The basement are being cleansed. Stiles is still a little pissed, but for other reasons than the day before. Alex shares a long kept in secret with Isaac. Allison makes up her mind about the move and the whole pack business. Alex and Stiles shares a moment that satisfies them both. Their stalker is finally revealed, but not for everybody.

It was early morning and still quite dark. There was a glow in the east, foretelling that it wouldn't be that long until the sun rose. He went to the house alone. Not only because he preferred to work without any onlookers, but any werewolf nearby could possibly be in danger during this particular cleansing.

Derek had given him the key to get in. After looking around approvingly, and a little bit surprised about how far they'd gotten, he descended the stairs to the basement. There, he put his bag on the bottom stair and dug out everything he'd needed.

Dr Deaton spread the chips of mountain ash and the wolfsbane petals all over the floor. Werwolves had died in here, and he had to force the spirits out with what he had. He uttered a few hash words, that for anyone listening in would sound like gibberish, before he lit candles and placed them in the corners of the room.

After another tirade, Deaton sunk to his knees and threw a lit mach on the floor. It exploded into flames, but he stayed put in his place, mumbling silently as he held his hands out to the side as if he was holding the flames away from his own body.

A couple of minutes later the fire died down by itself. No traces of it were left except for a few singed petals and the ashes of the burnt wood. He took a few steps towards the stairs and closed his eyes. He wasn't quite sure – Lydia was the only one who could tell – but he thought he'd managed.

He knew that Stiles would be there soon. Before the place was completely cleaned up, no werewolf would be able to enter the basement, so he had called Stiles in to help. It was important to remove every little speck before Derek and the others arrived.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Stiles stared at Derek with a frown on his face. His boyfriend was stretching out after a short work-out session in the morning. There were no indications that the flogging last night bothered him. When Derek slapped Stiles, or scratched him, or whatever little thing he did to inflict pain, Stiles could always feel it long after; sometimes for days. He didn't mind. It was something very arousing about touching the scars Derek had left.

He had to get up insanely early because he'd promised Dr Deaton that he'd help him with the cleansing of the basement. The fact that he hardly got enough sleep didn't help much on his mood.

When Derek came over to the couch, he obviously noticed Stiles' disgruntled expression. "What's up? Still tired and grumpy?" He grabbed the glass of water that was standing on the table and emptied it in one big gulp before he again addressed Stiles. "Come on. Tell me what's wrong."

With a heavy sigh, Stiles looked away. He knew it was silly to be annoyed by this. "Uh, nothing. It's just... nothing." He put on a fake smile as he turned back to Derek, and it was perfectly clear that Derek didn't believe him.

"Okay, okay. I'm being silly, but it would have been nice if you wouldn't heal so fast." He could feel the blush, but there shouldn't be any secrets between them, so he continued. "I wanted your ass to burn, so you'd be reminded about what happened last night."

Derek rolled his eyes and chuckled a little. "Sorry about that, but do not ever believe I will forget." He sat down and patted his crotch quickly. "Last night's event will be a treasured memory for me till the day I die."

Stiles bit the inside of his lip an cocked his head. "Really? That special?" He suddenly wasn't so pissed anymore. Derek nodded. "Yeah, really. You better believe it." He seemed a little reluctant to continue, but then he threw his hands out an sighed. "I have never been with any human that would have even dared to try."

With a scoff, Stiles got up and moved towards the bathroom. "You had to mention it. Please just remind me of how many it was before me?" He opened the door before he turned around and looked at Derek. "I didn't mean that. Don't tell me."

In two quick steps, Derek was standing in front of him. "Are you going to make this another argument?" He grabbed Stiles' hand and lifted it to his lips. "We've been through this before, there's no need for you to be jealous."

Stiles ripped his hand loose and patted Derek's cheek. "I know, but I might need to punish you for it at one point in time." He gave Derek a crocked smile as he was about to enter the bathroom. "I mean..." He didn't get to continue before he had Derek's forefinger on his lips. "Don't. I know what you mean. And you know... I wasn't aware of the fact that punishment could feel so good."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Isaac and Alex were painting the walls in the kitchen. It went pretty well; Chris would have been proud. Alex had insisted on it being light blue, and since nobody else really cared, he'd got his will. Derek had also let him pick the tiles for the floor and he'd chosen a checkerboard pattern in black and white marble. Alex' initial plan was to go with vinyl tiles, but Derek had put his foot down and demanded that it had to be ceramic or stone.

It wasn't a secret why Alex had these specific ideas. He'd shared willingly when the others asked him. "My happiest memories from childhood was when I helped my mom in the kitchen. It was blue with black and white linoleum tiles."

He'd previously shared tidbits from his childhood with Isaac, but this was new. "My stepfather redecorated it when I was around six. He took my childhood away in so many ways at that point."

Isaac didn't think Alex had been sexually abused by his step-dad, but the way he talked about his childhood being gone was a little suspicious. "What did he do? I mean... did he..." Isaac didn't manage to say the words, but Alex understood what he meant. "No, he never... although spanking a little boy's bare butt could for some people be perceived as sexual abuse."

Alex talked about it without emotion. It seemed like it didn't bother him anymore, but that night he'd cried himself to sleep. It happened a couple of weeks ago, and hadn't been mentioned since.

As they stood there together painting, Isaac noticed that Alex was wiping his eyes ever so often. He wasn't sure if he should ask, but when his boyfriend suddenly slumped down on the floor and covered his face with his hands, Isaac rushed over.

"I miss her so much. She chose to stay with him, but I still love her." Alex swallowed hard and seemed to try to compose himself. Isaac sat down with him and wrapped an arm around him. "I understand. She's your mom; your blood." He knew exactly how Alex felt. Even if Isaac was fine getting away from his father, he still missed him somewhat. There had been moments where the two of them had been happy, and he'd really never wished him dead.

Alex leaned his head on Isaac's shoulder. "I want to find her. I don't know if I want to see her, but I want to know if she's okay." Isaac stroke his back. "Did she even look for you?" He knew that question could bring out more tears, but Alex just sighed. "Yeah, Yeah, she did. I'm one of those missing children that was never found."

He started get up from the floor. "We should continue. I'm sorry." Alex walked over to the window. "I can sew curtains also." He huffed audibly. "She taught me that too." He turned around slowly. "She reported me missing, but it took more than five years before I knew." With a lopsided smile, he grabbed the paintbrush and stared down at it. "A customer recognized me from a flier and wanted to save me, but I threatened to tell everybody how he met me, so he let it go."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Allison was on her way to the loft with a few things Alex wanted to borrow. They were planning a birthday party and he wanted to make a cake, but Derek's kitchen missed a few essential items. She didn't know exactly what he needed, so she'd brought the whole content of her mom's 'cake-making-drawer.'

On her way she thought about how the future would look for her, and she wondered how this pack-leader-business worked. If an alpha created a new werewolf, they'd be connected and he'd be part of the alpha's pack unless he chose to walk away. In this particular pack, it was different. The only one left of Derek's old pack was Isaac. With Isaac and Alex attached by the hip, and the fact that they 'saved' him from Hester, Alex was probably bonded with them. Stiles was a totally different story. He was human and didn't really count.

At the moment, she and Scott were lone wolves. The fact that they both were Alphas made it possible, but a pack would give them more strength and stability. Turning someone in order to build a pack went against all her instincts at the moment, but she knew that that could change.

Moving in to the house could possibly make her part of the pack, but she didn't really feel it. It had to be something supernatural that triggered the pack-mentality, but she was unable to grasp it at the moment.

She knew for sure that Scott would follow her lead. If she decided to break loose and form a new pack, he'd be with her for sure. As things were now, she didn't really want that either. Her father and Stiles were the only ones nagging about it, and she suspected that as humans, they didn't know how exactly werewolves bonded with one another.

Not that Allison felt completely educated about it either, but something was tugging her towards this house and this pack.

She was very aware of the complications in hers and Derek's relationship. When they first met, she was a hunter, and was determined to take him down. She was pretty sure that Derek would never forget that. If he'd hold it against her was another story. It didn't seem like he carried a grudge, and he had been the one who'd saved her from herself.

She thought about the room that they build especially for her, and she knew she wanted it. It was going to happen. If that meant she was in Derek's pack, so be it. They could live there together, all six of them. It would be like a normal household where everybody had to do their chores. If anything came up that would require the pack-leader to intervene, she'd help Derek solve it.

Arriving at the loft, she called to let them know she was there, and as she entered through the front door, Alex came running down the stairs to help her. He was always so sweet and friendly, and he treated her with the utmost respect, but she knew he was scared of her. She'd killed Hester with her bare hands right in front of him, and it had to have left an impact.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

It was still a couple of days until the party, but Alex was already working on the menu. He had so far denied any help and was ruling the kitchen with determination. When Stiles snuck in there and tried to grab a couple of olives, he almost got hit with a spatula. Alex apologized, and he let him take them, but it was perfectly clear that he wasn't happy about the interference.

Derek was at the Hale-house and had been for most of the day, so he didn't get to enjoy this side of Alex. Stiles had to admit that it was kind of funny watching him. It was also quite astounding how he managed to do several things at once. A dough was rising in a bowl by the window; he was stirring the ground beef that was sizzling in a pan on the stove, and in a big pot he had tomato-sauce simmering.

Ever so often, he dipped a teaspoon in the sauce and tasted it, before he threw in some spices and stirred it again. Recipes was lying around everywhere, but he didn't seem to look at them at all. Piles of fresh vegetables and fruits covered a good portion of the counter, and in between them there were jars of stuff that Stiles didn't know what was.

What Stiles found most surprising, was that in between all of this, Alex managed to make lunch for Derek and Chris. He packed it in a small cooler and shipped Isaac off with it, before he continued cooking without missing a beat.

Stiles had to go to work in an hour, and he'd wondered if he would get a bite to eat before he left. After the spatula-incident, he was a little worried that he'd have to starve. He worked at a pizza place so he could get something there, but it would have been nice to get a sandwich right now.

Alex seemed quite relaxed at the moment. The meat was obviously done. The sauce was doing okay by itself, and the dough wasn't ready yet. Stiles decided to take a chance. "Um, Alex, I wonder..." He walked over to the kitchen, but stopped before he came too close. "Can I make a sandwich or something? I'm kinda hungry."

Alex dug an ovenproof pan out of the cupboard before he turned briefly. "Hungry? Give me a second." He bent down and looked into the oven. "I guess they're done." Stiles didn't even know that Alex had something in the oven too, and he got even more amazed by the guy's ability to multitask.

"I made these just to try. You can be my taster." Alex put on a mitt and pulled a pan out of the oven. It was just small slices of bread, and Stiles got a little disappointed. Alex arranged some of them on a plate before he went to the fridge. "Just sit. I'll bring it to you."

A few minutes later, Stiles had a plate in front of him. Some of the toasted bread had tomatoes mixed with herbs, and the rest of them were generously covered with some meat and topped with something that looked like chopped peaches.

It smelled delicious and he could feel his mouth water. "It's prosciutto." Alex pointed to the meat. "An Italian cured ham." Stiles didn't really care. He wanted to taste it right now. "Thanks, I'll let you know what I think."

He tried the tomato mix first and did not get disappointed. It was like a small feast in his mouth. The herbs and spices were in perfect harmony, and he could also recognize the nutty flavor from the olive oil. He was more skeptical about the Italian ham – with peaches?

The blend of sweet fruit and salty meat was surprisingly good. It was a very unfamiliar flavor, but he liked it a lot. "This is... Alex you are amazing. This is so good. Thank you."

-o-o-o-o-

Eric snuck out the backdoor and headed towards the treeline. He had done something terrible, but the state of things made it unlikely that anyone would find out. The motorcycle stood where he'd left it. It wasn't brand new, but it was in good shape and would take him to Beacon Hills in no time.

With full access to the accounts, he'd withdrawn enough money to buy it; pretty sure it would take time before anyone questioned the missing funds.

Troy had obviously not told the girls about his nightly trips to Beacon Hills yet, and until that happened, he would keep going there. Troy would possibly be fooled by the fact that he didn't take a car this time, but Eric waited for almost an hour watching the mansion to see if he was followed.

When he was sure, he walked the bike several hundred yards before he dared to start it up. He'd picked this particular bike because it was quiet, but he still didn't want to risk being heard.

In the woods in Beacon Hills, he'd found a narrow path that led almost to the back of the house. With the motorcycle, he could park fairly close, but he chose to cut the engine long before he could see the site.

He'd told himself that he was spying on Derek Hale's pack in order to learn more about their enemy, but it wasn't even close to the truth anymore. Many nights - including the last couple - he'd come there long after the pack had left.

With the doors and windows installed, it wasn't so easy to get into the house, but he'd managed to find a way. Slowly sneaking through the shrubbery, he tried not to make a sound. He knew they had discovered that someone was spying on them, and worried that they were guarding the house.

He got startled when he heard someone whistle a familiar tune. He remembered it as being one of the pieces Joy used as a warm up when she played the piano. He froze in his steps and held his breath. The whistling stopped. "Eric! I know you're there."

-o-o-o-o-o-

Alex wasn't sure if it was the best idea he'd ever had, but he needed to know. Sneaking out in the middle of the night wasn't easy. He knew that if Isaac or Derek were awake, they'd hear him leave. He tried to be as quiet as possible as he descended the stairs and excited the building. He didn't dare to take a car, so he ran all the way to the Hale-house.

The car that he'd seen so many times by the crossroad wasn't there, and he wondered if he'd picked the wrong night. He found a spot on the porch where the light from the waning moon wouldn't hit him, and he waited.

About twenty minutes later, he heard the purr from a motorcycle engine. It came closer, but got cut off long before he could see it. In the quiet of the night, he could hear a small sound as the kickstand hit the gravel. The person moved with great stealth, but Alex could still hear him. The faint rustle in the leaves and ever so often a creak when a foot stepped on a tree-root, told him that he was closing in. He would never have noticed these sounds if he didn't know that someone was coming.

Alex wasn't aware of it himself, but he suddenly realized that he was whistling. A small gasp from behind him made him stop. He didn't know who it was but decided to take a chance. "Eric! I know you're there."

It took a few moments before he saw the outline of a character emerge from the bushes. The next second he recognized Eric and sighed in relief. "It is you. Thank God." A little worried about the reason for the visit, he decided to stay put just in case.

Eric moved forward until he was clearly visible in the moonlight. "I've missed you. I was curious about your new life." He gave Alex crocked smile. "I'm not here to cause any trouble." Alex cleared his throat. He was on the brink of crying, but managed to hold it back. "I missed you too." He got up and jumped off the porch before he ran over and threw himself into Eric's arms. "I'm so happy here, but I'm thinking about you every day."

For a few minutes, they just held on to each other before Alex pulled back. "But why? Have you been here many times?" Eric nodded as he walked over to the porch and sat down. "Yeah, many, many times." He drew his breath and exhaled audibly. "Troy knows. This is possibly the last time I can come."

Alex patted his friend's shoulder. "No! Don't say that. We're brothers." He scooted closer. "I have a peace offering." Digging through his pocket he, found the necklace and presented it to Eric. "It's what's left of her. I'm sure the girls would want it."