Teen Wolf, PG13/R, AU - all in a twilight, you and I alike
Still a WIP on a prompt-by-prompt basis. Things only get darker and twistier from here.
previously
Title: all in a twilight, you and I alike
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Browning
Warnings: grief; guilt/regret; rage; mentions of death/murder/violence
Pairings: none stated
Rating: PG13
Wordcount: 900
Point of view: third
Prompt: Placebo’s ‘English Summer Rain’
The first place Derek went after coming back to Beacon Hills was the old house. He could barely stand to look at it, and Laura’s scent was long gone, if she’d left it at all. She might have come to pay her respects, but she surely wouldn’t have hung around the burnt-out shell for long. Not like Derek, who still had so much penance…
He found Laura in the woods, face frozen in a horrified expression. He collapsed beside her and howled and howled before picking her up and taking her home, where he buried her with all the honor due his alpha -
Alpha. Why wasn’t Derek the alpha now? Did a werewolf kill her? Or was it Kate Argent, to wipe out the last of the Hales?
It was Kate Argent. Using some magic to steal the alpha power, to keep it from Derek. Nothing else made sense.
.
Derek stayed at the house. Sleeping (or, rather, lying on the floor and not sleeping) was only the least of his penance. When he dreamed, it was always of fire and screamshowls and being alone forever, becoming an omega.
It was nothing less than he deserved, and he deserved so much more.
.
He caught the scent while loping through the preserve: hunters. Argent hunters.
And then - wolf.
There was another werewolf in Beacon Hills, and there were Argents on his family’s land. Again.
Derek snarled, inhaled deeply to memorize the scent, and started tracking.
.
He first saw the boy at the diner closest to his old house, picking up a to-go order. He only got a whiff, but the boy met his eyes as he went out the door, and Derek knew that scent.
A quick search revealed that the kid was the Sheriff’s son, a troublemaker, and well liked around town.
Derek stalked him for a few days, close enough for the kid to barely sense him; he kept jerking his around, looking for Derek, and Derek melted out of sight. There was no way the kid, Stilinski, could’ve killed Laura, but he was new enough to be bitten by whoever did.
Intentionally? Or the blind lashing out of someone high on being alpha?
But - hunters killed Laura. So who the fuck turned the kid?
.
On the fifth day, at the same diner, Derek was a hair too slow and the kid’s eyes met his, and the kid’s turned the golden of a bitten beta. Derek let his flash the born blue and the kid’s doubletake was so massive he fell down. Derek slowly approached, not wanting to panic a baby beta in public, and the kid scrambled to his feet.
“Stiles!” one of the waitresses announced, running over to help the kid with his to-go order, now spilled all over the floor. “Are you alright, hon?”
“Yeah, Beverly, thanks,” he said, flushing a splotchy red. “Just - thought I saw. You know. A moose.”
“A moose,” Beverly repeated flatly, glancing from Stiles’ ducked head to Derek.
Derek shrugged and Beverly rolled her eyes. “Sit back down, Stiles,” she ordered. “I’ll have Hal cook you up some more dinner for you and your daddy, you hear?”
“Thanks, Beverly,” he mumbled.
Beverly carried the to-go boxes over to the counter of the bar while Stiles, avoiding Derek’s gaze, settled at the nearest empty table. Derek sat across from him, aware of all the eyes watching them, and asked, “You alright? That looked like a pretty nasty fall.”
“I’m good,” Stiles muttered at the table. His heart was beating too fast, he was nervous as hell, and this was not the place for their first talk.
“You know what you are?” Derek asked under his breath. A human couldn’t hear it, but to a werewolf it was like shouting.
Stiles nodded without looking up.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” Derek said at a normal volume. “Be more careful from now on, okay?” He stood and walked back to the hostess station.
While he waited to be directed to the take-out area, he murmured, “Meet me at the old Hale house tonight at ten. If you’re not there, I’ll hunt you down. Understand?”
Stiles darted a quick look at him and mumbled, “Fine.”
When Stiles’ replacement food was delivered and he carefully walked out, Derek watched him. Beverly caught his gaze, with a raised eyebrow, and Derek looked away.
“He’s a good kid,” Beverly said, when she deposited his chicken-fried steak with extra mashed potatoes. “Don’t you be getting him in trouble, now.”
“No trouble, ma’am,” he said, giving her the smile Mom used to call his butter-wouldn’t-melt smile.
Beverly scoffed, “Whatever you say, hon,” and walked away.
Derek didn’t look at anyone as he left.
.
While he waited for Stiles to show up, Derek paced. Nothing made sense. Hunters killed Laura and used magic to keep her only beta from inheriting alpha. But Stiles was a baby werewolf, brand-new, which meant an alpha turned him. Laura before she died? Was that why the hunters killed her?
Or there was an alpha werewolf somewhere in Beacon Hills. Unless he (she?) killed Laura, turned Stiles, and moved on? That made more sense than hunters, but also meant that Derek might never avenge Laura.
He heard Stiles’ heartbeat before he caught the boy’s scent. Whatever had happened, Stiles was his responsibility now.
Derek took a deep breath and tried to think of what to say.
Title: all in a twilight, you and I alike
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Browning
Warnings: mentions of death/murder/violence
Pairings: Peter/Stiles
Rating: PG13
Wordcount: 335
Point of view: third
Prompt: Placebo’s ‘This Picture’
Peter’s little beta is growing up. He’s taller than Peter now, growing into his paws, developing his howl, growl, and snarl. He’s bloodthirsty and ruthless, and when Peter finally stamps out that minor bit of conscience…
Peter has been alpha for five months. Stiles has been a werewolf for five months. Derek has been back in Beacon Hills for five months.
Five of the monsters responsible for the death of Peter’s pack have been punished; a child of hunters has been executed for the crime of her blood.
Derek has been circling around Stiles, ‘teaching’ him to be a werewolf. Stiles has never taken so many showers in his life, Peter knows. Can’t let Derek catch the scent of the alpha. Not yet. Not until he’s completely devoted to the baby werewolf who couldn’t possibly have anything to do with Laura’s death.
(Peter still regrets that his madness cost him another family member. He will regret that until he dies.)
“Are we gonna… I mean…” Stiles says, biting his lip. Peter glances at him, raising an eyebrow, and Stiles says, “Are we the only members of the pack?”
“Yes,” Peter says, “until my vengeance is satisfied.” Stiles nods; he’s clever enough to follow Peter’s brilliance most days.
With Peter and Stiles acting alone, Peter can keep everything under control. But if the pack grows before the Argents are burnt to ashes… so many variables to keep track of, so many things that might go wrong. But Stiles is like an extension of Peter; he understands the necessity of what they do, understands Peter’s plan, Peter’s goals.
Stiles is the perfect beta and Peter knows that the boy is a once-in-a-lifetime find. The second beta he takes (or Derek, if things keep on as they have) will not be the same.
“Until the old man chokes on his own blood,” Peter says, “we are a pack of two, beta.”
“Good,” Stiles replies fiercely. “We don’t need anyone else, alpha.”
Peter smiles at him, thoroughly satisfied.
Title: all in a twilight, you and I alike
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Browning
Warnings: mentions of death/murder/violence
Pairings: Peter/Stiles; mentions of Peter/OMC
Rating: PG13
Wordcount: 260
Point of view: third
Prompt: Placebo's 'Sleeping With Ghosts'
"Do werewolves have, like, a soulmate bond or something?" Stiles slurs out, trying to hold still.
"No, silly boy," Peter laughs, biting down gently on the back of Stiles’ neck. "That's just a fairy story," Peter breathes into Stiles' skin, biting down again with just a hint of fang.
The only bond between werewolves connects alphas to betas, and it only exists in the very back of the mind, beyond conscious control. Peter loved Stefan but the only bond between them was the equivalent of marriage, blessed by Peter’s alpha (and Stefan’s, when he mated with Peter).
“Why?” Peter asks, flipping the boy and grazing his teeth along Stiles’ adam’s apple.
“No, no reason,” Stiles gasps, bucking up and throwing his head farther back, baring his throat. “I just - ” He keens as Peter bites down again, all words lost in the sound.
Peter laughs, soothing the bite with gentle licks.
“Some werewolves believe in a mating bond,” Peter tells him, stretching out and stroking a hand along Stiles’ side, calming him down. Stiles’ heartbeat is still excited, but he focuses on Peter’s hand and words, breathing slowly and deeply. “I did, as a child, until my father explained about alpha and beta bonds.” He sighs, letting Stiles scoot in closer. “Because I made you, you and I will always be connected.”
And one day, he doesn’t add, you and I will be mates. Stiles is still too young for that, and nowhere is yet safe while any Argent lives.
But most of the Argents won’t be breathing for much longer.
Title: all in a twilight, you and I alike
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Browning
Warnings: mentions of death/murder/violence; remembered child sexual abuse
Pairings: Peter/Stiles, Kate/Stiles
Rating: PG13
Wordcount: 635
Point of view: third
Prompt: Placebo's ‘The Bitter End’
Derek has learnt some new tricks, in the years since the fire. That’s the only reason Peter can think of, for Derek to sneak up on him and Stiles in Stiles’ room. Peter should have sensed him coming, heard him or smelled him, but the first he’s aware of the boy, Derek is roaring and lunging for him.
Which, yes, that’s understandable since Peter was spread out over Stiles and biting down on his shoulder, exactly where he’d turned him.
No human could have snuck up, no matter how distracted Peter was. But Derek is family so Peter’s instincts aren’t at 100% when it comes to him.
Stiles is growling, and Derek snarling, and Peter grabs Derek and slams him into the floor. Stiles knows better than to get involved; in fact, clever boy, he throws himself out of range, watching from the doorway to his room as Peter keeps slamming Derek back down every time he tries to move. Finally, with a sub-vocal whine, Derek stops fighting. He exhales heavily and lets his head tilt back, baring his throat.
Peter smiles at the submission. “Confession is good for the soul, dear nephew,” he says, claws scrapping up against Derek’s throat. “Every time you’ve come to see me, you smelled like guilt. Tell me why.”
“Because the fire was my fault,” Derek chokes out, sounding so young and so broken. “I thought she loved me and I told her everything. And she burned - she burned my pack alive.”
“Our pack,” Peter murmurs, loosening his grip. He stares down at Derek, at the pup he once cradled in his arms. He was the only one who could soothe Derek to sleep, when Derek was four months old. If anyone else tried, Derek howled. For Peter, he slipped right into dreams.
“I didn’t know what I was smelling, those weeks before the fire,” Peter says, sitting back on his haunches to let Derek breathe. Derek stares at him, wide-eyed. Stiles shifts in place in the doorway, but Peter keeps his gaze on Derek. “I didn’t know the stench of Argent; I didn’t recognize it clinging to you.” Derek flinches, dropping his gaze. “You were a child, Derek. Fourteen years old and stupid.”
Younger than Stiles is, now. Younger than Peter can remember being.
“Very, very stupid,” Peter continues, “but those of us older than you should have scented it. In hindsight, she was not as clever as she thought.” He leans back in to set one claw to Derek’s jugular. Derek doesn’t move, doesn’t beg.
He just closes his eyes and it breaks Peter’s heart.
“You are not blameless, nephew,” Peter murmurs, gently dragging his claw along Derek’s throat, barely marring the skin. “But it is not possible for me to punish you worse than you have yourself, these six long years. You have held yourself more accountable than I ever could.”
Derek breathes out, opening his eyes.
“I am your alpha,” Peter says.
Derek nods. “Yes, Uncle Peter,” he says softly, and a part of Peter wishes he were still that pup, clinging to Peter’s fingers. It sounds like a sob is caught in Derek’s throat as he says, “You’re my alpha.”
Stiles whimpers, barely audible, and they both look over at him. “You are still first beta, Stiles,” Peter assures him. “But your lessons with Derek will continue.”
Derek’s loyalty to Peter is tenuous; the fact that they are blood kin carries heavy weight, but Peter killed Derek’s true alpha, a born alpha, something neither of them is. But Derek already cares for Stiles, and if he can get past this betrayal…
Yes. Derek must spend as much time with Stiles as possible, until they all execute the Argents together. Then, Peter can start to build the Hale pack up, back to what it used to be.
Title: all in a twilight, you and I alike
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Browning
Warnings: mentions of death/murder/violence; grief
Pairings: Chris/Victoria Argent
Rating: PG13
Wordcount: 250
Point of view: third
Prompt: Placebo’s ‘Something Rotten’
Kate sits in Allison’s room, fists clenched. Chris is destroying his office; Victoria is in the basement inventorying guns.
Dad’s on the way, Dad and an army of hunters.
There’s something in Beacon Hills. Whatever it is killed Laura Hale. All of Kate’s allies from the fire are missing, though only Kate presumes them dead. Without evidence, the cops don’t think men are killed when they wander away, and whatever is lurking has left no evidence.
Except for a footprint on the front step, the morning Allison’s body was found.
A wolf’s footprint, on the front step of the Argent house.
Kate holds a hand to mouth to stifle her sob.
Derek Hale is back in Beacon Hills, but Kate hasn’t been able to catch him. Peter Hale is a vegetable at a long-term care clinic and any move made on him will catch attention.
Dad’s on the way, ready for war, and Kate knows that she should have made sure all of the Hales died in the fire. Should have hunted down the two who got away. Should have executed Peter in the woods instead of letting the firemen find him.
Should have. And now Allison is dead, and Kate’s the only one left with ash on her hands.
(Dad.)
Chris is shouting. Victoria hasn’t made a sound.
It’s Kate’s fault that Allison died, torn apart by a monster.
It’s Kate’s fault, but she’s going to kill every werewolf in the world until she’s satisfied or she dies.
Title: all in a twilight, you and I alike
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Browning
Warnings: father&son tension
Pairings: talk of Derek/Stiles
Rating: PG13
Wordcount: 480
Point of view: third
Prompt: Placebo’s ‘Plasticine’
Alex doesn’t recognize his son anymore. In the past few months, Stiles has become quiet, withdrawn, and like a Stepford boy. He doesn’t get in trouble, he barely hangs out with Scott, and he quit the lacrosse team, which threw up all sorts of red flags in Alex’s mind because Stiles had only joined it because his mother loved the sport so much.
And he hasn’t mentioned Lydia Martin once in four months.
Something’s wrong, but every time Alex brings it up, Stiles babbles his way out of the conversation.
.
And then Sarah, Alex’s oldest friend on the force, shuffles into Alex’s office and says, “I saw Stiles and Derek Hale at the movie theater.”
Well. That would be why he doesn’t talk about Lydia Martin anymore.
Fuck.
.
On the way home, Alex thinks about every way this thing with Derek Hale could go wrong. He’s only met Hale twice; the first time, after the fire. The second, when he had to tell Hale that half of his sister had been found in the woods.
Hale had been quiet with simmering rage, but Alex figured that was completely understandable. He said he had no plans to stay, but he also hasn’t left yet, months later.
He hasn’t left, and he’s going to the movies with Stiles.
.
By the time he pulls into the driveway, Alex is fuming. And while the jeep is parked in Stiles’ usual spot, the house is dark.
It’s ten o’clock on a school night and Stiles isn’t home.
Alex slams the door behind him and storms up the stairs, just to be sure. Stiles isn’t in his room or the bathroom. When Alex calls him, his phone goes straight to voicemail.
.
Alex is sitting in Stiles’ room when the kid tumbles through the window.
“Dad,” he says, freezing. “Shit. How did I not - ”
“Are you dating Derek Hale?” is not what Alex meant to ask, but it’s what comes out of his mouth.
Stiles blinks. “Uh, no?” he says.
“Son,” Alex says, leaning forward in the chair. “Please just tell me what’s been going on with you lately. Please, Allandros.”
Stiles winces at the name; Alex hasn’t used it since they walked out of the cemetery after laying Ellandra to rest.
Biting his lip, Stiles drops his gaze. “Just trust me, Dad,” he murmurs. “Please just trust me. I’m not in trou - I’m not over my head. Everything’s under control.”
Alex wants to believe him. But while Stiles can lie like a pro through omission, he can’t lie for shit when he actually says an untruth.
“Allandros,” he says again, tired and heartsore, “you’re grounded until you can tell me the truth.”
Stiles stays silent while Alex stands and walks out. In the morning, he’s silent at breakfast.
When Alex gets home that night, Stiles isn’t there and Alex knows they’re in real trouble.
Title: all in a twilight, you and I alike
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Browning
Warnings: talk of violence/murder/gore; discussion of unrepentant cold-blooded and calculated murder
Pairings: none stated
Rating: PG13
Wordcount: 750
Point of view: third
Prompt: Placebo’s ‘Special Needs’
“Can you tell me what happened?” Stiles asks Stiles-wolf. They’re sitting side-by-side on the front steps of the Hale house. The rest of the pack have hesitated getting close, and Derek especially keeps an eagle eye on Stiles-wolf, but Stiles knows that if this other him wanted to kill him - well, maybe Derek would be fast enough. Maybe.
“You won’t like knowing,” Stiles-wolf says. “And you’ll never be able to un-know.”
Stiles nods. He glances from Allison to Scott to Peter and then back to Stiles-wolf. The rest of the pack is close enough to hear (except the humans) and the curiosity must be eating them all alive, because Stiles-wolf is clearly the baddest of badasses, and he is so obviously dangerous…
“Did you go looking for the body in the woods?” Stiles-wolf asks. Stiles nods. Stiles-wolf directs a toothy smirk to Scott and says, “Peter found me that night. After he bit me, he transferred memories of the fire.” Stiles-wolf shrugs. “Any doubts I had… my alpha had the right to his vengeance, and I took extreme pleasure in helping him execute everyone guilty.”
“The bus driver and Harris?” Stiles asks.
Stiles-wolf nods. “And the smaller guy in the woods.” His gaze, beta-yellow, flicks to Allison.
And that - Stiles is sick to his stomach. “You killed Allison?” he mutters under his breath, and every wolf jerks, heads swiveling around in shock.
Stiles… has thought about it. After everything with the alpha pack, when Boyd and Erica came back, when Stiles learned just how and why they had wound up in the Argent basement. Allison in the throes of evil grandpa-induced madness was a horrific threat, and part of Stiles still hadn’t forgiven her for everything Gerard had done. And Stiles is the most pragmatic member of the pack.
“Yes,” Stiles-wolf answers at normal volume. “We had to get Gerard’s attention somehow.”
Stiles cannot think of a single response but Peter saunters in close and asks, “They paid? All of them?”
After a long moment of just looking at Peter with his head tilted (but so very obviously not submission), Stiles-wolf says, “Yes.” Another long moment passes before he adds, “You got Gerard and Victoria. I got Chris. Derek got Kate.”
Every wolf in the pack hears it and Stiles just can’t help wondering how much better things might have been, if Peter had bitten him in the woods that night instead of Scott. From the way Peter is staring at Stiles-wolf, clear want in his eyes, he’s not the only one.
“You… you killed Allison?” Scott asks, sounding wounded and horrified, and Allison - Allison looks gutted.
Stiles-wolf takes a deep breath and slowly moves toward Scott, hands held out as to show he isn’t a threat. “My Scott doesn’t know,” Stiles-wolf says. “He’s never gonna know. And I don’t regret it, Allison,” he adds, with a quick glance to her. “Killing you got us Gerard and I will never feel bad for anything that led to Alpha ripping that bastard into a thousand bloody chunks.” He pauses but no one says anything so he continues, “I’m sorry you had to be such a nice person; I’m sorry your death was painful and lingering; I’m sorry you were that monster’s niece, and that other monster’s granddaughter. But I’m not sorry you died.”
He looks back at Scott; Stiles feels nauseated, but he can’t regret that he asked, that he knows.
“You loved her, Scott,” Stiles-wolf says. “But you’ll get past it. You’ll move on. You’ll find someone whose blood doesn’t settle an unpayable debt, and you will never know why Allison died or who killed her.”
Allison is crying and Scott looks destroyed, but Stiles - when Stiles-wolf turns around to walk back to slump next to Stiles on the stairs, Stiles murmurs, “I get it.”
“Sorry you asked?” Stiles-wolf asks just as softly.
Stiles shakes his head.
.
After Stiles-wolf is sent back to his home universe, Peter slinks in too close to Stiles and says, “You are magnificent as a wolf.”
And Stiles, for just a moment, wants. To have said yes. To have the power. To have the unflinching conviction in the rightness of his cause.
But then he looks back at the pack, staring at him with wide, wondering eyes. He looks at Scott and Allison, huddled together, Allison carefully keeping her back from him.
At Derek, whose hands are clenched with longing on his face.
He will never tell any of them that he still wants what Stiles-wolf has.
Title: all in a twilight, you and I alike
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Browning
Warnings: underage sex, talk of murder
Rating: PG
Pairings: Peter/Stiles, mentions of Kate/Derek, implied onesided Derek/Stiles
Wordcount: 495
Point of view: third
Prompt: Placebo’s ‘I’ll Be Yours’
Every time Stiles says anything sarcastic, Derek bites back a laugh. He wants to laugh, at Stiles and with Stiles, but he can’t get sidetracked by being the kid’s friend, not with Argents in town. He’s not an alpha, and the kid doesn’t treat him like one, but Derek is older, stronger, and way more experienced (at everything).
Stiles listens, but he doesn’t do it unquestioningly. He questions everything, all day, every day. He doesn’t obey orders, demands reasons for things Derek has never had to explain because he’s never spent time with bitten wolves (except Aunt Marcie and Laura’s boyfriend in New York), and constantly interrupts training to rant about school or his friend Scott’s abandonment for a girl (Argent, who was killed by a wild animal just days ago) or the hours his dad is spending at work that used to be their weekly movie time.
The kid always has words.
That’s why his silence after Derek tries to fight Peter (Peter, Peter, Uncle Peter) keeps Derek down on the ground even after Peter accepts him as beta. The way Stiles looks at him for bare moments before looking back to Peter -
Stiles has been faking it this whole time. Derek thought - Derek wanted - it doesn’t matter. It was all a lie.
“Please get us some water, beta,” Peter murmurs, eyes on Derek.
Derek tracks Stiles’ progress through the house, but he focuses completely on Peter when Peter says, “I’m trusting you with him, Derek. He is quite special to me, but I cannot spend as much time with him as I need to, not yet.”
Derek swallows heavily, nods, tries not to choke on his confusion, his fear, his rage.
Peter is an alpha. Peter is completely healed. Peter is insane. Peter is all he has left.
(Laura. Peter killed Laura. Peter turned Stiles, the brilliant boy Derek has managed to become completely obsessed with in the past few weeks. Peter forgives him.
Peter killed Laura - but he’s letting Derek live.)
Stiles silently pads back into the room, two glasses of water in his grip. He hands them off silently; Derek fiercely misses his voice. Wants to say something just for the reaction.
(Stiles, whining under Peter, whimpering and moaning, alpha, alpha, yes, please, alpha.)
Peter’s watching him, as Derek watches Stiles. Stiles doesn’t look at either of them.
Was it all a trick, every last minute of the past eight weeks? When he wasn’t with Derek, Stiles was with Peter - all those dead men. The Argent girl.
“I have a gift for you, nephew,” Peter says, settling on the bed. Stiles slinks up to him and curls up beside him, head tilted to keep his neck bared to Peter.
Derek’s gaze flicks to Stiles but Peter just laughs.
“Kate Argent,” Peter says.
Derek’s entire body freezes.
Peter is smiling, fingers stroking down Stiles’ spine, and Derek - Derek sits up, climbs slowly to his feet, stands before his alpha, and waits.
continue
previously
Title: all in a twilight, you and I alike
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Browning
Warnings: grief; guilt/regret; rage; mentions of death/murder/violence
Pairings: none stated
Rating: PG13
Wordcount: 900
Point of view: third
Prompt: Placebo’s ‘English Summer Rain’
The first place Derek went after coming back to Beacon Hills was the old house. He could barely stand to look at it, and Laura’s scent was long gone, if she’d left it at all. She might have come to pay her respects, but she surely wouldn’t have hung around the burnt-out shell for long. Not like Derek, who still had so much penance…
He found Laura in the woods, face frozen in a horrified expression. He collapsed beside her and howled and howled before picking her up and taking her home, where he buried her with all the honor due his alpha -
Alpha. Why wasn’t Derek the alpha now? Did a werewolf kill her? Or was it Kate Argent, to wipe out the last of the Hales?
It was Kate Argent. Using some magic to steal the alpha power, to keep it from Derek. Nothing else made sense.
.
Derek stayed at the house. Sleeping (or, rather, lying on the floor and not sleeping) was only the least of his penance. When he dreamed, it was always of fire and screamshowls and being alone forever, becoming an omega.
It was nothing less than he deserved, and he deserved so much more.
.
He caught the scent while loping through the preserve: hunters. Argent hunters.
And then - wolf.
There was another werewolf in Beacon Hills, and there were Argents on his family’s land. Again.
Derek snarled, inhaled deeply to memorize the scent, and started tracking.
.
He first saw the boy at the diner closest to his old house, picking up a to-go order. He only got a whiff, but the boy met his eyes as he went out the door, and Derek knew that scent.
A quick search revealed that the kid was the Sheriff’s son, a troublemaker, and well liked around town.
Derek stalked him for a few days, close enough for the kid to barely sense him; he kept jerking his around, looking for Derek, and Derek melted out of sight. There was no way the kid, Stilinski, could’ve killed Laura, but he was new enough to be bitten by whoever did.
Intentionally? Or the blind lashing out of someone high on being alpha?
But - hunters killed Laura. So who the fuck turned the kid?
.
On the fifth day, at the same diner, Derek was a hair too slow and the kid’s eyes met his, and the kid’s turned the golden of a bitten beta. Derek let his flash the born blue and the kid’s doubletake was so massive he fell down. Derek slowly approached, not wanting to panic a baby beta in public, and the kid scrambled to his feet.
“Stiles!” one of the waitresses announced, running over to help the kid with his to-go order, now spilled all over the floor. “Are you alright, hon?”
“Yeah, Beverly, thanks,” he said, flushing a splotchy red. “Just - thought I saw. You know. A moose.”
“A moose,” Beverly repeated flatly, glancing from Stiles’ ducked head to Derek.
Derek shrugged and Beverly rolled her eyes. “Sit back down, Stiles,” she ordered. “I’ll have Hal cook you up some more dinner for you and your daddy, you hear?”
“Thanks, Beverly,” he mumbled.
Beverly carried the to-go boxes over to the counter of the bar while Stiles, avoiding Derek’s gaze, settled at the nearest empty table. Derek sat across from him, aware of all the eyes watching them, and asked, “You alright? That looked like a pretty nasty fall.”
“I’m good,” Stiles muttered at the table. His heart was beating too fast, he was nervous as hell, and this was not the place for their first talk.
“You know what you are?” Derek asked under his breath. A human couldn’t hear it, but to a werewolf it was like shouting.
Stiles nodded without looking up.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” Derek said at a normal volume. “Be more careful from now on, okay?” He stood and walked back to the hostess station.
While he waited to be directed to the take-out area, he murmured, “Meet me at the old Hale house tonight at ten. If you’re not there, I’ll hunt you down. Understand?”
Stiles darted a quick look at him and mumbled, “Fine.”
When Stiles’ replacement food was delivered and he carefully walked out, Derek watched him. Beverly caught his gaze, with a raised eyebrow, and Derek looked away.
“He’s a good kid,” Beverly said, when she deposited his chicken-fried steak with extra mashed potatoes. “Don’t you be getting him in trouble, now.”
“No trouble, ma’am,” he said, giving her the smile Mom used to call his butter-wouldn’t-melt smile.
Beverly scoffed, “Whatever you say, hon,” and walked away.
Derek didn’t look at anyone as he left.
.
While he waited for Stiles to show up, Derek paced. Nothing made sense. Hunters killed Laura and used magic to keep her only beta from inheriting alpha. But Stiles was a baby werewolf, brand-new, which meant an alpha turned him. Laura before she died? Was that why the hunters killed her?
Or there was an alpha werewolf somewhere in Beacon Hills. Unless he (she?) killed Laura, turned Stiles, and moved on? That made more sense than hunters, but also meant that Derek might never avenge Laura.
He heard Stiles’ heartbeat before he caught the boy’s scent. Whatever had happened, Stiles was his responsibility now.
Derek took a deep breath and tried to think of what to say.
Title: all in a twilight, you and I alike
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Browning
Warnings: mentions of death/murder/violence
Pairings: Peter/Stiles
Rating: PG13
Wordcount: 335
Point of view: third
Prompt: Placebo’s ‘This Picture’
Peter’s little beta is growing up. He’s taller than Peter now, growing into his paws, developing his howl, growl, and snarl. He’s bloodthirsty and ruthless, and when Peter finally stamps out that minor bit of conscience…
Peter has been alpha for five months. Stiles has been a werewolf for five months. Derek has been back in Beacon Hills for five months.
Five of the monsters responsible for the death of Peter’s pack have been punished; a child of hunters has been executed for the crime of her blood.
Derek has been circling around Stiles, ‘teaching’ him to be a werewolf. Stiles has never taken so many showers in his life, Peter knows. Can’t let Derek catch the scent of the alpha. Not yet. Not until he’s completely devoted to the baby werewolf who couldn’t possibly have anything to do with Laura’s death.
(Peter still regrets that his madness cost him another family member. He will regret that until he dies.)
“Are we gonna… I mean…” Stiles says, biting his lip. Peter glances at him, raising an eyebrow, and Stiles says, “Are we the only members of the pack?”
“Yes,” Peter says, “until my vengeance is satisfied.” Stiles nods; he’s clever enough to follow Peter’s brilliance most days.
With Peter and Stiles acting alone, Peter can keep everything under control. But if the pack grows before the Argents are burnt to ashes… so many variables to keep track of, so many things that might go wrong. But Stiles is like an extension of Peter; he understands the necessity of what they do, understands Peter’s plan, Peter’s goals.
Stiles is the perfect beta and Peter knows that the boy is a once-in-a-lifetime find. The second beta he takes (or Derek, if things keep on as they have) will not be the same.
“Until the old man chokes on his own blood,” Peter says, “we are a pack of two, beta.”
“Good,” Stiles replies fiercely. “We don’t need anyone else, alpha.”
Peter smiles at him, thoroughly satisfied.
Title: all in a twilight, you and I alike
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Browning
Warnings: mentions of death/murder/violence
Pairings: Peter/Stiles; mentions of Peter/OMC
Rating: PG13
Wordcount: 260
Point of view: third
Prompt: Placebo's 'Sleeping With Ghosts'
"Do werewolves have, like, a soulmate bond or something?" Stiles slurs out, trying to hold still.
"No, silly boy," Peter laughs, biting down gently on the back of Stiles’ neck. "That's just a fairy story," Peter breathes into Stiles' skin, biting down again with just a hint of fang.
The only bond between werewolves connects alphas to betas, and it only exists in the very back of the mind, beyond conscious control. Peter loved Stefan but the only bond between them was the equivalent of marriage, blessed by Peter’s alpha (and Stefan’s, when he mated with Peter).
“Why?” Peter asks, flipping the boy and grazing his teeth along Stiles’ adam’s apple.
“No, no reason,” Stiles gasps, bucking up and throwing his head farther back, baring his throat. “I just - ” He keens as Peter bites down again, all words lost in the sound.
Peter laughs, soothing the bite with gentle licks.
“Some werewolves believe in a mating bond,” Peter tells him, stretching out and stroking a hand along Stiles’ side, calming him down. Stiles’ heartbeat is still excited, but he focuses on Peter’s hand and words, breathing slowly and deeply. “I did, as a child, until my father explained about alpha and beta bonds.” He sighs, letting Stiles scoot in closer. “Because I made you, you and I will always be connected.”
And one day, he doesn’t add, you and I will be mates. Stiles is still too young for that, and nowhere is yet safe while any Argent lives.
But most of the Argents won’t be breathing for much longer.
Title: all in a twilight, you and I alike
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Browning
Warnings: mentions of death/murder/violence; remembered child sexual abuse
Pairings: Peter/Stiles, Kate/Stiles
Rating: PG13
Wordcount: 635
Point of view: third
Prompt: Placebo's ‘The Bitter End’
Derek has learnt some new tricks, in the years since the fire. That’s the only reason Peter can think of, for Derek to sneak up on him and Stiles in Stiles’ room. Peter should have sensed him coming, heard him or smelled him, but the first he’s aware of the boy, Derek is roaring and lunging for him.
Which, yes, that’s understandable since Peter was spread out over Stiles and biting down on his shoulder, exactly where he’d turned him.
No human could have snuck up, no matter how distracted Peter was. But Derek is family so Peter’s instincts aren’t at 100% when it comes to him.
Stiles is growling, and Derek snarling, and Peter grabs Derek and slams him into the floor. Stiles knows better than to get involved; in fact, clever boy, he throws himself out of range, watching from the doorway to his room as Peter keeps slamming Derek back down every time he tries to move. Finally, with a sub-vocal whine, Derek stops fighting. He exhales heavily and lets his head tilt back, baring his throat.
Peter smiles at the submission. “Confession is good for the soul, dear nephew,” he says, claws scrapping up against Derek’s throat. “Every time you’ve come to see me, you smelled like guilt. Tell me why.”
“Because the fire was my fault,” Derek chokes out, sounding so young and so broken. “I thought she loved me and I told her everything. And she burned - she burned my pack alive.”
“Our pack,” Peter murmurs, loosening his grip. He stares down at Derek, at the pup he once cradled in his arms. He was the only one who could soothe Derek to sleep, when Derek was four months old. If anyone else tried, Derek howled. For Peter, he slipped right into dreams.
“I didn’t know what I was smelling, those weeks before the fire,” Peter says, sitting back on his haunches to let Derek breathe. Derek stares at him, wide-eyed. Stiles shifts in place in the doorway, but Peter keeps his gaze on Derek. “I didn’t know the stench of Argent; I didn’t recognize it clinging to you.” Derek flinches, dropping his gaze. “You were a child, Derek. Fourteen years old and stupid.”
Younger than Stiles is, now. Younger than Peter can remember being.
“Very, very stupid,” Peter continues, “but those of us older than you should have scented it. In hindsight, she was not as clever as she thought.” He leans back in to set one claw to Derek’s jugular. Derek doesn’t move, doesn’t beg.
He just closes his eyes and it breaks Peter’s heart.
“You are not blameless, nephew,” Peter murmurs, gently dragging his claw along Derek’s throat, barely marring the skin. “But it is not possible for me to punish you worse than you have yourself, these six long years. You have held yourself more accountable than I ever could.”
Derek breathes out, opening his eyes.
“I am your alpha,” Peter says.
Derek nods. “Yes, Uncle Peter,” he says softly, and a part of Peter wishes he were still that pup, clinging to Peter’s fingers. It sounds like a sob is caught in Derek’s throat as he says, “You’re my alpha.”
Stiles whimpers, barely audible, and they both look over at him. “You are still first beta, Stiles,” Peter assures him. “But your lessons with Derek will continue.”
Derek’s loyalty to Peter is tenuous; the fact that they are blood kin carries heavy weight, but Peter killed Derek’s true alpha, a born alpha, something neither of them is. But Derek already cares for Stiles, and if he can get past this betrayal…
Yes. Derek must spend as much time with Stiles as possible, until they all execute the Argents together. Then, Peter can start to build the Hale pack up, back to what it used to be.
Title: all in a twilight, you and I alike
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Browning
Warnings: mentions of death/murder/violence; grief
Pairings: Chris/Victoria Argent
Rating: PG13
Wordcount: 250
Point of view: third
Prompt: Placebo’s ‘Something Rotten’
Kate sits in Allison’s room, fists clenched. Chris is destroying his office; Victoria is in the basement inventorying guns.
Dad’s on the way, Dad and an army of hunters.
There’s something in Beacon Hills. Whatever it is killed Laura Hale. All of Kate’s allies from the fire are missing, though only Kate presumes them dead. Without evidence, the cops don’t think men are killed when they wander away, and whatever is lurking has left no evidence.
Except for a footprint on the front step, the morning Allison’s body was found.
A wolf’s footprint, on the front step of the Argent house.
Kate holds a hand to mouth to stifle her sob.
Derek Hale is back in Beacon Hills, but Kate hasn’t been able to catch him. Peter Hale is a vegetable at a long-term care clinic and any move made on him will catch attention.
Dad’s on the way, ready for war, and Kate knows that she should have made sure all of the Hales died in the fire. Should have hunted down the two who got away. Should have executed Peter in the woods instead of letting the firemen find him.
Should have. And now Allison is dead, and Kate’s the only one left with ash on her hands.
(Dad.)
Chris is shouting. Victoria hasn’t made a sound.
It’s Kate’s fault that Allison died, torn apart by a monster.
It’s Kate’s fault, but she’s going to kill every werewolf in the world until she’s satisfied or she dies.
Title: all in a twilight, you and I alike
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Browning
Warnings: father&son tension
Pairings: talk of Derek/Stiles
Rating: PG13
Wordcount: 480
Point of view: third
Prompt: Placebo’s ‘Plasticine’
Alex doesn’t recognize his son anymore. In the past few months, Stiles has become quiet, withdrawn, and like a Stepford boy. He doesn’t get in trouble, he barely hangs out with Scott, and he quit the lacrosse team, which threw up all sorts of red flags in Alex’s mind because Stiles had only joined it because his mother loved the sport so much.
And he hasn’t mentioned Lydia Martin once in four months.
Something’s wrong, but every time Alex brings it up, Stiles babbles his way out of the conversation.
.
And then Sarah, Alex’s oldest friend on the force, shuffles into Alex’s office and says, “I saw Stiles and Derek Hale at the movie theater.”
Well. That would be why he doesn’t talk about Lydia Martin anymore.
Fuck.
.
On the way home, Alex thinks about every way this thing with Derek Hale could go wrong. He’s only met Hale twice; the first time, after the fire. The second, when he had to tell Hale that half of his sister had been found in the woods.
Hale had been quiet with simmering rage, but Alex figured that was completely understandable. He said he had no plans to stay, but he also hasn’t left yet, months later.
He hasn’t left, and he’s going to the movies with Stiles.
.
By the time he pulls into the driveway, Alex is fuming. And while the jeep is parked in Stiles’ usual spot, the house is dark.
It’s ten o’clock on a school night and Stiles isn’t home.
Alex slams the door behind him and storms up the stairs, just to be sure. Stiles isn’t in his room or the bathroom. When Alex calls him, his phone goes straight to voicemail.
.
Alex is sitting in Stiles’ room when the kid tumbles through the window.
“Dad,” he says, freezing. “Shit. How did I not - ”
“Are you dating Derek Hale?” is not what Alex meant to ask, but it’s what comes out of his mouth.
Stiles blinks. “Uh, no?” he says.
“Son,” Alex says, leaning forward in the chair. “Please just tell me what’s been going on with you lately. Please, Allandros.”
Stiles winces at the name; Alex hasn’t used it since they walked out of the cemetery after laying Ellandra to rest.
Biting his lip, Stiles drops his gaze. “Just trust me, Dad,” he murmurs. “Please just trust me. I’m not in trou - I’m not over my head. Everything’s under control.”
Alex wants to believe him. But while Stiles can lie like a pro through omission, he can’t lie for shit when he actually says an untruth.
“Allandros,” he says again, tired and heartsore, “you’re grounded until you can tell me the truth.”
Stiles stays silent while Alex stands and walks out. In the morning, he’s silent at breakfast.
When Alex gets home that night, Stiles isn’t there and Alex knows they’re in real trouble.
Title: all in a twilight, you and I alike
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Browning
Warnings: talk of violence/murder/gore; discussion of unrepentant cold-blooded and calculated murder
Pairings: none stated
Rating: PG13
Wordcount: 750
Point of view: third
Prompt: Placebo’s ‘Special Needs’
“Can you tell me what happened?” Stiles asks Stiles-wolf. They’re sitting side-by-side on the front steps of the Hale house. The rest of the pack have hesitated getting close, and Derek especially keeps an eagle eye on Stiles-wolf, but Stiles knows that if this other him wanted to kill him - well, maybe Derek would be fast enough. Maybe.
“You won’t like knowing,” Stiles-wolf says. “And you’ll never be able to un-know.”
Stiles nods. He glances from Allison to Scott to Peter and then back to Stiles-wolf. The rest of the pack is close enough to hear (except the humans) and the curiosity must be eating them all alive, because Stiles-wolf is clearly the baddest of badasses, and he is so obviously dangerous…
“Did you go looking for the body in the woods?” Stiles-wolf asks. Stiles nods. Stiles-wolf directs a toothy smirk to Scott and says, “Peter found me that night. After he bit me, he transferred memories of the fire.” Stiles-wolf shrugs. “Any doubts I had… my alpha had the right to his vengeance, and I took extreme pleasure in helping him execute everyone guilty.”
“The bus driver and Harris?” Stiles asks.
Stiles-wolf nods. “And the smaller guy in the woods.” His gaze, beta-yellow, flicks to Allison.
And that - Stiles is sick to his stomach. “You killed Allison?” he mutters under his breath, and every wolf jerks, heads swiveling around in shock.
Stiles… has thought about it. After everything with the alpha pack, when Boyd and Erica came back, when Stiles learned just how and why they had wound up in the Argent basement. Allison in the throes of evil grandpa-induced madness was a horrific threat, and part of Stiles still hadn’t forgiven her for everything Gerard had done. And Stiles is the most pragmatic member of the pack.
“Yes,” Stiles-wolf answers at normal volume. “We had to get Gerard’s attention somehow.”
Stiles cannot think of a single response but Peter saunters in close and asks, “They paid? All of them?”
After a long moment of just looking at Peter with his head tilted (but so very obviously not submission), Stiles-wolf says, “Yes.” Another long moment passes before he adds, “You got Gerard and Victoria. I got Chris. Derek got Kate.”
Every wolf in the pack hears it and Stiles just can’t help wondering how much better things might have been, if Peter had bitten him in the woods that night instead of Scott. From the way Peter is staring at Stiles-wolf, clear want in his eyes, he’s not the only one.
“You… you killed Allison?” Scott asks, sounding wounded and horrified, and Allison - Allison looks gutted.
Stiles-wolf takes a deep breath and slowly moves toward Scott, hands held out as to show he isn’t a threat. “My Scott doesn’t know,” Stiles-wolf says. “He’s never gonna know. And I don’t regret it, Allison,” he adds, with a quick glance to her. “Killing you got us Gerard and I will never feel bad for anything that led to Alpha ripping that bastard into a thousand bloody chunks.” He pauses but no one says anything so he continues, “I’m sorry you had to be such a nice person; I’m sorry your death was painful and lingering; I’m sorry you were that monster’s niece, and that other monster’s granddaughter. But I’m not sorry you died.”
He looks back at Scott; Stiles feels nauseated, but he can’t regret that he asked, that he knows.
“You loved her, Scott,” Stiles-wolf says. “But you’ll get past it. You’ll move on. You’ll find someone whose blood doesn’t settle an unpayable debt, and you will never know why Allison died or who killed her.”
Allison is crying and Scott looks destroyed, but Stiles - when Stiles-wolf turns around to walk back to slump next to Stiles on the stairs, Stiles murmurs, “I get it.”
“Sorry you asked?” Stiles-wolf asks just as softly.
Stiles shakes his head.
.
After Stiles-wolf is sent back to his home universe, Peter slinks in too close to Stiles and says, “You are magnificent as a wolf.”
And Stiles, for just a moment, wants. To have said yes. To have the power. To have the unflinching conviction in the rightness of his cause.
But then he looks back at the pack, staring at him with wide, wondering eyes. He looks at Scott and Allison, huddled together, Allison carefully keeping her back from him.
At Derek, whose hands are clenched with longing on his face.
He will never tell any of them that he still wants what Stiles-wolf has.
Title: all in a twilight, you and I alike
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Browning
Warnings: underage sex, talk of murder
Rating: PG
Pairings: Peter/Stiles, mentions of Kate/Derek, implied onesided Derek/Stiles
Wordcount: 495
Point of view: third
Prompt: Placebo’s ‘I’ll Be Yours’
Every time Stiles says anything sarcastic, Derek bites back a laugh. He wants to laugh, at Stiles and with Stiles, but he can’t get sidetracked by being the kid’s friend, not with Argents in town. He’s not an alpha, and the kid doesn’t treat him like one, but Derek is older, stronger, and way more experienced (at everything).
Stiles listens, but he doesn’t do it unquestioningly. He questions everything, all day, every day. He doesn’t obey orders, demands reasons for things Derek has never had to explain because he’s never spent time with bitten wolves (except Aunt Marcie and Laura’s boyfriend in New York), and constantly interrupts training to rant about school or his friend Scott’s abandonment for a girl (Argent, who was killed by a wild animal just days ago) or the hours his dad is spending at work that used to be their weekly movie time.
The kid always has words.
That’s why his silence after Derek tries to fight Peter (Peter, Peter, Uncle Peter) keeps Derek down on the ground even after Peter accepts him as beta. The way Stiles looks at him for bare moments before looking back to Peter -
Stiles has been faking it this whole time. Derek thought - Derek wanted - it doesn’t matter. It was all a lie.
“Please get us some water, beta,” Peter murmurs, eyes on Derek.
Derek tracks Stiles’ progress through the house, but he focuses completely on Peter when Peter says, “I’m trusting you with him, Derek. He is quite special to me, but I cannot spend as much time with him as I need to, not yet.”
Derek swallows heavily, nods, tries not to choke on his confusion, his fear, his rage.
Peter is an alpha. Peter is completely healed. Peter is insane. Peter is all he has left.
(Laura. Peter killed Laura. Peter turned Stiles, the brilliant boy Derek has managed to become completely obsessed with in the past few weeks. Peter forgives him.
Peter killed Laura - but he’s letting Derek live.)
Stiles silently pads back into the room, two glasses of water in his grip. He hands them off silently; Derek fiercely misses his voice. Wants to say something just for the reaction.
(Stiles, whining under Peter, whimpering and moaning, alpha, alpha, yes, please, alpha.)
Peter’s watching him, as Derek watches Stiles. Stiles doesn’t look at either of them.
Was it all a trick, every last minute of the past eight weeks? When he wasn’t with Derek, Stiles was with Peter - all those dead men. The Argent girl.
“I have a gift for you, nephew,” Peter says, settling on the bed. Stiles slinks up to him and curls up beside him, head tilted to keep his neck bared to Peter.
Derek’s gaze flicks to Stiles but Peter just laughs.
“Kate Argent,” Peter says.
Derek’s entire body freezes.
Peter is smiling, fingers stroking down Stiles’ spine, and Derek - Derek sits up, climbs slowly to his feet, stands before his alpha, and waits.
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