskly as she heads back inside.

Derek squeezes Stiles' shoulders as he guides them inside toward the Library. Stiles doesn't particularly care if their new physical relationship is due to strengthened bonds or whatever. He just knows he likes it.