The imposing black car drove Stiles straight to the Pack House for Orphans. The building was situated on the outskirts of town and housed all the city's human children that had the misfortune of losing their parents. The Pack, in print and in front of the media, made a show of the lavish care they doted on the children under their protection but Stiles had lived four years of his life behind the Pack House walls and knew what awaited him.
Only human children were sent to Pack Homes. Any child of wolf parents would be immediately taken in by the rest of the pack. Pack was family and all members were cared for with the same fierce protection. Stiles, the only child of a couple with no living family, was sometimes envious of the werewolves' easy acceptance of their orphans. Life would have been so much better if some human family had taken him into their home.
Wrought iron gates with the wolf courant blazoned across the front opened slowly as the car approached. The driver and HPS officer were obviously human because they paid no attention to the panicked increase in Stiles' heart rate. The drive curved to the front of a stately building with an intricate play area on the side behind a small half fence. A dozen adorable moppets played on the slides and swings in plain sight of anyone who came up the drive.
The HPS officer leaned over and pointed out the sight to Stiles. "See? There is nothing to be afraid of here. The Hale Pack House has been run by the Argents for years and they have one of the highest ratings in the country. Laura Hale visits the site once a year to make sure all the children are properly cared for."
Stiles bit his lip and kept his mouth closed. The cute were well cared for here, paraded out to show and pet like pure bred dogs at Westminster. But the gangly and plain, or in Stiles' case the ADD, were kept out of sight, living a completely different life under the Argents' care.
The car pulled to a smooth halt in front of the grand entrance to the reception center. Stiles knew that this was just the public façade that the Home presented to the outside world. The front walkway was clean and open, warm and welcoming, it was a complete lie.
The HPS officer pointed out the many photos of happy, smiling children that lined the walls. Each picture showed a different bright eyed tike at various activities; the circus, the zoo, a famous museum. Stiles remembers the zoo trip, he wasn't allowed to go because he was not appealing enough to be in the pictures and had been left behind.
The head mistress met them before they were even half way across the room. She had brazenly red hair and was wearing a stylishly cut dress, heels, and perfect make up and accessories. Her smile was bright and friendly but Stiles knew better from experience. "Director, what can I do for you?"
"Mrs. Argent. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice. I have a rather unusual case. This young man here is the True Mate of Derek Hale but he does not reach his majority for another six weeks. His family was killed in a car wreck and he has been living on his own for the last four years. The Hales need to avoid any impropriety in this matter with the media so we felt it best that he stays here until he is of age for Derek to claim as his True Mate and Mark."
Victoria Argent smiled and nodded at all the right places, even managing to look concerned at one point but the glares she sent Stiles when the director wasn't looking were enough to make his blood run cold.
"I am so happy that we can help in this matter. Please come this way."
"I think I would be fine staying with the Hales." Stiles backed toward the door but Victoria grabbed him by the hand, her friendly open smile hiding the strength of her grip that twisted the fragile bones of his hand.
"Don't be silly dear; we wouldn't want to cause the Hales' any problems." Victoria linked her arm around Stiles' and tugged him toward the back of the large, brightly lit room. To the casual observer the linked arms would look caring but Stiles knew the danger he was in, could feel the threat in the way her nails dug into his flesh just shy of drawing blood.
The director of the HPS kept up a steady stream of babble as he followed Victoria. "I don't know how he's stayed on the streets for so long. Laura Hale is not happy. If there is one lost child out on the streets there could be more. How did he slip through the cracks? He never should have been on his own."
Victoria made agreeing noises all the while her eye bore into Stiles'. "It's such a tragedy that so many humans still fear the Weres. I've heard other stories of children raised by parents in fear that have tried to live on the streets but Stiles is the first I've ever met. I'm sure once we get him settled he will see how much better it is in a Home than out on the streets."
Stiles snorted under his breath but was too terrified of the red head to speak.
"Let me get Stiles back to the infirmary so that our doctors can look over him. Thank you so much for bringing him Director. I'm sure you have plenty of work to do, I would hate to take up more of your precious time."
The director preened under her praise and Stiles rolled his eyes at the sheer stupidity of the man, thinking that Victoria's ego stroking should be evident to even the densest of men.
"I'll come along for just a bit longer. I'm sure Alpha Hale will be asking about the young man's health and I want to be able to assure him that I saw to his treatment with my own eyes. Unmated alphas are unpredictable and having found his True Mate yet being unable to complete the Claim will make speaking with him difficult."
Victoria smiled. Stiles couldn't help but compare it to the wide, razor tipped tooth filled grin of a great white shark, complete with the mental sound track. Shark grin firmly in place Victoria lead the two past the public area that Stiles was vaguely familiar with to a back area that he never even knew existed.
The Home clinic was clearly another public PR area. Stiles had a few scars whose inexpert stitching proved that he had never been in this state of the art medical facility.
A small curly haired girl was resting on a cot with a warm, motherly looking nurse holding her hand. If not for the fear Stiles could plainly see in her blue eyes, it would have looked like the perfect example of what a clinic should be; clean, well lit, and caring. Too bad it was all just for show.
A second smiling nurse in a crisp white outfit hurried to great Victoria, taking possession of Stiles and helping him over to another cot, treating his cuts and scrapes while the doctor talked to the director.
"Mr. Director, it was so kind of you to bring this young man all the way back. It is so refreshing to see officials such as yourself taking an interest in the lives of our unfortunate. I'm Doctor Merran and I will be in charge of this young man's care."
Victoria Argent rested her hand on the director's arm. "You can trust us to take good care of him. Poor dear." Turning back she smiled at Stiles but her eyes were cold.
Slipping her arm around the director she led him back out of the clinic. "We need to get all the paperwork you have on the poor dear. I want to make his short stay here with us as comfortable as possible."
As soon as the director was out of the room the demeanor of the nurses and doctor changed. Pushing Stiles back on the cot the doctor pulled out a pair of cuffs and chained him to the low railing on the bottom of the frame. "Mr. Argent will be in to see you in just a moment." The doctor left without looking back.
"Back to your room Molly." The not so motherly nurse snarled as she pulled the girl off her cot and shoved her toward the back door. "Make sure you stay clean in case we need you again today."
Both nurses followed the doctor out the back of the clinic leaving Stiles chained to the cot in the middle of the room. Stiles wasted little time. His father had been a sheriff and he had spent many hours unbeknownst to his dad playing with the handcuffs. You don't spend that much time playing with handcuffs without learning a trick or two.
By the time Gerard Argent strode into the clinic Stiles had his hand free but had yet to make his escape. "Shit," whispered Stiles as he wished for just a couple of minutes more.
"Stiles," Gerard oozed. "So good to see you again." He kept his hand in his pocket; body turned as if to hide something from Stiles' sight but Stiles had survived in this hell hole for over three years and knew that children who had personal meeting with the House supervisor were rarely seen again.
"I can't have you talking to your mate about us here. Those animals tend to believe their mates about anything and I can't have you bringing the Hales' attention down on us, now can I? It is a shame that we don't have time to condition you properly. You could have been an asset to us. Oh, well. Spilt milk and all that."
"I think my dying while under your care would bring their attention down a lot faster than anything I could say to them.
"Oh, it will be a rough couple of weeks. Too bad for Nurse Kelly that some heads will have to roll. Such a shame we didn't know about your allergies before administering those antibiotics. The nurse should have been watching you more closely. Victoria and I will be so distraught, I'll even offer to resign but knowing that mewing Laura she won't hold me accountable for someone else's mistake, especially when they find the items planted in her belongings."
"God, you just love to hear yourself talk, don't you? I thought only comic book super villains fucking monologued like that."
Gerard looked annoyed for an instant before his face smoothed back to his gentle grandpa expression. "Just passing the time Stiles. Any last words?" He pulled a long needled syringe out of his pocket and turned to face Stiles.
"Yeah, I hate shots." Stiles kicked with everything he had, hitting the old man under the chin and bolting from the clinic and out toward the front entrance. He slammed into a startled Victoria, knocking her to the ground before charging out the front door and down the drive.
The iron gates at the front had already closed but there was enough room for a skinny kid to slither under if they didn't mind losing a bit of skin and Stiles knew that a few more cuts and scrapes were better than ending up in a shallow grave. Stiles ran until he could duck into the thin cover of the trees that lined the road, heading for the river that ran alongside the freeway for a few miles. He knew that crossing it would cover his tracks making it harder for the Argents to follow him.
This whole day had been a crap fest and it was all just a shit load of trouble for an apple he thought as he took one last look at the orphanage he left behind again.
AN: Special thanks to courseofhonour for catching all the tense mistakes I tend to make. Past…present…future…maybe I'm a TimeLord.