Their first pack meet was only two days later. With the additions of Stiles, Scott, and surprisingly Allison, Derek had opted for the whole group to meet out on the preserve at the old Hale house. Stiles had asked Scott about it after he'd had something to eat and slept the rest of the night. Scott planned to join even before Stiles had turned. Allison was the odd one out now as the only 'human' but she brought her own skills to the table.

She'd been trained in martial arts and hand-to-hand fighting since before she could remember. The girl could not only shoot a standard bow but a crossbow as well as use various other weapons. Stiles had to admit she could be a force to be reckoned with. It was a good thing she was on their side. Chris had wanted to move them out of Beacon Hills after his father and sisters deaths. Allison argued against it. She was 18. She'd told her father that he could leave if he wanted but she was staying. She wanted to finish her last year of school here with her friends.

Allison staying brought another perk. They had access to her families bestiary now. The flash drive that contained it had been hidden among Gerard's weapons. She brought it to the pack meet so that Peter could access it and hopefully look more into what was going on with Lydia. And maybe understand why Stiles had reacted to the mountain ash before he'd even been turned.

In the two days since he'd turned Stiles had to wonder if he was actually a werewolf. It was easy enough to recall how Scott's eyes shifted golden whenever he stressed or got anxious or angry or overwhelmed or anything really. The claws extended. The fangs dropped. None of that had happened to him. The only real difference that Stiles had noticed was the ability to hear and see and sense things with greater clarity.

The pack meeting was brief and not at all what he'd been expecting, if he were honest. Mostly, it consisted of Derek welcoming Scott and Stiles to the pack and offering Allison an honorary place within their pack. So long as she promised not to try and kill any of them. Something she readily agreed to before handing over the bestiary to Peter. Derek informed the pack that their regularly scheduled meeting would be held that Saturday morning and that from now on they would meet on Wednesday mornings as well. Once school was in session again it would be in the evenings to accommodate their schedules.

Erica and Boyd scampered pretty quickly when they were dismissed. Boyd had taken a job as a security guard at a hotel downtown and Erica was working at a coffee shop near it. The two didn't seem to go too far from one another. Everyone else lingered. Jackson stuck close to Lydia, who hovered around Peter as he scrolled through the contents of the bestiary on his laptop. Derek and Allison, with Scott at her side, discussed potential training techniques using Allison's own skills. As in, having her fire arrows or throw knives at the wolves.

It sounded too much like putting herself in harms way to him. Isaac sidled up to him, hands in his pockets. "You alright?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Stiles quirked a brow in his direction from his place against a tree. His gaze lingered on what had been done to the Hale house. Which wasn't much. The foundation had been laid with a basement and everything, but that was the extent. Years of work and there was so little to show for it. It was disheartening. He wondered if it could become a pack project: finishing the house before winter.

"You've been quiet since you got here." Isaac countered.

"I guess I'm just trying to figure it all out."

"What's there to figure? You got bit, you turned, you're a werewolf."

"Am I though? I mean, I've seen all of you guys go all wolfy but I haven't. Not even a little." Isaac went quiet for a short spell, watching Derek, Scott and Allison talk. Stiles noticed the other boys gaze lingering on Allison and that the air around him was bitterly scented. "She's not like the rest of her family. She was there trying to help us."

"Yeah. I guess." He exhaled and raked a hand back through his hair before it was tucked back into his pocket. "What if she and Scott break up and she decides she doesn't like wolves anymore? We're all in trouble. Especially if Derek's going to let her train with us. She'll know all our moves."

"Paranoid much?"

"I'd just rather not have to worry about someone I should trust stabbing me in the back." There was that bitterness surrounding him again and Stiles was reminded of how Isaac had been turned to begin with. Someone he should have been able to trust without question had been trying to literally kill him when the Alpha attacked. It only made sense that he would have such distrust for anyone who could harm him. Particularly a hunter whose family was known for killing his kind.

"I get it. We'll keep an eye on her but I really don't think she's someone we have to worry about. Her dad, maybe." A soft chuckle escaped him that Isaac joined in on. Stiles reached out to clap him on the shoulder.

"So, your claws and teeth haven't shown up?" He questioned after the laughter died.

Stiles realized that the others were listening. Even if they weren't looking at him across that distance, they were listening. All of the wolves ears had turned just slightly toward he and Isaac. A week ago that might have been comforting. Now, with the threat eliminated, it was irksome. "Nope." He popped the 'p' and shrugged.

"I guess it's different for everyone. Boyd said his didn't until shortly before that first full moon."

"Full moon's less than a week away, dude."

Isaac only shrugged a shoulder. "Maybe you're like Lydia, then? Not really a wolf but something else."

"Maybe." That could explain the mountain ash thing. Although, from what he'd understood Lydia hadn't had any issue with the ash. Now or before. He went silent again, watching Peter sit at a decrepit looking picnic table not far from the foundation. Its wooden bench sagged under his and Lydia's weight. Jackson stood behind them, staring down at the laptop screen with only a vague interest.

Allison laughed at something said between she and Derek that Stiles hadn't been paying attention to. She leaned into Scott as they talked, chatting animatedly about different things they could try while training that would keep her safe from the werewolf claws and teeth. Scott almost looked wounded that he wasn't the sole focus of her attention and Stiles chuckled to himself about it. The way his best friend mooned over the girl was almost hilarious. And definitely adorable.

"AHA!" Peter exclaimed from across the clearing, drawing everyone's attention. "Lydia, my dear, we may have an answer!" Stiles rolled his shoulder to push himself off of the tree at the same time the others began crowding around the table. Lydia cast an endearing smile toward Peter while waiting, semi patiently. The elder male looked her over a moment before chuckling. "There aren't many supernatural creatures within this who maintain their human forms all of the time. You, darling, have. One option is a Medusi, though we've all looked you in the eye and not turned to stone so I sincerely doubt you're one."

Jackson scoffed, "you really thought she could be hiding snakes in her hair?"

"Mm, no, the bestiary states that only the original Medusa had snakes, her descendants did not. They did retain her ability to turn men to stone, however. Ones that offend them, at any rate." Peter shook his head, dismissing the idea entirely. "Another is a Siren. While you are no doubt gorgeous, I've heard you sing and it's dreadful."

Lydia laughed and rolled her eyes. "Okay, so we've ruled out what you think I am not. Can we get to what I am?" One perfectly plucked eyebrow arched.

"Yes, yes. So impatient." Peter teased fondly. It was clear to Stiles, now more than ever, that the relationship Peter had built with those Derek found was almost fatherly, bordering on doting uncle. "Drum roll? Anyone?" After a brief sweep of those standing he sighed heavily, as though offended no one had indulged him. "We are left with Banshee. She'd woken screaming. She knew where we were and sensed the danger behind it. Even without knowing who would die, you knew someone would. Perhaps without realizing that, though the fact still stands. Curious that each of these only affect women."

His attention returned to the screen, fascinated by what he was reading. Lydia blinked, registering surprise. "Banshee? As in 'omen of death'."

"Not omen," Peter turned back to her with a soft laugh. "They do not bring death. Banshee's can sense any supernatual death and feel it more strongly with someone they care for."

"That sounds like a burden." Her full lips pursed, looking thoroughly displeased.

Stiles chuckled softly and shook his head. "Are you kidding? That's awesome! It means if any one of us might die, you'll know and we can prevent it... right?" Hopefully. He glanced toward Peter to back him up on it.

The guy actually nodded. "It says here," he pointed at the screen, "that actions may be taken to prevent said death but only if the Banshee recognizes the signs ahead of time."

"Again. A burden." Lydia frowned, unimpressed.

"Lydia, my father told me the bestiary may not be entirely accurate on everything. There's still a lot that even the most experienced hunters don't know. It might be better than you think." Allison reasoned, casting a gentle smile at her best friend. The redhead made a sound of discontent though seemed relaxed by Allison's words. A little, anyway.

"What did you find about the mountain ash?" Stiles piped up from over Peter's shoulder. He'd managed to wedge himself between Jackson and Scott.

"Unfortunately, not much." Peter didn't look away from the screen now, scrolling through a few pages. Stiles could tell that at one point the entire bestiary had been hand written, with drawings and sketches and notations added by a variety of different hands. Though as it was updated and the yellowed pages had been uploaded, there were typed notes as well. Things the Argent's had learned or made corrections to over time.

The elder male pulled the flash drive from his laptop and passed to back to Allison who pocketed it. Given that the bestiary hadn't vanished from his screen Stiles was willing to bet Peter had downloaded it. Smart. Though, he'd long since had the impression that Peter was far more intelligent than he let on sometimes.

"How much is 'not much'?" Derek asked, those brows shifting upward. He was the only one who hadn't crowded behind Peter, but stood on the opposite side of the table.

"That there are a few inklings of ideas behind it, though nothing concrete. Given that Stiles hasn't shown any true signs of being a wolf yet, it could still mean too many things to point toward anything viable."

The expression that fell over Derek's features bordered between irritation and apprehension. It was almost back to brooding. An all too familiar one and one Stiles was stupidly fond of. Derek raised his arms to cross them as his eyes bled bright red. Without warning he snarled out a short howl. In response the wolves eyes all flashed golden. Including Stiles', though he couldn't see it himself. What he could see was that everything, briefly, came into sharper focus. He could see the individual hairs in Derek's beard, the exact shade of red in the Alpha's eyes, the wet glint of his fangs.

A smug sort of smirk tugged at his lips as Derek turned back to Peter while inclining his head toward Stiles. "Wolf." The others looked at him at the same time and Stiles found himself focusing on a drawing of rowan berries on Peter's laptop to avoid their stares.

–

While everyone began to take their leave several hours later, Derek pulled Stiles aside. "We need to teach you control before the full moon next week. I'd rather not have a feral wolf to hunt down and give Argent any reason to break our already tenuous pact."

"No shit, dude."

"Don't call me 'dude'." It was said reflexively, as though he barely even noticed the words escaping him. "We can practice. Whenever you want."

"How?"

Derek flicked his wrist to allow the sharp claws to slick into place. "Try it." Stiles frowned at the 'order' though obliged him and flicked his own. Nothing happened. "Again." Nothing. "Relax. You're thinking about it too much."

Relax. Relax. Yeah, because that was ever easy for him to do. Stiles couldn't remember the last time he had been relaxed. He let his eyes close and inhaled deeply. He repeated this several times, breathing in and out in the hopes it would let him relax or allow his mind to wander. He'd never been very good at not getting distracted. With being able to hear everything around him it provided even more distraction than he used to have.

His mother had always joked that he was immune to things like meditation and he was certain that that held true still. Unfortunately. With a slow breath in he focused on what Derek's face from earlier had looked like, that smug smirk that caused a faint stirring in him. Exhaling, Stiles felt his shoulders droop. Shaking out his hand, his nails snagged at the hem of his shirt in the motion which brought a faint pout to his lips. When his eyes opened it was to see Derek smiling at him. Glancing down he noted that his 'nails' had grown out into sharp claws.

Flexing his fingers with the thought to make them go away again, they retracted. He flicked his wrist again and they slid right back into place. Stiles let out a short, gleeful laugh when he made them vanish and reappear again.

"And you were worried." Stiles tried to ignore the jolt in his stomach at the sight of that smirk on Derek's face.

"Yeah, well you never had to worry about it, Mr. born wolf." His eyes rolled, reverting back to sarcasm by means of deflection.

One shoulder twitched upward in a shrug, "even born wolves have to learn control, Stiles. We're not born knowing exactly what to do, when. We just adapt to it easier than those who are bitten. Most of the time."

He remembered Derek having said how easily Boyd had taken to being a wolf and how Jackson had bragged. "Did you struggle with it?"

"A little more than my sisters." He nodded, a far off look in his eye.

Stiles figured he was reminiscing about the family he'd lost. He gave him a few moments with his thoughts before interrupting by clearing his throat. "Are you and Peter planning to go looking for them again?"

Derek heaved a sigh and shrugged while shaking his head. "I don't know. It's been years. We figure at least one of them has to be alive since the power hasn't shifted to Peter, but we don't even know where to look. We don't know what pack they're with." He sounded so defeated it broke Stiles' heart. The scent of misery only made it worse. "And now I have all of you to look after. I can't just go running off."

"I could.. I could help, ya know? The rest of the pack could…"

"You guys have school starting soon."

"True, but I'm pretty good with research. I can help, Derek." He paused, eyes locked onto the slightly taller guy, his voice softer yet imploring when he spoke next. "Let me help."

Derek studied him. The silence stretched on for what felt like an eternity before he finally nodded. He didn't say anything further on it, though. As if he weren't very hopeful that Stiles could make much of a difference.

With Derek's gaze still lingering on him Stiles felt his cheeks warming and cleared his throat again, looking toward the ground as a hand rose to comb back through his hair. He then nodded toward the house. Or the start of it. "You know, the pack could help with rebuilding, too."

"Peter and I were talking about that yesterday, actually. Use it as both a bonding experience and strength training." He seemed glad for the change in subject, what with how enthusiastically he jumped onto talking about it. "We talked about making sure everyone in the pack had their own rooms, too. It might end up larger than it was originally." A soft laugh escaped him and Stiles took the opportunity to stare at him again.

"You guys have plans drawn up for it?"

"Peter's working on them, while also working on a hundred other things." His eyes flicked upward, though it was with fondness. Stiles was glad that Derek hadn't lost his entire family.

–

"Stiles!"

"Wha-?" He lurched off of his drool damp pillow and gazed bleary-eyed through the dim light spilling into his room.

"I swear, if you slept any harder I'd think you were dead." Noah shook his head from the doorway, "I got called in early. We'll have to take a rain check on school shopping."

"Could have sent a text, pops." He groaned and flopped back onto his pillow, still half-asleep though now that he'd been woken he was drawing closer to being more awake than asleep.

"Might as well started getting yourself in the habit of waking up early, kid. Senior year is starting soon."

"Two weeks, dad. I have two weeks.." His voice muffled by the pillow.

He heard his father sigh and was sure the man had rolled his eyes. "I'll see you tonight."

"Yeah, ye- wait!" He popped upward again, "I'm crashing at Scott's tonight, remember?"

"Right." Noah hadn't remembered. His son had a pretty gull schedule since their return to Beacon Hills. "I'll see you later, kid. I love you."

"Love you too, old man." Stiles cast a smile toward his father that he wasn't sure he'd seen given the low light.

Once the door was closed he dropped back against the pillow but was too awake to sleep now. Tonight was the full moon. He wasn't actually staying at Scott's. He'd be out on the preserve with the rest of the pack and Stiles would be lying if he said he wasn't even remotely nervous about it.

Rolling over, he threaded his hands over his stomach. Staring at the ceiling he could see the lights from outside dance across it through the curtain. He heard the crunch of gravel as his father pulled away, leaving only the sounds of crickets and early rising birds in its wake. Heaving a breath, Stiles grabbed his phone to check the time. 6:34am. Jesus, it was too early.

With his mind already filled though, he knew there was zero chance of falling back to sleep. So, he climbed out of bed, went to the bathroom, then trekked down to the kitchen for a snack. Something he could eat while at his desk. He settled on an apple and a glass of strawberry milk because he liked milk and strawberry syrup never hurt anyone.

Once settled he waited for the laptop to power back on. He'd spent the last few days searching possible locations for where a pack of werewolves could be hiding out. Ones that might have Derek's sister and cousin. So far, he hadn't had as much luck as he'd been hoping but he was determined. Even if Derek hadn't seemed persuaded that he could make a difference that stubborn streak always prevailed.

As always, once he set his mind to doing something there was very little that could deter him. All he'd scrounged up was the potential for something supernatural in Des Moines, Iowa where there were reports of howls in the night. The local police believed it to be a bunch of kids goofing around. Stiles was apt to believe it too, Des Moines was pretty well populated and people were hearing the howls in their suburban backyards through all hours of the day and night. The only truly supernatural thing that seemed to be happening there came in the form of tornadoes. Iowa averaged around 50 per year, Des Moines saw roughly 5 in a good year. They'd had 12 in the last three months alone.

That didn't scream werewolf pack, though. Maybe witches or their equivalent. Not wolves.

There was some promise in the animal attacks around the Appalachian range in Chillicothe, Ohio. Animal attacks. Reports of seeing beastly people at night. Strange sounds. Missing people. It could just be a Sasquach or something, but he figured it could do with some looking into. He'd come across one article the night before but had been too tired to really read it. The page was still up when he powered on his laptop. Stiles printed out a few news reports from other articles and made some notations in the margins of the pages of other interesting things he'd found from the area.

He was scrolling through yet another article when he froze with his breath caught in his chest. A video taken on someone's camera in their backyard. In it a person stalked just out of range to be seen clearly, appearing more like a humanoid shadow lurking just out of sight. However, that wasn't what made him pause. When the figure angled themselves to face the camera, a bright flare appeared around their eyes. The same sort he'd seen in Scott's before his friend had learned to control it. He watched the video seven times, replaying the part where the person had looked toward the camera over and over.

After pausing it, he lurched from his chair to grab his phone, texting Derek: 'I might have something. Get over here asap!' Dropping his cell onto the desk he took a screenshot of the video and printed it, too. After bookmarking the page, he moved on to another article. Without knowing how long it would take Derek to see the message, he didn't want to waste any time that he could be using to search further into this.

Less than twenty minutes had passed when he heard a soft thump outside of his window and rolled his eyes. "I have a door, you know." He said as as window slid open.

"Is it locked?"

Stiles shrugged without looking back. "Probably."

"What did you find?" Derek stood impossibly close, enough that Stiles could feel the heat radiating off of him. Combined with that smell of leather-even in the absence of his signature jacket-and cinnamon it took Stiles brain a second to reboot. He really, really wished it would stop doing that.

Before he could allow himself to become distracted again he grabbed the papers sitting atop the printer and thrust them toward Derek's hands. "Ohio. Seems to be a lot of.. fairly wolfy things going on."

Derek's brows twitched upward, unimpressed, while gazing down at them. "Near the Appalachian trails? I'm shocked." Was that sarcasm?! That was Stiles signature move!

Wrinkling his nose up at the guy in disapproval, he navigated back to the video, then hit play. Derek leaned closer to the screen, and by extension over Stiles, to watch it. Stiles found himself admiring him again, tracing his gaze from the side of Derek's face, down his throat, to those broad shoulders. A strangled noise echoed in his throat when Derek looked at him suddenly, those expressive brows knitted together in a silent question. Stiles just cleared his throat and pointed toward the screen; knowing that if the scent around him and his own stupid heartbeat hadn't given him away, the flush that spread from his ears to his cheeks surely did. "Did you, uh, did you see it?"

Derek scrutinized him a few seconds longer before turning back without acknowledging the sudden tension. "Play it again."

This time Stiles kept his attention locked resolutely on the screen. When the being captured on video's eyes flared he pointed and paused it. "There, you see! Tell me that's not something."

The corner of Derek's mouth twitched. "Definitely something. I'll get all this to Peter. We can figure more out from there. Good job." He stood upright again, shifting away from Stiles. It was good to be able to properly breathe again. Not that he would ever admit that aloud!

Stiles grinned more broadly than he would later disclose from the praise. "I'll keep searching. See what else I come up with." He still kept his attention glued to the screen. Better to avoid further mishap. His fingers drummed beside his laptop. "Hey, did Peter find out anything more? About the mountain ash?" He asked, watching Derek's reflection in his screen rather than look at him fully.

"He's supposed to meet with Deaton today. He and Deaton have a long-standing love/hate history with one another and he was putting it off." There was a smirk detectable in the words.

Before he could stop himself, Stiles turned in his chair. Curiosity always got the better of him. "Why?"

Derek settled onto the window sill, chuckling to himself. "I don't remember it but I guess Deaton was my mothers emissary, as you heard. I guess he and Peter didn't much get along back then. Threatening one another to a point everyone really thought they hated each other. Turned out they'd actually had a secret relationship for years. I managed to get all of this out of Peter after Lydia was attacked. He and Deaton had been fooling around long before Peter met Corrine and Peter had fallen for her like all wolves do when they find their 'mate'. But he couldn't let go of what he had with Deaton either. Which I can imagine only made things worse between them. After Corrine died Peter did everything he could to steer clear of Deaton. Guilt, anger, even he doesn't really know why. He told me that even now he still cares for him but that he doubts anything would ever be the same between them."

"Huh!" That.. wasn't at all what Stiles had been expecting to hear. He'd been figuring one or the other was some secret asshole-his money was on Deaton-but given the guy was the packs emissary he was relied on and therefore needed. He guessed he was partly right.

"So, he was trying to not have the need to speak with Deaton if he could avoid it."

"That makes sense. I mean, I can always go talk to him.. save Peter the trouble. It is about me and all."

Derek offered a little smile and shrugged one shoulder. "You could. But Peter has the bestiary that would help. And to be completely honest, I'd rather they just have the opportunity to talk and make up. I'm tired of seeing Peter miserable."

Both of them knew that would be helped by finding his daughter and niece. By fixing what they could of their broken family. Everyone just had to hope that when they found Cora and Malia, the two weren't even more broken from their time in captivity. That might be too much to hope for, really. It was the best they could all do, though, wasn't it?

"We're all meeting tonight around seven." Derek was saying when Stiles brought himself back out of his thoughts, wondering what either girl looked like or would act like. If they were both Hale's, he was betting on both of them having dark hair and mildly broody attitudes.

"I'll be there." He promised, nodding.

Derek tipped his head once then ducked out of the window. He didn't close it behind him and a warm breeze fluttered in. Complaining about wasted energy, considering the air condition was blowing full blast, Stiles pushed himself up to close it. After the window was slid into place he lingered there long enough to watch Derek saunter across his yard before reaching the Camaro parked at the curb. Derek pulled open his door and paused in the act of dropping into the car. His gaze danced up toward the window, staring back at Stiles for a full minute.

Stiles' heart beat an erratic rhythm when the guy flashed a smile at him, then disappeared from view. Good. Freaking. God. That really, really needed to stop happening. Derek Hale was going to give him a heart attack. He was sure of it. Werewolf or not. He had to wonder if Derek knew what he was doing to him.. and was now doing in on purpose. If so, rude! Complete asshole move.

Either way, it just reminded Stiles that he needed to be careful. Crushing on his Alpha was probably frowned upon. Wait. Was he crushing on Derek? All signs pointed to yes. With a roll of his eyes and a defeated sigh, he flopped face first onto his bed, dragging the pillow back under his face.

Seriously, how was this his life?!