Hi everyone! A bit of a switch up this time, as nobody's returning to the pack - rather, this time, Agent McCall finally returns to find out the truth.

Thank you to everyone who's supported this story, and I hope you all enjoy!

I do not own Teen Wolf.


Agent Raphael McCall sat in the driver's seat of his car, studying the school before him. He didn't slouch, doing his best to go unseen. Instead, his shoulders rested, tense, as far up the leather as they could go. He watched, and waited. And when the final bell rang, he finally saw who he'd been waiting for.

Scott McCall walked out of Beacon Hills High laughing, a grin on his face, surrounded by friends. To his right, Stiles Stilinski. To his left, a tall blonde that Agent McCall recognized as, with some surprise, Isaac Lahey. Directly behind the three leaders were a girl he recognized as the sister of a deputy, holding hands with an unfamiliar blonde male. And behind them, from left to right, walked: a glaring teenager Agent McCall identified as Jackson Whittemore, a young black male rolling his eyes, the queen of high school Lydia Martin pointedly ignoring her ex-boyfriend, and the once-thought-to-be-dead Malia Tate scanning the horizon. At first glance, they looked like any other pack of students coming out the school doors. But at second glance… at second glance, they resembled a different kind of pack. Scott walked slightly ahead of Stiles and Lahey. The couple behind them, while seemingly relaxed and talking about nothing serious, kept an eye on their surroundings and were perfectly positioned to guard the lead trio's backs. Whittemore, while upset, was clearly making an effort to stay calm and not yell at anyone - something Agent McCall had never seen, though the sight of Martin running facts and figures in her head was only too familiar. And yet, at the same time, they guarded the teen in-between them. Tate, on the other hand, guarded the entire pack - anyone approaching from behind would have to go through her first. As a whole, the group seemed like well-oiled and ready for anything.

Several things worried Agent McCall. One, where was Kira Yukimura? Two, why had Whittemore and Lahey returned? Three, who were the strangers? Four, where, when, how, and why had his son become the leader of this well-prepared pack? And - somehow, Agent McCall managed to freeze even more in his seat. While he hadn't been hiding the fact he was watching, he hadn't expected this reaction. Tate and the unfamiliar blonde seemed to notice him at the same time, though how when they never looked directly at him he didn't know. Some unseen signal then passed to the others, and automatically they seemed to close ranks. The black male was pushed up in-between the couple, Scott's face grew serious as he began walking towards his father's car, and Whittemore and Tate both looked ready to kill. For that matter, so did Stiles and Lahey, though they only showed it by closing the small gap between them and Scott. In almost no time at all, they reached Agent McCall.

"Dad," Scott said stiffly, hiding his worry the best he could - though, of course, his betas could smell it, and he could feel the anxiety coming through the pack bonds because of it. As Isaac gently nudged him with his foot, the alpha sent what he hoped was waves of reassurance back to his pack. At the same time, the sensation of questions came in from the adults, and even as he tried to negate them, he could feel Derek and Chris drawing closer - able to do so since neither had to be at work.

"Scott," Agent McCall greeted. He eyed the group behind his son. "Can we talk privately?"

The alpha didn't even bother checking with his pack. "Whatever you can say to me, you can say to them." The smell of sadness, mixed with worry, anger, and grief emanating from his father startled him.

"Fine," Agent McCall agreed, trying not to show any of his feelings. "I told you when I got back we would talk, and that I would want the truth. Here I am. And if you've gotten into something, and don't know how to get out, I can help."

Scott protested, "Dad! I haven't joined a gang," while Stiles and Jackson both choked on laughter at the very idea that True Alpha "I'm the hot girl" Scott McCall could be in a gang.

"If you want me to believe that," Agent McCall began, "then you have to tell me the truth."

The alpha hesitated, glancing back at his pack. If he told, he would be revealing their secrets as well. And - "Do it, Scott," Chris Argent interrupted his thoughts. Startling, the alpha looked up to find that his left hand and hunting advisor had both arrived while he considered the next course of action, and had subsequently been absorbed into pack formation - Isaac moved back to stand beside Hayden as Derek took his place, while Chris stood in front of Scott to both block the FBI Agent's view of his alpha and to have eye contact while he did his job and advised. "Do it," the ex-hunter repeated, voice low now that he had Scott's attention. "If you don't, you'll have to work around your father. He'll be watching the pack's every move, doing his best to go against us as he forms his own opinions - just like he's already done. He'll blame your mother for everything. He'll never leave, not until he knows the truth. And if you don't tell him, you will regret it. Whether that happens sooner or later, if you eventually get over it or you carry it for the rest of your life, you will regret it. So make it easy on all of us. Tell him the truth." Speech done, Chris watched the emotions flit across Scott's face until they finally settled, and as he felt the satisfaction that came with making a decision through the bond Chris slid away, tucking into the pack on the other side of Stiles.

"Fine," Scott declared, making his dad look at him in surprise. "You want the truth?" He didn't even have to glance around, Mason tapped the "ok, we're alone" on his back. "We're werewolves. Well, some of us are. Some of us are something else. Some of us are still entirely human. But some of us are werewolves, and me? I'm the alpha of the Pack." Agent McCall gaped at his son, astonished he'd even try to pass something like that off as truth, only to jerk back and reflexively reach for his gun when Scott's eyes flashed a brilliant ruby red while simultaneously growling, showing off a sharp set of fangs. Behind his son, Hale, Lahey, the unknown couple, Tate, and Whittemore's eyes all flashed a mix of cerulean blue and murky yellow. "Leave town, dad." Agent McCall's attention lurched back to his son. "Now that you know the truth, leave. We don't need you here. If anything, we're better off without you bringing the eyes of the FBI down on Beacon Hills."

Scott turned away, the rest of his pack - a wolf pack, Agent McCall realized, an actual wolf pack - following close behind, guarding their alpha and each other. Stiles and Hale, who the agent recognized as his son's right and left hands, quickly caught up to, again, walk just behind Scott on either side. His son was safe, Agent McCall realized, and with that, he started his car and left. He'd keep in touch, but that could be done from a difference. His son had grown up into a fine young man. There was nothing left for him to do but watch him live his own life.


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