A/N: Canon-divergent AU post-season 2. Canon timeline has been altered because everything happens way too fast for my liking. This work is no friend to Scott McCall, consider yourself warned.
Summary: Stiles has been pushed to the fringes of the pack-he's known this since he escaped the Argent's torture basement all by himself. He goes to the only person he can trust to do what needs to be done, the only one who might miss him when he's gone, and the only one he can really say is pack: Peter Hale. Then, an unexpected arrival opens up a whole new world of possibility-assuming they can survive and escape Beacon Hills. Beyond the borders, however, a larger conspiracy awaits, and they might need some help to face it. Or: A pack consisting of one former alpha werewolf, one Spark mage and one mage-not-otherwise-specified find family, healing and take on the world.
Chapter 3: Why Worry
Of course, Peter should have known that when Stiles told him that they would destroy Gerard Argent, his packmate meant to topple the Argent hunting empire—at least those loyal to Gerard and Kate's way of hunting. It would be a long-term project, but since Peter was convinced that the old hunter had backups for his contingencies, they were not in any rush. Instead, they focused on getting Erica and Boyd to safety, finalizing the details of their adoption into the Ito Pack.
As such, Stiles was currently sandwiched between the two betas as they waited in the parking lot at a large park just outside of Beacon Hills, the two having wrapped up the human in a bone-crushing hug.
"You'll stay in touch, right?" Erica was asking, running a hand down Stiles' arm as she stepped away, Boyd doing the same on the other side.
Stiles returned the gesture to both wolves with a grin, "Of course—and you two better do the same. And if things don't work out with the Ito Pack, call us before you run, 'kay?"
Peter watched with mild amusement as the two betas nodded enthusiastically before he approached the trio. Putting a hand on the back of each of their necks, the older wolf smirked, "And if you cause problems for Satomi, I will be hearing about it so, best behaviour. I'm not tangling with her on your behalf."
"Stop scaring the puppies, big bad," Stiles shoved an accusatory finger into Peter's chest before turning back to his friends, "and you two, enjoy getting out of this Hellmouth of a town."
The two younger wolves grinned at Stiles, pulling him for one more hug, ensuring that Peter also found himself entangled with them, until the rumble of a large black SUV announced the Ito Pack's arrival.
Erica and Boyd immediately stood behind Peter and Stiles, still nervous about meeting their new Alpha in person. They had all met over videochat multiple times, but it was going to be the first time any of them were meeting Alpha Ito and her advisors in person.
Stiles took his place on Peter's right, with Erica and Boyd behind the pair as a trio of people exited the vehicle. It wasn't going to be conventional by any means—but Peter and Satomi had both agreed that involving Derek was more hassle than it was worth. A short, elderly Japanese woman stepped forward, a gentle smile on her face that caused Erica and Boyd to relax visibly.
"Peter Hale, it has been too long. Thank you for entrusting us with these two young wolves," Satomi Ito spoke with a short bow, which Peter returned, "Meet my Right Hand, Rhys Huang and my Emissary, Kazuya Minase."
Two other people stepped forward, offering short bows and easy-going smiles at the assembled group.
"Alpha Ito, it is always a pleasure. Allow me to formally introduce my packmates: Stiles Stilinski, Erica Reyes and Vernon Boyd. We entrust Erica and Boyd to your care, Alpha."
Each of the teenagers bowed as they were introduced. Peter had explained that the Ito Pack maintained many Japanese customs, even if they were not all of Japanese or other Asian descent. Stiles had taken time to research and share basic social customs with the two werewolves, all three hoping to make a good impression on the pair's new pack.
"Erica, Boyd," the alpha motioned for the two to step forward, as her eyes flashed red, "we are pleased to offer you a place in our Pack."
The two betas shot a look to Peter, who nodded, and stepped forward to tilt their heads back in submission.
"We accept, Alpha," the pair said in unison, eyes flashing gold as Satomi reached out to place a hand over each of their hearts.
The two teens gasped, knees buckling. They were easily caught by Satomi and Rhys, who ushered them to the car so they could sit.
"We have a large pack; the bonds can be overwhelming, especially if you're not used to them," the Emissary, Kazuya, explained patiently to his new packmates with a smile.
"Thank you," Erica's smile was watery, as Boyd nodded beside her, "this…this is all we wanted."
Satomi smiled gently at the pair, placing a firm hand on the back of each of their necks to scent and ground them before she turned back towards Peter and Stiles.
"We will take good care of them, Peter. It may take time for them to get settled in, but please don't hesitate to reach out and come visit."
Peter nodded, placing a hand on Stiles' neck to contain some of the excitement he could feel the human trying to contain, "We will definitely come visit. I'm sure Stiles will have a million questions he would like to ask, given the chance."
Satomi laughed as Stiles flushed, biting his lip, and studying his shoes.
"I do—but I know getting Erica and Boyd situated is more important. Thank you for taking them in, Alpha Ito," Stiles said, glancing back to the smaller woman.
"Thank you for trusting us with them," Satomi said as she laid a gentle hand on Stiles' arm, "I'll make sure they update you from time to time."
Stiles and Peter both bowed as the woman turned back to the car, and Stiles waved to Erica and Boyd as the door to the SUV closed. The pair watched the Ito Pack drive off before returning to their own car to head back into town.
Even if the bruises and external scars had faded in the weeks following Erica and Boyd's escape to the Ito Pack, Stiles had yet to stop looking over his shoulder every time he left the house. Especially the times he was home alone, which were becoming fewer and farther between with how much time he spent researching, or just hanging out at Peter's apartment. He couldn't shake the vague unease that something was coming. It certainly did not help that the Pack were starting to smother him at every pack meeting he attended. Stiles figured it had something to do with Scott's possessiveness and misplaced protectiveness over the fact that his 'best friend' had started hanging out with the wolf that had bit him and killed Allison's aunt.
It frustrated Stiles more than anything. For as much as they dragged him into Pack meetings and demanded his research, they never really included him. Peter had confirmed that, for all they would push him around, he still didn't smell like any of the pack, and Stiles could tell they didn't notice how much 'their' human smelled like another wolf. Stiles felt more and more that his being there was purely performative—keep around the 'token human' and assign him tasks so that he feels like pack but never actually take him seriously. Peter had been tossed into much the same boat, but they would still call him if a fight got truly dire. At least research binges were more fun with Peter to bounce ideas off of.
His phone vibrated in his pocket, snapping Stiles out of his thoughts as he and Peter drove back towards the latter's apartment from a routine patrol of the Preserve. Looking down at the messages, the teen had half a mind not to reply.
"Is the pack's collective braincell failing them again?" Peter smirked from beside him as they waited for the light to change.
Stiles rolled his eyes, typing a quick response before pocketing the device again, "Something like that. Apparently I'm needed at the loft for a meeting."
"Just you?"
"They still think that you are doing something untoward or nefarious to yours truly," Stiles smirked, "but they also didn't say not to bring you. You'd show up for the drama anyways, zombie wolf, be honest."
"You do know me so well, darling."
Peter pulled a barely-legal U-turn, eyes darkening. He had been even less impressed by the pack's actions than Stiles recently. It might have something to due with the fact that for all Derek had made clear that the teen was not pack, they still called upon him and expected the human to drop everything to help them as if he was. Even then Stiles' advice was only taken into consideration when it suited Scott—and thus suited his shortsighted nephew.
At least Peter could take comfort in the fact that Stiles himself was under no illusions, despite how he always tried to do his best to help and make himself heard. The wolf reached over and ruffled Stiles' hair, letting his hand trail down the boy's neck, pleased when Stiles leaned into the touch and briefly ran his hand along Peter's forearm.
"Why don't we have a little fun at their expense?" Peter grinned.
At Stiles' raised eyebrow, the werewolf reached behind him and grabbed a jacket off the back seat, tossing it to the human who laughed when he caught on.
"Ten bucks says they won't notice it's yours—and another ten says one of the girls comments on the aesthetic," Stiles smirked.
"We both know the first is true, sweetheart. Double or nothing on the second."
Peter held out a hand to shake, and Stiles didn't hesitate on taking it.
The pack meeting had not been nearly as urgent as Scott had made it seem. At least not judging by the conversation the bitten wolf was having with his best friend, who he had immediately dragged away from Peter with a glare.
"Dude, why is Peter here?" Scott scowled.
"Cause you called a Pack meeting, obviously," Stiles bit back, already wanting to escape this conversation.
"He's not pack, Stiles. We can't trust him."
Stiles rolled his eyes, and was about to retort when Allison waltzed over. The huntress gave him a once over as she leaned into Scott.
"I see you've finally decided to update your wardrobe, Stiles," she said, voice brimming with faux-sweetness—she still hadn't forgiven him for outing her 'extra-curricular' activities in front of Scott and her dad. Not that Scott had cared, he'd forgiven her almost instantly.
"Yeah, something like that. So who died?" Stiles asked, a note of impatience in his voice that was lost on Scott.
Peter hid his snicker behind a cough as he lounged on the stairs. How none of these so-called werewolves could smell that the jacket clearly belonged to Peter—he had been either wearing it, or had left it in his car for the past week—let alone not react to it on the human they claimed as theirs was beyond him. The only one who would have noticed was Derek, but his nephew was also conspicuously absent from this meeting, despite the fact it was taking place in his loft.
The other teen, now with Allison wrapped securely in his arms, looked so utterly confused it took all of Stiles' self-control to not laugh at his expression.
"Dude, why did you think someone was dead? What the hell?!" Scott frowned, before recovering and bounding up in front of Stiles, who instinctively took a step back, "Hey, you gotta see this! You're a bit late, so everyone else already knows, but I just couldn't wait to show them!"
Scott flashed his eyes, now alpha red, at his friend before stepping back with a smug expression waiting for Stiles' reaction. Apparently, said reaction—or lack thereof—was underwhelming to the new alpha, who immediately launched into an explanation, as if Stiles wasn't the reason Scott knew anything about the supernatural to begin with.
"I'm the Alpha now, dude! Deaton says I'm a True Alpha—it just like, happened. No death or killing required! This is the way we're going to do things now, a new way. We don't have to kill to protect our territory, that I became the Alpha without having to kill anyone proves it! Deaton's going to be my Emissary, he's already started teaching me. It's like a—"
"—a magical advisor to the Pack," Stiles cut in, rolling his eyes, "I know, Scott. I've told you about pack structure before."
"Oh right," Scott paused for a moment, before continuing on as if he had not just been interrupted, "but like, that doesn't really matter cause we're gonna change the structure of the Pack. Like we don't need a…whatever that deals with protection, cause we'll all do that. And it doesn't just have to be wolves, it can be all supernaturals—give them a chance to do things right, without killing and being at odds with hunters."
Scott positively beamed at Allison at the last declaration, and Stiles could not stop himself from scoffing.
"Yeah, sure that sounds great. It'll be like a supernatural Woodstock around here in no time. Cause every monster that comes through is going to just say 'fuck it' to a little murder, mayhem, and bloodshed to make daisy chains, right?"
Frowning, as if he had not considered the possibility, Scott tilted his head at Stiles, "Well, we just have to protect Beacon Hills. So we drive them out, make them swear to stop hurting innocents if they don't want to join us! It'll be great, don't worry. Deaton has it all covered, we've got it handled, man."
"Uh-huh. Okay, well congrats on the whole Alpha by way of virtue thing," Stiles said, voice dripping with sarcasm that completely passesd Scott by, "but if there isn't actually an emergency, I have things to do. Oh, and sorry Allison—guess that means we're both out of the pack."
Allison frowned, looking at Stiles with a mix of apprehension and anger. Stiles pressed on before she could get a word in edgewise.
"Well, Scotty just said that the pack would welcome all supernaturals. Last I checked, hunters were decidedly not that."
"What the hell man? Allison is different—she knows about this world, she's a part of it because of her family. Of course she can be pack! She already is!" Scott pouted, holding Allison tighter.
"And I'm not part of it?"
Peter stood when he saw the conversation taking a turn, quietly making his way down the stairs as he kept to the shadows.
"You have a chance to be normal, dude. You're not cursed like the rest of us—you wouldn't understand."
Stiles scoffed, "You're right, I don't understand. Even if I was a werewolf, or some other supernatural, I wouldn't understand—because it's a gift Scott. What you are is a gift, and being a hunter isn't a curse it's a choice. Just because you won't bother listening to the people who could teach you to embrace your gift doesn't mean you have to make everyone else feel bad for being who they are."
"Well said, sweetheart," Peter pushed himself off the back wall and reached out to put an arm around Stiles' shoulders.
The human leaned into the touch with a huff of frustration. He looked up at the wolf, completely ignoring the rest of the pack who were stunned silent by his outburst.
"Can we leave now, creeper wolf? We've got things to do—and you owe me twenty bucks," Stiles grinned.
"A bet is a bet," Peter looked thoughtful as he pulled out his wallet, "Darling, why don't you keep the jacket as well—it suits you."
"You know, I think I just might."
Stiles smirked as the older man made a show of thumbing through the wad of bills he'd pulled out, finding a twenty amongst the hundreds and tucking it in the breast pocket of the dark burgundy military-style coat. Stiles had caught a glimpse of himself in the loft's windows as they'd entered, and even he had to admit that it looked good, the high collar accentuating his jawline, and even if it was a little big, it wasn't close to baggy or ill-fitted. Maybe it was time to do an update on his wardrobe.
Scott's eyes flashed red, voice carrying the weight of an order as he snarled, "Stay away from him, Peter."
Peter smirked, quirking an eyebrow as his own eyes flashed blue, "I'd really rather not."
Scott growled, flashing his teeth at the beta before Stiles stepped between the two, "Scott, if you don't want to end up eaten by whatever the local Hellmouth spits out, you should be inviting Peter in, because he has the most experience and knowledge out of any of us. He might be a sarcastic ass," Peter shrugged, not able to deny it, "but he actually shares his knowledge, unlike a certain druid. And you don't get to decide who I do, or don't, spend my time with. I can take care of myself."
"You can't trust him, Stiles. He's dangerous, and using you. We aren't killers—and that's what he'll make us. Look at what you almost did to Gerard."
"Gerard is a threat that needs to be eliminated, not everything can be solved with pinky promises and peace signs dude," Stiles sighed and tried his best not to roll his eyes, "And listen, if I ever feel unsafe I'll call you."
Lie, Peter thought smugly.
"And who says I trust him?" Stiles continued, deadpan even knowing that he trusted Peter with his life. He could practically feel Peter's knowing smirk on the back of his neck as he finished, "And who says I'm not dangerous too?"
Scott relented, rolling his eyes, "Dude, you're human. You're not dangerous to the supernatural."
"Whatever lets you sleep at night, Scotty," Stiles shot back and turned to leave, with Peter close on his heels.
Back out at the Mercedes that Peter had taken to driving since his resurrection, the wolf turned to Stiles with his trademark smirk firmly in place.
"You don't trust me? Darling, you wound me," he drawled, a hand over his heart.
"Of course I trust you, you're pack," Stiles replied with a roll of his eyes, as if it was the simplest thing in the world, "You doubt me, zombie wolf?"
Peter stared at him for a second before chuckling, "Only your fashion sense, sweetheart."
"Okay, one: ouch. Two: not all of us have Scrooge McDuck levels of money to roll around in."
"Even if you did have that much money, you would still be driving that bucket of tetanus on wheels," Peter shot back.
"Hey," Stiles puffed up slightly, indignant, "Leave Roscoe out of it—she has nothing to do with any of this!"
Thanks for reading! Sorry for the late updates-I'd been updating on AO3 and completely forgot to update here as well. So enjoy the upcoming onslaught of chapters?