Is This The World We Created?

Chapter 28

"When did you get here?" Peter asked, noticing and sensing his mate immediately. "And where are you?" approaching the shop, he could sense his mate in his chest, but couldn't see, sense or smell him at all. Yet he felt very sure he was there, which was strange for him since his other senses were saying he wasn't.

"Uncle Peter?" Derek questioned, not able to sense Harry or even smell him. He didn't doubt Peter, he believed he could sense him.

"Why am I not surprised you are here so quickly?" Harry said, simmering into view, still entirely scentless. "You being here is a surprise." He added, glancing at Derek with a thoughtful look on his face. No matter what the world had done to Derek, how grouchy and dark and angry he got, he was never truly unnecessary violent, he didn't want to hurt people or kill them. Derek had no idea how much of a miracle it truly was. He used to be that way, the fact the world hadn't broken Derek…was a miracle.

"I assume by your presence here it's to make sure I don't go too far?" Peter asked, watching his mate with fascination and desire. He didn't really mind, although it likely wasn't a good thing if they thought he was unpredictable. Given they would create their own government and rules. He couldn't screw that up. This would be the foundation that their entire world rested on his shoulders.

"Hardly, we don't much care for what happens to the Darach," Harry said dryly, "The Mundane's involved 'the Hale fire conspiracy' have been arrested they will be put in prison. Some of them unfortunately will only get a few months maybe a year…understandable since one in particular didn't understand what his…concoction would lead to."

"Stiles will be happy," Derek murmured, he was actually arrested for a crime, which means he'll unlikely ever get his job at Beacon Hills again. "For some reason Harris had a very irrational hatred for him. Stiles hated him right back of course, but Harris became especially brutal after he was arrested and implicated in what happened to my family. He was spoken to but inevitably let go, they didn't press charges." Glancing enquiringly at Harry, silently questioning how charges could be pressed this time around.

It wasn't Harry that answered, but he did have a knowing smirk on his face, "Because there wasn't a powerful and influential family demanding answers."

Derek swallowed thickly, shame thick in the air, he'd failed his family three, four times. First the fire, then Peter, then Laura, then failed to get justice for his family. If only he'd spoken up, done something, anything instead of feeling…terrified. Unfortunately, he'd been raised in that terror, to appease hunters, to run and hide. It was all he'd known to do, thought it was so sensible.

"The fact that this attempted arson and murder happened to such a prestigious family who owns practically nearly all of Beacon Hills, a family held in such high regard." Peter nodded in complete understanding. Highly regarded, remembered, but held at a distance, making the family seem mysterious and like too good to hang around regular people.

"With a Deputy pulling all the force of Beacon Hills has to bear to hunt down the perpetrators." Harry said wryly, before turning to Derek and adding, "He's still at MACUSA, they aren't going to release him until he's fully recovered. Magic is delicate business, especially on a Mundane." He knew Derek would enquire after his mates' father, out of worry for both of them. Although, this Derek hadn't ever gotten to truly know his father-in-law. He'd passed away before Derek and Stiles ever mated. That much Peter had told him while they had their 'talks' before they came back.

"Good," Peter said coolly, eyes flashing red, satisfaction coursing through him. Immensely pleased with the progress, justice had been denied his pack by everyone, the remaining members, the police, their allies, the public, everyone. Six long years, and most people had forgotten about it, bar a few, he acknowledged, Stiles had remembered, Stiles had fought for justice. He felt like he'd let them down too, taking six long years to heal, to fight for his family.

"Do you want to be here for this or would you rather head back to Stiles?" Harry asked, staring at Derek inquisitively.

Derek's face shifted, fangs descending from his gums, "Staying," his voice slurring a little through the mouthful of fangs. He had to see this through, for Stiles' sake, he couldn't let any magical practitioner hurt him. Deaton most of all who was a Darach and knew exactly what Stiles was. Whether he'd always known or not, he didn't know but wasn't taking any chances.

Darach's most of all were dangerous, especially experienced ones with how weakened Stiles was at the moment. He'd expended a whole lot of his magic, his energy to give them all a second chance.

He would not repay that love Stiles had shown him by letting Deaton survive.

"Fitting," Peter muttered, "But he really should have been first."

"Poetic justice since he was the beginning of the end for the Hale Pack." Harry said, cocking his head to the side, "He sleeps above the premises?"

"What do you mean he begun it all?" Derek asked, eyes burning red yet again.

"Haven't you all figured it out yet?" Harry said, staring at both Peter and Derek. "The Nemeton you saw in the memories your sister took the tree was whole and thriving. It was whole when you took your girlfriend down there to die unable to go any further consumed as you were of taking her pain entirely and very nearly draining your spark in the process…"

Derek startled, "Was that what I was…you can do that as a Beta?" which he had very much been at the time. "What would have happened if the whole spark had…"

"Better question, how did you know how to do it?" Harry said wryly, "It's not a known fact by werewolves, Druids however would know this information from the old days." They knew a lot of information others didn't because they hoarded information, decided who knew what. Like it or not, Deaton had been a Druid at some point.

Which were set to become ancient.

Derek blanched, his brow furrowing, "I…don't know…I…didn't know."

Peter's eyes narrowed, "Maybe you did, I got my parents Emissary blind drunk once, years before the fire everyone else was supposed to be out of the house except Talia. You came back earlier, gave your father a heart attack going missing or so he thought. You were really young, three or four if that…that's when I found out…but that memory has always been fuzzy to an extent."

"Did you drink wolfsbane infused alcohol?" Harry arched his brow curiously.

"I don't know," Peter said ruefully, shaking his head with a small smirk. "As I said the memory is fuzzy. The first time I thought about it was when Derek saved Cora. It rang a bell, something about it, but I couldn't for the life of me remember, even after coming back from the dead."

Harry hummed, interested.

"What would have happened to me? If I had given her my entire spark as a Beta?" Derek asked, determined to know.

Harry's gaze flickered to Derek, "Hypothetically? You would have become entirely human; she would have become the werewolf."

"Interesting," Peter said entirely fascinated by the prospect.

"Even born werewolves?" Derek asked, it was all he knew, it was hardwired into his DNA, he couldn't believe that he could have become human. It was an awful thing, but being human was so debilitating, weakening. He didn't understand sometimes, how Stiles could have said no to being a werewolf. Weakened senses, body and so very vulnerable. He'd hated it, although it may have something to do with the Alpha pack merging in there somewhere.

"You have greater ties with your wolves it's true, it would have likely made them stronger than say a born werewolf would, if they relinquish their powers." Harry said thoughtfully, "This is all hypothetical of course."

"And why do I have a feeling when we go through the books, we'll find you're exactly right?" Peter questioned, impressed with his mate. Intelligence had always been a very attractive quality to Peter. Looks were good too, he thought, preening inwardly, he was a little vain, not that he'd admit it. He had one stunning looking mate, and he'd blend in very well with the rest of the family with those cheekbones.

Harry flashed him a wicked smirk, "All magic regardless of its practitioner is rather obvious. Steeped in the same traditions just with different means of exploitation."

"The tree?" Peter prodded.

"I know you think Argent did it, but he couldn't and didn't act alone, Druids know how sacred the Nemeton's are. Know how to make them thrive…" Harry gave them a look.

"And how to kill them." Peter finished, cursing inwardly, unable to believe he was entirely foolish.

"Nemeton's are bursting with magic, flourishing and forever flowing never ebbing it heals as it goes along. The power in them…nothing 'Mundane' can poison it, not one at its height of its power with generations of sparks from Hale werewolves protecting it as well as Emissaries. If one gets hurt, the others pick up the slack and get it better, so it all works in harmony. Argent might have poured the potion that did the trick…but an emissary created it into being. It prevented the other Nemeton's from helping they had to cut it off to survive. Funnelling what they could in a vain attempt to help it, eventually the barrier eroded. The beacon will have turned 'dark' so to speak pretty soon afterwards. Especially since it had a dark spirit trapped in it and a virgin sacrifice powering it."

"You've been doing your reading," Peter said eyeing Harry curiously, "I'm assuming MACUSA holds a lot of information?"

"Surprisingly so, given it's not our magic, but our magic strengthens it. Every cleansing will make the Nemeton's stronger, nobody will be able to tamper with them, they're notoriously neutral. Takes a lot to twist it out of shape." Harry said wryly, "Odd that she chose Beacon Hills to come of all places, isn't it?"

Peter closed his eyes and groaned, beginning to get a sore head.

"The very place she managed to garner more power, just as Cora was fatally hurt, overpowered Nemeton, lost alpha powers…has Deaton ever struck you as extremely intelligent?" Harry questioned.

"He is intelligent, but I cannot say how intelligent. He plays his cards too close to his vest." Peter confided grudgingly. "He successfully manipulated my nephew, had McCall dancing on tenterhooks, and despite never giving anyone anything of value was sought out every time, strung them along good and well. Nobody suspected he was a Darach…is he one now? In this time? Nobody was particularly smart so it was easily done of Deaton." Insulting his nephew but Derek said nothing, he'd trusted Deaton before his Uncle Peter.

"Yes," Harry said immediately, glancing up at the vet practice, "I'm surprised you can't feel it. It oozes menace, it makes my skin crawl, like there's bugs all over me." Shivering a little, "Animals have greater senses than humans, they must hate it here." Making a mental note to ensure that the animals were taken care of until they could be collected.

"How did you manage to accumulate so much information in such little time?" Peter asked skewedly.

"Time-turner," Harry said, grinning wickedly, kissing Peter soundly on the lips, "Shall we?" green eyes gleaming wickedly. He had missed Peter while reading for days down in the bowls of MACUSA. It had been needed though, it wasn't something he could risk.

Peter's eyes said it all, taking a step in the direction of the door.

"If he's anything like he was when we knew him," Derek said gesturing towards himself and his Uncle Peter. "The entire place will be warded with Runes and more importantly…mountain ash." He'd never been able to get in there unless expressly invited. He hadn't thought about how it worked with Scott, like a foolish idiot.

Harry cocked his head to the side, "I though a werewolf worked there?" joining Peter, Derek at their back.

"He did," Peter informed him darkly amused.

"Fascinating, he must have been quite powerful for a Darach that is, if he could twist mountain ash to permit those he desired." Harry said, pressing his hands on the door, closing his eyes, his magic stretching out, seeking and searching.

Then the building began to vibrate, shudder and shake, it was subtle, probably indecipherable to anyone human. However, animals and werewolves most definitely felt and heard it.

"What are you doing?" Peter enquired fascinated.

"He's good, I mean he's really good," Harry said in reluctant admiration. "He mixed mountain ash into paint, with only two points the entrance and exit not done."

"That's how he did it?" Derek said, "I had always wondered." There was never any visible mountain ash, just one minute you couldn't get in, the next you were able to.

"There's a small line at the exit and entrance that can be parted, but it's been imbued with his blood, so only he can control it…it's rather fascinating. Blood magic isn't exactly welcomed anywhere, here or the magical world." Harry confessed, "I'll miss working with it." He'd created books of blood magic, used them very frequently actually, during the last six years.

Regretfully he was back to civilised society now.

"Is it illegal here?" Peter asked, as he watched Harry work having stepped away when he felt the deep rumbling vibrations.

"Here…no, although I think it depends on the branch it falls under," Harry said thoughtfully, "But in the UK, yes, very much so."

"You're not a USA citizen are you," Derek realized.

"I am not," Harry replied, "I will need to go through the process, for me and Teddy and maybe Andromeda if she comes."

"Somehow I don't think that will be a problem," Peter said wryly, knowing just how much respect Harry held within MACUSA. The names though, that would take some begging used to, that particular name sounded like it came from a ship. Well, actually it was the name of a ship.

"I doubt it either," Harry chuckled, "Alohomora!" and with a click the door sprung open.

"I've always hated the stench in here," Peter said darkly, "Not the cleaning and sterilising…"

"The stench of death," Harry understood all too well what Peter meant. "It's a vicarial reaction from you and your wolf."

"We've got movement," Peter whispered, all of them freezing at the sound of creaking. Listening to every move he took, until all went silent once more.

"He was just going to the toilet; did he really not have any other alerts on his property?" Peter asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. It felt too easy, especially if Deaton was a Darach.

"Oh, there was a silent alarm rune triggered to go off if someone stepped over it," Harry said amused, "It's different from the runes that wizardkind uses but no more effective when going up against my magic."

"There are dozens of different kinds, just like the languages they will be making their own. Scandinavian runes are the far most fascinating I find." Peter commented, as he let Harry continue to lead them.

Meanwhile Deaton remained snoring, unaware of the advancing threat despite all attempts to safeguard himself from any threat.

Peter's claws slowly emerged as they walked up the stairs, leaving the clinic and up to Deaton's property.

"Don't damage his property," Harry cautioned, grasping Peter's wrist before his claws could even place a nick the wall.

"Packing up and leaving?" Peter easily deduced Harry's plans.

"Yes," Harry replied, "I have asked someone to help out with the animals."

"And that will be?" Peter asked curiously. "Marcus?"

"Good to know we're not quite on the same wavelength quiet yet." Harry said wryly, "Plus, I am not exactly sure Beacon Hills could tolerate three Alpha werewolves…oh wait, he isn't an Alpha werewolf…yet." Shaking his head, of course, everything was different from what he knew.

"It's still tough to get your head around," Derek murmured quietly, a little subdued but not in a bad or negative way, positively neutral for Derek was a good thing. Still following Harry and Peter further into the apartment. Passing the sitting room and kitchen.

"It's always going to be there in some fashion, Derek, and it will feel rather isolating, or would, if you had returned alone. Luckily for you, your mate returned with you, and you have us to talk to about it."

"Why isn't he hearing us? We aren't exactly being quiet." Peter questioned, he hadn't seen Harry cast a silencing spell and did it even work on people that were moving?

"Oh, he's heard us, he just can't do anything about it." Harry chuckled darkly, causing Peter to perk up.

"Oh?" Peter murmured in fascination, "Do tell?" almost purring, he loved that his mate was so similar to him.

"I started draining the stolen magic from him the second I got a bead on his abilities and magic." Harry told him, "He's probably still in shock."

"No doubt he's been cautious when he didn't get word of our demise." Peter sneered, rearing his foot and smashing the bedroom door open with all his might which was quite a lot.

Harry sighed, "You really don't have a subtle bone in your body, do you?" Harry asked dramatically, "Reparo!" and the door repaired itself, Peter had to jerk to avoid the flying wooden debris. Giving Harry a reproachful look.

"Your magic is really…amazing," Derek murmured, "Does it ever lose its wonderment?"

Harry smiled, "Never," he said vehemently. "Of course, those that have not known anything else might think different."

There was Deaton, pale and sweating curled up in a ball in the middle of his double bed. His bedding had been kicked aside in his writhing.

"How painful is it?" Peter asked, fascinated as he approached Deaton as Derek flicked the switch and put the bedroom light on. Deaton's eyes were wide as Peter approached; the smell of terror permeated the air around the vet. He whimpered pathetically, attempting to scoot back like a worthless worm he was.

Baring his teeth at Deaton, Peters claws wrapping around the vet's delicate and vulnerable neck.

His nose went to the curve of Deaton's throat, growling lowly, relishing in the fear that exuded from the man. "Oh, how I yearned to do this for so, so long." Peter murmured against Deaton's throat. He'd imagined this a bazillion times, never did he actually think he'd get to enact it.

"That's rather…alarming," Derek said, arms crossed from where he was leaning at the wall, watching Peter treat Deaton almost like a lover, the words could be misconstrued. A grimace crossing his features, glancing at Harry to see his reaction.

Harry snorted, "You're not wrong there, I'd say luckily, I'm not the jealous type…but I am." Giving Peter a pointed look.

Derek grumbled, "You're both made for each other." Noticing that what Peter and Harry had…he and Stiles had too. Although, Stiles was more bloodthirsty like Peter and Harry.

Although if asked Stiles, Harry or Peter they'd say that Derek was the bloodthirstiness of them all, especially when it came to protecting those he loved.

"Why thank you," Peter said dryly, "High praise coming from you." Blue eyes shimmering with amusement.

Derek huffed out his amusement, "Hurry up, I want to get home…Stiles will be having to face Melissa McCall soon…" like it or not, Stiles had cared for Scott for so long, with such loyalty. It was going to be difficult for Stiles and he wanted to be there for him. Melissa McCall had been like a second mother (although he'd never called her that) and been there for Stiles during a very vulnerable time in his life.

"W-what have you done?" Deaton rasped out, the smell of ammonia almost making Peter flinch at the suddenness of it. It was absolutely foul, the last time he'd really been this close to the stench without moving was when changing Bastian's diaper when he was a very young pup. It didn't smell like that either, they tended to go through a lot of diapers for the pups. They didn't let the diaper get anywhere close to half full before changing it. The spell was too pungent. "W-w-what did you doooo?" grief fuelled despair in his voice.

"I've imagined a million scenario's where I kill you, all of them slowly, painfully, torturously until you were losing your mind from it." Peter whispered into his ear, "There was a time where it was the most important thing in the world. Especially after you encouraged my own pack to kill me." Like it or not, telling Derek not to trust Peter had been a death sentence. Not that Derek had been in a trusting or forgiving mood then anyways.

"I…I had no hand in the Hale fire!" Deaton protested, and it came up as the truth, he hadn't had a hand in it. Strictly speaking, when one knew how to get around the truth when it came to werewolves, they used it to their advantage. Emissaries did, and Druids of today used it to their advantage whereas usually Emissaries only ever did it to protect the pack. "Talia will know this! The Alpha will know!" desperate enough to try and scare Peter into compliance by using his sister, his Alpha to whom he had no bonds with.

Derek shivered, just waiting for it…

"I'm the Alpha now!" Peter's roar echoed through the room, eyes bleeding bloody red.

"His heart might just give out before you can do anything more," Harry said simply, uncaringly. Eyeing Deaton who was powerless, without his rituals, runes and mountain ash. All that knowledge they couldn't help but hoard but it didn't help them become more powerful. It made them stagnate. "Gives a new meaning to frightened to death." Absently raiding his room, looking through drawers and such.

"Why?" Derek asked, observing Harry, alternating between Peter and Peter's mate.

"A Darach is bound to have some fascinating books and magical items stored somewhere. I'm not accidentally putting his stuff into a charity shop for some idiot to find and sell thinking it was a book from a game like Dungeons and Dragons." Harry grumbled.

"It's where you get your best finds at an incredible price." Protested Peter with a smirk.

"Yeah, I raided maybe a dozen charity shops, the ranch was smack dab in the middle of a dozen or so charity shops. We emptied them out, what couldn't be used could possibly be repurposed after all. I mean the information…someone who donated must have had a relative that was an occultist since he had a dozen different kind of magical books, some fake some where actually genuine." Harry said, his tone quiet and thoughtful.

"Could that pose a problem?" Derek asked.

Peter clawed at Deaton, the smell of blood in the air it was belated before Deaton actually began to scream in agony at the claws digging into his skin and though muscle and to the organs clawing into his stomach and tearing and ripping his internal organs to shreds.

"Can you hear me? And don't ignore me or I'll dig just a bit deeper…" Peter promised Deaton.

"Yes, yes, stop please, stop," Deaton begged, frozen with Peter's claws shredding his inside the pain was too much to bear.

"You're so called greater good? The balance? It ended the day you gave Gerard Argent the means of destroying the Nemeton." The shock permeating the air gave away Deaton's immense surprise that they'd figured it out. "I'm not sure whether to feel insulted or not…" giving Derek an amused look.

"Get on with it," Derek said, not playing along with his uncle's game, the need to be with his mate was beginning to become too strong. Which would be problematic at some point.

Peter playfully pouted, glancing at Harry to see if he wanted to. That's when he noticed the smell of tiredness nearly hidden from him. Harry had used his time reading, and clearly hadn't been sleeping like he should have.

"Have at him, I'm going to get the rest of the place emptied," Harry said, giving Peter a smile, squeezing his shoulder before slipping out of the now empty room – except the bed of course – in a bid to find all the magical material he could find.

"Your act of 'balance' when you felt…what the Hale pack was too big? The balance was too light in this town? You poisoning the Nemeton and the ensuing battle led to the end of the world on earth. Not even the other trees could save us…it had contaminated everything…there was no hope until we got our hands on a time-travel spell…and Stiles…oh he's so powerful, he succeeded in bringing back five people. Five, not just a year or two, oh no, not Stiles, he brought us back from…"

"Hurry up," Derek grumbled, anxious at the mere mention of his mate.

Peter sighed, "It would go well if I wasn't constantly interrupted!" he chided his nephew.

"You and Scott McCall ended all life on Earth…I do hope you are happy with the outcome of all your plots and plans." Peter hissed, "I don't believe it…he knows…"

"Who McCall is," Derek finished for him, grim and resolute. "You'll be pleased to know that Scott McCall died and any plans you had died with him."

Peter glanced at Derek troubled, "Did he truly have his grip on him so young?" it was alarming that nobody, nobody had picked up on it. Not even Stiles and there was nobody more observant. Of that, Stiles went uncontested.

Derek wordlessly shook his head; he honestly didn't know. He didn't want to know, but it did allow him a certain measure of peace that everything had been against them for years. "Kill him and be done with it, it sounds like Harry's finished." Cocking his head to the side, the flat was rather small all things considered. Bathroom, bedroom, sitting area and kitchen.

It was true, Harry had already left the 'flat' above the property and was doing something downstairs.

Peter grasped a hold of Deaton's chin and back of his head then he twisted. Deaton's broken off pleas ending with a swift execution. "That was surprisingly satisfying." Even if it meant ending it far too soon and without as much blood spatter as he liked. However, if there was anything he'd learned in his – past now – was to be careful killing with his claws.

And he didn't want to inconvenience his mate having to clean up after a messy kill before they went on a proper date.

Derek relaxed, grateful for one less threat to his mate being in existence.

For a nanosecond, before a knock had both Werewolves glancing at each other.

"Hey Luna!" came the chipper reply from Harry.

"Harry," Luna replied with a smile, "You've been very successful, far farther than in your third year." She commented idly.

"I assume this is whom you decided to ask to take care of the animals?" Peter smoothly said, coming into the room with blood quite literally still on his hands. Staring at Luna, trying to gauge whether she was subtly threatening Harry or not.

"The animals couldn't receive greater care," Harry told Peter, "Her and her husband were nearby, Luna agreed to do this until somewhere is found."

"This place is lovely…we might consider staying." Luna said staring around, "Although this place needs cleansed, the magic here isn't kind and it affects our moods and the animals. I assume you're Harry's mate?" forward as always.

"Sorry, Luna, this is Peter, yes he's my mate, and his nephew Derek," Harry said, his tone lagging, tiredness exuding from him. "I'm not sure how long I'll need your help for. I have a few tasks still to do."

"Retrieve Peter's daughter then rest; Teddy will be fine for one more day." Luna said giving Harry a stern look. "You'll lose your temper in front of your godson if you don't."

Harry blanched, before giving a grim nod. Wondering exactly what Andromeda was going to say to him that could set him off.

Peter arched a brow, in silent query.

"I have everything not about being a vet." Harry said, "Now I'll get rid of Deaton and let you get on with your tasks. Thanks Luna, I'll make sure you are well compensated."

"An interest in the Quibbler will be enough," Luna breezed passed them, "Bring Stiles a pile of curly fries and a burger, he's going to need it."

Derek froze, claws out.

"She's a seer," Peter said in fascination, saying it solely to ease his nephew. "You know the most fascinating people, dear."

Harry laughed, "True enough, I'll explain everything in a day or so, I promise." He told Luna, already walking back towards the flat.

It took all of a few moments to turn Deaton's body into a bone.

"It's tempting to give it to one of the dogs, but I don't want them to end up with indigestion." Harry said before banishing the blood-soaked covers and mattress the bedspread however, got shrunk down.

Peter grimaced at the prospect, sniffing the bone, "It doesn't even smell like him." taking it into his hands snapping it in two just to see what would happen. Hmm, nothing, "Or smell at all, it's so easy to keep trophies…"

Harry barked out a laugh, "Really? Bones as trophies? A little on the nose don't you think?"

"What else could you transfigure it into?" Peter asked, as they moved down the stairs, by the sound of it, Luna was already tending to the animals. Her voice was rather soothing if they were honest.

"Anything," Harry replied slightly distracted, he'd give everything he found to Stiles, he certainly had no use of it. Now to find Malia and get some rest before telling Andromeda that he wanted fully custody of Teddy.

A/n – okay, I'm nearly at the point of all I've envisioned for the story and of course the end I've envisioned too (the epilogue) what else other than retrieving Malia and Teddy do you actually want to see since everything would be different? Shall we have Duke get his eyes fixed and prevent his murderous spree or is it one thing they can't change and the first thing the new department of MACUSA for werewolves have to deal with? Any of the Hale pack you want to see more of? Less off? Redemption for Laura? R&R please!