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Standing in an empty warehouse, looking down at the hood of his mangled jeep, Stiles feels... hollow.No, worse. Gutted. Yeah, that's a much better descriptor for the way his ribs ache with every shallow wheeze he manages. The way his hand still shakes from how tightly he'd clung to the wheel as Lydia jammed his foot down against the accelerator. She'd used his love for her, uncaring that all she'd be leaving him with is burning eyes, a bleeding heart, (possibly literally at this juncture) and the remains of the only thing his mother had given him that he could still bear to look at.Silently he stares at the physical representation of just how fucked up his life has become. His dad hasn't come home since he tried to help Jackson. Lydia will never, ever love him, and why would she? She isn't his soulmate. No, his soulmate is a monster he once set fire to, and his ex best friend is a good for nothing bastard who either can't or won't percieve Stiles unless he needs something from him.For example, here he is, slowly bleeding out, and not one of the people here tonight had stopped to ask him if he needed help. Turning his gaze downwards to his blood soaked chest, Stiles contemplates if things would be easier if he just, stopped. Just crawled into his jeep and gave up.He's opening the door to his ruined car when he sees a trail of black slime across the floor.Rage and humiliation burning through his trembling limbs, he clenches his fists, grabs up his baseball bat and the gun in his glove compartment his father gave him for emergencies, and decides, 'Not yet.'His kind aren't meant to be killers, but Stiles is on the brink of death himself, so he no longer cares for finely drawn lines in the sand. Everything his mother ever told him growing up, all the special stories just for the two of them. She'd boasted that Unicorns were paragons of virtue and all things good in this world. Beautiful, majestic, magical, -merciful. Of course then she'd been murdered. Not that anyone else but Stiles was able to identify her mangled corpse. There was so little left of her. Bits and pieces, a gaping hole in the forehead of her equine form's skull. But she'd smelled the same. And so had Gerard even after all these years.His rotten stench had been all over the clearing his mother's mangled corpse had been dumped in. That was the only reason he'd managed to capture Stiles in the first place. That rancid smell had sent him into a panic, and the next thing he knew he was in a basement, drugged up to his eyeballs, being tortured for information by the monster who'd killed his mother.Probably for the same reason Gerard wanted the bite now. Cancer is a bitch and unicorn healing magic isn't as potent if it isn't gifted willingly, but the Argent elder never asks -he takes. Lucky for Stiles. He's been hoping for an opportunity like this since he found his mother's body and couldn't give his father closure because she hadn't ever told him their secret.Well. Not quite like this. Not abandoned and alone, dying because Gerard had given him something that's drastically slowed his healing. But beggars can't be choosers.Staggering round corner after corner, making his way deeper into the dark, he searches for the old bastard."Of all the people gathered here tonight, I must admit you're the last one I thought would come looking for little old me..." The monster's voice echoes nearby."Well you know what they say about assuming," Stiles mutters, quietly cocking his gun and looking for the source. "Hm. Well, I also know what they say about curiosity -but you're not a cat, are you Stiles..." He wheezes, chuckles echoing eerily around the alley. Stiles can't figure out which direction his irritating voice is coming from. Then he hears directly in his ear, "To think, having nine lives might have helped you."Uncaring of his injured ribs, Stiles whirls around and fires point blank at his chest just before Gerard can reach his throat with half formed claws. There's no way for him to miss with the geriatric fuck being so close.Gerard stares down in horror, and looks up in time for Stiles to hiss, "Unfortunately for you, your nine lives are up. This is for my mother," and fire the next shot directly into his forehead. He goes down with a wet crack as skull meets pavement.Hands shaking, Stiles stares down at the corpse and idly wonders if he should do something with the body. Not like it really matters since he's still dying, but he'd hate for this to be the last thing he leaves for his father to find. Another mess he'll have to clean up.Just as he's pondering fire starters and accelerants he can make quickly with parts of his ruined car the corpse rapidly dissolves into black goo."Yuck. Just. Ugh," Stiles gags, walking as swiftly away from the mess as his wobbly legs will carry him. Everything hurts, he's exhausted, cold, and it's so damn dark. He can barely see a thing, but he wants to at least try to make it home one last time.So focused on putting one foot in front of the other, he doesn't notice the person tapping towards him until they've collided, sending them both sprawling to the ground. Coughing, Stiles holds his aching ribs, and attempts to move off of whatever poor soul he's crushing beneath him."Fuckfuckfuck!"Stiles hisses as he knocks his side against the person's knee. Taking shallow breaths he tries once more to move away and notices blood dripping from beneath the man's head. Feeling guilty, he uses his waning healing abilities to try to fix whatever damage he's caused the man beneath him, and immediately feels extremely drained. Shit. The guy probably had cancer and he's accidentaly cured him.'Lucky guy,' Stiles muses, vision blurring. Arms failing him, he collapses, only to have a set of sturdy hands gently come up to brace him before he can once more crush the man beneath him."... Are you alright?" The man asks slowly, a soft reverence in his voice that Stiles would catch if he didn't feel like dog shit. No, he's definitely not okay, and the fact that the only person who's asked him that question in a long, long time is some stranger, is what finally has Stiles bursting into distressed tears after the hellish night he's had. How embarrassing."M' fine," Stiles chokes out, flailing weakly to get away from the gently bracing hands that only tighten their hold."Clearly not. This much blood isn't from you falling -I took the brunt of that. Did someone hurt you love?" The man asks carefully, a subtle, threatening undertone to the question if only Stiles were listening for it. Carefully the man sits up so that Stiles is holding onto his shoulders for balance. This allows them to make eye contact for the first time. Fiercely concerned dark gray eyes meet watery golden and Stiles can't help but feel a little comforted by the worry in the strangers gaze. "I- yes. But he's gone now, and -wait. Why am I explaining this to you? Look, my life's a mess, but you don't want to hear the whole poor Stiles sob story, and you wouldn't believe me if I told you," using the man's shoulders to steady himself, he stands and wipes his traitorous eyes, "Anyway, I'm sorry that I just knocked you over like that. Its been a long day, and I really need to go home. I have to make sure my dad isn't eating his way into a heart attack." The last part is a sad little lie Stiles wishes were true. His dad never comes home anymore, too busy cleaning up the messes he thinks his no good lying son is somehow a part of. Like Stiles is responsible for all the bad things that happen in this stupid town.Or maybe he just got tired of seeing his wife's eyes and the shit Stiles pulled was a good enough excuse to get away. "Oh I've no doubt that I'd believe you Stiles, and I certainly want to hear of everything that ails you," the man gently assures him, standing slowly before reaching down to grab... a cane? And sunglasses? Oh fuck. Seeing the dawning understanding on Stiles face the man inclines his head and reveals what Stiles has already realized, "You healed me. Gave a blind man back his sight, though I've no idea how. I owe you a great deal more than you'll ever know. More than I can possibly repay -though I'll certainly try." He swears, eyes never leaving Stiles, even when they briefly flare alpha red.Leaning in, he scents Stiles neck, eagerly marking him like he used to hope Peter would.Horrified, Stiles stumbles back, insisting, "Nonono. No.You want to repay me? Just forget this happened, and leave me alone. Please. Everyone I thought I could count on betrayed me and left me for dead when the last supernatural mess happened. I can't take anymore okay? Please just go."Red eyed and borderline fangy, the man demands, "Who. Give me their names, love, and rest assured, they won't be around to hurt you ever again." "No! That's not what I want either!" Stiles hisses, retreating further. Sure they'd all been assholes to him, but that doesn't mean he wants them dead. "I get it, you're grateful, but I don't need or want anything from you, so congratulations on your returned vision, and sayonara."Turning his back to the man, he hears, "I always honor my debts, Stiles.""I'm telling you I dont need that! I don't even know who you are!" Stiles groans, walking away from the determined lunatic."You may call me Deucalion. I'm going to take such good care of you..."Whirling around, Stiles prepares to give another, probably just as futile rant, only to feel the world tilt and darken.His last memory is of strong arms catching him and holding him close as he sadly whines, "I just wanted to go ho-home..." Bursting into their temporary den with his rapidly fading precious cargo, Deucalion growls, "There's been a slight change of plans." Laying Stiles across the kitchen's marble island, he looks to his emissary with cold blue eyes and commands, "Heal him Morrel. Now."Quick to comply, Marin rushes to her room to grab supplies. Deucalion wastes no time, and removes the boy's tattered, blood soaked clothing, leaving him lying pale and still in his boxers. Every inch of his chest and abdomen is layered with bruises, some of his ribs lying visibly uneven beneath his discolored skin."Duke... Your eyes!" Kali breathes, leaning in for a better look."He healed me," Deucalion reveals, running delicate fingers across Stiles' still features. "Which is why we're going to save him, and then we will convince him that he belongs here. With us...""I just don't understand. How is this possible? We tried everything! Hunted down every witch, warlock, and druid to no avail. Not even our own emissary could help. So how did this boy?" Kali wonders aloud, stepping aside as the woman returns to begin working on the pale human who smells of pain and heartache."...I don't know. He is clearly something very special. A diamond in the rough," Deucalion murmurs, eyes looking over Stiles as he watches Morell rub an assortment of herbs onto him with eager anticipation. Eyes flaring red with rage, he turns to the cage where Derek's former betas are clinging fearfully to one another, snarling, "And like me, he was betrayed by those he trusted. Failed by his former packmates...""Should we kill them then?" Ennis hopefully suggests, weaving closer to their enclosure. Erica whimpers and cowers into a bleak looking Boyd."No no... That would upset Stiles." Deucalion sneers at the two omegas."What's a Stiles?" Aiden asks, nose scrunching."This lovely creature here goes by the name Stiles. Your new assignment is to befriend him, protect him, and uncover his every desire so that I may give it to him. But you will not seduce him. He is mine. Do you understand?" Deucalion snarls the last part, demanding compliance.Ethan and Aiden rapidly nod their heads, staring fearfully into Deucalion's un-blinded eyes."What about our plans for Hale and McCall-?" Kali begins to ask."Unimportant. I've uncovered something far more valuable here. Stiles shall be our new goal. All we have to do is convince Stiles that he's better off with us. Get him to willingly accept a mating bite from me-" Deucalion starts."A mating bite?!" Ennis asks incredulously."Yes. He's stunning in all ways, who wouldn't want him? And once he's accepted my mark, it will be impossible for him to part from me. We will leave, and take with us the most valuable treasure this miserable town had to hide," Deucalion boasts, then continues, "But first..." Sneering down at the omegas, he pops his claws and says decisively, "We can't afford to scare Stiles off this soon in the game. We'll have to change our story a little.""You want to wipe their memories and let them go??" Ethan asks unsurely, eyeing the two cowards who'd abandoned their badly injured friend. "After they've told us everything they know about Stiles. You'll have to submerge them in a river many, many times afferwards to wash our scent from them of course," Deucalion chuckles, then motions the twins forth. "No sense putting it off further, let's begin..."Bloodcurdling screams ring throughout the night.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The first thing Stiles registers when he wakes up is a general lack of pain, and the ridiculously soft pillows packed in around him. Pillows that don't smell like him, but a room that does. And something potent. Like lighter fluid...?"Grab that one too. Why would anyone wear this crap?" A voice on the left calls out."Hell if I know -just get rid of it." The same voice says from his right.Struggling, Stiles blinks his heavy eyes open, then scrambles backwards as he takes in the two identical strangers rummaging through his closet. "What the fuck?!" He shouts, very, very confused."Yeah. Thats how I feel about ninety-five percent of your closet." The one flinging his clothes into a garbage bag huffs. "Uh. Says the guy stealing my clothes!" Stiles gapes, completely offended. "Burning your clothes." Grunts the twin standing over him."Relax. We already bought you new ones." The other attempts to assure him. "I- you- No! You stop that! No burning of the Stiles' clothes!" He shouts, scrambling against the plush new pillows and sheets and wondering when and how the fuck they had replaced his mattress. Just as he's reaching to yank the garbage bag away, thing one tosses it to thing two, who whips out a lighter and lights it before flinging said flaming bag out the open window.Gaping incredulously, he sputters with outrage and rushes to the window, watching as smoke begins billowing out of a metal garbage can below."..." Stiles can't even. His favorite red hoodie had been in there! "You monsters..." He whines, slouching so his arms hang limp over the sill. 'Why is this happening?!' He wonders. A finger taps his defeated shoulder. Furious, he whirls around, and demands, "What?!"One of the twins is holding out a lunch box, the other is offering a crumbling tome that looks to be-"A bestiary?" He breathes, reaching for it. Deaton wasn't keen on sharing information, and the internet had proved useless throughout the whole Kanima ordeal. "And curly fries." Thing one offers, opening the lunchbox to reveal crispy golden treasures that have his mouth watering. "Who the hell are you??" Stiles demands, warily eyeing the tempting gifts. Gifts that he especially would be tempted by if one knew him well enough."We're your new best friends," thing two rumbles. "I'm Aiden-""- And I'm Ethan. Welcome to the Alpha pack," he grins, both of their eyes flaring red."Alpha pack-?" He begins, very confused by the events that are taking place this morning."You made a pretty big impression on our Alpha." Ethan reveals."Deucalion." Aiden helpfully offers. "Deu- wait a god damn minute. The guy I ran into last night. I told him I didn't need anything! How am I even alive?" Stiles wonders, looking down to see that his chest is layer after layer of bandages. It kind of stings now that he's thinking about it. Curiously he moves to prod at one of his ribs, when Ethan grabs his hand gently but firmly and moves it away. Aiden winds closer and grips his shoulder until black lines begin crawling up his veins."It was close. But our emmisary was able to remove the poisons from your system and you started healing pretty quickly after that. You're still injured, but my brother and I have been draining your pain all morning so you shouldn't be able to feel much," Ethan explains. "Oh. Uh. Thank you?" Stiles says, bewildered and grateful, but unsure how to proceed considering that these two ass holes had just burned all his clothes. But they also said they bought new ones... And they had tempting gifts... "How'd you know I like curly fries?" He demands, eyeing the trespassers with suspicion."You've eaten them in your room so many times the smell is practically ingrained in the walls," Aiden frowns, nose scrunching."Ah." he accepts, refusing to be embarrassed as he contemplates what else they can smell. Attempting to distract himself, he grabs up a hand full of fries and pops a few into his mouth. The twins grin like he's done something praise worthy, then Ethan begins hearding him towards his closet. "Relax. We can tell what you need... And unlike the idiots who didn't even care to see if you were alive or dead last night-" Ethan sneers, gently rubbing his hands over Stiles' shoulders as he flinches, the words hurting his heart more than he wants to admit."-We take care of our own." Aiden finishes, possessively running his fingers through Stiles' hair. It feels nice, and what they're saying sounds nice, but Stiles has been the last player picked for so many years he doesn't know what to make of the situation he's quickly becoming tangled in. "What do you want from me?" He damands tersely, arms hugging himself in a futile effort to protect his already trampled heart."Just be ours, and we'll be yours. A pack that looks out for one another no matter what." Aiden offers, watching Ethan rummage through the new clothes for something suitable. Something that would please their alpha who'd taken his time to scent all of Stiles' shirts thoroughly. Any supernatural would take one whiff and know to steer clear.
"What if I dont want to?" He asks warily, though he's very tempted. He's felt so alone for so long, the thought of having a group of people who might actually give a damn about him is enough to make his eyes tear up. He doesn't even know these people. God his life's a mess.
But at this point what does he have to lose?
As if sensing the precarious ledge he's teetering on, Ethan soothes him, "You don't have to decide now, but hopefully soon, you'll realize who has your best interests in mind. Until then, we'll just do our best to convince you."
"Burning my clothes is supposed to convince me?" Stiles huffs, rotating through a rollercoaster of conflicting emotions.
"Nah, that was so we could get you to wear shit that doesn't smell like other wolves. Also, we looked through your old crap and didn't think you'd miss any of it when what we got you is so much better." Aiden smirks.
"...You're an asshole." He decides, taking the outfit Ethan hands him with great reluctance.
"You say that now, but we'll grow on you," Aiden chuckles, slinking behind Stiles as he heads for the bathroom.
"Yeah. Like cancer," he retorts, slamming the door in their obnoxiously smug faces. Turning, he assesses his bundle of snug looking skinny jeans, a white shirt, and a more slim fitting red hoody. Alpha red of course. It looks nice, and not too far off from what he usually wears that he'd feel uncomfortable wearing it -not that he'll tell either of those smirking bastards that.
"You might want to hurry -we're already running late for our first day at your school!" One of the twins calls.
"Shit! How late?!" He demands, carefully scrambling into the outfit and flailing out the door. Unless he's in his shifted form, he has no grace whatsoever.
"I dunno. An hour?" Aiden shrugs, uncaring.
"Damn it. My dad's going to-!" He starts, then slumps, remembering how long it's been since his father bothered to come home. He probably wouldn't care.
Ethan gently wraps an arm around him and Aidan pets his hair, asking, "Wanna talk about it?"
"Not really." Stiles deadpans, squirming out of their hold to grab his bag and head for the door. Upon opening it, he freezes in his tracks, taking in the two motorcycles in place of his jeep. A helmet is dumped into his hands.
"You know how to drive one of these?" Aiden smirks, swaggering over to straddle the one on the right. Stiles slowly shakes his head back and forth.
"Do you wanna learn?" Ethan purrs, straddling the other and patting the front half of the seat. Aiden gives Ethan a warning growl.
Stiles stares for a long moment, then caves, actually pretty excited as he drawls, "Suuure... Why not?"
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
High on adrenaline, Stiles reluctantly slows and parks as he pulls up to the school, Ethan cackling with delight over his shoulder."Wow..." Stiles gasps, removing his helmet. The speed, the wind, the rush, it all reminds him of what it felt like to run freely through the forest, pushing his body as fast as it can go. He really misses the freedom he'd had before the wolves popped up."Yeah. I thought you'd like that," Ethan grins, hand running gently over Stiles' racing hearts -thankfully still in sync. It's a shame that so many supernatural creatures can just poke their heads from the woodwork, but if he ever tried, someone, -be it a hunter seeking glory, or a desperate soul trying to save a loved one, they'd hunt him down and tear him to shreds just for being what he is."You're trespassing," Growls a supremely pissed off voice to the right."Why must you always state the obvious nephew," sighs another familiar voice. "But he's right. You've stepped well into our borders and didn't have the decency to drop by for a little chat. You did stop by, but you ruined our door and pissed off my poor, high-strung nephew.""We... Apologize. There was a misunderstanding. We're not here to harm any of you," Ethan says slowly. He isn't lying. Like werewolves can hear lies, unicorns can instinctively tell wether or not someone is telling the truth. Lies run like chills down Stiles' spine."Misunderstanding?" Stiles asks, looking over Ethan's shoulder to where Derek and Peter are leaning against Derek's Camaro, their eyes cold and figurative hackles raised. His eyes meet theirs, and they tense further."Then why, pray tell, do you have Stiles?" Peter drawls, shoving off the car into a more aggressive stance, Derek following suit. Ethan sneers at them and Aiden stalks over to stand between the Hales and Stiles as well."Why do you care? Your lot left him for dead last night." Aiden sneers, snarling when he sees Stiles' shoulders bunch up in distress."What are you talking about." Derek growls, eyes glancing over Stiles."We would have smelled it if he was in as bad of a state as you claim," Peter frowns, glaring."Then what do you call this?" Ethan grits, raising a hand to cup Stiles' neck. Peter starts up a low rumble, but Ethan doesn't move until his hand has run black with all the pain he's draining. Peter's face goes bloodless and Derek looks like he's going to be sick. "Even if you couldn't smell anything, there are other ways to tell when pack is suffering.""Not if their pack bonds were this flimsy. Pathetic." Aiden snorts derisively, turning to herd an overwhelmed Stiles into the building. Was the reason they'd been unable to smell his pain his fault? Had he, in a moment of fear, subconsciously used his abilities to mask his scent?"Whatever you're here for. Leave him out of this." Derek growls, prowling closer."No can do Hale." Ethan pauses, grinning maliciously at them, red eyes flaring brighlt."We're here for him. Only way we're leaving, is if we're taking him with," Aiden states firmly, eyes also gleaming."You could try to challenge us, but I don't think your little band of misfit toys could handle the Alpha pack," Ethan dismisses. "Besides, do you really want to start something out in the open like this?""Could we not do that?" Stiles asks, not too hopeful seeing how pissed off the Hales look. He doesn't get it. Neither one had ever acted like they'd cared the slightest bit about him. This is probably just a big pissing contest over territory.There's a very long, tense moment as the four wolves eye one another up. Then the school bell rings. "Oh shit. I think it's Harris's period next!" Stiles groans, looking towards the building with horror."You don't like him." Aiden frowns, ignoring the Hales to pat Stiles' back."Understatement. And he really doesn't like me." He sighs."Stiles. I don't know what's happening, but we'll get you out of this," Derek swears, eyes attempting to meet his, but he just looks determinedly away."...Y'know. There were many. Many. Many, times that I could have used your help. Especially last night. Never thought I'd be the kind of guy who hunts down and kills the asshole who tortured me, but I guess I am," Stiles says slowly, both proud and ashamed of what he did in spite of his mother's teachings. But most of what his Mother had told him when he was young didn't seem to apply to him. Like soul mates. She'd told him that one day he'd stumble across his mate -though maybe he'd have more than one, and that'd be perfectly fine too. A person -or people, who would complete and match him in ways he couldn't even begin to imagine. Good people, just like her son.
For years he'd been smitten with the breathlessly intelligent Lydia Martin, sure that she was the one. He'd been so certain that someday she'd realize they were MFEO...
Then werewolves happened and a psychopathic former coma patient had grinned at him and breathed, "You must be Stiles." Stiles hearts had fluttered out of synch, every molecule honing in on that beautiful, tragically burned figure. Thankfully the wolf hadn't noticed his sudden daze, and Derek showed up just in time to get his ass kicked.
Like usual.
Later on Stiles dug up everything he could on the Hales and his destined mate. He'd wanted a reason for the madness, something that would give him a clear enough conscience to accept his monstrous soulmate -and boy did he find one. Each and every last person Peter had hurt or killed, had been connected to the fire. Some bitch named Kate Argent had bribed the townspeople, seduced Derek, and murdered the Hales.
His soulmate wasn't a terrible person! All Peter was doing was avenging his family.
Then he'd run into Peter again.
Lovely, intelligent, innocent Lydia, lying so still in a pool of her own blood had trampled the growing speck of hope Stiles had had for his mate. For a future with him. Using his magic, Stiles managed to speed up Lydia's healing before he was dragged off and interrogated. Yes, Stiles hearts had clenched when he'd refused the bite from Peter, but not because he'd been lying. He'd wanted a different kind of bite from him, and it hurt knowing he could never accept one.
Then Stiles had done the unthinkable and helped put his mate in the ground. With fire of all things. He'd named Peter the monster, but how was what they'd done any better? It wasn't. Stiles mane, once pure as the driven snow had darkened to molten silver from grief that night.
When Gerard had arrived, Stiles lost what little good he'd had left in his life. His father's faith and trust was the first to go -and wow had that hurt like a bitch when he'd turned to Scott over his own son. Then Scott had made a choice that there was no going back from. When Stiles had been kidnapped off the lacrosse field and beaten within an inch of his life, Scott never noticed. Worse, after the kanima had been cured, and every werewolf within a two mile radius could smell his pain(though maybe not), Scott had left him behind to go after Allison.
Everyone had left him behind, although a newly resurrected Peter had stared wide eyed at him for a while and seemed reluctant to go when Derek forcefully dragged him off. Apparently he'd been haunting Lydia and used her to perform some ritual to bring himself back. He looks a little more there than he did the last time Stiles saw him, but Stiles doesn't want to let himself care for the wolf. He's proven repeatedly that he's not the kind of person Stiles should to end up with. Plus, he's done his research.
Werewolves have mates too, and are supposedly irresistibly drawn to them, but Peter never seemed interested. So Stiles probably isn't his mate, even though he's definitely Stiles'. Which is for the best, because all he wants now is for everyone to fuck off and leave him the hell alone. Of course that isn't panning out either.
"Tortured?!" Peter roars, snapping Stiles back to the present. His eyes flash icy blue though Stiles doesn't see it because he's already turned his back on them. The twins rumble unhappily as well."The point is even if I did need it, -which I definitely don't! Now? I don't want it. You've treated me like shit from day one, when all I've ever done is try to help your ungrateful asses. I've given up everything to help you and keep your secrets. My time, my sleep, my best friend, my dad, even my mother's jeep-! But you never cared. I dont know why you're pretending to now, but just -stop. Leave me the hell alone!" Stiles chokes, holding back bitter tears as he stalks towards the school, the twins hovering protectively on either side of him.Neither Peter or Derek give chase, but it sounds like someone is whining.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
While the twins head to the office for their schedules, Stiles shrugs them off, insisting that they can meet back up at lunch. He has one minute before the second bell rings and he's determined not to be late. Harris is already shitty to him on a regular basis, he doesn't want to know how bad he'd get if Stiles dared to show up late for chemistry. Dashing around corners, Stiles slides into the room and sits just as it rings.Harris sneers at him but says nothing. Stiles is counting that as a win. He's actually starting to feel a little better when he hears a threatening rumble behind him. A hand with too sharp nails grips his shoulder. Turning, he sees Scott, eyes flaring a more red-ish gold, and Isaac glaring beside him and furiously thinks, 'No.' Reaching up, he grabs Scott's hand where its pricking his shoulder, and feels a powerful tug from deep inside himself. A vivid, violent, need to dethrone the unworthy soul. At any cost.His magic lashes out and a red spark snaps between them. Scott's startled eyes fade to gold once more, and he seems very confused. Stiles is confused as well. Gasping, he feels a sudden rush of power and has to fight to keep his most basic protective shields up to hide what he is. Everything in him wants to shift and gore the fowl beast that dared to touch him when he is neither pure, worthy, or his mate. He's just so angry. Glaring at Scott, Stiles feels his eyes burn, and his former friend jerks away with a low whine.Isaac gapes at him and whispers, "Your eyes. They're... They're red!"Stiffening, Stiles scrambles up, covers his eyes, and rushes from the room, completely ignoring Harris's hysterical screams as he makes a mad dash for the locker room. Bursting inside, he rushes to the mirror, only to stagger back with horror. His eyes are red. A gleaming blood red."What's happening to me?!" He cries, shaking hands lifting to trace the crimson reflecting in the mirror. He isn't a werewolf, this is definitely NOT normal!!"That's what I'd like to know love," a voice calls, echoing around the locker room.Whirling to the side, Stiles backs up against the mirror and demands, "The hell are you doing here?!" Deucalion just continues forth until he's caging Stiles against the sink. Purring, he winds his fingers through Stiles' hair and gently draws his head back, leaving his neck completely exposed. Shivering, Stiles goes limp into the hold, his hearts skipping several beats before kicking into third gear with confused anxiety as Deucalion leans in and breathes deeply."Rest assured, I'll never be far from your side. Everything about you seems designed to arrest my attention. Beautiful. Stunning. You smell divine... And my my Stiles. Wherever did you get such pretty red eyes?" the Alpha rumbles approvingly, finger gently tracing beneath his eye."I- I don't know!" Stiles whimpers, overwhelmed for the umpteenth time today. Deucalion leans in to breathe him in again and his face flushes."I can help you find out... Just tell me what you are. No matter what it is, I'll protect you. Trust me Stiles," Deucalion begs, lips brushing lightly over his quivering pale throat."...You won't tell anyone?" Stiles pleads. He's alone in this world, his mother the only one who ever understood him. She'd know what's happening, but she's long gone, and he might be the last for all he knows. There isn't anyone he can go to for help. 'Maybe I'm dying,' Stiles dreads. He'd been so ready yesterday, but a small and steadily growing part of him doesn't want to go down just yet. He needs help, and this man claims to owe him..."Never without your approval," he swears, lifting away from his neck to meet Stiles' eyes. Stiles, hearing the honesty in his words, caves."Don't you dare fucking laugh... I-" he mumbles the truth very lowly, too low for even a werewolf to hear unless they were as close as Deucalion is now, practically sharing his air. He doesn't laugh. Eyes full of awe, Deucalion runs reverent hands over his chest, pressing directly over his racing hearts. Close enough to feel the miniscule difference in his thudding pulse."You would allow me, of all creatures, to touch you...?" He breathes, an off, harshly pained crack to his words. "How can you possibly-? And you saved me. You gave me back my life!" He's tense, clearly distressed, but Stiles doesn't have the faintest idea why. "How can I possibly be worthy enough?" "I mean. You saved me too...? Thank you, by the way. You didn't have to do that," Stiles tries to console the distressed man who's sworn to help him. The alpha's lips twitch, and he starts to smile at him, but something must cross his mind, because he tenses, eyes darkening. "...We're leaving. It isn't safe to discuss things here." Deucalion insists tersely, sweeping him up bridal style as he rushes through the doors to the lacross field.Face red, Stiles clings to him for dear life and hopes he's made the right call.Unknown to either of them, a pair of cool grey eyes watch them leave from within the mirror.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Sequestered away in the highest room, in the tallest condominium in town, Stiles lays on the alpha's bed within a giant pillow nest, drowning in the fluffy duvet. The big bad wolf himself is leaning against the headboard, one hand to petting through his hair, an open bestiary in the other.Stiles would help, but he's still coming down from his meltdown. His eyes have remained determinedly red, and haven't shifted back no matter what breathing techniques he's attempted. Which is why he'd had a full blown panic attack after leaving the school. In response Deucalion had smothered him in both pillows and affection. Stiles would never admit it out loud but he's pretty touch starved at this point so even though its a little weird getting cuddled by a complete stranger he's just letting it happen. That, and the fact that despite Deucalion pulling pain, his back is killing him.Looking down to Stiles Deucalion inquires, "The man you said hurt you-""Gerard," Stiles hisses, fists clenching at the memory."Gerard Argent?" He rumbles, voice crackling like gravel and fangs dropping from behind his lips. Maneuvering so that he's hovering protectively over Stiles, he demands, "Why?""He wanted to send Scott a message." Stiles says quietly. Heart aching, he reveals, "Scott... didn't get it.""Perhaps he needs a different message," Deucalion rumbles darkly. "Please don't," Stiles half heartedly protests. Realization dawning on the alpha's face he breathes, "The thing you killed the night we met was Gerard Argent.""...He killed my mother," Stiles bitterly reveals, hugging his legs to his chest. "So yeah. I killed him." When Stiles meets the older man's eyes, there isn't anything but awe in them."What a magnificent creature you are," he murmurs. Leaning in he begins to nuzzle Stiles temple, pauses, and asks, "Does your hair usually turn white?" Hands flying up Stiles pats at his hair as if that will enable him to see it, then when that proves futile, runs to the ensuite. Lo and behold, white is rapidly spreading through his hair. His shifted form isn't even white! It's chestnut with golden speckles where his moles are."What the hell is happening to me?!" He wails, sinking to the floor so he doesn't have to watch his body's latest betrayal. His latest meltdown is interrupted by Scott's ringtone. Years of habit, has him automatically accepting the call."Stiles! Where are you? You smelled really weird in class, and what the heck was happening to your eyes? Also, Derek wouldn't stop calling me and now he's at my house with his creepy uncle. They keep saying ridiculous stuff like you're going to leave with some new pack that's just shown up. Which is crazy because you're by best friend so you're definitely part of my pack and you wouldn't just leave for no reason-" Scott rants, and it isn't until he says that last line that Stiles can't help but giggle. A giggle that quickly devolves into unhinged sounding laughter. Although Stiles doesn't find any of this funny.No reason he says? No Reason?!"You have no idea do you Sc- McCall?" Stiles starts, forcing himself to use Scott's last name. He just can't do this anymore. "Listen carefully. We? Are no longer a we. Because you and I are no longer friends. Haven't been for some time now, I just didn't want to accept it because I've known you since we were kids. We had each other's backs through everything. Your dad leaving, my mom dying, all of it. But then you turned into a werewolf and suddenly I dropped to the bottom of your priority list," Stiles begins bitterly. "For a while I just kept making up excuses for you, because I blamed myself for what happened to you. But you turning into a werewolf wasn't my fault, it was your fault for following me. YOU decided to follow me. I am not responsible for your decisions.""Which means that all the times you've cancelled on me for other people, the times you wouldn't listen, when you hurt me or tried to kill me, when you left me for dead, left me to be tortured, or knew that I was injured and didn't ask if I was alright? That's on you too. So no, I wouldn't leave you for no reason. You've given me plenty," Stiles says solemnly."Stiles I-" Scott begins, his voice sounding choked up."If you're about to apologize? Don't bother. I don't accept it. All I want, is for you to never speak to me again," he finishes, hanging up before Scott can get another word in. Fiddling with his phone he starts to scroll through the contact settings to block the number, and winds up in the previous calls section. No one has called him in weeks. Not even his father, and that breaks his heart more than anything because his dad is the only family he has left and he doesn't even have him.Scott starts calling him again and a dam within him bursts. Eyes watering he throws the phone at the wall as hard as he can. It shatters, glass and metal spraying outward, one of the shards cutting his cheek. Screaming and cursing he slams his fists against the ground, uncaring as they too begin to bleed, and not noticing when the tile begins cracking.Why does everyone leave him? Why doesn't anyone want him? What's wrong with him?!He must have said some of that aloud, because Deucalion carefully grasps his wrists to prevent the next swing and swears, "I will never leave you, and I most assuredly want you. In every way you'll have me Stiles." Sobbing his wretched heart out he clutches Deucalion close as the man lifts him into his arms and carries him away from the mess he's made. "There there...," the alpha soothes, grabbing towel on their way out to wrap Stiles' quickly healing hands, "Let it all out. I've got you. No one will treat you like that fool ever again... I'll make sure of it." His words raise a tiny red flag, but Stiles ignores it.Because this person is his last straw. The last time he'll ever hope that he actually matters to someone, and if Deucalion fails to live up to his promise? Stiles will put him and every other person who's ever wronged him in the ground.