Phoe's Friday Ficlets Chapter 6: Stalion: Revenge Is a Meal for Two, a teen wolf fanfic

Teen Wolf || Stalion || Teen Wolf || Revenge Is a Meal for Two || Teen Wolf || Stalion || Teen Wolf

Title: Revenge Is a Meal for Two – Friday Ficlets Series

Tags: m/m, Spark Stiles, murder

Main Pairing: Deucalion/Stiles

Teen Wolf Characters: Mieczysław 'Stiles' Stilinski, Deucalion Blackwood, Marin Morrell, Ethan Steiner, Aiden Steiner, Kali, Ennis

Summary: Deucalion comes to Beacon Hills to get his revenge on Gerard Argent. When he finds the man, there's already a powerful and vengeful Spark taking his own revenge on the man.

Revenge Is a Meal for Two

Friday Ficlets Series

Deucalion had waited for his revenge for years. Gathering strength, gathering a pack of Alphas, and doing his best to track down the man who had taken everything from him. His sight, his hope, his optimism and ideals, his pack. Gerard Argent had murdered half his pack and when Deucalion's Right Hand had then tried to take his Alpha spark and the rest of his pack, Deucalion had lost it.

It took him a long time to regain some semblance of sanity, but the hatred never went away. He became stronger, became the Demon Wolf, feared by hunters and wolves alike. Not by his pack. He had a small but loyal pack in Kali, Ennis, Ethan, Aiden and his Emissary Marin. That was all he needed, their strength and loyalty. And his revenge.

But Gerard Argent seemed to have disappeared off the surface of the Earth. Years, for years he had searched for the man while gathering more power. Until, finally, a month ago, news reached Deucalion that Gerard had resurfaced. In Beacon Hills, of all places. To attend his daughter's funeral and after that… he never left. Deucalion sent Marin ahead to keep an eye on the man. She started working at the high school where Gerard was now acting principal.

Once back in Beacon Hills – and oh how poetic, Deucalion was getting his revenge at the very place where he had been betrayed in the first place – it wasn't all too hard to pick up Gerard's scent. Especially since it was twisted and poisoned. Something had happened, something that delighted Deucalion to think about. Yet the man was still alive, even if he was suffering. And that, Deucalion was set to change. He was following his nose, his arm hooked with Marin's. Kali and Ennis were to his left and right, the twins coming in the rear.

"There's another scent," Kali growled, breathing deep.

Deucalion hummed. His senses were a little sharper than theirs, he'd picked it up a few minutes ago already. It was too enchanting though. Sweet like honey, so delicious Deucalion could nearly taste it on his tongue, the scent of prey that begged to be caught and eaten alive. Yet at the same time, Deucalion could smell the lightning on it too, like a storm brewing in the distance, a warning of the danger and raw power that was about to hit them, a predator on the prowl, not to be crossed.

"I'd like to see where this one leads. It smells… interesting," Deucalion replied.

"It smells powerful," Ennis grunted, breathing deep. "Dangerous."

"Yes," Deucalion smiled wickedly. "And it's been heading the same way as us for a while."

"So what? This Argent guy pissed someone else powerful off?" Ethan asked warily.

Again, Deucalion hummed. It appeared that way. The smell was trailing Gerard the same way the Alpha Pack was trailing him. They caught up to both scents in a nursing home, the scents in this place sterile and unbecoming. Deucalion focused on the scent of lightning and honey instead.

"This place is… sad," Aiden commented, distaste heavy in his voice.

Well, that cheered Deucalion up a little. Gerard got to spend his last days and moments in a sad nursing home, abandoned by everyone. Marin paused, and with her, Deucalion and the others. She opened a door, he could hear it and then he was overcome with the scents. Gerard, the rot of death clinging to him like tar, and this unknown person, drowning Deucalion in the scent of honey and making him feel like he was standing in the center of a lightning strike.

"It's a magic user, there's a circle of mountain ash around Gerard," Marin whispered. "And… he is a student of mine. Stiles. I was unaware that he had magic. This is… an interesting development."

The curiosity in her voice piqued Deucalion's interest even more. He flashed his eyes red to let him see this powerful boy. Gerard was sitting in a wheelchair, black goo running down his chin and nose. Weak and pathetic. Looming over him was a boy with long limbs, moles dotting his pretty face that was marred by a large bruise. He had turned away from Gerard upon their entrance, the widest doe-eyes staring at Deucalion in surprise, his lashes impossibly long. He was beautiful and truly the picture of his scent. Pretty as prey, yet with a hidden darkness and strength.

"Miss Morrell?" Stiles asked incredulously. "What."

His voice was near as sweet as his scent and Deucalion let it wash over him. This could be quite interesting. His instincts told him that the bruises on the beautiful boy were related to Gerard and the spicy note of anger and hatred in his scent. All these years of yearning for his revenge and when he would finally get it, there was another wanting their cut of meat. Faced with at least one Alpha – Deucalion's eyes were still flashing bright red – this boy did not look intimidated or frightened, he stood up straight and with his chin raised, holding Deucalion's gaze with beautiful defiance. Deucalion had never been one to share, yet this boy made him consider that perhaps, revenge wasn't just a dish best served cold, it was a dish served for two.

"Stiles," Deucalion tasted the name on his tongue, curious. "I'm Deucalion and it appears you have already met my Emissary, Marin. May I ask what brings you here?"

"I don't like lose ends," Stiles huffed, smelling amused. "I also don't like surprises."

"Please let me explain, Stiles," Marin sighed. "I'm a Druid. We work as advisers to packs. I came to Beacon Hills in that function, to… keep an eye on Gerard, for my Alpha."

A thoughtful hum. Deucalion could feel the boy's intense gaze on him and the air around them seemed to crackle with electricity. It made Deucalion's mouth water. The raw power beneath that boy's skin, brimming, ready to burst. Like it needed just that last push to ignite.

"So, what. Pack of werewolves are gonna strong-arm me to get my kill?"

My kill. Deucalion felt a thrill go through him at the boy's ruthlessness. An urge to keep the boy overcame him, want and desire pooling in the Alpha of Alphas. Such a little delight.

"Not strong-arm," Deucalion hummed, tilting his head. "Though I would like to know what makes you worthy of getting a cut of my kill. I've waited a long time for this."

"Well, this bastard's been threatening and hunting my pack for the better half of the school year, culminating in a light abduction for me and two of my pack-mates, followed by a couple hours of torture," Stiles' voice was casual, but his scent was pure electric danger. "I'm not a fan of being made a victim. And I don't tolerate people hurting those who are mine."

A new feeling overcame Deucalion. He'd never craved to be someone's. He wanted to possess, to own, to dominate. Never before had he felt the urge to be someone's, but the way this clearly powerful and dangerous magic user spoke, Deucalion found himself intrigued by a bond of equals.

"Why is he so quiet?" Deucalion asked instead. "I can hear his heartbeat race, but Gerard always wants to have the last word. He would not let us speak so idly."

"He's not gagged," Aiden supplied. "And his mouth is moving like crazy."

"Mh? Oh yeah, the prattling got annoying so I silenced him. Neat little trick I recently figured out I can do. Sound travels through the air, I can bend the air, so… I can stop soundwaves."

Stiles did something and the next moment, Gerard's voice grated on Deucalion's nerves with filth and insults and threats, before it suddenly cut off again. When he'd used his magic, the scent of lightning peaked like it finally hit and set the place aflame. Raw power.

"You're a Spark," Marin sounded surprised. "Your eyes. They glowed turquoise. Only Sparks…"

"Spark?" Stiles' voice was filled with surprise. "Deaton said something like that. So he actually knows what I am? But the bastard can't be bothered to help, huh."

Spark. Deucalion's eyes flashed at want. There were few creatures that rivaled a Spark in power. The danger and power he could sense on the boy, oh, it was so much more than expected. Finally someone powerful and ruthless enough to be Deucalion's equal.

"How about a deal, dear boy," Deucalion was near purring. "You share your kill with me and my Emissary will share her knowledge about what you are and your magic with you."

"Mh," Stiles seemed surprised and contemplative, tension thrumming in his scent. "In my experience, Alphas aren't big on sharing."

"You learn to, in a pack of Alphas," Ennis commented with a snort.

His pack mates behind him must have flashed their eyes if the soft gasp from Stiles was anything to go by. "Holy shit, that's a thing. How is that a thing. I need to know more."

The boy's hunger for knowledge was delightful. Knowledge was power and Deucalion had a feeling that Stiles knew that very well. Oh, Deucalion had never felt more of a need to have. With his most charming smile did Deucalion approach the boy, offering one arm.

"I don't share often, only with those I think are worthy of it."

"And I am? Me? I'm an awkward human teen. You're… an Alpha among Alphas."

"Dear boy," Deucalion's voice dropped. "You are so much more than human. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to start by taking from Gerard what he took from me."

"Uhm… Be my guest?" Stiles sounded unsure.

When Deucalion plunged his fingers into Gerard's eye-sockets, the boy yelped in surprise. Behind them, Deucalion could sense his pack settle in more comfortably, knowing they'd be here a while.

/break\

So Stiles spent the majority of his day torturing Gerard Argent with the help of perhaps the hottest man he had ever seen. Admittedly, a big part of the appeal was the ruthlessness and also the accent. The accent was doing things to Stiles. Part of him was glad Deucalion was so enthusiastic about the torture, because though Stiles had the mind for vengeance, he had never done too many acts of violence. At least none this severe. So the way Deuc took over there was somewhat appreciated.

"So… What do we do with the body?" Ethan asked, sounding near bored.

They had been here for hours now, after all. Two hours in, the twins – whose names Stiles had learned by then – had suggested they order in pizza. Which may be the most unhinged thing Stiles had ever heard. They were in the middle of a murder and they wanted to order in food. Then his stomach had growled and he'd agreed. It was wild, blood used to make him queasy, but somehow, the blood of the man who'd kidnapped and tortured him, Boyd and Erica? Stiles didn't mind.

But Gerard had already been pretty much on his last leg when Stiles found him, so it figured they couldn't drag this out forever. At one point, the old man kicked the bucket for good. Stiles was sprawled out on the bed on his stomach, with his arms crossed under his chin, the twins sitting behind him and Ennis seated against the headboard with Kali leaning against him. Marin had taken the armchair, a little farther away from the crime scene, so to speak.

Over the past five hours, Stiles had learned a lot about them. There was a limit to how long any of them could listen to Gerard's begging and wheezing before Stiles muted the man again and they had a lot of time to kill. A pack of Alphas whose packs had been killed or betrayed them, Marin the magic adviser to them (the same Deaton had been to the Hales and what the hell. The man had not once actually helped Derek, the only actual Hale, always rather following his own agenda).

"Get away from him, Deuc," Stiles requested as he sat up.

He felt warm and pleased when the Alpha of Alphas obeyed. With a snap of Stiles' fingers, the body caught fire. After controlling mountain ash with just a thought, he'd started testing his limits. So far, he had yet to find them. Anything that came from nature, he could manipulate. The elements bent to his will, the wind sang to him and the flames burned bright for him. The fire did not touch the furniture or the carpet, it only burned the body, the way Stiles asked it to.

"Last time I helped with a murder, the murdered party just… resurrected himself," Stiles wiggled his nose. "I came to accept it because I think I grew a little fond of the sarcastic bastard, but I'm not taking a risk with this one. I'll let him burn until there's only ash left."

"You are magnificent," Deucalion's voice was filled with so much desire and adoration.

It was weird to have that aimed at him. But then, to Deucalion, he wasn't Stiles, the lanky, awkward bench-warmer, the loudmouth kid who caused nothing but trouble. The way everyone in this hell town saw him. The thing nobody seemed able to look past. No, to Deucalion he was a powerful Spark, whatever that meant. And Stiles was very much looking forward to learning what that meant.

"What now?" Kali asked, her arms crossed as she peeked at the ashes.

"I don't know about you guys, but I could eat again," Stiles blinked. "Using magic burns energy."

Deucalion's smile had just a bit too much fang as he offered his arm. "It'd be my pleasure, darling."

Hopping off the bed, Stiles accepted the Alpha's arm and left the room with the Alpha Pack, left the ashes of Gerard behind. In a way, he knew he was leaving his past behind as he made a decision.

/one year later, La Iglesia\

Stiles had left Beacon Hills a year ago with Deuc's pack. Impulsive, reckless, but fuck it all. Fuck that town that had done nothing but hurt him. He was tired of being defenseless and only coming in second to Scott's love life. It was time Stiles came first. And he wanted to learn about his magic. He knew he never would with Deaton. Leaving his dad behind had hurt him the most, but he also knew his dad would be safer if Stiles wasn't around anymore. And he did stay in contact! Had a phone that couldn't be traced back. It took the sheriff months to accept, but in the end, he was just grateful that Stiles stayed in contact and that he was safe and happy.

He learned about his magic from Marin, learned how to fight from Kali and Ennis. He was no longer a defenseless human, he was a damn badass Spark who held his own at the side of the Demon Wolf. Nobody who came across their pack didn't tremble in fear and Stiles liked it. He liked how powerful he was, liked how respected and cherished he felt by Deuc, liked that his pack didn't judge him even when he was being a bit unhinged. If anything, they cheered him on.

They'd tracked down Kate Argent – because apparently nobody just stayed dead – and Stiles delighted in taking her apart for what she'd done to the Hales. Once he was done, he collapsed backward into Deuc's waiting arms, knowing his Demon Wolf always got him.

"You were magnificent as always, my love," Deuc whispered into his ear.

A pleased and lazy smile spread over Stiles' lips as he tilted his head enough to kiss the corner of Deuc's mouth. It was pretty hard not to fall for someone who supported him the way Deuc did, who always treated him as an equal and never underestimated him.

"Let's get pizza. And a shower," Stiles looked at their pack. "Okay, maybe the other way around."

The others, covered in blood and grime, chuckled, but followed their Alpha Mate's suggestion. Stiles grinned and left the scene of the crime with his mate and his pack. Off to the next adventure.

~*~ The End ~*~

Author's note: I warned y'all that I'd write a dozen "Deucalion rolls into town with A PLAN but then Stiles fully hijacks that" fics. I was. Very serious about that. It is my favorite flavor of Stalion. Deuc has a specific goal and then he just gets fully distracted by Stiles~