A/N

Hey guys! Thanks for reading! To my reviewers: Thanks so much and please remember that I update daily. To everyone: thanks so much for all the support I've gotten! Okay, this is kind of a long chapter, (the next one is a lot longer) so a little housekeeping is in order. The sheriff's name is John Stilinski, which can get kind of confusing. Know that when Stiles says John, he means John Winchester, and when he says Dad, he means the sheriff. The opposite is true for Sam and Dean. Now for the really confusing part: timelines. Season four, season five, and all the way before 6x21 of Supernatural all happen in the same space of time as seasons 1-3a of Teen Wolf, which has been condensed to a year and a half. I know, confusing, but it was the only way to make everything work. This story takes place right before "The man who would be king," and exactly one week after the Darach, with the demon attacks starting the following day. Again, sorry the timelines are so out of whack, but it is necessary, as you'll see later. I spent a lot of time figuring it out. As always please review, make sure to check out my non-crossover "one way ticket," and enjoy!

Ch. 6.

Trust Issues

It might have been a mistake to bring everyone back over to Derek's loft. Granted, it was the only place they could all fit, but blood still stained the floor, and a metallic tang stank in the air. Stiles looked around nervously at everyone perched in their chairs. There were no bows drawn or claws extended or guns cocked or even glowing eyes, but everyone seemed way. too. tense. And all those high strung murderers and killers were looking at Stiles. Wonderful.

Stiles gulped, wondering just how to give the demanded explanation. "So... " he began, eyes scanning the room again, "It's kind of a long story."

"Start from the beginning." said Chris, sitting directly in front of Stiles. Stiles knew it was so the werewolf hunter could keep an eye on his brothers, flanked on either side of him. Sam was relaxed as he leaned back in his chair, but Dean was strung higher than a violin, his fingers tapping and his hands visibly itching for his gun. Stiles could not take the nervousness any longer, and he started the story.

"Well, my mom came from a family of hunters. Not an old one like the Campbells, or the Argents," He nodded at Chris, "But her great-aunt was killed by a Wendigo, and the family was drawn in ever since. Mom wanted out, so she went to school and cut ties with her family." Sam flinched, and Stiles smiled apologetically. "Well, about 19 or so years ago, she met John Winchester. He was a new hunter still figuring everything out, and she was basically retired, so she helped him navigate the business. They dated for a couple months before he realized he wasn't quite over his wife's death," another flinch, this time from Dean, "and she realized that she didn't want anything more to do with the hunting life. They agreed to keep in touch, and Mom met Dad, John Stilinski, a couple weeks after that. She found out pretty soon she was pregnant, but Dad decided to raise me as his own son. Mom called John once Dad was okay with everything, and he was a part of my life every few weeks up until he disappeared a few years ago. They named me Stiles after Stilinski, something about covering my name and hiding in plain sight, I don't really remember..." He trailed off and stared into space before a cleared throat (courtesy of Isaac) brought him back to reality. "Anyway, Mom made it clear not to get me involved in hunting. Then she and Dad found out about the Hale pack when I was two, and decided that it was a necessary evil."

"Wait a minute!" Scott said, jumping to his feet, "Your dad just learned about the supernatural like, two weeks ago!" Stiles shook his head.

"No, he's known ever since he married mom. How else do you think he came so close to solving all those cases. He knows pretty much everything the Winchesters do, only he wants to stay out of it. Can I continue?" Scott nodded. "Anyway, they decided to start training me. And John came by once a month. At first he taught me all about the lore, but by the time I was six I shot my first gun. I tagged along with Sam and Dean on my first hunt when I was 10 and not long after that, Mom died. All three of them came to the funeral." The Winchester brothers nodded. "John first went missing immediately afterwards, but he trained me up until a week before. Dean kept training me while Sam was at college. Then I don't hear from them for weeks. Then I find out John is dead. I'll save you guys the emotional rollercoaster, but after that they stopped coming. Too painful. But they called me once a week and kept me informed about everything. The bank robberies, yellow eyes, vampires... And then I hear about Dean's demon deal. They kept in touch, but one week they stopped calling and I figured what had happened. The day after I found out Dean was alive again, Scott, you were bitten. Sam helped me research, and we figured out what type of werewolf you were. Once I yelled at him for not calling me for four months, of course."

"I would have hated to hear that conversation" Lydia mumbled. Stiles laughed.

"It was something along the lines of 'dude, you got a girlfriend and you didn't call me?' Anyway if you know about the Hardy Boys here then you can figure out the rest. I juggled the Kanima, the Apocalypse, and the Darach all in less than a year and a half. Sam had never heard of a Kanima before this, by the way. Oh and Dean didn't call me in the month where Sam was still in Hell. Thanks for that." Dean shrugged.

Stiles faced the pack again, more confidence in his gaze. "So I think that's everything. Thoughts? Questions?" Too late he noticed the pack shifting uncomfortably, and the fervent glances they were giving each other.

Scott cleared his throat. "Stiles, man... That's a lot of info. I can't believe I've known you for so long and yet haven't known about most of your life. It's a lot to take in. I think the pack needs some time to think."

Derek interrupted. "No Stiles. What Scott means to say is that we can't trust you anymore."

"Derek!" Scott snapped at him, but Stiles' heart had already sunk. Sam was right.

Meanwhile, Scott frantically tried to salvage the situation.

"No, no Stiles that isn't it! It's just that you're a hunter-"

"I'm looking at a hunter, Scott, and I don't see you throwing him out of the pack." Stiles said fiercely as he locked eyes with Chris, who, to Stiles' shock, did not look angry. More like he understood. Meanwhile, Scott winced.

"We're not throwing you out of the pack! And it took us months to trust Argent." Stiles chuckled.

"Well what about Allison?" Stiles whispered, fully conscious that the girl in question could hear. Instead of looking mad or hurt, however, she nodded in understanding. If she was on Stiles' side, she was the only one. The wolves and Lydia glared at him for so low a blow, and for a second Stiles felt bad. Scott, meanwhile, gulped and Stiles knew he had him. "Scott, buddy, you found out she came from a family of hunters the day after you met her. And you decided to trust her. You've known me for seventeen years." Stiles changed his voice from aggressive to pleading. "Scott, you're my brother. I just told you everything. You shouldn't need time to think about something like this. Will you please trust me?" Stiles looked at Scott's eyes, saw him waver in confidence, and for a moment Stiles had hope. Then Scott looked at Derek. Derek shook his head.

Stiles' heart sunk further than physically possible as Scott's face drained of any emotion. Stiles knew that expression. It was the delivering-bad-news face, because Scott could not for his life give bad news without attempting to cut off his emotions.

"Stiles," he said, and even though his voice was nearly monotone, it could not cover up the layer of pain underneath it. Whether he was the cause of it, Stiles did not know. "You've been honest with us today. More honest than I think you have been in your entire life." Can't argue with that, Stiles thought grimly. "So I'll be honest with you." Scott continued. "It isn't because you're a hunter. Or that you shot that demon, or even that you lied about it for all those years. Who here hasn't made a career of lying to their loved ones? The truth is, Stiles, it's-"

"It's because you're a Winchester." Derek finished. Stiles could feel the waves of hate rolling off of him as he glared at Stiles' brothers. The hunters in question, who had thus far been watching the scene unfold and communicating with glances to each other, jumped out of their seats. Dean started towards Derek, who was already out of his chair. Stiles hadn't even noticed that he, Scott, and Derek had all stood up as the conversation had gotten more heated. Sam held Dean back, and whispered something to him along the lines of "You're not helping." Dean backed down, but instead walked over to Stiles, grabbed his arm, and pulled Siles out of the circle of chairs, ignoring Stiles' squawk of protest.

"I think we're done here." Dean said, glowering at every single pair of eyes except his own. The pack all shifted uncontrollably, except for Derek, who held his ground. Dean started pulling his little brother towards the door. Stiles resisted a little bit. He didn't want to leave. Once he left it would be official, he would be out of the pack for good. Stiles looked over to the Argents, his eyes pleading. Chris looked avoided Stiles' gaze, looking at the floor, as if he was pretending that the whole scene wasn't happening. Allison, however, was looking at Stiles apologetically. She shook her head slightly. The look on her face seemed to say that she felt bad for Stiles, but wouldn't risk her own standing in the pack to help. A vat of anger welled up inside him at the thought, but deep down he understood. Allison didn't know him as a hunter, didn't know if he was as bad as the rest of her family, if he was worthy of her trust. And her relationship with the pack was tenuous already, after the stunt she pulled on Erica and Boyd last spring. Helping Stiles might get her kicked out too. And try as he might, Stiles was not the type drag anyone down with him.

Stiles shut down his face as he felt tears begin to well up. The damn wolves were not going to see him cry. Dean, noticing Stiles had stopped struggling, eased his grip on the boy. Stiles threw Dean's arm off of him and he and his brother began to walk swiftly towards the door. Sam made to follow but Scott threw his arm up. Sam stopped. Scott looked at Stiles, and though he was all business, he couldn't look his best friend in the eye.

"Look, nothing's official yet. Contrary to what you said, we do need time to talk about this. We'll talk it over. You're not getting kicked out that easy." Scott gave a weak smile that Stiles did not return. "However, I think that until we make up our minds you shouldn't talk to any of us. Any of us, Stiles." Stiles knew what Scott was saying. Don't plead your case individually. Scott and Stiles both knew that talking to Scott would make him cave.

"Fine." said Stiles. And it was. He saw the logic in Scott's ruling. He didn't have to like it however, so it was with some malice that he added "You're the Alpha."

Scott looked like a kicked puppy. Stiles found he didn't care. Stiles looked at his pack, with their treacherous distrusting expressions, one last time before he turned on his heel and stormed out the door, his brothers at his side.