Stiles couldn't look up from the floor, couldn't bear to see the accusation in his father's eyes. For months he had fed the man lies; for months he had sent him on several wild goose chases to protect him; for months he had gradually been severing the bond he shared with the man. And now, here he stood with Derek Hale who was still grasping his waist protectively, while Allison was dying in another room about to tell yet another lie. He didn't want to see the distrust in those eyes, nor the pain the sheriff suffered by watching his son go off the deep end. He just couldn't do it anymore; he was done, completely done. He recalled those few hours after he'd returned home from the warehouse, the words his father had said. "I will always love you Stiles, understand that. But…kiddo I can't do this anymore. I don't know what's happening and I know you're lying for whatever reason you think is right and it scares me. I can't help you anymore; I can't keep running to your defense. I- I can't trust you anymore." He squeezed his eyes shut, trying his hardest to block out the agonizing ripping of his heart. His father hadn't looked him in the eyes since then, hadn't bothered asking what he was up to anymore.
He swallowed loudly before looking up. His father was staring crossly at all of them, his face beet red. He kept casting sympathetic and worried glances at Scott who had not acknowledged his presence, but turned scorn glares on the others. He was practically murdering Derek with his eyes, hand itching towards his weapon. The deputy behind him was openly staring at Stiles, head tilted to the side in confusion and something else he couldn't decipher; it was unnerving. The sheriff cleared his throat and used the most threatening voice Stiles had ever heard him use. "Okay, I'm done with this. Anytime something in this town happens you all seem to be right in the middle of it," he pointed at each teen and Derek, "And I realize this girl is your friend. So I'm asking this once and once only. What happened?"
Everyone in the room turned their eyes to him. Stiles felt the blood rush to his cheeks, felt the sweat moisten his palms. His father was watching him wearily and expectantly, the pack eyeing him fearfully. He gulped. "Allison was out in the woods behind her house shooting arrows, you know she's like part ninja or something, and she called us for help. By the time we got there…when we found her…" his voice faltered, the images flashing in his head. Allison looked as if she were already dead when they'd arrived; he was surprised she'd held on this long. He'd seen the white of bone in her leg. But he couldn't convey the horror to his father. He felt a gentle squeeze from Derek and collected himself.
The sheriff crossed his arms uncomfortably. "Any idea what may have done it to her son?" Stiles bit his lip. This was the tricky part. He was pretty his father would haul them to jail if he used the sorry mountain lion excuse they'd fed him since the beginning; but he was even more positive he'd be committed if he told him the absolute truth. It occurred to him then that they had finally reached a crossroads; whatever he said now would ultimately decide the fate of the pack. He ran through the trials they'd faced then Scott had been bitten by Peter Hale. The answer was obvious; he hoped he had the courage to go through with this. He squared his shoulders and met his father's eyes. "We can tell you…in a private environment."
The sheriff arched an eyebrow. "Why can't you tell me straight Stiles?" He cast an accusing glare at Derek.
"Dad, I know I don't deserve it… but if you can trust me this once, I promise everything will make much ore since. Please dad." He used his eyes to plead with the man who looked surprised. He seemed conflicted on what to do: does he follow protocol or get the information off record? Stiles detached from the alpha's arms and walked to his father until they were eye to eye. "I know these past few months have been hell…and I know that you know I was a part of that. It's complicated and some things are too dangerous to say in front of…" he inclined his head to the deputy, "But I need your trust this once. If you let us explain you'll understand why. Just- just please give me this dad."
His father opened his mouth, but the deputy beat him to it. "Sheriff I'll report an animal attack. You talk with your son." The man nodded and walked out to the patrol car. The sheriff watched him for a moment, and then addressed the rest of them. "I assume you're all involved in this as well huh? Even you Hale?" They nodded. He sighed and rubbed his hand down his face. He put both on his hips and looked sadly at Scott. "Is he going to be alright?" For that no one answered. They all knew that Scott would not be okay until Allison was okay. Stiles wondered briefly if she was his mate. Was that how it felt for the wolves?
The man clapped him on the shoulder and followed his deputy outside. They waited in tense silence until they heard the squad car pull away and drive down the road. Stiles was looking at his feet again, not wanting to meet the flabbergasted expressions the pack was no doubt displaying. He had just promised to expose them all, to reveal the dark secrets they'd struggled to contain for months. He didn't need to see the betrayal in any of their faces, not now. He knew in his gut this was the best choice of action, the best possible thing to do. If they didn't understand he was just trying to help they could all kiss his ass. His father could help them; besides it was only a matter of time before the sheriff found out anyway, might as well be now.
He felt someone press up against him from behind and squeezed his eyes, ready to be reprimanded. Instead he felt strong arms wound around him and spin him. He opened his eyes and met innocent hazel irises. He'd never seen Derek look at anyone like that, with such concern and vulnerability. "Stiles we're not upset. We support you 100%, I swear."
Stiles couldn't help the hesitation. What if his dad didn't respond well to the whole thing? Would his pack support him or drop him? He couldn't handle that, not after everything they'd all been through. The truth was he was too insecure, even with them. They all shared an inseparable bond, they all had a set destiny with each other; they would die a pack, never separated. He on the other hand didn't have that with them, not even with Scott. He'd realized that when Allison came into Scott's life and he, the best friend for years, had taken an immediate back seat. He realized how easily he could be replaced, how easily he could be forgotten. What good was he anyway besides doing research when needed? He didn't have powers; he couldn't fight his way out of a wet paper bag with a hole in it; not to mention his knack for drawing the supernatural. He was annoying at times- he knew and accepted that namely because he did it on purpose sometimes. It would be too easy to kick him out and he would have no claim in which to fight back with. How could Derek swear they'd be with him 100% if he himself didn't know if he'd made the only right choice?
He looked away, not wanting to let Derek see the conflict in him. He worked on controlling his breathing, but it was hard. His heart kept hammering in his chest, his mouth kept working to tell them all how he felt. He refused to put his emotions, his most private thoughts out there to be dissected. He knew it wasn't healthy to keep it all bottled in, but it was better than having the others analyze him and pity him anymore than they already did. He felt more heat encasing him and he looked up to see the pack crowding around. Lydia sandwiched him between Derek's chest; Erica was squeezing his middle through a hole she'd somehow made between them; Isaac and Boyd were rubbing his back soothingly; and Jackson held a gentle hand on the back of his neck. Even Scott had moved to them, shoving Lydia slightly out of the way to hug him too. It was the weirdest thing he'd ever experienced, but it reminded him of those nights when he'd snuggle between his mother and father; it was comfortable.
Derek bent his head and nuzzled Stiles neck affectionately. "Stiles you have to trust us. I know this isn't easy to believe but you are a part of this pack." The others murmured in agreement, Lydia pecking him on the cheek. He grinned at Jackson's scowl and Derek's slight growl; jealous idiots. He allowed them to smother him for two more minutes before wrestling his way free. "Okay, we meet at my house. Bring Mr. Argent along as well; I have a feeling this is going to be tough."
The sheriff took a long swig of Jack Daniel's straight from the bottle. Stiles sat nervously across from him, the pack surrounding them both. They'd explained everything from the beginning as best as they could; trying to let the man have the full story. As it was he'd just about hauled them all down to the station when Stiles said that all the trouble was being caused by wolves- werewolves that is. It'd taken all the courage he had to force his dad to listen, to make him sit and ear the actual truth. And though it sounded ridiculous to even his own ears, he knew that his dad believed him; he just knew.
They all waited as the sheriff sat the bottle down and rubbed his head. He looked at all of them as if expecting someone to crack or yell "GOTCHA". He mumbled to himself and Stiles could have sworn he heard Erica and Jackson snort. He turned to look at them questioningly, but they faltered under their alpha's withering glare. The sheriff cleared his throat and Stiles turned back to him.
"So….let me see if I heard you all correctly. Everyone besides Stiles and Allison is a werewolf. Okay…and Jackson was the one killing everyone a few weeks ago because he was a cannibal or something. And Peter Hale somehow came back to life. Did I cover everything?" They all nodded in unison. "Okay…and werewolves and hunters battling it out is the cause of all this crap that's been happening, am I right?" Again they all nodded. The sheriff looked at them all, before bursting into hysterical laughter. He clutched his sides and roared with laughter. The teens all looked at each other clearly wondering if the man had snapped.
"Stiles, do you honestly expect me to believe that? Son, werewolves don't exist, let alone inhabit a town like this. Come on son, be reasonable. Are you going to tell me the truth or not?"
Stiles couldn't help hanging his head. He'd hoped his father would listen, would believe him. He knew it sounded stupid, but for once he was being honest. Maybe it was too late; maybe he'd really ruined that trust for good. He curled his hands into fists, wanting to bolt from the room. He hadn't expected it to be this hard. How could he make it any clearer to his father that he'd only lied for so long to keep him safe? It was the simple fact that people who knew became targets, and at the time they didn't have a strong pack that could protect his father. Things were different now though; they'd become closer than they once were. Anger boiled inside of him. He was done holding his true feelings, done using sarcasm to slip by.
He stood to his feet and slammed his hand forcefully on the table. The laughter died down abruptly, his father startled. The wolves were staring open mouth at him, but he didn't care. "That's enough Dad; I know it sounds crazy but you know it's true. Think about the evidence. It didn't fit together before, none of it did- I should know I obsessed over it. Now you have an answer that links it all together and you laugh? Open your eyes! I know it's hard to believe me anymore dad, but you need to give me something here! I'm trying to keep you alive, that's all I've ever been doing! Please dad I'm begging."
The sheriff looked at his son for a few good minutes and Stiles felt guilty for yelling at him. He never usually expressed his frustration verbally like that (Scott could confirm that seeing as he'd been at the receiving end quite a lot), but this time he couldn't control it. He sank down onto the chair and waited silently. The hands on the clock over the stove ticked, each time sounding louder than the last. Finally the sheriff spoke. "It's not that I don't believe you Stiles…it's just you really waited this long to tell me? I- I could have protected you better; I could have kept you safe had I known. Gerard would have never touched you if I knew what was really happening around town. You're not the father, son, I am. It's my job to lie to keep you out of harm's way, not the other way around." Stiles let his mouth slightly hang open. His dad never really expressed his feelings like that, not since his mother had died. His father actually believed him, gave him a chance. He stood and before he knew what he was doing he was hugging the man. It was embarrassing, but he needed this moment, needed this time to just be with his dad. That is, until the doorbell rang.
Stiles pulled back and went to the door, opening it without bothering to check through the peephole. He was confused to see the deputy from earlier that day standing on the porch with a duffel bag in his hands. Now that he wasn't distracted, Stiles got a good look at him. The man was about six foot two inches tall with broad shoulders and heavily muscled arms. His eyes were electric blue, contrasting sharply with his sandy blonde hair. He was grinning down at Stiles, showing off normal pointy teeth. He couldn't help the slight shiver that ran up his spine; the man was definitely creepy.
His father appeared behind him. "Phil, I almost forgot you were coming over. Your room is upstairs, next to Stiles' room, I'm sure he'll show you later."
The man's grin widened until it split his tan face in half. He nodded and moved into the living room. The pack joined the three of them curiously, though Derek pulled Stiles back until he was partly behind him and the others. He tapped the man's shoulder, but it was Isaac who leaned forward and whispered in his ear. "That man isn't a werewolf but something's wrong with him. He smells of death, but he's clearly alive and healthy. Derek's just on edge; don't worry." Stiles released breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He grabbed Derek's hand and pulled him into the kitchen.
Derek immediately pulled him into a tight, but comfortable embrace, burying his face in his neck. Stiles loved when he did that; it drove him crazy. "Are you okay? We still have to tell my dad about…us, but we don't have to do that now."
The man shook his head. "No, we should let him adjust to this first, then break the news to him. But Stiles…I know this sounds paranoid but after what happened with Allison today I need you to be careful…especially around that man." He jerked his head behind him. "Something is not right with him. I know it's probably got nothing to do with the alphas but I- I can't risk you getting hurt. Be careful okay?"
Stiles leaned in and softly pressed his lips against Derek's. His hands gripped Stile's waist, pulling their bodies close together. Their kiss was brief, but worth it all the same. They broke apart and joined the others, who wore identical masks of horror (Scott and Jackson) or were giving them sly, amused smiles. Stiles felt himself turn beet red and ducked his head. Damn werewolves.
His father ushered everyone out of the house, wanting to speak with them all privately, leaving Stiles alone with Phil. He shuffled his feet nervously, heart fluttering. The man tilted his head to the side, an amused smirk on his lips. "I guess it's time to show me to my room isn't it Stiles." He nodded and turned, heading upstairs without checking to see if the guy was following him. He was definitely creepy on an inhuman level, but Derek had said he was human. Maybe he was just spooked and on edge; what danger could a human pose to him in his own home? He stopped at the door across the hall from his, gesturing to it nonchalantly. "Bathroom's down the hall. Obviously you know where the kitchen is, sooo yeah see ya around I guess."
He attempted to side step and return downstairs, but the man caught his arm. "If I need anything at all I can come to you right Stiles?" he watched him closely, his grip unbreakable. He didn't know why, but those eyes unnerved him.
"Umm…yeah I guess man. But knock first you know?" he tugged away and went into his room instead, locking the door behind him. He breathed deeply before jumping a foot in the air; Derek was perched on his mattress, arms crossed. He was scowling, but otherwise just looked exhausted. Stiles went over and climbed into bed, pulling the wolf down with him. Derek rolled onto his side, bringing Stiles to him until his back was plastered against his back. He draped an arm over him protectively and planted a tender kiss just below his ear. Stiles smiled and closed his eyes. Sometime later, as they both eventually fell asleep, a figure sat on a branch just outside the window, head tilted to the side, electric blue eyes glowing in the moon light.