Chapter 2 – Riding the sky

Nine Years ago

Scott watched his mother lay a bouquet of lilies on Mrs. Stilinski's grave a single tear running down her cheek. He was sad too because Mrs. Stilinski was always nice to him and made the best peanut butter brownies, even better than his own mom. But what got him the most sad was the fact that his best friend Stiles had been missing for a year now. He missed the chatter the other boy would do once he was talking about a subject that had his interest at the moment.

"Scott, I'm going back to the car. You can stay for a little while longer," Melissa called out, her eyes bright with unshed tears.

The nine year old boy with a crooked chin watched his mother make her way out of the cemetery, making him sigh softly as he approached the grave. It had been a rough year without Mrs. Stilinski's brownies and Stiles' presence. The other boy may have been diagnosed with ADHD on top of being an Omega, he had no problem in confronting the bullies they both faced. If Scott was pushed into a wall, the bully found his underwear hanging on the school's flagpole. No one knew how Stiles did it and they couldn't pin the pranks on the boy. That had made Scott happy that he had such a cool best friend.

Scott bit his bottom lip as he gazed at the gravestone, gingerly placing his hand on it. He didn't know what to say or do as he used his other hand to wipe his eyes. That was when he heard a soft yip and whimper. Curious, the boy looked behind the headstone and saw a very pretty red fox kit, staring up at him with eyes that seemed to be so much like his missing friend's.

"Wow, you're pretty," Scott whispered in awe, never having been so close to a wild animal before. He knelt down on the ground, not caring if his dress-up pants were getting stained by the dirt and the grass. As soon as he did that, the fox kit yipped and placed its front paws on the boy's legs, licking his cheeks.

The boy giggled and carefully put his arms around the kit and hugged gently, getting a couple of happy yips in return. "I think I'm going to call you Foxy," he stated and giggled a little more when the fox growled. It was apparent it didn't like the name but in Scott's mind, it fit. Soon enough, he heard his mother calling him and saw the fox bound out of the cemetery, carrying what looked like a large glass pickle jar in its jaws. He then thought he saw the fox's head accidentally slip inside the jar...

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Scott stared at the fox a little more, dumbfounded that his best friend Stiles had been the fox he had seen on the first anniversary of Mrs. Stilinski's death. He was definitely curious as to why Stiles was a fox but he reasoned that if he was patient, all of his questions would be answered. However…

Scott was not known for his patience…

"Dude, how come you never told me? Couldn't you have said anything?" the teen asked, his eyes staring at the fox.

Stiles growled at Scott and snapped his jaws at the male, making a few yips as if explaining how could he talk while in this form. He then whined a little and yipped some more. It like he was trying to explain things.

"Oh, sorry," Scott responded with a sheepish grin and ran a hand through his hair. "You can't talk like a human like this." The fox yipped in agreement and then made a chuffing sound, like he was laughing.

"Hey, I'm not that oblivious!"

More yips came out as well as the strange sound that was suspiciously like a laugh.

"Wait, you were at the school when Allison first arrived?"

And then the teen wolf and the fox appeared to have a conversation, somehow understanding one another, leaving Peter to just stare at the duo. Apparently, even though the two had been apart for ten years, they still had some way of understanding one another despite their different forms. The Alpha figured that they were somehow soulmates of a sort, the kind that they were more like brothers than anything else, not like how Scott was with Allison Argent.

"I called the Sheriff and Deaton," Derek stated as he stood in the doorway, watching Scott have a conversation with the fox. His eyebrows pinched together and then Stiles let out a loud yip and even more chuffing sounds came out.

Scott glanced over at the younger Alpha and snickered and then gave the male an unapologetic grin. "Sorry, Derek, but Stiles made a joke about your eyebrows." He then went back to talking to his friend, Derek glaring slightly.

"I think they have a bond so Scott can actually understand what the fox is saying," Peter said when he saw the confusion on his nephew's face. He heard a slight growl in his direction and saw said fox growling at him. "Oh, I'm so sorry, did His Highness want me to refer to him by his name?"

Stiles growled some more and then curled up on the bed, his fluffy tail hiding his muzzle. However, his amber eyes were peeking out in a look that could only be judging everyone else in the room as his bandaged leg was sticking out a little. He made a gekkering sound, almost as if it was a challenge and then huffed.

Scott's own eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline and then laughed, a heartwarming sound that almost brought a smile to both Alphas. The beta rarely laughed even though he smiled all the time. He glanced at the two men and grinned. "Stiles said that if he's going to be called His Highness by one Creeperwolf and glared at by a Sourwolf, then he deserves to be treated like royalty."

If Peter could do that sweatdrop in some of those anime the kitsune in the pack loved to watch, he knew that he would be doing that right now. He began to believe that Stiles is in an appropriate form since foxes were considered tricksters and pranksters in legends and lore around the world. However, when Derek glared a little more at the fox and growled slightly, he laughed as well.

"It seems to me that Stiles described you perfectly, nephew." That got the elder Alpha his own glare from Derek. "Oh don't give me that look. He's a fox and they don't really follow a pack hierarchy." That got another laugh out of Scott and the chuffing sound from Stiles.

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Nine years ago, a week later

Alan Deaton was leaving his practice early that day knowing that his employees would be able to handle whatever would come up. He felt a pull on his senses and knew that he had to follow it. He drove to the Preserve and then began walking through the thick forest. He felt at home deep within the nature of the place as he followed what his senses were pulling him towards.

Soon enough, he found himself in a small clearing and saw an empty glass pickle jar within the thick grasses of the clearing. He knelt down in order to look at it, but when he reached over to touch it, a growl came from nearby. The vet turned his head towards a sound and saw a small red fox kit, its amber eyes glaring at him. There was something about the creature that made the man hold out his hand.

"This is your treasure, isn't it?" Deaton asked softly, noticing how the fox kit tilted its head to one side and then nodded. That surprised the druid more than he would have admitted. Apparently this kit was a shifter, but it was refusing to return to human form, or it just wasn't ready to return to human form. "Are you protecting this?"

The fox whined and nodded again, yipping softly and then whimpered.

"And you're unable to protect it, aren't you?" There was an affirmative yip. "I can do that for you, little kit, I can protect it for you." Now Deaton was getting a confused stare. "I'm a druid and I can make sure to keep your treasure safe until you're ready to reclaim it. And I can make sure that you visit it as often as possible. Is that okay with you?"

The fox kit yipped in agreement and then made a gekkering sound at Deaton, causing the man to laugh softly. "No need for threats, little kit. When I make a deal, I keep it."

Present day

Deaton arrived at the Hale House as soon as he was able to when he got the call from the younger Hale Alpha. The man sounded strange on the phone, talking about a fox and a former missing child. The only fox he could think of was the one he first met nine years ago with that glass pickle jar. As he had gathered things to bring with him, his first instinct was to bring the jar with him. When it came to his magic, he had learned over the years to trust his instincts so he brought the glass jar with him.

One of the Betas, Isaac Lahey, showed the doctor inside the house and led him upstairs to the room the fox was in. Once he entered, the creature noticed him and began to chitter and yip excitedly when he saw the glass pickle jar the male was holding. Stiles tried to get up but whimpered when he moved his injured leg.

When Peter saw the glass jar, he was surprised to see Deaton carrying it along with his veterinarian bag. "That jar, I remember that. I pulled that jar off of the fox's head nine years ago." There was a growl at that and a snapping of jaws near his hand. "So sorry, Your Highness."

Stiles huffed and then looked back up at the druid with a hopeful look in his eyes. Deaton placed the jar near the fox and the creature made a sound that was suspiciously like a purr. With him distracted with the jar, Deaton carefully examined the injured leg while humming under his breath and talking to the fox.

"See, little kit, I kept my promise. Your treasure is safe and is now back with you." The druid finished examining the leg after changing the bandages on it. "So, I heard your name is Stiles and that you're the Sheriff's missing son." An affirmative yip.

"And you want to change back into your real form?" Another affirmative yip.

"I'm sorry to say, Stiles, that you're going to have to wait until that leg of yours heals completely."

Stiles whined at that and pulled his attention away from the jar and crept carefully over to the closest person carefully and buried his head into the person's leg, which happened to be Peter's leg. Instinctively, the Alpha rubbed the fox's ears, calming Stiles' down as he also took some of the pain away, black veins going up his forearm. "How long will it take for him to heal then?" Peter asked, looking at Deaton in the eyes.

The doctor thought for a moment and then smiled slightly. "Werefoxes heal almost as fast as a werewolf so Stiles should be completely healed by the morning. It's delayed a little longer since his system still has a bit of wolfsbane in it."

Derek actually started paying attention to that. "Really? Peter, didn't you say that the trap the fox-" Stiles growled at that which the younger Alpha ignored, "that the trap was laced with wolfsbane?"

The two Alphas began to think on who might have left that trap and it was was meant for Stiles. The fox tuned that out and let out a soft whine when Peter got up to leave with Derek. The older man scratched the fox's ear before leaving him alone in the bedroom with Deaton and Scott. He whined a little more and then buried his head in Scott's leg when the teen sat down on the bed next to him.

"What do you mean the Alphas smell really good?!"

AN: And here is the second chapter. This was already up on AO3 and my newer stories will be on there from now on. I'll still update here for this story though.