Chapter Text
The sun begins to sink over the horizon, the sky giving way to deep pinks and oranges of a beautiful sunset. In the Sheriff's living room, Stiles sits on the arm of the old, brown leather chair that he and Derek have claimed as theirs. Derek has his arm wrapped Stiles' waist, fingers playing with the hem of his shirt, as Erica and Isaac take in the existence of their world. Derek explains werewolves with a little help from Stiles. Their proof is given in the form of bared fangs, red eyes, and missing eyebrows. Stiles was never privy to the explanations the first time around, but Derek had told him enough for him to know that, this time, it was better.
When Derek is done with his explanations, Stiles takes his turn to explain the hunters and magic. He tells them about a code that isn't always followed and about what happens when it is broken. They talk about the bloodshed and the hatred in their world. It is important that Erica and Isaac understand the price Stiles and Derek have paid.
The two children in front of them take it in stride as best they can. Because, after all, that is what they are—children. Everything is confusing and complicated, but, at the same time, a veil is lifted for them both. They can finally see a light at the end of the long and darkened hallway they have been forced down. Possibilities that neither of them had ever fathomed come to light right in front of their eyes.
Erica takes a couple of deep breaths, her glassy eyes giving away to the tears she is holding back. This—what Stiles and Derek have told her—is a lot to take in, like the fact that she would be able to live without a constant fear of sickness. She would need no more medicine or doctors. Her mind runs wild with the idea.
"If I take the bite, then there would be no more seizures. I wouldn't be sick anymore?" she asks.
Anticipation and hope shines on her face. She is seated on the edge of her seat, looking between them. She is so real before them, alive, but Stiles doesn't see her. Instead, he sees his Erica as he remembers her, a beautiful, strong werewolf seizing on the floor of their old library after an attack from the kanima. He hears her voice, small and weak and ages—lifetimes—away, telling him that he makes a good batman.
Just like that, as quickly as the memory comes, it fades, and Stiles blinks his eyes to clear his sight and take in the Erica that sits anxiously before him. He rests his hand on the arm Derek has settled around his waist and squeezes. He knows Derek has to be seeing their old Erica, as well. Too much sadness radiates between them.
"For the most part," Derek says, eventually, against the onslaught of the fading memory of how things happened back in their old world.
Erica's eyes drop to her lap. Her hope vanishes right before their eyes, and, together, Stiles' and Derek's hearts breaks at the sight. They never wanted to see hope disappear here. They want everybody—Erica, Isaac, all of the others—happy and safe. Stiles and Derek could have tried to leave everyone be her, let them all continue to live their lives oblivious to the supernatural.
But that does not guarantee happiness or safety.
Things here may be unfolding differently than they had in the old world, but they are unfolding all the same. There is an alpha, and Scott and Lydia have been bitten, and things are not that different, after all. Maybe it is fate that they should all live their lives tangled up in the supernatural. Or maybe it is the universe telling a bad joke twice. Neither Stiles nor Derek know, but the only thing Stiles and Derek can do is try to make sure everybody is safe and happy and alive. Because, otherwise, there are two questions left to answer: what kind of life would everybody—Erica, Isaac, Scott, Lydia, everyone else—have? And how long would it last?
Derek and Stiles were not going to sit around and let things play out again. They had a say in it all this time around. Together, they decide that life would be long and happy. They couldn't protect everyone from everything, but they could help them protect themselves.
"There could be reactions from venoms of other creatures, certain strains of wolfsbane or to magical herbs that could cause a seizure. But nothing like what you experience now. No need for your medications or 24/7 caution," Stiles soothes.
Erica's eyes light up like the sun, even as she finally allows her tears to fall. The hope is back, right where it belongs. Something in Stiles' chest loosens at the sight.
"I want it," she says. "I don't want to be like this anymore."
There isn't the least bit of hesitation in her, but Isaac is another matter altogether. Everybody knows he isn't tempted to take to the bite for medical reasons. He doesn't even have to take the bite at all if he doesn't want to and he would still live his life the same, except the bite gives him protection, something he has never had but desperately needs. His gaze shifts from Stiles to Erica then finally lands on Derek.
"Being pack, you said, it is like family?"
Derek and Stiles glance at one another. A silent conversation. Memories of the past, of the other world, pass between them in a blink of an eye. Stiles turns back to Isaac.
"No, it isn't like family," Stiles says, firmly. "It is family. By accepting the invitation you are family. We protect each other. We love each other. We die for one another. My magic would be connected to you. We would feel your presence like you would feel ours, if you take the bite."
"I—" says Isaac, softly, pausing for the beat of a second. He barely looks at them. "I want that. I want a family."
"You don't have to take the bite to have it, Isaac. Neither of you do," Derek says. It is important they know this. "We want you because we admire your human characteristics. You both exhibit a strength that is so incredibly hard to find. Not many can deal with the reality of this kind of truth. Not many can deal with what the two of you have endured as humans. We want you, because you're strong, caring, and genuinely good. Humans like you make amazing wolves, but you also make amazing pack members too."
In that moment, as Stile observes Isaac's slumped posture and defeated eyes, Stiles misses his old world's Isaac and the way he would smirk right before a sarcastic quip or joke and how he smiled and how sometimes that smile would reach his eyes in the rarest of moments when he was genuinely happy. He wonders, sadly not for the first time, how humans like Isaac's father can be bigger monsters than the supernatural ones he and Derek have faced. Stiles files the thought away in the back of his mind. He brushes his fingers over the back of Derek's neck as he gets up from his seat on the arm of their chair. He knows Derek wants to speak to Isaac more about what having the protection of a pack means for Isaac's home situation. That is a conversation better done without an audience.
Besides, the smell of sour tang of sickness hangs heavy around Erica. Stiles wonders when she stopped taking her medication and how much longer until everything comes crashing down around her. It is likely to be soon. He can feel it lurking beneath the surface.
"Erica, Do you want to help me in the kitchen? Scott will probably be over with at least Danny in tow, and I thought we could make some pizza. Nothing is more ravenous than a hungry teenage werewolf. "
Erica gives Stiles one of her shy smiles and gets up to follow him. In the kitchen, he starts pulling ingredients from the shelves.
"When was the last time you took your medicine?" Erica stops, frozen next to the cabinet in which she had been looking for a pan. She looks up at him with surprised eyes.
"How do you—"
"Just because I'm not a wolf doesn't mean I can't use my magic to enhance my senses when I need to. I can't smell any chemicals in your scent. That means you stopped taking your medicine. I can feel it too," Stiles says, sliding his hand up her forearm to her elbow. "I can feel it waiting to rise up and take over."
Stiles remembers the shaking of Scott's hand in the locker room so many years ago and how Erica had fallen off the wall into Scott's arms because knew what was happening to her. Scott had told him what it had felt like, and Stiles had been thankful he hadn't been able to do that. Now, though, he slid his magic across her skin tamping down a force that threatened to rise to the surface.
"The side effects—" she starts, with a wince.
"Are better than the alternative. I know taking it sucks, but if it keeps you from seizing, then it is worth the side effects. At least until Derek gives you the bite. Take it until then."
She looks at him with sad eyes, her hair falling haphazardly out of her ponytail. He puts his hands on her shoulders.
"You are part of this pack now. We want you safe and healthy, and if that means taking your medicine then that's what you have to do. If I had something to give you to stop it I would, but I don't think there is an herb I can get or a spell that would help more than the medicine. My raw magic can only deter it for so long. I don't want to see you go through that if I don't have to."
She looks up at him, her eyes glassy with unshed tears.
"I don't understand why you picked me to be in this pack. I'm weak and I'm sick."
"We picked you because even though you are at a disadvantage you still chose to climb that wall. You are brave and smart. To be a good wolf you have to be a good human and you have that on lockdown," said Stiles, fiercely. He pauses and chuckles to himself. "Besides, Batman is nothing without his Catwoman."
Erica laughs at that. She wipes away a tear that manages to escape. Stiles pulls her into his chest, letting his magic envelop her. She sighs contently and hugs him tight, her face buried in his shoulder.
"You don't realize how comforting it is when you do that," she mumbles. "It feels like nothing could ever get to you not even something inside you...safe."
"Magic has its perks."
"I don't think it is all magic. Just yours. It's a Stilinski thing."
She is quiet for a moment, seemingly content to be wrapped up in Stiles' magic. He tightens his arms around her for a moment. He wishes he could have talked to Erica back in his world like this. Made her realize how precious her human side was.
"Not all packs are like mine and Derek's," he says, against her hair. "Some packs are built on power, constructed for the gain of certain territory or revenge. Ours isn't like that. Once upon a time, it might have been, but now it is about family. To me and Derek, you are family, and so are Scott and Isaac. If, after the full moon, you don't want the bite, you are still family. Always."
"You're saying that you would still want me in the pack even if I'm like this? A liability."
"Humans make a pack strong, Erica, not weak. Wolf or human, you are pack and you are amazing either way."
Erica pulls out of Stiles grip, smiling sadly, and looking up at him. Stiles can already read her answer in her eyes, but he lets her say her peace anyway.
"Thanks, but, if it's all the same, I think I'll take the bite and ditch the seizures, Batman."
Stiles smiles and nods his head.
"Whatever you say, Catwoman."
They stand there, the two of them, in the kitchen, alive and together and wrapped up in how it feels to be amongst family. Amongst pack. Something nudges at the edge of Stiles' magic, and, though he doesn't want it to, the moment ends. Scott and Danny cross the boundaries of the house. Shortly behind them, Lydia and Jackson do as well.
"We have visitors, " he announces and heads for the front door.
Erica stays on his heels. In the living room, Derek and Isaac's hushed conversation comes to a stop as Stiles reaches for the door. He doesn't know exactly what was said, but, judging by the puffiness of Issac's eyes, he would wager that Derek had his say, and Isaac had at least listened.
"Hey," says Scott, with a smile. He barrels through the door without waiting on Stiles to open it the whole way. "Hope we aren't too early ."
Scott gives a slightly surprised Erica a big hug on his way to the couch. He plops down next to Isaac. Danny comes in at a slower pace and gives Stiles a wide berth, refusing to make eye contact. Lydia and Jackson bring up the rear. She smirks and gives Erica a hug as well.
"Good to have another woman around. There is way too much testosterone in here."
When Jackson follows her inside, Lydia gives him a hard glare before turning on her heel and leading Erica back into the kitchen. Her heels click fiercely on the hardwood as she goes. The sound nearly echoes in the house.
Jackson takes a few steps toward Stiles, and everybody's eyes snap to him. He looks worse for the wear, much like Isaac at the moment. "I want to apologize, " says Jackson, after gathering his strength to speak, "for... a lot. I didn't handle things well when—when we lost Stiles. I didn't—I couldn't—"
He stops and takes a few deep breaths, and he hasn't said much beyond an apology, yet Stiles can't help but empathize. It isn't easy losing a friend. It isn't easy to apologize, either. Stiles allows his magic fall heavy around Jackson, holding him tight.
Jackson sucks in a ragged breath at the contact, and his eyes turn to Stiles in surprise. "You look just like him," says Jackson, bitterly, "and I couldn't handle that. I just wanted you to be him, and you weren't. You weren't anything like him, and I hated you for it. I'm sorry for being a dick, and I'm sorry I took my anger out on Isaac."
Isaac looks up, startled from being addressed. Jackson meets his gaze.
"I shouldn't have done that to you."
"It's okay," Isaac says, quietly, looking down at his hands in his lap.
Jackson sighs and runs his fingers through his hair.
"No, it's not. Isaac, —I'm sorry. I didn't like the danger Scott was in by being a werewolf. I promised Stiles a long time ago that I would always protect Scott, and, when Scott became a wolf, I couldn't do that anymore. Not as a human, and Stiles—"
Jackson takes a shaky breath and looks to Derek. This apology was as much to Derek as it was to Stiles.
"Stiles wasn't here anymore to tell me how much of an idiot I was being by going about it the way I did. He wasn't here, and I didn't know how to cope with that, so I took it out on you. So, I'm sorry."
Silence hangs over the room. Everyone, except Danny, stares at Jackson, taking in his words and thinking over his apology for what it is. It is Isaac, soft-spoken yet firm, who breaks the quietness.
"Apology accepted."
Stiles steps forward to extend his hand to Jackson, a peace offering.
"I think we both went a little overboard. If you are willing to start over so am I."
Jackson gives him a firm nod and takes his hand. Relief tugs at the corners of his eyes, but everyone looks to Derek, who, unlike Stiles and Isaac, is not so quick to offer forgiveness.
"Prove to me that you know how to put others before yourself, and I'll consider allowing you a place in the pack. Until then, we will call it a trial run."
Jackson nods and opens his mouth to speak, but Derek cuts him off his eyes blazing red. An Alpha command rolls off his tongue, vibrating with power.
"But, if you ever even so much as think about hurting anyone in this pack, I will end you." Jackson swallows deeply and sticks out his hand in promise. It is a sign of an apology, of a willingness to play along, and of a desire to prove himself. Derek stares at Jackson's outstretched hand for a long span of seconds then takes it.
Just like that, the tension leaks out of the room.
"Glad that is out of the way," Scott says, seriously. "Now, I hope you guys had the werewolf talk already, or Jackson just let the werewolf out of the bag."
Jackson goes laughably pale before Stiles slaps him reassuringly on the back.
"Don't worry. We had the wolves and magic talk already."
oOo
The evening wears on casually. They eat pizza and laugh at stupid jokes. Conversation is tossed about across the room, from lacrosse to eyeliner and everything in between. Everything is calm and relaxed until the Sherriff walks in the front door. His face is pale and his eyes tired, but a smile creeps onto his face as he takes in the teenagers in his living room. He gives a small smile and a wave and then turns his eyes to Derek and Stiles.
They don't need to ask. They know something is wrong by the worried look in his eyes. Stiles tightens his arm around Derek's shoulders, and all the chatter in the room comes to a sudden halt as the Sheriff speaks.
"Vernon Boyd's parents just filed a missing person's report. None of you kids have seen him have you?"
"He hasn't been at school," Scott says, and the others shake their heads in agreement. He waits a beat until something clicks in his mind. "Wait, you don't think that he got bit do you?"
Stiles and Derek exchange a look, but they say nothing. They can't tell everyone that Boyd was more than likely bitten because he was a werewolf in their universe. They can't say it not now and maybe not even ever.
"Sometimes an alpha can tell by scent alone who would make a good wolf," says Derek, slowly. This alpha maybe feral, but so far he has bitten Scott and Lydia. That is two people that I, as an Alpha, would have offered the bite, and now Boyd is missing?"
"One is an incident. Two is a coincidence," Stiles starts.
"Three's a pattern," the Sheriff finishes. "I'll call Talia."
He heads into the other room, pulling his phone from his pocket as he goes. Erica and Isaac exchange a look across the couch. The fear passed between them doesn't go unnoticed by Stiles or Derek.
"The full moon is in three days. The two of you need to be on high alert until it's over, Jackson, you too," Derek says. "That means no going off on your own, and no late shifts at the graveyard, Isaac."
All eyes in the room turn to Isaac. He opens his mouth to say something, but closes it quickly. Whatever Derek said to him must have sunk in, because he glances over at the Sheriff with a determined look.
"Is it going to try to go after Scott?" Jackson asks. "Wouldn't biting him give him some kind of wolf claim? What about Lydia?"
Stiles raises his brows in surprise. This Jackson didn't seem nearly as dumb as theirs had when it comes to matters of common sense. It was probably the late Stiles they had to thank for that.
"Scott has declared his loyalty to me. I am his Alpha now. That cancels out the call of the other," Derek explains, his eyes going red for emphasis. "As for Lydia, she isn't a wolf but she isn't entirely human either. Once you're bitten you change or you die."
"I'm not dead and I certainly don't feel like I'm dying," Lydia scoffs.
Stiles laughs.
"What you are isn't important right now," he says. "What is important is that this Alpha isn't in the right headspace. It is stuck in full Alpha form and a screwed up one at that."
"You mean all Alphas don't look like that?" Lydia asks, her voice full of hope. "Derek doesn't turn into that?"
"No, that form is for Alpha's that are mentally screwed," Stiles replies. "Derek turns into an oversized foot warmer."
Derek rolls his eyes and pinches Stiles' side. Stiles just laughs. Derek hasn't fully shifted since becoming an Alpha, and the truth is that Stiles misses Derek's wolf form just a little bit.
"I can shift into a full wolf. The ability is rare and I haven't heard of it being done outside of the Hale family line," Derek says. "None of that is important right now. What is important is getting through this full moon without anyone being turned. The last thing this town needs is new wolves running around who cannot control their shifts. Stiles will keep an eye on you when you are at school, and I won't be far away."
Stiles sighs and straightens up. He turns to face them fully. He knows from experience that they need to look at the worst case scenario. They need a plan B. They always needed a plan B, just in case. He had learned that the hard way, as had Derek.
"There are other threats that we have to be aware of," Stiles says. "There are going to be other wolves venturing into the territory. Some will want Derek as their Alpha, and some will try to challenge his and Talia's claim on the territory."
"If one of these wolves approach you—I don't care what they want—run," says Derek. "Wolves with actual intentions on becoming pack will announce themselves to me, not to members of my pack. To do that would be considered a threat, and, if they threaten you or harm you in any way, I will make sure they wish they never came looking."
" If you get cornered and you can't get away, you fight," Stiles adds.
"How are we supposed to fight a werewolf?" Isaac asks, confused.
"If you are human and you're alone and unarmed, you don't fight to kill. You fight to evade. Buy time until we can find you. You call out for us. I'll teach you," Stiles says. "If you are a wolf, then you fight to survive. An omega will be weaker than you because you have a pack to derive more strength from."
"If you are cornered by more than one omega, you have to consider your options," says Derek. "If you fight to maim and not kill, you leave yourself open to one of them who might take the chance to kill you while you are distracted. We don't ever want any of you to have to kill. Ever. But we don't want any of you dead either. When it comes down to it, it is a decision that you and only you can make. But above all else, the first thing you do is howl for us. We will hear it. I don't care where we are or what we are doing, we will hear your call, and we will find you. You just have to survive until we can get to you."
"What if you don't get to us?" Erica asks.
"We will get to you," Derek says, a small smile creeping onto his face. "Stilinski will know you're in trouble and he will know where to find you. Knowing him he probably has something in place already."
"Please," scoffs Stiles. "I had something in place the moment we met them, but that isn't the point."
He knows that there is a possibility that the Alpha may get to them. He has known it this whole time, and he refuses to be stupid enough to think it isn't a possibility. It isn't very smart to underestimate a werewolf—or anyone, for that matter.
"If the Alpha bites you," Stiles says, "stay calm and know that we will find you. You will have a few hours before the bite takes, and we will have found you by then."
"But we will still be yours though, right?" Erica asks Derek. "Like Scott?"
"Yes. The Alpha cannot hold you if you have declared me your Alpha."
Everybody shares a collective sigh of relief. Silence descends upon the room again, as everyone falls into their own thoughts. They can't predict the future, none of them can, but they can alter it in their favor. Together, united, is the only hope they have for a future in this world. It is the only hope they have for a world that is much better than the one Stiles and Derek have left behind.
Moments later, as everybody stews in their own thoughts, the Sheriff comes back into the room with his phone in his hand. Stiles knows, without the Sheriff speaking a single word, that there isn't good news.
"Talia and Laura were tracking the Rogue Alpha tonight. There was a beta with it. A large one, and Talia is nearly certain is Boyd."
As if on cue, stealing anybody's response, howls of an angered Alpha and a beta ring throughout the house