Stiles slams the cover of about the twentieth dusty medieval book shut and slouches down in his chair with a sigh. He swipes at the dust cloud swirling in front of his face. Derek sits up from his slumped over position to wipe the sleep from his eyes. He sees Stiles glaring at him.
"You know what we have to do," Stiles says.
"No," Derek grunts.
"Derek, come on. I haven't found one single shred of help in these books. Deaton is the only one who could possibly explain what's up with all of this." Stiles gestures wildly to himself.
"No, Stiles."
"Listen, sour wolf. We are stuck here for the foreseeable future since the magic can't be undone and all that. We are going to have to go out in public at some point! Deaton's is the perfect place to start. He probably even knows we're here already. That man always knew way too much."
"And if Scott's there?" Derek deadpans. "How are you going to explain yourself. We haven't even come up with a plausible explanation as to why we're here yet."
"This is Scott we're talking about, or at least an extension of him. Do you remember him when you first met us? I'm four years older, Derek. Come on! A riddle from Deaton is better than the gigantic goose egg we have found in this library. He might even help with the back story crap. He has resources in any universe, dude."
Derek gets up with a huff, nods once, and leaves the room. Stiles fist pumps the air in triumph. He quickly fumbles out from behind his stack of books and follows Derek's brisk pace through the house. Talia and Laura are on the porch watching Peter's kids, with any luck they can hitch a ride into town. He catches up to Derek just as he walks out the front door.
"Done researching already?" Talia asks from the swing.
The breeze is cool as it whips across the porch and through Talia's and Laura's hair.
"We need to talk to Deaton," Stiles blurts and Derek glares at him.
"I was wondering when you would be bringing up Deaton. Laura can take you into town, but until we figure out a way to explain your presence try and stay hidden; especially from the Sheriff. Scott and your other friends may not recognize you, but your father will."
Stiles doesn't bother to mention that his father is dead. He knows he would probably jump the Sheriff if he saw him anyway. He respects Derek for the sheer amount of control he exhibits around these people that are so like the ones he lost. Stiles has never said anything but he sees the sad look on Derek's face when he watches them. Being here is hard on his Alpha.
"We can take the Camero," Laura says as she jumps over the porch railing.
Stiles slaps Derek on the arm. "Dude, your sister totally stole your car in this universe."
Derek pushes Stiles down the last step. "She didn't steal it. It was always hers first."
Stiles slides into the backseat. Laura doesn't say much as she cranks up the engine and pulls out of the drive. Stiles picks at a loose thread on his shirt.
"So, I know you guys have known each other for a long time, but how long have you been friends? From the things you told me and Mom it didn't sound like you got along very much in the beginning." Laura asks as she turns onto the main road.
Derek snorts from the front seat whiles Stiles grins.
"When we first met he was lucky I didn't rip his throat out with my teeth," says Derek.
"He was lucky I didn't leave his little werewolf ass in the road to die," supplies Stiles with a smirk gracing his features. Laura furrows her brow as she glances at him in the review mirror. Stiles just lets a small smile settle on his face. "After we realized we worked better on the same team, and Derek learned that killing everything wasn't the answer things got easier."
Laura looks thoughtful as they turn out onto the main road.
"Did you ever think that being the only ones left would ever be a possibility?" she asks after a moment.
Derek frowns while turning his gaze out the tinted window.
"I always saw losing them as a possibility. Thinking that we would all make it into old age wasn't practical, but I never thought the universe would be kind enough to let me keep someone like Stiles. If I had my pick of anyone to do this with it would be Stiles. I loved our pack, but out of everyone I have always trusted Stiles the most."
Stiles' face heats up at the admission. He smiles wide as he reaches around the seat to squeeze his Alpha's shoulder. Derek trusts him. Stiles can see it in the way Derek's shoulders relax in his presence, and how he can fall asleep before him. Hearing Derek say it out loud—hearing him sound proud about it? Well, that makes Stiles' stomach go all warm and fuzzy.
When they reach Deaton's office Laura parks in front and cuts the engine. Stiles and Derek look at the building with unreadable expressions. The last time they had been here they watched the last of their pack die. The scene plays in their minds. Laura sits quietly out of respect, waiting for them to make the first move.
When Stiles clears his throat Derek opens the door and they both climb out of the car. Laura leads the way, her long stride more confident with every step. She pauses briefly at the door with her hand on the handle.
"I hear more than one person inside. Are you sure you guys are ready for this?" she questions quietly.
Stiles glances at Derek and takes a deep breath.
"We can't back out now."
Derek rests a hand on Stiles' shoulder, "What is important is that we talk to Deaton."
Laura nods once before pulling the door open. The bells jingle harshly as they file in. The lobby looks exactly the same, even the mountain ash gate. Derek allows the door to softly swing shut behind him. He stands closely behind Stiles waiting for either Deaton or Scott to emerge from the back.
Stiles' heart is beating hard and fast as his eyes dart around the room. They hear the sounds of a dog barking in the back and a muffled voice growing closer. Both of them cringe at the voice not low enough to belong to Deaton. Derek steps closer, aligning himself flush against Stiles' back. Laura tenses next to them when Scott emerges from behind the door. As his scent hits Derek's nose he understands why. Scott is already a wolf.
Stiles recognizes the stiffening of Scotts muscles and the flash of his eyes. In has been so long since he has seen Scott incapable of controlling his wolf, but he recognizes it all the same. Scott drops the clipboard he had been holding when Laura growls menacingly, her eyes flashing gold.
"Laura, stop," Derek snarls his own eyes glowing red. "He isn't a threat."
Laura narrows her gaze at Derek. "You don't know that. He could've already joined the Alpha."
Scott steps forward looking right at Laura. "What's an Alpha?"
"This is obviously a new development," Stiles interrupts, "Cora has classes with him, she would have noticed."'
Scott's eyes linger on Laura for only a brief moment before his gaze zeros in on Stiles. His brown eyes widen comically. Then Stiles is breaking because Scott is breaking. The wolf in front of them is frozen to his spot behind the gate as he stares at someone who looks remarkably like his deceased best friend.
"Sorry," Scott says and shakes his head. "You look a lot like someone I knew."
Stiles really want to say something anything, but he just keeps staring at Scott and his stupid shaggy hair. He wants to tell him he is just a distant cousin, but looking at Scott all he can see is part of the best friend he lost. He feels Derek tense at his back, but he leans into the muscle, grabbing Derek's hand. The movement doesn't escape Scott's attention.
"Stiles?" Scott asks in astonishment.
Scott barrels through the open gate and wraps his arms around them both because Derek is refusing to move. It is awkward and one of his hands is still tangled in Derek's, but this Scott isn't letting that stop him.
"Dude, you're supposed to be dead! How are you here?" His voice is muffled because it's crammed into the space between Derek's and Stiles' shoulders. "Why are you with a Hale and," he looks to Derek and then leans back slightly to look at Stiles, "a guy with a matching tattoo? Wait. You have a tattoo?" an eyebrow disappears under his fringe of hair.
"I'm sorry, but I'm not who you think I am," Stiles say softly.
Scott flings himself back in horror. "Oh, god! First the hearing, then the smells, and the waking up in the woods, now I'm hallucinating!"
Stiles leans back further into Derek, seeking the warmth and comfort of his pack mate. The disappointment and sorrow in Scott's eyes sits sourly in his stomach. He hates seeing the raw grief that mirrors his own. Derek's warm breath at his ear is comforting, and he gladly welcomes the heavy hand on his shoulder.
"You aren't hallucinating. I'm not him—we're different people, but I guess I'm part of him, in a way," Stiles tries to explain.
Deaton appears from the back. His eyes are dark with curiosity as he looks between Stiles and Derek.
"Perhaps we should take this conversation to the back," he says as he steps around the group and flips the open sign over to closed. He motions for them to walk through the gate and eyes Derek and Stiles as they walk past Scott. He greets Laura with a smile and a questioning glance.
"It's a long story, but it's legitimate." Deaton raises a brow. "We have offered them reprieve and a place alongside our pack for the foreseeable future."
Deaton nods and escorts her back. They gather around the exam table.
"Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on?" Scott demands weakly.
"Were you bitten by something recently, Scott?" Laura asks.
He is quiet as he looks between all of them. Deaton places a firm hand on his shoulder.
"I was on a date Friday with Allison," He begins. "She was teaching me about archery and this red–eyed thing came charging out of the woods." Scott absently rubs at the wound Stiles knows has long healed. "Allison shot at it but it was too fast. It bit my side."
Derek looks to Laura, his expression serious.
"Has Chris trained her, Laura?" He inquires.
Laura nods once.
"He started a little over four months ago. He hasn't called about Scott though, which means that Allison has kept it to herself."
"She hasn't talked to me since it happened. She was really freaked out. She told me not to tell anyone." Scotts eyes go wide. "Wait, do you guys know what bit me? Am I going to die?"
Laura gives Scott the werewolf talk. He takes it much better than last time when Stiles broke the news. Perhaps it is because she can offer him valid proof in the way of fangs and missing eyebrows.
"So, I'm a werewolf," he says blankly, "and Allison knows, but didn't tell her father because she is freaked out that he might kill me because her family hunts us."
"Chris wouldn't kill you," Laura amends. "He follows the code. If I had to guess she hasn't told him because she needs time to process it. You both have been dating for quite some time. I'm sure she will come around."
"Okay, so who are you?" Scott looks over to Stiles and Derek with a sad frown.
Derek talks this time around while Stiles sticks close to his side. Explaining the events has gotten easier, but neither of them can talk about their lost pack without their voices breaking or tears threatening to spill over. By the end Laura is watching Derek and Stiles with sympathetic eyes. Deaton is intrigued and Scott, well, Scott doesn't really know what to feel.
Deaton strokes his chin as he walks into another room. He returns holding a dusty, leather bound book. It is the same book that used to be covered in their blood, lying on the roots of the Nemeton. He lays it on the exam table.
"I have this on loan from the Hale vault. I had a feeling I would need it."
Stiles rolls his eyes. Of course he had a feeling.
Deaton flips through the book quickly and stops on a yellowed page with the rune splashed across it in dark red ink. "The rune you used has one purpose; to appeal for a second chance," Deaton says. "That chance does not have to be granted."
"We were willing to try anything," Derek says.
"You carved the rune into each other before you died and were resurrected here in this universe which means, you have a purpose here. I am curious to know how you managed to travel together though. What were you thinking about before you died?"
Stiles and Derek exchange a brief glance.
"I was thinking about everybody that was killed because of my stupid decisions. I wanted to be able to see my mother again. To help Erica, Isaac, and Boyd the right way. To protect Scott and Stiles from being killed by whatever the hell was hunting us. That if the rune worked I didn't want to be alone. How sorry I was that I was dying before Stiles and leaving him there." Derek is looking at the floor, but Stiles nudges him in the ribs and offers him a close lipped smile.
"And what about you, Stiles?"
Stiles scratches his neck and shrugs. "Our Deaton said that we needed to believe we deserved a second chance. I was thinking about my Dad and how he didn't deserve to die. I was thinking how shitty it was that Kate had to kill Derek's family and how different everything would have been if she had been stopped." Stiles takes a deep breath and avoids Scotts eyes. "About how Allison must have felt when she died in Scott's arms." Derek wraps an arm around Stiles' shoulders.
"And the last thought you remember having?" Deaton presses.
"I wanted to follow Derek." The wolf holds him a little tighter and Stiles relaxes against his side.
"The ritual of carving the rune needs to include a member with magical ability, which means that Stiles holds a significant reserve of magical energy."
Laura steps up from her place in the back of the room.
"Could power like that explain the strength needed to break the arm of an Alpha werewolf and Stiles being able to feel the pack bonds and heal like Derek?"
"Most definitely. Your magic is a living force inside of you, Stiles. You feel the pack bond because you want to, and you heal faster because you need to."
"And the fact that we don't want to let each other out of sight for more than an hour?" Derek inquires.
"You just lost your pack, Derek. Stiles is the only pack member you have left. The magic of the pack bond doesn't differentiate between human and wolf in times like these. The need to be constantly near one another will fade with time or the rebuilding of your pack. I take it you have not joined the Hales?"
"No, we uh—we are very grateful to them—"
Derek cuts off Stiles' attempt to explain, "They have offered, but we feel it better if we keep to ourselves for the time being. Right now we are more concerned with just how alike your world is to ours in regards to the future."
Deaton sighs and crosses his arms.
"The future is unwritten, Derek. You know that. You asked for a second chance and it has been granted. I'm afraid that is all I can tell you."
"Alright, how about why your Stiles died from a non—supernatural cause and I am perfectly fine."
"Running off of the assumption that the worlds are parallel, I would say that your magic saved you. Your magic seems to be founded in belief, from what you have told me. You were constantly believing you and your friends would survive; that you would somehow make it through no matter what. Our Stiles had no reason to think that. He had no knowledge of the supernatural and therefore never had an opportunity to develop his magic."
"Shit, Stiles died because he never knew about the supernatural? This is going to kill the Sheriff," Laura says.
"In no way are we telling him that theory. No way," Stiles says firmly.
"Just because this Stiles has magic does not mean that our Stiles did. There is unfortunately no way to know," Deaton explains.
"What are we going to tell everyone?" inquires Laura. "I mean, obviously were going to have to let Sheriff in on the whole parallel universe bit, but Stiles can't just come back from the dead. Maybe, if he had been missing and not died in the middle of Mr. Harris' Chemistry class."
Stiles flails widely and gives Scott an horrified look.
"Are you serious? Mr. Harris was the last person he saw?"
Scott appears to be torn between a laugh and a sob. He clears his throat. "He was right in the middle of a lecture. We were talking and he uh—well he was being Harris. You-Stiles was in the middle of a smart-ass remark and he—he just sort of stopped. He put his head in his hands and then he was just gone, dude. Jackson almost cried. Harris did cry."
Stiles walks over to Scott and before he can say anything Scott is wrapped around him like an octopus. Stiles holds on tight.
"I'm sorry you lost him."
"Yeah, but having you here, dude, it kind of like getting a piece of him back," Scott mumbles quietly. "I mean we probably have some of the same childhood memories right?"
Stiles pulls back and gives Scott a small shove. "Do you remember the time you were in your kitchen when you were like five and you thought that you and Stiles could make cookies on your own?"
"And mom came in and Stiles was covered in a half a bag of flour and like six eggs?"
"She was so pissed!"
Stiles and Scott are laughing now when Derek comes up behind Stiles and tugs him back possessively. He flails while making a squeak of protest, but he quickly shuts up when he senses Derek's unease. His arms rest across Derek's.
"Use your words, big guy."
"You're starting to smell like a strange wolf. I don't like it," Derek grunts.
Stiles laughs but rests his back against Derek's chest. The Alpha sighs contentedly, a rumble moving through his chest that Stiles vows to ask him about later.
He looks at Scott, "You are taking this much better than my Scott did."
Scott shrugs, "I think it's easier knowing I have other wolves willing to help me through it."
"You better believe it," Laura confirms. "This is our territory, which makes us responsible for you despite who bit you. We will teach you how to control the shift. It will take some time, but I'm certain you will pick it up. Just try not to kill anyone in a blind rage."
Scott gulps and nods firmly. Deaton sighs and checks his watch.
"I'll speak to some of my contacts and see if I can't get a couple of sets of forged papers for Derek and Stiles. Long lost members of the Hale and Stilinski families would be the best route since I would assume you both want to at least keep your last names. Derek can keep his first name as well, seeing how common it is, but Stiles…"
Stiles winces, "Yeah, yeah I know. Just pick something Polish and I'll pass it off. We need to go talk to Talia about the Sheriff. If Scott recognized me then he totally will."
"Dude, you definitely look older, and you—you move differently, like your always on alert. You're calmer than our Stiles, but I don't know. You have his eyes, man. I just sort of knew it was you. I don't think anyone else will make the connection if you claim older cousin, or you know, love child."
Stiles face palms. "Jesus Christ! We cannot say I'm the Sheriff's love child. Just—no."