Protecting Pack, a teen wolf fanfic

Teen Wolf || Steter || Teen Wolf || Steter || Protecting Pack || Steter || Teen Wolf || Steter || Teen Wolf

Title: Protecting Pack – The Alpha and his Left Hand

Tags: m/m, Erica Lives, Boyd Lives, Pack Alpha Stiles, Pack Feels, hurt/comfort, fluff, m/f

Main Pairing: Peter/Stiles

Side Pairing: Boyd/Erica

Teen Wolf Characters: Mieczysław 'Stiles' Stilinski, Peter Hale, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd

Summary: Peter had always been fascinated by the clever boy, the human who ran with wolves. When he decides to tag along with Stiles after the warehouse, to go and track down the two missing now former Hale Pack betas, Peter realizes Stiles doesn't just run with wolves. He leads them.

Protecting Pack

The Alpha and his Left Hand

Stiles wasn't sure why Peter Hale was driving him around. He wasn't sure why Peter hadn't killed him. Hell, he wasn't sure why or how Peter was even alive. The last Stiles had seen of Peter had been how they set the man on fire, when Derek had ripped his throat out. And now, suddenly, Peter was back alive, had been at the warehouse with everyone else. But unlike everyone else, he stuck around, waited, watched Stiles. And when Stiles got up to leave, Peter snatched his keys, got in the driver's seat and just drove Stiles where the boy demanded. They drove in silence for the most part, until they reached the Argent house. They snuck in easy enough, all the hunters were still out. But the basement was empty. Stiles' nails dug into his palms from how tightly he was clenching his fists. They were gone. Boyd and Erica were gone. Were they dead? Were the other hunters out disposing of the bodies? His breath hitched as panic rose in him.

"Darling," Peter's voice was urgent and his touch was gentle. "Talk to me."

"They're gone," Stiles forced out. "What if they're dead."

Peter regarded him for a long moment, gaze calculating. Like he was trying to determine how important this was to Stiles. Stiles didn't know how to communicate that it was. He didn't even fully understand why it was important to him. He'd tried to free them, had stepped between them and Gerard and deliberately drawn the man's anger. Boyd and Erica kept struggling in the background while Stiles got beaten, making desperate sounds of protest, like they wanted to help.

Something had shifted in that basement, Stiles could feel it. He'd joined the Hale Pack because Scott had joined the Hale Pack. He'd done his best to help, even before that. But down there, when it was just the three of them, when they were equally trying to protect each other, he had first had that sense of pack. It was such a vague concept that he had read about and that him and Scott had taken to interpret like a group of friends, the way Scott, Stiles, Allison, Jackson and Lydia had stuck together. But down there, it felt different. Solid, like Stiles could grasp it.

Jackson and Lydia had followed Derek. Lydia wanted to make sure Jackson would be taken care of, now that he was no longer a murderous lizard. Good for them, he thought, while swallowing bile. How could he compare to a Disney-style romance that broke a fucking curse, after all? No, he had just been the rebound. The guy who was good enough to pick up the pieces and help Lydia put them together again. The guy who was good enough to drive Lydia to the warehouse. Not the guy good enough to take her home, not the guy good enough to deserve her love.

Allison had been in the Argent home when he'd been dragged up from the basement. Boyd and Erica had said, when he'd pried the duct tape off their lips, before he'd been 'released', that Allison had shot them, had helped capture them and bring them into the basement.

And Scott? Scott, his best friend, his brother, the person because of whom Stiles had been taken and tortured to begin with – as a message to Scott, so he'd stop boning Gerard's granddaughter? Scott hadn't even asked about the bruises and injuries. He'd just… trailed after Allison, again.

"What do you want to do now, Stiles?" Peter asked.

Why was Peter helping him? Why had he drained Stiles' pain before they left the warehouse? Driven him to the Argents to find Boyd and Erica? Stiles didn't understand it and the fact that the wolf refused to reveal what angle he was working was so damn infuriating. Which was why Stiles decided to keep Peter close, keep an eye on the wolf, until he knew what game Peter was playing.

Peter was too damn smart for all their good, he'd proved that in the past already, if he was up to something, it'd be even worse this time around. Because he seemed much clearer and he had already been terrifyingly efficient and clever even out of his mind, so Stiles couldn't imagine what Peter was capable of when he had his whole mind to put into his plans.

There was a vindictive, dark voice in the back of his mind that whispered he wanted to see it. He wanted to see Peter go after Gerard with the same single-minded focus and brutal efficiency as he had with Kate. He wanted to see Peter tear out Gerard's throat and spill the man's blood. Peter Hale was a merciless guard dog ready to sink his teeth into anyone who was a threat to those he considered his. And a part of Stiles wanted to hold the leash.

"Darling?" Peter's voice was too damn gentle and concerned. "Do you want me to find them?"

Blinking slowly, Stiles stared at the wolf as a startling realization set in. He was already holding the leash. That was why Peter was helping him. Was driving him around. Wasn't killing him. Stiles didn't know why or how, but somehow, he had ended up holding the leash. The thrill this knowledge sent through Stiles was nearly as startling as the realization itself.

"Find them. I need to… They need to be fine. I need them to be fine. They're pack. My pack."

Peter tilted his head, greed in his too blue eyes. These eyes felt like they could see right through Stiles, understood the distinction Stiles had just made. Not part of whatever mess the Beacon Hills pack was right now, but specifically part of Stiles' pack. Because nobody else had been looking for him, nobody else had been trying to protect him down there. Nobody else had been looking at him, the way they had looked at him when Gerard had tortured him. The way Peter had looked at him in the warehouse. That thought made Stiles frown and tilt his head, regarding the wolf curiously.

"I got their scent," Peter said after a few moments of them staring intensely at each other. "This place is drenched with it. Let's follow the trail and find your wayward betas."

"They aren't my betas," Stiles snorted softly. "I'm not a werewolf, not an Alpha."

Peter looked far too amused by Stiles' annoyance while he led the way back upstairs. They walked out of the house and into the woods. Stiles couldn't help but walk a little closer to Peter. Seeking protection from the formerly dead, formerly insane former Alpha werewolf. Low warning growls interrupted Stiles' thoughts and before he could process what was happening, was he shoved behind Peter, who gave a matching warning growl. Oh, he really was holding the leash, wasn't he?

"Down, boy," Stiles huffed and stepped past Peter. "Boyd and Erica aren't a threat to me."

And when had that become true? He very distinctively remembered Erica knocking him out with a part of his own damn car, remembered fighting against the Hale Pack when Scott had still objected to joining. But then Scott and Stiles had joined the Hale Pack and then Scott had betrayed Derek, had made his plans without Stiles and hadn't even noticed Stiles' injuries, had just left to trail after Allison. And Boyd and Erica were here. In the woods. Alone. Not Hale Pack. Not whatever Scott had going on. Just them, alone. The same as Stiles. There was kinship in that too and maybe what he'd said was true. They were his pack now, tonight had shaped them into that.

"Batman?" Erica looked wary and exhausted. "You… You're alright."

She lunged forward and wrapped him up in her arms and in that moment, Stiles felt a jolt as he remembered holding her in the library during her seizure, soothing her in the train after Derek had broken her arm to trigger her healing, protecting her and Isaac at the rave, trying to free her from the basement. Boyd joined their hug and wrapped his arms around them both, pulling them close, and for the first time since the game, Stiles could breathe deeply and relax. Boyd and Erica were here, were alive, were safe. Safe, because Peter stood behind them, a looming, protective presence and a part of Stiles knew with frightening certainty that he would protect them at all cost.

Because Peter Hale was a merciless guard dog ready to sink his teeth into anyone who was a threat to those he considered his and for some reason, he seemed to consider Stiles his.

"C'mon guys, let's get out of here," Stiles whispered exhausted. "I need rest. And pain meds."

"Where do we go?" Erica asked with furrowed brows. "Because we… Well, we ran away."

"Again. Yeah, I can tell, by the fact that Peter tracked you down in the woods and not on your way back to your cozy homes," Stiles rolled his eyes. "Fuck, I don't know. My dad might have gotten a call about the… whatever chaos just happened at that warehouse, it definitely drew attention."

"Come back to the Jeep," Peter sighed. "You're coming back to my place."

Stiles raised his eyebrows at the wolf. He didn't even know Boyd and Erica. For a wolf to invite anyone into their den like that? Stiles really needed to figure out why Peter had decided that Stiles was his? This was ridiculous. Nearly as ridiculous as the pleased, warm feeling spreading in his chest at the thought. It was a little terrifying how safe he felt with Peter, because he knew what Peter was willing to do for those he considered his.

"Peter's place it is," Stiles leaned against Boyd, exhausted.

"Okay," Erica looked curiously at Peter. "Who's Peter?"

"Peter's…" Stiles trailed off, wondering how to describe the man who had turned Scott, the feral Alpha who had terrorized Beacon Hills, Derek's uncle whom Derek, Stiles, Scott, Allison and Jackson had killed together, the miraculously resurrected werewolf. "Peter's pack."

Peter straightened at that, staring at Stiles wondrously but very pleased. Stiles knew how cunning, ruthless and efficient Peter was and Stiles wasn't going to let go of the leash any time soon. Not when it was willingly handed to him, not when Stiles was slowly growing tired of being the strong one, of trying to hold everything together and protect everyone. If he could have that kind of protection? He was going to take it and keep it. If Peter had decided that Stiles was Peter's, then in that moment, Stiles decided that Peter was his too. Whatever that meant.

/break\

The only people who had ever been to Peter's penthouse had been his pack. His old pack. His siblings and their children. And then the fire happened. Now he had no siblings anymore and their children? Sloan, Jason and Cora were dead. Laura was dead, at Peter's hands. And Derek had killed Peter, for killing Laura. They would never be the same again, this tragedy and its aftermath had changed and twisted Peter and Derek too much.

These thoughts were going through his head as he unlocked the penthouse door and let the two wolves and the clever boy inside. He'd allowed Boyd – Peter had made it a point to learn their names, now that they were pack – to help Stiles to the penthouse. Even though Peter's voice wanted his boy close, wanted to take care of him personally.

"Nice place," Erica whistled as she looked around.

Peter closed the door behind himself and motioned first left and then right. "Left's the bathroom if you want to get cleaned up, to your right are three bedrooms, feel free to pick either of them. Down that hall and to the left? Taboo for you. Resist the curiosity if you don't want to find out how a born wolf reacts to their den being invaded. Straight ahead of us is the kitchen. Left to the kitchen down the hall is the living room, you can settle there for now."

Boyd helped Stiles into the living room, while Erica lingered, until Stiles sighed. "You can take first shower, Erica. I just want to sit down right now and not move. Wouldn't say no to food."

Erica made a delighted noise at that and rushed into the bathroom. Peter watched Boyd and Stiles until they reached the living room and Stiles was safely deposited on the couch. Only then did Peter move into the kitchen to make some food. Provide for his chosen mate. His chosen Alpha.

Ironic, wasn't that? When he'd first chosen Stiles, he had wanted the boy in his pack. The only one he'd offered the bite to, the only one he wanted. Everything about Stiles was perfect and Peter just knew that the boy would be a magnificent wolf. A strong addition to his pack. Fiercely loyal, ruthless, clever. Sarcastic, beautiful, snarky. The latter weren't exactly qualities needed in a strong pack-mate but they were the qualities Peter was looking for in a partner. And Stiles had them all, Stiles was the perfect mate for him. Peter had never wanted anything as much as he wanted Stiles to be in his pack, as a pack-mate, as his mate.

And then that loyalty, ruthlessness and clever mind worked against Peter. Because the boy had been loyal to Scott and Lydia, protective of them, and put his clever mind to good use by ruthlessly setting Peter on fire, ultimately leading to Peter's death. And now that Peter was back alive, no longer an Alpha but a beta at the mercy of the very wolf that had killed him, this clever boy was becoming something else entirely. Peter knew it the moment Stiles had called the betas his pack.

Human Alphas were rare nowadays, but not unheard of. While among werewolves, the Alpha spark was something to be inherited or ripped out and stolen, the Alpha sparks themselves had to come from somewhere. Humans born with a spark carried that potential in them and when they received the bite, they turned not into betas but Alphas. But even if those humans didn't receive the bite, that potential was still within them and they could rise to become Alphas while still human, if the circumstances aligned. Such was the case for Peter's clever boy.

A human with a spark – and yes, Peter knew that, could smell it on the boy, that was part of the reason he'd offered Stiles the bite, to bring out that hidden potential, to create an Alpha as his Alpha Mate, to ensure his pack, their pack, would be a strong one. And with the human, the wolves he cares for so fiercely. The wolves he is loyal to, had formed pack-bonds with already. Wolves without an Alpha. The stars had aligned for Stiles and even more so for Peter, because he found himself within that circle of wolves claimed by the boy.

When everybody else was too busy with themselves and their own drama and wounds, Peter had the luxury of paying attention to his boy. His boy who reeked of pain and blood and Argent. He drained Stiles' pain, took the boy's keys and drove him where he wanted to go. Retrieving the two runaway betas of Derek's, whose loyalty now had shifted to Stiles.

If not for Stiles, Peter would have never let those two wolves into his den. A feeble bond between Peter and Derek wouldn't have justified letting two strangers into his own den. But Stiles? Stiles was different. Peter wanted Stiles and he wanted to be wanted by Stiles. Had done so since he'd laid eyes on the boy, really. But it had peaked at the parking garage, when he'd offered Stiles the bite and when he had felt the sting of Stiles' rejection. That moment had cemented how much he needed Stiles to want him, to choose him, and he had promised himself he'd make it so.

So when Stiles wanted him to track down the betas, Peter did it. And when Stiles was looking for a safe place for his pack, Peter offered his den, because he wanted it to be a safe place for their pack. For Stiles, most specifically. And when Stiles had agreed? His wolf had rumbled contently.

"Sandwiches," Peter announced as he carried two plates very highly stacked with sandwiches. "Cheese, chicken, ham, pbj, roast. Have your pick, dear."

Stiles raised his eyebrows but accepted the sandwiches. It pleased Peter's wolf so much to see his chosen mate eat the food he'd prepared and offered. He was providing for Stiles. He had Stiles in his den and was providing for him. Next, he'd take care of his boy's injuries.

/break\

By the time Erica was done in the shower, Boyd and Stiles had polished off half the sandwiches. Stiles was leaning back against the couch, relaxing. The pain was a dull ache, a throbbing overall, but when he didn't move, it was okay. He was dirty, sweaty and bloody, so he would like to get cleaned up, but getting up didn't sound great.

"You can take next shower," Stiles motioned vaguely at Boyd. "I'm fine."

"You're the least fine of us," Boyd argued with furrowed brows.

He still got up and headed over to the bathroom, while Erica flopped down next to Stiles and started digging into the sandwiches, giving loud praise around mouthfuls of food. Stiles smiled faintly.

"Enough lazying about, darling," Peter declared once Erica was two sandwiches in. "Come up."

"Boyd's still in the shower," Stiles argued warily even as he was being pulled up.

"Yes. I happen to have a second bathroom," Peter made it sound casual.

It wasn't casual. If it was casual, he would have said so from the get go so two of them could get cleaned up at the same time. Still, Stiles let the wolf half carry him down the hall, past the three bedrooms he had mentioned earlier, and then take a left. To the off limits rooms he had also mentioned earlier. Peter opened the door at the end of the hall to the left and led Stiles into what must be the wolf's bedroom. Stiles eagerly looked around, trying to seize what Peter's most private room looked like. A bit snobbish and fancy but nice. Red was the dominating color, the sheets, the curtains, the armchair in the corner. Stiles was a little surprised that there wasn't a single bookshelf in the room, he hadn't seen one in the living room either. Peter pulled him along, to the only other door in the room and showed Stiles into the master bathroom.

"I am assuming this is soundproof," Stiles said as he looked around. "So we might as well have that conversation now that I didn't want to have in front of Boyd and Erica."

"What makes you assume my home is soundproof?" Peter raised an eyebrow.

"The three additional bedrooms," Stiles smiled faintly. "Guest bedrooms for your niblings, when they were small. And loud. With werewolf hearing, I'm sure you soundproofed."

"Clever boy," Peter looked amused even as he reached out for the hem of Stiles' shirt. "Yes, the bedrooms are magically soundproof. What would you like to talk about, darling?"

"What," Stiles caught Peter's wrist. "Do you think you're doing there, Creeperwolf?"

"Multitasking," Peter flashed Stiles a smile with too many teeth. "We can talk while I take a look at your injuries and draw you a bath. You look like you could use a nice, muscle-relaxing soak."

Heaving a sigh, Stiles let the wolf peel his shirt off. Mostly because the thought of lifting his arm that far made him wince. Peter's touch was gentle as he removed the shirt and then ran his fingers over Stiles' chest, tracing his ribs, checking if anything was broken or just bruised.

"Explain to me what's going on here," Stiles ordered. "You're behaving weird. You're being helpful. You aren't helpful unless there is something you can gain."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Peter chimed with fake cheer. "I like you, Stiles."

"Mhmh," Stiles stared at him doubtfully. "You let us into your den. Not just me. Also two people you essentially don't know. You let me into your bedroom. I know enough about wolves to know that means something. I just don't know what it means in the context of you."

There was the briefest stutter in Peter's movement and Stiles caught it. He sighed, sitting on the edge of the bathtub. Very big, fancy bathtub. The bathroom was nice, black tiles, large sink, a waterfall shower in the corner of the room, a shelf with towels and some comfortable clothes in the other corner. Peter started filling the bathtub and adding herbs and flowers to it.

"Peter," Stiles growled in warning. "Tell me. What is going on here? You know something."

Heaving a sigh, Peter went to sit on the closed toilet lid, his hands folded and his elbows on his knees. Okay, so there was definitely something going on and Peter absolutely knew. Stiles rubbed his arms a little, feeling a chill, standing there shirtless.

"Have you ever heard the term Spark before?" Peter asked and Stiles tensed minutely. "So you have. The Alpha power is referred to as an Alpha spark. Have you ever wondered how there could be so, so many pack Alphas, if the Alpha power is only passed on or stolen?"

"I… have," Stiles nodded slowly. "Werewolves spread through the bite and lineage, but if Alphahood can only pass on from one Alpha to the next… there should only be one Alpha in existence."

Peter nodded, looking mildly amused. "The Alpha spark is something that humans can carry and if they are bitten, they will become Alpha werewolves right away, without having to take the spark from another Alpha. Most wolves wouldn't know to identify that potential in humans, but as a born wolf who has known many Alphas in my life, I can… smell it on you. You're a Spark, Stiles."

"I am," Stiles nodded slowly, his eyes wide. "I, uh, just didn't know what it means. So… So you offered me the bite because you knew I'd become an Alpha? Wait. Why did you offer me the bite then? I mean, you were an Alpha, what, did you want a rival Alpha, I don't get it?"

"Not a rival Alpha," Peter's smile was enigmatic and weirdly soft. "An Alpha to lead at my side."

"At your side?" Stiles raised one eyebrow in disbelief. "Packs don't just have two Alphas un…"

He trailed off, stopping the words before they could leave his lips. His eyes widened. The smile on Peter's lips seemed even softer, nearly pleased that Stiles had figured it out. Stiles' heart skipped.

"Unless they're the Alpha Mates," Peter said the words anyway.

He got up suddenly and walked over to Stiles. Stiles' heart was hammering in his chest, cheeks turning dark-red when the wolf leaned in so close until Stiles could get lost in his ice-blue eyes and for a long moment, he thought Peter was going to kiss him. Instead, the wolf reached for the water regulators and turned it off before stepping away from Stiles again.

"Your bath is ready, darling. The herbs I mixed in should ease your aches and help speed up the healing of your more superficial injuries," Peter offered.

The wolf looked too damn smug, like he knew exactly what Stiles had thought he would do. And the fact that Stiles hadn't shoved him away or tried to move out of the way was frustratingly telling. Peter went to the shelf and took a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie out, to place them on the closed toilet lid, together with a big, fluffy towel.

"We're not done with this conversation yet," Stiles warned. "But now get out. I'm not getting naked in front of you, Creeperwolf. Go and check on Boyd and Erica for me."

Peter looked at him with bright eyes and a smile. "Yes, Alpha."

And then the bastard just left the bathroom before Stiles could process it. He stared at the closed door for a few long moments before he got naked and climbed into the tub. Alpha, huh?

/break\

When Peter returned to the living room, he found the two betas entangled on his couch, Erica curled against Boyd's chest with her feet in his lap, his nose buried in her curls and a hand running down her spine. The two were comforting each other, seeking solace after the ordeal of the night. A mated pair. Well, at least that meant neither of them were a threat for Peter in regard to Stiles.

"So—o, who are you?" Erica asked, looking half curious and half asleep. "Like, Stiles said you're pack. But… are we even pack? I mean, Boyd and I left Derek's pack."

"Does Stiles feel like pack to you?" Peter asked simply, reaching for a sandwich himself.

The teens had only left three sandwiches, all else were gone. Erica tilted her head, looking thoughtful at his question. A hand reached up to rub her sternum and she nodded.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's like… I don't know, a warm feeling that tells me it's true. He's pack."

"That's a pack-bond," Peter supplied, wondering what his nephew had even taught them. "You left Derek's pack. But you chose Stiles, and each other. And Stiles… seems to have chosen me too. He is our Alpha and with the three of us, he has three betas, making us a stable pack."

"Stiles is human," Boyd noted with a frown. "Bossy and knowing more about werewolves than any of the wolves we met, but still human. He did teach Scott control without torture devices."

Peter wasn't even going to ask what that meant. The night had been exhausting for him too, after all. He'd resurrected himself and then helped take out the kanima. Once he was done eating, he brought the empty plates back to the kitchen. The two betas trailed after him.

"You can take the guest rooms, or one of the guest rooms, if you prefer to stay together," Peter offered, looking at them, seeing how exhausted they were. "I think you could both use rest. You can also check the closets, maybe there are some leftover clothes in there."

Laura had always left some clothes at Peter's, mostly the ones she didn't want her mom to know (too expensive, too short, yet another shopping trip even though she had enough clothes. Peter's heart ached at the reminder of teenage Laura and how close they used to be). The mated pair exchanged a look, their hands linked. Peter stepped up to them and gave their shoulders a gentle squeeze, running his hands down their arms. Scent-marking his new pack-mates. They stared.

"Scent-marking. Don't tell me my nephew didn't teach you about that either," Peter sighed. "Wolves scent-mark their pack, to let predators and other wolves know these are off-limits, to show… kinship, let others know that we're… pack."

"Oh," Erica blinked curiously. "Is that why I got so much more tactile after the bite?"

"Yes," Peter smiled, pleased that she understood the signs. "Your wolf is telling you to scent-mark, even if you don't know. You have to embrace that, follow your instincts."

Erica nodded and the next moment, she wrapped her arms around Peter, pulling him into a tight, all-embracing hug. For a second, he couldn't breath, because he couldn't remember when someone had last willingly touched him, especially not like this. He wrapped shaky arms around her to pull her close and in that moment, Peter truly felt the pack-bond between them settle in, warming his chest. He closed his eyes tightly to suppress the tears that threatened to spill. He hadn't felt a proper pack-bond to another wolf since the fire. Taking a shuddering breath, he let go of her.

Boyd tilted his head and reached out to squeeze Peter's arm. Like his mate's approval was all it took for Boyd to trust Peter too. Though Stiles bringing them here had gone a long way too. A second warm bond flared alive in his chest. He gave them both a short nod, grateful he had taken the risky gamble of inviting the strangers in to gain their Alpha's favor.

"Sleep well," Peter offered, a more genuine smile on his lips now.

He watched them enter Laura's old room and only after the door closed did Peter head down the hall to his own bedroom. No sight of Stiles, not that he had expected it. Stiles had only gone into the bath about twenty minutes ago. Peter took the time to get changed into something more casual and comfortable before settling into his bed with a book, waiting.

Stiles left the bathroom another twenty minutes later and stared him down. "You called me Alpha."

"Your betas accepted me as pack," Peter offered simply, feeling a little smug about it. "They wouldn't be able to if you hadn't accepted me as pack. You called me pack earlier."

"There's a difference between that and you calling me Alpha," Stiles frowned.

"Not to me," Peter shrugged, his eyes still on his book, trying to look casual. "I'm a born wolf. Pack means something to me. You're the Alpha, you declared me pack. Did you mean it?"

He finally looked up from his book and his grip on it immediately tightened. To actually see Stiles in his clothes like that, the hoodie hanging somewhat loose on him, the sweat-pants a little too short but oh he looked perfect. The Spark heaved a sigh and then walked over to sit on the edge of the bed. Peter hated seeing the exhaustion on the boy, the bruises and scraps. He vowed to himself that he was going to track down Gerard Argent and tear him into shreds for it.

"I rarely say things I don't mean, Peter," Stiles sighed again, exhausted. "You stayed. When everybody else left. You helped me track them down. You invited us into your den. If you're willing to put in the work and to open up to this pack, then yes, you're a part of it."

Peter inhaled sharply at the beautiful feeling of a genuine pack-bond between him and Stiles. Finally, after how long he had wanted the boy, wanted him in Peter's pack. Well, now Peter was in Stiles' pack, but it didn't make a difference to Peter, not anymore. Not after what he'd lost.

"You're gonna explain everything you know about Sparks and how in the world I am human but an Alpha," Stiles demanded and then pulled his legs up onto the bed. "Tomorrow. Now, I need sleep."

Peter stared in stunned silence as Stiles slowly got comfortable next to him. In Peter's bed. The boy grabbed the blanket and threw it over himself, snuggling in and resting his head on the usually empty pillow. Peter continued staring at the pretty invader in his bed.

"This is… my bed, darling," Peter pointed out carefully.

"Yeah, the fact that it's in your bedroom clued me in," Stiles peeked out from his blanket cocoon. "I figured you out, Peter. Why you did what you did today. What you said earlier, about… You want me. You like me. Still unsure why, but I can accept that the fact that you do is what motivated you. So, I'm fairly sure there's no safer place for me than with a werewolf at my back, who's not shy to kill to avenge or defend those he considers his. If you consider me yours, I'm safest right here."

Peter swallowed hard. He knew Stiles was clever, it had been the first thing that drew him in with this boy. That and those big doe-eyes. But that Stiles would put that together so easily and say it so bluntly? Sure, Peter had admitted that he had wanted Stiles as his Alpha Mate, when he had been insane and driven by instincts, but that he drew the right conclusion from it for the now... Peter huffed out a small laugh and put his book aside.

"I will guard you with my life, Alpha," Peter promised him, flashing his eyes blue.

Stiles looked up at him, intense and like he was concentrating. Peter did a surprised double-take when Stiles' eyes flashed Alpha-red at him. A pleased grin spread over Stiles' lips at his reaction.

"That Spark of mine, it's… it lets me manifest things, if I believe them hard enough?" Stiles tilted his head a little. "I'm an Alpha. So if I believe that enough, it'll be true. Even without being a wolf. That's how I'm a human Alpha, isn't it?"

"I… suppose that's how it works," Peter nodded slowly, staring wondrously at his boy. "I'll tell you everything that I know and you can read up on it yourself, I have many books on it."

"Ri—ight," Stiles looked around the bedroom. "Haven't seen a single book in your house."

"Because you haven't seen the library yet," Peter smiled and it turned more pleased at the eager sparkle in Stiles' eyes. "Tomorrow, and any day after, if you like."

Stiles paused for a moment, looking thoughtful. "And you're fine with this? Me being Alpha. You were Alpha when you offered me the bite, you wanted me as your Alpha Mate. Your equal. This? I'm the Alpha, you're my beta? It's not what you wanted."

"What you want sometimes changes with your circumstances," Peter turned to lay on his side, propping his head up with one hand and looking at his boy. "I wanted to be an Alpha for the power, I needed it to get my revenge. Never been keen on the whole leadership and responsibility aspect of it, as you might have noticed with the way I fumbled my attempt at a pack. I was a good beta. I was a good Left Hand. When I became an Alpha, I didn't… I wasn't being an Alpha, I still worked as the Left Hand. I protected, avenged, killed. That's what I'm good at."

Stiles hummed curiously, laying so close to Peter that Peter could feel the huff of Stiles' breath. It thrilled him, to have his boy in his bed like that. He slowly inched closer to the Spark.

"I will gladly be your Left Hand," Peter whispered lowly. "I will protect you and our pack."

He was close enough to feel the warmth of Stiles' body. Daringly, he laid an arm around Stiles' waist and pulled him closer. The boy didn't protest, he followed the pull willingly.

"Okay," Stiles whispered and then daringly leaned up to press a kiss to the corner of Peter's mouth.

Peter froze wide-eyed and stared at the Spark, listening to the jackrabbit heartbeat. "What."

"I don't know about Alpha Mate," Stiles whispered, ducking his head to try and hide his blush. "But you're here, when nobody else is, and you want me. And I want… that. I want to be wanted, I want to feel safe, I want to not always be the one trying to keep everyone together and safe. I want to see where whatever this is can go. Alpha me is gonna take what I want. And I think I want you."

All Peter could do was stare at the boy. He blinked stunned, unsure how to comprehend this.

"It's okay," Stiles reached out and patted Peter's cheek. "Sleep now. Big conversations tomorrow."

Huffing, Peter wrapped his arms tightly around Stiles' waist and pulled him against his chest. The Spark sighed contently and rested his head on Peter's chest before closing his eyes.

"Good night, darling," Peter kissing the top of his head. "You're safe. I will protect you."

"The fact that I believe you is why I kissed you," Stiles admitted softly.

/break\

When Stiles woke up, he was still with his face mushed against Peter's very firm and very comfortable chest, with the wolf's arms wrapped around him. His heart stumbled when he remembered that he'd kissed Peter last night. He had followed an impulse there. If someone had asked him two days ago if he'd ever kiss Peter Hale, he would have probably shot them.

Too much had changed in just one day. Scott had decided to leave Stiles in the dark, work alone on a horrendously bad plan, Derek had walked away, Lydia was back together with Jackson, Stiles had gotten kidnapped and tortured by his principal together with Boyd and Erica, Peter magically resurrected himself somehow and now Stiles was a human Alpha of his own pack.

Stretching, Stiles groaned when his injuries ached at the motion. A hand sneaked beneath his shirt, pressing against his lower back and Stiles was about to make a bad touch comment to the Creeperwolf when Peter leeched his pain away through the touch. With a content sigh did Stiles melt back against Peter's chest, accepting the comfort and help.

"You kissed me last night," Peter whispered softly. "That is a conversation I would like to have first, before we leave the soundproof room to join the rest of the pack. It's okay if you just kissed me because yesterday was an overwhelming day with a lot of adrenaline."

"I told you why I kissed you and I meant it," Stiles slowly sat up so he could look at Peter. "I spent the past year running after Lydia, desperately wanting her to want me. Yesterday, in that warehouse, I realized that I was fooling myself there. Maybe, instead of trying to chase someone who never wanted me, I could meet someone halfway who already wants me. I've never been wanted before. I like this feeling. The only parts about yesterday that I liked were with you."

Stiles leaned against the headboard, watching Peter sit up too. "You paid attention to me when nobody else bothered to look at me. You helped me when nobody else did. You found Boyd and Erica for me. You let us into your home and you kept us safe here."

Stiles reached up to cup his bruised ribs, remembering the beating he'd taken last night from Gerard. "All year, I've been fighting so hard, trying to help, I met every challenge with my head held high. Last night… Gerard made me a victim. He made me feel helpless. And I never want to feel like that again. You… Your murder spree, to avenge your pack? If you hadn't dragged Scott into it, I wouldn't have gotten in your way. I get that, I get what you did and why you did it."

Slowly, Stiles leaned over, resting a hand on Peter's chest, hovering with his lips close to Peter's. "If I can have you, your loyalty and ruthlessness dedicated to me, I… I want that. I really want that."

"You want me," Peter repeated in a very soft voice.

"I'm not saying I hopelessly fell in love with you," Stiles pointed out. "I'm saying that I like the way you make me feel. I want more of that. I want to see where this could go, yes. If… If that's enough for you, considering you were talking Alpha Mate yesterday…"

"Darling, I will take anything you're willing to give me," Peter laughed, a startled but clearly happy sound. "I was prepared to fight for my place in your pack. I didn't expect… anything. I'll take it. I'll show you that I will be your perfect Alpha Mate."

He smiled and it was so bright and genuine that it made Stiles' heart flutter. Happy was a good look on Peter and Stiles would like to see more of that. He liked being the cause of it too. Smiling himself, Stiles leaned down the last inch to place a proper kiss on Peter's lips. Peter reached up to lay one arm around Stiles' neck, giving it a gentle squeeze to draw him closer.

"Okay," Stiles grinned and sat up. "Breakfast now, then you'll show me that library you teased me with yesterday and all those books about Sparks that you promised me."

"Perhaps you should also call your father," Peter furrowed his brows.

"I texted him last night, while you were making sandwiches. He thinks I'm staying with friends, because I was 'too rattled' after what happened last night to stay home alone while he's working," Stiles shrugged. "I have all day. Maybe even more than that. The station's seriously understaffed, thanks to the kanima and its idiot master. And I'm guessing that what went down yesterday is going to gain some attention from the cops, so dad will be busy."

Peter hummed and got up. The two left the bedroom together but before they continued on their way, Peter motioned at the door right opposite Peter's bedroom. Stiles tilted his head intrigued.

"Library. The room next to it is my office," Peter explained. "You are free to read all the books. I know you'll absorb all the knowledge and you'll find a way to make it work for you, Alpha."

A grin spread over Stiles' lips and on impulse, he took Peter's hand. "Okay, yeah, I really like when you call me that. It's kinda hot too. So… Will you be my Left Hand?"

Peter lifted Stiles' hand up to kiss his knuckles. "I will be whatever you'll let me, darling."

Swallowing hard, Stiles just nodded. Peter's dedication was a bit overwhelming, but in a good way. In the way Stiles had always wanted. Sure, Peter was not the person he'd ever expected to get it from, but… Peter was attractive, clever, loyal and strong. Stiles wanted that. Wanted Peter.

"Oh, I am definitely in love with this kitchen," Stiles whistled when they reached their destination.

"I've always loved cooking," Peter smiled, pleased by Stiles' awe. "My grandmother was from Italy, I inherited her recipes and her passion for it."

"Okay, definitely expect to be blown away by whatever you cook for our first date, then."

He grinned when Peter stumbled at his words. Oh, he was actually going to have a lot of fun with his wolf. As much as Stiles loved cooking, everything still ached so he just parked himself at the kitchen table, getting comfortable and watching Peter work. Peter put a cup of coffee in front of Stiles in between getting everything out that he needed to make breakfast.

Halfway into pancakes, waffles and omelet, Boyd and Erica wandered in to join them. Erica sat down with Stiles, half leaning into him and looking sleepy, while Boyd went to Peter and asked how he could help. Stiles smiled, feeling warm as he enjoyed this calm, nice morning with his pack.

"So, it turns out I am an Alpha," Stiles announced when Peter and Boyd brought them food.

"Yeah, Peter mentioned it last night. That we're pack now," Erica grinned. "Honestly, I think you'll do a better job than Derek at it. I mean, you taught Scott, right? You can teach us."

Stiles blinked at the easy acceptance. "I… I mean, I'll try. And I think that Peter will be able to help too. I may know stuff from my research, but he knows it from his experience."

"Not to state the obvious, but… Derek's a born wolf too," Erica pointed out with a frown.

"Who lost his pack when he was fifteen. I doubt he paid much attention to pack politics and stuff when he was a kid," Stiles argued softly. "I don't… Derek's helped me a lot in this past year. I know he let you guys down, I don't know if he's really meant to be an Alpha. But… We'll have to find a way to live together, share territory, if there's going to be two packs living here, okay?"

"Sure thing, Alpha," Boyd grinned at him before sitting down next to Erica.

He hooked a foot with hers and their arms were pressed against each other as they ate. Stiles tilted his head as he watched the couple and then he turned toward his wolf. Peter sat down next to him, putting down a large plate of bacon for everyone. Stiles stole a slice and leaned into Peter. He smiled when conversation shifted to something lighter and it felt happy and almost normal. Stiles wanted it to be normal, wanted this to be their normal. Him and his pack.

~*~ The End ~*~

Author's note: When I say "my hand slipped and I accidentally wrote this fic", I don't think that phrase ever fit more than for this. Because the whole first part, up to the first "break", was actually part of the first chapter of "The Alpha Pack's Spark" but the leashed guard dog metaphor and Stiles' whole demeanor didn't match the tonality of the story and it was giving me such strong human Alpha Stiles vibes that I figured sure, why not, let's cut that part out of the chapter, put it in a new doc and write a human Alpha Stiles fic :D