Three Sassketeers: Part One
Purple flames flew up from the pile of vegetation, and Stiles jumped back. He wasn't entirely sure if that meant that the ritual had worked, or if something had gone wrong. Muttering under his breath, he flicked quickly through the pages of the half-rotted, ancient text he'd swiped from Peter Hale's previously secret stash of resources.
“Hm, sage, rowan, mistletoe... Ah! That's it!” Before the flames died away, Stiles sprinkled the powdered snake fang he'd gotten from Deaton over the top in a spiral leading out. That's what was missing. He stepped away again and closed his eyes, focusing on what he wanted to happen.
“What the hell, kid?” A strange voice spoke then, and Stiles opened his eyes before letting out a whoop.
Where before had been the burning items, there was now a man. He was a little shorter than Stiles, with light brown hair and eyes, and his clothing was pretty nondescript. Even as a human, however, it was easy for Stiles to feel the sheer power pouring off of him. Then the stranger snapped his fingers, and it was all contained again. Stiles was still grinning widely, amazed that he'd pulled it off.
“You... summoned me?” The man tilted his head to one side, apparently confused. “Huh. Well, that's one way of getting out of... Anyway. Congrats kid, you managed to summon Loki. What do you want, and what'll you give me in return?”
“I... oh, whoops,” Stiles's grin died a little and he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I was, well... just seeing if I could do it. I kinda... forgot to plan further than that...”
Loki stared at him for a moment, then started to laugh.
“I like you, kid. And you got me out of a tight situation with that summoning, so I'm gonna go easy on you.” He wandered over to a fallen log, wrinkled his nose in disgust, then snapped his fingers. The log disappeared and was replaced by a very comfortable looking couch. “C'mon, sit with me. Explain what's going on that you decided that trying to summon me was a fun thing to do.”
“Okay,” Stiles agreed amicably. He really had gotten so wrapped up in whether it was even possible to summon someone that he'd neglected to think about what would happen if he succeeded. Truthfully, he'd doubted that it was even possible, but his powers had been growing stronger ever since Deaton had started lending him proper books on magical theory, and Peter had occasionally been giving him lessons in practical magic.
“So... where to start,” he mused. Loki just snapped his fingers and produced a pair of lollipops, handing one to Stiles and sticking the other in his own mouth. “Thanks. So, about eighteen months ago my best friend got bitten by a rogue werewolf...”
For the next hour, Stiles detailed what had happened in Beacon Hills. He sometimes went off on a tangent, which Loki always followed until they got back to the original topic. Eventually he came to the present.
“After a bit of bitching, Jackson agreed to join Derek's pack, which is good. Lydia's taking out Peter's debt to her in shopping trips and information, and figured out how to make wolfsbane-based pepper spray in case he pisses her off again. Gerard's body disappeared, I'm not entirely sure what to think of that. And now there's a whole freakin' pack of Alphas circling town. They left a dead squirrel on my jeep's hood a couple days ago, so clearly they know that I'm werewolf-adjacent.”
“You sure it's not someone trying to court you?” Loki asked, looking perfectly innocent. Stiles poked his tongue out in retalliation.
“Anyway, they really hurt Isaac. No word from Erica or Boyd, so... I'm hoping that they got out of town before the Alphas got them. Derek's as close to panicking as I've ever seen him, and, well... if we don't find a way of getting rid of them, we're fucked. Proper fucked.”
“Hm,” Loki hummed as he nodded, eyes looking far off. Stiles bit his lip to keep from speaking, trying to let the being beside him think. Every now and then he sipped the soda that Loki had snapped up for him when his voice had started hurting, in an effort not to fidget.
“This Alpha pack sounds shifty as all Hell,” Loki finally spoke. “I really shouldn't get involved in something like this, since technically the Weres are my grand-kids.”
“Descended from Fenris, right?” Stiles sat up, attention piqued. “I knew it! I mean, there's been stuff about werewolves in all sorts of cultures, but I just had this feeling that it was something to do with you and Fenris and Scandinavian lore.”
“Smart kid,” Loki grinned at him. “Anyway, while I don't want to get directly involved in their squabbles, there's nothing to prevent me from giving a fledgeling mage a little advice.” He paused, then reached out and grabbed Stiles' left hand. Loki drew a triskellion - why was it always triskellions with wolves? - with his finger on the inside of Stiles' wrist, leaving behind a silvery glow that tingled. Once it was done, he tapped each spiral.
“Werewolf, Hunter, Mage. There's a powerful ritual that binds these three together. When they come together as equals, they are damn near indestructible. The barriers come down, they join together in common cause, and can access each other's strengths. If you can bring together a hunter and a werewolf, you'll be able to defeat any enemy and protect your town.”
Stiles stared at the pattern on his skin as it slowly faded, feeling as though it was sinking into his very being. He glanced up at Loki's face, finding the demi-god's eyes trained on his.
“You're very young, but I think you can do this. You need to think carefully though. If you go down this route, you'll be tied to the other two for the rest of your lives. It's unlikely that any of you will form significant relationships outside of your bonds to each other. You need to be sure before you complete the bond. This cannot be entered into lightly.”
Breath caught in his throat, heart pounding, Stiles nodded. The bond that Loki spoke of seemed to loom in the back of his mind, a foreboding presence that he would need to think about. But it was an option, which was more than he'd had earlier that day.
“I understand,” Stiles confirmed when he could speak again. “How do I complete the ritual?”
Loki leaned back, a downright evil-looking smirk crossing his face. Stiles couldn't help the blush that rose as he swore he could feel Loki's gaze running over him.
“It's a lot of fun. Trust me, you'll enjoy it. Now, how do you feel about group sex?”
“How about I rip off your arm and shove it up your-”
“Okay!” Stiles interrupted before Derek could finish his threat. “Okay dude, let's take five and we'll start again at quarter past?”
“Agreed,” Chris Argent nodded before Allison could comment. “We will consider a more appropriate action.”
Stiles shot the man a thankful grin before grabbing Derek's arm. The alpha allowed Stiles to drag him outside, though he was quite clearly not happy about it. When they got out into Stiles' back yard, Peter was already leaning against the wall, waiting.
“Let me guess,” Peter smiled at them. “Our fearless leader went and lost his temper. Shocking.”
“Peter-”
“Shut up, both of you,” Stiles snapped. “Look, Derek, I get that this is hard for you. But we need to form a truce, even if it's just until we deal with the alpha pack. We can't fight a war on two fronts.”
Derek glared for a moment, then sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face.
“I know,” he muttered. “I just... She gets under my skin. After everything she's done, I can't trust her.”
Stiles flopped down onto the grass, trying to think of a solution. He hadn't told anyone about his meeting with Loki - hell, he was still trying to figure out if it was worth it to bind himself to two people to deal with the problem. Loki had accepted that and had disappeared, claiming that he had people to track down.
Before things had gotten too crazy, Stiles had managed to convince Scott that he was safest working with Derek - partly so that they could keep an eye on Peter - but things were still tense there. Surprisingly Derek didn't actually seem to mind Stiles tagging along, even going as far as acknowledging that he and Scott were a two-for-one deal. Even so, they were down in numbers with just Derek, Scott, Peter, Isaac, and Jackson. Lydia was as much pack as Stiles was, but neither of them were fighters. They were the tacticians of the group. Lydia worked out where to point Jackson, and he would apply his muscles to the situation - which wasn't that dissimilar to how their relationship had always been, Stiles figured.
It hadn't been until the alpha pack started leaving tokens at his and Lydia's houses that Stiles put his foot down. After several days of constant pestering, Derek had agreed to meet with the Argents in an attempt to join forces and take down the alpha pack. Allison had agreed as long as the meeting took place at Stiles' house, which was the closest thing to neutral ground they had.
All of which had lead to this point. It was becoming increasingly clear that Derek and Allison could not have a civil discussion, even when their lives could well depend on it.
“I might have a suggestion,” Peter spoke after several seconds of silence. “That is, if you're willing to hear me out.”
“Go for it,” Sties sighed. “I don't think you could say much worse than what Derek's tried. Unless you're about to suggest killing everyone, in which case I call veto.”
“He's not going to suggest killing everyone,” Derek rolled his eyes, but Stiles was pretty sure he detected a faint tremor of uncertainty in his next words. “...Are you?”
“Of course not,” Peter waved a hand dismissively. “I tried that already. Didn't work, remember? I was actually going to suggest that you and Allison should head to your respective homes and leave the negotiating to the rest of us.”
“How is that a good idea? Stiles exclaimed. “You don't trust the Argents any more than Derek, and they hate you just as much! Maybe even more!”
“Which is why you'll stay,” Peter replied calmly. “My interest is in staying alive, and to do that I need the pack to be safe. Argent's interest is in killing the Alphas. Your interest is protecting the town and civilians. Correct?”
“Well, I... I guess, yeah,” Stiles blinked.
“Between the three of us we can work something out,” Peter smiled. “And I'm sure you can keep us on track instead of getting bogged down in who killed who.”
“You have met me, right?” Stile muttered, even as he shrugged in agreement. “Staying on topic isn't really my strong point.”
“Stiles,” Derek finally spoke up, looking at the teen. “Are you okay being alone with them?”
“Yeah, I'll be fine,” Stiles grinned and waved off Derek's concern. “You okay with us negotiating for you?”
“With you tempering Peter it should be okay,” Derek nodded. “Clearly I'm not getting anywhere. You're better at words than I am.”
“Yeah, you prefer to bite your problems until they go away,” Stiles joked, unable to help himself. He dodged back from the half-hearted snap of teeth Derek sent his way - the guy was getting much better at toning own the violence around the humans - and headed back inside. “Coming, Zombiewolf?”
“Right behind you,” Peter whispered in his ear, causing Stiles to jolt forward and slap at the side of his head.
“Don't do that!” He glared back over his shoulder. “Seriously, you all need freakin' bells!”
Peter merely smiled in response.
“I have your word that Derek will turn no one else?” Chris asked, eyes flicking between Stiles and Peter.
“Absolutely,” Stiles nodded. “No more wayward pups.”
“With Scott and I joining his pack,” Peter interjected to elaborate, “Derek has a large enough pack to soothe his instincts. His whole effort is now going into securing his territory. If there are to be any further additions to the pack, it will be after the area is peaceful.”
“Very well,” Chris nodded. “And you Stiles?”
“Huh? And me, what?”
“Will you be asking for the bite?” Chris elaborated with a slight twist of his lips. “You probably have a better idea of what it would mean than most.”
“Yeah, uh... no,” Stiles shook his head emphatically. “Not gonna happen. I'm badass enough as a human. Don't need the urge to kill messing up my thriving social life every full moon.”
“That's good to hear,” Chris commented dryly, even as Stiles saw Peter smirk at him. “Now, Isaac has never harmed a human, correct?”
“Neither has Scott,” Stiles nodded. “And Jackson was being controlled, so I think he should get a pass on that.”
“I know. Now I'm not sure how you wolves see it,” Chris shot a glance at Peter, “but I would prefer it if all of the kids were kept out of fights. At least as much as is practical.”
“I agree,” Peter nodded before Stiles could object. “There will be times they will have to defend themselves, but I would rather they do not take part in offensive strikes.”
“Hey!” Stiles interrupted, glaring at the two adults. “In case you've forgotten, one of those 'kids' is sitting right here. And really, we all stopped being kids a long time before this supernatural shit started.”
“Stiles,” Chris held out a hand in a placating manner. “You misunderstand. I'm not saying you can't fight. I'm saying that you shouldn't have to.”
“Exactly,” Peter agreed - which Stiles would boggle over later. “The Alpha Pack is ruthless and savage, but they are also clever. None of you should have to go up against wolves who won't think twice about killing you. You've already proven you have the strength and courage to fight if you have to. We just don't want you to have to.”
Stiles made himself stop and think about what the men were saying. Put like that, it made sense. They were just trying to protect him and his friends, both the wolfy kind and non-wolfy.
“Okay,” Stiles nodded, breaking through the silent looks the men were giving each other. “I can see your point. I'll agree to us keeping out of the front lines on the proviso that we are not to be kept in the dark information-wise. Plans are to be shared and discussed.” When it looked like Chris might object, Stiles hurried on. “That's as much about protecting us as anything else,” he reassured the hunter. “We need to know where shit's going down so we can avoid the area. 'Cause Scott and I especially have the worst luck about being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“He has a point,” Peter mused, leaning back in his chair.
“How about this,” Chris suggested. “Leave Scott and Isaac out of it. Allison, too, and whatever other kids Derek's collected.” Stiles stifled a laugh at Chris' phrasing. No matter how true, it was still funny how Derek attracted teenagers as though they were his ducklings. “Stiles, you will be told the details of any planned attacks. It will then be up to you as to how much information the others need to know. It will also give you advance notice in case you need to keep your father away from somewhere.”
Stiles swallowed hard, but nodded. At the moment it was simply safest for the sheriff to be kept in the dark. The second he was able to, though, Stiles was completely prepared to spill his guts.
“Okay,” he acquiesced. “So, what else do we need to cover?”
“Not much,” Chris looked over the notes he'd been making. “The three of us will continue to meet and share information on a weekly basis. This house and Deaton's clinic are neutral territory.
“Agreed,” Peter nodded. “Our wolves will stay away from your home and your hunters' homes, your hunters will stay away from Derek's... space and the rest of the packs' homes.” Stiles tried not to laugh at the look on Peter's face. He was quite vocal in his distaste of Derek's hobo lifestyle.
“One last thing” Chris turned back to Stiles. “You've been taking magic lessons from Deaton, correct?”
“Mmmmaybe?” Stiles shifted uncomfortably. Chris correctly interpreted this as 'yes'.
“I will not be telling any other hunters about that,” Chris said. “It would be best if you kept it as much a secret as possible, too. Just as my family hunts werewolves, there are others who hunt magic users.”
“What?” Stiles yelped. “No one ever mentioned that!”
“Calm down,” Peter reached over and placed a hand on the back of Stiles' neck. It was strangely comforting. “You haven't done anything that would draw attention.”
“No,” Chris shook his head, “but you need to maintain your anonymity for as long as possible.” He paused, then seemed to come to a decision. “Stiles, very few people are born with the ability to use magic. Most who wield that power came into it by making a deal with some creature or other, and most hunters won't take the time to check.”
“You believe me though, right?” Stiles asked, trying to control the tremor in his voice.
“Yes,” Chris nodded. “I'd like to think I've grown past my father's teachings.” Here Chris leaned forward, elbows on his kneed, to look Stiles in the eye. “Unless you pose a legitimate threat to civilians, I will do my best to protect you.” After a beat, he sighed. “The same goes for the rest of your pack. You have my word.”
Stiles swallowed hard, then nodded. These negotiations were giving him a lot to think about.
Stiles lay back on Scott's couch as Peter filled the rest of the pack in on the terms of the truce. It was going pretty well - until, of course, Scott asked about Allison.
“So can I see her?” He asked, and Stiles bit his tongue to keep from swearing.
“No,” Peter shook his head, but elaborated before Scott could pitch a hissy fit. “It's not you being a werewolf that's the problem. Well, not any more it isn't. It's that she was mentally and emotionally manipulated by someone she trusted. Argent's put her in therapy to try and deal with some of the things Gerard did to her. Until she's stable again, it's best if you don't see each other romantically.”
“I agreed to it too,” Stiles spoke up. “Seriously, she's in a bad place. Let her deal with her shit first, then you can go back to being grossly co-dependant.”
For several moments Scot looked torn, then huffed and fell back in his seat next to Stiles, arms crossed like a petulant child. Stiles rolled his eyes and poked his friend in the side with his foot until he could see a faint grin. That was enough.
Honestly though, Stiles was a little disappointed that Scott and Allison couldn't be together. After all, it narrowed down his options when it came to the whole ritual bonding thing. He had no romantic feelings for either of his friends, but he knew he'd gladly bind himself to them if it came down to it. He and Scott already knew pretty much everything about each other. Permanently becoming a triad with Allison would have been an easy way to fix the problem. He could see where Chris was coming from though.
Even though it had been several months since Gerard's death, Allison was still having a hard time adjusting. For a long time she'd refused to face the truth about the events surrounding her mother's death, and the fact that she'd been manipulated by a deranged man. It was only in the last few weeks that Allison's mask of rage at the world had started to break, and she'd started to let her father help her.
In Stiles' mind, that was one reason why she and Derek butted heads so often. They really were similar in the way they dealt with things sometimes.
“Well done,” Derek nodded his head, looking between Stiles and Peter. “That all sounds satisfactory. I expect all of you to keep to the agreements. We really can't afford to fight the hunters as well as the Alphas.”
There were exchanged looks as everyone digest the various terms of the treaty. Personally, Stiles thought that Chris had been exceedingly generous towards the wolves. They would be allowed to have a safe haven, the hunters would stay away from their homes and the high school - except, of course, for when Chris had Allison-related business there. The hunters would continue to patrol the woods, as would Derek and Peter, but the two groups would agree to avoid each other. There were other details, of course, but it was all pretty simple. Stiles found it hard to believe that had been so easy.
“That all sounds well and good,” Lydia spoke up then, “but what about me?”
“You've got a bit more leeway,” Stiles assured her “Like me. As far as the hunters are concerned, you're a human they should treat with respect. They know that you can keep Jackson under control, but that's it. They don't know that you're immune, and we're not telling anyone.
“That's another thing,” Peter commented. “Argent knows about Stiles'… extra-curricular activities. None of the other hunters do, and we want to keep it that way. As long as no one else outside the pack knows, he won't be a target to other hunters that pass through.”
“That and we've got an extra ace up our sleeve,” Stiles grinned. “An extra weapon that anyone attacking the pack won't be expecting.”
“Now that sounds like a good idea,” Lydia nodded. “I'm sure they have plenty of secrets, we need to make sure we have our own ways to surprise any potential enemies.”
Stiles glanced away from her and towards Derek instead. Ever since the whole Jackson-resurrection thing, he'd been making a concerted effort to change the way he'd acted around Lydia. He'd realised that his actions had, at times, bordered on Matt-levels of creepy. Anyway, Lydia's love for Jackson was pretty clear. Stiles wasn't going to get between them. So instead he'd been trying to distance himself until he could get his feelings under control. To his surprise, it actually wasn't that difficult. Somewhere along the line he'd stopped actually loving Lydia, if he ever had, and had fallen for the image she represented. He had high hopes that in the future they'd be able to be friends.
Derek nodded at Stiles when he noticed the teen's gaze, then glanced around at the rest of the pack.
“That's it then. If there are no more questions, everyone get back to your own homes. Keep your heads down and try not to provoke anyone.”
There was a chorus of assent, and the pack broke up.
Part Two
“Hm, sage, rowan, mistletoe... Ah! That's it!” Before the flames died away, Stiles sprinkled the powdered snake fang he'd gotten from Deaton over the top in a spiral leading out. That's what was missing. He stepped away again and closed his eyes, focusing on what he wanted to happen.
“What the hell, kid?” A strange voice spoke then, and Stiles opened his eyes before letting out a whoop.
Where before had been the burning items, there was now a man. He was a little shorter than Stiles, with light brown hair and eyes, and his clothing was pretty nondescript. Even as a human, however, it was easy for Stiles to feel the sheer power pouring off of him. Then the stranger snapped his fingers, and it was all contained again. Stiles was still grinning widely, amazed that he'd pulled it off.
“You... summoned me?” The man tilted his head to one side, apparently confused. “Huh. Well, that's one way of getting out of... Anyway. Congrats kid, you managed to summon Loki. What do you want, and what'll you give me in return?”
“I... oh, whoops,” Stiles's grin died a little and he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I was, well... just seeing if I could do it. I kinda... forgot to plan further than that...”
Loki stared at him for a moment, then started to laugh.
“I like you, kid. And you got me out of a tight situation with that summoning, so I'm gonna go easy on you.” He wandered over to a fallen log, wrinkled his nose in disgust, then snapped his fingers. The log disappeared and was replaced by a very comfortable looking couch. “C'mon, sit with me. Explain what's going on that you decided that trying to summon me was a fun thing to do.”
“Okay,” Stiles agreed amicably. He really had gotten so wrapped up in whether it was even possible to summon someone that he'd neglected to think about what would happen if he succeeded. Truthfully, he'd doubted that it was even possible, but his powers had been growing stronger ever since Deaton had started lending him proper books on magical theory, and Peter had occasionally been giving him lessons in practical magic.
“So... where to start,” he mused. Loki just snapped his fingers and produced a pair of lollipops, handing one to Stiles and sticking the other in his own mouth. “Thanks. So, about eighteen months ago my best friend got bitten by a rogue werewolf...”
For the next hour, Stiles detailed what had happened in Beacon Hills. He sometimes went off on a tangent, which Loki always followed until they got back to the original topic. Eventually he came to the present.
“After a bit of bitching, Jackson agreed to join Derek's pack, which is good. Lydia's taking out Peter's debt to her in shopping trips and information, and figured out how to make wolfsbane-based pepper spray in case he pisses her off again. Gerard's body disappeared, I'm not entirely sure what to think of that. And now there's a whole freakin' pack of Alphas circling town. They left a dead squirrel on my jeep's hood a couple days ago, so clearly they know that I'm werewolf-adjacent.”
“You sure it's not someone trying to court you?” Loki asked, looking perfectly innocent. Stiles poked his tongue out in retalliation.
“Anyway, they really hurt Isaac. No word from Erica or Boyd, so... I'm hoping that they got out of town before the Alphas got them. Derek's as close to panicking as I've ever seen him, and, well... if we don't find a way of getting rid of them, we're fucked. Proper fucked.”
“Hm,” Loki hummed as he nodded, eyes looking far off. Stiles bit his lip to keep from speaking, trying to let the being beside him think. Every now and then he sipped the soda that Loki had snapped up for him when his voice had started hurting, in an effort not to fidget.
“This Alpha pack sounds shifty as all Hell,” Loki finally spoke. “I really shouldn't get involved in something like this, since technically the Weres are my grand-kids.”
“Descended from Fenris, right?” Stiles sat up, attention piqued. “I knew it! I mean, there's been stuff about werewolves in all sorts of cultures, but I just had this feeling that it was something to do with you and Fenris and Scandinavian lore.”
“Smart kid,” Loki grinned at him. “Anyway, while I don't want to get directly involved in their squabbles, there's nothing to prevent me from giving a fledgeling mage a little advice.” He paused, then reached out and grabbed Stiles' left hand. Loki drew a triskellion - why was it always triskellions with wolves? - with his finger on the inside of Stiles' wrist, leaving behind a silvery glow that tingled. Once it was done, he tapped each spiral.
“Werewolf, Hunter, Mage. There's a powerful ritual that binds these three together. When they come together as equals, they are damn near indestructible. The barriers come down, they join together in common cause, and can access each other's strengths. If you can bring together a hunter and a werewolf, you'll be able to defeat any enemy and protect your town.”
Stiles stared at the pattern on his skin as it slowly faded, feeling as though it was sinking into his very being. He glanced up at Loki's face, finding the demi-god's eyes trained on his.
“You're very young, but I think you can do this. You need to think carefully though. If you go down this route, you'll be tied to the other two for the rest of your lives. It's unlikely that any of you will form significant relationships outside of your bonds to each other. You need to be sure before you complete the bond. This cannot be entered into lightly.”
Breath caught in his throat, heart pounding, Stiles nodded. The bond that Loki spoke of seemed to loom in the back of his mind, a foreboding presence that he would need to think about. But it was an option, which was more than he'd had earlier that day.
“I understand,” Stiles confirmed when he could speak again. “How do I complete the ritual?”
Loki leaned back, a downright evil-looking smirk crossing his face. Stiles couldn't help the blush that rose as he swore he could feel Loki's gaze running over him.
“It's a lot of fun. Trust me, you'll enjoy it. Now, how do you feel about group sex?”
“How about I rip off your arm and shove it up your-”
“Okay!” Stiles interrupted before Derek could finish his threat. “Okay dude, let's take five and we'll start again at quarter past?”
“Agreed,” Chris Argent nodded before Allison could comment. “We will consider a more appropriate action.”
Stiles shot the man a thankful grin before grabbing Derek's arm. The alpha allowed Stiles to drag him outside, though he was quite clearly not happy about it. When they got out into Stiles' back yard, Peter was already leaning against the wall, waiting.
“Let me guess,” Peter smiled at them. “Our fearless leader went and lost his temper. Shocking.”
“Peter-”
“Shut up, both of you,” Stiles snapped. “Look, Derek, I get that this is hard for you. But we need to form a truce, even if it's just until we deal with the alpha pack. We can't fight a war on two fronts.”
Derek glared for a moment, then sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face.
“I know,” he muttered. “I just... She gets under my skin. After everything she's done, I can't trust her.”
Stiles flopped down onto the grass, trying to think of a solution. He hadn't told anyone about his meeting with Loki - hell, he was still trying to figure out if it was worth it to bind himself to two people to deal with the problem. Loki had accepted that and had disappeared, claiming that he had people to track down.
Before things had gotten too crazy, Stiles had managed to convince Scott that he was safest working with Derek - partly so that they could keep an eye on Peter - but things were still tense there. Surprisingly Derek didn't actually seem to mind Stiles tagging along, even going as far as acknowledging that he and Scott were a two-for-one deal. Even so, they were down in numbers with just Derek, Scott, Peter, Isaac, and Jackson. Lydia was as much pack as Stiles was, but neither of them were fighters. They were the tacticians of the group. Lydia worked out where to point Jackson, and he would apply his muscles to the situation - which wasn't that dissimilar to how their relationship had always been, Stiles figured.
It hadn't been until the alpha pack started leaving tokens at his and Lydia's houses that Stiles put his foot down. After several days of constant pestering, Derek had agreed to meet with the Argents in an attempt to join forces and take down the alpha pack. Allison had agreed as long as the meeting took place at Stiles' house, which was the closest thing to neutral ground they had.
All of which had lead to this point. It was becoming increasingly clear that Derek and Allison could not have a civil discussion, even when their lives could well depend on it.
“I might have a suggestion,” Peter spoke after several seconds of silence. “That is, if you're willing to hear me out.”
“Go for it,” Sties sighed. “I don't think you could say much worse than what Derek's tried. Unless you're about to suggest killing everyone, in which case I call veto.”
“He's not going to suggest killing everyone,” Derek rolled his eyes, but Stiles was pretty sure he detected a faint tremor of uncertainty in his next words. “...Are you?”
“Of course not,” Peter waved a hand dismissively. “I tried that already. Didn't work, remember? I was actually going to suggest that you and Allison should head to your respective homes and leave the negotiating to the rest of us.”
“How is that a good idea? Stiles exclaimed. “You don't trust the Argents any more than Derek, and they hate you just as much! Maybe even more!”
“Which is why you'll stay,” Peter replied calmly. “My interest is in staying alive, and to do that I need the pack to be safe. Argent's interest is in killing the Alphas. Your interest is protecting the town and civilians. Correct?”
“Well, I... I guess, yeah,” Stiles blinked.
“Between the three of us we can work something out,” Peter smiled. “And I'm sure you can keep us on track instead of getting bogged down in who killed who.”
“You have met me, right?” Stile muttered, even as he shrugged in agreement. “Staying on topic isn't really my strong point.”
“Stiles,” Derek finally spoke up, looking at the teen. “Are you okay being alone with them?”
“Yeah, I'll be fine,” Stiles grinned and waved off Derek's concern. “You okay with us negotiating for you?”
“With you tempering Peter it should be okay,” Derek nodded. “Clearly I'm not getting anywhere. You're better at words than I am.”
“Yeah, you prefer to bite your problems until they go away,” Stiles joked, unable to help himself. He dodged back from the half-hearted snap of teeth Derek sent his way - the guy was getting much better at toning own the violence around the humans - and headed back inside. “Coming, Zombiewolf?”
“Right behind you,” Peter whispered in his ear, causing Stiles to jolt forward and slap at the side of his head.
“Don't do that!” He glared back over his shoulder. “Seriously, you all need freakin' bells!”
Peter merely smiled in response.
“I have your word that Derek will turn no one else?” Chris asked, eyes flicking between Stiles and Peter.
“Absolutely,” Stiles nodded. “No more wayward pups.”
“With Scott and I joining his pack,” Peter interjected to elaborate, “Derek has a large enough pack to soothe his instincts. His whole effort is now going into securing his territory. If there are to be any further additions to the pack, it will be after the area is peaceful.”
“Very well,” Chris nodded. “And you Stiles?”
“Huh? And me, what?”
“Will you be asking for the bite?” Chris elaborated with a slight twist of his lips. “You probably have a better idea of what it would mean than most.”
“Yeah, uh... no,” Stiles shook his head emphatically. “Not gonna happen. I'm badass enough as a human. Don't need the urge to kill messing up my thriving social life every full moon.”
“That's good to hear,” Chris commented dryly, even as Stiles saw Peter smirk at him. “Now, Isaac has never harmed a human, correct?”
“Neither has Scott,” Stiles nodded. “And Jackson was being controlled, so I think he should get a pass on that.”
“I know. Now I'm not sure how you wolves see it,” Chris shot a glance at Peter, “but I would prefer it if all of the kids were kept out of fights. At least as much as is practical.”
“I agree,” Peter nodded before Stiles could object. “There will be times they will have to defend themselves, but I would rather they do not take part in offensive strikes.”
“Hey!” Stiles interrupted, glaring at the two adults. “In case you've forgotten, one of those 'kids' is sitting right here. And really, we all stopped being kids a long time before this supernatural shit started.”
“Stiles,” Chris held out a hand in a placating manner. “You misunderstand. I'm not saying you can't fight. I'm saying that you shouldn't have to.”
“Exactly,” Peter agreed - which Stiles would boggle over later. “The Alpha Pack is ruthless and savage, but they are also clever. None of you should have to go up against wolves who won't think twice about killing you. You've already proven you have the strength and courage to fight if you have to. We just don't want you to have to.”
Stiles made himself stop and think about what the men were saying. Put like that, it made sense. They were just trying to protect him and his friends, both the wolfy kind and non-wolfy.
“Okay,” Stiles nodded, breaking through the silent looks the men were giving each other. “I can see your point. I'll agree to us keeping out of the front lines on the proviso that we are not to be kept in the dark information-wise. Plans are to be shared and discussed.” When it looked like Chris might object, Stiles hurried on. “That's as much about protecting us as anything else,” he reassured the hunter. “We need to know where shit's going down so we can avoid the area. 'Cause Scott and I especially have the worst luck about being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“He has a point,” Peter mused, leaning back in his chair.
“How about this,” Chris suggested. “Leave Scott and Isaac out of it. Allison, too, and whatever other kids Derek's collected.” Stiles stifled a laugh at Chris' phrasing. No matter how true, it was still funny how Derek attracted teenagers as though they were his ducklings. “Stiles, you will be told the details of any planned attacks. It will then be up to you as to how much information the others need to know. It will also give you advance notice in case you need to keep your father away from somewhere.”
Stiles swallowed hard, but nodded. At the moment it was simply safest for the sheriff to be kept in the dark. The second he was able to, though, Stiles was completely prepared to spill his guts.
“Okay,” he acquiesced. “So, what else do we need to cover?”
“Not much,” Chris looked over the notes he'd been making. “The three of us will continue to meet and share information on a weekly basis. This house and Deaton's clinic are neutral territory.
“Agreed,” Peter nodded. “Our wolves will stay away from your home and your hunters' homes, your hunters will stay away from Derek's... space and the rest of the packs' homes.” Stiles tried not to laugh at the look on Peter's face. He was quite vocal in his distaste of Derek's hobo lifestyle.
“One last thing” Chris turned back to Stiles. “You've been taking magic lessons from Deaton, correct?”
“Mmmmaybe?” Stiles shifted uncomfortably. Chris correctly interpreted this as 'yes'.
“I will not be telling any other hunters about that,” Chris said. “It would be best if you kept it as much a secret as possible, too. Just as my family hunts werewolves, there are others who hunt magic users.”
“What?” Stiles yelped. “No one ever mentioned that!”
“Calm down,” Peter reached over and placed a hand on the back of Stiles' neck. It was strangely comforting. “You haven't done anything that would draw attention.”
“No,” Chris shook his head, “but you need to maintain your anonymity for as long as possible.” He paused, then seemed to come to a decision. “Stiles, very few people are born with the ability to use magic. Most who wield that power came into it by making a deal with some creature or other, and most hunters won't take the time to check.”
“You believe me though, right?” Stiles asked, trying to control the tremor in his voice.
“Yes,” Chris nodded. “I'd like to think I've grown past my father's teachings.” Here Chris leaned forward, elbows on his kneed, to look Stiles in the eye. “Unless you pose a legitimate threat to civilians, I will do my best to protect you.” After a beat, he sighed. “The same goes for the rest of your pack. You have my word.”
Stiles swallowed hard, then nodded. These negotiations were giving him a lot to think about.
Stiles lay back on Scott's couch as Peter filled the rest of the pack in on the terms of the truce. It was going pretty well - until, of course, Scott asked about Allison.
“So can I see her?” He asked, and Stiles bit his tongue to keep from swearing.
“No,” Peter shook his head, but elaborated before Scott could pitch a hissy fit. “It's not you being a werewolf that's the problem. Well, not any more it isn't. It's that she was mentally and emotionally manipulated by someone she trusted. Argent's put her in therapy to try and deal with some of the things Gerard did to her. Until she's stable again, it's best if you don't see each other romantically.”
“I agreed to it too,” Stiles spoke up. “Seriously, she's in a bad place. Let her deal with her shit first, then you can go back to being grossly co-dependant.”
For several moments Scot looked torn, then huffed and fell back in his seat next to Stiles, arms crossed like a petulant child. Stiles rolled his eyes and poked his friend in the side with his foot until he could see a faint grin. That was enough.
Honestly though, Stiles was a little disappointed that Scott and Allison couldn't be together. After all, it narrowed down his options when it came to the whole ritual bonding thing. He had no romantic feelings for either of his friends, but he knew he'd gladly bind himself to them if it came down to it. He and Scott already knew pretty much everything about each other. Permanently becoming a triad with Allison would have been an easy way to fix the problem. He could see where Chris was coming from though.
Even though it had been several months since Gerard's death, Allison was still having a hard time adjusting. For a long time she'd refused to face the truth about the events surrounding her mother's death, and the fact that she'd been manipulated by a deranged man. It was only in the last few weeks that Allison's mask of rage at the world had started to break, and she'd started to let her father help her.
In Stiles' mind, that was one reason why she and Derek butted heads so often. They really were similar in the way they dealt with things sometimes.
“Well done,” Derek nodded his head, looking between Stiles and Peter. “That all sounds satisfactory. I expect all of you to keep to the agreements. We really can't afford to fight the hunters as well as the Alphas.”
There were exchanged looks as everyone digest the various terms of the treaty. Personally, Stiles thought that Chris had been exceedingly generous towards the wolves. They would be allowed to have a safe haven, the hunters would stay away from their homes and the high school - except, of course, for when Chris had Allison-related business there. The hunters would continue to patrol the woods, as would Derek and Peter, but the two groups would agree to avoid each other. There were other details, of course, but it was all pretty simple. Stiles found it hard to believe that had been so easy.
“That all sounds well and good,” Lydia spoke up then, “but what about me?”
“You've got a bit more leeway,” Stiles assured her “Like me. As far as the hunters are concerned, you're a human they should treat with respect. They know that you can keep Jackson under control, but that's it. They don't know that you're immune, and we're not telling anyone.
“That's another thing,” Peter commented. “Argent knows about Stiles'… extra-curricular activities. None of the other hunters do, and we want to keep it that way. As long as no one else outside the pack knows, he won't be a target to other hunters that pass through.”
“That and we've got an extra ace up our sleeve,” Stiles grinned. “An extra weapon that anyone attacking the pack won't be expecting.”
“Now that sounds like a good idea,” Lydia nodded. “I'm sure they have plenty of secrets, we need to make sure we have our own ways to surprise any potential enemies.”
Stiles glanced away from her and towards Derek instead. Ever since the whole Jackson-resurrection thing, he'd been making a concerted effort to change the way he'd acted around Lydia. He'd realised that his actions had, at times, bordered on Matt-levels of creepy. Anyway, Lydia's love for Jackson was pretty clear. Stiles wasn't going to get between them. So instead he'd been trying to distance himself until he could get his feelings under control. To his surprise, it actually wasn't that difficult. Somewhere along the line he'd stopped actually loving Lydia, if he ever had, and had fallen for the image she represented. He had high hopes that in the future they'd be able to be friends.
Derek nodded at Stiles when he noticed the teen's gaze, then glanced around at the rest of the pack.
“That's it then. If there are no more questions, everyone get back to your own homes. Keep your heads down and try not to provoke anyone.”
There was a chorus of assent, and the pack broke up.
Part Two