The woods grew thicker and more densely packed about five miles outside of town and soon after, Stiles caught his first glimpse of Oak Creek's outer wall. The thing was huge, although from that distance, it was hard to tell exactly how tall it was, a flat dark gray standing out against green leaves and bright blue sky.
"I need you to do me a favor," Lydia requested softly, turning the music off and closing out the app. "As much as it'll pain you to do so, I need you to let me do all the talking." She glanced over at him with eyes that were a mix of serious and worried, manicured eyebrows slightly raised in the middle, lips barely parted. "If rumors about this place are true, then they're very old fashioned and won't appreciate an omega speaking out of turn."
His fingers curled into fists, nail beds tingling as his claws fought to come out. He hid his clenched jaw behind a fist, knee now bouncing out of aggravation rather than anxiety, but he nodded and went along with her nonetheless. He truly hated his dynamic, hated the restrictions put on him, and hated the reminder of both those things.
Lydia gave him a sympathetic smile, at least understanding that he wasn't all that thrilled with the plan and genuinely feeling bad that he had to deal with it. But really, what choice did they have? And shutting his mouth and playing the good, silent, well-behaved little omega was nothing compared to any sort of punishment she'd be in for once her mom found out about the falsified paperwork. Not to mention that cooperating and being on his best behavior meant the authorities at Oak Creek would be more likely to play nice right back and help them out.
For his brother, Stiles would do anything, including what he hated being the most.
Lydia reached over and scratched the back of his head, slender fingers sliding through his hair before her hand completely fell away and returned to the steering wheel. The small action helped placate him a little, his omega nature happy with the knowledge that he did well and had pleased the alpha he was in the car with.
The silence droned on, the car filled with the muffled sounds of the engine and the tires, music having been shut off a few miles back, allowing Stiles' mind to fill the empty spaces. That tugging sensation in his chest had gotten worse again, a palpable pulling and at times, it felt like he should actually see a rope around his torso hauling him in. He'd been able to ignore it at times, but it was getting harder to block it out, especially with his wolf now going crazier than before, excitement making it bounce around inside his head in a way it only did when nearing Beacon Hills during school breaks.
Fucking weird.
Then again, the past couple days had been nothing but strange, inexplicable events. Why would that day be any different?
The highway turned into a single lane road a mile from the wall and Lydia slowed down, doing half the speed she had been before finally completely stopping and putting the car in park outside the closed gate. Leaning forward, they both peered out the front windshield at the monolith that stood before them, the scents of awe and wariness filling the cabin.
The wall had to be about forty feet tall, made of solid concrete. The top was lined with barbed wire and when he rolled his window down, he could hear the low buzz of electricity, a sign warning about high voltage plastered every few feet down the line. The gate stood about a foot or so back from the wall, barbed wire lining the top of it, too, red lights on either side of it at the ends of the wall.
Lydia had rolled her own window down, reaching out to hit a button on the call box that stood at the side of the road inside a thick cement pillar. A loud buzz sounded out, Stiles raising an eyebrow before figuring it was a signal on the other end.
"State your identity," ordered a staticky female voice through the speaker, tone brokering no argument.
Shifting in her seat to get closer, Lydia leaned further out the window, speaking loud and clear into a hidden microphone. "Lydia Martin, alpha, and Stiles Stilinski, omega."
"Swipe your ID cards," was the next order, one complied by him opening up the storage compartment of the console and handing Lydia their IDs.
She leaned outside the window once more to swipe the cards through the reader, Stiles peering out his own to take in the wall once more. A camera was mounted halfway up the wall at the edge of the gate, aimed right at him, and when he checked the other side, he found a second one aimed at Lydia. Made sense really. Palo Alto had a similar set-up, only with shorter, less intimidating walls and an actual guard rather than a speaker box.
The speaker crackled as the woman on the other end hit the button to talk, drawing his attention back to it. "It says Stilinski's name isn't Stiles, but—"
"Don't even bother trying to pronounce it," Lydia interrupted in a tone that was more harsh than helpful. "Even his own dad can't say it right."
An amused snort sounded out before the line went dead and he glanced at his friend to see if she knew what was going on. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip, cards absently tapping against her nails, scent slightly nervous. Wringing the back of his neck, he let out a gusty exhale, staring out the front windshield.
"Knew I should've changed the name on my ID when I turned eighteen," he muttered, dropping his hand and slamming his head back against the seat.
"Why didn't you?" she asked quietly, no accusation or blame in her voice, just a friendly sort of curiosity.
He shrugged, gesturing helplessly. "Guess I was just waiting to find my Mate so I could change it all at the same time."
A small smile turned up the corner of her lips, the speaker crackling behind her once again, causing her to turn back to it.
"Insert your Consent Forms for Visitation through the top slot of the scanner and make sure to catch it when it's released through the bottom one," the female instructed with a sigh, sounding bored, like she'd recited that order way too many times and was frankly sick of it.
"Yeah," Lydia reluctantly began, pausing to lick her lips then turn them down in a slight apologetic pout. "We don't have any papers."
Stiles' head snapped to her at that, jaw hanging open in shock. He'd figured after the falsified ones to leave Beacon Hills she'd have something to allow them to enter Oak Creek. There was no way she hadn't thought ahead far enough to realize she'd need something at that moment. Lydia Martin was nothing if not overly prepared. Her excessive amount of luggage proved it.
"Don't ha—" the female voice blurted out incredulously before seeming to catch herself, clearing her throat then continuing. "State the purpose of your visit," she ordered with a slight hint of curiosity and Stiles could picture a generic female—one who happened to resemble Deputy Graeme, the omega who manned the front desk at the Beacon County Sheriffs Department—leaning closer to the mike, eyebrow cocked in wonder and slight dubiousness.
"We're looking for Stiles' brother. Stuart Stilinski? We have reason to believe he's residing here now."
A small moment of silence occurred before the female instructed them to "hold on a minute", the speaker letting letting out a "fzzt" then going completely dead.
He kept his gaze locked on his friend as he gnawed in a fingernail, dying to comment on the lack of paperwork but knowing better than to say anything at that moment. Just because the mike had cut off from the other end didn't mean it was switched off on theirs. Last thing they needed was for the Oak Creek guards to overhear their convo about why Lydia hadn't faked anything for an entry like she had for an exit. Wouldn't help their arguments that they were trying to gain access to the city with good intentions and bore no ill will towards any of its residents.
Not that having zero paperwork at all helped against that argument either, but what other choice did they have at that moment?
The waiting dragged on, Stiles' anxiety ratcheting up. All he could think about was how busted they clearly were, how word must've gotten to his dad by that point, how the female guard was most likely on the phone with the sheriff telling on him or confirming their story with Lydia's mom. Maybe they were readying the troops on the other side of the gate, preparing to haul them in and arrest them for falsifying paperwork, for believing they were trying to get to the California Alpha. They were gonna head straight to jail, or worse: back to Beacon Hills to be incarcerated there under his dad's watch.
"Sorry 'bout that," the female's voice crackled through the speaker, making him jump as he was snapped back to reality. He took a deep breath to calm a heart that was racing for several different reasons, running a hand over the top of his head repeatedly. It was okay, everything was all good, they were fine.
As far as he knew. For the time being at least.
"You're clear to head to the second checkpoint where a couple of S-Dubs will be waiting for you. Your safest bet is to head straight there with no delay. Speed limit is thirty-five and you're being timed." With that, the speaker clicked off with a resounding finality.
Stiles raised his eyebrows at her ominous words, realizing that the road had switched to a single lane to prevent anyone from turning around and head back the way they came. He briefly wondered what would happen if someone was trying to enter as another car exited, only to have his thought process cut off by a loud buzzing and a harsh clanging.
The lights on top of the wall turned green and started spinning as the gate trundled to the side with a loud grinding noise, revealing another long stretch of forested highway. When the gate was fully open, Lydia put the car in gear and drove forward, heeding the female guard's words and not delaying.
The gate closed automatically behind them, Stiles watching it in his side view mirror, the clang audible past the car's engine and the windows being electronically wound up. The pulling sensation intensified once more, but he ignored it in favor of focusing on something that was bothering him more.
"No paperwork?" he asked, finally feeling safe enough to do so.
She pressed her lips together, smudging her lip gloss, shrugging and shaking her head. "It's one thing to forge a County Alpha's signature on forms to leave our mid-level town. It's another thing entirely to do that in order to enter a maximum city where the State Alpha lives," she pointed out. "I'm not about to risk being arrested for treason just because I didn't ask my mom to let me come here."
He bobbed his eyebrows and seesawed his head, conceding her point. He'd figured that was the reason why but it was nice to have it confirmed, to know that Lydia had fully thought things through rather than flying off half-cocked like he tended to do, acting with only half a plan—if even that much.
Leaning back in his seat, he cupped his chin in his hand as he stared out the side window at the scenery, anticipation flowing through his veins, apprehension making his knee bounce. They'd finally made it, were inside Oak Creek. They were moments away from finding his brother and—
That stinging ache from that morning came roaring back to life and he clutched at his chest as he winced. Fuck, for two years all he could think about was finding Stuart and now that he was moments away from doing just that, he was scared. No, he was terrified. A strong sense of dread had taken over, an all-encompassing belief that he wasn't gonna like what he found, that he was gonna wind up feeling more heartbroken and damaged than ever before.
No. Fuck that. Like Lydia had said earlier, until they had one-hundred percent definitive and undeniable proof that Stuart was dead, they were gonna act like all was okay.
Didn't help ease the way Stiles' stomach was churning with nerves or how his heart was pounding in fear or how he was getting more anxious with each yard they passed by.
His wolf's excitement and that tugging sensation were making shit worse, causing him to feel torn between an intense need to hurry up and go faster, to get there sooner, and a sickening sort of dread and an overwhelming need to turn around and head home, to pretend none of it was happening and to live in denial that anything had happened to his brother.
Shit.
They drove for another twenty minutes or so before another wall came into view. While it was gray like the other, it was shorter, closer to fifteen feet, and not quite as thick. Electrified barbed wire also ran across the top of the second wall, the same red lights present, but the pillar with the speaker box was nowhere to be seen. Instead, an unmarked black SUV already sat there waiting, front end facing the gate, displaying a cage of lights across the top and a high end pulley on the back end. On either side of it stood a man dressed in all black, both holding rifles of some form in front of their bodies, not aimed at anything but at the ready should the need arise. They wore matching uniforms of black tactical pants, a black bulletproof vest over a black collared shirt, boots of the same color on their feet.
Lydia slowed down to a crawl, the man from the driver's side of the car—a taller, more muscular one with dark skin—stepping forward and holding a hand up to signal her to stop. She followed directions, putting the car in park as the second male—a tan guy probably about Stiles' height with dirty blond hair and light eyes—approached Stiles' window, tapping on it with a knuckle and signaling him to roll it down.
He did as he was told, heart pounding inside his chest, stomach twisting and turning with knots. But he kept his cool on the outside, easy-going smile on his face, knowing that if he acted too nervous, too panicky, it would be misinterpreted as guilt. And since he hadn't done anything wrong—except leave town without his alpha's permission and technically break the law but that didn't count—and wasn't planning on doing anything wrong, he had nothing to worry about.
At least, that's what the logical part of his brain side. The other, much bigger part was focused on the broken laws and how it was possible they were completely busted at that moment.
Fuck.
"Stiles Stilinski?" the guard double-checked as he leaned down to look in the window, eyebrows raised in question.
Stiles just nodded, not trusting himself to actually say words, absently grabbing for his ID card as it sat on top of the armrest of the console with Lydia's.
The guard nodded once, accepting the non-verbal response, then peered around him to the driver's side. "Which would make you Lydia Martin, correct?"
Stiles turned to her, noting the other guard towering over that side of the car, his massive torso filling her whole window. Not that Lydia was paying him any attention. She was staring straight out the front windshield, hands gripping top of the steering wheel, pressing her lips together as she nodded.
He scented the air but didn't catch any nerves from her. Well, not an overwhelming amount at least. There was the usual amount to be expected when one's car was bracketed by armed guards, but overall she seemed somewhat relaxed, at ease, almost... calmed by something.
Stiles' brow furrowed in confusion at that. Alphas tended to be more high strung, more territorial, more defensive. If an alpha's car was surrounded by strangers, it would be seen as a threat to themselves and their property, especially when an omega was added to the mix. Lydia should've been growling under her breath, flashing red eyes and sporting claws. But instead, she was subdued, completely fine with the whole thing.
Okay, so Lydia wasn't the typical alpha and wasn't prone to flying off the handle the way some others did—except for one time before junior year when a deer crashed into her car and she flipped her shit screaming at the dead carcass laying across the hood of her Volkswagen. But he still expected her to do something other than just sit there calm as hell.
She pursed her lips, letting out a flat "yep" before turning to her right to check out the other guard. Immediately upon making eye contact with him, her lips parted and her eyes widened, a gasp pulling air into her lungs. A similar sound came from behind and Stiles whipped his head around to find the guard with his eyes locked on Lydia, dreamy look in the yellow-green orbs, soft smile spreading across his features. Stiles turned back to see a grin on his friend's face that he honestly had never seen he wear before in all the years he'd known her.
But he had seen someone else wear it. Namely Scott when he first set eyes on Allison when she moved to Beacon Hills and again the day after his sixteenth birthday when he found out for sure that they were Mates.
Holy...
"Lydia," the guard murmured absently, like he was tasting the name on his tongue, smile still plastered on his face. "I'm Jordan."
"Nice to meet you, Jordan," she replied coyly, demure smile on her face and Stiles held back on the urge to roll his eyes and groan.
The two continued to smile at one another like idiots, the rest of the world not seeming to register with them. The air filled with the scents of joy and happiness and this warmth that could only be described as a peaceful homecoming and love. Stiles had caught that scent on Scott when he was with Allison, on Danny when he was with Ethan, and he figured one day, he'd smell it on Lydia.
He just didn't think it'd be any time soon.
He threw his arms in the air and sank lower in his seat, having no option but to sit there as the two of them made goo-goo eyes at one another across him. God, it was awkward. And envy-inducing. And really fucking irritating and rude, considering they were supposed to be heading further into town in order to try and find his brother. But he knew there was no chance in getting through to them, so he didn't even bother, choosing instead to stew in his own aggravation, knee bouncing and nail being gnawed on, settling in for a long wait.
"Parrish!"
Or not.
The guard now known as Jordan Parrish snapped out of it, head snapping back so fast that he wound up hitting it on the top of the open window. He hissed in pain, hand flying up in an instinctual reaction, as Lydia tried to rush over to him, only to be stopped by her seat belt.
"As heartwarming as this moment is," the other guard deadpanned from where he was now bent over and peering into the driver's window. "And as happy as I am for you that you found your Mate, we really need to go. Big Guy's gonna be back at HQ soon and he's gonna wanna meet him."
Stiles' eyebrows shot up to his hairline, lips parting as his jaw dropped. He had no clue who "Big Guy" was, if the omega was the one who wanted to meet him or vice versa and why, but he was inclined to go along with anything that anyone said if it got their cars moving and through the gate.
"Right," Parrish agreed, clearing his throat and smiling sheepishly at the two wolves still car-bound, eyes lingering on the female. He shot her a grin before slapping the roof of the car twice and pushing away, heading to the rear of the SUV.
His partner rolled his eyes and shook his head, then smeared a hand over his face. "We're gonna hook your car to the back of ours and lead you to our HQ so we can start the approval process," he explained, turning his head to the side to check on Parrish, who was now unwinding the cable from the roll attached to the bumper. "It's standard procedure," he continued as he turned back to the guests. "Nothing personal. We have to do it with all visitors, especially those without the right paperwork." At that, his dark eyes focused on Stiles, giving him a significant look the omega couldn't interpret. But before he could ask, the guard pushed away from the car and strode over to his partner, the two murmuring quietly as they worked.
It wasn't long before the two cars were hooked together, Parrish shouting further instructions and Lydia putting her sedan in neutral, smiling coyly the whole time. The SUV started up, brake lights flipping on and the gate sliding open.
"So," Stiles began, smirk on his face. "That's him, huh? No wonder you didn't wanna share any details."
She did her best to glare at him, barely able to fight off the smile but perfectly managing to reach over and punch him repeatedly. The hits were light, no alpha strength behind them, and he found himself laughing more than hurting.
"Shut. Up. Stiles," she ordered with each hit, grin breaking through momentarily. She sobered up when the dark skinned guard waved his hand out the driver's side window, she returning the gesture. She moved her foot from the brake to the gas as the lights on the SUV cut off, rolling forward through the gate. "But just so you know," she began when he grew serious once again. "I'm not gonna let whatever may be between me and Jordan stop me from helping you out, okay? I promise I won't just leave you to handle anything alone." Reaching over, she took one of his hands in hers and squeezed it, glancing between him and the windshield, the gravity of her vow evident in her eyes.
"I know, Lyds," he assured her, squeezing right back and giving her a smile. And while he did know it in his heart, it was nice to hear it out loud. He had a feeling he was gonna need her to be by his side the whole time they were in Oak Creek.
The S-Dubs Headquarters was a nondescript cement block building erected against a third wall—another ten minute drive from the previous one—to the right of the gate. A metal awning stretched out over the sidewalk from the front door, a small parking lot with another similar SUV located at the other end.
The guard who was driving stuck his hand out to signal a turn then a stop, pulling them up along the front of the building with Lydia's sedan lined up with the sidewalk. She put it in park, killing the engine when the SUV's cut off, then remained seated with Stiles as they awaited further instructions.
He glanced around, taking in his surroundings, noting the thick growth of trees surrounding the lot and the road, the small patches of grass on either side of the walkway, small shrubs lining the building that looked pretty but were more than likely prickly when touched, while petunias ran along the cement path. Two windows were on either side of a metal door, darkened with tint and impossible to see in, but Stiles had the distinct feeling that someone was peeking out of one, curious about the new arrivals. It's what he would do if he was inside.
Then again, his dad always said he was a nosy little shit, so there was that.
The guards exited their vehicle, the driver reaching inside to grab the AR that matched the one his partner was already holding before shutting his door, Parrish continuing something he must've been saying inside the car, Stiles catching the tail end of how someone "can kiss my ass now", said with a proud smirk. The twosome headed straight for the two feet of space between the cars, presumably to unhook them, only to step over the cable and continue on their way, stopping outside the opposite sedan's doors. The darker skinned male gestured for them to get out while shaking his head in amusement at his partner, stepping back as Stiles opened his door.
He glanced over the top of the car to watch Parrish helping Lydia out, the newly discovered Mates exchanging goo-goo eyes and grins, Stiles once again resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he peered up at the guard next to him, seeing how the larger male was giving in to the action, but with a fond smile on his face. Stiles found his eyes drawn to the left side of his neck, where a recently refreshed Claiming Bite stood out just below the crook of his jaw. The omega surreptitiously scented him, catching a whiff of beta, wolf, and a second beta of a more female persuasion.
The guard cocked an eyebrow at him and Stiles' eyes widened before he snapped his gaze away, guilty at having been caught. The towering beta let out a noncommittal grunt before shrugging it off and speaking flatly, features stoic and almost bored.
"Please turn around, put your hands on top of the vehicle, and spread your legs."
Stiles turned back to him, raising his own eyebrow in question, recognizing the instructions. "You gonna frisk me?" he questioned, voice slightly teasing.
The beta was unamused, looking down at him with an expression he often saw his dad wear, face telling him not to give him that shit. "I won't be," he corrected, peering over the top of the car.
Stiles spun around to find out what he was looking at, staring past Lydia's flirty smile as she assumed the position for Parrish. A distant beep sounded out, the door opening and a lanky male stepping out. He wore an identical outfit as the others, the black standing out stark against pale skin and dirty blond curls. He didn't carry an AR, but his hand was on a holstered pistol at his right hip, a second one attached to his left thigh. As he drew closer, Stiles could make out light eyes and high cheekbones, an almost cherubic look to his slender face and sharp features.
"Lahey is gonna frisk you," the unnamed guard stated, pointing at his approaching coworker.
Stiles frowned in confusion before it dawned on him. The unknown guard was a beta while Stiles very much wasn't and Lydia had pointed out earlier that Oak Creek was very traditional in its views on omegas. Which meant that no one of any other dynamic was gonna touch him. Except for his Mate, but since he hadn't found the guy yet, that was a moot point.
Lahey passed between the two cars, bobbing his head in Parrish's direction, and drew to a stop next to the dark skinned guard, giving him the same nod. He was maybe an inch or so taller than Stiles, but still shorter than the beta guard, scent carrying the distinct aroma of omega as well as a heavy dose of alpha, like his Mate had scent-marked the crap out of him before letting him leave the building. Made sense considering the red Claiming Bite featured prominently on the left side of his neck, like it had been refreshed only moments before.
"Hey, Boyd," he greeted his coworker, voice a professional tone with just a slight hint of curiosity. The mentioned beta just nodded his head in acknowledgment of the greeting, dark eyes still trained on the visitor. Lahey followed his line of sight, his own blue eyes widening and lips parting as shock overtook his scent.
"Jesus Christ, Erica wasn't kidding," he muttered absently, like he had no clue he was even saying the words out loud, eyes roaming Stiles' face, scent now a mix of surprise, wonder, and sorrow.
Stiles chose to ignore the chemosignals the guy was giving off, focusing instead on his words. "Erica?" he questioned, brow furrowed. "Who's Erica? What was she not kidding about?"
Boyd gave his coworker an unimpressed look, blaming him for Stiles' outburst, sighing harshly before turning to the visitor. "The female at intake that you spoke to over the comm?" he reminded him, waiting until the omega nodded to show he understood. "That's Erica." A small smile turned up the corner of his lips at her name, scent blossoming with something warm and sweet, leading Stiles to the conclusion that she was Boyd's Mate.
Stiles nodded again, waiting for more of an explanation but getting nothing. "Okay, and what wasn't she kidding about?"
The beta huffed, folding his arms over his chest, putting biceps the size of his head on display, AR now hanging from a strap off his shoulder. "Would you just assume the position so we can get this over with? We have more important shit to deal with than a nosy omega sticking his nose where it's not supposed to go." He raised his eyebrows in a pointed look, daring the shorter male to argue or backchat or try any sort of shit.
The visitor licked his lips as he nodded, eyes darting away and breaking eye contact first. He was dying to find out what Erica hadn't been kidding about, what other important shit it was that they had to deal with, if it had anything to do with the Meeting.
If it had anything to do with his brother and that's why Lahey had looked so stunned to see Stiles standing there.
But he had a feeling he'd already pushed his luck far enough and given the size of the dark-skinned guard before him, pushing it any further would result in something on his body being broken or busted. Keeping his mouth shut, he turned around and put his hands on top of the sedan, legs spread, coming into Lydia's line of sight. She gave him a wide-eyed glare, jaw hard and lips pursed in anger. He'd seen that look a lot over the years they'd known each other, was able to translate it as her being completely unable to believe that he'd just done what he just did. Which, in this case, was totally throw her warning out the fucking window and speak out of turn despite his status.
Whoops.
The frisk was quick and efficient, Lahey now a little more familiar with Stiles' junk that he wanted anyone to be—Mate aside, of course. Satisfied he was clean, the omega guard stepped back and nodded to the taller one before passing between the two cars, hand back on his still-holstered pistol.
"You're clean," Boyd announced, gesturing to the front door with an open hand. "Let's go."
Not needing to be told twice, Stiles got his ass in gear and rounded the front of the car, joining Parrish and Lydia before they all walked single file towards the entrance, Lahey ahead of them on the sidewalk, Boyd bringing up the rear, rifle back in his hands. The omega guard pulled an ID on a retractable cord from his belt, sliding it through a card reader on a small black box by the door. The box beeped, a red light flipped to green, and a loud "thunk" sounded out, the locks disengaging. He held the door open, gesturing everyone in with a sweep of the arm, Parrish leading the way.
They entered a brightly lit room, the vestibule caged on all sides, sterile white walls a foot or so on the other side, the generic gray tiles with flecks of white and black making up the floors. Another armed guard in all black stood on the other side of the caged gate, scent full of aggressive alpha and something familiar that Stiles couldn't quite place but swore he fucking knew.
Once the main door was closed behind them all, Parrish scanned his card, the gate buzzing, lights above it switching colors before another clunk of locks opening sounded out. He swung the gate open and walked through, standing on the opposite side of it from the alpha, giving Stiles a good view of the guy over Lydia's petite form, his jaw dropping and eyes widening in shock.
"Jackson?" Lydia squeaked out, frozen where she stood. Not that he could blame her. She'd been just as in the dark about the guy's whereabouts as Stiles had been, Danny the only one with any info and not spilling a damn thing. And now, four years later, she was coming face to face with an ex she'd thought could've possibly been her Mate if it weren't for her Dream telling her otherwise.
Holy shit.
All the rumors flashed through his head, mind dismissing the illogical ones that didn't fit. Insane asylum was out, so was alien abduction—not that that one ever had any real credibility behind it, but it'd been fun to joke about how it wasn't possible since even aliens wouldn't wanna put up with Jackson's ass. Reform school and military enrollment were both still possibilities, especially given Jackson's new role as an S-Dub—which Stiles wasn't entirely sure what that was, but given the soldier aesthetic they were all rocking, it was some sort of military.
The guy looked pretty much exactly how Stiles had remembered him: same douchy hair cut, same angular jaw and sharp cheekbones, same tan complexion and blond hair/ blue eyes combo. The only real difference Stiles could see was a Claiming Bite on the left side of his neck, right in the middle, rather than high and proud like Lahey's and Boyd's.
Jackson's eyes went wide at the sight of his ex standing before him, clearly the last person he'd been expecting to be on the other side of that gate. The blue orbs then flicked up to Stiles, square jaw ticking slightly at the sight of him. Old habits, the omega figured, something he used to justify the fact that he took a step back at the blond's expression.
Confusion swirled the air around them, mixed with the surprise coming from the three old friends, although no one really said or did anything beyond Lydia's exclamation of the guy's name. The alpha moved his eyes back to her, softening slightly at the edges, small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
"Hey, Lyds," he greeted her softly, in a tone Stiles hadn't heard him use...ever, really. He didn't think the asshole was capable of such tenderness or caring. He'd always found Jackson and Lydia's relationship contentious at best, filled with more friction than anything, and he never really understood why they were together in the first place, beside the stereotypical need for the hot popular female to be with a hot popular male. He could've told them from the get-go it wouldn't have worked out, if for no other reason than they were both alphas, but he had a feeling his words would've just been pushed aside and regarded as a jealous little omega trying to split them up so he could have one of them to himself.
Which, okay, might've been a little true, but didn't make his reasoning any less true.
The soft smile didn't go unnoticed, a territorial sort of aggression hitting Stiles from two different directions. But if Jackson or Lydia were aware of it—which they had to be 'cause it was making the omega's wolf whimper and he wasn't even the target of those emotions—they didn't acknowledge it, continuing on in their own little world.
As always.
"What are you doing here?" she whispered harshly, stepping forward, stopping just outside the gate's threshold. Her arms folded over her chest and Stiles could perfectly picture her wide-eyed glare as she wordlessly forced him to submit and do her bidding, dynamics be damned.
Jackson's brows furrowed into a frown as he looked down at her, slinging the strap of his AR over his shoulder and letting it hang. "I work here."
Aggravation rolled off her in waves, hip cocking out and toe tapping on the tile. "I meant," she ground out. "In Oak Creek."
He opened his mouth to answer, only to shut it with a frown, folding his own arms over his chest. "I could ask you the same thing, and considering the fact that you're the visitors and I'm an S-Dub, I'm more likely to get an answer than you are."
Stiles raised his hand to interrupt and ask what exactly an S-Dub was, only to clamp his mouth shut and drop it. Omegas couldn't speak out of turn there, he remembered at the last minute, and despite having a history with Jackson, he didn't think a vague-semblance of a friendship would save him from breaking any societal rules.
Damn.
"Wait," Parrish interrupted, hand held up, gaining the attention of the two exes. "You guys all know each other?"
The blood seemed to drain from Jackson's face, adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. The scent of guilt joined the others in the air, his blue eyes flicking to Lydia momentarily before focusing on his coworker. Stiles hid a smile behind his hand, enjoying the sight of Jackson seeming to have been busted with something and squirming under the hard stare of the one who'd caught him.
"Yeah," he replied weakly, shifting his feet, clearing his throat. "They're from my hometown. Lydia and I used to date and Stiles and I—" He paused, and the omega had a feeling it wasn't due to the second wave of aggressive territorialism. "We had the same group of friends."
Parrish slowly nodded once, frowning thoughtfully, lips slightly parted as he analyzed the other S-Dub. "So you can vouch for them?"
Another throat clearing by the blond, followed by a nod and a quick "Yes, sir." Stiles was enjoying a thrown off Jackson a lot. A lot.
"Good," Parrish summed up, turning to Lydia, soft smile of his own on his face as he moved between her and Jackson in a not so sly move. "Having a citizen of the city vouch for you will make your processing quicker and easier and you'll be free to go about your business sooner."
She nodded in response before moving aside, he moving with her, Stiles finally able to step out of the vestibule with the other two guards following, the gate shutting behind them. He peered around the space, noting a reception area set into the wall in front of them with a door on either side, glass enclosing it, TV monitors in the background showing black and white camera feeds of the outside of the building. Turning, he noted how the area stretched down either side of the corridor they'd just walked through, the space almost feeling like the waiting area of a doctor's or dentist's office. The right side held several vinyl chairs, a couple end tables covered in magazines, a TV playing some random afternoon chat show he didn't recognize with the volume a bar or two above mute, closed captions rolling along the bottom of the screen. The left contained a couple vending machines, one full of the standard junk snacks, one for bottled drinks, a third for coffee, table with sugars and creamers to the side of it. He just barely resisted the urge to sneak over and fill a cup of the hot and caffeinated for himself.
A door to the left of the reception alcove opened up, a curvy blonde striding in wearing the same tactical pants and shirt as everyone else, minus the vest and AR. A smartphone was in her hand, dark shadowed eyes trained down at it as she pushed the door shut without looking, finger tapping the screen as she walked over. "Big Guy is on his way. He's about fifteen minutes out," she informed them, voice familiar yet Stiles couldn't quite place it. "Aidan's coming with him. Braeden, Malia, and Cora are staying put to supervise everything in the woods. Can't get a hold of Laura or Big Mama Alpha, but that's to be expected given all the shit that's happening here lately."
She drew to a stop by their little group, Boyd automatically moving to her side. Stiles looked her over while she was distracted, noting plump lips painted red to match her nails, brown eyes the color of milk chocolate. A rectangular patch sat above the pocket on the left side of her shirt, white letters spelling "REYES-BOYD", leading him to believe it was a nametag of sorts.
Which was when he realized that she must've been Erica and that her voice was familiar 'cause he'd heard it over the intercom at the first wall.
Yeah, she definitely didn't look anything like the slightly mousy, darker skinned Deputy Graeme. More like "Wolfmate of the Year" potential.
Locking her phone, she slipped it into a pocket on her thigh before finally raising her eyes, letting out a gasp as they came across Stiles. Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened as they roamed him, lips flapping up and down as she tried to say something, only to wind up muttering out a "holy shit".
"Yeah," Lahey agreed with a sigh, standing over by Jackson who was still looking very much like a kid busted lying about a missing cookie. "We pretty much all had the same reaction."
Stiles and Lydia exchanged confused frowns, the redhead being the one to voice what they were both thinking. "What reaction?"
"Stiles looks exactly like him," Erica murmured absently, still staring at the omega.
His heart began pounding, wolf yipping with excitement, stomach churning and twisting in knots. There was only one person on the planet they could've been talking about, one person Stiles looked exactly like, which meant that his theory had been right: Stuart had come to Oak Creek.
Stepping closer, he forgot all about protocol and societal expectations and all that bullshit, swallowing hard before speaking. "You know Stuart?" he asked shakily, finger trembling as he pointed at her. Excitement and anticipation were rushing through his veins, feeling closer than ever. Not only had he found the right town, but he'd managed to stumble upon people who actually knew who his brother was, could lead him to Stu and reunite them and Stiles could help him and—
"Knew," Lahey corrected, stopping Stiles' heart dead in his chest and causing his racing thoughts to crash to a halt. "And yeah, we did."
Past tense.
Oh. God, no.
The dread from earlier came back five-hundred fold, tightening his chest, numbing his body to the point where all he could feel was his stomach churning and rolling and thrashing inside him and he felt like he could puke right then and there on that floor.
"Knew?" he choked out, hoping like hell he was wrong, hoping like hell Lahey was wrong. He mentally shot a long, pleading, begging prayer to a god he didn't believe in, wanting nothing more than for all of it to be just another incredibly realistic, incredibly fucked up dream.
"Oh, hun," Erica began softly, sympathetically, and all he could do was shake his head.
He was deep in denial, muttering out a constant stream of "no"s as he backed away. He could sense people parting, moving so he didn't bump into them, only stopping when he felt a wall against his back, still muttering as he flattened his body, his hands against it. She wasn't about to say it, he wasn't about to hear it. Stuart was fine, was okay, was alive. He'd feel it if he wasn't.
But hadn't he already felt it? Hadn't he been feeling it all damn day, ever since that godforsaken dream?
Feeling it was one thing though. Having it confirmed out loud was another and he'd been happy going along with Lydia's plan of acting like everything was fine and Stuart was okay until it was proven otherwise. Anything anyone was about to say would burst that bubble and force him to deal with reality, to realize that what he'd been feeling was true.
Erica peered up at her Mate, who nodded once at her wordless question. Pressing her lips together, she looked at him with watery eyes and suddenly the whole place reeked of loss and despair and Stiles was definitely gonna throw up. His knees felt weak and his head felt fuzzy and everything was blurring at the edges of his vision. Suddenly his chest was too tight, his lungs not working, and he was hyperventilating more than breathing, panic worming its way into his chest cavity and taking over.
"Sweetie, Stuart's dead. His body was found out in the woods this morning."
Stiles let out a pained grief-stricken roar so loud he was sure they heard it back in Beacon Hills.