oOo
Stiles collides firmly with Derek when he rushes out the side door of the gym. He wraps his arms around his sweater clad shoulders and hangs on. The faint thrum of anxiety Stiles has been feeling all day comes to an abrupt halt as he relaxes into the warm expanse of Derek's chest. He pulls back only slightly to watch Derek wrinkle his nose at him. Stiles tries really hard not to find it adorable. He fails miserably.
"You smell like other people," Derek says, petulantly, as he pulls Stiles roughly back into his chest.
Stiles tightens his arms around Derek. He presses his nose into his shoulder and breathes in deeply. "God, I've missed your stupid werewolf ass so much today. You have no idea," Stiles says.
Derek rubs his nose over the pulse point of Stiles' neck. His breath is hot against throat as he speaks. "After Laura dropped you off, she caught scent of the Alpha nearby. I've been helping to run territory sweeps. I couldn't concentrate on anything but the fact that you were here without any protection."
Stiles chuckles. "Never thought I would hear you say that. Anyway, I can hold it off long enough for you or someone else to get here, and I have Scott."
"Yes, Stiles, you have Scott before he has gained full control over his abilities. That is beyond comforting. What if no one gets there in time? What if I don't realize you're in trouble until it's too late?" By the end Derek's voice has gone soft and his fingers are wound tightly in the grey fabric of Stiles' gym shirt. "I can't do this without you."
"I'm not going anywhere, Derek." Stiles pulls back to look at him again. "You're going to know if I'm in trouble. I'm magic now, remember?"
Derek goes about nosing against Stiles' neck once more. Stiles doesn't bother to protest or hurry him along. He rubs his hands up and down the expanse of Derek's back letting his own scent cling to his alpha. He loves how Derek trusts him enough to get this close. He loves how irritated Derek is when his scent fades or mixes with Scott's or Laura's. Stiles clings to him, enjoying this moment for a little while longer.
Derek rumbles contentedly, satisfied that all the other scents lingering on Stiles' skin from the day have been overpowered by his. The sound of Coach's whistle from inside brings him out of the peaceful moment.
"I'm all for scent marking," Stiles says as his fingers continue trace up and down the muscles of Derek's back, "but we have a bit of an issue."
Derek pulls back only to raise his brows in question, his hands still tangled in the grey fabric of Stiles' shirt.
"I think Lydia has been bitten."
Derek's grip tightens, and Stiles knows it is going to wrinkle.
"Are you sure?"
"I think I know what a—"
Derek goes rigid. His gaze is fixed over Stiles' shoulder. Stiles attempts to turn in his grip, but Derek growls low in his chest, pulling him flush against his body.
"Der—what? What the hell?" Stiles rips himself from Derek's grip and turns around in one swift motion. "Who—"
The words get lodged in Stiles throat as his eyes land on Chris Argent. He looks nothing like the Chris Stiles remembers. The man standing before them now looks lighter, untouched by the tragedies their own Chris had faced. His blue eyes are light, his face much younger than what Stiles remembers. The Chris from their universe had been through so much, aging him before his time. The man before them now doesn't know what it is like to have his family killed one by one. This Chris is arrogant. His shoulders pulled back as he looks down his nose at them. He is a threat.
"Well, hell. I didn't see this one coming," Stiles exclaims.
He throws his hands in the air, exasperated. He notices Chris' hand move to the gun resting at his waist. Stiles bets if he were to sniff the air hard enough he would smell the wolfsbane.
"You do realize you're on school grounds, right?" Stiles adds. "I mean, you can't shoot us here—not that we've done anything to constitute you shooting us."
Chris clears his throat but doesn't remove his hand from the shining metal at his belt. "When Allison told me there was another pack in town, I assumed you were only passing through. She has informed me that you plan on staying?"
Derek rests a hand on Stiles' shoulder, his gaze still locked on Chris. Stiles knows that Derek and Chris became something akin to friends. They saved each other's lives, forgiving one another for the wrongs they had committed, and now Derek would have to hate him all over again by the looks of things. Stiles can feel the mixed emotions rolling off Derek —pain, grief, anger—so Stiles places a calming hand between his shoulder blades.
"I'm a distant family member of the Hales, and my pack mate happens to be of relation to the Sheriff here," replies Derek. "We came here seeking refuge after the loss of our pack. Talia has agreed to share territory with us, and we simply wanted to see if we could negotiate treaty options."
"I don't see why you are asking for an audience when you have already been recruiting. Allison tells me that Scott has joined you. Quite conveniently as it happens," says Chris, his voice hard and accusing.
Stiles narrows his eyes at the hunter. The obvious accusation makes his anger rise and his magic threaten to lash out in retaliation. Derek leans into him, a silent plea for him to stay calm.
"When Talia informed us that there was a recently bitten omega in the area, we reached out. Talia's pack is mostly all blood relation except for their mates. While they have a responsibility to any bitten wolves in the territory we wanted to offer Scott a chance to join a pack where he might be more comfortable. He has accepted."
Allison and Scott walk out of the gym. Chris takes his hand off of his gun. The pair of them freeze, glancing between the three. Scott looks torn as Allison goes to stand by her father. The tension is palpable in the air. Their eyes meet for a brief moment before Scott makes a decision that will change their relationship.
He takes his place at Derek's side, next to his Alpha. Allison's shoulders go stiff as her eyes follow him. To an outsider it looks like a simple decision, but to Allison and Scott it is as if a battle line has been drawn between them. Allison's eyes harden for a brief moment before she turns a glare on her father.
"Dad?" she asks, pointedly. "What are you doing here?"
Chris looks as if he puts every muscle in his face to work as he stifles an eye roll. "Allison, when my daughter informs me that another Alpha has recruited her newly turned boyfriend into his pack what else do you expect me to do?"
Allison takes a step closer, looking up at her father with demanding eyes. "Trust me when I say that they are not an immediate threat and you should grant them an opportunity."
Scott looks confused at the exchange, but Stiles and Derek, on the other hand, understand why she is upset. She is one of the matriarchs of the Argent family. The decision had been given to her, but Chris is disputing it. Her fists are clenched at her sides, heartbeat beginning to rise.
"If they aren't a threat, then why were they so quick to recruit new members?" asks Chris critically.
All eyes land on Derek and Stiles. Derek's face is grim, and Stiles shuffles just a bit closer to him. The air around them is heavy, grief-filled. Scott scrunches his nose at the scent. He knows the true story and, even though he didn't know them then, he knows Stiles and Derek now, so their grief is his. He proudly rests a hand on Derek's shoulder in show of support of his Alpha.
"Our pack was killed. Preyed upon for no reason," Derek says. "The power of Alpha passed to me. My pack mate and I only wish for a fresh start. I will never bite someone who doesn't know what this life entails."
"Talia has agreed to share her territory with another Alpha?" Chris asks in disbelief.
Stiles looks around catching the eyes of several passing students. "Guys, why don't we continue this little conversation somewhere that blissfully, ignorant, human, students and teachers can't hear? 'Cause I sure as hell don't want to be the one that has to explain the kind of supernatural hell that happens in this universe."
The tension breaks as the noise and surroundings come back to them. Class has let out. Lydia and Jackson are watching them from behind the glass of the gymnasium doors. Stiles doesn't particularly want to know if Jackson knows about the supernatural, but, at the same time, he doesn't think it's possible Jackson is still ignorant to it at this point.
Chris lays a hand on Allison's shoulder before he leaves. After a couple of moments, Stiles hears an SUV roar to life in the distance. Derek relaxes next to him. Chris is gone.
Allison doesn't smile as she approaches Scott. Her shoulders are tense, and her eyes sad but determination surrounds her. Stiles sees the sorrow in her eyes. She doesn't want to have to do this, and it is breaking her heart. But what surprises Stiles is that she doesn't look close to tears. The Allison he knew would have been fighting them with everything she had, but the tears would have still slipped through. The woman before them now if different. Dangerous in her own right. The thought causes a shiver to run down Stiles' spine.
"You are important to me, Scott, but I'm still an Argent," she says roughly. "Until we come to an agreement between your pack and our family, I can't see you."
Scott whines low in his throat. He has been with Allison for years in this universe. Seeing her walk away because he chose to stand with his pack is devastating. Stiles is angry at her. He knows why she did it, and he almost understands. Seeing his pack member hurt, though, doesn't make it okay. He wants to grab her by the shoulders and make her understand that they aren't a threat and that she doesn't have to break Scott's hear like this. He reigns it in, though, as he watches in silence instead.
"But Allison—" he starts.
"We'll figure something out," she whispers as her lips ghost over his cheek. "I love you. That hasn't changed, but I can't go against my family when you are siding with an Alpha we don't know or trust. It will be safer if we are apart until this is settled."
The unspoken 'if' hangs in the air. She doesn't spare a glance at Stiles and Derek. She doesn't give Scott a chance to argue with her decision, either. She turns her back to them and walks confidently back into the gym, flashing Jackson and Lydia a reassuring smile as she passes.
The heart broken look on Scott's face twists deep inside Stiles' heart. This Scott shouldn't know the pain of losing Allison in any way. He knows Scotts mind is playing over what happened in Stiles and Derek's universe, wondering if this is even an inkling of what having her die in his arms would have felt like. Wondering if maybe they weren't meant to be together like they had always thought.
Stiles hates that he has to go through this. He clutches Derek's wrist tightly, nodding in Scott's direction. Derek frowns as he, too, watches Scott gaze after Allison. He rubs at Scott's shoulder. Scott looks up at him with sad eyes. Derek offers him an encouraging grin. At least this Scott knows he has a pack to help him through it.
Stiles exhales loudly and leans back into Derek, knowing he will take care of the situation in time. Derek wraps one of his arms around Stiles' chest. He pulls Scott in by the nape of his neck with his other one. Having each Stiles and Derek close helps Scott's shoulders loosen. Stiles pokes Scott in the ribs. The tension immediately drops out of them when Scott laughs, the sound lighter than expected.
Jackson and Lydia emerge from behind the gym doors, back in their street clothes. Stiles, Derek, and Scott break apart. Derek glances toward the woods, probably thinking about meeting up with Peter.
"I'll be close by. Don't hurt anyone," he says with a smirk then saunters away.
Stiles watches Derek's retreating form get smaller, but his attention is soon stolen.
"Was he talking to you or me?" Scott questions.
"I was about to ask the same thing," Lydia says as she approaches, one eyebrow raised dangerously high. "Who was that beautiful man you were all over? And why were you arguing with Allison's father?"
"That was Derek," Stiles says. "He's a friend."
Jackson rolls his eyes. "Save it, Stilinski. I know about werewolves."
"Well, isn't that dandy? "Stiles asks, sarcastically, unable to stop himself. Jackson and the supernatural don't bring back any good memories for Stiles. It brings back visions of people being ripped apart—people who had babysat him lying in sticky pools of blood on the floor of the police station. "Have you been bitten, too? Did you go looking for it?"
He eyes Jackson with a narrowed gaze. Jackson shoves up into Stiles' space. Stiles pushes him away, his body going rigid with anger. He vaguely notices the bell ringing to signal the beginning of their next class. Lydia pulls at Jackson's hand tugging him closer to her, away from Stiles.
"I wouldn't get on his bad side," she says, warningly.
Jackson jerks his hand from hers, heading back toward Stiles. He shoves Stiles back a couple of feet then gets up in his face again. Anger rolls off him in waves.
"If I want the bite, that is none of your business."
Stiles throws his hands up, forcing Jackson away from him. "You know what? None of you understand just what it is you are getting involved in. Just because you are bitten by an Alpha that doesn't mean that you will be turned into a werewolf. Your body could fight the bite and you could die, or you just might turn into something else entirely. It isn't shit you should be messing with."
"Then why are you involved?" Jackson demands stepping right back into Stiles' space, seemingly fearless of the rage in Stiles' eyes. Unaware of the damage Stiles could cause to him if pushed too far.
They're nose to nose. Something within Stiles just snaps. He sees red. His hands begin to tremble. He shoves Jackson into the brick of the gymnasium wall with much more force than necessary. His head cracks against the wall, causing Jackson to gasp in pain. Stiles crowds in front of him, arms bracketing him in.
"Because no one in my pack ever had a choice!" He slaps his hand painfully against the rough brick. He lowers his voice, taking on a tone of danger. "I watched my best friend get bitten against his will. I watched him grow into the most amazing Alpha in damn near a hundred years. Then I watched him take a wolfsbane bullet to the brain along with almost everyone else I loved, including my father. Derek and I have been through hell and back. Don't think I'm just going to stand idly around while you make a mess of the life you have a choice over. Especially if it threatens our pack.
"The bite can be a gift, but it isn't something you can seek out for personal gain. You need a pack to survive. As a werewolf you need protection from hunters and everything else that goes bump in the night, and believe me there are creatures in this world that would make you never want to close your eyes again if you saw them. If you want a family—"
Jackson stills and finally looks into Stiles' eyes. Stiles powers on ahead.
"If you want people who are going to love you no matter what, no matter how stupid you can be, then stop being such an asshole. Start considering other people, or I guarantee it, Jackson, when you take that bite, you won't be a werewolf."
"You can't know that," says Jackson, shakily.
"I've seen it happen."
Fear flashes across Jackson face before it is replaced by cockiness once again. Scott places his hand firmly on Stiles' shoulder. A warning to calm down. The gesture is almost shocking to Stiles. The Scott he knew would have been right there with him. Ready to knock some sense into Jackson. This isn't his Scott.
"Dude, back off. Derek is about to come back and drag you home," he says softly.
Stiles pushes himself back from the wall and sighs.
"That probably isn't a bad idea, but considering there is a rogue Alpha stalking the student population as we speak, I don't see it being an option. I'm fine, Derek. I promise."
Stiles glances over at Lydia. She is looking at Stiles with wide eyes, her lip trembling. She has one hand resting over her side and another over her mouth to muffle the sob. He knows that look; he's seen it before.
Fuck, thinks Stiles, she doesn't look good.
He holds up his hands and looks up to the sky, silently cursing their luck. He looks back to Lydia tears dripping from her cheeks. Jackson narrows his eyes at her. Realization dawns upon him.
"You? You were bitten?" he asks anger lacing his voice.
"Jackson," Stiles all but growls at him.
Behind him he hears Scott frantically yelling in the direction Derek left for him to come back, but Stiles can't be bothered to care. He curls his hands into fists. His magic flares underneath his skin, and it throws Jackson up against the bricks again.
Then Derek is there, arms wrapping around his torso and pulling Stiles tight to his chest. His lips brush the shell of Stiles' ear. He murmurs soothingly, desperate to calm Stiles before he does anymore damage.
"Calm down. You don't want to hurt him. Pull it back."
Stiles goes limp in his arms. His magic seeps back down into his bones, and he feels the calm of being with his pack wash over him. This must have been what Derek had been searching for after he killed Peter. The feel of knowing that someone is always going to be there for you. Not because they have to be but because they care. When Derek pulls away from him just a moment later, he feels cold in the absence of his touch.
"Come on. We need to move this conversation somewhere more private," Derek says as he tugs them toward the lacrosse field. "The field will be empty, right?"
"Yeah," Scott says, and he gives Jackson a shove in the right direction.
Lydia walks close to Stiles and Derek but doesn't dare to look at either of them until they are standing behind the bleachers.
"How the fuck did you do that?" Jackson spits at Stiles.
Derek narrows his eyes at him. Stiles rolls his eyes not bothering to answer him. Jackson immediately backs down with a huff. Lydia sniffs next to them and Derek nods at her side. She hesitates for a moment steeling herself for their reactions.
Slowly, she lifts up the hem of her v-neck revealing bloody bandage sitting just above her hip. Derek carefully pulls back the gauze, revealing a jagged bite. Dark clots of blood dot across it, the skin puckered at the edge where the Alpha had jerked to hard when pulling away. There is still a little blood oozing from the edges, but it isn't infected. It is gruesome, and it will scar, and Lydia is going to hate it, but she isn't going to turn.
Derek gently puts the bandage back in place, and gives her one of his rare smiles. Stiles is jealous for a second, but realizes that is ridiculous. Derek's smiles don't belong to him.
"You aren't going to turn into a wolf, but your body isn't fighting the change," Derek says. "I'll look into your family history and see what I can find. Sometimes the bite of an Alpha will bring out dormant supernatural traits."
"Like what?" she asks suspiciously.
"The possibilities are endless really." Stiles catches Derek's eyes for a quick moment. "Keep in touch with us. Let us know about any strange dreams or hallucinations. We can help you if you let us."
Lydia looks between him and Derek. Stiles can smell fear leaking from her every pore. His heart clenches. She shouldn't have to deal with this, and he hates that she does. He can only hope that her knowing from the beginning will smooth over the transition this time. He won't let her suffer alone in the dark.
"What if the Alpha comes back for me?" she asks in a whisper, the tears making another appearance.
Derek shakes his head. "It wants wolves. Your scent will reflect that the bite didn't take. It will avoid you, but if you need us, we are staying with the Sheriff for now. You are welcome to drop in anytime. Make sure you get our numbers from Scott so that you can call too."
Lydia stares at him for a moment. Taken aback by the offer. "I—thank you."
"I'll let Talia know you have been bitten, but, Lydia, do not tell Allison about this."
Scott whines low in his throat. Derek shoots him an apologetic glance. Stiles knows Derek doesn't want Scott to resent him for the rift between him and Allison. That had been one of the reasons they hadn't gotten along in their universe.
"I'm not saying not to trust Allison, but it will put her in a hard position," Derek clarifies, glancing briefly at Scott before resting his attention on Lydia. "She is a hunter, and no hunter likes the unknown, especially her family. She has enough stress to deal with right now with Scott joining a pack they have no treaty with. If you wish, I will declare you part of my pack publically. That will put you under our protection, werewolf or no, if they found out about the bite. Just come to the Sheriff's home this afternoon if that is what you want."
Lydia almost seems at a loss for words, but she nods. "I'll consider it. Thank you."
"You are protecting Allison?" Scott asks, dumbfounded.
"You obviously care for her a great deal," Derek says. "That makes her important to the pack. I won't forbid you from seeing her, and I'll try and talk with Chris and her mother about your relationship."
Scott looks down at his feet. Stiles can tell this isn't something he likes talking about. It must be something Allison hated to talk about. It makes Stiles curious to know what it is about the Argents in this universe that he and Derek don't know about.
"Her mom died when she was younger. She doesn't talk about it much, and I haven't felt comfortable prying."
Stiles doesn't let it show, but he relaxes at the thought of the woman not being around in this universe. She had always been a little off her rocker in his opinion.
"Then I will speak with Chris. You are my beta, Scott. You won't be safe if your are sneaking around. None of you will, and I want you safe."
Jackson snorts in disbelief, forgetting he is in the presence of an Alpha. Derek turns his crimson eyes on him again, and Jackson's own eyes widen in fright. Derek advances on him. Jackson takes a step back, his back hitting the chilled metal of the bleachers. He knows he has nowhere to go if Derek attacks and that fear is written all over his face.
"I've been trying to ignore your behavior, because, like Allison, you are obviously important to Scott and Lydia, but let me make something clear," Derek says, quietly. He takes a step further into Jackson's space, eyes still alpha red, and puts them chest to chest. "I don't accept people into my pack who try and force their way in. If you want to be part of this pack, then I'm going to need you to prove to me that your presence in the pack would benefit it not harm it. I won't offer the bite to someone who could threaten the safety of my pack. Neither would any other sane Alpha, including Talia."
Jackson stares at him in disbelief but nods once. The red fades from Derek's eyes. He turns to Stiles.
"I'll see you later. Talia is switching out patrol with me, so I can get some business done. Keep Scott out of trouble."
Derek thumbs at the pulse point of Stiles' neck, watching with delight as he leans into the touch. He steps away from Stiles, patting Scott on the shoulder before heading toward the tree line.
Jackson starts making his way back to the school, his faced pinched tight in anger. Stiles can't bring himself to care. Scott shoots him a faint smile then hurries to catch up with Jackson. Stiles still finds it odd that he and Jackson are such good friends here. To Stiles, Jackson seems like the same douche from his universe. Scott must have a good reason for keeping him around.
"He is a good Alpha," Lydia says, softly. She stares after Derek, her expression thoughtful, and Stiles jumps at the sound of her voice. He hadn't expected her to bother speaking to him. She grins slyly over at him. "He is very protective of you and Scott."
"I've known Derek for a long time. He is a good guy, and he's lost a lot," Stiles says. "Our pack was the second that has been taken from him."
"You mean…?" Lydia begins to ask, trailing off whenever words fail her. The grin fades from her lips.
"Derek is a born wolf. He lost his family to hunters before he met me—well, he lost all except his sister and psycho uncle."
"Has he always been an Alpha?"
"No. He was a beta when we first met. His sister was the alpha, but then their uncle killed her so that he could become Alpha and build a pack to take revenge on the hunters that killed their family. His uncle bit my friend, and that's how we met. Once Derek figured out his uncle was the one behind everything, he killed him," Stiles says, and he pauses for a moment, caught up in his memories. "Things were hard in the beginning. I didn't trust him, and he didn't trust anyone, but, after a time, things fell into place, I guess. He learned how to be a part of a pack again."
"Then someone ripped it away."
Stiles nods. Derek could have reverted back to that broken shell of a person he had been when they first met, but he didn't. Maybe Scott didn't know for sure that Derek would handle being Alpha, but Stiles likes to think he did. Derek and Scott trusted each other in the end. They protected each other.
Stiles and Lydia start making their way back toward the school. He watches how this Lydia holds herself. She is still proud and as calculating as his ever was, but this Lydia seems to carry some humility. She doesn't hide how smart she is. She is clearly proud of it, from what Cora has told him. She walks beside him now, in heels like always, but doesn't seem to pretend to tower over everyone else like his Lydia had in the beginning.
Lydia leads him over to the track field, her hand resting lightly over her abdomen. She catches him looking and rolls her eyes.
"I'm not a china doll. I can handle a little pain," she says, primly.
Stiles doesn't say anything in response. He smiles at her instead. Silence envelopes them for a time as they take a detour to walk around the track. Lydia walks slower than normal, seemingly content to keep his company as her heels softly click against the clay. It isn't until halfway through the first lap that she breaks the silence.
"I never got to say goodbye," she says softly. "We had met that morning for coffee before class. He—Stiles—seemed fine. We picked up Scott and Allison before we met Jackson and Danny in the parking lot, and we went to class like we always did. Everything seemed perfectly normal, but then he was just—just gone."
Her voice breaks on the last word. They both stop walking, right in the middle of the track. She wipes the tears from her eyes. Stiles thinks that maybe he should say something, but he doesn't know what that should be.
"Now, Scott is a werewolf, and Allison tells us that she is a hunter, and I've been bitten, and Jackson hates me —"
"Wow—wow—calm down. First of all, Jackson doesn't hate you. Jackson is a jealous idiot who should be slapped. Second, that gigantic run-on sentence hurts me deep down, right here," he says as he points to his chest with a crooked grin. She gives him a soft smiles and wipes at her eyes again. He lets his grin fade. It's too hard to maintain. "Life is really screwed up sometimes, Lyds. It knocks you down, and it mortally wounds you, only to tell you the fight isn't over. If you're strong enough, you'll pick yourself back up. You know what, though? You're strong enough."
She stares at him for a long moment, looking for something he can't decipher. Stiles feels exposed. Then, all too soon, she flips her hair over her shoulder. There she is: the confident Lydia most alive in Stiles' memory.
"You are entirely too philosophical for a senior in high school, Stilinski. I'll be at your place by six."
She takes off toward the school, leaving Stiles standing just a little bit in awe. He shakes his head. A smile splits his face as he follows her.