Chapter 1: A Slightly Unwelcomed Return

Bang.

Each shot echoed through forest that the pack often ran through.

Bang.

Birds flew from their roost at the loud disturbance.

Bang.

Scott and Isaac shot up with their ears attentively listening in for the source of the exploding sounds.

BANG.

"Shit!" Stiles yelled as he dropped the Beretta from his hands and gripping his right hand.

"You Ok Stiles?" John asked as he bent down to pick up the handheld gun from the ground and wiped some of the dirt off of it.

"Yes Dad, I yelled out shit and dropped the gun because I'm 100% ay-ok," Stiles replied sarcastically throwing his non-injured hand into the air in a shrug that his father would assume was just confirming his sarcasm.

"Yeah, yeah, cut the crap. Remember, I did warn you about the Beretta bite. You have to be more careful with this thing Stiles," John says waving it around in the air pretending it is a toy, "it is not a toy."

"What I don't understand Dad is why you want me to learn to shoot a gun, because the last time I brought up wanting a gun you told me to get out of your office and go to school to learn something so that I would never need to use a gun, which, by the way was the lamest possible way you could have said no because practically everyone in this bloody town has a gun," Stiles managed to get out in one breath.

"Stiles, with the whole dead pool thing," John stuttered for a moment collecting himself, " I don't want you to be in another situation where you are being hunted down".

"But I wasn't on the list dad, you are being completely unreasona-," Stiles tried to explain still gripping the small cut from the barrel of the gun.

"But you could have been. Next time it could be worse. It could be something or someone who wants you and not one of the pack. So I want you to be capable of defending yourself and anyone else who needs it if you're ever in trouble ok?" John said firmly, interrupting Stiles, attempting not to make eye-contact to stop himself from welling up.

"Ok dad," Stiles says reaching out and taking the gun his father was holding in his direction and giving his shoulder a firm, reassuring squeeze with the other hand.

Stiles walked back to his place at the open shooting range, empty at this time of the morning, but also very old. As Stiles held the gun in front of him, his breath carried through the air as a small puff of hot cloud disappearing into the air. Stiles breathed out once more, trying to remember everything he was instructed to do by his dad, and squeezed the trigger gently.

Bang.

~.~

Isaac and Scott had followed the sounds of the consistent gunshots to the firing range just on the edge of the forest. There they found Stiles packing up a gun and the Sheriff watching over to ensure that he doesn't make a mistake in putting it away.

"Safety on?" The wolves heard the Sheriff say before the audible yes groaned from his son.

It was at this point that they decided to move and crack a small branch under their feet. Scott immediately looked towards Isaac and the guilt-ridden expression he was wearing.

By the time Scott looked back beyond the tree line he heard two clicks and saw both of the gun-wielding guys pointing their pistols towards the tree line.

Scott was sort of impressed at how quickly Stiles got his gun ready again, but

He was a little offended to have his best friend pointing a gun in his general direction.

"Who's there? Come out where we can see you." The Sheriff said, also very proud of his son's reflexes with his gun.

While Stiles won't admit it, the fear of his friends being hunted down and slaughtered for sport had made him just a little jumpier than usual.

Scott and Isaac casually emerged from the tree line into the full view of the shooting range with their hands up, they did have the Sheriff and his jittery son pointing guns at them.

''We come in piece?" Isaac queried laughing it off as a joke when Stiles exhaled the breath he had been holding the hold time and managed to slow his heart beat from the near heart attack event that just occurred.

"What the hell Scott?" Stiles gestured with his gun in Isaac's direction causing him to duck.

"We were going for a run through the woods this morning and we just heard gunshots so we came to investigate," Scott said making quotation marks around the investigate term he used. "Why are you using a gun anyway?"

"That's my idea, and it's more of a personal preference that I know my son can defend himself because he doesn't exactly have any claws or fangs to use if he gets cornered," The Sheriff said eloquently.

"Well, you never know, I've been offered before," Stiles says before finally picking the gun away and leaving the firing range, leaving his father in a shocked state.

"I'll see you two at school later?" Stiles yelled from the car.

"Yeah, we better get going, see ya Stiles," Scott yelled in return, "see ya Sheriff."

With that the two left, leaving the Sheriff still in deep thought and shock trying to ponder the meaning of Stiles' comment.

~.~

He padded his paws over the dead leaves and twigs that littered the ground of the woods around beacon hills.

His swift movements not even matched by the wind as he got through the whistling between the trees and passed several other recognisable landmarks.

But he didn't have time to stop and admire everything with his newly-honed senses.

His fur caught on a branch, but he continued to race through the woods, darting between trees and branches and ducking under fallen trees.

Once he made it to the edge of the woods, his body began to change and the fur that covered his body began to retract into his skin, his bones morphed, and he began to stand again.

He couldn't exit the tree line as that would be frowned upon in his clothe-less state given that he was standing at the High School as the bell rang.

Stiles jeep pulled into the carpark and part of the pack exited with great haste to finally be free of Stiles' death machine. As Scott, Kira and Isaac were discussing classes, and Lydia and Malia were discussing Lydia's current relationship with Jordan, a shadowed figure caught the peripheral of Stiles' vision.

He turned to focus on it and immediately grew angry, walking in front of the Lydia and Malia, practically throwing his books at them as he marched towards the shadow he thought he recognised in a furious state.

The entire group turned and looked at what was going down as Stiles walked right up to the edge of the tree line and swung his arm wide enough for everyone to see his slapping motion.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" he yelled to the thing he just slapped, "Oh my god…why are you naked?"

"Well, it is hard for a wolf to wear clothes Stiles," Derek said in the most sarcastic way possible, "Scott, we need to talk. My loft, this afternoon." Derek said just loud enough for his wolf hearing to comprehend before morphing his body back into its previous wolf form and strutting away leaving Stiles standing there completely awkward from just seeing Derek Hale completely in the buff.

Stiles turned around, hands over his eyes, pretending he did not just see Derek and his rather large package directly in front of him, within reach.

As he stumbled back over to his chuckling friends Stiles choked out, "Not. A. Word."

Met with more laughter than before, "EVER!" Stiles fumed as he strutted into the school hallways, thinking of all the things he had to yell at Derek about this afternoon once they reached his loft.