The Alpha Pack's Spark, a teen wolf fanfic

Teen Wolf || Stetalion || Teen Wolf || The Alpha Pack's Spark || Teen Wolf || Stetalion || Teen Wolf

Title: The Alpha Pack's Spark – And the Spark's Wolves

Tags: m/m/m, polyamory, alpha/beta/omega dynamics, Magic Council AU, Erica Lives, Boyd Lives, Jackson Doesn't Leave, Pack Alpha Peter, Pack Mom Stiles, Spark Stiles, PTSD, hurt/comfort, fluff, courting, nesting, explicit intercourse, anal, oral, knotting, f/f, m/f

Main Pairing: Deucalion/Peter/Stiles

Side Pairings: Boyd/Erica, Ethan/Danny, Jackson/Lydia, Braeden/Marin, Ennis/Kali

Teen Wolf Characters: Mieczysław 'Stiles' Stilinski, Peter Hale, Deucalion Blackwood, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd, Ethan, Aiden, Kali, Ennis, Marin Morrell, Braeden, Sheriff Stilinski, Derek Hale, Cora Hale, Isaac Lahey, Jackson Whittemore, Lydia Martin, Scott McCall, Danny Mahealani

Summary: Deucalion and his pack come to Beacon Hills when they hear of Peter's death. By the time they arrive, Peter is freshly resurrected and ready to present Deuc with the perfect addition to their matebond and their pack: Stiles. Stiles, recently tortured by Gerard, accepts the help, mostly to satisfy his curiosity on how an Alpha Pack works. Deucalion is getting more than he bargained for.

The Alpha Pack's Spark

And the Spark's Wolves

Chapter 1: Why do they matter?

Peter's mate was in town. He'd caught Deucalion's scent on their way to the warehouse. And not just Deucalion, either. Ennis, Kali, Marin. Deucalion had brought his whole pack. Giddiness filled him in a way he hadn't felt in too many years. Six years. Well, more like seven now. What with Peter's short stint of insanity and consequent death. But he was here now and so was Deuc.

He couldn't wait to see his mate again and part of him had wanted to ditch Derek and Derek's pup to see Deucalion right away. But things with Derek were already rocky enough as was, between Peter killing Laura and Derek killing Peter, and now with most of his sanity restored after his resurrection, Peter… He wasn't quite seeking forgiveness, because he still saw himself as justified for killing the Alpha who had abandoned him and who thus was a foreign threat invading his territory. But he would also prefer not to lose what little family he had left. He sought to rekindle things with Derek. Besides, that evolved kanima form had put the fear of the gods even in Peter so if he could help prevent that from happening, he was willing to do so.

Still, the thought that Deucalion was here, had come here, with his entire pack. As soon as this kanima business was concluded, Peter would track down his mate's scent and reunite with him.

In the last minute of taking care of said kanima business did a blue Jeep come crashing through the warehouse wall and out stumbled Lydia to save the day with a disgustingly over the top declaration of true love that managed to tie the boy back to his humanity. Or rather, anchor him in werewolf hood. He gave an impressive first growl, before collapsing into Lydia's arms.

A surprising twist of betrayal had been served up by Scott. Honestly, Peter hadn't thought that boy had it in him. He used Derek's body against the Alpha's will to bite Gerard, after having poisoned the man apparently. The resulting bite rejection was a gross affair to watch but was overshadowed by Scott's declaration that Derek had never been his Alpha. So the boy had joined the pack under false pretenses, just so he could use Derek. Peter was both disgusted and impressed, because that level of ruthlessness and disregard for another person's bodily autonomy felt quite untypical for the boy who'd been crying about the fact that Peter turned him against his will.

Gerard slithered away into the night, Chris grabbed his homicidal daughter and left with her, Scott predictably trailed after her, Derek gathered his pup and left, with Lydia the now former kanima following them, seeking out the Alpha and the pack for the newest werewolf in Beacon Hills.

If not for the only other person left in the warehouse, Peter would already be well on his way too.

Slumped against the site of the Jeep sat its owner. Stiles' knees were pulled up against his chest, his arms resting on his knees and his head tilted forward, covering his face. But Peter had gotten a good look earlier already. Bruised and scratched up, his lip split. He reeked of pain and Gerard Argent.

Peter remained in the shadows, watching Stiles closely. Waiting to see what the boy would do. Waiting to see if anybody would return for him. Derek might be a bit too occupied with his newest trauma, licking the wounds of Scott's betrayal and the new wolf. Lydia certainly had other matters – a different boy – on her mind now. But Scott? Well, Peter supposed he shouldn't be too surprised that that boy prioritized the Argent girl over anything else, including Stiles.

Inhaling deeply, Peter smelt past the pain and the stench of Gerard clinging to the clever boy. His nostrils flared as Stiles' real scent hit him. The omega had the sweetest honey scent, spiced with something electrifying, similar to an oncoming thunderstorm, like lightning in the air.

It was a thrilling scent and Peter could tell that Stiles was something, though he wasn't sure what. That was why he'd offered the bite, thinking it could draw that potential out, and it was part of the reason why he had accepted the rejection. Whatever Stiles was, he was powerful and forcing him, drawing his wrath, would be a bad idea. Besides that, even half-feral, he couldn't harm Stiles. No instinct was stronger for a wolf than that to protect their mate and his wolf saw Stiles as his.

Judging by the intensity of Stiles' scent, Peter had a feeling whatever he was, it was coming out on its own. The oncoming storm was approaching and the lightning in the air was tantalizing. It smelt of danger and power. Peter had wanted the boy before, but now he simply had to have him.

A pleased grin spread over his lips at the thought of Deucalion. Now that his alpha was finally in town, it was time for Peter to introduce him to their potential omega. The thought made Peter's wolf purr. Stiles was perfect for them both, Peter just knew it. And he knew once Deuc met Stiles, he would see that too. Deucalion had always liked power as much as Peter and he had always valued a clever mind over brute force. Stiles' quick wit and strategic thinking were going to appeal to Deucalion as much as they appealed to Peter. Powerful, pretty, ruthless, clever. He was perfect.

"Hello, Stiles," Peter smiled, foreboding and charming at the same time.

The boy just heaved a sigh. "Why aren't you dead. Or am I having a concussion and you're a hallucination? In which case, can I have a different hallucination? Shirtless Hugh Jackman, maybe."

Peter snorted amused and shook his head. "Not a hallucination, just back from the dead. Death didn't suit me, I still have a lot of things to do, darling. People to kill, vengeance to enact."

"If you're here to kill me for killing you, at least make it quick," Stiles requested tired.

Peter knelt down next to the boy and gently forced his head up so the omega was looking up at him. Well, that was quite the charming view. Those big doe-eyes staring up at him like that, long lashes fluttering. Peter's thumb gently caressed his cheek, outlining the scrapes on it.

"I'm not going to harm you, sweetheart," Peter murmured. "It seems like someone else has done more than enough damage already."

He let black veins crawl up his arm, draining Stiles' pain. The boy gave the sweetest little whimper in relief, sagging forward against Peter as though his pain had been the only tension keeping his body upright. Peter gladly caught him, pulling Stiles against his chest. He squeezed Stiles' neck, letting his touch linger so his scent would linger too, before he very slowly and deliberately ran his hand down Stiles' spine, drawing the boy closer, scent-marking him even more.

"Let me bring you somewhere safe," Peter requested softly.

He didn't do soft. The only people he had ever been soft with had been his niblings when they were children and Deuc. His nose brushed against Stiles' hair, noting that it was considerably longer than the last time he'd seen his boy. He wanted Stiles to be soft with him, wanted the omega to feel safe enough with him to relax, to not always be defensive and bare his teeth. For that, Peter supposed, he had to give a certain degree of softness too.

"Why," Stiles asked baffled.

"I told you before, I like you, Stiles," Peter chuckled lightly.

"I helped kill you, Peter," Stiles argued. "You have a stellar track-record of killing the people who wronged you. Aiding in your murder feels like it qualifies."

Peter ran his finger along Stiles' jaw to tilt the boy's head back. His eyes were drawn to that tempting stretch of pale neck that this action bared, before he made eye-contact with Stiles. Those eyes were just too pretty, like rich honey, perfectly reflecting the omega's delicious scent.

"You are a ruthless little thing," Peter agreed lightly. "I find that charming in you. You killed me because I went after the people you care about. You protect your pack fiercely and violently. Just like I did. I can't fault you for a character trait we share, darling."

Big doe-eyes blinked up at him curiously at that, like Stiles genuinely hadn't seen that coming. But it was the truth. And this time, Stiles didn't argue that he didn't want to be like Peter.

Peter had been charmed by the boy even before that, but when Stiles had looked him in the eyes and set him on fire, Peter might have lost his heart to the omega. And yes, he was aware how twisted that was. Yet it was the truth. Stiles had killed him because Peter had turned Scott, kept dragging Scott into this all even after Stiles asked – demanded, really – for Peter to leave him out of it and then Peter had bitten Lydia, to draw out her banshee powers. Stiles hadn't killed him for his revenge against the Argents, he had done it to protect those he considered pack. And that was something Peter, as a former Left Hand, could respect. Admire, even. So young and already so ruthless.

"There's something just so—o wrong with you," Stiles muttered and shook his head.

Peter chuckled. "Now that we established that I won't kill you, can I bring you somewhere safe?"

"Why," Stiles narrowed his eyes at Peter. "Seriously, there's a difference between not holding my part in killing you against me and actively going out of your way to help me when… when…"

"When nobody else does?" Peter supplied, watching the boy flinch. "They all just left, didn't they?"

Stiles ground his teeth together and raised his chin at Peter. Peter loved that look on Stiles, the fierce determination, the fight. Better than the slumped over boy who looked like he had given up.

"They got their own shit to deal with," Stiles grumbled weakly. "I can handle myself."

"I'm sure of it, darling. I didn't mean you couldn't. I mean you don't have to. Let me help you."

"Why," Stiles repeated, getting off the ground with some difficulty. "Why do you care."

He caught Stiles' arm and hauled him up the last bit. He didn't let go after, instead draining some more pain where he was touching bare skin. Stiles' gaze was wary.

"I told you Stiles," Peter let sincerity bleed into his voice. "I like you."

"You know, if you keep saying that, an unmated omega might get the wrong idea," Stiles snorted sarcastically. "Fine, fine, you 'like' me, Creeperwolf. I'll get the truth out of you at one point but I don't have the energy for this cryptic shit right now."

Peter simply raised his eyebrows at him with an amused smile. "Hand over your keys willingly or I will take them, darling."

"I also don't have the energy to drive," Stiles sighed and dug his keys out. "Careful, she-"

"Grinds in second, I remember," Peter smiled fondly and steered Stiles to the passenger side.

Stiles blinked surprised at him as he climbed into the Jeep. "We're going to the Argents."

"Revenge first," Peter growled pleased. "Wonderful."

"We have to get Boyd and Erica out of there," Stiles' face darkened and the scent of lightning thickened so much Peter could hear figurative thunder roaring in his mind. "Gerard still has them."

For a moment, Peter tilted his head. Those must be the two pups who ran away from Derek. He'd thought that'd be the last he heard of those, out of sight, out of mind. As long as Derek still had enough Betas to constitute a proper pack, Peter hadn't cared. And then he caught Deucalion's scent and stopped caring altogether. May Derek do whatever he sees fit with his pack. Yes, he would prefer not to see Derek go feral, but he couldn't find it in himself to feel responsible for this pack. Derek had chosen to rip Peter's throat out to get the Alpha spark from him so Derek had to deal with the pack responsibilities that came with it.

"Why did he do that to you?" Peter asked, looking at Stiles. "You're not a wolf. I understand why he captured the Betas, they're wolves. You're not."

"I was a message," Stiles sneered. "Grandpa Argent isn't a fan of his granddaughter dating a werewolf. And since Scott didn't take 'stay away from the family of werewolf hunters' seriously, this was meant to let Scott know that there are consequences to his actions. It appears the message has not been received, all things considered."

Stiles turned away to stare out the window, his fist balled. There was beautiful rage bubbling just under the surface. Peter felt eager to see it boil over. He'd experienced firsthand what that rage could do, after all, and he was dying to see it aimed at their shared enemies. Well, dying was perhaps poorly phrased in this particular context, Peter mused.

/break\

It was unsettling how quiet Stiles was during the drive to the Argent home. He kept staring out the window with a deep glare on his face. That glare hardened when the two of them made their way into the empty basement. Peter saw the aftermath of what had happened down here. The rigged wiring where the two wolves must have been strung up and incapacitated. Blood on the floor.

Peter looked at Stiles with curious intensity as he tried to figure out just how important this was to him. How important they were to him. All Peter wanted to do was grab his clever boy and head to Deucalion's, present his mate with their perfect mate-to-be and tend to Stiles' injuries until he was all healed up. A hunt for two wolves who had run away wasn't on his evening agenda.

"Why do they matter?" Peter asked plainly.

"I don't… know," Stiles wavered, looking frustrated. "We fought against each other in the past. We weren't friends before any of this. But down here, maybe even before this, after Scott and I joined Derek's pack, somehow, I started feeling… protective of them. And we were down here together, they were… being tortured by Gerard too. We… I need to know they made it out alive."

"Do you want me to find them?" Peter offered after some consideration.

Because that answer was good enough for Peter. Stiles may not understand it yet, may not feel it the same way because he wasn't a wolf, but Stiles seemed to consider these two pack. If Peter wanted Stiles, he'd have to accommodate them too, then.

"Why?" Stiles frowned at him. "Why are you helping me?"

All Peter offered him was an enigmatic smile. If his clever boy refused to put it together for now, Peter wasn't going to force the issue. He wanted Stiles' injuries tended to and he wanted the omega safe and he definitely needed to talk to Deucalion, before he could voice his intend to Stiles.

"How about, for now, you accept that I'm the only one you got?" Peter suggested lightly.

There was grief and frustration in those pretty honey eyes before resignation set in. It made Peter want to hunt McCall for sport. How could one possibly have this wonderful omega's loyalty and take it for granted like that? Breathing deep to calm himself and catch the Betas' scent, Peter grabbed Stiles by the hand. He pulled the boy along as he followed the trail, upstairs, out of the house and behind it into the woods.

"Let's find your wayward Betas, darling," Peter offered him a smirk.

"They aren't my Betas," Stiles snorted softly. "I'm not a werewolf and definitely not an Alpha. Hell, not even an alpha. Fairly sure being an alpha is like a requirement for being the Alpha, isn't it?"

"The Alpha usually yes, an Alpha, no," Peter shrugged and led the way back upstairs.

"What," Stiles blinked confused. "Wait, what. What's the distinction you just made? Isn't it already confusing enough that you wolves use Alpha and Beta as terms for pack! Presenting as an alpha versus being Pack Alpha and presenting as a beta versus being Pack Beta is already stupid, but now what, there's different forms of Pack Alphas?"

Peter's smile turned amused at his boy's frustration. "There's the Alpha Mate role in a pack, darling. A pack Beta can rise into Alphahood through the mate-bite from a pack Alpha, making them the Alpha Mate. Not the primary Alpha of the pack, but the Alpha's equal and co-leader anyway. It doesn't matter if that Alpha Mate is a born alpha, beta or omega – most traditionally, it would be an omega like yourself, but with how rare omegas are, most packs are led by alpha pairs."

"Guess I didn't really see the Alpha Mate as being an Alpha," Stiles hummed and nodded. "I read some about that when I read about Pack Moms."

"You… Why and how did you…" Peter blinked surprised, his steps stumbling just a little.

He might have been envisioning the perfect pack, Deucalion their strong Alpha, himself finally getting to claim his role as the Blackwood Pack's Alpha Mate and Stiles at their side, Alpha Mate and Pack Mom and absolutely magnificent.

"Stole Gerard's bestiary," Stiles shrugged. "It mostly talks about them in a derogatory way, but I wanted to learn more about an omega's role in a pack. I got curious. Omegas may be incredibly rare nowadays, but back in the day, packs used to be led by a mated Alpha Pair that, traditionally, consisted of an alpha and an omega. While the alpha in that relationship was the physical protector of the pack, the omega was an emotional anchor to the pack. I guess it makes sense, with more traditional packs being familial like the Hale Pack before the fire, where the Alpha Pair were usually the mother and father of said family. The Alpha Mate, the mom, the Pack Mom."

"Yes," Peter smiled bemused, pleased by his omega's hunger for knowledge. "With less traditional pack dynamics, the terminology shifted. Not every Pack Mom is the Alpha Mate, not every Alpha Mate is Pack Mom, so the terms split and the emotional anchor got kind of stuck with the Pack Mom title. A pack led by a mated pair of alphas might not have a Pack Mom at all."

Stiles hummed and nodded, always so attentive when it came to learning new things. Peter wanted to buy that boy every book he could ever desire. And Peter just knew, deep down, that Deuc would find Stiles' mind as enthralling as Peter did.

"There's also packs of Alphas," Peter offered casually while leading them deeper into the woods.

"There is what now?!" Stiles stumbled a little, just to be caught by Peter.

Smirking, Peter helped Stiles upright again. "Not every Alpha leads a pack. If you want to know more, you'll have to let me bring you to a safe place after this and I'll answer your questions."

Stiles narrowed his eyes at Peter. After all, Peter was planning on bringing Stiles before an Alpha Pack (was going to make the boy join an Alpha Pack). For that, he should perhaps prepare the omega a little. But only a little, if he gave away everything now, Stiles wouldn't have motivation to follow him later. No, the intricacies of the Magic Council and its Alpha Packs, Peter would only explain to his clever boy once they were in the safety of Peter and Deuc's den.

"Conditions," Stiles glared. "How dare you use my desire for knowledge against me, Zombiewolf."

Peter sputtered indignantly at the name, but before he could protest it did he catch the sounds and scents of the two wolves they were searching. He instinctively put himself between Stiles and the wolves. After all, Peter didn't know them, even if Stiles may trust them. Two teenagers approached them, a tall, dark-skinned boy with an arm around the waist of a short blonde girl. Both looked at Stiles in disbelief and with relief. Stiles walked over to them and once they were in touching range, the three collapsed into each other's arms.

"C'mon guys, Peter says he knows a safe place," Stiles sighed exhausted. "Let's get out of here."

Author's note: Ngl, when I started writing this, I wondered how good of an idea it is to have two ongoing multichapter fics set after the basement. But I think I am distinguishing between them well enough to not confuse myself or you guys. So! Have more basement trauma! Next chapter, we're gonna meet Deuc and Peter is gonna present Stiles with a figurative bow on his head as a present to his mate. I'll also explain how Deuc fits into Peter's past, particularly the coma, don't worry about it, just stay tuned ;D