Fic: Little Red
Title: Little Red 3/?
Pairings: Derek/Stiles background Scott/Allison
Rating: PG-13 - NC-17 (Installments will be rated individually)
Spoilers: Everything up to the end of the season
Summary: For the prompt "Stiles gets bitten somehow while away with his dad, when he returns he tries to hide it from the others but his wolf has some very definite pack ideas for each of them particularly Derek"
Disclaimer: I own nothing
A/N: Massive thanks to el_gilliath for beta'ing. Also I'm going along with Genim as Stiles' first name because Teen Wolf Wiki told me so :P. This post is really three chapters in one since I'm going to be swamped for a bit.
Stiles was on edge the next morning. He’d almost made himself sick twice and even his dad was giving him odd looks. Not that the Sheriff didn’t give Stiles odd looks all the time but these weren’t his “I know what you did but I’m going to let it slide” looks. No these were his “If you are up to something Genim Stilinski I will make you wish you were never born.” looks. Stiles really wasn’t a fan of that one.
“So I talked to your Aunt this morning. Apparently she’s really impressed by you.” His dad stated as they ate lunch.
Stiles tried to keep his grin genuine. Of course she was impressed by him; he was her last chance of spreading her werewolf cooties on to the next generation.
“Yeah, I’m pretty awesome,” he muttered, biting into his bacon sandwich with relish. He was going to enjoy every second of it since this was probably the last time he’d really appreciate cooked meat.
The Sheriff’s eyes narrowed and Stiles pasted on his most effective innocent face.
Swallowing the last of his sandwich he pushed himself to his feet with a fake yawn. “I’m going to take a nap. Catch you later dad.” He mumbled before all but fleeing the room.
He could feel his dad’s eyes on him the whole way.
*O*
Closing the door softly behind him Stiles collapsed unto his bed face first.
“Your last day as a human is always the worst,” a familiar voice whispered.
Sighing Stiles turned his head and found his Aunt standing by his dresser, eyes worried as they regarded him.
“I’m not going to off myself you now.” He muttered as she stepped closer.
“I never said that,” she said as she sat beside him. “It was the worst for me so I know what you’re going through.”
Stiles hummed eyes closing as he listened to her breath.
His eyes flew open as she shifted, stretching out beside him on the bed. For a second he tensed ready to pull away but then he recalled Derek’s habit of always touching him, Scott and Jackson. He’d guessed it was a werewolf thing since normal wolves tended to be extremely close.
“Tell me about the new Alpha of your pack” She whispered fingers stroking through his short hair and Stiles allowed himself to curl into her heat and familiar scent.
“The guy’s a nut job.” He snorted “He’s always angry. I mean he’s threatened me more times than I can count and I’m not that annoying.”
“But you like him?” she prodded
“What? No, not on his flea bitten life. I can’t stand the guy!” Stiles protested, ignoring the familiar curl of heat in his gut at just the thought of Derek Hale.
“You smell like you’ve been rolled in heat pheromones.” Caroline snickered and Stiles glared up at her
“There will be no talk of my pheromones, hot or cold.”
She shrugged, eyes dancing with mirth but remained blissfully silent.
“You remind me of your mother so much.” She finally murmured
Stiles blinked, eyes burning at her words. No one talked about his mom anymore, not even his dad. Sometimes Stiles felt like she’d been someone he’d made up in his head, an imaginary friend whose face faded more and more with the passing years.
“Yeah?” he inquired, voice husky with unshed tears.
“She’d have been proud of the man you’ve grown into.” His aunt stated, voice firm.
Stiles exhaled slowly, his chest ached and he could feel his throat locking. Shifting even closer to his Aunt he inhaled the scent of pines that seemed ever present on her, letting it pull familiar memories to the fore of his mind as tears slid silently down his face.
His aunt made a small sound as she wrapped her arms around him. It took him a few minutes to make out her words as his blood pounded in his ears.
Good night my angel time to close you eyes
And save these questions for another day
I think I know what you've been asking me
I think you know what I've been trying to say
Stiles allowed her voice to lull him into sleep, where the memories of his mother welcomed him with open arms.
*O*
Stiles shivered as he stood beside his Aunt in the woods behind the villa. What little light the moon cast made the area even more eerie, as it sent shadows dancing at the corner of Stiles’ eyes.
“Couldn’t we do this inside, where it’s warm and I’m less likely to die of hyperthermia?” he whined.
“For the last time, no.” his aunt huffed as she gazed out into the darkness. “While it would be more comfortable you need the scent of nature to ground you during the change.”
Stiles glared at the dirt around him, as if it had committed some personal offence.
“What if I don’t want to be grounded in nature?” he muttered petulantly “I could want to be grounded in sandalwood and silk. I think all this nature and roughing it is the reason most werewolves are nuts.”
His Aunt glared at him.
“Not that I’m saying you’re insane or anything.” Stiles hastily added “You seem like a well balanced werewolf bent on destroying what little normalcy I can lay claim to.”
“Do you always babble this much when you’re nervous?” she chuckled
“Who says I’m nervous? I’m not nervous. You’re just going to take a huge chunk out of one of my extremities to ensure I turn into a ferocious man-wolf. What’s there to be nervous about?”
“I can see why you annoy this Derek of yours.”
“Ok, one.” Stiles frowned holding up a finger “Derek is not, was not and shall never be mine. I don’t even like the guy like that….” Caroline snorted but Stiles ignored her, instead unbending a second finger “Also Derek Hale should be grateful I let him listen to my dulcet tone. Come to think of it, I don’t even know why I still talk to the guy anyway…”
“Stiles.” His aunt called halting his rant.
Turning he caught sight of her eyes, red pupils fixed on his face, and swallowed.
“Ok, this is going to hurt like a very respectable female dog isn’t it?”
Caroline nodded, pulling him closer to her.
Stiles took a deep breath as her head bent to his neck, gritting his teeth as he felt her fangs slice through his skin.
She pulled back a moment later and he heaved a sigh of relief “That wasn’t so…” he paused, hand flying to the now throbbing wound.
He could feel his pulse in his neck. Every beat of his heart sent tingle radiating outwards from the spot. Then it began to burn. Stiles’ fingers curled clenching at the skin surrounding the wound as if to stop the pain spreading through his entire body but it raged like a forest fire.
It felt like his skin was being scoured by a thousand needles and his body convulsed, muscles twisting as if to escape from the agony. His mouth fell open in a silent scream as he fell to the ground.
Jerking he dug his nails into the earth as something rippled along his spine. His back cracked. He could feel every vertebra pulling taught as his organs warped and this time he did scream. The human sound tapering off into a forlorn howl as the world around him faded to black.
*O*
Stiles was in that strange place in between dreaming and being awake. He’d been in the woods but he wasn’t there now. He was in a bed, it was warm but it wasn’t what he wanted. The sheets smelled of detergent and lavender and not of home.
Wrong, wrong, wrong!
Slipping from the bed Stiles followed the home scent down the hall. He paused at the door that kept him from it, head cocked as he regarded the wooden barrier in confusion. Pushing against it he almost yipped in delight when it moved letting him closer to the thing that smelled like home.
The smell was strongest on the body lying on a bed in the middle of the room and Stiles quickly crawled closer. Cuddling into the other that smelled like gunpowder and woods, he quickly fell asleep.
Beside him the Sheriff stared in shock at his son before his lips stretched into a fond smile.
*O*
Stiles yawned and stretched before opening his eyes slowly, so that he could gauge how much hatred the sun was currently flinging at him via way too bright sun rays.
Freezing he blinked again.
Then one more time before shutting his eyes firmly because there was no way his life was this much of a clusterfuck!
“Stiles.” His dad prodded .
“I can’t talk to you right now dad, I’m dreaming.” Stiles calmly responded, fighting back the blush that was currently heating his cheeks. The last time he’d crawled into bed with his dad his mom had still been alive, so this was definitely not happening!
The sheriff chuckled softly “You’re not asleep.”
“How do you know that?” Stiles shot back “If I was asleep you’d be a figment of my imagination, so you’d probably think you were real.”
“I could pinch you to prove it.” His dad offered and Stiles flinched away opening his eyes just enough to glare at him.
“What’s with the threats of physical violence? I bruise easily, you know!”
The sheriff’s brow furrowed “Is there something you want to talk about?”
“By talk about, do you mean forget this ever happened?” Stiles queried.
The look he got was response enough.
“I’ll take that as a no, then” he sighed before sitting up.
“Your aunt told me you’ve been talking about your mom.” The sheriff murmured eyes downcast.
Stiles shrugged “It’s nothing.”
“No, Genim it is. I should’ve talked more about her, told you things you never knew but…” His father’s voice trailed off as he glanced away “I’m glad your aunt could do what I couldn’t.”
Stiles shuffled closer and ruffled his dad’s hair with a sad grin. “It’s ok. Seriously I get it.”
The sheriff stared at him for a moment “She would’ve been proud of you,” he murmured “Just like I am.”
Stiles swallowed, it had been hard enough hearing the words from his aunt.
“And I know how much my job worries you but I promise I’ll be careful.” His dad vowed and Stiles grinned as his hand slid to his unmarked neck.
Nothing was going to happen to his father, not if he could prevent it.
*O*
Stiles was in serious danger of dying from sensory overload! Everything was just so new and interesting that he had to investigate.
It felt a little like when he’d forgotten his pills, his mind skipped from focus to focus so fast it almost made him nauseous.
He could smell the paint on the walls and the painters who had painted them.
The creaking of the wooden walls was so loud that he found himself flinching away from them until he realised that they were just settling.
His lunch had been like a mini orgy on his tongue that afternoon and the cook had watched him with fond eyes as he skipped from flavour to flavour.
He could smell people’s scents overlapping on each other as well. It had taken him a few minutes to work out what degree of scent meant they’d simply touched or been doing the nasty. That one hadn’t been so much of a pleasant experience. He was never going to be able to look at Igor and the gardener the same way again. There wasn’t enough brain bleach in the world to erase that!
But Stiles could honestly say that what he loved the most was his more physical changes. He’d taken to the woods as soon as he’d escaped the kitchen; seriously the cook had looked like she wanted to keep him there forever, Hansel and Gretel style.
The moment his sneakers had left the villa’s concrete pavements a constant chant of run, free, run began to beat in his head.
Before he knew what he was doing he’d stripped his shoes off, digging his toes into the damp soil surrounding him as the scents of the woods assailed his nose.
Stiles took a deep breath before jogging towards the trees. Everything bled away as he went faster and faster. The woods around him were silent and he grinned when he realised that the creatures were probably hiding from him.
Twisting he grabbed a branch that loomed in his vision. Using his momentum he swung himself up and unto the tree pausing for only a second before leaping unto another.
His rational mind slowed to a crawl as his body moved on instinct, muscles coiling and adjusting before propelling him higher and higher until there was nowhere else to go.
Panting Stiles glanced around him. His eyes widened as he took in his vantage point atop what seemed to be one of the largest tress in the whole forest.
Glancing down he swallowed hard. He knew theoretically that werewolves were hard to harm, he’d seen Derek and Scott spring back from enough injuries to be sure of that but…cocking his head he re-evaluated his position. Streams of information sparked through his mind, where to balance, what branches were too slippery to be gripped and Stiles grinned, flipping so that his legs were all that held him to his current perch as his fingers brushed the branch beneath it.
Inhaling slowly he opened his eyes and let go.
*O*
Aunt Caroline came to find him hours later, as the sun was dipping behind the trees.
Stiles glanced down at her from his perch with a grin. His wolf was overjoyed at her presence, the constant Alpha, pack, Alpha made him want to bowl her over and imprint her scent on his skin.
His expression must have given away his thoughts because she jumped unto the branch closest to his. Stiles watched wide eyed as she gracefully manoeuvred closer.
“I take it you approve?” she teased as she ran her fingers along his nape before ruffling his hair, where it had grown long enough to flop against his skin.
“You should’ve seen me!” Stiles gesticulated “I scaled most of the trees here like they were monkey bars. I mean yeah I got that wolves were agile but that, that was all kinds of awesome. Jacob Black eat your heart out!”
His aunt stared at him, puzzled “Who is Jacob Black?”
Stiles blinked and shuddered “Trust me; you’re better off not knowing.”
Giving him a strange look, she shrugged before alighting from their perch. “Since I don’t have to give you the “You’re a werewolf” talk, we can get started on your training.”
Hopping down, Stiles frowned “I don’t like that glint in your eye,” he protested “How hard is this training going to be? I’m not going to need to be housebroken am I? Because let me tell you right now that is one road the Stiles isn’t setting foot on!”
“Ok, the Stiles.” His aunt mocked as she set off .
Stiles scrambled to follow “What’s with the tone, are you mocking me? Is this it, I get turned into Rover and suddenly all sense of respect flies out the window? I’m not feeling the love Aunt Caro”
The answering laughter from before him made Stiles grin in response as they moved deeper into the forest.
*O*
Stiles gaped at the construction before him; it was like some sort of demented gym teacher’s wet dream. The area around it had been cordoned off, separated from the forest by what looked and smelt like an electric fence.
Turning back to his aunt he gave her a look of disbelief because there was no way he could complete that. Hell he might not even survive it!
Caroline simply smirked nodding towards what Stiles was now calling the death trap 2.0. Turning reluctantly back towards it he sighed when it hadn’t somehow become a regular monkey gym when his eyes flickered back to his aunt the smirk had grown.
“You don’t really expect me to…” he trailed off as his aunt grinned.
“Oh yeah.”
Stiles spluttered, hands gesturing erratically “I’m a wolf not a ninja!”
Caroline scoffed, shoving him forward “Stop being such a whiny little…”
Stiles chuckled nervously, cutting her off “You weren’t going to say what I think you were, right?”
She shrugged “A bitch is a bitch.”
“Oh my God, I thought it wasn’t possible but you might just be worse than Derek.” Stiles groaned eyeing her suspiciously “It’s the hormones isn’t it? They’ve done something wacky to your head. The whole red eyes thing is really your brains bleeding out from inside.”
Caroline shook her head. “Move it Stiles.” She ordered.
Stiles could hear a hum in the tone of her voice. It was something his wolf recognized as Alpha and it tucked its tail submissively, the gesture translating into the awkward hunch of Stiles’ shoulders.
Sighing he glanced back once more but his aunt face remained impassive. Not willing to get Fido any more worked up Stiles took off.
His first try was a disaster, as was the second and the third. By the fourth try he was so agitated that he found himself growling at his aunt when he returned to the starting point.
Caroline ignored his expression “Stop thinking!”
Stiles snarled at her as he slammed into another monkey bar.
He was freaking certain that the damn thing hadn’t been there before!
“You’re still thinking like a human Genim.” His aunt snapped “You’re not one anymore so cut it out!”
Stiles froze in the middle of the course and turned to her, stomping back to the beginning.
Exhaling sharply he sighed “I can’t do it.”
His aunt smirked “Oh yes you can, stop over thinking it!”
“It’s not like I’ve got an off switch.” He muttered, freezing as something niggled at the back of his mind.
The aggression, the need to please his alpha, that wasn’t him, that was….that was the wolf.
He replayed his aunt’s words. Huh, maybe….
Turning back he looked at the course, straight, ropes, monkey bars, wall, straight.
He’d been classifying the obstacles as a human and the wolf aggression was throwing him off balance.
His wolf only saw them as things to go over, under, rip through. There were no rules here.
He grinned as the canine presence unfolded in his mind, he could do this. His wolf gave a howl that echoed through his bones as he trudged back to the starting point.
He could do this.
Starting again, he allowed the wolf full control. There was nothing but the whisper of run, run urging him faster as he twisted and turned.
Crossing the final mark he panted as he stared at his aunt.
She gazed at him for a second before smiling slowly and Stiles grinned even as his legs gave out.
“I am so good.” He smirked, revelling in the wolf’s yips of joy.
Glancing up at his aunt he smiled softly “You know this whole wolf thing is kind of like MPD.”
She cocked her head curiously before grinning and settling cross-legged across from him.
“I guess in a way, though one of you is better than the other.”
“Hey, I was an awesome human!” Stiles protested “I kicked werewolf butt.”
“Uh huh.” His aunt hummed, tone disbelieving.
Stiles closed his eyes, content to just lay there. “You know you never told me, what was actually…” he trailed off cracking his eyes open just enough to see her.
She smiled sadly “Let’s just say having a hunter for a friend is a hazard.”
Stiles rolled over unto his side so that he could see her better “What do you mean?”
She glanced away, eyes distant “I got involved with one of the hunters. I’d had enough of being lonely.”
“He did this?” Stiles whispered voice cold as his wolf bared its teeth at the thought of it wrong, wrong!
His aunt sighed “See there’s a problem with hunters. When they let their guard down enough around a werewolf they become their own worst enemy. They start thinking am I being too soft, am I missing the signs? And sometimes they overlook things….they over think things. That’s what he did anyway,” she whispered tugging at her sleeve.
“What was it?” Stiles whispered, voice subdued as the pain in his aunt’s voice bled into his very bones.
“A new form of wolf’s bane, I’ve only survived this long because of the blood transfusions.” She responded
“What happened to him?”
She glanced up at the sky and grinned, lips pulled back in a snarl. “He’s dead.”
The human part of Stiles’ mind shuddered at the glee in her tone but the wolf part…The wolf understood.
*O*
Days later, Stiles felt like he had suffered through every known test that one could subject a werewolf to and he’d learnt a couple of things about his bloodline.
“So we can dull our scent?” he asked curiously
His aunt grinned “Yup.”
“How?”
She smirked at him, “Well our line usually produced female wolves. An alpha female was fine, all she’d need to do was find an unattached Alpha male, start a pack of her own or just join but if it’s a beta or omega female, not so fine because while the human understands consent the wolf doesn’t.”
Stiles’ face twisted “But that would be…that’s rape!”
Caroline shook her head “The wolf doesn’t understand consent Stiles, its only concern is the Alpha and the Alpha’s wants and needs because the Alpha’s wants and needs will always come first.”
Stiles frowned “Hey, wait a minute but I’m not a woman!”
His aunt grinned “I do believe the lady doth protest too much.”
Caroline had raged war against Stiles’ senses.
Stuffing her own nose as she somehow managed to amplify every scent in the villa to the point where Stiles almost passed out every time he ventured from his room.
Found the most foul foods to make Stiles try, all while cackling like a hag.
Stiles had come to the conclusion that he aunt was the devil incarnate and asparagus…asparagus was the enemy of every teenage werewolf ever!
But Stiles adapted. He got used to that itch beneath his skin that meant run, he got used to the constant need to be around pack, especially his father.
He loved the way the Sheriff’s face lit up whenever Stiles threw himself into the man’s personal space, making sure his scent was all over his dad.
Yet in the back of his mind, he knew his time was counting down because as much as she blustered about as usual, Stiles could see right through it.
His aunt was getting worse.
*O*
Stiles couldn’t decide if meeting his cousin the night before the full moon was just a colossal cock-up or whether it was karma’s way of getting back at him for every time he’d used werewolf puns around Derek and Scott. Not Jackson though, anything that dickhead got he had coming.
“I didn’t even want to be here.” The other teen was still prattling on, oblivious to the death grip Stiles had on the sofa cushion. It was the only thing stopping him from wrapping his fingers around the idiot’s throat and squeezing until he choked on every bad word he could say about Aunt Caro.
“I mean don’t you think she’s weird?” Matthew asked.
“You mean weirder than the people who traveled thousands of miles just to sit around and beg scraps at her deathbed?” Stiles smiled, and from the way his cousin flinched Stiles had probably flashed a hint of fang but hey technically he was a pup he couldn’t be blamed for his lack of control.
Matthew flushed in anger “What do you know anyway.”
Stiles shrugged as he rose from his seat “You were the one who asked dude; don’t get prissy because I told the truth.”
“Then why are you here?” Matthew sneered and Stiles stared at him for a moment.
There were so many way to answer the question but each of them held secrets Stiles either couldn’t or wouldn’t reveal.
“I’m here because she’s my mom’s sister, my aunt.” Stiles finally responded “Family means a lot to me, even the ones I could live without.”
Turning before the man could say another word Stiles strolled from the room.
*O*
The night of the full moon was much less dramatic than Stiles had thought it would have been.
Overall there had been a lot less skin ripping and a lot more chasing of his tail.
His aunt had watched him fondly, her auburn coat gleaming as she allowed Stiles to prance about.
Stiles had been surprised at his own form; an albino wolf was not what he’d expected to see when they’d paused at the river that bordered the villa’s property.
Though it made sense it was like nature itself was mocking his virginity!
The thought had made Stiles whine crossing his paws over his muzzle forlornly until his aunt had nipped at his flank, gesturing that it was time to return home.
*O*
Then that day had come.
Stiles sat on the bed in his borrowed room, facing the mirror as his ears picked up every sound from the downstairs bedroom.
Each, breathe and heartbeat was like a drum pounding in his head.
Aunt Caroline, Aunt Caroline, Alpha!
Then it stopped, and Stiles opened his eyes.
Blood red pupils filmed with tears stared back at him and he took a shuddering breath and curled around himself fighting down the need to howl his despair.
He could hear his father climbing the steps and he knew what he was about to hear.
Aunt Caroline was gone. His pack was gone. He was alone.
*O*
Stiles didn’t really remember the days leading up to the funeral.
They were just glimpses, flashes like watching a movie with bad reception.
He remembers the uproar at the reading of the will and punching Matthew hard enough to shatter the bones in the other teen’s face.
He remembers his dad yanking him away from them, away from the urge to rip their throats out for even thinking of disrespecting his dead alpha.
He remembered the drive home; he remembers finding the scent of pack.
Scott, Jackson, Derek!
His smile turned feral, he would honour his bloodline, and he would make his aunt proud.
He would be part of a pack.
Chapter 4
Pairings: Derek/Stiles background Scott/Allison
Rating: PG-13 - NC-17 (Installments will be rated individually)
Spoilers: Everything up to the end of the season
Summary: For the prompt "Stiles gets bitten somehow while away with his dad, when he returns he tries to hide it from the others but his wolf has some very definite pack ideas for each of them particularly Derek"
Disclaimer: I own nothing
A/N: Massive thanks to el_gilliath for beta'ing. Also I'm going along with Genim as Stiles' first name because Teen Wolf Wiki told me so :P. This post is really three chapters in one since I'm going to be swamped for a bit.
Stiles was on edge the next morning. He’d almost made himself sick twice and even his dad was giving him odd looks. Not that the Sheriff didn’t give Stiles odd looks all the time but these weren’t his “I know what you did but I’m going to let it slide” looks. No these were his “If you are up to something Genim Stilinski I will make you wish you were never born.” looks. Stiles really wasn’t a fan of that one.
“So I talked to your Aunt this morning. Apparently she’s really impressed by you.” His dad stated as they ate lunch.
Stiles tried to keep his grin genuine. Of course she was impressed by him; he was her last chance of spreading her werewolf cooties on to the next generation.
“Yeah, I’m pretty awesome,” he muttered, biting into his bacon sandwich with relish. He was going to enjoy every second of it since this was probably the last time he’d really appreciate cooked meat.
The Sheriff’s eyes narrowed and Stiles pasted on his most effective innocent face.
Swallowing the last of his sandwich he pushed himself to his feet with a fake yawn. “I’m going to take a nap. Catch you later dad.” He mumbled before all but fleeing the room.
He could feel his dad’s eyes on him the whole way.
*O*
Closing the door softly behind him Stiles collapsed unto his bed face first.
“Your last day as a human is always the worst,” a familiar voice whispered.
Sighing Stiles turned his head and found his Aunt standing by his dresser, eyes worried as they regarded him.
“I’m not going to off myself you now.” He muttered as she stepped closer.
“I never said that,” she said as she sat beside him. “It was the worst for me so I know what you’re going through.”
Stiles hummed eyes closing as he listened to her breath.
His eyes flew open as she shifted, stretching out beside him on the bed. For a second he tensed ready to pull away but then he recalled Derek’s habit of always touching him, Scott and Jackson. He’d guessed it was a werewolf thing since normal wolves tended to be extremely close.
“Tell me about the new Alpha of your pack” She whispered fingers stroking through his short hair and Stiles allowed himself to curl into her heat and familiar scent.
“The guy’s a nut job.” He snorted “He’s always angry. I mean he’s threatened me more times than I can count and I’m not that annoying.”
“But you like him?” she prodded
“What? No, not on his flea bitten life. I can’t stand the guy!” Stiles protested, ignoring the familiar curl of heat in his gut at just the thought of Derek Hale.
“You smell like you’ve been rolled in heat pheromones.” Caroline snickered and Stiles glared up at her
“There will be no talk of my pheromones, hot or cold.”
She shrugged, eyes dancing with mirth but remained blissfully silent.
“You remind me of your mother so much.” She finally murmured
Stiles blinked, eyes burning at her words. No one talked about his mom anymore, not even his dad. Sometimes Stiles felt like she’d been someone he’d made up in his head, an imaginary friend whose face faded more and more with the passing years.
“Yeah?” he inquired, voice husky with unshed tears.
“She’d have been proud of the man you’ve grown into.” His aunt stated, voice firm.
Stiles exhaled slowly, his chest ached and he could feel his throat locking. Shifting even closer to his Aunt he inhaled the scent of pines that seemed ever present on her, letting it pull familiar memories to the fore of his mind as tears slid silently down his face.
His aunt made a small sound as she wrapped her arms around him. It took him a few minutes to make out her words as his blood pounded in his ears.
Good night my angel time to close you eyes
And save these questions for another day
I think I know what you've been asking me
I think you know what I've been trying to say
Stiles allowed her voice to lull him into sleep, where the memories of his mother welcomed him with open arms.
*O*
Stiles shivered as he stood beside his Aunt in the woods behind the villa. What little light the moon cast made the area even more eerie, as it sent shadows dancing at the corner of Stiles’ eyes.
“Couldn’t we do this inside, where it’s warm and I’m less likely to die of hyperthermia?” he whined.
“For the last time, no.” his aunt huffed as she gazed out into the darkness. “While it would be more comfortable you need the scent of nature to ground you during the change.”
Stiles glared at the dirt around him, as if it had committed some personal offence.
“What if I don’t want to be grounded in nature?” he muttered petulantly “I could want to be grounded in sandalwood and silk. I think all this nature and roughing it is the reason most werewolves are nuts.”
His Aunt glared at him.
“Not that I’m saying you’re insane or anything.” Stiles hastily added “You seem like a well balanced werewolf bent on destroying what little normalcy I can lay claim to.”
“Do you always babble this much when you’re nervous?” she chuckled
“Who says I’m nervous? I’m not nervous. You’re just going to take a huge chunk out of one of my extremities to ensure I turn into a ferocious man-wolf. What’s there to be nervous about?”
“I can see why you annoy this Derek of yours.”
“Ok, one.” Stiles frowned holding up a finger “Derek is not, was not and shall never be mine. I don’t even like the guy like that….” Caroline snorted but Stiles ignored her, instead unbending a second finger “Also Derek Hale should be grateful I let him listen to my dulcet tone. Come to think of it, I don’t even know why I still talk to the guy anyway…”
“Stiles.” His aunt called halting his rant.
Turning he caught sight of her eyes, red pupils fixed on his face, and swallowed.
“Ok, this is going to hurt like a very respectable female dog isn’t it?”
Caroline nodded, pulling him closer to her.
Stiles took a deep breath as her head bent to his neck, gritting his teeth as he felt her fangs slice through his skin.
She pulled back a moment later and he heaved a sigh of relief “That wasn’t so…” he paused, hand flying to the now throbbing wound.
He could feel his pulse in his neck. Every beat of his heart sent tingle radiating outwards from the spot. Then it began to burn. Stiles’ fingers curled clenching at the skin surrounding the wound as if to stop the pain spreading through his entire body but it raged like a forest fire.
It felt like his skin was being scoured by a thousand needles and his body convulsed, muscles twisting as if to escape from the agony. His mouth fell open in a silent scream as he fell to the ground.
Jerking he dug his nails into the earth as something rippled along his spine. His back cracked. He could feel every vertebra pulling taught as his organs warped and this time he did scream. The human sound tapering off into a forlorn howl as the world around him faded to black.
*O*
Stiles was in that strange place in between dreaming and being awake. He’d been in the woods but he wasn’t there now. He was in a bed, it was warm but it wasn’t what he wanted. The sheets smelled of detergent and lavender and not of home.
Wrong, wrong, wrong!
Slipping from the bed Stiles followed the home scent down the hall. He paused at the door that kept him from it, head cocked as he regarded the wooden barrier in confusion. Pushing against it he almost yipped in delight when it moved letting him closer to the thing that smelled like home.
The smell was strongest on the body lying on a bed in the middle of the room and Stiles quickly crawled closer. Cuddling into the other that smelled like gunpowder and woods, he quickly fell asleep.
Beside him the Sheriff stared in shock at his son before his lips stretched into a fond smile.
*O*
Stiles yawned and stretched before opening his eyes slowly, so that he could gauge how much hatred the sun was currently flinging at him via way too bright sun rays.
Freezing he blinked again.
Then one more time before shutting his eyes firmly because there was no way his life was this much of a clusterfuck!
“Stiles.” His dad prodded .
“I can’t talk to you right now dad, I’m dreaming.” Stiles calmly responded, fighting back the blush that was currently heating his cheeks. The last time he’d crawled into bed with his dad his mom had still been alive, so this was definitely not happening!
The sheriff chuckled softly “You’re not asleep.”
“How do you know that?” Stiles shot back “If I was asleep you’d be a figment of my imagination, so you’d probably think you were real.”
“I could pinch you to prove it.” His dad offered and Stiles flinched away opening his eyes just enough to glare at him.
“What’s with the threats of physical violence? I bruise easily, you know!”
The sheriff’s brow furrowed “Is there something you want to talk about?”
“By talk about, do you mean forget this ever happened?” Stiles queried.
The look he got was response enough.
“I’ll take that as a no, then” he sighed before sitting up.
“Your aunt told me you’ve been talking about your mom.” The sheriff murmured eyes downcast.
Stiles shrugged “It’s nothing.”
“No, Genim it is. I should’ve talked more about her, told you things you never knew but…” His father’s voice trailed off as he glanced away “I’m glad your aunt could do what I couldn’t.”
Stiles shuffled closer and ruffled his dad’s hair with a sad grin. “It’s ok. Seriously I get it.”
The sheriff stared at him for a moment “She would’ve been proud of you,” he murmured “Just like I am.”
Stiles swallowed, it had been hard enough hearing the words from his aunt.
“And I know how much my job worries you but I promise I’ll be careful.” His dad vowed and Stiles grinned as his hand slid to his unmarked neck.
Nothing was going to happen to his father, not if he could prevent it.
*O*
Stiles was in serious danger of dying from sensory overload! Everything was just so new and interesting that he had to investigate.
It felt a little like when he’d forgotten his pills, his mind skipped from focus to focus so fast it almost made him nauseous.
He could smell the paint on the walls and the painters who had painted them.
The creaking of the wooden walls was so loud that he found himself flinching away from them until he realised that they were just settling.
His lunch had been like a mini orgy on his tongue that afternoon and the cook had watched him with fond eyes as he skipped from flavour to flavour.
He could smell people’s scents overlapping on each other as well. It had taken him a few minutes to work out what degree of scent meant they’d simply touched or been doing the nasty. That one hadn’t been so much of a pleasant experience. He was never going to be able to look at Igor and the gardener the same way again. There wasn’t enough brain bleach in the world to erase that!
But Stiles could honestly say that what he loved the most was his more physical changes. He’d taken to the woods as soon as he’d escaped the kitchen; seriously the cook had looked like she wanted to keep him there forever, Hansel and Gretel style.
The moment his sneakers had left the villa’s concrete pavements a constant chant of run, free, run began to beat in his head.
Before he knew what he was doing he’d stripped his shoes off, digging his toes into the damp soil surrounding him as the scents of the woods assailed his nose.
Stiles took a deep breath before jogging towards the trees. Everything bled away as he went faster and faster. The woods around him were silent and he grinned when he realised that the creatures were probably hiding from him.
Twisting he grabbed a branch that loomed in his vision. Using his momentum he swung himself up and unto the tree pausing for only a second before leaping unto another.
His rational mind slowed to a crawl as his body moved on instinct, muscles coiling and adjusting before propelling him higher and higher until there was nowhere else to go.
Panting Stiles glanced around him. His eyes widened as he took in his vantage point atop what seemed to be one of the largest tress in the whole forest.
Glancing down he swallowed hard. He knew theoretically that werewolves were hard to harm, he’d seen Derek and Scott spring back from enough injuries to be sure of that but…cocking his head he re-evaluated his position. Streams of information sparked through his mind, where to balance, what branches were too slippery to be gripped and Stiles grinned, flipping so that his legs were all that held him to his current perch as his fingers brushed the branch beneath it.
Inhaling slowly he opened his eyes and let go.
*O*
Aunt Caroline came to find him hours later, as the sun was dipping behind the trees.
Stiles glanced down at her from his perch with a grin. His wolf was overjoyed at her presence, the constant Alpha, pack, Alpha made him want to bowl her over and imprint her scent on his skin.
His expression must have given away his thoughts because she jumped unto the branch closest to his. Stiles watched wide eyed as she gracefully manoeuvred closer.
“I take it you approve?” she teased as she ran her fingers along his nape before ruffling his hair, where it had grown long enough to flop against his skin.
“You should’ve seen me!” Stiles gesticulated “I scaled most of the trees here like they were monkey bars. I mean yeah I got that wolves were agile but that, that was all kinds of awesome. Jacob Black eat your heart out!”
His aunt stared at him, puzzled “Who is Jacob Black?”
Stiles blinked and shuddered “Trust me; you’re better off not knowing.”
Giving him a strange look, she shrugged before alighting from their perch. “Since I don’t have to give you the “You’re a werewolf” talk, we can get started on your training.”
Hopping down, Stiles frowned “I don’t like that glint in your eye,” he protested “How hard is this training going to be? I’m not going to need to be housebroken am I? Because let me tell you right now that is one road the Stiles isn’t setting foot on!”
“Ok, the Stiles.” His aunt mocked as she set off .
Stiles scrambled to follow “What’s with the tone, are you mocking me? Is this it, I get turned into Rover and suddenly all sense of respect flies out the window? I’m not feeling the love Aunt Caro”
The answering laughter from before him made Stiles grin in response as they moved deeper into the forest.
*O*
Stiles gaped at the construction before him; it was like some sort of demented gym teacher’s wet dream. The area around it had been cordoned off, separated from the forest by what looked and smelt like an electric fence.
Turning back to his aunt he gave her a look of disbelief because there was no way he could complete that. Hell he might not even survive it!
Caroline simply smirked nodding towards what Stiles was now calling the death trap 2.0. Turning reluctantly back towards it he sighed when it hadn’t somehow become a regular monkey gym when his eyes flickered back to his aunt the smirk had grown.
“You don’t really expect me to…” he trailed off as his aunt grinned.
“Oh yeah.”
Stiles spluttered, hands gesturing erratically “I’m a wolf not a ninja!”
Caroline scoffed, shoving him forward “Stop being such a whiny little…”
Stiles chuckled nervously, cutting her off “You weren’t going to say what I think you were, right?”
She shrugged “A bitch is a bitch.”
“Oh my God, I thought it wasn’t possible but you might just be worse than Derek.” Stiles groaned eyeing her suspiciously “It’s the hormones isn’t it? They’ve done something wacky to your head. The whole red eyes thing is really your brains bleeding out from inside.”
Caroline shook her head. “Move it Stiles.” She ordered.
Stiles could hear a hum in the tone of her voice. It was something his wolf recognized as Alpha and it tucked its tail submissively, the gesture translating into the awkward hunch of Stiles’ shoulders.
Sighing he glanced back once more but his aunt face remained impassive. Not willing to get Fido any more worked up Stiles took off.
His first try was a disaster, as was the second and the third. By the fourth try he was so agitated that he found himself growling at his aunt when he returned to the starting point.
Caroline ignored his expression “Stop thinking!”
Stiles snarled at her as he slammed into another monkey bar.
He was freaking certain that the damn thing hadn’t been there before!
“You’re still thinking like a human Genim.” His aunt snapped “You’re not one anymore so cut it out!”
Stiles froze in the middle of the course and turned to her, stomping back to the beginning.
Exhaling sharply he sighed “I can’t do it.”
His aunt smirked “Oh yes you can, stop over thinking it!”
“It’s not like I’ve got an off switch.” He muttered, freezing as something niggled at the back of his mind.
The aggression, the need to please his alpha, that wasn’t him, that was….that was the wolf.
He replayed his aunt’s words. Huh, maybe….
Turning back he looked at the course, straight, ropes, monkey bars, wall, straight.
He’d been classifying the obstacles as a human and the wolf aggression was throwing him off balance.
His wolf only saw them as things to go over, under, rip through. There were no rules here.
He grinned as the canine presence unfolded in his mind, he could do this. His wolf gave a howl that echoed through his bones as he trudged back to the starting point.
He could do this.
Starting again, he allowed the wolf full control. There was nothing but the whisper of run, run urging him faster as he twisted and turned.
Crossing the final mark he panted as he stared at his aunt.
She gazed at him for a second before smiling slowly and Stiles grinned even as his legs gave out.
“I am so good.” He smirked, revelling in the wolf’s yips of joy.
Glancing up at his aunt he smiled softly “You know this whole wolf thing is kind of like MPD.”
She cocked her head curiously before grinning and settling cross-legged across from him.
“I guess in a way, though one of you is better than the other.”
“Hey, I was an awesome human!” Stiles protested “I kicked werewolf butt.”
“Uh huh.” His aunt hummed, tone disbelieving.
Stiles closed his eyes, content to just lay there. “You know you never told me, what was actually…” he trailed off cracking his eyes open just enough to see her.
She smiled sadly “Let’s just say having a hunter for a friend is a hazard.”
Stiles rolled over unto his side so that he could see her better “What do you mean?”
She glanced away, eyes distant “I got involved with one of the hunters. I’d had enough of being lonely.”
“He did this?” Stiles whispered voice cold as his wolf bared its teeth at the thought of it wrong, wrong!
His aunt sighed “See there’s a problem with hunters. When they let their guard down enough around a werewolf they become their own worst enemy. They start thinking am I being too soft, am I missing the signs? And sometimes they overlook things….they over think things. That’s what he did anyway,” she whispered tugging at her sleeve.
“What was it?” Stiles whispered, voice subdued as the pain in his aunt’s voice bled into his very bones.
“A new form of wolf’s bane, I’ve only survived this long because of the blood transfusions.” She responded
“What happened to him?”
She glanced up at the sky and grinned, lips pulled back in a snarl. “He’s dead.”
The human part of Stiles’ mind shuddered at the glee in her tone but the wolf part…The wolf understood.
*O*
Days later, Stiles felt like he had suffered through every known test that one could subject a werewolf to and he’d learnt a couple of things about his bloodline.
“So we can dull our scent?” he asked curiously
His aunt grinned “Yup.”
“How?”
She smirked at him, “Well our line usually produced female wolves. An alpha female was fine, all she’d need to do was find an unattached Alpha male, start a pack of her own or just join but if it’s a beta or omega female, not so fine because while the human understands consent the wolf doesn’t.”
Stiles’ face twisted “But that would be…that’s rape!”
Caroline shook her head “The wolf doesn’t understand consent Stiles, its only concern is the Alpha and the Alpha’s wants and needs because the Alpha’s wants and needs will always come first.”
Stiles frowned “Hey, wait a minute but I’m not a woman!”
His aunt grinned “I do believe the lady doth protest too much.”
Caroline had raged war against Stiles’ senses.
Stuffing her own nose as she somehow managed to amplify every scent in the villa to the point where Stiles almost passed out every time he ventured from his room.
Found the most foul foods to make Stiles try, all while cackling like a hag.
Stiles had come to the conclusion that he aunt was the devil incarnate and asparagus…asparagus was the enemy of every teenage werewolf ever!
But Stiles adapted. He got used to that itch beneath his skin that meant run, he got used to the constant need to be around pack, especially his father.
He loved the way the Sheriff’s face lit up whenever Stiles threw himself into the man’s personal space, making sure his scent was all over his dad.
Yet in the back of his mind, he knew his time was counting down because as much as she blustered about as usual, Stiles could see right through it.
His aunt was getting worse.
*O*
Stiles couldn’t decide if meeting his cousin the night before the full moon was just a colossal cock-up or whether it was karma’s way of getting back at him for every time he’d used werewolf puns around Derek and Scott. Not Jackson though, anything that dickhead got he had coming.
“I didn’t even want to be here.” The other teen was still prattling on, oblivious to the death grip Stiles had on the sofa cushion. It was the only thing stopping him from wrapping his fingers around the idiot’s throat and squeezing until he choked on every bad word he could say about Aunt Caro.
“I mean don’t you think she’s weird?” Matthew asked.
“You mean weirder than the people who traveled thousands of miles just to sit around and beg scraps at her deathbed?” Stiles smiled, and from the way his cousin flinched Stiles had probably flashed a hint of fang but hey technically he was a pup he couldn’t be blamed for his lack of control.
Matthew flushed in anger “What do you know anyway.”
Stiles shrugged as he rose from his seat “You were the one who asked dude; don’t get prissy because I told the truth.”
“Then why are you here?” Matthew sneered and Stiles stared at him for a moment.
There were so many way to answer the question but each of them held secrets Stiles either couldn’t or wouldn’t reveal.
“I’m here because she’s my mom’s sister, my aunt.” Stiles finally responded “Family means a lot to me, even the ones I could live without.”
Turning before the man could say another word Stiles strolled from the room.
*O*
The night of the full moon was much less dramatic than Stiles had thought it would have been.
Overall there had been a lot less skin ripping and a lot more chasing of his tail.
His aunt had watched him fondly, her auburn coat gleaming as she allowed Stiles to prance about.
Stiles had been surprised at his own form; an albino wolf was not what he’d expected to see when they’d paused at the river that bordered the villa’s property.
Though it made sense it was like nature itself was mocking his virginity!
The thought had made Stiles whine crossing his paws over his muzzle forlornly until his aunt had nipped at his flank, gesturing that it was time to return home.
*O*
Then that day had come.
Stiles sat on the bed in his borrowed room, facing the mirror as his ears picked up every sound from the downstairs bedroom.
Each, breathe and heartbeat was like a drum pounding in his head.
Aunt Caroline, Aunt Caroline, Alpha!
Then it stopped, and Stiles opened his eyes.
Blood red pupils filmed with tears stared back at him and he took a shuddering breath and curled around himself fighting down the need to howl his despair.
He could hear his father climbing the steps and he knew what he was about to hear.
Aunt Caroline was gone. His pack was gone. He was alone.
*O*
Stiles didn’t really remember the days leading up to the funeral.
They were just glimpses, flashes like watching a movie with bad reception.
He remembers the uproar at the reading of the will and punching Matthew hard enough to shatter the bones in the other teen’s face.
He remembers his dad yanking him away from them, away from the urge to rip their throats out for even thinking of disrespecting his dead alpha.
He remembered the drive home; he remembers finding the scent of pack.
Scott, Jackson, Derek!
His smile turned feral, he would honour his bloodline, and he would make his aunt proud.
He would be part of a pack.
Chapter 4