Stiles really wants to say that he is looking forward to gym class, but that would be a bold-faced lie. Allison and Lydia are the two people he is most worried about meeting. Lydia had completely ignored his presence and then skipped lunch with Allison in order to delay meeting Scott's "new friend." According to Scott, neither of them were too keen on meeting him. Stiles suspected each girl had her own reasons. He couldn't blame them—really he couldn't.
Scott meets him halfway to the locker rooms, just as cheerful as ever. Sometimes Stiles wants to punch him, but then he remembers how rare Scott's happy smiles were in the end. He's not going to take them for granted this time around.
"You ready for this, man?" Scott asks as they enter the room.
Jackson glares at him from his locker. Stiles sighs loudly as he starts to undress. He totally isn't ready for this. Not one bit.
"Totally. I can handle the love of your life being ready to murder me, and Lydia's face when she realizes exactly how much I look like him. I'm so ready you don't even know," says Stiles. He jerks Derek's sweater over his head with a frown.
Danny whistles from across the way. Stiles' head snaps in his direction, his mouth falling open in an embarrassing fashion.
"Damn," Danny says with a smile as he looks Stiles up and down.
He goes a bit red and turns away when Danny's eyes settle on the marks centered on his chest. He rubs at them subconsciously and avoids Danny's gaze. Suddenly, he misses Derek even more.
"Ok, seriously, Danny? Could you be more obvious?" Scott asks with an exasperated sigh. "Trust me, dude. This isn't good for your health."
Stiles doesn't even brother to ask Scott what he is talking about. He doesn't want to know. Danny puts up his hands in surrender and turns back to his locker. They dress in relative silence after that. He keeps imagining Lydia's face when she sees him. He isn't her Stiles, no matter how much he might look like an older version of him. He feels just the slightest bit guilty that his presence is causing her more grief, but it is a small price to pay if it saves their world from ending up like his and Derek's.
Scott and Stiles are the last to exit the locker room. When they walk out the doors, Stiles spots Allison waiting down the hall. She is looking straight at him, her eyes hard. He stops dead. Scott looks back at him in confusion before looking back at Allison in recognition. He steps between them, but that doesn't stop Allison from coming closer. Her steps are long and forceful. He can tell just by the way she looks at him that she has been training much longer than his own Allison.
She doesn't see how much he looks like her lost friend. She is assessing a threat. A threat to Scott and her friends. He gets that. To Allison, Stiles and Derek are creatures she has been taught to be weary of and to kill if the need arises.
She stops only inches away from Scott, who is looking slightly green. A worried frown is plastered over his face. Allison is the girl he loves –has loved for years–but Stiles is pack. He is part of a person that Scott thought he had lost forever. Scott won't take either of them being hurt well, but especially not if they hurt each other.
"You're part of the pack seeking refuge with the Hales. You are the Alpha's second," she says firmly.
Stiles squares his shoulders and stands at his full height. The title she has given him doesn't seem quite right, but he doesn't correct her, unsure of exactly how he would define his position in their pack. He feels more like Derek's equal. Derek listens to him, asks his advice, he doesn't order him around like he would a beta. He can't. No Stiles isn't Derek's second.
Stiles raises his brow. "And you are an Argent hunter."
"And you just conveniently show up with your Alpha after Scott gets bitten," She snaps. Stiles' magic flares, and he pulls it back. By the low whine Scott is making, Stiles knows he felt it. Knows Derek felt it, too. "If I were you, I would think twice about staying here."
Scott straightens at the threat of his pack mate despite the fact that it is Allison who made it. His proverbial heckles rise, and he stares at Allison in disbelief. Stiles places a comforting hand on his shoulder. Allison glances at Scott, her eyes showing just the slightest bit of shock that he is taking Stiles' side.
Out of the corner of his eye, Stiles sees Lydia round the corner and comes to a stop once she sees who Allison is with. Her eyes lock onto Stiles and she seems frozen as she stares at him in astonishment. He wants to say something—acknowledge her presence in some way—but he can't take his attention away from the hunter in front of him.
"Derek isn't the Alpha who bit Scott. I won't lie. We are happy to have him in our pack, but Derek did not bite him. He would never bite someone against their will. We live by a code, just like your family, Argent."
Her gaze snaps back to him, and this time it is ten times fiercer than before. Stiles catches the first hint of her movement and he lets her pin him to the wall, the cold blade of her dagger resting at his throat. She lowers her lips to his ear.
"If you even think about hurting anyone I will kill you both," she whispers.
"Allison, they are my pa—" Scott starts from behind them.
Stiles huffs angrily, and then, in a quick twist of his limbs, he has her on the ground, arms pinned above her head. The knife skitters several feet away, knocked out of her grip in the shuffle. His own blade glints at her jugular.
"Dude!" Scott exclaims from behind them, a whine sounding low in his throat.
"Derek and I mean no harm to anyone. We came here because we lost our pack–our family. We didn't mean to stumble upon this cluster fuck of a disaster, but it happened, and we are trying to help. We have experience with fucked up Alphas. It sucks that Scott was bitten, but it happened, and there is nothing you or any of us can do to change that."
"We consider Scott pack, and we plan to protect him as such. That protection extends to you. Hunter status aside, you are important to Scott, which makes you important to us."
Allison eyes widen slightly and she opens her mouth to respond but closes it quickly. Stiles slowly backs off her and tucks his blade away. He offers her his hand, helping her to her feet. She narrows her eyes at him but nods once in truce. Lydia moves closer to them, her curiosity drawing her in. Her eyes are locked onto Stiles.
"Glad to know I'm not the only one who brings knives to school," Allison says off hand. "Where did you learn to counter like that?" She dusts the dirt off the back of her gym shorts.
Stiles smirks. "I learned how to fight werewolves from the wolves in my pack. I learned how to fight hunters from the hunters in it."
Both Lydia and Allison gape at him.
"There were hunters in your pack?" Allison asks in astonishment.
Stiles nods and spares a glance at Scott, who is pointedly looking away. He knows exactly who the hunters in his pack were and their fate. It is something Scott refuses to talk about, and Stiles can understand that. He, himself, doesn't like talking about it, either.
Stiles thinks about the Allison he knew. Her smiling face flashes in his mind, the memory of her bright eyes and the dimples in her laugh tugging painfully at his heart. Allison and Chris may have had a rather tarnished past when it came to wolves and their pack, but Allison was family. Even when she wasn't with Scott she was still pack, still loved beyond reason by all of them. Her death will always set heavy in Stiles' heart. He knows he didn't kill her, but wounds like that don't heal. He's not simply going to get used to them, so he might as well learn to cherish the good memories.
When Chris came back to Beacon Hills Scott had welcomed him with open arms, and, for some reason, Chris didn't hesitate to carve his own spot into the pack and into their hearts. Immediately pulling Stiles and Lydia into training. Determined that they need to know how to protect themselves from any threat, not just run away. Chris became just as much of pack as Allison had been. His loss hurt just as much. He would go as far to say that it hurt Derek even worse than Allison's.
"Yes, but that was another life and another time."
Allison nods solemnly. "My father has been trying to teach me that move for a week. I can't get the footing right."
Stiles smirks. "Try crossing your right foot over your left instead of the other way around when you swing your arm out."
She frowns for a moment reviewing the move in her mind then smiles wide.
Lydia takes a step closer to Stiles, nudging Allison out of her way. She is only inches from him when the scent of blood hits his nose. His eyes flash to the hand resting on her side. He'll give it to her, she is good at hiding the pain. He can see Scott's eyes go wide out of his peripherals, but quickly places a hand on his arm. When he remains silent Stiles thanks his lucky Stars. Allison does not need to know about this.
She places her free hand to the side of his face. He holds his breath. Lydia's heart speeds up at the contact. He knows she feels a connection to him. Maybe if she hadn't been bitten she wouldn't, but she has been and he knows her banshee instincts are screaming at her that there is something wrong, something unnatural about his presence, but she is silent on the outside. Her long fingers trace along his jaw, and he feels a shiver run up his spine at the contact. Tears are brimming in her eyes, threatening to spill over, but he can't seem to make any words of comfort pass his lips as he stares at her broken heart.
Her hand drops just as Coach comes out of the locker room. The man does a double take when he first sees Stiles. His eyes widen to the size of saucers. He goes a few shades paler, and Stiles manages to tear his eyes away from Lydia.
"I'm his cousin," Stiles explains before Coach can say anything.
"Sweet, merciful, Jesus! I thought I was going insane." Coach looks down at his clipboard with a frown then looks up at Stiles with a sympathetic wince. "They have no mercy in your family."
Stiles shrugs. "Just call me Stilinski, Coach. Everyone else does."
"Whatever. Just don't hurt yourself climbing the wall. Now, go! Go! Go! Go!" He ushers them into the gym. "Everybody shut up!"
Stiles stops short once he enters the gym. Scott runs into his back, shoving him forward a few steps. Stiles balks at the wall in front of them. Just like that, he is taken back to when Erica tried to climb the wall herself only to fall, Scott catching her mid seizure. He remembers excitedly climbing up without even a thought in her direction after Coach had called their names. He hadn't realized how much he regretted that day until this moment.
His rips his eyes from the wall, and they dart around the room in search of Erica. He catches sight of a head of unkempt blond hair amongst the class of students. She is standing toward the back looking at her shoes attempting to make herself as small as possible. Stiles gives Scott a pat on the back and makes a beeline for her.
She doesn't look up when he approaches, but he can tell she notices his presence by the way she wraps her arms around her torso. His heart is constricting at the sight. He remembers his Erica with the heels, the leather, and the cleavage. She was fierce and snarky on the outside, but, on the inside, she remained the same insecure girl from her human days. She never had a chance to learn she could just be herself and still be loved. This time round, he is going to be sure to change that. He has to.
"Wanna be my climbing buddy?" he asks cheerfully.
A friendly smile spreads over his face as he looks at her. She glances up at him from under her lashes only briefly before looking to the rock wall before them.
"I'm not good with heights," she says quietly.
Stiles shrugs, turning to look at the wall, and bumps his shoulder against hers. His magic shutters violently, and he is taken aback for a moment. He can sense the possibility of a seizure hovering under the surface. His hands tremble and he clutches them into fists at his sides. His magic fights him, wanting to wrap around Erica, wanting to protect her from it, but he can't let it. He doesn't want to scare her off.
He is silent for too long, he realizes, when Erica shuffles a step away.
"I'll keep pace with you, and we will hit the buzzer together. Promise," He assures.
She looks at him, surprise clouding her features. The astonishment hurts his heart. Erica is so sweet and shy. She should be someone people fight to be friends with. He doesn't understand why people look at her and see someone to taunt and ridicule for an illness she has no ability to control–an illness that she didn't ask for. Just like Isaac and Boyd, she needs people to show her that she is worthy of befriending. Worthy of being protected. Worthy of being given the honor of pack. Stiles understands Derek's choices more with every passing day, but, most importantly, he respects them.
"I'm Erica," she says, once the surprise is only lingering on the edge of her expression.
He smiles happily at her acceptance, giving her his name, too. His hands tremble again. Before he can stop it, his magic swirls around her, seeking to ease her anxiety, to protect her like he would do for Derek or Scott when they're worried. Derek never says it, but the way he closes his eyes the small smile that stretches across his face make words unnecessary.
"I don't think it is something you do consciously," Scott had said once during training. "It's like you're letting me know you're there for me. That everything is alright and you have my back. It's really comforting, dude."
Erica's breath hitches, and she turns her wide eyes on him. So many people have been looking at him like that lately.
"What did you–" she begins, but stops when Stiles hold a finger to his lips.
"Sorry, um–I'm a little different than most people. Can we leave it at that for now if I promise to explain after lacrosse practice today? Providing that I haven't freaked you out too much?"
"I don't exactly have any room to judge. I'm not exactly normal either," she says sadly and turns her gaze back to the floor.
Stiles places a hand on her shoulder. She looks at him in confusion.
"Well, normal is overrated. I, personally, think you're pretty great, and I would like to explain after practice if you wouldn't mind waiting in the stands."
She looks him for a long moment. Her eyes search his for any sign of a trick. He doesn't fight his magic when it reaches out for her this time. He wraps it around her firmly, kicking away at her anxiety and staving off her illness for the time being. He supposes werewolves can't have all the kicks when it comes to helping out humans.
Her wary expression softens into a smile. She nods once.
"Alright! What do ya say we show these armatures how to climb a big fake rock? Yeah!"
Erica laughs when he punches the air. Something in him relaxes at the sound. Stiles takes her hand and pulls her to the front of the class where Allison and Scott are repelling down from the wall.
"Stilinski!" Coach yells.
"I'm going with Erica!"
"Just go!"
Erica is looking at the wall nervously as Scott hands her the harness. She takes it with shaky fingers. Stiles quickly attaches the one Allison hands him and moves over to help Erica with her own. Her heart is beating like crazy. He doesn't need enhanced senses to tell him that. He tilts her chin up to make her look at him. He is vaguely aware of the class staring at them, but he keeps his attention on Erica.
"You've got this, Catwoman. Just concentrate on getting to the top. I won't let you fall. Trust me, okay? I. Wont. Let. You. Fall."
She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. He listens closely as her heart slows and her hands stop trembling. When she opens her eyes, she is determined. She pulls her wild hair back into a messy bun.
"Don't look down, right?" she confirms, voice steady.
"Exactly."
They start together. Stiles makes sure to keep with her slower pace. It is obvious that she is frightened, but he knows she can do this. Halfway up her breathing becomes irregular, and Stiles can hear the uptick of her heart beat when she pauses and looks down.
"Before we die of old age!" Coach complains from below them.
Stiles maneuvers closer to her, and she sucks in an anguished breath sound on the verge of tears.
"Come on, Catwoman. You can do this," he says.
She clenches her eyes shut when Coach's voice boom up at them again.
"You two are slower than my grandmother! And she's dead!"
Stiles huffs and looks down over his shoulder at the man.
"Coach, I say this with all the respect of someone with respect for you. Shut up, and let her do this at her own pace!" Stiles yells.
Thankfully Coach seems to be shocked more than angry at his outburst. Stiles goes back to ignoring them. He has more important things to deal with at the moment. He shuffles a few inches closer to her.
"Hey, look at me, Erica. Look at me."
She turns her head toward him. He can see the fear on her face, smell it thick in the air. He can hear the low worried whine in Scott's throat as he watches them. Stiles tones his senses down to where it is only him and Erica. She has to know she can do this as a human. She has to know how strong she can be without the extra power he and Derek will offer her in the future.
"Don't give them the satisfaction of seeing you fail. You got this. I'm not gonna let you fall."
She sucks in a breath. Her eyes are red and glassy, tears threatening to spill over. "You promise?"
"Batman always keeps his promises. Now, grab your next hand hold, and follow with your right foot. I'm right beside you."
She obeys Stiles' direction one step at a time. Her spirits lift with every passing inch. When they reach the top, the look on her face is brighter than Stiles had ever seen it in his universe. They press the buzzer at the same time, and Stiles laughs giddily as happiness and accomplishment waft off her in waves.
"Now we just let go. Ready?" he asks.
Erica nods, and they release the wall at the same time. When their feet hit the ground, Erica immediately crashes into him, wrapping her arms around his neck. Stiles takes in her scent. He can smell the sickness under her skin, but hiding underneath is Erica. Not the one they lost but someone just as special. Floral, mixed with something spicy and kind. Hope.
"Thank you!" she says happily in his ear.
Stiles hugs her back as he laughs into her hair. "No problem, Catwoman. I knew you could do it. Come sit with me and Scott?" She looks at him hesitantly. "Come on, him and Allison won't bite. Promise. What do ya say?"
She nods skeptically, and they go over to join Scott and Allison on the bleachers. Allison is giving him a suspicious look while Scott watches him knowingly. He plops down next to Scott. Allison immediately pulls Erica down beside her.
"Great job," Allison says, "At least you didn't fall like Scott over here."
Scott grumbles something and sticks his tongue out at her. The easy going atmosphere has Erica smiling and Stiles is grateful when Allison pulls her into a discussion about girly things that Stiles promptly tunes out.
Scott punches him in the shoulder. "Dude, that was awesome! You calmed her down so quick. For a second, I thought she was going to freak out."
"She was Scott," Stiles says quietly. "And, in my universe, it didn't end very well."
"That bad, huh?"
In his memory, Stiles can see Scott running inhumanly fast to catch Erica. Stiles recalls in vivid detail how she held on to Scott's hand for dear life as she convulsed. Knows it was the last time he saw her human but not the last time he saw her vulnerable. That was what Derek's wolves could never seem to understand. Just because they suddenly had power, it didn't make them invincible.
Isaac maybe understood more than most that power came with equal weakness. He learned the hard way how easy it was for a hunter to corner him. Stiles remembers how that hunter knocked out Stiles' dad and then moved on to kill a wolf who was no more than a teenager. Still, Isaac was too quick to rush into a fight for Derek or Scott or anyone he deemed worthy.
Erica, however beautiful and fierce, sought out any chance to prove herself. Any chance to make everyone realize she wasn't that same weak human as before. It got her into trouble often, just like it did Boyd. Both of them felt the need to prove to everyone that they were worthy of attention. Boyd with lacrosse and Erica with her looks. They never took the time to realize how dangerous a power trip could be. No one ever showed them how special they were as humans.
Stiles and Derek are determined not to let history repeat itself.
"You have no idea," Stiles says, solemnly. "The full moon is tomorrow. I've got Isaac coming over under the pretense of self-defense lessons against Jackson, and Erica has been lured in with the promise of me explaining what I did when I accidently let my magic wrap around her earlier. We can count on you to be there, too, right?"
Scott nods seriously and glances to the rock wall where Lydia is climbing. They watch as she favors her side, falling behind Jackson.
"I'm guessing you're going to confront her later?" Scott asks.
"Yep. Not looking forward to it, but I'd bet you a month's worth of curly fries that's the bite of an Alpha she is hiding. Keep that to yourself, though, until I can confirm it."
Scott nods in promise as they watch Lydia and Jackson descend from the wall. At least this time, Stiles knows Jackson isn't unwittingly plotting the death of the swim team. This place does have some comforts. Stiles looks around and takes in their faces. None of it seems real. They look so much like his old pack. Part of them is, but he still can't wrap his mind around it. Panic nips at the edges of his thoughts.
What if this isn't real?
What if this all something he has cooked up in the depths of his mind?
What if he is still under the control of the nogitsune, and this is some new sick way of torturing him?
Derek's presence rushes to the forefront of his mind, tugging him out of his thoughts. His shoulders relax a little, but he longs to be closer. He needs to be able to touch him, hear his voice, know that all of this is real and not in his head. Scott places a hand on his shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze.
Stiles' magic flares softly, a warm feeling rising in the pit of his stomach at the comfort of pack as well as Derek's fast approaching presence. He can practically feel Scott's eyes roll as Stiles hurriedly makes his way out of the gym.