Chapter Text
Stiles grumbled softly as he was escorted into an interrogation room. They sat him in a hard uncomfortable chair and left him alone to fidget with the handcuffs around his wrists. He stared solemnly at the two way mirror he was facing and awaited his fate.
Eventually one of the new deputies, who Stiles didn’t know very well, came into the room and set a file on the table before taking the seat opposite the young boy.
“Hello, I’m Deputy Beldress,” the man introduced himself after a long moment of silence.
“Shouldn’t you be meaner and not so friendly? I mean, they are accusing me of five homicides with no clear purpose or motive. Shouldn’t you be yelling questions at me as to why and how?” Stiles retorted smoothly, face completely devoid of emotion.
“Did you kill those people?” Beldress asked, raising a thick brown eyebrow.
Stiles closed his eyes and took a deep steadying breath before he met the deputy’s gaze. “I’d like a lawyer,” he said simply, holding his ground. He knew his rights.
The deputy frowned and gave him a sad sympathetic smile before he patted Stiles’ folded hands. “Okay, I’ll see to it that the court appoints you the most competent attorney they have.”
Stiles wanted to roll his eyes but he refrained. He knew that he’d be treated much differently if he weren’t the sheriff’s son. He knew that they were being nice purely for his father’s sake, that if he were any other quintuple homicide suspect he’d have been slammed around and yelled at a lot more.
The deputy helped him up and escorted him back to his cell, the bars clanging loudly in the otherwise silent room. Stiles moved to the little cot with the flat mattress and lowered himself onto it with a sigh, settling in to stare at the grey ceiling for the next indeterminable amount of time.
--
Derek was staring blankly at the wall, his hands gripping the undershirt he’d been wearing before Stiles left that he ended up pulling off when his skin itched too badly to keep it on. He hears the sound of a car’s engine and several thunderous heartbeats before the door above him is being thrown open and all of his betas and their humans come tearing down, all of them trying to talk over each other. Derek only caught snippets here and there.
“Derek, there were police-“
“And they took him-“
“They think he-“
“Those five people-“
“The Alphas though-“
“Not his fault, dude-“
“Break him out-“
“Go northeast like we had-“
“Can’t just let him-“
“Save him right-“
“Need to go now!”
Eventually the pack stopped so they could gulp down huge lungfuls of air, dragging oxygen roughly into their deprived bodies. Derek waited a few minutes as their breathing evened out and became less erratic before he spoke.
“I know,” he said quietly. “He was here.”
Scott sniffed the air and Derek saw the recognition on his face. “Well what did he say? Did he tell you he was going to turn himself in? Did you tell him about our plan to leave?” Scott’s heartbeat never had slowed down and probably wouldn’t until his friend was on the safe side of the bars.
“I told him, but he wouldn’t leave with us. He…he’s got his dad. He said he didn’t want to leave him with questions,” Derek answered quietly, resuming his death glare at the wall.
“Well we’ll just take his dad with us. We can explain everything and then no one will have to leave,” Scott reasoned, his expression wild and grasping at straws.
“We can’t tell the Sheriff, Scott,” Derek told him seriously, green eyes flicking up to look at his betas.
They were all taken aback by Derek’s firm statement and all was quiet.
“Why the hell not?” Lydia demanded angrily, actually stomping her foot like she was one of those girls in a bad chick flick.
“Melissa knows,” Boyd added unhelpfully, his voice and expression calmer than anyone else in the room even though his rapid heartbeat gave him away.
“That’s different. Scott is a wolf; she had to be okay with it, had to accept it. Stiles isn’t a wolf and his father doesn’t have to be okay with it. He could very well turn against all of us,” Derek explained slowly as if he were talking to a group of children.
Scott snorted and the entirety of the pack rolled their eyes causing Derek to growl.
“You’re a bigger idiot than I gave you credit for,” Erica commented lightly, shoulders relaxing as she lifted a hand to examine her blood red nails. Boyd tried to hide a smirk as he nudged his mate’s hip in slight warning.
“You do realize that Stiles’ father adores Scott and Isaac like they were his own sons, right?” Lydia asked pointedly, raising a perfectly shaped brow as she leaned into Jackson’s side.
“Not to mention how he thinks Lydia and Allison are the sun and stars themselves,” Jackson snipped, rolling his pale blue eyes.
“He thinks Boyd is the coolest thing since sliced bread,” Erica added proudly, beaming up at the dark skinned man beside her.
“He…sorta tolerates Jackson,” Allison added behind a suppressed giggle.
“Plus he’d never do anything to make Stiles upset,” Isaac chimed in. “He’s a good person, Derek.”
“Well what do we propose we do?” Derek snapped angrily, thick brows crinkled together in irritation. “You think I wanted him to turn himself in? You think I wanted him arrested? You think I want him…dead?” Derek choked on the last word as it tumbled out of his mouth.
“We…tell…the sheriff,” Scott said slowly, dragging out the sentence and taking his turn to sound like he was talking to a child.
“What and just shift? Give him a heart attack? I’m pretty sure Stiles wouldn’t be too thrilled about that,” Derek retorted.
“God, you’re such an idiot,” Lydia grumbled in irritation and heard Derek’s warning growl to step off. “Oh get over yourself. You’re the Alpha, we get it. You’re also the Alpha who let Stiles walk right out of here and into the not-so-welcoming arms of his imminent doom. So get off your high horse and let’s go.”
The betas were trying to smother grins and snickers at the way Derek seemed to shrink in Lydia’s wake the way she was hovering over him and glaring. Derek seemed to sense their amusement though because he straightened up and let out a loud growl at them, pale green eyes bleeding into a dark angry crimson that made them sober instantly.
“What’s your plan?” Derek demanded on the verge of growling.
“We find the sheriff and explain the situation. We can get Danny to hack into the station’s security feed to cut it off for a few minutes while we switch the evidence against Stiles with evidence against the Alpha pack that are conveniently lying under dirt and wolfsbane after your ‘epic battle.’” Lydia informed him like it was obvious and placed a finger to her cheek while she stared at the betas’ - and Derek’s - looks of oh-why-didn’t-I-think-of-that? “God, what must it be like to live in your tiny little brains? I need Stiles back pronto. He’s the only one smart enough to keep up with me. JACKSON! You’re driving; there’s no way I’m running through the woods again. These are new shoes.”
“That I bought you,” Jackson grumbled lowly.
“Because you made me run through the woods,” Lydia pointed out in a singsong voice, rolling her eyes. “C’mon, Alli.”
Allison took Scott’s hand and tugged him along as she followed Lydia and Jackson up the stairs to the door where Lydia paused to look over the railing at the hesitating betas and Derek.
“Well are you coming to tell the Sheriff or are we doing it alone and taking all the credit for saving Stiles?” Lydia demanded pointedly, hand on hip. “I’m pretty sure that won’t get you laid, Derek!”
Derek grumbled - no he most certainly did not blush - but made for the stairs, his betas falling into step behind him.
“We’ll meet in Stiles backyard if his dad isn’t home yet. We can’t very well hang around on his front porch for the neighbors to see,” Lydia said as she paused by the passenger door of Jackson’s BMW (his Porsche had been totaled in an unfortunate run in with the head of the Alpha pack).
Derek crossed the street and into the concealment of the forest, trees rising up like sentinels around him and the betas following behind. Derek didn’t pause as he took off at a brisk run, reaching into himself to let his inner wolf have reign. He could feel rather than hear the betas doing the same; canines elongating, nails turning to claws, hair sprouting, bones cracking as they slid into new formations, and skin bubbling as it remolded to the new bone structure. Derek could feel the shimmer in the air with their shifts, something different, something magical and…charged, like the glimmer of light before it disappears.
The run is somehow strengthening instead of draining; causing Derek’s heart to pump faster and new energy to spread through his muscles. The air is crisp and cool, filling Derek’s lungs with a taste that was distinctly…fall. It tasted like cinnamon and earth and pine and pumpkin and apple cider.
They darted across roads where they wouldn’t be spotted and behind empty houses. Luckily their way was pretty much unobstructed by too many open spaces, allowing them to stay concealed by tall trees for the majority of the way. They slowed down to a walk as they came to the forest across from the Stilinski’s home, pausing to shift back to human - that charge present in the air again - before they crossed the street right as Jackson was pulling up to the curb.
The driveway was empty and the house was dark; empty. No one said a word as Scott led them around the house to the side gate into the backyard where they’d wait. Erica sniffed the air first.
“I smell…there’s a fresh scent path here,” she decided, as she looked around. “Stiles was here within the last three hours or so.”
Derek nodded in acknowledgement and watched as Scott peered up at an old rickety looking tree house high up in the boughs of an ancient looking oak tree. The beta started up the makeshift ladder and disappeared inside.
“He left us letters!” Scott called down a second before he leapt down from the opening to land on the balls of his feet. He straightened up as everyone crowded around him. “Lydia…” Lydia snatched hers up and moved away from the group to open the carefully folded pages. “Erica…” Erica didn’t even move before she had hers open and was reading the words carefully. “Isaac…Allison…Boyd…me…and Derek.”
Derek snatched his from the hand of his beta and moved across the yard, perching on the small back porch. He unfolded the pages with more care than he’d ever given anything. Stiles’ handwriting was messy, letters scrunched up and running together. Derek took a deep breath and read the words in front of him.
Dear Sourwolf,
You know why I’ve turned myself in. Thank you for the offer of running away, of being able to start somewhere new with everyone else, but I couldn’t do that to my dad. He’s the only family I have left anymore. And I’m the only thing he has left at all besides his job. I can’t just disappear without a trace and leave him wondering what happened. And you’re not allowed to ask me to do that. It was bad enough for the both of us to lose my mom, even with the closure, even with knowing what happened, even with getting to bury her. It would be worse for him to go through it again without knowing what happened or why or getting closure. If I left, my dad would drink himself into an early grave, and I’m not about to let that happen.
Don’t blame yourself for this okay? It isn’t your fault. In all honesty, I could out your little werewolf asses if I wanted to. I could have told my dad everything despite you telling me not to. But you’re right. I’m not a wolf and he doesn’t have to protect you and I don’t want him to take me away from you guys and this place. I don’t want him to run you out of town because this is your home and theirs, all of ours. This is where we all grew up and I won’t ruin that for all of you. This was my decision and I stand by it. I will always stand by it. It was my decision to turn myself in. It was my decision to confess. It was my decision to tell my lawyer to plead guilty. And it will be my decision to take the punishment I’m granted. So please don’t blame yourself for this. My death won’t be your fault.
Don’t be too hard on the pups okay? This will be hard enough on them as it is. I know I’m not really pack but I appreciate that you guys treat me like I am. You all mean a lot to me and I’ll carry you with me til the end. I’ll carry all of you in my heart. (God that sounds awful cheesy. I’m so sorry. -_-)
Trust the pack, Derek. I know it might be a hard concept for your emotionally constipated mind to grasp, but they…we all care about you. We’re not going to hurt you like Kate did by killing your family, or like Peter did by killing your sister. (Seriously, you need to get on that Peter thing. I think it’d help for you to land a good solid punch to the side of his head, knock a few fractures into his skull for being a creep, okay? Do you even know where he is?) The pack needs you and you need them. And the only people left around you are there because they care.
Scott looks up to you even if he won’t admit it. You helped him be a better wolf. Erica loves you like the big brother she never had, like the big brother who took all her health problems away. You gave her something amazing and she’ll stand by you to the death. Boyd looks at you like a friend because you are one. You gave him friends and a new family and that was all he ever wanted. Isaac looks at you like a father because his was shitty at being a dad. You took him out of an abusive home and gave him someplace new to call his own; someplace where people care about him and love him. Jackson came to you because he was insecure and you gave him his security back. He’s slightly less of a douche because of you and he got Lydia back, so he pretty much owes you. They’ll all protect you to the death, Derek.
I know we’ve had our differences, but I’ve sort of grown to like you, ya know, even when you’re being a Sourwolf. Your actions are sometimes misguided, but I know you’re a good person and you only ever try to do what’s right. Even when you don’t know exactly what that is.
Did you know you have a nice smile? Not your creepy smile that you use to distract and flirt with unsuspecting female police officers (I mean seriously?), but the real one. I know you don’t think anyone sees it, but I do.
I see it when Lydia makes us have our Friday Fright Nights at Jackson’s and everyone’s piled together and things are good. I see it after Saturday morning pack trainings when the pups are rolling around together in patches of sunlight like the idiot puppies they are. I see it on Sunday afternoon barbecues when Jackson’s standing at the grill and Boyd’s chasing Scott and Isaac and Erica around the trees while Allison, Lydia and I lounge on your porch. I see it when things are good and peaceful. I see it. It’s this small, thoughtful, almost reluctant twist at the corners of your lips that seems to actually reach your eyes. (Those are nice, too, by the way. Very symmetrical and…nicely colored.) You should smile more often. If anything, it would freak the others out. I know you love to do that.
You’re a good person, Derek. Thoughtful and strong and (way, WAY deep down) kind. I know you care about all of us, all of them. You take care of them and give them a purpose. Thank you for making me feel useful and important even though I don’t always feel like I am. I mean, I can’t shoot arrows or guns like Allison; and I can’t translate Archaic Latin like Lydia. But you always make me feel like my opinion is relevant, like my ideas are good ones (okay, at least better than Scotts, amirite?). Thanks for bringing us all together, Derek.
There’s just one last thing I want to tell you okay? I always imagined I’d say this to your face someday. Maybe after one of our yelling fights when you accuse me of not caring about myself and that I shouldn’t push the big bad Alpha out of the way and take claws to the chest when I can’t heal like you can. I always imagined I’d yell back at you, “Well I did it because I love you, you fucking idiot!”
But this is me saying it now, okay? I love you, Derek Hale. Remember that.
Take care of the pack. Take care of Scott especially. (We both know how much of an idiot he can be.) And take care of yourself especially.
Yours always,
Stiles Stilinski
Derek choked back his emotions, clutching the papers tightly in his hands as they crinkled under his grip. The whole pack perked up at the sound of tires on asphalt and the flash of headlights that swept over the side of the house as the cruiser pulled into the driveway. Derek stood, pulled his emotions together and moved to stand in front of the pack, all of whom fell into a loose formation behind him. Boyd a little behind him and to Derek’s right with Erica clinging to the beta’s hand. Scott was a little behind Derek with Allison at his side, Isaac behind them. And Jackson and Lydia stood together behind Erica and Boyd, Lydia holding Jackson’s hand though he angled her a little behind him.
They listened to the sound of the Sheriff stepping out of the car and closing the door. He paused, probably looking at Jackson’s car before he approached the house. His footsteps were slow and heavy on the stairs and then through the house. The Sheriff didn’t even stop to hang up his jacket or unload his weapon before the backdoor was being pushed open. John Stilinski paused as he took in the sight of the seven teens and one adult gathered before him. He blinked a few times and heaved a sigh.
“I assume you’re here because of Stiles. Though why you chose to congregate in my backyard I do not know. Also what I don’t know is what Derek Hale is doing here. But I’ve had a long day. It’s three am and I’m exhausted. So say what you came here to say and then get the hell lost.” John’s voice was thick and heavy with exhaustion so Derek was about to speak when Lydia stepped forward, ignoring Jackson’s reaching hands.
“John, you should probably sit down,” she told him. “Do you want to talk in the dining room?”
Allison stepped forward also but Scott didn’t reach for her in the way Jackson had reached for Lydia. “C’mon. I’ll make us all some coffee,” she suggested, looping her arm through John’s and pulling him back towards the door.
Derek sighed but followed, his betas falling into step behind him as they walked through the house. Derek couldn’t remember ever walking into the Stilinski’s house. He’d only ever climbed in through Stiles’ window and left the same way. Lydia sat down with John at the long mahogany dining table that Derek thought was too big for just two people; though at one time Derek imagined it was cramped with others and the happy laughter of family.
He knew Stiles didn’t have any more family outside of his dad and a few cousins in Minnesota whom they were no longer close to. Scott had told him that John was an only child and Stiles’ mother had a sister who died of leukemia when Stiles was four, Mrs. Stilinski following ten years later of the same cause. But he knew Stiles had to have gotten his penchant for taking care of people from somewhere. The house must’ve been filled with people, his parents friends for Superbowl barbecues and college students with nowhere to go on the holidays - Genevieve had been a college English professor at the small university just outside of town before she fell ill.
“So, get on with it,” John sighed, breaking into Derek’s musings as he accepted a steaming mug of plain black coffee from Allison.
“We know who committed the murders,” Lydia stated calmly, voice smooth and slow as she spoke.
John perked up, face surprised as he leaned forward on the table. “I knew it. That dumbass kid. Who was it? Who’s he protecting?”
“He’s protecting us,” Derek told him softly, gaze firmly on the floor.
“You? All of you committed the murders?” John asked skeptically. “I mean, I know you’ve got the whole serial killer look about you, Derek, but I didn’t fully believe you killed that g- Laura, then and I don’t believe you killed anyone this time.”
Derek winced at the mention of his sister. “No, none of us killed those people. It just…it’s a lot bigger than you think, John,” Derek insisted, looking up into the man’s piercing blue eyes.
“Well by all means, son, enlighten me.” John waved a hand in front of him, urging the others to get on with it.
“John, we...well, not all of us we; not Allison, Stiles and Lydia, but the rest of us,” Scott motioned around to himself, Boyd, Isaac, Erica, Jackson and Derek. “We are…erm, not exactly…human.” He flinched back waiting for John to explode.
He didn’t though, he just looked suddenly exhausted and put out again as he heaved a large sigh. “This isn’t time for your comic book stuff, Scott. I’m sure you’re all trying to make me feel better by getting me to laugh or something but, it’s not working so. I’m going to bed now, alright?”
“John, listen,” Lydia urged, pulling him back into his seat when he tried to get up. “They’re telling the truth. They’re not human. You can always tell if I’m lying right?” John nodded when she waited for him to respond. “Well, tell me if I’m lying now. They are not human.”
“Okay…so what are you then? Vampires?” John rolled his eyes and slumped against the back of his chair.
“Werewolves,” Derek answered softly, eyes taking on a strange tint before John watched them bleed crimson.
“You’re shitting me right now aren’t you?” John asked, raising a brow.
Everyone in the room shook their heads no; all of them looking as serious as heart attacks.
“We can prove it,” Isaac piped up, standing up and moving beside Derek.
John was wide eyed as he watched the boys and one girl line up about eight feet in front of him before…shifting. The sound of horrible cracking filled the room and skin was melting to conform around differently shaped bones and hair was sprouting and teeth were elongating and eyes were shifting colors; Derek’s were still that startling shade of crimson while Scott’s, Erica’s, Boyd’s, and Isaac’s were amber and Jackson’s were electric blue. They held up hands to showcase long, thick, razor sharp claws and the Sheriff had to blink a couple times to make sure he was actually seeing it.
“You weren’t joking…” is the first thing he managed to say before letting out an angry huff. “Is this why Stiles has been lying to me and sneaking around and failing at being sneaky while he washes blood and mud out of his clothes? And why you,” he shoves a finger in Derek’s direction, “have been sneaking into his window at least three times a week? Oh yea, don’t think I didn’t know about that mister. I’m not the Sheriff for nothing. Not to mention I’ve seen you passed out on the floor next to his bed like a guard dog - wow that phrase has new meaning now - with his hand over the edge of the bed in your hair. And that reminds me! My son already spent eight years pining after her,” he shoves a finger at Lydia who has the decency to look sheepish. “So don’t make him spend another eight pining after you. You either reciprocate or you don’t. Give him an option so he can move on already! Jesus Christ. Genevieve would not believe this right now. Actually she probably would and she’d probably handle this a lot better than I am. Fuck. So how’re we supposed to get Stiles out? Are the people who murdered those others like you or are they like vampires or something? Are there such a thing as vampires?”
The pack let John rant for a few minutes. It was only natural for his brain to be trying to work things out and if the process seemed to need to be let out vocally, they’d let that happen. So it seemed Stiles got his babbling abilities from somewhere after all - Lydia and Scott had remembered his mother to be very soft spoken and sweet, speaking when necessary and doling out words of wisdom and comfort when needed but not excessively.
Finally John started to lose his vigor and his words slowed down to Lydia took it as her cue to step in.
“John,” she said softly, laying a gentle hand to his shoulder and making his words cut off. “We have a plan to free Stiles, but we’ll need your help and we may have to break a few laws to do it.” She measured his expression but it was eager and grasping at straws.
“Anything, anything you need to help my boy,” he assured her, them, and reminding the pack of a little puppy eager to please his master.
“The people who did this, the wolves,” Derek began, drawing the sheriff’s attention, “We eliminated them. They were a pack of Alphas, like myself, not easy to kill normally. But they wanted revenge for someone my family was forced to eliminate years ago. The wolf my father killed was the brother of one of the Alphas, and when a wolf seeks revenge he does not stop until he secures it or dies trying. It made them reckless and easy to capture. They wouldn’t surrender so we killed them, as a last resort; it was painless and as humane as possible, I assure you.”
John wanted to say something about the fact that this man had just confessed to an unknown number of murders to an officer of the law, but instead could only manage to feel grateful to the man for taking care of the threat. “So how do we save Stiles? How do we prove it wasn’t him?” John asked, looking around for answers he wasn’t getting.
“A friend of ours is good with…computers, technology,” Jackson answered calmly as the wolves began to shift back to their human features. “He can hack into the police station’s security feed while we switch the evidence against Stiles with evidence against the Alphas. We’ll need you to get us an inventory log of all the evidence so we can gather the same and we’ll need the official police supplies as well.”
John nodded fiercely. “It’ll take me at least until tomorrow night. I’m being kept away from most of the case related things and if I show up again tonight they’ll be suspicious.”
“Okay, just make sure Stiles does not confess and does not plead guilty, because that will be hard for you to get rid of without it looking suspicious,” Lydia added.
“And tell him that you know, so that he won’t tell his lawyer that he did it either okay?” Allison piped up.
“Tell him he’s a stupid shit for turning himself in and I had a plan,” Derek growled, eyes flashing red again momentarily.
John stared at Derek for a long moment but finally nodded at all of them, looking down at the now-cold cup of coffee in front of him. “I think…I need some sleep to take this all in,” he announced slowly, brows furrowing as his brain struggled to keep up with all the information he was being thrown.
“Of course,” Allison nodded quickly, standing up. “I’ll wash this up. Did you eat anything for dinner? Stiles would want you to eat. I can whip you up something real fast.”
John shook his head and gave her a small smile, laying a hand against the side of her cheek. “No, but thank you sweet heart. You’re a good friend to Stiles, a good person,” he told her and kissed her forehead earning him a watery smile.
“We’ll all do whatever it takes until he’s safe again, John. I promise,” she whispered, touching the hand he had on her face.
He nodded and smiled again before moving to Lydia. He stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head. “Be safe, honey,” he whispered against her copper curls that were pulled back into a pony tail for once.
“I will, John. We all will. You too,” she replied, getting on her tip toes to kiss his cheek and then giving him a quick squeeze around the middle.
There was a line then, the werewolves a little more hesitant but loosening up after the Sheriff laughed and pulled Scott into a tight hug, mussing up his dark locks.
“You’re an idiot, but I love you,” he told the teen patting the side of his cheek.
Scott grinned his little puppy grin that, even with everything he’d been through, he hadn’t ever lost. “Love you too, dad,” he replied easily. It wasn’t the first time he’d called the sheriff dad.
Isaac was next and then Erica who hugged him for a long moment and gave him a face full of curls for his troubles. He kissed her temple and rubbed her back before Boyd cut in and they did their secret handshake. Jackson stepped forward and gave John a hug which he’d never done before but John wasn’t complaining; Jackson was a good kid once he got over himself and got a serving of humble pie, which Lydia served to him frequently. The last one left was Derek who was waiting by the door to the foyer with his hands stuck in the pockets of that leather jacket he never seemed to be without. John stepped forward and offered his hand.
“Derek,” he said somberly, face stoic as the werewolf reached out to grasp the older man’s hand. “Thanks for looking out for my boy. I owe you a lot of thanks.”
“I didn’t do it just for you, sir,” Derek responded gruffly and the sheriff smirked.
“I know,” he agreed, winking at the younger man. He turned back to the room. “Someone let me know what’s going on tomorrow. I’m not due back to the station until the afternoon.”
“I was thinking I’d stay the night actually,” Scott said, looking hesitant. “I want to be near his things. His scent…it calms me down.” The rest of the pack was nodding fervently, even the two human girls, before Scott was even done speaking.
John smiled softly. “As long as you let me sleep I don’t care where you stay, just keep it down. You know where the blankets are, Scott. Goodnight.” He waved a hand before heading up the stairs, sighing heavily and sounding incredibly tired. Damn. It was going to be a long day when he woke up.