Stiles mumbled low and rolled over a little onto his back, Isaac's arm remaining in place thrown over his waist. They'd been sleeping face to face, but now Isaac curled up against his side and Stiles could tell by his breathing and his heartbeat that he was awake. Isaac had healed up well, Stiles already knew that, but he traced his fingertips over where the wounds had been anyway, pleased when he found that the skin was smoothed and unblemished. Or at least, it wasn't blemished any further, considering Isaac was still scared and damaged slightly from his experience living with his father. It made Stiles' blood boil to see the scars, always had done.
It felt weird sleeping in another Pack's house, being that relaxed, but he didn't really think about it too much. He didn't want to. He didn't want to think what it could mean to be that relaxed. If he was being honest, he was just waiting for something to ruin it.
"Isaac?" he asked, his voice low and quiet. He still knew that the rest of Derek's Pack could hear him if they were listening intentionally. They probably were. Werewolves could be nosey like that and he had to admit that if there was a strange wolf on his territory, he would be listening too.
He thought probably that the only reason that they were all staying in this house was because of the threat from the other Pack. He knew for a fact that Scott and Allison had their own place. Stiles found it weird to think of a Pack not all living together in one big Packhouse.
"Mmm?" Isaac didn't even bother lifting his head out of Stiles' neck and for some reason that made Stiles chuckle under his breath.
He didn't really want to interrupt the peaceful state they had going on right then, but he had to ask. It had been bugging him. "Where's Erica?" he asked and Isaac actually raised his head at that, a frown creasing the skin between his eyes.
"Erica?" he parroted, obviously confused.
"Yeah, you know, blonde haired and bitchy," Stiles replied, stroking his finger along Isaac's spine out of nothing more than habit.
Isaac laughed, and rolled over onto his back, trapping Stiles' hand underneath him.
"She hasn't been around for a while," he said, "Just after you left she kind of went off the rails, started pretending she was Alpha Female or some shit, so when another Pack passed through and one of their males took some interest, Derek told her to pack her shit and leave."
And Stiles couldn't help it, he laughed. He threw his head back into the pillows and laughed so hard that he cried. He laughed because he was an idiot, because Erica had been a bitch and because in the end, neither of them had been in the Pack. Not really. He laughed until Isaac was looking at him weirdly, until there was the soft rumble of car engine in the driveway just outside and until Derek snarled low under his breath for all of them to get their asses outside.
Stiles felt like that sort of included him, even if it didn't.
He padded outside in nothing more than a pair of jeans, scratching his stomach and couldn't help but smile. A familiar Porsche was parked outside of the Hale house and an even more familiar person stood in front of it casually. Derek and his Pack were spread out in front of the house, their stance defensive. Stiles on the other hand just smiled and walked barefoot off the porch, standing just in front of Derek in a way that shocked all but one person.
"Now see I was hoping it'd be you that Trish was talking about," Mason said, smiling back at Stiles and pushing away from the car he was leaning on.
"Ahh, so she was one of yours," Stiles said tucking his hands into his back pockets and tilting his head a little bit to the side.
It had been a few years since he'd seen Mason and he looked good. He was just a little bit taller than Stiles and in some weird way had always reminded him of a weird combination of Danny and Jackson. He didn't know why, Mason just did.
"Yeah, I don't think you ever officially met Trish, actually," Mason said, the picture of relaxation, "And for the record, I'm not mad that you killed Francis, he was always a bit of an idiot."
Stiles smirked, "What makes you think I was sorry I did?"
"Nothing at all," Mason told him, moving closer slightly, like there was some sort of magnetic pull drawing him closer to Stiles, "I am however surprised to see you in Beacon Hills and I'm hoping this is the moment where you tell me you haven't mated into Hale's Pack."
Stiles couldn't help but laugh. "I was born here," he replied, grinning, "And what would happen if I said I had mated?"
Mason pouted ever so slightly, but looked completely serious when he said, "I'd be unbelievably jealous." He tilted his head a little and scented the air, "Except you still smell faintly of Rory and judging by your reaction, I'm guessing you haven't mated."
He snorted. "You caught me," he said, licking at his bottom lip and smirking when Mason's eyes instantly zeroed in on his mouth, "I'm back in town for my Dad's birthday and I'm here because a few of your pups attacked a friend of mine."
"Well we are trying to take over here, Stiles," Mason told him, but he did look a little bit apologetic. Of course, that apology was for the past and not for the present. Stiles knew that.
"I've heard," he replied, "Which I take it means your brother's in town."
Mason flinched and that was all the answer that Stiles needed.
"You know if you handed him over then you'd have less of a problem," Stiles said, "Meaning, I won't ring Rory and we won't join in this little fight you have going on here."
"I'm not saying that what he did was right, Stiles, but Charlie is still my brother," Mason said and there was a defeated, sad look in his eyes. Like he already knew that the shit was going to hit the fan no matter what he did.
It had been Mason's brother Charlie who had killed one of Stiles' Pack mates, Sam. It was Charlie who had left Callum without a father and Mona without a mate. It was Charlie who had forced them all to train until their limbs felt like jelly, just so that they wouldn't be forced to lose another. But it was Mason who had taken his brother and run rather than letting him face his punishment.
"I know," Stiles replied honestly, because he understood that, he understood why Mason and his Pack had run, "But he still killed Sam and we're still going to kill him."
Mason flinched again. "Don't supposed I can persuade you to stay out of this?" he asked and Stiles knew that he didn't mean his Pack, he meant just Stiles alone.
"Aww, worried about little old me?" he replied, smiling. He wasn't even being sarcastic, he was flattered in a twisted sort of way, even if that concern wasn't needed. Even if he was still going to fight regardless of what Mason requested.
"Always," Mason said seriously, "I don't want you getting hurt."
"I can look after myself."
"I know," he admitted, "But it makes me feel ill to think of giving the order for someone to actually kill you."
Stiles was the one who took the step forwards this time, because he didn't actually hate Mason. They'd dated for just over a year, they'd been close, closer than Stiles let anyone normally get who wasn't Pack. And then it had all come crashing down when Charlie had killed Sam for no reason at all other than the guy was screwed up in the head.
"I miss you," Mason admitted when they were close enough to touch.
Stiles smiled sadly, "I know." He could have said that he missed Mason too, but he wasn't completely sure if he did and he didn't want to say anything that was a lie.
Mason just laughed at his response, but he wasn't offended. "If Sam hadn't been killed, would you have said yes?" he asked, his expression so hopeful that it was heartbreaking, "I have to ask."
Right after they'd found out that Sam had been killed, Mason had already moved out his Pack from the area, but he'd come to Stiles and asked him to be his mate, asked him to come with him. It hadn't been the first time that Mason had expressed a desire for that to happen, but it was the first time he'd asked outright. It was the first time that Stiles had been forced to give an answer.
Stiles met Mason's eyes as he shook his head, "No, I wouldn't have."
And there was no stutter in his heartbeat when he said that. He wasn't lying. He never would have accepted Mason's proposal of being mates. He never would have changed Packs. Not ever, because Stiles didn't love Mason. He never had. He'd liked him sure, he'd loved spending time with him. But Stiles hadn't ever loved him back. He didn't think he ever would have been able to.
"Why?" Mason blurted out, not seeming to be able to stop himself from asking that question. Stiles could smell his sadness and his pain as it clogged up the air. It made Stiles want to gag, but he kept his face impassive until eventually he cracked a smile.
"Wasn't it you who called me emotionally stunted?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Mason snorted, "I believed my exact words were that I didn't care if you were emotionally stunted as long as you kept doing that with your mouth."
He laughed, tipping his head back a little. "Ahh yeah, I remember now," he said, not ashamed in the slightest, even though he could hear the noises of surprise from behind him, "That was a good day, I'll admit."
"We had a lot of those."
And yeah, they had, but it still wasn't enough to make Stiles forget the past. It still hadn't been enough to make Stiles learn how to fall in love again.
"Just don't pull an heroic bullshit," Mason said, starting to put distance in between them again, "I really don't want to see you die, Stiles."
Stiles didn't have an answer for that, so he did the first thing he could think of. He caught Mason's hand as he turned, jerking their bodies together and crashed his mouth against the other wolf's. It wasn't a fierce kiss, nothing between them had ever been overly brutal, but it was still full of enough raw emotion. Mason's love and Stiles' guilt, both of their anger at how situations had played out.
He dug one hand into his own pocket as the other gripped the back of Mason's head. He smiled and pulled back with Mason moaned, hitting the correct number of speed dial and pressing his phone to his ear as he backed up. He watched Mason's face, watched his eyes refocus again as he blinked a little stupidly.
"See you around Mase," he said, trying desperately to ignore the swell of shock and anger that he could scent on the air from behind him. "Hey Rory, you and the others need to get to Beacon Hills," he said into the phone when his Alpha picked up and he didn't miss the way that Mason practically bolted back to his car, "I've just seen Mason, his brother's in town."