Boyd: Brotherhood

Boyd gave Stilinsky the keys, and was not at all surprised when (having gotten what he wanted) he immediately fled back to Scott's table. Sure, Boyd insisted on the fifty bucks, times were hard. What Stilinsky utterly failed to realize was that Boyd would have given the keys to him for free…if they were friends. He looked around the crowded lunch room. At every single table, kids were sitting with a friend or two or six. He was an outsider, and not just because he was one of the five African-American kids in the whole school. The other kids just didn't know what to do with him. He was too big to bully, too poor be friendly with, too unique to have a relationship. The only African-American girl was his second cousin, and none of the other ladies seemed interested in crossing that racial picket line and giving him a shot.

He sighed, resigning himself to a life of virgin-hood until he got to college. If he got to college. The grades were there, and there was even some money and the possibility of grants and scholarships. It was his gran. She was old and she was sick. She had also taken care of him since he was two and a half. Any money he made went to her to support the household. She didn't want it, told him over and over again to put it towards his own future…but he just wasn't built like that. She gave him a life, and people that did right by him earned his unfailing loyalty. He would die for his gran.

The problem was that Boyd was a loner, and he knew all too well what happened when there was no one who had your back. Some of the local (and not so local) gangs had tried to recruit him. He was big, he was strong as an ox, and he could look real mean when he wanted. Boyd always (politely) turned them down. They had respect that he wanted to take care of his family (or that was what they told him at least). They offered to be his new family when he didn't have one anymore. And that was what he wanted more than anything. It was unsettling how tempted he was by these offers…but deep down he knew that in a gang, your 'family' could turn on you in a minute. That wasn't what he wanted…he wasn't that desperate, yet. He prayed his gran would live until he was 18. He had no desire to be put through the humiliation of foster care at his age. He would wind up at a shelter and there the gangs would have him right where they wanted him, and he would have to join.

He looked around at them all, the students who looked at and through him as if he weren't there, and he wondered if this were any better than what it was like 150 years ago. Slavery sucked, to be sure…but people surely did notice you.

Boyd had read Uncle Tom's Cabin his freshman year. Back then he was horrified at what people of color suffered, and he still was. The idea of being hunted, just for being what you were, chilled him to his soul. Nobody hunted him today. Nobody even knew he was alive. Except for Stilinsky. But unless you were Lydia or Scott, Stilinsky kept the conversation to minimum and then ran off to find one of them. It was funny, since both Scott AND Lydia kept him at a distance too. At least Boyd knew when he was being excluded.

After school, Boyd went home after shopping for some food with Stilinsky's money. He got home and began cooking for his gran, some broiled steak, mashed potatoes with gravy and sautéed vegetables. He looked up the recipes during the day and whipped them together with instinctual ease. He wondered (not for the first time) if he could make a career out of being a chef.

Gran came in, shuffling with her walker before easing herself down into her usual chair. She took in the feast with amazement.

"Boyd, honey, you are spoiling me with these fancy meals!"

He leaned down to kiss her cheek, and she pulled him into a rough hug.

"It's nothing. I like to cook." he said, straightening up.

"Well, you sure are good at it! Sit down with me and let's dig in!"

Boyd took his seat across from her, and tried to blank out his mind while she said Grace. Instead, for the first time ever, a flash of prayer went through his mind. He wasn't religious (though he would never tell that to his Gran) and the idea of asking some all powerful being for a little help that never came…well, it just rubbed him the wrong way. Today…a quick thought came and left, and if any gods heard it…if any existed that is…he doubted they would answer.

The thought was "Please…don't let me be alone. Please don't let me be without a family."

Who knew, maybe something did hear it.

{}{}{}{}

He got up early the next morning and went down to the rink before school. He wanted to see what damage Stiles and his friends did, and if he would need to stay to fix it before the rink opened. To his relief, everything seemed to be normal. There weren't even that many skate marks on the ice. He could probably run the Zamboni over it in an hour. School ended at 3, the rink opened at 4…no problem. He turned to leave.

Someone stood in his way.

"Excuse me, we're closed." Boyd said reflexively. Surely the guy knew that, though. Bleakly, Boyd wondered if he were about to be robbed…but the guy didn't look like the type. Hell, all white people looked the same to him anyway.

The guy was dressed in jeans, leather shoes and a dark grey jacket. His blue-green eyes contrasted sharply with his jet-black hair.

"Hello, Boyd."

"How do you know my name, cracker?" Boyd growled, bunching his hands into fists.

"Cracker? I've been called many things, but never that. It's refreshing. I'm Derek."

The white dude didn't put out his hand, just said his name as if that explained everything.

"What do you want, Derek? I've got to get to school." Boyd made to step past him, and the guy just blocked him without even seeming to move.

"Just a question, before you go."

Boyd stepped back. He was bigger than this freak, but something told him not push it. It was the same feeling he got from the gang leaders who tried to recruit him. The sense of command radiated from him like an aura.

"Ask."

"What would you say if I told you that you didn't have to be alone?"

Boyd shook his head, a grin coming to his face.

"Dude, I don't bark that way."

Derek laughed. "That's funny. I don't mean like that. I mean…how would you like to join my family?"

Boyd gaped at him. This guy was some kind of gang leader? He looked way too…Abercrombie & Fitch.

"We don't come from the same family, bro…in case you haven't noticed."

"You're right. But I do have the power to change that. And if you joined…you'd always have us to look out for you. I take care of my Pack."

"Huh, a Pack? Like in wolves? What's the deal with you and your posse? Drugs? Prostitution? Stealing? Man, I don't have time for that shit. And you don't have the power to turn me white, not that I'd want to be!"

"I think…I'm going about this the wrong way. Join me, and I can make you someone that people will take notice of."

"You're right in front of me, and I don't see anything special!" Boyd was getting sick of talking to this guy. He wanted to get out of here and get to school.

The guy scowled.

"How's this? Is this special enough for you?"

The cracker suddenly growled around teeth that looked like they belonged on a hellhound. His eyes started glowing red, and lethal claws sprouted from his fingertips.

"Holy sweet mother!" Boyd turned and fled toward the other side of the rink. He slipped halfway across and slid another few feet, sure that the thing would be on top of him in a moment, ripping and tearing at his flesh. Instead (when he forced himself to look) the guy just calmly walked toward him, looking human once more.

"What the hell are you?" Boyd gasped out as his heart hammered in his chest.

"I take it you don't get to the movies much. I…am a werewolf. And I want you in my Pack. You're big and strong…I bet some of the gangs would love to get their hands on you. Join me, and you'll be ten times as strong. You heal from just about anything…you change whenever you want once you learn control…and it feels fantastic. All you have to do is give me your loyalty. I won't kid you…we have enemies that will try to hunt us. You might call them a rival gang. I can teach you how to survive, and if things work out the way I plan…even the Hunters will stop being a problem. I'm building something here, Boyd. Something unbelievable, something that's never been done before. You can be part of it. Isaac and Erica already joined up."

"Isaac? I thought he'd be afraid to join the Cub Scouts. And Erica is all freaky with those seizures-"

Derek growled low again and reached down with a clawed hand. He easily lifted Boyd into the air like a rag doll while maintaining his balance on the ice.

"That is my Pack you're talking about. Isaac is a different person now, and I think Erica is way out of your league. Listen, my time is valuable. If you don't want in, I'll find someone else. I picked you because I thought you had potential. So what do you say?"

Boyd's windpipe was effectively closed so he just nodded his head yes. There was no way he was getting on this dude's bad side.

"Good." Boyd felt his shirt being lifted up, and a gurgling scream forced itself painfully through his clenched jaw as he felt the hellish teeth rip a chunk out of his side.

Derek let him down gently, then took out a handkerchief and wiped the blood from his mouth.

Boyd hyperventilated while trying with all his might not let a single tear fall from his eye.

"That…fucking…hurt!" he gasped out.

"You'll be healed by tomorrow. And Boyd…you're one of mine now. Do you understand?"

Boyd got slowly to his feet, and looked down at his new leader.

"Let's get one thing straight. These are modern times. You treat me the same as everybody else, and I don't take orders like we're on the plantation. I take this family shit seriously, and that loyalty goes both ways and it has to be earned. My grandmother? She took me in and gave me everything she had, and there is nothing I wouldn't do for her! You show me that, and I'm your right hand man."

Derek considered. "Done." He extended a hand, and Boyd took it and shook it slowly.

"I'm going to take care of you, Boyd. We have a few wrinkles to iron out before we can really live large; that damned Hunter family and my rogue werewolf McCall…but just have patience. I don't forget loyalty…or betrayal."

"All right man. Damn, this still hurts. How long does this take?"

"You should be changed by tonight. There are some things you need to know…"

Later, as Derek finished filling him in on the ins and outs of being a werewolf, Derek suddenly sniffed the air.

"Your Pack is here."

Isaac and Erica walked in. Isaac looked like he raided Jackson Whittemore's wardrobe, and Erica…well she was the stuff dreams were made of. Certain kinds of dreams.

Boyd gaped at them, and they approached him smiling. Isaac shook his hand warmly, and Erica gave him a tight hug.

"Welcome to the Pack." they said at the same time.

"Uh…thanks." he said back. Despite all of his resentment at being alone…it was going to take some time getting used to not being alone.

"Derek, I want to be the one to take him shopping tonight." Erica pouted.

"Fine by me. He picks the store, Erica. I don't need a second Jackson clone."

"Shopping?" Boyd asked incredulously.

"It's to celebrate being let into the Pack. We need something, Derek gets it for us. Within reason." Isaac explained.

"I told you I would think about the motorcycle, Isaac." Derek said patiently.

"Motorcycle? How rich are you?"

"Rich enough, and I can be very generous with my Pack when they earn it. And now I need to hand out some assignments. Erica, go to Boyd's house in case the Scooby gang looks for him there, then get back here."

"Right." Erica walked out slowly, and all three men watched her leave.

"Scooby gang?" Boyd asked.

"McCall and Stilinsky. Ugh, I suppose I better tell you all about them too."

Erica returned by the time Derek was finished.

"Stilinsky showed up. I gave him a trash bath. McCall should be here any second."

"Let's give him a surprise." Derek grinned.

The three left Boyd on the rink. He got on the Zamboni, wondering if this were the last time he would ever do so. He pondered the things Derek had promised him. Power, a family, a place in the world, friendship and loyalty. He was too pessimistic to believe that Derek was telling him the whole truth, there was definitely something the…Alpha wasn't telling him. But Boyd would take things slowly, and see how they worked out.

Derek wasn't the only one who never forgot loyalty. Or betrayal.