Mischief and Chaos Chapter 5: The Dreaming and the Waking, a teen wolf fanfic

Teen Wolf || Steter || Teen Wolf || Mischief and Chaos || Teen Wolf || Steter || Teen Wolf

Title: Mischief and Chaos – The Spark and the Void

Tags: m/m, canon divergence, Nogitsune Stiles, Spark Stiles, Pack Alpha Peter, True Mates, grief/mourning, hurt/comfort, fluff, explicit intercourse, oral, m/f

Main Pairing: Peter/Stiles

Side Pairings: Boyd/Erica, Jackson/Lydia, Chris/Sheriff

Teen Wolf Characters: Mieczysław 'Stiles' Stilinski, Peter Hale, Noah Stilinski, Chris Argent, Allison Argent, Jackson Whittemore, Lydia Martin, Danny Mahealani, Derek Hale, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd III, Claudia Stilinski, Vernon Boyd II, Anita Boyd, Alicia Boyd

Summary: Stiles' mom is dying and in an attempt to run away from it all, he ends up at a clearing with a cut-down tree that talks to him. He makes a deal with a dark fox to ease his mother's mind and gains a life-long companion for it. And then there's this new girl at school, Allison, who decides to be his friend. His life unfolds a little different from thereon out.

Mischief and Chaos

The Spark and the Void

Part 5: The Dreaming and the Waking

Everything was calm and quiet and perfect in his forest. The birds were singing their soft tune that always aligned perfectly with the songs of the flowers and trees, the wind whistled along. The sky above was blue and cloudy, but the fluffy, fun clouds where Stiles could guess shapes. The sun was bright and warm, peeking out behind the clouds. In the distance, he heard the gurgling of the river-

-There was something wrong, it should be cold. Freezing cold. The river wasn't gurgling, it was frozen solid. But not solid enough. A scream had pierced an otherwise serene day and chaos had taken over and-

And Stiles continued on to Nemy's clearing, smiling at his tree. A bunny crossed over, pausing for just a moment to look at him before it hopped off into the bushes. Before Stiles could sit down on the Nemeton, his attention was drawn to the root cellar doors. How peculiar.

He'd investigated those the second time he'd visited Nemy. And never since. Something about the root cellar made the hair at the back of Stiles' neck stand up and ever since Void had become a part of Stiles, he couldn't even go near them. The kitsune had a near visceral reaction to his former prison. Since Stiles hadn't liked the place before anyway, he simply ignored it.

Today though, on this sunny, sweet and serene summer day, something drew him to the root cellar and he couldn't quite tell what exactly, but something about the root cellar was different-

-Stiles couldn't tell what was wrong, but something was definitely wrong. He'd fought, the wind and the trees and the river, fought to bring something back, something important. What had it been? The fight had been so exhausting. He remembered cold and darkness and-

The sun blinded and warmed him, the gentle wind in his back urging him toward the root cellar. Opening the door, he climbed into it. How strange. Void would have loudly objected to just approaching it, much less opening the doors. As much as he loved open doors, these were ones he preferred closed. The fox never wanted to be locked in here again. There was no snarky voice in the back of Stiles' mind. There was no voice in the back of Stiles' mind at all.

Stiles paused in the entrance of the root cellar and frowned. Nemy always greeted him when he visited her. Void would have never kept quiet about entering this place. For the first time in four years, his mind seemed to be his own. And it unsettled him. He was alone-

-No, that was wrong. He hadn't been alone. The river. Snow. People. Laughter and then screams. Faces, shapes, vague people. Why couldn't he remember who they were? Why were they important? What had happened to them? What had happened to him? Why was he alone now, he wasn't supposed to be alone, he had been with people, important people, he was with-

There was a dark-haired boy sitting in the root cellar. He was about Stiles' age and sat leaning against Nemy's trunk with his legs drawn up against his chest. Stiles tilted his head curiously. Nobody but him and Ally came to the Nemeton-

-Ally. The people. The important people. Ally was one of his important people. Ally had been there. She had yelled at him, horrified, about his glowing eyes. Because he'd been using magic. But using magic in front of her was okay? She knew about his magic. Why had she yelled? There were others. The other important people. Who were they? They were important-

The boy was important. The moment he looked up at Stiles and their eyes met, the moment Stiles stared into those intense, ice-blue eyes, Stiles felt something snap into place. Something important. He shook his muddled thoughts off to focus on the important boy instead.

"Hello," Stiles waved a little and approached. "I'm Stiles. What are you doing here?"

The boy tilted his head at him. "I'm Peter. This is my spot."

Stiles snorted at the standoffish nature of the other boy and crossed his arms. "Well, Peter. This is also my spot. I just usually prefer to sit outside in the sun. And not in the creepy murder basement."

"Murder basement," Peter snorted this time and rolled his eyes. "You're dramatic. It's just an abandoned root cellar, you scaredy cat."

Stiles narrowed his eyes, annoyed by the rude, snarky boy. It wasn't his fault that there was a gigantic blood stain splashed over the roots of the… Stiles' facial expression slipped into confused surprise. Where was the giant blood stain? He knew there had been a giant blood stain there. Shaking his head before his thoughts would get all scattered and loud again, he decided to go and sit with the other boy. Peter smelt good, strangely familiar though Stiles couldn't place it. Like the forest ground after rain, rich and wild and free and his-

-His. Peter was his. That was why he smelt familiar, because Peter was his. Not this Peter though. His Peter was older, was unconscious, was in the hospital-

Oh. Stiles blinked with large eyes as the pieces finally fell into place.

"This isn't real, is it?" Stiles whispered softly, looking at Peter.

Peter looked back at him, reluctant now, guarded. "I don't think it is, no. I've been hiding here for… for a while. I don't know how long, but longer than I should be able to, I think. I should feel tired or hungry or thirsty, shouldn't I? But I don't."

The look on Stiles' face softened. "Do you remember what you're hiding from?"

He startled when screams echoed through his mind, the way Nemy or Void's voices usually would. Terrified, terrible screams of terror. Pain, fear and dread. The cacophony of screams and the crackling of flames was like a song of chaos and even without Void, Stiles found himself soaking it up, taking a deep breath. He felt stronger for it and the screams dampened.

"How did you do that?" Peter stared at him wide-eyed, looking around. "They're nearly always there. The screaming and the begging and the… the fire. Sometimes, they ease and I can relax."

Whenever Stiles and Void visited Peter and Void got to take Peter's pain and chaos. Stiles stared at the werewolf with unbearably soft eyes. This was where Peter had been this entire time? Hiding in his own mind, hiding from the trauma and pain.

"Why are you like ten years old?" Stiles asked.

"I'm twelve," Peter narrowed his eyes offended.

"But why," Stiles frowned. "You're supposed to be older than this."

That seemed to confuse Peter, but in the same way Stiles had been confused earlier. About something not being right but not understanding what or why it was wrong.

Stiles swallowed when he started to understand. He'd done his research on Peter and on the entire Hale family. Peter had been twelve years old when his father had died. He must have retreated to the time directly before it, the last time his family had been whole and happy and things had been good. The loss of his current pack had made him seek a time when things had been safe and when loss had been an abstract concept, hiding in the depth of his own memories.

"Never mind, I'm being silly," Stiles smiled brightly at Peter. "Tell me why you came here?"

Peter minutely relaxed at that, the same way Stiles had relaxed after accepting the fake forest outside and stopped questioning why things weren't quite right. He probably shouldn't enable this, he should probably figure out a way out of here, for them both. But this was the first real conversation he got to have with Peter, after over a year of sitting at his bedside and pleading with the wolf to open his eyes. He was too giddy, too greedy, to selfish to deny himself this.

"My mom showed me this place when I was little," Peter replied. "She is a druid, the Emissary of our pack. This used to be a sacred place to druids, before humans cut it down, but she said that there is still strong magic in it. I've… I've always felt drawn to it ever since."

"So you come here often?" Stiles wanted to know, scooting a little closer.

"Uhu," Peter nodded with a small grin. "Whenever my little brother gets too clingy or my big sister gets too bossy and annoying, or when there are chores that need evading."

The thought of his soulmate evading chores somehow made Stiles giggle. All he knew about Peter was from his research. He knew hard, dry facts; his birthday, where he went to school, where he went to college, he knew Peter had been a lawyer before the fire, knew the names of his siblings and parents and niblings. Static facts, with no emotions behind them. He didn't know what kind of person Peter was, or what kind of people Peter's family had been.

He hadn't known that Talia Hale was bossy and annoying, or that Aaron Hale was clingy. All he'd known were their names and birthdays, the names of their spouses and children.

It was tragic, in a near poetic way. Stiles loved facts. Loved his various research projects. Yet here? Where facts were all he had? He loathed them. He wanted the emotions, the nuance, the everything.

"So you don't like your siblings?" Stiles asked eagerly after a moment.

Peter made a face and leaned in, his voice dropping. "I love them to death, but do not tell them. Especially not Talia. She will be so—o smug and unbearable about it. She's the worst."

The laughter burst out of Stiles suddenly at the admission and as sudden was the deep sadness that overcame him. Talia and Aaron were dead. Peter had lost them forever. But this Peter hadn't, not yet. He'd retreated so deep into his mind to forget the loss. Stiles couldn't bring himself to force Peter to remember. If he could forget that his mom was dead and live in a world where she was still alive and happy, he would probably chose to do so too.

"I get it," Stiles nodded solemnly. "Well. Not fully. I have a big sister, but Ally is actually the best. She would never be unbearably smug about anything."

"Well, color me envious," Peter drawled with a grin. "Tell me about her?"

/break\

Allison was crying, again. She had been doing so much crying lately, there should be no tears left in her. She should be all dried up forever with how much she had cried in the past week.

Today, Danny, Jackson and Lydia were with her visiting Stiles. Yesterday, it had been Alicia, Boyd and Erica's turn. They always took turns. They had other obligations aside from sitting at Stiles' bedside, after all. Sometimes, only one of them would have time to come with her. But someone always did. Because Stiles had chosen a good, strong and loyal pack. He had made them. And now he had left them and that wasn't fair.

She glared viciously at the black fox that was curled together on Stiles' chest. Void tilted his head and held her gaze with his unsettling glowing eyes. She hadn't seen the fox in a year, not since the fire when he had emerged from Stiles' shadows to… to hunt down Allison's aunt.

While Allison understood that her aunt was a bad person, had laid the fire and trapped the Hale family and killed them, it was still unsettling to think of this creature that had hunted Kate down. Her and her dad had visited Kate at the hospital, directly after she'd been admitted, before they found all the evidence and knew what she had done. The vacant gaze and the state of her body had been a horrifying sight and Allison knew Void had done that. She knew what this creature was capable of.

"Why can't you wake him?" Allison asked, angry. "It isn't fair. You're powerful, you're supposed to protect him, but you didn't protect him and now he won't wake up and it's all your fault!"

"Allison, maybe stop yelling at the powerful demon," Danny requested softly.

The others were very unsettled by Void and maybe even afraid of him, to some degree, after Allison had explained it all. Retold them what Stiles had shared with her a year ago, about the Nemeton and the Spark and the kitsune. She had done her very best to explain everything in this past week and though still rattled and confused, the pack had come around to believe her. It was hard to deny when they had all witnessed Stiles raise the river to spit out Alicia while his eyes glowed a bright teal and when a black talking fox emerged from Stiles' shadows after he had collapsed.

"Let the girl yell," Void chirped and tilted his head. "Her chaos delights me."

Allison was shaking with anger. What had happened at the river a week ago had fed the demon so well, it had been able to materialize. Stiles had explained to her that he could only do that when he was like super-charged on chaos. Ever since, Allison was tasked with hiding the damn demon from their dads. Because Void couldn't go back in. Stiles had 'closed the door', whatever that meant.

"Stiles will be fine," Lydia tried to sound reassuring as she took Allison's hand. "Void said that he just over-exhausted himself and that he just… he just needs to recharge."

"He's been recharging for a week!" Allison's voice pitched in her anger. "Why won't he wake up?!"

Lydia pulled her into a hug, running her hands down Allison's spine in an attempt to sooth her. All it did was bring tears to Allison's eyes. Stiles was her brother, her best friend, he was her person. He wasn't allowed to leave her. It had been a week and her and Stiles had done their research on comas, because of Stiles' soulmate, and she knew that the longer he didn't wake up, the worse the chances that he would ever wake up again. What if he never woke up again? What if he left her?

"Is there anything we can do?" Jackson asked, looking at Void. "I mean, Allison's right. You're a demon, can't you do something? Or can we like I don't know perform some ritual or whatever?"

They were all still trying to wrap their hands around magic, and how it worked. Surely there should be something they could do to wake Stiles up. Void stared at them all in clear amusement.

"Lydia is the only one of you who is magically inclined, but she holds no power here," Void replied. "Stiles has drained his magic, more than ever before. It takes time to replenish. It is getting stronger, I can sense that through our bond, but he's not ready to wake up yet. Give him time, impatient kits."

Time. Time. Allison snarled, feeling even more angry now. A week was more than enough time! She wanted to do something, needed him to wake up. She should have protected him from this, somehow. If only they had watched Alicia more closely, she was the youngest after all. Or if they hadn't gone to the river, of course was it unsafe to skate there!

Void tilted his head intrigued, watching her closely, probably feeding on the chaos in her mind. Tears clung onto her lashes as she collapsed forward onto Stiles' bed, grabbing his hand.

"You need to wake up, this isn't fair, Stiles," Allison pleaded.

/break\

"Boys! Dinner is ready, you played enough!"

Stiles groaned in frustration and looked around. So he had gotten onto the tree. But how was he supposed to get down? The werewolf next to him just grinned impishly and jumped down with more grace than should be allowed, doing a perfect superhero landing.

"C'mon, just jump, Stiles," Peter told him, looking at him expectantly.

"I will land flat on my face and break both legs if I just jumped off a tree, Peter," Stiles argued.

Peter made a show of rolling his eyes, because Peter was incredibly rude, before he stepped closer and then stretched his arms out. "I'll catch you. Just jump."

Stiles stared at him dumbly. "I'm not jumping into your arms, you'll drop me."

"I'll not drop you, Stiles," Peter heaved an exasperated sigh. "I would never drop you."

"You say that now," Stiles argued. "And then I'll have two broken legs."

"I promise you that I'll catch you with my 'superior werewolf senses', as you like to call them."

A grin split Stiles' lips. Peter hated that phrasing, but it was totally true! Stiles had seen Peter run, jump, lift things he shouldn't be able to lift. He could also flash his eyes a bright golden-yellow and grow fangs and claws. Werewolves were so cool. And though all Hales were varying degrees of cool, Peter remained his favorite, regardless of how much time Stiles spent at the Hale House. However, he did think that Logan's eyes were the coolest. The Alpha red was just so awesome.

"If you drop me, you'll carry me to your mom so Dalia can fix me again with her druid healing magic stuff," Stiles demanded, eyeing the wolf carefully. "Also know that you will ne—ever live down Talia's teasing if you drop and break me. You know I'm her favorite."

"You're everyone's favorite, Stiles," Peter sighed. "Now jump down before dinner gets cold."

Closing his eyes tightly, Stiles jumped down from the tree. He grunted at the impact and when he opened his eyes again, he was looking right into Peter's piercing blue eyes, the wolf grinning at him and holding him securely pressed against Peter's chest.

"See?" Peter offered a smug look. "I caught you, as I promised. I'll always catch you, Stiles."

Stiles flushed furiously and then pushed against Peter's chest so the wolf would put him down. Peter obeyed with an eye-roll. Just because they were True Mates didn't mean Stiles would endure the insufferable wolf's teasing! Well, at least not all the time, anyway.

Urgh, it had been so embarrassing when Logan and Dalia had sat them down together to explain True Mates to them, after Peter first brought Stiles home to the Hale House. The two of them had met at the Nemeton nearly a year ago and Peter had then introduced Stiles to the pack. Ever since, Stiles and his family had practically become honorary members of the Hale Pack.

"C'mon, I'm starving," Stiles grinned and grabbed Peter's hand to pull him toward the house.

The backdoor of the Stilinski home still stood ajar where Claudia had stepped out to call for them before. The two rushed into the kitchen, where Noah heaved an exasperated sigh at them and ruffled both their hair before he went back to setting the table. Claudia turned away from the stove with a smile and knelt down so she could pepper Stiles' face with kisses, kissing each of his moles.

"Mo—om, not in front of Peter," Stiles hissed embarrassed.

Peter, the rude wolf, just cackled and went to help Noah set the table. Stiles huffed, wondering what he had done to deserve such a rude soulmate. And then Peter would look at him, with these unfathomably soft eyes, like Stiles was the best thing in the entire world, and maybe Stiles hadn't done too shabby in the soulmate department after all.

"Are you staying overnight, Peter?" Claudia asked while putting down a plate in front of the wolf.

"No," Peter sighed and rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Talia has this stupid recital at school and mom and dad are forcing us all to go to support her."

"Oh, we should go too, Noah," Claudia suggested excitedly. "It would be nice to have a night out and to support Talia and the pack."

Peter heaved a sigh and nudged Stiles. "Sorry for getting you dragged into this. I swear, big sisters are the worst. It's like the world rotates around them."

"No problem," Stiles laughed softly. "See, days like these, I am glad I'm an only child."

The look on Peter's face changed into something confused. "You have a sister."

Frowning, Stiles looked at his soulmate in equal confusion. "What are you talking about. You know my family. It's just me, mom and dad."

"No," Peter shook his head, though the motion was slow like he wasn't entirely sure either. "When we met, you told me about your big sister. Allison. Why have I never met her?"

Allison. The fork in Stiles' hand slipped and clattered to the floor. Dimples and dark hair. His best friend. The Nemeton that had been Stiles' alone place and then became their Stiles-and-Allison-place. The only one who knew about his magic. His sister.

Stiles' eyes widened and when he turned to look at his mom, they filled with tears.

His sister, because their dads were dating. Were happy and in love. Because their moms were dead. Because his mom was dead. His mom had died years ago, in a hospital bed.

"This isn't real, is it?" Stiles croaked out, his heart breaking.

"You said that," Peter whispered. "When we first met, you said that too. And you accused me of hiding. I was hiding from my annoying siblings, from… from…"

Screams and the crackling of flames filled Stiles' mind. His parents sat frozen at the table, like someone had paused a video. The flames became real, the house around them catching fire. Pure terror overtook Peter as he stared at the flames, as everything around them collapsed.

No, this wasn't real. Peter had retracted into the depth of his mind, a point in time where loss was just an abstract concept. And Stiles… Stiles had followed Peter into it, had embraced this world where he knew no loss, where his mom was still alive and happy. But it wasn't real.

"This isn't real, Peter," Stiles turned toward his soulmate, grabbing Peter's hand. "We have to wake up. This isn't real, we have to get back to the real world."

But Peter was still staring at the fire in fear. The damage it had done physically and mentally was too great still for Peter to let go of it just yet. He wasn't ready to let this go. Stiles' eyes filled with tears as he realized that, realized he would have to choose between the real world and his soulmate, even if just for now. But Stiles knew they would never get out if they both succumbed to the dreaming. At least one of them needed to be awake and fight for them both.

Leaping off the chair, he pulled Peter into the tightest hug. "I'll miss you. Please come back to me soon. I'll wait for you. I'll always wait for you, Peter."

Tears running down his face, Stiles pressed a daring kiss to Peter's cheek.

Stiles in Peter's arms vanished and with him the flames. Left behind was only a confused Peter, who wasn't entirely sure where he was or why he was here. He should be getting ready for Talia's recital. His hand clenched on nothing, like… like there was another hand he was supposed to hold. Shaking his head, he left the house to head back home, feeling like something was missing.

/break\

Losing Claudia had nearly broken Noah and it had taken Chris forcing his way into Noah's life to keep him together. The man had become a grounding presence, a pillar, who helped Noah find a new stability. And out of the broken pieces, they had built something beautiful together. But losing Stiles? Losing Stiles was something Noah wouldn't be able to survive, not even with Chris and Ally, regardless of how fiercely he loved them. If he lost Stiles, he was going to break.

"Please, Mietek, you have to wake up," Noah plead with his son for the hundredth time.

He was holding Stiles' hand up to his face, kissing his fingers, trying to will the boy to open his eyes. Ten days. He hadn't opened his eyes in ten days now. And Noah still didn't understand what had even happened, how this had happened.

The children had gone into the preserve to ice-skate. Stiles and Ally had been so excited about it. The next thing he knew was that him and Chris got disturbed in the middle of using this rare Sunday afternoon without kids for some well-deserved alone time by a call from the hospital.

Alicia had broken into the ice, got treated for hypothermia, and Stiles was… unresponsive. Nobody could tell Noah what was wrong with his son, not the children who'd been there, nor the doctors.

The kids had been too traumatized to talk at all, shock written all over their faces. Allison was the only one who managed to string together words, explain what had happened to Alicia, but even she couldn't tell them what had happened to Stiles. He'd collapsed with a nosebleed and that was it.

The doctors had done every test imaginable, but nothing yielded results. For ten days, Stiles had been in a coma. For ten days, Noah had sat at his hospital bed every single day.

Chris took care of Noah, forcing the man to come home with him and Ally in the evening, forcing him to eat and sleep. He also took care of Allison, making sure their daughter went to school, was fed and not left alone. Noah tried, he hugged her, held her while they both cried, listened to her when she half-heartedly told him something about school, but she wasn't fully there either, was as much going through the motions as Noah was. If not for Chris, the both of them would simply sit at Stiles' hospital bed all day long, staring at the boy to will him back into wakefulness.

"You never explained that," Chris spoke softly. "The name."

Noah looked up at his lover, saw gentle, blue eyes stare at him so lovingly. He swallowed hard and leaned forward, resting his forehead against Chris' shoulder. The other man wrapped his arms around him, holding him, grounding him.

"It's a Polish diminutive for his name," Noah whispered. "Mieczysław. He always hated his name. I always hated his name. Claudia and her big doe-eyes, 'Oh, Nonek, let's name our baby after my father, he would be so honored!', and I said yes before even thinking about it…"

Noah snorted as he remembered the conversation and his wife's convincing doe-eyes. He relaxed against Chris, tilting his head so it was still resting on Chris' shoulder but he could look at Stiles.

"We used to call him Mietek when he was little," Noah continued. "Claudia started calling him Mischief when he got into increasingly more and more trouble. But he only started going by Stiles when he started school."

Chris hummed, his fingers carding through Noah's hair, scratching his scalp in a pleasant way. For some calm, long moments did the two of them just sit there, watching Stiles. Allison had fallen asleep an hour ago, curled together at the foot end of Stiles' bed. They should go home. She deserved to sleep in her own bed. But it was so hard, to leave Stiles here, all alone. Stiles deserved to sleep in his own bed too.

"Ally!" Stiles screamed, voice cracking from disuse as he shot upright in the bed.

His eyes were wide open and wild. The shout had jolted Allison awake and the girl blinked blearily and confused, until she realized what had happened. Both Chris and Noah stared in blank surprise at their son. Ten days of coma and he just… woke up yelling Allison's name.

"Stiles," Allison gasped and scrambled up to hug him. "You can't do that! You can't just be in a coma! You can't leave me like that! Never do that again!"

Stiles collapsed into her arms and started sobbing. Heartbreaking sobs. Careful, with shaking hands as though he feared this was a dream, did Noah reach out for his son. Stiles and Allison turned toward him and the next moment, Chris and Noah joined the children's hug.

"You're awake," Noah took a shaky breath. "I love you kiddo, I was so worried about you."

"I'm sorry," Stiles continued sobbing. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

/break\

"We have to tell them the truth, Stiles," Allison frowned concerned.

Stiles had barely spoken a word since he woke up yesterday. The entire pack had crammed into his hospital room to hug him and chide him (that one was mostly Lydia). It was a relief to Stiles that Allison had explained everything, because he really wasn't up for it yet. He was also still in the hospital, the doctors trying to figure out how he had woken up.

When he wasn't being prodded by doctors, he sat next to Peter. She was fairly sure Stiles didn't even blink when he sat here, staring at his soulmate. Like his body had forgotten how to blink or got scared that his eyes wouldn't open again if he did.

"You told them," Stiles pointed out, not looking away from Peter.

"I mean our dads," Allison pressed. "The only reason they didn't sign you out of the hospital to take you home with them is because they are freaked out about what happened too and want to know. I've been evading them the entire time, but they need to know the truth."

Stiles tensed but she still didn't get his full attention. It felt like he was somewhere very far away. She sighed and hunched over a little. He had been so weird since he woke up. He'd cried for three hours and then, according to the nurses this morning, snuck out of his room, most likely to sit right here. It was like he was obsessed with Peter, the way he had been in the first few weeks after the fire. It had eased some over the following months, got more healthy in how Stiles divided his focus. Now? Now it was like nothing else mattered to him.

"Why won't you wake up?" Stiles asked, a devastated look on his face.

"Stiles…" Allison trailed off, unsure what she would even say to him.

"He has to wake up," Stiles finally looked up, looked at her, with tears in his eyes. "I saw him, I talked to him, and he is… he is still in there, I know he is. He just has to wake up!"

"What do you mean you talked to him," Allison blinked surprised.

"Do you know what a void is?" Stiles asked softly. "It's not just darkness, it's space, it's illusions, it's dreams. I am a void kitsune. I can shape and control my own dreams, but… but apparently, while we were both in a coma, I managed to… We had a shared dream space. He was in there, with me. And I got to talk to him, got to know him, and his family. Or at least the versions of them that live in Peter's mind, his memories of them. I want it back. I want him back."

Allison looked at him with concern and compassion, before she pulled him into a hug. They definitely had to tell their dads the truth. To explain Stiles' coma and to explain Stiles' current state of mind. Because she doubted that they'd be able to make him stop visiting Peter any time soon, not even for a day. He'd need time again, daily sneaking in. But Noah and Chris were concerned about him, they'd want to keep an eye on him.

/break\

"This is insane," Noah's voice was a rattled whisper. "All of this is insane."

"Perhaps, a little bit," Void cackled in delight. "But it is also all very real."

Chris put himself between Noah and the dark kitsune. A void kitsune. A void kitsune who was possessing their son. Stiles and Allison sat at the sickbed of Peter Hale, the only survivor of the fire that Kate had laid a year ago. Because the Hales were werewolves, that was why she had laid the fire, he knew that. But this particular werewolf? Stiles was, apparently, his True Mate.

Stiles was also a Spark. Something so rare, even the Argents had thought them myths. Which would explain why Stiles was still in so much control, even with a void kitsune in his mind. They cohabited, apparently. Willingly. Invited in when Claudia's sickness got worse.

For the past two hours, the children had explained it all to Chris and Noah. At first, it had sounded like a tall tale to the sheriff, but when a black fox emerged from Stiles' shadow and started chiming in with commentary himself, Noah shut up and listened.

"Noah," Chris' voice was soft as he took his lover's hand. "It's… true. I… There is something about me, about my family, that I haven't told you yet."

"What?" Allison's head snapped up and she stared wide-eyed at her dad.

He winced and positioned himself so he could look at his whole family. "Before… No, even when we moved here, I was a… werewolf hunter. The Argents have hunted werewolves and other creatures that were a threat to human for centuries. I only… I retired, when Kate… when Kate did what she did. Because we hunt threats. And she burned an entire family alive, including children. We do not kill innocent. It's not what… I wanted a fresh start, with you, leave this life behind."

"I'm a hunter?" Allison's eyes widened even more. "Like Buffy?"

For the first time since he woke up from his coma, there was a spark in Stiles' eyes again as he looked up. "Can I be your Giles then? Or am I your Willow? Or can I be both?"

"You are both too young for this show, I thought I told you you can't watch that," Noah stared sternly at them both before pausing. "You are all serious about this? Hunters, magic, werewolves? And this… this grown man is supposed to be Stiles' soulmate?"

Chris winced at that. Yes, these news would most likely go over better with Noah if Stiles' True Mate wasn't a middle-aged man. In a coma. A coma Chris' sister had put him into. Well, family dinners were going to be damn awkward if the man ever woke up.

Chris' eyes softened as he looked at Stiles. "And you can really feel the bond?"

The boy nodded, his own eyes hardening. "I knew it, when I looked at him, I knew that he was mine. And when I was in the coma, I… I was visiting his dreams? I got to meet him."

Noah heaved the deepest sigh and slumped down into a chair. "Kiddo, this is… this is a lot…"

He shot Chris a pointed look to convey that they would be having more words too, which was fair. Chris never wanted to tell Noah, he had wanted to leave it all behind. Victoria was dead, Kate was catatonic, Gerard had… disappeared, shortly after the fire. Chris' eyes met Void's and he suddenly had a good hunch what might have happened to his father. The Argent Empire was gone, Chris and Ally were all that was left. He thought they could have a normal life now, with Noah and Stiles.

He looked at the children, sitting next to the bed of a comatose werewolf, with a void kitsune curled on top of his chest. He supposed this was as close to normal as things were going to get for them.

"We still love you, Stiles," Chris spoke firmly, pulling the boy in to kiss the top of his head. "Give your dad some time to digest it all. I'll show him more at home, show him my books. I should… show them to you too, I suppose."

"I know your secret library," Stiles stared up at him with those big eyes of his. "Ally and I have been raiding it for months for our research. I just assumed you had really good books, I didn't…"

Chris grunted out a laugh. Of course. He shook his head and hugged Stiles a little tighter.

"My son is a fox and my daughter and my boyfriend are Slayers," Noah muttered, rubbing his face.

"Hunters," Chris corrected amused. "And I am retired."

Noah grunted and waved a hand around in a 'Does it make a difference?' gesture. Allison looked far too giddy for Chris' liking. He had hoped he'd never have to tell her about their family legacy, since she wouldn't have to grow up to become a hunter. But he supposed that she had made her choice already, without him. Maybe not to become a hunter, in their family's definition, but a protector.

The kids kept referring to their friend group as a 'pack', he had thought they were just being cute with it. But since Stiles' soulmate was a werewolf, Stiles had apparently decided to become Alpha of his own pack. Chris was now part of a pack, against his will. That was going to be… interesting.

Author's note: This chapter was a lot of fun to write! Childhood sweethearts Steter! Because I was starting to feel awkward about how fucking long it'd take for them to interact in this fic, so I figured coma loophole! :D

Next up, we ARE gonna timeskip ahead though and finally wake Peter up from his coma! Steter is a go from hereon out!