It was a slow, gradual change. Nearly imperceptible at first. He had spent the first two years of being a werewolf trying to block everything out. Now he was an alpha. Maybe it wasn't something you could feel as a beta, these intense instincts.

But no. He could tell Liam felt it. It was in the way their eyes seemed to seek each other out on the lacrosse field. Just a reassuring glance that each other was there. That slight lifting of his head to scent the air to better check on his moods.

He thought at first that maybe it was because he had turned Liam. That they had a deeper, werewolfy bond. Then he caught Malia doing the same thing, and him reciprocating more and more. He had become aware of them in a way that was more supernatural than human, always needing to know where they were.

That was right before the nogitsune had slashed a jagged rift through his pack. This new awareness helped him to keep an eye on his friends. For a while there life was purely about survival. After they'd gotten rid of the threat everything had gone semi back to normal. But they'd grown closer, bringing more instinctual changes with it.

The first sign something was different with the not-so-hairy members of his pack was when Stiles had climbed through his window at two am. He'd been fidgety as he'd collapsed into the worn desk chair. But he was always fidgety, even more so after what they'd just been through. Nightmares of a sadistic demon possessing you tended to leave their mark.

Scott had tossed his comforter at him, along with the spare pillow, without a word. Nodding his thanks, Stiles had bedded down on the floor, stretched along the side of the bed. Both had fallen back to sleep easily, a miraculous feet for anyone in his pack.

After that his hyper vigilance began to expand. Stiles was on his radar now the same way Liam and Malia were. As was Lydia. His best friends were becoming an extension of himself.

Then they'd had to survive the dread doctors. That peril had found him willingly opening himself up more and more to who he was as an alpha werewolf. Having a beta he had turned, and a misfit pack who he'd been through unbelievable supernatural trauma with, it had become obvious he couldn't pretend there was anything human left about him.

His window squeaked as it slowly opened. Scott's sensitive ears twitched and he sniffed the air, not bothering to open his eyes.

"Stiles, you okay man?"

The lanky boy cursed under his breath as he bent over the window ledge.

"All good. Sorry to wake you, man."

Scott peeked an eye open and stared at his best friend. With only the light of the street lamps and waxing moon, he could perfectly make out Stiles.

"Comforter's in the closet," Scott said, shutting his eyes and yawning.

Groping around his bed he found his spare pillow and tossed it on the floor.

Stiles plopped down in the same spot he had months before, tucking the fluffy bed spread around himself. Laying back he felt the tension leave his worn body.

Both boys lay there in silence, the calming sounds of crickets filtering through the still cracked window. The dissonant noise was loud to Scott's sensitive hearing, but as always he tuned it out. Instead of focusing on his own heart beat, he listened to Stiles as his breathing evened. It didn't take long for the rhythms of their breathing to sync as Scott fell back asleep.

Malia's low grumble of a growl woke Scott for the second time that night. Stiles, with his blessed human hearing, stayed sprawled out and snoring on the floor.

Blinking, Scott propped himself up on his elbows and stared back at Malia, still perched in the wide open window. She smelt of pine trees and underlying anxiety. And a little perturbed.

"Something bothering you?" Scott asked as he rubbed one eye. It was still dark out so it mustn't have been that long since he'd fallen back asleep.

"I'm not, " Malia denied.

Unable to stop it, Scott gave a low growl from his chest, a warning that the Alpha wasn't going to be deceived. Usually he had more restraint, but he was too tired to play human.

Malia's eyes flashed blue, then dimmed as she looked down at Stiles and then away. "I wasn't invited."

Scott sighed and sat up. "He sleeps better when someone else is around."

Malia huffed then climbed the rest of the way inside, not bothering to close the window.

"I know," she said, "but just because we broke up doesn't mean he can't call me."

Scooting over, Scott made room for Malia on the bed as she sat down cross-legged next to him. Their thighs touched but neither bothered to move.

Looking over, Scott watched his best friend sleep, subconsciously taking in the chemo signals his sweat gave off. There was the ever present anxiety, but a softer, reassured feeling now overlaid the negative emotions. It was the same scent Malia was now giving off.

Pressing closer to her, Scott appreciated how that scent grew, filling the room with calming safeness. He also knew she was no longer upset, only smelling of belonging. Malia rested her head on his shoulder, sighing. It wasn't until very recently they'd been able to have moments like this. No fight in sight. No planning how to survive. Just existing. Summer was just getting started and life was finally back to an okay rhythm Scott had experienced since he'd been turned. Even with Kira gone away to New York, he felt peaceful. Happy.

The sudden urge to call Liam and Lydia struck him and he chuckled.

"What's so funny?" Malia asked, her eyes closed as she relaxed against him.

"Just these instincts of mine. With the two of you here, I have the sudden urge to want the rest of the pack here."

"So?" Malia nudged him. "Call them."

"This early?" Or was it still considered late?

Rolling her eyes, Malia grabbed his phone off the nightstand and handed it to him. "You're our alpha, dummy. And we need this kind of pack time after everything we've been through."

Scott watched as she scooched off the bed and curled herself up on the floor against Stiles. The lanky teen smiled and snuggled closer but didn't wake.

True, he was the Alpha. He was becoming more and more okay with what he was, but he didn't know how comfortable he was opening himself up completely to all of these new, pressing instincts. Checking the time he was surprised to see it was barely past four. Risking Lydia yelling at him, he decided to give into the need to have his pack close.

He sent a text to Liam, who responded almost immediately. Turns out he was already awake and would be there soon. Next he texted Lydia who took a few extra minutes to respond. She said she'd be there as soon as she was decent.

Grateful he had a late shift that day, Scott laid back on the bed, feeling incredibly at ease.

Liam was already sprawled in the oversized chair in the corner when Lydia gracefully walked in through the bedroom door. Liam had jumped in through the window without a word and gone to catch up on more Zs. As he'd climbed into the house, Scott had to wonder if his neighbors ever noticed how many teenagers seemed to prefer entering the McCall residence through the window rather than the front door.

"It feels nice in here," Lydia said, closing her eyes, head tilting, and calming in a reassuring way only a banshee could.

Scott smiled from the floor. Malia had pulled him down next to her shortly after he'd tried to go back to sleep on his bed. Smirking at the trio, Lydia laid down on Scott's bed tucking herself into the welcoming smell of her pack. Even though most of her senses were human, her supernatural ties allowed her to sense her pack in a way that most banshees couldn't.

Soon she was also asleep, despite being wide awake when she had arrived. Gentle snores mixed in the room along with the increasing birdsong from outside the open window.

It took a few more days after that for Scott to realize something in him had changed again. That pack session had seemed to unite all of them in a way nothing had. Letting their scents linger in a calm way had centered his whole pack.

He could no longer think of Stiles, Liam, Lydia, or Malia as just friends. In his mind they were solidly 'pack.' His own pack unlike any out there. In fact, he had to watch how he referred to them when he was around others. It had become instinct to say packmate over friend when referring to any of them.

With the solidifying of his pack, other instincts took root. There was this new need to constantly reach out and touch. He'd brush up against Malia as she sat between him and Stiles to watch a movie. Or he'd lightly squeeze Lydia's wrist as she wrote down summer study notes for Malia. Even grasping Liam's shoulder as they snuck in night lacrosse practices at the school's field.

It was the worst with Stiles. The who had become even more inseparable. More often than not, Stiles slept over in Scott's room. So often now that there was a permanent mattress set up on the floor next to Scott's bed. Sheriff Stilinski had joked it was like they were twins with how often they were around each other. Scott had smirked, easily responding it was because Stiles was really his first beta. Even if he hadn't bitten him, he was the first one his alpha wolf had accepted as pack. Even before he'd turned Liam.

As weeks passed they got less touchy with each other, but only because the pack now had a distinct scent that blanketed them all. To Scott's alpha nose, it was a scent that empowered and pleased him. It meant his pack was united and healthy. A scent he would fight to defend to his last breath.

All pack members, even the human ones, craved the same closeness the other three naturally gravitated towards. It began to make sense why the Hale family had all lived under one roof. They needed that closeness. Pack was everything. It was family.

When school started again in a month, Scott hoped the pack bond wouldn't be as obvious to their human classmates. Part of him didn't really care - he was the alpha after all. It was his right to show he was in control. But going to school like normal was part of pretending to be human. Pretending that his pack was still just friends, nothing more.

Now as they gathered around him in the living room, snuggled together to watch a movie, he felt a steadfastness take root. This was his pack, his family. No matter what happened, they were going to be alright.