Episode Eight: No place like home - Part One

Derek was furious. He wanted to tear his enemies apart, tear their flesh from their bones. It wouldn't be enough even if he succeeded. How dare they hurt his mate! Stiles was so full of life and care towards him and his pack. There was no reason to hurt him. It was a cowards attack. He'd forgotten his mate wasn't invulnerable - he always seemed larger than life. Fae had one chronic weakness in the form of consecrated iron. It was the only bullet that could have busted through all Stiles' wards and defences.

He'd changed into his Alpha form as a protective measure. He knew he could protect Stiles more as a wolf than as a man. Changing forms didn't stop any of Derek's worrying. He could feel his mate's pain and shock. He licked at the blood trying in vain to stop the bleeding. The smell of copper was thick and acrid in the air. There was only so much blood Stiles could afford to lose.

Derek's only instinct was to protect. He could put himself in front of another bullet. He'd smelt the weapon and it was just iron. As a result there was nothing fatal towards him. In truth, Derek wouldn't have cared if there was wolfs bane in the bullet. He would put himself between the bullet and Stiles. He felt the flames of Jordan explode near him and even that wasn't enough to distract him.

Lydia's scream hurt. Derek didn't care. It would hurt their attacker more. There wasn't enough pain in the world for the ass hole. His pack were the best. The second the banshee scream stopped - his pack were advancing on their attacker. He trusted Peter and Chris to take care of any threat towards the pack with extreme prejudice.

Stiles was everything to Derek. His mate could die and that was not an acceptable reality. There was a blast of magicks that almost knocked him off his feet. It was enough to make his sensitive nose wrinkle. It didn't matter. They could help his mate. He hoped. He howled signalling his pain to all who could hear.

A hand touched his shoulder. It was a pack member so he didn't snap at them. He could sense the worry coming off them as well. "Don't worry he's in good hands."

There were many descriptions about Queen Mab in different legends. No one would ever believe Mab could do reassuring a person. She could and did for family. She didn't care about everyone else, they could go and hang.

Reality and twisted and Derek knew they were no longer in Beacon Hill. The world had a gleam to it is the best way he could describe it. There was no time to revel in the fact that he was in the Fae Realm. He needed to see Stiles okay first.

Derek whined and watched eagle-eyed as the healers went to work on their prince. Failure was not an option. Jordan was as tense as he was and had not even lost his flames. They were quite stunning.

Mab ordered one of her underlings, "Get McNamara up here!"

The underling didn't understand. Mab did not have time to deal with societal norms. "It's the puppies Dad, get him now!"

That little bit of information doused the flames so to speak. Jordan was standing before them, once again buck-ass naked and looking so lost. "Stiles' ... My Dad?"

Mab had to be the one to answer, her son-in-law wouldn't be capable of it until he changed back after all. "You show all his powers so yep. Whilst you're in this realm your powers will be magnified so it would be a good idea to control them. Who better to help you than your father?"

Derek put a paw over his head. His mind was focussing on his mate but even he knew that was a crass statement. There was a whole gamut of emotions leaking off Jordan that were pretty distracting. The poor pup was having to deal with a meet the father situation at the same time as one of his Alphas was in mortal peril. Just the thought of mortal peril set him off whining again.

"Derek he got here in time."

Derek understood what Mab was trying to say. He was struggling with comprehending it. He'd already lost most of his loved ones in a traumatic event. He knew with every fibre of his soul - He wouldn't make it without Stiles.

Back in Beacon Hills, the rest of the pack had to deal with the mess of the assassin. Chris had been able to return the shot using Lydia's distraction. You didn't need supernatural hearing to hear the pained cry.

Chris was a hunter through and through. He may not believe any of the crazy indoctrination but he had learnt his father's lessons. Gerard was the type of man who didn't leave you with a choice in the matter. He could shoot to kill, cause pain or disable an opponent. Chris was an excellent study ... He had shot to disable and cause pain. It was a vindictive shot not that Chris cared. The hunter was alive but would never be able to pick up another weapon - he'd gone for the nerve cluster.

It was not like the Sheriff was protesting his shot. Chris was well aware John had the skills to judge what he'd done. All John had said was a quiet, "Nice shot."

The Sheriff had seen Mab blink in and take his son. He had never been do grateful for Stiles' Fae heritage. It was a bad wound - fatal in a human. John knew it but there was always hope with magic. He would give anything to be with Stiles but he couldn't make the journey being a magic null. He would have to settle with taking care of the bastard who had dared to lay hands on his son.

The whole pack advanced on the would be assassin. He was not looking so scary right now. He was clutching his bleeding shoulder. If you looked at his ear you would see a trickle of blood from Lydia's scream.

"We should get him treatment."

You could tell from the Sheriff's voice he wasn't too keen on the idea. Most of the betas shrugged off the suggestion in a way only a teenager can manage.

The assassin was spitting mad, "Your Deputy shot me."

John smiled but there was none of the customary warmth. "He sure did. What does he drink?"

Peter was the one to answer, "Johnnie Walker."

John would make sure Chris got the finest bottle he could get his hands on. John couldn't believe the shooter could think he would be on his side. "You shoot at my son and you expect sympathy?"

The shock was making the hunter brave. "You can't arrest me." There was a smug smile on his face considering how much pain he was in. The hunter felt like he'd win even if he hadn't succeeded in his mission. "Not without revealing your son's identity."

So that was the hand he was trying to play. It made sense. He was in need of medical treatment. He was about to be arrested and faced with a pack of wolves who he'd shot at. There were not too many options left open for him.

John snorted as now they had reached the desperation part. He would have fun tearing each vain hope away from the ass hole. "Queen Mab will see her grandson is okay."

John sounded sure because he was convincing himself. Stiles had to be okay. There was no other answer he could accept. He saw whatever blood left in the guy's face so he wasn't completely stupid. John didn't care. He smirked and there was no warmth in it. "Yeah that is who you've targeted and you know what?" John let the end of the sentence linger, making him hang off every word. " I'm okay with not arresting you."

Peter stepped forward,"How okay? I mean I can make the body and him disappear. You would have no paperwork and I can send a message that no one fucks with the Alphas' of the Hale Pack."

John didn't condone Peter's actions. One could laugh at the jovial light manner Peter used to threaten a suspect. He would and could use Peter to his advantage to break a suspect. He could do it especially when the suspect shot his son.

"The thought appeals to me, I can't lie."

Chris figured that was as close to permission as he could get. "Ohh love what about lingchi. He would suffer before death."

Lydia cackled, "A death by a thousand small cuts? That would be intriguing to watch."

Peter stepped closer, letting the hunter see his eyes flash. "Are you aware of the practice?"

The hunter was aware of everything to do with the Fae. To him, any other information was surplus to requirement. Peter was a consumer of knowledge and he delighted in learning all he could when wanting to protect his pack.

Lingchi was a chinese form of torture outlawed in the early twentieth century. Peter wanted the hunter to know all about it. "It is a slow, lingering and humiliating death." Peter sounded like what he was talking about was the best thing in the world. " You would be tied to a post and then I would take one of the teenagers rusty blades and cut pieces of flesh off you." Peter stopped again and flashed his fangs letting the asshole contemplate it. He finished his piece with, "It would be a slow death. I promise you will have no relief. Then I would leave you to the forest animals to take care of your worthless carcass."

All the betas wrinkled their noses at the smell of urine saturating the air. The hunter didn't even have the guts to face them.

There was no doubt in the hunter's mind - the beta would do it. He looked unhinged and thanks to his actions the Alpha was nowhere to be found. He wasn't stupid. He'd done what he thought was thorough research. Peter Hale had run riot through the town not a few years before on a quest of revenge. His Intel had suggested Hale had also died for a time. He knew there was no way he could survive staying in the packs tender care. It was a risk asking the Sheriff to take him but it was the lesser of two evils.

He twisted his body to face the Sheriff, "I will tell you all that you want to know ... Just keep that psycho away from me."

John shoved him in the back of his car. He needed to make sure Peter was okay with keeping the rest of the pack safe. He hated doing it but with Jordan and Derek in the Fae Realm - he was down too many deputies.

He had to take the asshole in and get him booked. He would hand the case off to Walker as he was one of the few in the station that had no connection to Stiles. He needed the whole affair to be as by the book as possible.

John sighed, "How do I explain Stiles?"

Peter rolled his eyes, "You don't agree with it but Derek threw money at the problem." Peter was getting the story in his his mind. "He was airlifted to a private hospital... You are receiving constant updates from my distraught nephew."

If you ever needed anyone to twist the truth into something acceptable - Peter was your wolf.

Lydia thought from another angle, "Derek was useless due to his worry. Oh and you sent Jordan as protection."

It was as good as reason as any. He couldn't exactly use the truth now.

John wondered what Mab and Edward would do with the idiot. Mab was good people so she wouldn't make a move on the assassin whilst he was in Beacon Hills county Jail.

John had to take heart in the fact that once Mab caught up with Stiles' attacker. Well the retribution, would be swift and fitting.

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