They drove back to the house in complete silence. Martin kept stealing glances at Stiles. He felt nervous, still uncertain how to react to the sudden anger. Stiles kept his eyes focused on the road, for once not saying anything. When they reached the house Stiles got out and walked him to the door. Derek came to meet them in the doorway and Stiles gave Martin a slight push, sending him stumbling in.
"He's your problem now," Stiles said the razor sharp edge still in his voice. He pulled the door closed behind him as he left. Derek gave Martin a questioning, skeptical look. Martin felt his customary retort on his lips but he didn't say it. He just shifted his gaze and headed up to his room. Martin didn't dwell on what Stiles had told him, nor did he talk to Derek about it. He figured his father would cool off soon enough and everything would go back to normal. He was wrong.
When they all sat down to dinner that night Stiles was his usual warm and friendly self with the rest of the pack but Martin felt a poignant silence between them. When he came down for breakfast the next morning Stiles completely ignored his tentative 'hey'. Martin didn't fight his grounding anymore as a peace offering. It didn't help. The silence stretched between them.
"You need to do something," Andrew said after several days had passed. They were all curled up in the sitting room doing homework. "I've never seen Pops like this; it's kind of freaking me out. What did you do, anyway? I mean this can't just be about the grounding thing, can it?" Martin glanced up at him from his work but said nothing. Laura watched him over the top of a textbook from her spot on the sofa.
"He's right you know, Pops doesn't get mad," she said after the silence started to drag.
"Everyone gets mad," Martin mumbled in response.
"Not Pops, not like this," Laura replied. Martin let out an aggravated sigh.
"It's not that simple," he said, shifting uncomfortably but not looking up.
"So tell us what happened. Maybe we can help," Andrew said. Martin looked up at him. The two boys stared at each other, their mutual stubbornness warring in silence. Finally Martin gave off a defeated sigh.
"I sort of insulted his humanity," he said awkwardly.
"What?" Laura asked in shocked disbelief. "How?" Andrew bobbed his head, asking his brother to elaborate in a way that was so like Stiles it made Martin ache.
"Because I want to be a werewolf, like you guys, like Dad. He just doesn't get it, that's why he's mad. It's stupid," he said dismissively. Andrew looked at him as if he'd been punched in the gut. After a moment his eyes hardened in a way that was also painfully like Stiles.
"Maybe you don't get it," he said roughly before he turned and left.
Andrew getting angry was the final straw for Martin. It was easy enough to brush off Stiles' anger but Andrew was a wolf, there was no reason for him to be offended. Not to mention Stiles and Andrew were the two people he always depended on for support; with both of them angry with him, Martin felt lonely.
Laura was also becoming increasingly frustrated with the situation. She, like her siblings, had never seen Stiles truly angry. Worse still, Martin and Andrew had never fought in all the time they'd been alive. It was usually her and Martin at each other's throats and her antagonizing Andrew. It had been a long time since she'd provoked them out of any real malice. For Laura antagonizing was her way of pushing her brothers to be better. It didn't take long for her to decide to act. She cornered Andrew the following day after school.
"Why are you mad at Martin," she demanded flippantly.
"Why aren't you? I mean I know things have been pretty cool between you for a while now, but isn't 'mad at Martin' your default setting? Especially now, I'd think you'd be just as pissed about this as I am," Andrew answered irritated. Laura rolled her eyes at him.
"It's not like this is new. The whole pack has known he wants to be a wolf practically since he started speaking."
"This is different! He's been spinning out of control for a while now and I'm sick of it. What do you think he had to say to Pops to make him so mad? It's not okay anymore," Andrew spat angrily.
"This is stupid. Yeah, Martin needs to grow up and stop whining about being human; but he's not going to get anywhere with you mad at him. It's Martin, he doesn't know how to function without you patting his head and telling him it's okay. And you don't either, for that matter. So stop being a whiny little bitch and be big brother alpha like you always are," Laura said tauntingly before flouncing off.
"Dad, can I talk to you later?" Martin asked cautiously at dinner one night. The question drew Stiles' attention to him for the first time in a while, despite being addressed to Derek. Derek looked at him softly and nodded. Martin could tell Stiles had told him, that he'd been expecting this eventually. After dinner Derek put an arm around his shoulders and led him to the sitting room. They sat beside each other on one sofa, a small space between them.
"You really upset your father," Derek said calmly. "Have you thought at all about what he said?" Martin didn't meet his gaze.
"Not really, no," he answered quietly. Derek nodded.
"Then what do you want to talk about?"
"Why didn't you turn him?" Martin asked. It wasn't really what he'd meant to say but it was something he'd always wondered. It had been bothering him more lately.
"He never asked me to," Derek answered.
"Would you, if he had?" Derek sighed and didn't answer.
"I would have considered it," he said eventually.
"Why? Why don't you want him to be a wolf?" Neither of them was sure if he had meant 'why don't you want me to be a wolf'.
"It isn't that I didn't want him to be a wolf. I would have been just as happy if he was. But he wasn't. And after a certain point, the risk of giving him the bite would have outweighed his or my desire for it. I think by the time I was willing to turn him, I wasn't willing to risk his life."
"But wasn't it a bigger risk leaving him human? With all the dangerous things that were running around, weren't you already risking his life? He could have died! He could still…" There were tears stinging his eyes. "He could get hit by a car, or get shot, or… or have a heart attack! If he were a wolf he'd be okay. He'd be safe!" They realized at the same time that this was the problem, more than his jealously of his siblings, this was why he wanted the bite. He was weak and frightened and so, so fragile.
"Everyone dies, Martin," Derek said, because he wasn't sure what else to say.
"But not as easily. Humans are breakable, stupidly breakable! Wolves don't die of heart attacks! They don't… they don't scar. They're not weak," Martin's words were fumbling, he needed Derek to understand.
"None of that matters," Derek said softly. He considered for a moment before continuing. "The Argent's left before you were born, so you've never had to deal with hunters, but werewolves can break just as easily. We wolves have a much higher mortality rate than humans because to most people we're monsters. We're things to be hunted and killed. We break, Martin, just as easily as you, but in different ways. And it's humans that break us. And," he said, moving to kneel in front of his son, "sometimes scars help remind us just how breakable we are." He ran his thumb over the scars of Martin's face. "You'll never be as reckless as Laura or Andrew because you'll always remember your limits."
"I'd rather be reckless," Martin whispered, then after a moment, "Andrew's mad at me."
"They're both mad for the same reason," Derek replied gently.
"Why?" Martin asked, because he still didn't understand.
"You need to figure that out for yourself. Think about it." Derek said, kissing him on the forehead and leaving him to himself.
Martin did think about it, he thought about it all night. He didn't sleep. The next day in classes he couldn't focus, could barely keep his eyes open. At lunch Andrew put a comforting arm around him and let him fall asleep with his head on his shoulder. It helped, not just because he needed the sleep, but because he knew he and Andrew would be okay. It gave him the courage he needed to talk to his brother about the fight once they got home.
"Why does it bother you that I want to be a wolf?" Martin asked sincerely as the three of them settled in to do homework. Andrew considered him for a while and Martin started to think he wouldn't answer.
"I used to hate you," he said finally. Martin felt the words like a slap in the face; he couldn't remember a time when they weren't close. Laura also seemed surprised. "The first full moon I can remember Pops brought you down to the cellar for the first time. I was five. You'd never seen a shift before; they were still keeping you away from us a lot. You got scared when it started. You buried your face in Pops' chest and you shook and you cried. And I hated you. I thought it was because you were weak; at least that's what I told myself.
"Then the next month you were there again, pressed up against Pops' side instead of cowering in his lap. You watched me the whole night but you were still shaking. I still hated how weak you were.
"The third time was different. You came down and stood away from Pops and you didn't shake at all, didn't even flinch. When the moon was at its peak and I felt its pull stronger than at any other point, when I wanted nothing more than to rip your throat out with my teeth, you said, 'I'm not afraid of you'. That's when I knew you weren't weak."
"I was though," Martin said, a look of absolute self loathing on his face. "I was terrified."
"I know," Andrew said softly.
"Pops does that too; it's like, the only thing you guys have in common," Laura piped in. "It seems pretty stupid if you ask me."
"It's not stupid. You both say you're not afraid when you're really terrified, so the fear doesn't beat you. It's brave and incredibly strong," Andrew explained. He let out a small scoff before continuing, "But I still hated you."
"Why?" Martin asked, uncertain if he really wanted to know. Laura drew herself up attentively as well.
"I wasn't sure at first. I didn't figure it out completely until after Dad told us about anchors. I hated that you were human, hated that I wasn't."
"But," Martin started, but Andrew cut him off.
"You don't know what the full moon is like for us. It pulls at you in a way that's almost painful and you lose yourself to it. You forget who you are, who you're supposed to be. You become this animal. The full moon is the only time I feel like the monster humans think we are." Laura was nodding along with him.
"But you're human. And because you're human, you keep me human. You have no idea how much your humanity means to me. It's my anchor."
"Me too," Laura said suddenly. "I mean it's different from what Andrew is saying. I... Because of what I did to you." She refused to look at him. His scars were still a barrier between them. "I can keep control now, because I don't want to do anything like that ever again." Martin was overwhelmed with the power of the confession.
"I'm sorry," he said, because he couldn't say anything else, but also because he was beginning to understand what he'd done wrong. Laura let out a derisive laugh.
"I'll say," she said sarcastically, pulling a notebook from her backpack and moving on.
Martin got up early the next morning to wait for his father. After talking to Andrew he'd spent most of the night thinking about how his brother felt and how those feelings might relate to Stiles. He was pretty sure he had everything worked out and he was eager to settle things between them.
"I get it," he said when Stiles came down the stairs. Stiles gave a slight acknowledgement with a glance as he grabbed some breakfast and sat down.
"Then tell me," he said. His tone wasn't as icy as it had been but it wasn't quite friendly either.
"You talked about the humans in our family; Grandma and Uncle Hale and Grandma and Grandpa Stilinski… and you told me to ask Dad about you. But you left someone out," Martin said.
"Oh?" Stiles asked. His expression softened and there was the slightest hint of teasing in his tone.
"Me," Martin said firmly. "I'm Andrew's anchor. And Laura too, I think. She stays human because she knows the price you pay for losing control; she sees it every day in my scars. I give everything I have to whatever I do. And I don't back down from anything… except maybe you. I don't need to be a werewolf because I'm strong enough as I am, and I make the pack stronger too." Stiles nodded at him approvingly but Martin wasn't finished.
"I realized something else too," he started. Stiles bid him to continue with his eyes. "You want to be a werewolf. More than me, more than anyone probably. But it's like when you're afraid of something. All you want to do is run away but you can't because it would be too easy and it wouldn't be right. So instead you say you aren't afraid, you say you don't want the bite and you don't ask for it. Because you can't just run away from humanity, and neither can I. I won't ask anymore, because we're better than that." Stiles beamed at him and Martin felt all the tension that had built up over the week drain out of him.
"You're still grounded," Stiles said without malice.
"Yeah, we'll see," Martin scoffed.
"Smartass," Stiles quipped.
"Human," Martin retorted.
"Right back at you, kiddo," Stiles said, ruffling Martin's hair as he headed out for his shift.
Author's Note: One more chapter coming guys.