Stealing Him Away

by Takara Phoenix

After the Nogitsune killed Allison, Peter and Chris left Beacon Hills, so Peter could pick up the pieces, both of his mate and of the Hale Pack. After he regained his Alpha status and was assured that Chris was doing better, the mated pair returns to Beacon Hills. Peter had thought Stiles would be fine, with his own pack, would be healing. He's not. Chris/Peter/Stiles

Teen Wolf || Stetopher || Teen Wolf || Stealing Him Away || Teen Wolf || Stetopher || Teen Wolf

Title: Stealing Him Away – A Fresh Start in London

TW Disclaimer: All rights reserved to Jeff Davis and MTV. This fanfiction on the other hand is entirely mine. No money is made with this, though reviews are more than welcomed.

Tags: m/m/m, polyamory, Erica Lives, Boyd Lives, Spark Stiles, post-Nogitsune, PTSD, Pack Feels, Pack Alpha Peter, the Hale Pack Moves to London, Stiles Leaves Beacon Hills, fluff, hurt/comfort, m/f, f/f

Main Pairing: Chris/Peter/Stiles

Side Pairings: Boyd/Erica, Jackson/Lydia, Malia/Kira

Teen Wolf Characters: Mieczysław 'Stiles' Stilinski, Peter Hale, Chris Argent, Derek Hale, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd, Isaac Lahey, Jackson Whittemore, Lydia Martin, Cora Hale, Malia Tate, Kira Yukimura, Sheriff Stilinski

Summary: After the Nogitsune killed Allison, Peter and Chris left Beacon Hills, so Peter could pick up the pieces, both of his mate and of the Hale Pack. After he regained his Alpha status and was assured that Chris was doing better, the mated pair returns to Beacon Hills. Peter had thought Stiles would be fine, with his own pack, would be healing. He's appalled by the state Stiles is in.

Stealing Him Away

A Fresh Start in London

Allison was dead. The Nogitsune had killed her. Christopher had lost his last family member, after he'd already lost his sister, his wife, his father. All bad people, people Peter didn't mourn. He mourned Chris' loss, could acknowledge that all these murderous bigots had had some good side they had shared with Chris and that Chris was mourning that loss.

But Allison? Allison was different. Peter liked her, had grown fond of the girl ever since him and Christopher had gotten together. She wasn't a bad apple, wasn't like her mother or aunt or grandfather. She wanted change. She'd died doing what she had declared the new Argent code. Had died trying to save Stiles. And now Christopher had lost his daughter.

He needed to get out of Beacon Hills. In Peter's opinion, everyone needed to get out of that cursed town, but now? Now, there was no more delaying it. Chris had lost near everything in this town, including himself. Allison's death had dragged him into a deep depression.

This wasn't the time-table. The time-table had been to grab his pack and leave Beacon Hills once the pups graduated high school. Now Allison was dead and Chris was losing himself. So was Isaac. Peter and Chris had taken the boy in months ago, after all he had nobody and they couldn't let a werewolf pup go into the foster system like that. For the first time since his mother and brother had died did Isaac get a semblance of family, with Peter, Chris and Allison. Now Allison was dead.

"We're leaving," Peter spoke softly, eyes filled with sorrow.

Stiles didn't look at him. Just sat on his bed, legs drawn up against his chest. Staring at the wall. He did that a lot. The possession was broken… and so was Stiles. Peter's wolf growled at the thought of leaving Stiles behind, but right now, he had to prioritize. His mate had lost his daughter and needed help, their pup had lost the girl who'd become like a sister to him and he needed help. Both only had Peter left. Stiles? Stiles had the sheriff, had the McCall Pack. Peter needed to believe that Stiles would be fine, that unlike Chris and Isaac, Stiles had a support system here.

Sure, Isaac was part of the pack too. Was best friends with Scott. But Scott had just lost his mate, was battling his own grief. And Isaac had never developed the same kind of ties to the others the way Stiles had, Stiles and Lydia had been close for a long time, he had a strong bond with Malia and him and Kira had become friends over long research binges together. To Isaac though, the pack were Scott and Stiles. Isaac needed to get out of this town.

Stiles? Stiles had a support system in this pack. Stiles would get the support he needed here, while Peter needed to provide that support to his mate and pup. It hurt him, because he loved that boy, had chosen Stiles as his mate even before he had gotten together with Chris. In the back of his mind, there had been this simple plan, patience until the boy would turn eighteen and after the teens graduated, Peter and Chris would have started courting Stiles and whisked him away, together with Isaac, Allison, Cora and Derek, leave this damn town in their dust and rebuild the Hale Pack elsewhere, far away from the haunting memories of loss and grief and pain.

"Okay," Stiles whispered, still not looking at him.

Sighing, Peter approached Stiles, crouched down in front of him and tilted Stiles' head so the boy would look at him. Those honey-whiskey eyes that always sparkled with mischief and mayhem were dull and filled with pain and all Peter and his wolf wanted to do was grab the boy and take him with them. But Stiles' father was here, his pack was here. Stiles wouldn't go with them.

"You will be fine," Peter said it less as encouragement and more like an order. "You are… so strong, darling, I know you'll overcome this too. I'll come back, when Christopher is feeling better."

Stiles just blinked at him. Taking a shaky breath, Peter got up. Stiles would be fine. Peter had to believe that, because he couldn't leave otherwise and he knew he had to leave.

/break\

Derek was shouldering his bag, shifting its weight a little uncomfortably. There'd only been one person in Beacon Hills from whom the goodbye had hurt and that person was still so out of it, Derek wasn't entirely sure he'd registered what had happened. It didn't sit right with Derek to leave Stiles behind like this, but Peter was right. They needed to get out of this town. It was long overdue.

The only reasons they'd stayed had been that this was Hale territory first, and that the pups they had ties to – Cora, Isaac, Allison, Stiles – were still in high school. Now, things were irreversibly changed and Peter was right. It was time to abandon the territory.

"We'll get him," Peter muttered, clasping a hand on Derek's shoulder. "We'll find a territory of our own, establish it. Build a home, a pack. Heal. And then we'll get him."

"How do you plan on building a pack?" Isaac asked warily.

A wicked smile spread over Peter's lips as he wiggled his claws. "It may take me some time, but I'll find something. And then we'll start new. As a new Hale Pack."

The implication was loud and clear. And Derek couldn't argue with it. He'd not been happy as an Alpha himself, it hadn't been the responsibility he wanted, he wasn't cut out to teach and mentor. He'd been a born beta and always been meant to be a beta, but fate kept screwing it up. When he'd given up the Alpha spark to save Cora's life, maybe a tiny part of him had been relieved. The part from whom Boyd and Erica had run away, who'd been betrayed by Scott and lost Isaac's trust to the point that the pup had rather turned to Scott too. He wasn't meant to be an Alpha.

Maybe Peter was. Maybe this version of Peter, this more clearer and more stable version of Peter, could be a good Alpha. He'd been watching out for them all for months now. Even as they all stuck to the fringes of the McCall Pack. But that hadn't been right either, had it?

With all their loaded history – Scott's betrayal concerning Gerard still stung, even months later, it was something that had broken what little trust there had been between Derek and Scott – Derek hadn't been happy to call himself Scott's beta. No more than Scott had been back in the day calling himself Derek's beta. But Beacon Hills was his home, the last bits of family he had were here, so Derek had stayed. Now, it was time to leave. Time for the Hale Pack to leave.

"I'm trusting you with them," Peter looked Derek dead in the eyes. "I'm trusting you with Christopher. The next part, I'll have to do alone. I can't watch over him while I do this. So I'll trust you to keep my mate and the pups safe, until I come to you."

Derek tensed at that, wanting to argue. His eyes found the former hunter, hunched over, eyes empty. He looked a lot like Stiles. Broken. Derek didn't know what to do with a broken man.

"You don't have to do it alone," Peter added after a moment. "I booked you a flight, a pack is waiting for you. You'll stay with them, they will help, until I get there. Okay?"

Relief flooded Derek and he gave a jerky nod. "Where… Where are we going?"

"You'll go where another wayward member of the Hale Pack is," Peter grinned wryly.

He handed over the flight tickets to Derek and Derek's eyes widened. London. Peter had pulled some strings back when the Whittemores had left Beacon Hills, reached out to Alpha Hayes in London, an old contact from back in the day. Back when the old Hale Pack had still been alive. Jackson had been staying with the Hayes Pack for the past year now, was doing good, according to Lydia who stayed in contact with him. Technically as much a part of the Hale Pack as them all. The first beta Derek had turned. Another piece chipped away from the Hale Pack.

"Robert is a good man, he promised to take care of you. Not take you on as permanent betas, he knows what I'm planning, but pack enough to keep you safe and sane until I come, however long it may take me," Peter continued. "Get settled in, get… help. Professional help."

His eyes wandered to Chris, filled with pain for his mate. Derek nodded again, wordlessly.

"Be careful," Derek frowned at his uncle. "We've lost enough pack."

A smile twisted Peter's lips. "I'm not that easy to kill, nephew. You should know that."

/break\

Arriving in London felt like Cora could breath again for the first time since she'd left her old pack in Mexico. The imprisonment at the hands of the Alpha Pack, the way Boyd and Erica had run away together as soon as they'd gotten out of the vault, losing that sense of pack that she had built with them in the four months of their captivity, nearly dying at the hands of the darach, Derek losing the Hale Alpha spark, which signaled the end of the Hale Pack. Being a beta in a pack of strangers, following the lead of a boy who was her own age. And then the possession. One of their own, taken over by a demon, attacking them, killing people without wanting to.

"Robert said he cleared with Peter that you guys can stay here," Jackson announced.

He was posh. A pretty boy, but in the obnoxious way that made Cora want to punch him in the face for it. He'd picked them up from the airport and driven them to a mansion. Not within Hayes territory but at the fringe of it, close enough. Uncle Peter's idea.

"Thank you," Derek grunted, carrying in most of the luggage.

Isaac was helping Chris over toward a couch. The man wasn't really present. His eyes looked into the distance like he was seeing something that wasn't there. Cora remembered that look from her own mirror, after the fire. Distant from the world. Lost.

"How…" Jackson trailed off for a moment, his cocky attitude making way for something akin to concern. "How's Stilinski holding up with everything?"

Derek shook his head with a heavy sigh. "He's still in shock, I think. It'll take a while until he's ready to really work through things. For now, he needs… time."

There was some context that Cora was missing, she was sure of it. Stiles usually called this guy 'jackass' and complained about what a major douche he'd always been. Why would Jackson worry about Stiles now then? And why did the look on his face seem so much like understanding?

"If there's anything you need – tour of the city, or the territory, advise on where they have the best food – give me a call," Jackson shrugged on his way out, just to pause in front of Chris. "I… I'm sorry about Allison. She was a great a friend, Mister Argent."

Chris looked up at him with wet eyes and swallowed hard. "She… was."

And it felt like that 'was' really broke something inside Chris. They had a long road ahead of them.

/break\

Peter found part of what he was looking for in a small town in Ohio. It had been a couple weeks – four weeks and three days, to be very precise. It had been more of a coincident, he'd been following a lead about a feral Alpha, when he came across a faintly familiar scent.

"Welcome to Gabby's. Can I get you anything to drink already or do you need a moment?"

Peter's lips pulled into an involuntary smile as he looked at the girl. "I don't think you have any of my favorites, they're quite outside this place's price-range. A coffee will do, Erica."

She nodded, a friendly customer-service smile on her own red-painted lips. Her hair was shorter than on the pictures Isaac had of the three first Hale betas. Personally, Peter hadn't really met the girl. Her and Boyd had run off just as Peter had gotten resurrected and then had run off for good after the three teens had been freed from the Alpha Pack. An understandable reaction, really. They'd wanted to get away before they got caught and held captive for four months and it, sadly, hadn't reflected well on Derek's abilities as an Alpha that he hadn't found them in four months.

"There you go, sir," Erica put the coffee in front of him. "Picked anything yet?"

"I'll take a burger and curly fries," Peter couldn't help but smile. "Awfully unhealthy, but it's a bad habit I picked up from someone I care about dearly. He loves these greasy atrocities."

Erica scribbled the order down on her notepad with a nod. "Anything else?"

"When are you getting off work?" Peter looked at her, still smiling.

She paused, blinking. "Listen, you're really hot in that sophisticated DILF kinda way, but I got a boyfriend and am very, very happy in that relationshi-"

He cut her off by flashing his eyes blue. She froze, staring at him like a deer in the headlines, but his eyes flashed back golden in return. Her pencil clattered to the floor, her heartbeat picked up.

"Hello, Erica. My name is Peter Hale and I am here with a proposal to you and your mate," Peter clarified, grin mischievous. "So, why don't you give Vernon a call and tell him to meet us here after your shift, dear? Isaac and Cora send their best."

Her brows furrowed when she bent down to pick up her pencil before going back to the kitchen. He was confident she would be meeting him after. If nothing else, the mention of Cora and Isaac should do the trick. Now, he could only hope that his pitch was solid.

"Who are you and why are you here."

Peter grinned, all teeth, as the tall, broad-shouldered beta slipped into the seat opposite him. A handsome young man, with a strong jawline and dark skin, a dusting of a beard framing his face. His clothes indicated that he was working as a mechanic, the oil-stains on the overall.

"As I told your lovely mate, my name is Peter Hale. And I have a proposal."

"Hale. Like Derek. And Cora," Boyd narrowed his eyes.

"Their uncle," Peter nodded. "I was temporarily dead while you joined the Hale Pack. We seem to have barely missed each other there. I'd like to rectify that."

Peter was aware that Erica across the diner was listening in on their conversation. Her eyes kept finding them. Boyd reached over the table and stole one of Peter's curly fries, unbothered.

"What do you want," Boyd repeated. "We left Beacon Hills. We're not coming back."

"Neither are we," Peter leaned back in his seat, but pushed his plate forward some, offering. "Me, my mate, Derek, Cora and Isaac have left Beacon Hills too, for good."

Boyd paused, holding a fry close to his mouth. "Really? Why?"

Sighing, Peter took a drink from his coffee. "You two were the first members of the new Hale Pack to leave. Not long after you two left, Derek lost his status as an alpha. What was left of the Hale Pack was folded into the… McCall Pack…"

"The what," Erica pushed herself onto the seat next to her mate.

"Yes," Peter smiled bemused. "For reasons beyond my comprehension, Scott McCall is now the Alpha of his own pack. We stayed on, for a while, but… the time has come to leave."

"Why," Erica narrowed her eyes at him. "Why leave now, then."

The playfulness and teasing left Peter and he heaved a sigh. "Stiles was possessed by a powerful, dark demon. He… has suffered greatly. He's fine – physically speaking – but he has gone through a large, traumatic event. He's been used to kill people. To kill… Allison. His friend."

Emotions played on both betas' faces but neither spoke. Peter finished his burger patiently.

"You didn't list him," Erica argued. "Among the people who left. So what, he did something bad, you guys now turned their back on him and abandon him?"

Peter snarled, flashing his eyes. "Do not ever accuse me of abandoning Stiles."

They both looked startled by his reaction. Clearing his throat, he used his napkin to clean his mouth, then folding it neatly and putting it next to his plate. He took a slow, deep breath.

"We left to get a new start. My mate is Christopher, Allison's father," Peter replied softly. "He needed to get away from that place. I intend to rebuild the Hale Pack, in a new, safe place. And once we are a stable pack, with a stable home, I intend to get Stiles. Right now, things are too unstable. Both him and Chris need help. I'll do my best to help my mate and then I can help Stiles too."

"What do you want with us?" Boyd asked lowly.

"I intend to rebuild the Hale Pack," Peter repeated, raising his eyebrows. "You were both as much a part of the… second attempt at a Hale Pack as any of us, so I want to extend an invitation to you too. To join our pack. I will be the Alpha. Derek, Cora, Isaac, Jackson and Stiles will be a part of this pack. I know you have complicated feelings for the Argents, rightfully so-"

"We don't have an issue with Chris," Erica interrupted with a shrug. "He stopped his psycho daughter from killing us in the woods. And he was the one who got us out of the basement. I'm sorry he lost his daughter, but I could not care less for Allison after what she'd done to us."

Peter nodded, mildly pleased that Chris wasn't going to be an issue. "I know Cora formed a bond with you two in the vault, during your captivity. Isaac still misses you. He…"

"We miss him too," Erica whispered softly, looking at the table. "We were pack. That was… pack. Derek was a fucking mess of an Alpha, but Isaac and Stiles were ours. We were pack."

A small smile twisted Peter's lips at that, making him nod. "Isaac has been living with me and Chris for the past months. To him, Allison had… become family. He lost her and he's grieving, he's suffering. He needs pack. As I mentioned before, I plan on bringing Stiles into this pack too. So I need you two to consider if you want to join this pack too."

Boyd frowned, looking at Erica for a long moment, before returning his attention to Peter. "How long do we have time to think this through?"

"I'll be staying in town for a week, I'm following a different type of lead too here," Peter smirked. "Take your time, think it through. Consider if you could imagine moving to London. Find me when you come to a decision either way."

When he got up, he left a generous tip and walked out to a yelped "London?!" from Erica.

/break\

Boyd and Erica were laying awake in the bed of their tiny apartment. They'd only been living here for a month. Would probably only be staying for another month, or so. They never stayed long any place. Packs were nice, were tolerating them, allowing them enough protection from the local Alpha to prevent them from turning omega. But when things grew too comfortable, when they felt like they could be on the verge of actually becoming pack, they'd pack up and leave.

It wasn't even always because they disliked the packs. Well, sometimes that was the case, those were also the times they stayed the shortest somewhere. But mostly, it was because it felt… wrong. When they thought of pack, they thought of each other and Isaac and Stiles and Cora and, sometimes, even Derek. He may have sucked as an Alpha, but when he wasn't trying to teach them, Boyd had liked him, had admired him. Permanently joining a pack felt like betraying them.

"Can we?" Erica asked softly, her fingers tracing hearts onto Boyd's chest.

He had one arm folded beneath his head, the other wrapped around her waist. His thumb was drawing little circles on her bare hipbone. A sigh escaped him and he drew her a little closer.

"I miss them too," Boyd muttered. "But can we trust this… stranger? Who isn't an Alpha yet."

"I don't know," Erica shrugged and looked at him with the broadest grin. "But I'd like to see where this goes. Let's go with him and see. If he doesn't succeed, we can just continue as we have, move on to the next town. Well. Maybe… Maybe stop by Beacon Hills, check on Stiles…?"

Boyd swallowed at that and nodded. The hardest thing to digest about their conversation with Peter Hale had been the news that Stiles had been possessed, forced to kill against his will. Traumatized, again. It'd taken Boyd and Erica months to get over what had happened with Gerard and with the Alpha Pack. But getting out of Beacon Hills had helped. No longer were they hunted by murderers. They just got to… live. False identities, sure, new names in every town. Living in cheap motels for the first couple months, working every job they could get to get some money. Things were more stable now, they had a routine in their lives, knew what they were doing.

"Let's go and find Peter Hale," Boyd sighed and sat up. "But let's get dressed first."

"You spoil all my fun, babe," Erica cackled and threw him his shirt.

/break\

Much to his own surprise did Isaac actually get, more or less, along with Jackson. He hung out with the soon to be Hale Pack a lot and after about three weeks, it stopped feeling weird. Isaac and Cora started willingly spending time with him. Going out, letting him show them the city, what was fun, introducing them to the people their age from the Hayes Pack and some other neighboring London Packs. It was nice, they were nice, but more often than not, it was just Isaac, Cora and Jackson.

In his time living with Peter and Chris, Cora had become a kind of sister-figure. Her and Allison. Not exactly sisters, it wasn't the same bond he'd shared with his blood brother. They were all teens, thrown together, but there was still a bond that was different from a regular pack bond, that felt like family and he had no other name for it than sibling, even if it didn't fully fit.

While Allison and Cora had never hit it off too strongly, Cora was still someone Isaac could share this grief with. It was different with Chris. Chris was mourning something else. He was mourning a child and Isaac had no idea about that. He could only think of his own father and the twisted way in which he'd dealt with Camden's death. Maybe that was why he pulled a little away from Chris. Not just that he felt helpless, but also that there was a fear based on experience.

"Do you blame him?" Jackson asked softly one night.

Isaac looked at him confused for a moment. They were out in the Highgate Wood together, had just run wild under the moonlight. Cora was laying sprawled out with her head on Jackson's lap and her feet in Isaac's, eyes up on the stars. It was the look on Jackson's face that let Isaac know what exactly the other boy was talking about. There was a special kind of look that Jackson had when he was talking about Stiles. Isaac was fairly sure most of it was projection.

"No," Isaac spoke evenly holding Jackson's gaze. "He wasn't in control. He was being used by someone else. And so were you, you know."

Jackson's breath hitched, barely audible, and he averted his gaze. Tension seemed to melt away from him some though and Isaac wondered if he'd been carrying this the entire time. Worrying if they were still blaming him for what had happened with the kanima.

"I think coming here is going to be good for him," Jackson whispered. "It was good for me."

/break\

Erica liked Peter. The man was unhinged and vicious and sassy in a way that reminded her of Stiles. They found him in the woods, hunting a rogue Alpha wolf. Their entrance to the scene threw them off though, allowing the Alpha to get away and landing Peter on the ground in a ditch. When he climbed up, Peter was giving them both the most withering glare possible.

"If you only came here to tell me no, I will be so mad right now."

Peter picked leafs out of his hair and dusted off his suit as he got off the ground. Erica grinned. She was holding Boyd's hand, squeezing softly to convey her excitement. There was a weird feeling buzzing in her, like something life changing was going to happen. In that moment, she knew that her decision had been made. She was going to join whatever pack this man was going to build. A guy crazy enough to come all the way here, hunting a feral Alpha to kill just so he could create a pack for those he loved. A guy who had gone and tracked Boyd and Erica down, because they mattered to those he cared about. That was the kind of commitment she wanted from her Alpha.

"We're gonna help you catch that Alpha," Erica declared with a grin. "And then we're going to come to London with you. And steal ourselves a Stiles."

Peter looked at her with a matching grin. "Fantastic. Let's return to town and pack up, because he just bolted and I don't want to lose his scent."

And just like that, the next month of Boyd and Erica's life became a wild road trip with Peter Hale, all the way through Illinois, finally catching the Alpha in Missouri. Every night spent at a cheap motel together, sharing take out in their rooms, running through the woods and hunting together, it forged a bond between them. A bond in a way that Erica hadn't felt since her and Boyd had left Beacon Hills behind. Pack. When they got the Alpha, Boyd and Erica holding him down as best as they could while Peter took him out, the bond between them burned bright red. The first time Peter looked at them with red blazing eyes, Erica knew that was her Alpha.

/break\

Two months. It took Peter two months to finally follow them to London, with Vernon Boyd and Erica Reyes in tow. Chris stood with his arms crossed, leaning against the top of the stairs in their London town house, watching Isaac and Cora near sob as they hugged the two other betas.

"Honey, I'm home," Peter called out, a razor-sharp grin on his lips.

He stalked up the stairs like the predator he was, eyes bright red. Chris pushed off the wall and opened his eyes, welcoming his mate home. He knew that Peter needed to do this. For what they wanted, a fresh start, their family to stay together, to no longer have to answer someone else, Peter needed to become an Alpha. Still, Chris had hoped it wouldn't take that long.

"I was worried about you," Chris grunted, burying himself in his mate.

"I'm not that easy to kill, love," Peter chuckled, scent-marking Chris. "I was worried about you. How are you doing? You've been going to therapy, yes?"

He brought a little distance between them, looking at Chris with concern. Heaving a sigh, Chris nodded. He hadn't wanted to. For the first month, Derek had practically dragged him there. Chris was still not a fan of therapy, but he'd found a self-help group that actually helped him more. Parents who had lost a child. People who understood that loss, that hole in him.

"I'm… working on it," Chris muttered, pulling Peter back in to kiss him.

He was working on it. With therapy, with the group, with their family. Derek, Cora, Isaac. Not being alone. Being out of Beacon Hills. London itself helped. There were no memories here. Every corner in Beacon Hills had been filled with memories of the family he had lost. Here? He was making new memories, with the family he still had. There were only two parts missing and one was finally here.

"I love you," Peter whispered, pressing his face into Chris' neck.

"Mh," Chris looked over Peter's shoulder, watching the betas. "You found them."

For Cora. For Isaac. For Stiles. Because Chris knew that Peter himself had no ties to Boyd and Erica, had missed those two becoming wolves entirely. But he knew how important they were to those important to him. The thing Chris loved the most about Peter was that the wolf was willing to do anything for those he loved. He protected them fiercely, endured for them, fought for them. Went on a hunt through the states to kill an Alpha so he could be there for them and on the way, found two runaway friends they may not have seen in months.

"What's the timeline?" Chris asked gruffly against Peter's neck.

"I don't know," Peter admitted with a sigh. "I have to settle in, both into this pack as its Alpha and into this town. Establishing my own territory and making a name for myself with the other Alphas of London. Our betas need to bond. And it also heavily depends on your recovery, love."

"I'm eating regularly and even showering," Chris muttered with a deadpan. "That enough?"

Peter made a small noise and furrowed his brows. Oh, the wolf would not have liked the first month in London. Come to think of it, Chris found himself a little glad that Peter hadn't been here. Though he knew his lover meant well and did so out of concern, Chris hadn't been ready to heal for that first month. He needed to wallow. To sit with his grief and just… cease. Derek had helped a lot, made sure he ate anything at all and showered at least once a week. But that was it. Going through the motions, uncaring, heart and gaze empty. It would have upset and unsettled Peter so much.

After that first month, he started going to therapy, unwillingly so, and he forced himself to get his shit together, mostly for Isaac and Cora's sake. Most days, he still struggled getting out of bed. Only the thought that others depended on him, needed him, forced him out of it. If he didn't have their pack, he didn't know if he'd have found it in himself to keep going.

"We need more time," Chris admitted with a sigh.

He wanted Stiles here with them. Wanted to wrap the boy in his arms and hide away with him in their bed, far away from the rest of the world. But Stiles wasn't theirs to keep. There had been a plan. Peter and Chris had whispered it between their sheets in the late hours. A better version of life, where Allison, Isaac, Cora and Stiles were to graduate together and then, after, when their boy was off age, they'd court him, they'd steal him and their kids and Derek away, start somewhere else and form their own pack. The timeline got thrown off, the plan shattered into a million pieces when Allison died and now Chris was barely holding it together as was. He didn't have the space of mind to take care of Stiles, much less to court the boy or deal with a new relationship. He was too focused on barely somehow surviving and getting through the day. Peter was right. They needed more time.

/break\

Jackson hadn't meant to join the Hale Pack when they moved to London. He was more or less comfortable with the Hayes Pack. It wasn't the same as it had been in Beacon Hills, with Lydia, Scott, Stiles and Allison, and then when he actually turned into a wolf and had been part of the Hale Pack, even if just for the few short summer months before his parents had moved them to London. Having Derek and Isaac in London reignited something. That short summer, Jackson had been part of the Hale Pack with Derek, Isaac and Peter. It was Peter's arrival in London that sealed the deal, because Derek and Isaac were also betas and the pack situation was unsure. Then Peter came, as an Alpha, accepting Derek, Isaac and Cora into his pack and forming proper, full bonds. It was like something slotted into place when he met the new Hale Pack.

Robert didn't hold it against him, just smiled at him bemused when Jackson explained things to him, patting Jackson on the back with a heavy hand and telling him that pack was about loyalty. At first, Jackson misunderstood, thought Robert was feeling betrayed by him, before the Hayes Alpha clarified that Jackson's loyalty still laid with his first pack. Something severe needed to happen to truly break pack bonds and it hadn't for Jackson; circumstances had forced him to move to London and then his former Alpha had lost his status as Alpha. It had been a messy situation. Now that the Hale Pack was back, the people he had pack-bonds with, things were different.

Peter had come back a week ago and two days later, Jackson had joined the Hale Pack. At first, he'd been a little wary about Boyd and Erica, he had never really gotten to know them back in Beacon Hills. The whole kanima thing hadn't exactly given him much space of mind to get to know new people and when he was finally a werewolf, they'd already been abducted (as he now learned). But much like with Cora, Jackson got along with them pretty well once he got to know them. Well, Erica more so than Boyd, who was the big silent type. But Erica? Oh, she was on his wave-length.

"Are you…" Jackson trailed off, frowning.

The pack was having dinner together. House rules, every Friday night, they all ate together. Even though they shared most meals with each other anyway, living in the same house. Between work, school, social obligations and date nights (though those only applied to Chris and Peter, as well as Boyd and Erica), it was rare for them all to sit together for dinner. Hence the 'pack nights'. Jackson liked them, much to his own surprised. Felt a lot like family, in a good way.

"Out with it, pup," Peter urged impatiently, working on the pasta dough for dinner.

Their Alpha also usually cooked for these pack nights. Though Boyd helped, being the only one in the pack beside Peter who was a good cook. Derek, Isaac and Cora could… help, but weren't very successful if left to their own devices and both Erica and Jackson had been banned from using the stove after the disastrous Mac 'n Cheese incident from last Tuesday. Chris was not really in the shape to do much these days yet. He was getting better, Jackson had a front-row seat to the man's improvement, but he still seemed to mostly do things because he ought to, not because they brought him joy. Rediscovering Chris' joy was next up on Peter's agenda, the pack knew that. And Chris' recovery was vital to when they'd return to Beacon Hills to get Stiles. Which brought him back to the thought that had made him speak up in the first place. Stiles.

"I know you're set on getting Stilinski to London to join the pack, but are you like… in contact with him?" Jackson frowned, looking from Peter to Chris, Derek and Isaac.

"Yes," Peter paused his dough-kneading. "Why do you ask?"

Erica, Cora and Isaac looked up where they were cleaning up the aftermath of the dough making. Even Chris, who'd just been sitting at the table watching Peter, turned toward him at that. The only ones not being obvious in their curiosity were Derek and Boyd, who were making the salad.

"It's just," Jackson shrugged. "Lydia's been complaining about how Stiles keeps shutting everyone out. It's been three months, and she wants to give him time and space, thinking that was what he needed. But it's been three months. So I was wondering if he's been opening up to you guys, so I could maybe reassure Lydia. It's been really getting to her."

Peter tensed, brows furrowed. "What do you mean shutting everyone out?"

Again, Jackson shrugged. "She says he's been skipping as many pack meetings as he can get away with before Malia physically drags him out of the house, he's being… quiet. Which is the bit that really worries Lydia. Flinches away from touch. She thought he just needed time and space, getting used to having his body back and struggling with control or something like that. But…"

"It's been three months," Chris grunted, eyebrows drawn down deep.

Chris' knuckles were white from how tight he balled his fists, tense lines in his body. Jackson wasn't fully sure what Chris and Peter wanted, exactly, from Stiles, but he was aware of their intense interest in him. Jackson leaned back in his chair, waiting.

"Okay," Peter breathed deeply. "Derek, what was the last you heard from him?"

"He said things were fine," Derek glared.

"Of course he does," Peter heaved a sigh and turned around, leaning against the counter. "It's too early. There is still so much I have to do before things here are stable enough for him. And he… I wanted him to finish high school in peace… that would be another year…"

"He can finish school here, with us," Cora pointed out.

"He also has his father and… his pack," Peter couldn't keep the sneer from his face.

"Maybe he just needs more time," Chris offered tired. "Check in with him again, prod some?"

Peter grunted his agreement and so did Derek. Jackson hated that he kind of worried, but between the pack that was so attached to Stiles, Lydia who cared deeply about him, and the way Stiles' situation reminded him of his own experience with the kanima, he was growing attached himself.

/break\

Stiles didn't understand why the Hales kept texting him. He understood why they left. Leaving was the only way someone could survive Beacon Hills, Stiles was convinced of that at this point. They'd said goodbye, packed up – took Chris and Isaac with them – and left. He thought that'd be it. Especially with Peter and Chris. The two were mates. Peter had been living with Chris, Isaac and Allison for months. Of course had they left. Stiles had killed Allison.

Which was why he didn't understand why Peter kept checking in with him. Was he trying to make sure that the demon hadn't come back? That Stiles didn't turn into a threat again? Was that it? It was the only thing that even vaguely made sense to Stiles.

Wincing, Stiles tilted his head back against the wall. His shoulder was pulsing with pain where Donovan had bitten him. With his hand. Stiles tried not to think about it, but it proved impossible. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see the sharp rows of teeth in his palm, experienced the chase all over again, saw Donovan fall, saw his twisted, impaled, dead body.

Stiles was tired. He was so tired. Tired of everything. Why didn't he ever get a chance to catch his breath? He'd stumbled from Gerard's basement into the Alpha Pack, a crazed darach sacrificing people – trying to sacrifice his dad – and then he got possessed. Now? Now, he got to play twisted mind-games with Theo, who played Scott like a fiddle, while nearly dying.

His phone buzzed and he squeezed his eyes shut. Why couldn't people leave him alone? Why didn't they leave him alone? The Hales had left to get a new start, why would they not leave Beacon Hills behind? He wasn't part of their pack. There was a painful pang in his chest at that thought. Even if the Nogitsune returned, it wouldn't affect them. They were safe in London, far away from this. From him. A small solace. He couldn't harm them, at least, if it came back.

When his phone buzzed again, he reached for it. He wanted to turn it off, but before he had a chance to, he saw the preview of the message. His heart stumbled a little. Despite himself, he unlocked his phone and opened the chat he had with Peter.

Zombiewolf: Attempted to make pierogi. Judgment?

It didn't look much like pierogi. But Peter looked cute, with a little flour on his cheek, grinning into the camera as he held up a bowl of food. God, he was pathetic. Falling in love with Peter Hale, after everything they'd been through, and now that Peter was in a happy, stable relationship with the man whose daughter Stiles had killed. He squeezed his eyes shut, taking a shaky breath.

He was so fucked up. He knew he was fucked up. He couldn't even let his dad hug him. He kept avoiding Lydia and Malia and anyone else who tried to talk to him. Telling them he was fine, because he knew he was. He was as fine as he ever would be again. There was no fine anymore. His world was forever shattered, just like his mind had been. Broken, for good this time.

A sob wrecked him and he hid his head against the wall behind him a little. The pain distracted from the pain in his shoulder. If he could, he would go to a doctor. But how would he explain this? He couldn't tell anyone either. The body had just been gone. Nobody would believe him, they'd just think he was losing his mind again, or worse yet, think he was killing people again. Maybe both.

Scott didn't believe him. No murderers in his pack, this wasn't how they did things in his pack. Had he even still been pack? He'd barely seen Scott since Allison's death, even less so since Theo had rolled into town and become Scott's new best friend. Maybe he had still been pack after all, because when he had walked away in the rain, he could feel the bond snap, as fragile as it had been.

He could feel the ache in his chest, like something had been carved out of his soul. He was alone now, and it was all his own fault. He'd pushed them away to keep them save, or they'd left to keep themselves safe, and now he didn't even have a pack anymore. Even when pushing them away, he couldn't help but linger on the fringe, desperate to be a part of them even as he felt them drift away from him, further and further, moving on with their lives, growing, while he was stuck.

He clutched his phone, staring at the picture of Peter, looking happy. Stiles wanted to scream, to cry, to beg, wanted help so desperately, but how could he ask for it when he had the evidence that moving away and leaving all of this – leaving him – behind had helped Peter? Turning his phone off, he threw it across the room, not caring where it landed. He was alone and that was good, it was good for the others, who didn't have to worry about him, didn't get dragged into this mess.

/break\

Lydia didn't know what else to do anymore. Every time she reached out to Stiles, he flinched away with a look of horror and guilt on his face. She'd tried giving him space, tried giving him time, tried relying on the sheriff and Scott, hoping the longer bond they shared would be enough.

"Hey, babe," Jackson sounded like he was grinning when he picked up.

Despite the situation, Lydia had to smile a bit herself. She missed him fiercely. It had been a rough year, but they had made it work so far. Taking a deep breath, she braced herself for what came next.

"Hello, Jacks. Can you give me Peter?"

Silence, then a grunt. "Are you… sure? I thought-"

"Yes, I'm sure," Lydia pressed her lips together to a tight line. "I need to talk to Peter."

Their history was tricky at best. What he had done to her was something she would never forgive. She always felt tense around the man, nervous. Used to stick close to Allison whenever the whole pack was in a room, feeling safer with her. Part of her was incredibly displeased that Jackson had joined the man's pack. Another part of her understood that though. Pack was a tricky thing, the bonds they forged… And Jackson still had these bonds to the old Hale Pack.

"Lydia," Peter's voice was still as infuriating as she remembered. "What do I owe the pleasure?"

She instantly wanted to punch him in his smug face, glowering at the fact that she couldn't. "I know you want to take Stiles away from Beacon Hills. I need you to do it now."

"What?" Peter sounded genuinely surprised.

"Time and space are not working. He's getting worse. We're worried and we don't know what to do," Lydia sighed at the admission. "We're at our wit's end. Take him away. Before it's too late."

She could hear the way Peter sucked in a breath. If she was being honest, she didn't even know what she meant with that. But at this point, she was so disconnected from Stiles, she didn't know what he would do. If he would hurt himself, or if he'd simply… wither away.

"What happened, Lydia?" Peter spoke in a soft and patient voice.

That somehow annoyed her even more than the smugness. "He left the pack. We lost our pack bonds with him and we don't know what's going on anymore. He needs… help. Change. Pack."

Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back, just for Kira to grip her hand and squeeze it in reassurance. The kitsune's face was twisted into a concerned frown. Malia behind Kira had her arms around her mate's shoulders, the most displeased frown on her own face. Malia was as much a fan of calling Peter as Lydia was, but they were desperate and for some reason, Peter cared deeply about Stiles. Maybe the now Alpha could get through to Stiles. If nothing else, he could give Stiles back the sense of pack. Stiles had already been doing badly before, when he'd at least had his pack-bonds. They stabilized, offered support, gave a sense of belonging. Lydia knew that. Without them? She feared he was drifting away from them for good. She feared losing him forever.

"He's been ditching non mandatory pack meetings for months, but this was the first mandatory pack meeting that he missed and when I told Scott we had to wait for Stiles, he said…" Lydia's breath stuttered. "He said that Stiles is no longer part of the pack. We don't know what happened. He won't talk. He doesn't talk at all. He just stares blankly ahead and it's… it's scary."

"We're on our way," Peter's voice was firm. "Try to prepare the sheriff. Please."

Lydia took a small breath, nodding to herself. She hated that she had to rely on Peter Hale for help, but she knew that the one thing they had in common was that they cared about Stiles. That was the one thing Lydia may actually trust Peter with. She hoped it wasn't misplaced.

/break\

It had been a fight to keep the betas from coming too, but Peter didn't want to overwhelm Stiles. Him and Chris went alone, took the next flight. When Lydia was willing to talk to him, he knew something was seriously wrong. Stiles was supposed to be fine, he was supposed to rely on his father and his pack to help him through things, staying in his home was supposed to help him feel stable. This was Peter's fault, he should have insisted, he should have whisked their boy away from the beginning. Chris reached across the seat to take his hand, interlacing their fingers.

"Stop blaming yourself," Chris whispered. "For a self-proclaimed villain, you burden yourself too much with the task of saving everyone. You couldn't. Nobody can. You made sure me and Isaac got away and got the chance to heal, you took care of your own-"

"He's my own too," Peter growled displeased, grounding his teeth together.

"He is," Chris whispered, a small smile on his lips. "But unlike me and Isaac, he had others too. You trusted that others would have him. You couldn't have known this would happen."

Heaving a displeased sigh, Peter leaned his head against Chris' shoulder. He was so concerned for their boy, the way Lydia spoke made him fear the worst. And he hadn't even been there for the worst with Chris. Something he still felt guilty about, but he had so much to do before he could follow his pack to London. Too much. Four months. Four months and Stiles wasn't getting better.

"We'll help him get better," Chris murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of Peter's head.

Peter nodded, nuzzling into his husband's neck. A silver lining was that Christopher was doing good. He still had bad days, sometimes zoned out, but for the most part, he had started picking up life again. Not just going through the motions. He did things out of his own motivation, went to an action movie with Derek and Jackson the other day, he was reading books again, had taken up baking together with Boyd even. The other day, they'd been playing board games.

Chris was on the right way. So was Isaac, he relied on his pack bonds, the return of Boyd and Erica had helped him a lot too. Their pack was growing stronger, had reached a point of being a stable pack by now. The kind of pack he would be comfortable introducing Stiles to.

Peter had gained trust and respect from the other Alphas in London, had negotiated his own territory boarders with them. Everything was through. He was a full Alpha of a London Pack now. Things were officially at a place where Peter had a stable pack and home to offer to Stiles.

"He'll be fine, love," Chris nosed Peter's hair. "He is… incredibly strong, he kept going when his mom died, he walked out of being tortured by my father with his head held him, he will get through this too. We're going to help him. We'll help him be fine."

"I hope so," Peter sighed. "I really… hope so."

/break\

The sheriff looked worse for wear. Thinner than when they'd left London, bags beneath his eyes, disheveled, exhausted. Chris swallowed hard when he took his appearance in.

"The girls are in the living room," Noah sighed, running his fingers through his hair.

He stepped aside, letting Peter and Chris in. Well, they weren't here for the girls. What girls? Plural? Chris exchanged a look with Peter, but he got his answer when they stepped into the living room. Lydia looked composed as ever, her hair, clothes and make-up impeccable, worn like armor. Next to her… Peter's daughter. Malia. She looked angry, even as she buried her face in her mate's hair, Kira sitting half on her lap and clearly trying to calm Malia down.

"You took forever," Lydia glared at Peter with judgment.

"We had to fly in from London," Peter countered offended.

Still, the redhead continued glaring at him as though they should have been able to somehow defeat the laws of physics. The glare on Malia's face matched Lydia's. The only one who offered them a smile was Kira, bless her heart. The sheriff followed them and slumped down into an armchair.

"You want to take him away with you," Noah whispered. "Lydia told me about your plans."

Chris could see the way Peter braced himself for an argument, back straight and chest out. Before he could say a single word did the sheriff raise his hand and shake his head. A sad smile was on his lips, his eyes tired and defeated. Chris knew the answer before it left Noah's lips.

"Please," Noah's voice broke. "I don't know what to do anymore. I've tried everything. Being close, giving him space, trying to force him to do things, trying to let him do what he wanted, I tried to drag him to therapy but he just kept sitting there quietly, not speaking, I try to hug him and he flinches away, I avoid touching him and he looks at me with a heartbroken look. Everything is wrong and I don't know what to do anymore. I love him, I just… want him to get better. I want my son back and if I have to let him go for that, I will."

"Are you… sure?" Peter asked surprised.

Noah shook his head and rested it in his hands. "I don't know what to do, Hale. But everything I tried isn't helping, this place isn't helping. I'm wiling to give this a try. I already got the paperwork to pull him from school, not that… not that he'd really been participating. He hasn't been to school in two weeks, he hasn't left his bedroom in two weeks. Something happened and then Lydia said that Stiles isn't pack anymore and that's… I think that's what happened and it made everything worse. Please. Even if all you can give him is pack, I think it will help. I need it to help."

"I promise we'll do everything we can, sheriff," Chris rested a hand on the man's shoulder. "We'll protect him and do everything to help him get better."

"He's upstairs. In his room," Noah sighed. "Not that he's been anywhere else in weeks…"

Chris didn't like the sound of that. Yes, for most of the first month, he hadn't left his bed either, holed up in their new home in London. Took him three weeks to actually see their new kitchen in person. If Derek and Cora hadn't been there for him and Isaac… If he had actually been alone, if he hadn't found his new family with the Hales, he didn't know if he would have survived it.

Peter took a deep breath before he knocked on Stiles' bedroom door. When they didn't get a reply, he opened and entered. Even to Chris' human nose, the room was stuffy, so he went to open a window first, before turning around to face the bed. Stiles was curled together in the middle of it, looking smaller than a boy his height had any right to. His gaze was vacant.

"Darling," Peter spoke lightly as he put himself directly into Stiles' line of sight, crouching down in front of the bed. "Hello there, sweetheart. Your father says you're not leaving your room."

It took frighteningly look for Stiles to blink at Peter and even register him. He made a small noise, but didn't speak. But at least there was something now. A look of confusion and doubt. Chris leaned against the window sill and watched, for now. Peter had always had a bond with Stiles.

"You're worrying your…" Peter trailed off for a moment. "Your friends. So much so that Lydia willingly called me. Never thought that day would come, mh. You should have seen the look of bewilderment on Jackson's face when he handed me the phone, it was priceless."

Peter's lips quirked and he tilted his head. Stiles still just stared at him in confusion. With a sigh did Peter fold his arms on the mattress, resting his chin on them. There were mere inches between the two of them. Chris watched tensely, waiting for some kind of reaction from the boy. Anything.

"They said you're no longer part of the McCall Pack," Chris pointed out.

At that, Stiles flinched violently back, while Peter turned to glare at Chris. Chris opted to ignore his mate. He needed to see if there was still something Stiles cared about, if there was anything to salvage at all or if the boy had fully given up. Four months were just too long to still be holed up in his bed and disconnecting from everyone. Sighing, Chris pushed off the window and went to kneel down next to Peter. He reached out to cup the boy's face, not letting Stiles get away from it.

"What happened," Chris narrowed his eyes. "You have to talk to us so we can help you."

For a long moment, Stiles just stared at him. "Why… do you want to help? I killed your daughter."

His voice cracked, dry from not having been used in a while. Chris' face fell at his words.

"Stiles," Chris' voice was more urgent now and his grip on Stiles' face tightened a little. "You didn't kill Allison. The demon did. It used you, but that doesn't make it your fault."

Stiles looked so confused and… empty. "What's the difference. My hands killed her. I remember…"

Chris' breath hitched and a look of utter devastation overtook him. It was… so much worse than either of them thought. Chris had thought that Stiles was just working through his grief for his friend, he knew that Stiles and Allison had grown very close, while also overcoming the trauma of having been possessed. But they had assumed Stiles didn't remember the possession. When they'd all been trying to figure out who was possessed, the demon and the boy had been so separate, Stiles had no idea it was him. Swallowing hard, Chris pulled Stiles a little closer.

"It wasn't your fault," Chris repeated firmly. "What happened was not your fault, Stiles, and neither me nor any of our pack, blame you for Allison's death, or for anything else the demon did."

For the longest moment, minutes really, Stiles stared at him closely. Not vacantly so. He was looking for something, trying to figure out if Chris was being honest, was being serious. So Chris kept repeating himself, in variations, trying to reassure Stiles, until the boy cracked. He'd pulled Stiles so close at that point so when Stiles actually started crying, he was practically pressed against Chris' chest. The hunter wrapped his arms around their boy, fully pulling him off the bed and down onto Chris' lap while Stiles sobbing and cried loudly.

"It's okay, baby," Chris whispered softly, caressing Stiles' back with one hand, the other cupping the back of Stiles' head. "It wasn't your fault, you didn't mean for any of this to happen, you're not to be blamed for what happened, we don't blame you, sweetheart."

The door cracked open just a bit and from the corner of his eyes, Chris saw the sheriff watch them, tears running down his own face and Chris had the feeling this was the first time Stiles actually cried about this. It was the first time he'd spoken in two weeks too, after all.

"There," Chris smiled a little when Stiles in his arms had calmed down and was no longer crying. "There you go, baby. You feeling a little better now, mh?"

Stiles' fingers were clawed into Chris' shirt so hard his knuckles were white. He gave a small nod.

"Christopher and I want to take you to London with us," Peter said softly.

Stiles' head snapped over to stare at the wolf, who had sat down next to them, back leaning against the bed. One of his hands was gently running down Stiles' back too, tracing the boy's spine. Stiles frowned at Peter in confusion, then turned back to look at Chris the same way.

"We want to help you," Chris offered. "Your father… agrees that you aren't getting better here. We want to try and see if a change in scenery could help you. Come with us to London."

"The pack's really looking forward to seeing you again," Peter tagged on right away, hoping that could help motivate their boy. "Derek, of course, though he would rather die than admit that he has positive feelings, as you are well-aware. Isaac and Cora too. I think even Jackson. And Boyd and Erica? I had to near physically fight them to keep them home when we left, they wanted to tag along. But we thought it would be a little overwhelming if we brought the whole pack with us."

The mention of Erica and Boyd was the first time the look on Stiles' face cleared up just a little, with something else aside from despair and grief. He looked… hopeful, but still wary.

"Peter tracked them down," Chris explained, trying to reassure Stiles. "They moved to London with us, joined our pack. They're looking forward to seeing you again, baby."

One of his hands had settled down on Stiles' hip, his thumb running circles around Stiles' hip-bone which Chris noted was a little too prominent. He pulled the boy even closer, in a protective manner.

"Will you come with us, darling?" Peter asked, voice warm and hopeful. "If you hate it, if it doesn't help, you can always return to Beacon Hills. But we'd love to have you, give you a chance to get some distance from everything that happened. We want to help you. Please let us help you."

Stiles turned and stared at the door, making eye-contact with his dad. After a moment and taking a deep breath did the sheriff step into the room, rubbing his face.

"I love you, kiddo," Noah's voice was shaky. "I love you and I just want you to get better. But I don't know how. Chris just did what I haven't been able to do in four months. Make you show any emotion about what happened, anything that looks like you're processing and not just… stuck. I want you to go with them, if for nothing else then to get away for a while. Like Peter said, you can come home whenever you want. I… I got the paperwork to pull you from school. A medical leave, for the rest of the school year. Take the time, and summer, to think about what you want to do. If you want to return home for the next year, or start school in London."

Stiles looked at his dad so confused. "But…"

Noah joined them all on the ground so he could pull his son into a hug, which was only mildly awkward considering Stiles was still in Chris' lap. "I love you, Stiles. I lost your mom, I will not lose you. I'd do anything to help you, even if that means letting you go. You're not out of the world, we'll talk, on the phone, text, I'll come and visit somehow."

"Of course you will, sheriff," Peter assured. "I'll book you regular flights, just let me know."

Both Stilinskis looked at Peter in surprise. Peter and Chris had talked about this before. They knew the Stilinskis weren't poor, but flights between the US and Europe weren't exactly cheap and between the Hale fortune and the Argent fortune that Chris had inherited when his father had died, they had more than enough money to spare to fly Noah in as often as the Stilinskis needed.

"We're not taking no for an answer on that," Chris tagged on. "We chose to move to another continent and not stay in the states, we're not making you pay to see your son, Noah."

The sheriff nodded, stunned, and thankfully didn't argue. Stiles made a small noise. Chris noticed the way Lydia, Malia and Kira now lingered in the doorway. He wondered where that was going.

"Stiles?" Chris asked, cupping Stiles' face. "Will you come home with us? Let us help?"

Stiles bit his lip hard, eyebrows drawn together as he looked from Chris to Peter and back, before settling on his dad. He kept opening and closing his mouth, as though he wanted to say something but couldn't get the words. Which was not something Chris had ever expected to think of Stiles.

"I…" Stiles turned his head to instead look at his hands. "...Yes?"

It was spoken so softly and so unsure, but it filled everyone in the room with relief. Chris couldn't help himself, he smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of Stiles' head, pulling Stiles against his chest again. Peter heaved a relieved sigh and leaned more relaxed against the bed.

"Wonderful. Sheriff, would you mind helping me pack Stiles' things?"

Chris smiled amused by that, tilting Stiles' head. "You are in dire need of a shower before we go on a ten hour flight with you, doll. Up you go, to the bathroom, let Peter and your father do this."

With a small grumble did Stiles allow himself to be pulled up and toward the bathroom. He was very passive in it all, letting himself be pushed down the hall, past the girls, who immediately entered the bedroom to help the sheriff and Peter with packing. Once in the bathroom, Chris regarded Stiles for a long moment, now that the boy was standing. His dad had already looked bad, but Stiles? He was so thin, so pale and exhausted, the bags under his eyes near black.

"Can you do this alone, or do you need help, baby?" Chris asked softly, cupping Stiles' face.

Uncertainty flitted over Stiles face and he shrugged with a blush. "I… I'm fine."

Sighing, Chris stepped up to Stiles and grabbed the hem of his shirt. "You're not fine. And it's okay for you to not be fine. It's okay for you to need help, even with basic things."

He tugged the shirt up and Stiles lifted his arms, making Chris smile pleased. "There you go, good boy. Look, the first… the first weeks after Allison's death were… I was fully checked out. Derek gave me sponge baths. We don't talk about it. But it's… it's okay to accept help, you don't need to be embarrassed about that, okay, sweetheart?"

A short, reluctant nod and Stiles allowed Chris to strip him down and herd him into the shower.

/break\

The atmosphere in Stiles' bedroom was solemn while they all packed what they thought Stiles needed or wanted. Kira and Lydia were going through his closet together. Malia kept glaring at Peter, who was standing at the book-shelf to pick the ones he thought Stiles would want.

"I'm coming with you," Malia declared, glaring daggers at Peter.

"I'm glad to hear it," Peter smiled.

"Not," Malia growled. "For you. For Stiles. Stiles, Lydia and Kira are my pack. Where they go, I go. And if Stiles and Lydia go to London, I'll go to London."

At that, Peter did raise his eyebrows and turned toward the redhead in question, who simply flipped her hair back. "I will finish the school year here, but I have already discussed this with my parents. I am moving to London to finish my last year of high school there. With my boyfriend. And my pack, as Malia just pointed out."

Kira cleared her throat awkwardly. "I, uh, I am trying to convince my parents that I can finish my last school year in London too, but if not, I'll come after graduation, I guess."

That did make Peter tilt his head curiously. Though Kira was Malia's mate, so it figured that if Malia left, she wouldn't do so alone. Four new pack members, instead of just Stiles, then. He should text the pack later, make them prepare another room for Malia.

"You are more than welcome to come and join our pack," Peter offered, smiling at Kira.

The kitsune smiled brightly and relieved at that, subtly leaning into Malia, which did melt the glare off Malia's face some. That one was going to be tricky. So was Lydia. Both weren't exactly captains of the Peter Hale Fanclub (Erica was the captain of that, officially, much to Peter's amusement).

"Why don't you come downstairs with me for a moment, Hale."

Peter swallowed, seeing the look on the sheriff's face. He'd seen that plenty when the man looked at a suspect. With a short nod did Peter follow the man downstairs to the living room, where the sheriff started picking certain things to pack for Stiles too.

"You are more than twice my son's age," Noah said conversationally. "And you have a partner already, an age appropriate partner. I don't… think that you just want my boy for sex, because you are committing to something here and Stiles is in no way or shape up for such things. I do believe you have genuine feelings for him. But I need you to be aware that I can see the way you look at my son and if you push him or take advantage of him, I will put a wolfsbane bullet in your head."

"I wouldn't expect anything less, sheriff," Peter chuckled, before meeting Noah's eyes. "I love you son. Both, me and Christopher love your son. And we had planned this… differently. We wanted to take this slow, to start courting him after graduation and move to London then, when… when they all finished high school, to start a new life, start college and work, in London."

Allison didn't have to be said aloud to be implied here and he could see that on Noah's face too. The sheriff sighed deeply and rubbed his face at the reminder of what Chris had lost and what Peter, to a smaller extend, had lost. His stepdaughter with whom he had been warming up to lately. Had a closer relationship with than his own biological daughter. Maybe part of why Peter had left his pack to go and hunt a rogue Alpha was to work through his own grief. His method of working through loss had always been violence and inflicting pain, after all.

"Peter," Chris growled softly as he walked down the stairs.

His hair was damp and his facial expression was grim. It softened a little when he laid eyes on the sheriff, twisting into something like concern. After briefly kissing Peter, Chris walked over to the couch. The gravity on his face was enough to make the sheriff sit down too.

"I think part of what makes him this exhausted and weak right now is the fact that he's battling an infection," Chris spoke gravely. "He has a nasty bite wound on his shoulder that got infected. I cleaned it out and bandaged it. We're getting him antibiotics before we leave."

"Bite?" Noah tensed, and so did Peter for that matter. "What… What kind of bite?"

"Not a wolf bite," Chris shook his head. "I don't know exactly, it's… strange. I've never seen something like it. He refused to talk about it when I asked."

Peter heaved a sigh, rubbing his face. The sheriff looked simply devastated.

"Please help him," Noah sounded so desperate.

"We will," Peter promised, a serious look on his face. "We'll do everything we can."

/break\

Malia hated leaving Kira behind. Kira was her mate, her happiness. Kira's smiles made her feel warm and eased the frustration and anger Malia still often felt. But Stiles needed them and neither Kira nor Lydia could come yet. Malia could, she had nobody else. Her father rejected her and she'd been staying with the Stilinskis pretty much since Stiles had brought her back from being a coyote. They were her family. It just frustrated her that she would be so far away from her mate.

What frustrated her even more was that she had to go with her biological father. The man just rubbed her the wrong way. There was so much resentment, feeling of abandonment. Even though Stiles kept pointing out that Peter was never given a choice in abandoning her.

The flight was long and agonizing. She hated the confinement and flying was most definitely not something coyotes were supposed to do. There was a near constant rumble in her chest. It was Chris who tried to calm her down, tried to distract her. Somehow, it worked.

Malia relaxed marginally when they actually reached London and then the mansion. She liked Derek and Cora, had missed her cousins. The den was nice too, Peter even gave her the room right opposite Stiles' so she could stay close to him. First she had a shower, because ten hours of flight, all these foreign scents. Then dinner was waiting for them all.

"We're so glad you're here," Boyd grinned at Stiles as he put down food.

He reached out, like he wanted to rest a hand on his shoulder, but paused halfway there with a sad smile on his face. She'd seen the way they all wanted to hug Stiles. And how he had flinched away. He always did. She'd been trying to scent-mark him for months but barely got a grasp in. At first, she thought it was about her, that she had done something wrong, or that he didn't see her as pack anymore, but Lydia had explained it to her with a pained expression.

"It's not about you," Malia offered softly, looking at them.

Boyd with his mate Erica next to him, both holding onto each other to compensate for not getting to touch Stiles. Isaac curled half against Cora and half against Derek. Even Derek had his arms crossed over his chest to keep from hugging Stiles. Cora and Jackson watched with calm, curious expressions. And then there were Peter and Chris, who kept hovering as close as they were allowed.

"Lydia says that he's afraid to hurt us," Malia muttered, eyes landing on Stiles. "Even though we keep telling him that he won't. And that we're going to be fine."

Stiles averted his eyes and drew his legs up against his chest, looking small on his chair. Chris sighed and reached out, laying an arm around Stiles' shoulders, pulling him closer. He was the first person Stiles allowed to touch him. There was a sense of envy there. Malia wanted to cuddle up to her first pack-mate again, missed the way he used to allow her to crawl into his bed for comfort.

"I killed Allison. I drove a sword through Scott. I killed Aiden."

His voice cracked and sounded empty, but it was still good to hear it at all. His constant rambling was a comfort she never thought she'd have to miss. Chris pulled him even closer.

"You did not kill Allison," Chris spoke firmly, not allowing argument. "What happened wasn't your fault, baby. You were a victim too, not the culprit."

He pressed a gentle kiss to the side of Stiles' face, before Peter cleared his throat. "How about we eat dinner before any more emotional conversations, mh? Our darling here needs some meat on his ribs and I believe he's never had the pleasure of eating the Boyd family stew."

Stiles frowned and pushed his plate away. "I'm not hungry."

Erica growled playfully at her, leaning forward. "Boyd is an amazing cook. You have to eat his food. You can't just say no. You're missing out big time. C'mon, Batman. We haven't seen you in half a year, we missed you. He cooked this specifically for you."

Boyd looked sheepish, trying to half hide in his mate's curls in embarrassment. So that was true. Malia tilted her head and put her spoon into the stew, poking around curiously. From the corner of her eyes, she watched Stiles, who very reluctantly picked up his spoon too. The first bite he took and made a small noise, Boyd practically beamed at him, which – judging by the surprise on most others' faces – was a rare sight to see. Erica grinned happily and pecked his cheek. Maybe. Maybe this could be a good pack, a pack that would take care of Stiles and help him.

/break\

Stiles didn't really understand what was happening. Peter and Chris, of all people, had come back for him. Had insisted on taking him to London too. So he could be with Derek and Cora and Isaac again. And… And Boyd and Erica? Stiles still didn't really know how that had happened, even though he had been in London for two weeks. They weren't telling him anything if he didn't ask. Because they wanted to make him talk. Which was infuriating. All his life, nobody had ever wanted to make him talk, but suddenly everyone was oh so eager. Fuck them. Why did it make him feel weirdly warm and comforted by that though. He heaved a sigh.

"C'mon, Batman," Erica curled up next to him on the couch. "Ask. Please. You must be curious to hear about how Boyd and I have been doing and how we ended up here, right? ...Right? Because we were so curious about you and everyone else filled us in best they could. Not that they had all the information. Not even Malia seems to, even though she was living back in Beacon Hills with you. Which also. Holy shit. Peter has a daughter. That's wild. Also, are all Hales just so damn pretty?"

Stiles snorted out a small laugh. "They have strong genes."

Erica perked up so much, offering the brightest smile just because he'd said something. "Yeah, definitely. I mean, look at us, our pack is just generally beautiful, right?"

She winked at him with a grin. He wrapped his arms a little tighter around his knees. A small wince escaped him as the motion pulled on the injury on his shoulder. Chris was keeping it clean and changed his bandages twice a day, but he'd also had to reopen it to clean it out in the first place.

"What happened to you, Batman?" Erica asked softly, near desperate.

"I think…" Stiles blinked slowly. "I gave up."

He started blinking faster, trying to get rid of the tears as he realized how true that was. He had given up. He'd stopped fighting, stopped caring, stopped feeling like he deserved anything. Comfort, love, redemption, care. He quickly got up and practically fled into his bedroom.

Predictably, it didn't take long for someone to knock on his door. Stiles was fairly sure that they were keeping him on a suicide watch. Not that he planned on killing himself, but he could understand why they would be concerned about that. He was a fucking mess and didn't open up enough to tell them anything that would reassure them.

The surprise was who came knocking on his door this time though. Stiles stared at Jackson. He wasn't surprised that the jock was part of the Hale Pack, he had been for however brief the summer had been, and now that everyone had come to London, specifically for him – Stiles was aware of Peter's logic there, he didn't need to ask, didn't need Peter to explain it – it had been a foregone conclusion. What Stiles couldn't figure out though was why Jackson would come here, to him.

"Do you blame me for the kanima?"

Stiles jerked back in surprise, not having seen that coming. He didn't answer, lost for words.

"The people who died. Who you saw dying. The attacks against you and the pack. Do you blame me for any of it?" Jackson asked slowly, leaning against the door. "Do you blame me for the attack on the station, the dead deputies that I'm sure you knew personally?"

"No," Stiles' eyebrows pulled together as he spoke with determination. "Matt was controlling you."

"Then why," Jackson looked him dead in the eyes. "Why do you blame yourself for what that demon did? It was controlling you. If what the kanima did wasn't my fault, then what the Nogitsune did wasn't your fault either, Stilinski. You can't have it both ways."

Stiles jerked back violently at that, feeling as though he'd been slapped. And then anger and frustration took over. He glared at Jackson, fists shaking next to his body.

"That's different," Stiles growled. "It wasn't your fault! You had no choice. You were alone, that's why it got a hold of you, and that wasn't your fault. The Nogitsune got into my head because I left the door open, because I wasn't strong enough to protect myself. It was my fault that I got possessed. Both Scott and A… Allison partook in the same ritual but it didn't take either of them. It went after me, specifically, and I wasn't strong enough to fight it."

"How would you have fought a demon in your head?" Jackson asked baffled.

Stiles threw his hands up, letting sparks fly from his finger-tips, letting his eyes flash with turquoise fire, spitting his words like acid. "I'm magic! I'm a Spark! That's why it picked me in the first place! So it could feed on my magic. And I let it. I should have been in control of my magic, enough to fight it off, but I couldn't, because I'm useless. My magic wasn't enough to fight it off, but it was enough to keep me alive. Nobody's ever survived a possession from a Nogitsune, everyone got to just die and not live with the aftermath, but not me, no, my magic was enough to make sure I survive and now I have to live with it."

He was shouting and shaking, angry tears burning in his eyes. "I have to live with it all in a way you don't. Because I remember every second. I remember what it felt like to drive the sword through Scott, I remember the glee and excitement the Nogitsune felt when doing so, I remember what it felt like to drive the sword through Allison, I remember her blood on my hands, how warm it was, I remember the look on her face, I remember how she tried to reassure me, tell me that it wasn't my fault, even as my hands drove the sword deeper into her! I killed her. I may not have chosen to do it, but I was present for every second of it, I see it every time I close my eyes. I killed her."

His knees buckled and he went down onto the floor with a sob, the memories of Allison's death once again overwhelming him. Jackson tentatively stepped up to him and crouched down next to him. After a moment, he rested a hand on Stiles' uninjured shoulder.

"None of that makes it any more your fault," Jackson whispered. "It wasn't your fault. What matters is if you wanted it or not, and you didn't want to do it, did you?"

Stiles violently shook his head, sobbing out. "No. No, no, no. She was my friend. I didn't…"

Jackson's other arm went around him and even as Stiles stiffened, Jackson pulled him into a hug. "That's what matters. If someone were holding a gun to your head to force you to do something heinous, that doesn't make it your fault either, you were forced to do it. It wasn't your fault."

After moments that felt like hours did Stiles start clinging onto Jackson, crying into the other boy's chest. Jackson kept repeating that it wasn't Stiles' fault, kept explaining why it wasn't his fault, and the longer he did, the truer his words sounded, even though Stiles still felt detached from them.

/break\

Peter had to admit, of everyone from the pack who'd tried to get Stiles to talk more than a sentence, he had not expected it to be Jackson. But then it made perfect sense, especially considering their conversation. They had something in common that Peter hadn't considered yet.

"Will you tell me why you keep watching us sleep, darling?"

Peter stretched wide and sat up against their headboard. He was well aware that Stiles had spent the majority of every night in their bed. Sitting perched at the very edge of the bed, curled tightly against the foot-end, just… watching Peter and Chris sleep. The second night, he'd wanted to say something, but Chris had stopped him with a half-hidden glance, conveying with one look that he feared speaking up would chase Stiles away and whatever the reason why Stiles sat at their bed, it seemed to give him some sense of comfort. They didn't want to take any comfort away from Stiles.

That had been at first, but now it'd been a month. A month with barely any words. For the most part, he didn't expect an answer. He hoped for one, yes, but he didn't expect it. It had been a week now, that Stiles was living with them, and his yelled conversation with Jackson had been the most Stiles had spoken so far. Patience. Patience wasn't Peter Hale's strength. Having been locked into his body for six damn years had done nothing but make him impatient, really.

"I wanna make sure you're real," Stiles whispered, barely audible. "I'm still not… This doesn't seem real. Why would you and Peter come for me. Why would Boyd and Erica be here. Why would Jackson try to comfort me. Why would Mal come here when she still can't stand you. Why would Lydia and Kira want to follow here, leave their families and the pack behind."

"Because we all care about you, Stiles," Peter said gently, offering Stiles a pained smile. "We all care deeply about you and want you to be happy. We want you to heal."

"Why," Stiles' voice broke.

"Because you're pack to us all," Peter replied, holding Stiles' gaze. "You were the first person I asked to join my pack, when I first became an Alpha. You were part of Derek's pack when he was Alpha. You protected Isaac, Erica and Boyd while you were part of the Hale Pack. You and Lydia have a bond that goes farther back than that. I can't attest for Malia and Kira myself, but I know you became pack to them, they care just as deeply about you. And Jackson cares because, to a degree, he understands what you've been through, and he relates to you. You're pack, Stiles."

Every day, he told Stiles that. Every day, the betas tried to show him that. He'd just stare blankly at them. At first, he would even recoil from it. Like the notion of being pack hurt him. And… Peter thought that might even be true. He'd been pushed out of his pack, denounced by his Alpha. Broken pack-bonds hurt and they often made people shy to join another pack.

"I killed someone."

Peter heaved a deep sigh at that. Not again. For the past two weeks, Stiles hadn't brought up being at fault for Allison's death. They really hoped that Jackson had gotten through to him on it. Next to Peter, Chris stirred, sitting up with an expression that mirrored Peter's thoughts.

"His name was Donovan," Stiles continued before either of them could say something. "He'd been sent to intimidate me. Hunt me. Maybe kill me. I don't know. He chased me through the library, he… he bit me, with his… hand… I was sure he was going to kill me. And then I… killed him."

Bit him with his hand? Peter's eyes widened, gaze drawn to Stiles' shoulder. His breath hitched.

"I called the police but the body was just… gone," Stiles stared at the wall between Peter and Chris, unblinking. "I thought I'd made it up. That it had been another nightmare. Not real. Must have been. But he'd just removed the body and then it was back and he kept telling Scott… telling Scott that I had done it in cold blood. That I was still a killer. Still a danger. And Scott said… Scott said there are no murderers in his pack. He didn't believe me. I told him I hadn't meant to, but he didn't believe me, and why should he. And he told me I wasn't… pack."

Peter leaned heavily against his mate for strength and comfort. So that was what had happened. Where the injury came from. Why Stiles was no longer pack. What… could Peter say to that?

"Who, Stiles," Chris' voice was barely contained anger. "Who sent this Donovan to hunt you down? Who took the body away and told Scott you were a killer?"

Stiles' mouth clicked shut and he averted his gaze, making himself small again. Okay, wrong approach then. It seemed Stiles was done talking for the night. Peter closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. Whatever he said next, it had to be good. He couldn't lose the ground they'd just gained with Stiles. Leaning forward, Peter reached out to grab Stiles' hand.

"I killed Laura. And even before her, I had killed people, as my pack's Left Hand," Peter stated. "My eyes were already blue before I became an Alpha. Christopher has killed before. Derek, Malia and Jackson all have blue eyes too. In this pack, we do not wear our past with shame. We are embraced wholly for who we are. That includes all faults and regret. Taking a life doesn't make you a bad person, what matters is what you do next, darling. In this pack, we don't judge."

Wide doe-eyes turned toward him at that, with a look of pure, raw hope and longing. Peter couldn't suppress the shudder when he felt the pack-bond snap into place. Finally. After all this time, finally, he had Stiles in his pack, his first chosen beta was his now. A broad smile spread over Peter's lips, all fangs, eyes glowing Alpha red. Near naturally, Stiles bared his throat for his Alpha.

"C'mere, darling," Peter opened his eyes. "If you insist on being here every night, at least do get comfortable, mh? The bed is quite big enough for all three of us."

Reluctantly did Stiles climb up and allow Peter to hug him close and tuck him between Peter and Chris. The hunter smiled as he laid his arms around Stiles from his other side, kissing his temple.

"Sleep," Chris ordered. "Sleep and we'll watch over you. We'll protect you."

And for the first time since he'd moved in with them, Stiles slept for more than four consecutive hours, safely tucked between the Alpha pair, protected from either side, with new, warm pack-bonds buzzing in his chest. Peter himself fell asleep with a smile on his lips, feeling their new bond.

/break\

Isaac, Boyd and Erica were sitting on the couch together. Though Isaac kept shoving Erica off Boyd because he had signed up for a movie, not for a live show of his two friends making out, or so he kept claiming. Erica just kept cackling at him and retaliating by kissing Boyd again.

"Can… I join you?" Stiles asked, sounding a little unsure.

He stood in the doorway, watching them. The pack-bonds were a warm, comforting presence in his soul and he loved that he could actually tell them apart. It was due to his Spark, he knew that. But he could see the brilliant night-blue of Boyd's bond thrumming next to the near golden yellow of Erica's and the emerald-green of Isaac's. All three betas turned to look at him with open, casual smiles. Trying not to pressure him. Everyone kept trying not to pressure him. Everyone aside from Stiles himself. He just wanted to get better, hated every time he disappointed them – even if they would never say it, he could still see the sadness on their faces whenever he shied away from their touch. Taking a shaky breath, Stiles walked over to them and sat down next to Boyd.

Boyd and Erica were easier to be around than the others, because they hadn't been there during the Nogitsune. With everyone else (okay, aside from Jackson but Stiles had complicated and confusing feelings on the other jock ever since their little kanima vs Nogitsune conversation so despite not having been there, Stiles kind of included him among those who were there because, in his own way, Jackson had been there. Just… in Stiles' place), it was different. There was that edge of guilt he still battled, because they'd seen what he had done. But Boyd and Erica hadn't, they just remembered the Stiles from before the possession. It made it easier for Stiles, so he found himself sitting quietly just close to them more and more often.

"We got snacks," Erica grinned and put a bowl in Boyd's lap so Stiles could reach it.

He couldn't fight the tiny smile as he noticed that they'd included all his favorite snack foods. Like they had known he'd join them sooner or later, or at least had hoped so. Because they liked spending time with him. Didn't blame him. Thought he was worth the effort.

"You didn't miss much yet," Isaac rested his chin on Erica's shoulder to look at Stiles. "There were four make-out sessions from Boyd and Erica while the Waynes died. Which. Everyone who has ever seen anything Batman related knows. It's always the same. Pearls scattering everywhere."

"High-quality pearls wouldn't do that," Stiles hummed softly. "They're not just on one loose string, they are separated, so even if the necklace broke, the other pearls would stay on."

He turned away awkwardly when he saw the practically beaming expressions on the betas faces. For some reason, people missed his rants and ramblings and random facts. He bit his lips, feeling stupidly proud of himself for having maneuvered this basic social interaction. He rewarded himself with a tiny Mars bar from the bowl and settled in more comfortably for the movie.

/break\

Stiles very tentatively sat down next to Derek. Very close to Derek. Nearly close enough to touch. The beta didn't show that he'd noticed, continued reading his book. Carefully did Stiles scoot just a little closer, until their knees were touching. His heart was racing irrationally much and he was biting his lip, but when he chanced a glance, he saw a small smile on Derek's face, even while Derek kept looking at his book. Feeling encouraged, he got just a tiny bit closer, so their thighs lined up. It was a millimeter by millimeter process until, about fifteen minutes later, Stiles was more or less tucked under one of Derek's arms and slowly relaxing into the touch.

"I missed you, Sourwolf," Stiles whispered ever so softly.

Taking that as permission, Derek properly laid his arm around Stiles and pulled him closer until his nose was buried in Stiles' hair. "I missed you too, Little Red."

Closing his eyes, Stiles allowed himself a small smile of his own. When he opened his eyes again, Derek was holding the book so Stiles could also look at it and read with him. In his chest, his pack-bond with Derek thrummed stronger than ever before. A presence he'd missed ever since Derek had lost his Alpha spark, ever since the Hale Pack had… stopped existing, really.

"I wanted to call you," Stiles admitted after a couple minutes. "When he tried to kill me. My first instinct was to call you. Because you're the one who always answered and always came."

Every time Scott prioritized date night with Allison over Stiles' safety. It didn't need to be said, Derek knew it as well as Stiles did. From the beginning of this supernatural mess, Derek had very quickly become someone Stiles could rely on. Who worked with him and even when there had been mutual threats, they still saved each other's lives over and over again.

"I would have come," Derek said. "If you'd called and asked for my help, I would have come."

Stiles could feel a tension draining out of him that had been with him since Donovan's death. He closed his eyes again and leaned more heavily against Derek, allowing the warmth and comfort to lull him into a more or less peaceful sleep.

/break\

Stiles hadn't gone to bed in his own room in over a month now. All pretense of him sleeping there had gone out the window the night he had told Chris and Peter about Donovan. Though he still refused to tell them who had sent this Donovan guy and it was driving Chris mad. The hunter in him reared his head for the first time in many months. He wanted to hunt down whoever had tried to kill their boy, and he wanted to make it hurt. Though he knew, realistically, that he wouldn't. He had yet to be able to leave Stiles out of his sight for more than an hour. Flying all the way to California again while leaving Stiles in London was a horrible thought he couldn't entertain, not even for the sake of avenging their boy. Though Chris trusted his mate to get the job done, when it was time.

"You're looking rested, doll," Chris commented with a small, pleased smile.

Stiles was already sitting on the edge of their bed, kicking his feet a little. Wearing pajama bottoms and one of Chris' worn-out shirts. The bags under his eyes were still there but they were no longer black, only a light blue. And today, he really did look somewhat rested.

"I took a nap on Derek earlier," Stiles admitted and blushed. "Didn't mean to fall asleep on him."

"Oh, don't worry, he did not look like he minded," Peter chuckled.

The Alpha got out of the en-suite bathroom, wearing only pajama bottoms, a few droplets of water running down his toned chest. Chris' eyes darkened as he watched them trail over soft skin and firm muscles. The only downside of Stiles trusting them enough to sleep in their bed was that Chris and Peter hadn't actually had sex in their own bed at night for months.

The upside of that was that the two of them had gotten decidedly more creative though. Beyond day-time fucking while Stiles was occupied somewhere else, they'd also explored other rooms to have fun in and Chris also dropped by Peter's law-firm a lot for 'lunch'.

Still, it would be nice to ravish Peter in their own bed before sleep again. It had been something Chris enjoyed very much, to fall asleep in Peter's arms and post-coital bliss. Sighing, he rested a hand on Stiles' head, gently brushing his fingers through the soft, messy hair.

"We're glad you're starting to feel more comfortable with the pack," Chris offered with a smile.

Both Peter and Chris finished getting ready for bed before joining the young Spark, once again caging Stiles from either side. Protecting him. He took a deep, relieved breath and relaxed between their arms. Chris loved to see him relaxed, but he also hated the reminder of just how much tension Stiles carried throughout the day. Chris leaned forward to press a very gentle kiss against Stiles' shoulder, where he knew the by now healed and scarred bite sat. A silent promise that they would never let something like that happen again, that they would protect their boy and if they couldn't, they would at least take care of him. For a moment Stiles tensed, before he relaxed into Chris again.

"Theo," Stiles' voice was barely a breath against Peter's chest.

"What was that, darling?" Peter asked, nose buried in Stiles' hair.

"Theo," Stiles spoke just a little louder, yet still below a whisper. "The one who'd… sent Donovan to kill me. The one who got Scott to kick me out of the pack. His name is Theo Raeken."

Chris couldn't help but pull Stiles even closer, arms tightening around the boy's midsection, until Stiles was pressed flush against his front, Chris' lips against the Spark's neck. Peter laid tense beneath Stiles, his lips drawn up into a snarl that showed some fang.

"Thank you for telling us, sweetheart," Peter breathed deep to keep calm. "I'll kill him."

"Don't hurt Scott though," Stiles requested. "I don't… He didn't… He lost Allison and he tried and I made it hard on… on everyone… to get close to me and then Theo came and listened to him and was there for him and got into his head and that's not… that's not Scott's fault."

"It's not your fault either, baby," Chris argued with a frown.

And it spoke volumes that Stiles didn't argue with him on that point. With a proud smile did Chris press another kiss against Stiles' neck, causing their boy to shudder a little. Peter sighed and rolled over so he could look at them both. His fingers curled beneath Stiles' chin and tilted his head up.

"For you," Peter promised, a serious expression on his face. "Scott gets to live by your grace."

A tiny smile tugged on Stiles' lip before he snugged against Peter. "Thank you, Alpha."

/break\

Noah smiled as he sat down for dinner with the pack. It was loud, but the positive kind of loud. People who loved each other arguing with each other, laughing with each other. His eyes were trained on his son though. Over the past months since Stiles had moved to London, Stiles had improved so much. Well, maybe not that much if one considered the time. But then, looking at how much he had stagnated back home, for so long, this was close to a miracle.

He wasn't as pale anymore, wasn't as thin anymore – the pack was very successful in feeding him and making him participate in meals, even if he'd only eaten tiny parts of his meals in the beginning, he was by now up to full plates. He looked much more well-rested.

Every second weekend, Noah flew out to London to see his son and every time, he saw the improvements. It was the reassurance he needed to know that he had done the right thing. Especially in the first two weeks after Peter and Chris had taken Stiles with them, Noah had fought with himself. Felt like a failure for being unable to help his son, felt like he was abandoning Stiles by sending him away. As his father, he should be the one to be there for his boy.

But he couldn't. Stiles wasn't opening up to him the way Noah would have wanted. Maybe because their relationship had been frayed for years, maybe because everything in Beacon Hills was a burden, maybe because Chris and Peter came in from a different angle that worked better.

He was pulled from his thoughts by a sound he hadn't heard in over half a year. His head snapped over and he stared at Stiles with wide eyes that quickly filled with tears. Jackson and Erica were bickering about something and whatever it was, it had made Stiles laugh. A small laugh, but a real one. Noah wasn't the only one at the table to stare at Stiles, most others with smiles and pride, but not with surprise. Which meant they managed to make his boy laugh again, more regularly.

Reaching out, Noah gripped Peter's arm rightly, gaining the Alpha's attention. "Thank you."

"This," Peter whispered back. "Is nothing you need to thank us for."

/break\

Peter had had a very fun trip to California, even if he had to wait over a month to go. Sadly, he couldn't just abandon his work, pack and territory for a couple of days to go hunt down the bastard immediately. He was now a 'responsible adult', who led his own law-firm (one of the things he'd established and worked on before they went to fetch their boy), his pack and particularly his legal charges (of which Malia Tate Hale was now officially one. Hah) relied on him. He needed to be reliable. Which meant he couldn't just disappear for a little murder spree.

Still, it had been glorious. The look on the boy's face when Peter sank his claws in him and told him why he was going to die. For hurting Stiles. The realization, the dread and then the way his life left his eyes. Beautiful. Though Peter had, of course, taken his time. Chased him, the way he'd let Stiles be chased. Made it hurt, the way Stiles had been hurting.

"Pack, your Alpha has returned," Peter called out when he got home. "And I come bearing gifts."

Lydia behind him rolled her eyes in exasperation. Oh, the ten hour flight back to London had been torment. At least Kira was a delight. His new favorite non-Chris and non-Stiles person, truly.

"Lydia," Jackson gasped stunned, staring at his mate with wide eyes as he came running down the stairs. "I smelt you, but… Why are you here? How are you here?"

For the first time in the past twelve hours did Lydia smile delighted. She rushed forward, wrapping her arms tightly around Jackson and pulling him into a kiss that lasted decidedly too long and turned far too indecent considering the entire rest of the pack was there too.

"Kira?" Malia made a small noise as she approached her own mate.

"So my parents were fine with me finishing my last year of school here, I finally got them to agree," Kira smiled brightly. "But I wanted to surprise you!"

"I delayed my visit to California until an opportune time. Figured I could get my hands dirty and fetch our wayward pack-members in one go," Peter smirked at his betas.

Not that Jackson, Lydia, Malia and Kira were listening to him. They were too busy kissing and touching and oh this was absolutely getting inappropriate between Jackson and Lydia. The rest of the pack watched them with varying degrees of disgust and happiness on their account.

"I am so looking forward to getting to know you, Kira," Erica grinned, forcibly pulling Malia off the kitsune. "Malia talks about you all the time. And I mean all the time."

"I missed you," Cora pushed past her cousin to hug Kira herself. "Malia has been absolutely unbearable without you. Didn't know it was physically possible to increase the growling."

"I hate you all," Malia declared with a glare.

Her glare softened immediately when she looked at Kira though. Rolling his eyes fondly, Peter made his way through the pack to reach his mate and their chosen. His good mood dampened a little when he saw the more prominent bags beneath Stiles' eyes and the near grim look on Chris' face.

"What happened?" Peter wanted to know, concern coloring his voice.

He hadn't even finished the sentence before their Spark was latched onto him, wrapping tightly around Peter and burying his face in Peter's chest. With a soft look did Peter wrap his own arms around Stiles to hug him closer. Chris sighed and leaned in to kiss Peter.

"What happened is that you were gone for the entire weekend," Chris chuckled, though the sound wasn't a happy one. "Stiles hasn't slept since you left. This was the first time any member of our pack was gone for longer than a couple of hours."

Oh. Peter sighed and buried his nose in Stiles' hair. They'd feared this, it was the main reason Chris had stayed behind. To make sure at least one of them would be with Stiles. Now Peter was all the more glad that he had put fetching the betas onto this weekend's agenda too. He scent-marked Stiles thoroughly and let the boy get his fill of hugging.

"I'm sorry I worried you, darling," Peter tried to offer a smile. "But I brought you a souvenir."

"…Is it Theo's ripped out heart?" Stiles asked warily.

Peter deflated visibly. "Turns out that flights out of the US are very, very strict and even I couldn't bribe my way into transporting a human heart out…"

"How in the world did you know that he would actually try that?" Erica stared from Stiles to Peter. "I thought you were joking when you said you feared Peter would bring back a human heart!"

Stiles got on his toe-tips so he could look over Peter's shoulder directly at Erica. "I know Peter."

And oh, Peter was positively beaming at that. His boy really did know him. Nuzzling into Stiles' neck, he inhaled the sweet, alluring scent of their Spark and rubbed his face along it.

"If it's not Theo's ripped out heart, what is it?" Stiles pushed off Peter a little to look at the Alpha.

"I did technically bring you Lydia and Kira, though you will have to share those, I'm afraid," Peter frowned playfully. "But I also brought something just for you."

He went to his suitcase and got a wooden, carved box out. Stiles stared at it as though he still expected a heart to be inside. But no, sadly, Peter had to abandon that plan. He would have loved to present it to Stiles, but oh well. When Stiles opened the box, he made a small, wondrous noise.

"Is it…" Stiles trailed off, carefully touching.

"What is it?" Cora wanted to know, immediately hanging over Stiles' shoulder.

She was closely followed by the other betas, Isaac on Stiles' other side and the rest crowding in behind them. They all stared blankly and in confusion at the box. Peter took the moment to pull Chris into a proper kiss, running his hands up and down his mate's arms, scent-marking him.

"You, uh, brought Stiles bird food?" Isaac guessed confused.

"It's a seed," Stiles corrected, voice so soft and touch so gentle as he took it out of the box.

When he looked up, his lips were stretched into the brightest smile any of them had seen since Stiles had moved here. The next moment, he took off, running out into their large garden. The pack refused to be left behind and followed him. By the time they reached him, Stiles was already on his knees, digging a hole with his bare hands. He sat by the treeline that surrounded their property.

"Stiles, we have shovels for that," Boyd noted worried.

"No," Stiles shook his head, sounding and looking more excited than Peter had seen him in too long. "No, I have to do this myself. It's okay. It's good. Very good."

Peter didn't even try to fight the pleased smile. He got his boy excited. The pack gathered in a circle around Stiles, watching him dig a little hole and put the seed in before smoothing the dirt back over it. He pressed his hands down onto the ground, closing his eyes for a few breaths. When he opened them again, they were ablaze with a burning, teal-colored fire. The sheer power Stiles radiated took Peter's breath away and he couldn't do anything but cling onto Chris' hand. The magic flowed from Stiles, down his arms in currents like lightning. They all watched mesmerized, until Stiles gasped out and let himself fall backward, arms spread out and satisfied smile on his lips. The dirt in front of him broke as a small, green rod poked out and uncurled.

"Did… you just… make a plant grow?" Jackson asked slowly.

"No," Stiles laughed, a hiccuping and near hysteric sound. "I just made a Nemeton grow."

The pack tensed at that. They knew what a Nemeton was, either from their own experiences with the darach and then the Nogitsune, or from the others' tales about it. The magic tree that protected its lands and granted a Spark their magic. Chris raised his eyebrows at Peter.

"I asked Marin for help to extract a seed from our old and very much dying Nemeton," Peter replied. "Because a Spark's magic is fed by the Nemeton and I want our Spark to be at home here."

Stiles sat up again and bent forward, gently cupping the little plant. "You are going to grow big and strong and you will be magnificent."

When he got up, he walked over to Peter and pulled him into a kiss. The Alpha stood frozen in surprise, processing the feeling of those pink, plush lips against his own and yet fully unable to react. Stiles was still smiling when he stepped away. Though he didn't step too far. He grabbed Chris by the hem of his shirt and pulled him in until he could kiss the hunter too.

"I… didn't see that coming," Erica whispered surprised. "I mean, not the kissing, that has been coming for like months now, but I didn't expect Stiles to take the first step."

"Yeah, I was fully convinced Stilinski didn't know what was going on," Jackson agreed.

"Not 'didn't know', but more didn't have the space for it," Isaac argued softly.

Stiles left his hand resting on Chris' chest, his other hand reaching out to take Peter's, even as he turned to regard the betas. "I'm not an idiot, Jacks. I know that they've been courting me for months. Iz is closer to… right. I guess. I had other things on my mind than to try and think about romantic feelings. But I really can't ignore that Peter brought me my own Nemeton."

His thumb was gently running over Peter's palm and he tugged the Alpha closer, looking at Peter with so much warmth and love. "You got me Boyd and Erica back. You gave me my whole pack back. You got me out of there when I really, really needed to leave. You killed Theo. You brought me Malia and Kira. And now you also bring me my own Nemeton."

"I'm not as good at the… emotional comforting, as Christopher," Peter whispered. "But I too want you to know that I'm taking care of you."

"Oh, I know," Stiles grinned and turned so he could lean his back against Chris, before he tilted his head to look up at the hunter. "And I know how much you've been taken care of me too. Don't… Don't think I'm not aware of that, even if your mate comes in with the big guns."

Chris grunted, looking endearingly flustered while wrapping a possessive arm around Stiles' waist. It was true. Chris had done all the heavy lifting on the emotional support. He'd been taking care of Stiles' injury, made sure their boy slept, bathed, ate, comforted him and soothed him in a way Peter just… didn't feel cut out for. Felt overwhelmed by. He tried to be a comforting presence too, but it didn't come as naturally to Peter as it did to Chris, so he tried to show it in different ways.

"What happens now, darling?" Peter asked.

He stepped up to crowd Stiles against Chris, happy to have their Spark between them. Stiles wrapped his arms around Peter's neck and tilted his head.

"Now…" Stiles repeated the word softly. "Now, it's time to think about the future."

"I like that," Peter smiled and kissed Stiles again. "I like that you're ready to think beyond today."

He hadn't so far. They all knew it. Stiles existed in the now. He hadn't brought up whether he wanted to go back to Beacon Hills or stay in London, how he planned on proceeding with his education. Like he didn't believe in a future, or didn't find it worth thinking about.

"Tell us how we can help you," Chris requested. "Anything we can do."

Stiles hummed in reply and tilted his head back against Chris' shoulder. Which bared his throat in too tempting a manner for Peter to deny. Wait. He no longer had to deny himself, did he? With a wolfish grin did he lean in and start kissing down that pale neck.

"A—and that is our cue to leave," Boyd cleared his throat.

"But I want to watch, this is hot," Erica argued.

"Babe, I love you. Absolutely not," Boyd growled and grabbed his mate around the waist.

Erica protested as she got carried off, while the other betas were more eager to leave the garden. Not that Peter paid them much mind, his focus was entirely on that delicious neck he now got to mark up. Soft skin that gave so easily as he nipped and sucked his marks on it.

"I do hope you don't mind hickeys," Chris chuckled. "Because Peter is… very possessive."

"I like feeling like I belong to you," Stiles hummed and offered Chris a smile. "Because I do. You saved me. And not in the cheesy 'true love cures depression and solves all problems' way, but… You were there when I needed someone, pushy when I refused to budge, patient when I needed it, took care of me when I didn't take care of myself, gave me a place to belong, people to belong with. You saved me when I didn't think I was worth saving anymore."

/break\

Lazy Sunday mornings quickly became Chris' favorite time of the week after Stiles joined their relationship. Waking up with Peter sleepily cuddled up to Stiles, both their heads resting on Chris' chest. For a few minutes, he got to just enjoy the moment before either of his lovers stirred themselves and even then, they would stay in bed for at least another hour or two, sometimes even longer, if Peter woke up first and went to make them breakfast to be eaten in bed.

"Mornin'," Stiles yawned and stretched wide like a cat.

He leaned up to kiss Chris and that too was something Chris couldn't get enough of. Though in the months of Stiles living with them, Chris had never felt like they were missing out on anything. They had their boy, even willingly sleeping in their bed, got to comfort him and see him slowly get better. That was all they needed. Yet now that they got to kiss Stiles, now that Stiles would curl up on either of their laps during movie nights (and Peter and Chris had had a couple competitions about that. One that got a little out of control and ended with Stiles very pointedly sitting down between Erica and Malia instead), now that there was heated making out? Chris wouldn't want to miss it.

"Any plans for the day, doll?" Chris asked, knuckles gracing along Stiles' ribs.

Stiles groaned, not in pleasure but in frustration. "There is so much studying to do. Summer school sucks. I know, I know, I could just repeat last year but I don't want to, I want to graduate with everyone else. I just want to skip summer school."

He wiggled his nose and made a cute face. It made Chris want to kiss him. An impulse the hunter gladly followed. The frustration melted back into a pleased smile and Stiles snuggled up to him.

"Okay. You will now have the job of reward system for the day."

"I'm sorry?" Chris chuckled amused, raising both eyebrows.

"I finish any of my reading, I get kisses," Stiles declared.

"Oh. I will be your rewards for doing your work," Chris laughed and brushed his lips against Stiles' forehead. "You're adorable, doll. And you can have all the kisses… you'll earn."

Stiles beamed at him. It was still breathtaking to see that, to see their boy happy again. He wasn't always, there was still a long way to go for Stiles, but he was getting there. Every other night, he would still wake up screaming and crying, usually followed by a day of Stiles fully avoiding all touch. Sometimes, he wouldn't talk, sometimes he got that far away look on his face and stare into nothingness. But they got through those days because of moments like this. Because they knew there were better days to come, knew Stiles would smile at them like this again.

"I'm glad," Stiles whispered as he rested his head back on Chris' chest.

"Glad to do your summer school work?" Chris teased with a smirk.

Stiles shook his head ever so slightly. "I'm glad you took me away."

It made Chris pause, his eyes both warm and sad. He pressed another kiss to Stiles' head, his fingers gently carding through Stiles' hair. It was good to hear Stiles say that, admit that he was worth fighting for, that it was all worth fighting for.

"So are we, darling," Peter's voice was a purr. "But can you both be quiet now? I'm trying to sleep here. It is Sunday, I refuse to be awake before the sun on a Sunday."

Both Chris and Stiles exchanged a small smile at that, but they obeyed their Alpha.

~*~ The End ~*~

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Author's note: As you maybe can tell, this story kinda ran away from me... :D This was supposed to START with Chris and Peter coming to town after healing and then getting Stiles out. And then I wrote like 5k before PETER even got to London dear gods the Hale Pack Feels just gripped me too hard in this so I had to rebuild my Hale Pack first before I could let them save Stiles * shrugs helplessly *