Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

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The past couple of weeks had been nothing but peaceful and event free, so Stiles should have known better. Since when was it peaceful in Beacon Hills? Answer was – NEVER. Some days Stiles wondered how he had lived… or more like, survived for seventeen years in blissful ignorance of the supernatural shenanigans going on right under his nose. He vaguely remembered a time where he had to convince Scott to do little teenage rebelling, like sneaking out after dark. Now he would have done anything for a night spent in his room, under the covers of his bed. Sleeping the night away and not hunt for things that usually went bump in the night, had multiple rows of sharp teeth, the stuff of nightmares come to life and were trying to maim and kill them. But this was his life now and he will, God damn, live it to the fullest potential, even if it kills him, which it might(jury is out on that one still, though Stiles guesses it’s in the 90% area).

A crash against the passenger side door tore him from his thoughts and back to the reality, meaning – running for his life(via his Jeep, but that’s semantics). With a swear Stiles steadied the car on the road and wished that whoever, or whatever was chasing him will get a gruesome death, preferably by the packs hand, but Stiles wasn’t picky. A massive monster truck squishing it would do too.

Besides, what was with everyone damaging his baby? The car had been through so much. It had saved lives, for crying out loud, and still people treat it like garbage. Even the ones that had been saved by it. Peter had ripped it up like a can, Derek had bled all over the seats, Erica even had smacked him in the face with one of his own cars parts. He had had to crash into Jackson to save his friends. If given the chance Stiles didn’t want to even imagine what Boyd or Isaac would do to his Jeep. Not to mention the perfectly manicured hands of Lydia. Even Scotty had punched his car in frustration.

Stiles had played with the thought of painting his Jeep with paint that had mountain ash mixed in it, just to pay back the wolfy kind for every ill intent they had come up to damage his car again. But he had decided against it. If he had done that no one of the furries would be able to ride in his car again. And that didn’t do. But around now, Stiles wished he had done it, so that the thing, that chased him(whatever it was) would be met with a barrier of the supernatural force field kind.

Stiles glanced at his phone lying on the passenger seat and contemplated for a second his dad’s hour long lecture of ‘driving while on phone’, but this was clearly an emergency. So he should be excused from the rule, right?

Though the moment his hand left the steering wheel to get the device, a gut twisting scratch echoed through the Jeep, followed by a loud bang and Stiles had to try hard to stay on the road, and not crash completely. The Jeep slid off the road and in the outskirt of the Preserve coming to a bumpy halt, nearly missing a tree. Stiles muttered a curse and had the time for a fleeting thought of ‘You spend too much time in the workshop as it is, baby!’ before his vision went black.

-*-*-

Derek was looking out the loft’s window, eyes absently scanning over the town slowly sliding into darkness as the sun spread the last of its light before sinking behind the horizon. He took a deep, calming breath and let it slip past his lips in a long sigh. Although for any onlooker he would seem calm, the little twitching of muscles in Derek’s crossed arms gave away how tense he really was.

It was Friday. Pack night. Most of the pack was already here and bickering over what to watch on the massive flatscreen TV in the middle of his living room space(Lydia and Stiles had forced him to get one. “How can you not have a TV?! You are an Alpha now, Derek. You should provide for the pack. And that means you need a TV.” They had informed him while discussing the best placement for the device) It was supposed to calm them. To strengthen the bounds between the individuals and so let the trust between them grow. Play time, a means to return to normality from the almost weekly supply of monsters coming their way. Stiles had even made a goddamn chart. And Derek could see it somehow worked. But that wasn’t what got him on the edge. He had long given up arguing with the teens surrounding him and let the flow of things take him. Amazingly it had spared him lot of headache and bound him closer to his pack in the process.

But this wasn’t just his inner neat freak/grumpy wolf(Stiles’ words, not his) showing his head. If he had to be honest, Derek didn’t know himself what made his skin itch to do something. Make the pack listen and go on alert. To shift and run and find… whatever his wolf had sensed.

Taking one more deep breath Derek sighed again.

“What has you so tense, nephew?” Peter stepped from behind him, mirroring his posture, but actually radiating calm as he stopped besides Derek. “I’m sure the pups will let you retreat to your own den of brooding and loneliness, if you ask nicely. No need to scowl and mess with everyone’s evening. After all those ‘pack nights’ are there to let all of us relax.” A small smile stretched over Peter’s lips, when Isaac and Erica’s heads turned to the two Hales. Clearly have had overheard the conversation.

“You don’t want to watch the movie, Derek?” Isaac asked, craning his head almost fully backwards to see them from the position on the floor, where he had taken his seat between Allison’s legs.

“You know the Creeper is right, Boss man. You can sashay off any time. As long, as we can stay here. You know… movie, company and free food.” Erica smiles and pops some popcorn into her mouth for emphasis while making herself more comfortable where she has perched herself up on Boyd’s lap, while the guy had taken over one of the armchairs.

Derek rolled his eyes and willed his muscles to relax. He is being paranoid or something. Or overly stressed. It’s no wonder with the almost constant weekly supply in supernatural bullshit that comes their way. And that is why his wolf is on alert for danger. This is stupid and he should relax, join his pack an-

The thought got lost as his phone went off in the back pocket of Derek’s jeans. Fishing out the angrily vibrating piece of plastic Derek put it to his ear.

“Scott.”

“Hey, Derek. Is Stiles there?”

Derek’s heart does a small squeeze and he tries his hardest to ignore the bubbling feeling of dread that reared its head suddenly. He swallows and answers. “No.”

“That’s weird…” Scott trails off and mumbles something away from the phones speaker.

“Why you ask?” He asks Scott when the co-Alpha of the pack doesn’t elaborate his reasons for this call. Derek had to know. Has to shut his wolf up, who is growling under his skin a mix of See?! and I told you so! while Scott mumbles something again and it sounds like he is talking to Kira before he answers Derek.

“He isn’t picking up his phone.” And Derek knows this is bad. Because with anyone else it wouldn’t be a big deal. Hell, Scott is the worst on picking up his phone when needed. But Stiles? Stiles never misses to answer. If he is in school, or busy he answers via text, but he always does.

Derek feels a growl rumble in his chest and he doesn’t stop it from climbing up his throat and out his clenched teeth, doesn’t really want to, to be honest. He had felt that something had been off and now there is proof. Something had happened. And that something had happened to a spastic, lanky, sarcastic, somewhat genius human beta of his pack. He buried his claws in the plain of his free palm, feeling the skin break. Derek took a breath, letting the blood and pain flow from the puncture wounds in an attempt to steady himself.

“Where did you see him last?” Derek hears and feels the slight anxious shift of his pack in the room. They clearly listening in on the phone call now, after their Alpha had had to ground himself from wolfing out.

“You think something happened to him?” Scott asked. His voice worried, but slightly skeptic. Always the optimist.

“Scott, its Stiles. How many times do you know of him not answering his phone?” Derek’s voice came out little more of a growl than he liked it, but this had aggravated his wolfs itching dread. He had sensed it. He had felt that something wasn’t right and there was. And he had ignored it. Was about to sit back and let the evening wash over him and not care.

“At school.” There is a scowl in Scott’s voice as he answers Derek’s question, probably from not recalling a time his best friend had ever let his calls go unanswered. “I went with Kira to her place before heading to yours. Stiles had detention. Harris hates him.” Scott’s adds by reflex. Derek had heard his fair share of what a dick Harris had been and how he hates the very guts of one Stiles Silinski(What? He doesn’t always zone out the rants Stiles bombards him with)

“So, if whatever has happened to him didn’t happen at school, it got to him on the road to here.” Derek says, not quite sure he meant to say it to Scott or if he is thinking out loud and his mind supplies that this particular habit is a courtesy of watching one human Beta do this constantly. Derek scowls at the thought, while Scott hums lightly in response.

“I and Kira will go to school. It’s closer from her place. You and the others take the road and Preserve.” Scott’s voice makes it sound like a question. Like he wants Derek’s approval, but in the same time doesn’t leave space for arguing. Derek grunts in agreement. He was about to suggest the same anyway. “Right. So, if we or you guys find something – call or text. If there is still nothing after, let’s say two hours, we meet back at your loft and.. uh, make a plan.”

Derek could hear the little cringe in Scott’s voice at the word ‘plan’. Stiles was the one with the plans. Always had been. They mostly ignored them and tried to do it their own way, which more than not went south and made them use the plan, slightly modified, in the end anyway. And after everything had been taken care of had to listen to Stiles complain about no one listening to his genius ideas, having death wishes and somehow ruined clothing. Swearing he will stop caring about the next ‘baddy’ that comes their way, only to break that promise the moment a supernatural shows his head around the packs territory. Planning again and complaining after.

Ending the call Derek turned to the rest of his pack that already stood in waiting for orders, movie and food forgotten. They had gone quite some time till they got to this state of mind of friendship, of pack, of family. The Alpha felt a rush of pride flood his body before he shooed it away. No distractions. One of their own was missing.

“Stiles doesn’t answer his phone and he should have been here by now. Scott and Kira are looking at school for him. We scan through the forest and along the road to the loft.” Derek repeats, although the werewolf part of the pack most likely heard the whole conversation anyway. “Find something – give a call. If nothing, meet back here in two hours.”

The Alpha pauses to retrieve his car keys.

“I don’t get why we are worried about Stilinski. He probably just shut off his phone or something. He is most likely lost in some crappy book or found something shiny and got distracted. He will turn up when he gets too hungry.” Jackson snorted, using the quiet moment to offer his look on the situation.

“Shut up, Whittemore!” Erica hissed from the doorway where she and the rest had already moving to get their jackets and getting dressed. “Derek is right. Stiles never shuts his phone off or doesn’t answer his calls and you know that. Stop whining and get moving!”

“Isaac.” Derek tossed the keys to the young Beta who caught them with ease. “You, Allison, Lydia and Liam take the car. Look for him on the road. Rest with me in the Preserve. Make sure your phones are on. If you find anything send a pack message.”

“Someone should stay here in case Stiles turns up.” Lydia’s voice echoes through the room. “ Jackson had some truth in the things he said. He might have bumped into something unexpected and lost his phone. If he does turn up here and we are all gone, there is no way for him to contact us and call the search off. So, I will stay here. Besides I’m not dressed for squeezing in a crowded car or running through the woods. I will be of more use staying put.”

Lydia spoke from the armchair she had occupied the whole evening, her eyes on her nails as if to looking for a microscopic crack in her perfect manicure. She hadn’t even moved when the rest of the pack had gone to retrieve their jackets or while Derek spoke of their plan. Although her face didn’t betray any emotions, Derek could tell she was as worried for Stiles as was the rest. And he had to admit, having someone stay at the loft was a good idea.

Not everything in the world wanted them dead, right? Stiles could have been… well, Stiles and tripped on air, got himself tangled in the poison ivy or decided that a late autumn swim fully clothed and with phone still in his pocket is a good idea. For science, or to make sure a siren isn’t living at the Beacon Hills bay. With their luck, that is what happened and Derek will skin Stiles alive for making them all worry like that.

“I will stay too.” Peter morphed out of a shadowy corner. Derek honestly had forgotten he had been there. After the whole coming back from dead his uncle had lost his scent and almost all of his presence. He was like a ghost clad in bones and flesh. “It may be nothing. Yes. But it might be someone after the pack and being alone without protection is not a wise idea. You are most definitely not weak in any way, but a pair of claws can’t hurt.” Peter shrugged lightly smiling at Lydia, who threw daggers with her eyes back at the elder Hale.

“I’m staying too.” Jackson announced and sat down next to Lydia on the chairs armrest. Derek didn’t even protest, he himself didn’t want to leave anyone of the pack alone even for a minute with Peter. He had been his uncle, but after the fire and coming back from being killed by Derek himself, the younger Hale didn’t know what Peter was anymore. The Alpha looked over the three, nodded and hoarded the rest out the door.

-*-*-

“How come Isaac gets to drive?” Erica shrugged her leather jacket tighter over her shoulders while she complained, glaring at the curly haired teen, who met her eyes with a smug smile adorning his face. Isaac gave a little wink and disappeared behind the wheel of Derek’s Camaro, Allison claiming shotgun and Liam climbing in the back.

“You are better at picking up a scent. Isaac is better at observing. So you are coming with me and Boyd to the Preserve.” Derek put a hand on the blonde Beta’s shoulder and squeezed lightly. He doesn’t mention that Allison and Isaac work better together, or that he wants Erica in the forest where her ferocity would be more handy to slice something in half, than behind the wheel of a car. His car.

Derek thinks for a second before adding. “Besides, if it turns out Stiles is fine, you can get my car for the entire weekend to yourself.” That released a brilliant and sharp smile over Erica’s face and she turns lightly back, most likely sticking her tongue out to Isaac. Who had definitely heard the conversation between them as he takes the turn out from the parking lot more forcefully than is needed and darts off in the spider web of streets, on the lookout for a blue Jeep.

The Alpha shakes his head fondly. Somehow the two Betas have started to fight for his approval and affection. Ever since he had made Boyd his second Isaac and Erica got into small fights and bickering with each other for the next in line for power in the pack.

Erica snickers lightly, blows a kiss to Boyd and runs off, blonde hair swirling and bouncing in the wind. Boyd meets Derek’s eyes, nods lightly and runs after her towards the Preserve. The Alpha sighs lightly and shifts his eyes to see clearly. Taking a deep breath of the early evening air he is off into the shadows of the city himself, heeding for the tree line.

-*-*-

The Camaro winds through the streets of Beacon Hill’s going through the roads Stiles would have taken to get to the loft. It’s silent in the car for the first couple of minutes. Only the light hum of an engine and shallow breaths filling the space, before Liam clears his throat slightly and breaks it.

“Why are we looking for him while driving? Shouldn’t we all go look in the woods? I mean, it is always where things go down, right?” He looked from Isaac to Allison. The werewolf driving just let a small growl rumble in his chest while Allison smiled at him faintly.

“How do you know where to go? There are like five different paths he could have taken from school to Derek’s loft.” Liam asks again, his elbows resting on both front seats, when he looks at Isaac. He was a werewolf as well, he should understand his confusion better.

“Stiles isn’t that hard to track, you know.” Isaac takes a smooth turn that shouldn’t quite be as possible at the speed they are going, before meeting Liam’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “Granted, it’s sometimes like watching a five way tennis match with the commentary included, but his habits are simple. You just have to know what’s important to him. ‘Coz he never strays from what’s important.” Allison looked over to Isaac and they shared a small knowing smile before the Huntress turned to Liam.

“This is as much hunting and tracking as is with your nose in the air and running through the woods.” She smiled at the younger boy. “Know your opponent, so to speak.” There was a small silent pause before she spoke again.

“We are more likely to find Stiles than the ones running in the Preserve, because, if he left school, it means he took his car to get to Derek’s. Meaning, he will be driving on roads, not through the trees.” She speaks while her eyes slide over the streets that pass them by. “Granted, most things happen in the woods and if he is missing it will probably turn out he really is in the Preserve. But right now we need to know what happened and where.”

“Derek put you with us for a reason. You are new and though you know how to track on foot and swing your claws at the enemy, you need to learn how to think before doing the attacking.” Isaac smiles a sharp smile that reflects in the rearview mirror and slows down a little as they pass a drive in.

The younger wolf looks out the window and a thought suddenly strikes him. “Stiles would come here.”

The two older pack mates nod in unison.

“He usually takes the shortest route to the loft. For one, less gas used, for the other, he can get on Derek’s nerves faster like that.” Isaac huffs a laugh. “He got held back by Harris, so he would be hungry. And we all know what he eats.” The werewolf rolls his eyes.

“This one is the closest place between the rout from school to loft where he could have stopped.” Allison picks up the explaining while Isaac rolls down the window and takes a deep breath, before pressing on the gas again to leave the fast-food restaurant behind them. There was no scent of Stiles.

Not long and they were on the road stretching alongside the Preserve scanning the surroundings.

“This isn’t really the fastest way to the loft.” Liam muttered under his breath.

“No. Not really.” Allison agreed.

“But if Stiles would have been followed, he did choose the road that has as few people, as possible, but still would get him to the pack.” Isaac nodded to the side of the road. A couple yards in front of them through the trees they could see a big, blue shadow.

The Camaro screeched to a halt where the worn CJ-5 blue jeep had slid off the road, leaving tire tracks in its wake. The three teens carefully exited the car and both werewolves had their noses in air to scent the scene. Nothing. The lack of smell, of anything suspicious made the two boys anxious.

“It… It smells like there isn’t anything wrong.”

“It doesn’t even smell like Stile’s Jeep is there.” Isaac adds, his claws out and he positioned himself before the other two, still slightly to the side, as to leave a clear view for Allison. The two had had some practice with each other. They had figured out how to tackle a situation together so both wound benefit.

Actually this practice plan had been made by Stiles and pushed onto the grumpy Alpha of the pack, as he took it onto himself to train the others. He had figured out how they would benefit by Allison’s ranged hunter skills and the brawl and snapping teeth of the werewolves. Isaac had been ideal for it. Tall, fast and with astoundingly good perception ability of his surroundings and the enemy, which meant he could partner up with Allison without worrying about getting shot in the back, while getting to any threat in time that would try to go for her.

Isaac slowly stepped closer to the car, taking in the angle it had turned, nearly missing a tree before it stopped. The driver’s door open and slightly swaying in the wind.
As if stepping over a barrier with the next step the full blast of scents hit the curly haired werewolf like a punch to the face. Oil, metal, sweat, blood, anxiety, anger, fear and something… something he didn’t know the name of, but his wolf whined at him that it wasn’t good.

“The car is empty.” Isaac said as he stepped closer to the Jeep, but not touching anything. “The smell is fading fast, but shouldn’t have happened more than an hour ago, so after school.”

“What could have done that?” Allison asked, as her eyes fell of the passenger side’s rear tire. It was split in half and three big gaping scratches, like scars, stretched alongside the side. Stretching from the door till it slid off the car itself.

“Don’t know, but we should let the others know.” Isaac reached for his phone when a rustle of leaves made him still and lift his eyes to face the forest. After a moment the blonde locks of Erica appeared through the growth of bushes and the she-wolf came to a stop in the light of the Jeeps headlights.

Her eyes went over the car as if she had seen it for the first time before zeroing in on Isaac’s.

“There was no smell of it.” She states slightly angry, the bridge of her nose scrunching up lightly before adding. “How long have you been here?”

“About a minute, or two.” Isaac growls back before looking in the car on the passenger’s seat, where an angry vibrating phone is humming away. His wolf is on edge as is Erica’s, Isaac can tell. That unknown smell makes their skin crawl and the mere thought that Stiles, one of their pack, is somewhere with this thing just doesn’t sit right in his stomach.

“We should tell the others.” Allison’s voice goes over the group, slightly startling the wolves, who haven’t even noticed themselves that they had all three started to growl at nothing, eyes shining beta gold.

“Right. I will tell Derek and Boyd.” Erica picks her phone from her jackets packet. Punching in speed-dial she lifts it to her ear. “You should pick up Stiles’ phone. I bet its Scott, freaking out.”

Isaac leans into the open space of the driver’s seat and picks up the phone without touching anything. Answering the call when Erica starts briefing Derek in on what they have found. Allison takes a photo of the side of the Jeep that is sliced open and sends it to Lydia, while Liam stands by the Camaro and looks for any possible passerby’s that could spot them.

-*-*-

Derek runs through the calm woods, the light of a gibbous moon still low in the sky, throws shadows through the trees. The calm and silence slightly lulls him into the mindset of peace. He is almost successful in talking his wolf into calming down, the dread flooding his body slowly draining. And yet it felt like calm before a storm. It was too quiet. He heard no animals skirting through the forest. No rustling of leaves, only the occasional breeze tangling in the late autumn colored trees.

He knew that Erica had taken the side closest to the road to his left, while Boyd was to his right, in the deeper part of the woods. Leaving him the approximately measured middle ground. They were going in a grid like pattern, raking through the woods and trying to pick out any new smell that could lead them closer to their goal – finding Stiles.

They had run through the Preserve for less than half an hour and Derek hadn’t even seen a skittish squirrel run up a tree. Something was wrong. Not only with Stiles missing, but with the woods as well.

The vibration of his phone startled him out of his suspicious assessing of the silent surroundings and he answered it at second ring.

“Erica.”Derek didn’t ask questions. He knew he would get all the answers anyway.

“Derek, we found Stiles Jeep. It was about 20 minutes from the loft on the side of the Preserve. It’s empty and his phone was inside.” Erica’s voice speaks through the speaker of Derek’s phone.

“Good. Stay there and inform the others. I’m on my way.” He is about to end the call when Erica speaks again.

“There is...” And the pause she makes gets his heart pumping blood so hard it is the only sound he hears for a moment till it all just goes silent, when the next words echo in the quiet woods around him.

“There is blood.”

Chapter Text

It was Friday. It was supposed to be a pack night at Derek’s. Movies, food and chilling till they were so relaxed they just slept there, not willing to move or go home. They had gone a long way to be in this mindset and comfortable around each and every one of the packs members, that Scott knew if one of them decided to drape himself over the rest while they slept on the pulled out couch before the TV, there would be nothing more than a slight grumble or minor adjustments to their own position. So every elbow and knee was protected and not lodged in someone’s face or guts.

A couple of months prior such action would cost a limb, that is if they actually stayed long enough to fall asleep, or even felt comfortable with each other to make a pile of sleeping bodies. There had been lot of growling and snarling and mistrust. Well, until Lydia and Stiles got fed up with it and declared that they have to pull their shit together or feel their wrath(Lydia’s terrifying glares and Stiles’ creative punishments). Yet threatening everyone with hard consequences, they offered a solution to their tense situation as well. Pack Nights.

There was a system on who choose what which week. Letting the pack discover differences and preferences they had in common with one or the other pack member. Just last month they had all walked into the loft after a fight. Worked out who goes shower when and dropped like flies on the sofa. Movie playing in the background, light munching on popcorn and reheated pizza slices. Bodies pressed together for warmth and comfort for the ones who healed.

It had been the first night they had slept all night at Derek’s, in one place and without complains. After that, it had become a second nature to gather at the older Alpha’s home every Friday.

-*-*-

Scott pulled up to Kira’s house and let the Kitsune hope down from his bike, following her with his eyes as she run up the porch steps and disappeared behind the front door.

He and Kira were the ones responsible for food while Isaac and Jackson had to pick a movie. The young Alpha was a little giddy to know what kind those two would agree on. Isaac wasn’t above a rom-com where Jackson would kill anyone who even suggested something similar to Notebook. So probably some action movie or maybe horror? To be honest, Scott didn’t really care. He was just glad the pack finally acted as one. And if a movie night was all it took for the rowdy bunch to calm down, heck, he did even watch all the Star Wars movies in one go. Which reminds him…

Scott fished his phone out from his pocket and hit up a quick message to Stiles.

From Scott:

-Hang in there, dude. Call when you are let on parole.

Hitting send Scott put the helmet down, secured his bike in the driveway and followed Kira inside her house.

-*-*-

Scott and Kira finish preparing the sushi plate, which has almost every possible variation of a kind on it, and the tortilla wraps, with every meat they could think of, before putting them in the fridge to cool before they take them to the loft. Scott knows that in the pack not everyone is willing to use chopsticks or likes fish as a movie snack, therefore the mix of cuisines. At least they don’t clash too much. Roll of tortilla or sushi doesn’t matter, finger food is finger food, right?

Scott puts the last of the boxes of food in the fridge while Kira washes her hands and his eyes go over her head to the clock on the wall. It is well past six and the young Alpha sighs. They have about a half an hour free time till they should get ready for heading out.

The Kitsune smiles up at him while drying her hands in the fluffy white towel hanging from one of the counters looping drawer handles. Scott answers her smile with his own, slightly dopey, puppy-dog-in-love one(as Stiles has christened it). Slowly moving towards his girlfriend and looping his arms loosely around her waist and burying his nose in her neck. Scent marking her, snuggling and breathing against her throat, lazily mouthing at the soft skin now and then, feeling relaxed and happy. Fully content on just staying like this till someone came and pried them apart.

It had been a while since they could have let the world around them pass by without constantly looking over their shoulder. Not just because they had their parents approval now, but also the school had let off on the tests and mostly the supernatural gloom had settled some and gave the pack a small breather this past weeks.

The moment of blissful affection is interrupted with a cheerful beeping coming from Kita’s bag. She meets Scott’s eyes sheepishly, cheeks slightly pink and ducks out from the embrace, digging through her bag and silencing her phone with a small sigh.

“It’s time.” She said with a small apologetic smile, her eyes drifting up to the clock on the kitchens wall. The clock had silently ticked away the time and it was almost seven. With a light grunt Scott turns and goes for the fridge, silently cursing the movie night.

Then his hand grabs the first of three fully packed boxes of food, his mind presents him with an idea. There is enough food to keep a somewhat hungry pack of teenage wolves from starving but he had forgotten the drinks. He fishes his phone out of his jeans packet and slightly scoffs that there had been no answer from Stiles to his message earlier. Throwing one last look at the clock on the kitchen wall, Scott sighs and dials his best friend’s number. There is no way Mr. Harris would keep Stiles till seven. He might not like him, but even Scott knew the teacher had better things to do than babysit a hyperactive sarcastic smartass on Friday evening. The dial tone drags on and on till it ends in a screeching end of ‘you-should-have-known- they-will-not-answer-after-the-fourth-tone-moron’ sound, showing that the call went unheard. Scott cleared his ear slightly, thinking that the phone company really should tone down that sound.

Even for human ears it is painful. After a bit of thought he dialed Derek’s number. Maybe Stiles was already at the loft and didn’t hear his phone. Even so, Scott was sure he could convince his friend on a trip to the nearest store for drinks, taking in consideration that Stiles practically lived on soda and popcorn throughout the movies.

-*-*-

Food was again safely stored in the fridge when Scott and Kira left the Yukimura house and got on Scott’s bike to head for the school. The ride had been quick and silent. Kira could feel the tension in Scott’s body throughout the ride and as they arrived in the empty parking lot she squeezed his hand in assuring manner. The young Alpha met her gaze and nodded lightly in thanks.

Stiles’ jeep was nowhere to be seen, but that didn’t mean there couldn’t be some clues on where he had been gone to, so the two of them went for the dimly lit building. School at night had a slight nostalgic and weirdly still eerie feel to it as the pair wandered down the empty hallways.

The Kitsune took her phone and dialed Stiles’ number. The building reminded silent with just the soft footfall of Scott and Kita echoing from the walls and a light buzzing tone from the ever ringing phone in the girl’s hand. Scott looked at her and after a silent nod to Kira they went further into the shadowy hall.

The chemistry classroom was empty, dark and silent. Harris had to have let Stiles leave about the usual time, locked up and left. There were no unusual smells, only the boredom, hatred and annoyance still lingering in the air. It didn’t seem like whatever happen to Stiles ambushed him in the building.

“Stiles?!” Kira asked with a hopeful tone in her voice, as the dial tone abruptly ended and the call was accepted. She had put it on speaker so Scott would hear the dialing tone as well. It seemed to calm the young Alpha.

“No. Sorry. It’s Isaac. We found Stiles’ Jeep and the phone was inside.” The boys voice travels back through the speaker, filling the somewhat eerie silence that clings to the empty school. Scott can make out Erica speaking to someone in the background, probably Derek, when her last words filter through the line. There is blood. Scott has the phone out of Kira’s hand in a blink of an eye and the Kitsune doesn’t seem to mind leaving her phone to the clutches of a half wolfed out Alpha. Even if she had protested, Scott wasn’t sure he was in the right mind set to persuade someone without growling and lots of teeth.

“Isaac!” The alpha voice clearly bleeding into Scott’s own. “What blood? How much? Is it bad? Is it Stiles’?”

There is a low whimper at the other end, Isaac’s wolf submitting to his Alpha, before Isaac finds his voice and speaks again.

“It’s not much. From a shallow cut at worst, on the driver seat and floor, but it is Stiles’.”

Scott takes a deep breath and heaves a sigh. Stiles had bled more than that on couple of occasions before and been fine later, so this shouldn’t be anything fatal. Good. That was good. Positive thinking.

“Can you trace it?” Scott asks.

“No.” Isaac’s voice sounds apologetic and slightly angry at himself for being forced to give such answer.

“There is...” The young Beta starts before sighing and trying again. “Around the car is some kind of force field? Like a walk-through dome of glass had been put on Stiles’ Jeep. It’s… I couldn’t smell it. Neither could Liam or Erica. About ten feet from the car it’s like the other senses are turned off. If it weren’t for seeing the actual car here, I did say it isn’t here. And no scent goes past the radius. But there is a new smell on the car itself.”

Scott knows from the way Isaac says the last sentence the smell makes his heckles rise. Something bad has Stiles in their clutches. There go the laid back weeks of peace. If Stiles would be here, and not actually the victim in this scenario, Scott knows he did curse the Universe up and down for their bad luck and a ruined Friday movie night. The teen almost smiles at the thought before his mind redirects again to matters at hand.

“Contact the others. Let’s meet at the cars. We are on our way there.” With that Scott ended the call and giving Kira back her phone the two left the school.

 -*-*-

One after the other the searching pack members arrive at the two cars by the side of the road stretching alongside the Preserve. Scott and Kira are the last to arrive. As the pair jumps down from the bike their attention is drawn to the blue jeep.

Isaac had been right. If not for seeing the vehicle nothing else seems to show it’s there. Kira makes her way towards Allison who is currently standing at the Jeep’s rear, talking into her phone, cluing in Lydia on the happenings, while Scott heeds to where Derek is looking over the Jeep with the deepest scowl on his face that Scott had seen. And that’s something.

“Do we know what did it?” Scott’s walk wavers when he steps past the proximate 10 feet radius of Stiles’ car and all the scents hit him at once. The usual scents lingering in Stiles’ car mixed with fear, anger, blood and something unknown that makes his wolf growl in uncontrollable need of getting rid of whatever left it there.

“Derek said it smells like a… eh, Wraith.” Isaac answers for his Alpha, as Derek seems to barely control the urge to wolf out just being in the proximity of the car. And if Scott is honest with himself he has to fight that pull too.

“A what now?” The young Alpha asks.

“A Wraith is a vengeful spirit.” Lydia’s voice echoes through Allison’s phone.

“A ghost kidnapped Stiles? Why?” “It’s not just a ghost, Scott.” Derek’s gruff voice makes everyone turn to look at the older Alpha. He sighs and slides one hand over his face, messing up his futures before speaking again.

“Simple ghosts are a soul infested with lingering bad energy. Like mass grave sites. Murder scenes and such. The accumulated bad energy leeches itself onto a more, I guess, sensitive soul, therefore forcing it to remain in this plain, without actually disappearing. Mostly though they are harmless and can’t leave the place they are haunting.” Derek grits his teeth when the next sentence leaves his lips. “Wraiths are dark energy manifested. They are not lost souls of some poor person dying in a bad place. No. They are summoned. Usually by a powerful witch or wizard and used as weapons. There is little I know of them, but the things I do doesn’t inspire hopeful feelings in me.”

The Alpha werewolf sighs before continuing, his feet starting to pace around the little clearing the pack has gathered in, as the wolf inside him growls in frustration.

“They have no consciousness, no feelings, nothing. They can switch their shape to their masters liking, are almost indestructible and incredibly hard to beat. I have not met or fought them, but from what I have heard, I never even wanted to encounter one myself.”

There is an eerie silence surrounding the group as they take in Derek’s words.

“So… What exactly does that mean?” Erica is first to break the heavy silence, her eyes fixed on her Alpha’s face. “Are you saying that Batman is basically doomed?”

“No.” Surprisingly (or not really) Lydia’s voice, slightly cracked coming from the phone’s speaker answers the Beta. “It means that we get a powerful bad guy pulling the strings of a more powerful puppet. Who kidnapped one of our pack, for reasons yet not known. And WE are preparing for WAR.”

The two Alphas shared a look and both couldn’t agree more with the Banshee’s words.

Chapter Text

Liam was left behind at the cars, waiting for the tow truck Erica had called from the mechanics shop she worked part time at. The blonde apparently had a knack for vehicles and some kind of divine understanding on how they worked, if the boss of the chop shop was believed to. She had offered to stay back herself and wait for Stiles’ Jeep to be moved back to Derek’s place, but the younger werewolf volunteered for the task. Making a point in him being the youngest and relatively recently turned, his tracking stood nowhere near Erica’s abilities. And from the looks of it, Stiles life could be in danger if they didn’t find him fast. Scott made sure one last time that Liam was okay with this before joining the pack into the ever growing dark forest.

Derek had let his wolf free rein, as it had been on the edge all evening and now that there actually was a hunt, just short of clawing its way out from his chest. Shifting in their beta forms the wolves and hunter exchanged one last look before splitting up and rushing into the forest.

The Preserve still was unusually quiet and animal free, but now Derek knew why. He couldn’t fault the little critters and even the bigger game that habituated the woods for hiding. He wouldn’t want to be anywhere near a Wraith himself, if he had the choice. Right now he didn’t have one. He had to find the damned thing by all means.

A half an hour went by without even a scent or sound from another being in the steadily darkening forest when Derek saw a flash of light a couple miles to the east. It was like a lightning flash, but there were no clouds in the night sky, or the distinct smell of rain and ozone, that would indicate a storm coming. The Alpha werewolf tuned his senses in that direction, while he moved carefully, but quickly towards it. A second flash, this one brighter, came from the small clearing that Derek now noticed had been right on the edge of Hale territory and farthest northern point of the Preserve from the Town. After it there were rocks and caves and huge hills, that weren’t yet mountains, but were quite steep.

Small figure, not higher than two or three feet was standing in the middle of the dark, moosy grass. The shadows of the old pines circling it and making the moonlight shy away from its features. Derek lifted his head back and let out a long, loud howl, calling for his pack before going closer. A scent of energy, like an actual lightning had struck down flooded the area and a soft hum vibrated the air, but even that didn’t make the werewolf falter in his step, though the familiar heartbeat did.

-*-*-

Why him? Stiles would be so much better at taking care of a kid! A shudder of realization goes trough Derek’s back and he freezes for a moment. He doesn’t know why his treacherous mind tries to convince him that Stiles would be great at it, especially because Stiles himself is IT. And Stiles was an only child. Derek had grown up with siblings and cousins to take care of. Sometimes his brain didn’t make sense. More now that he had returned to Beacon Hills and met this mismatch of a pack, which he now called his own. What has his life turning into?

But there was no mistake in who is standing before him. The scent of warm rain, something minty and earthy, little spike of medicine’s bitter smell and something that was just Stiles, energy manifested. T-shit on the little, skinny kid’s shoulders, loose and baggy, making it look like a dress than anything else, all stripes and chaos of color, yet fitting. The moles dotting the pale skin like a constellation in the sky. The big doe eyes, a mix of warm sunlight and molten gold, hiding the spark underneath, looking around and taking in every little thing they can.

There is a cut on his forehead, on the left side. But Derek can see and smell that it is not deep and blood has stopped flowing from the wound a while ago. He had wiped his shirt over it, to get the drops from entering his eyes. Flakes of blood are crusted in the short hair by his ear and coloring one of his cheekbones.

The kid is shivering. Stiles is shivering. And there are glistening tears rising in his eyes. The whiff of fear, confusion and pain is mixed in with Stiles’ and Derek moves before he makes a conscious thought to do so. Only when the mini version of Stiles freezes in a spot, eyes wide, taking him in and Derek is merely a feet or two away from him, it occurs to him that kid Stiles may not recognize him and therefore be afraid of him. If anything the spike in heartbeat and the tiny hands clutching at the oversized t-shirt are great example of that.

An answering howl echoes through the woods and Derek lets out a small sigh. It’s Scott. Scott will know what to do. Know how to handle this version of Stiles. Because Scott was his Alpha, his best friend and Derek was pretty sure he could befriend any version of Stiles, no matter the size. While Derek couldn’t figure out the boy even in the best of days.

“M-Mister?” The soft fragile voice startled Derek out of his thoughts and he looked at the child before him. He was worrying his lower lip between his teeth and clenching and twisting both fists in his shirt, while the big slightly moist doe eyes looked up at him, determination shining in them.

“Who are you?” The kid Stiles asks and after a breath adds“Did you kittap- kipa- stole me? Dad said that’s a bad person. Are you a bad person? Dad puts bad persons in prison. He is a deputy. He will look angry at you and make you sit in a corner, if you are bad.” Stiles rumbled on with growing bravado in his soft voice. Derek smiled despite himself.

“Why do you think I’m a bad person?”

Stiles scrunched his eyes leveling him with a judging, yet oddly soft look.

“You are here in the forest with me. I don’t have my pajamas on, but it’s nighttime. I don’t know your name, so you are a stranger and… and… you look angry and have black clothes.” A big and proud grin flashes over Stiles’ face, clearly preening about his perceptive skills, before the kid frowns up at Derek again. “What’s your name?”

“Derek.”

Stiles’ eyes narrow even further. “You aren’t really smart for a children stealing person.” The voice of this small Stiles is so infuriating close to the smug tone teen Stiles uses to rile him up, that Derek feels his hackles rise.

“I didn’t kidnap you! Besides, I know your dad. And I’m here to look for you.” Derek almost added ‘you idiot’ at the end of the sentence before he caught himself. This is a little kid. He reminded himself. Not the sarcastic teen you enjoy to snark with.

Stiles shakes his head in a disbelieving manner.

“What?”

“You don’t have a badge, so you are not a deputy. You didn’t say the safe word, so daddy and mommy didn’t send you. So I was right. You are a bad person who kip-… stole me and brought me to a forest.”

Right when Stiles’ last accusing words leave his tiny cupid bow lips a rustle of the nearby bushes reveal the McCall-Hale pack. Stiles, though he said Derek is a bad guy, steps closer to him and one of the tiny hands wind their little gangly fingers into his jeans. The hummingbird heartbeat quickens and the grip tightens as more of the pack enter his field of vision. Derek feels oddly found of the gesture and confused by it. Thankfully before he can let himself examine the feeling, Scott speaks and pulls him out of his own mind.

“Derek!” The young Alpha than notices the small kid hanging from one of Derek’s pants legs and curses silently. “Stiles?” Scott breaths out. There is a variation of muffled gasps and swearwords as everyone else notice their pack mate’s appearance.

Tiny Stiles tilts his head slightly, carefully letting his eyes slide over every person who had arrived, still not relaxing his grip, nor answering Scott. The lack of response makes Scott lift his eyes back to Derek.

“I found him like this.” Derek says like that answers anything. But Scott lowers his gaze to look at kid Stiles again and apparently it had answered something to the other Alpha, as the teen slowly comes closer and drops to one knee before the miniature of his best friend.

“Hey.” Scott lets his signature bright smile split his face as his eyes slide over every inch of Stiles’ face.

“…Hi.” Stiles’ voice is wary and somehow sounds wrong when he uses it to talk with Scott.

“I’m Scott.” The young Alpha says, not fazed by the clear wariness, while Stiles does the judging eye narrowing that he had given Derek right before accusing him of being a bad ‘children stealing person’. Scott seems to recognize the look, or knows his friend mistrusts him as he makes an ‘oh’ sound, like he remembered something.

“Right, safe word.”

At Scott’s words Stiles relaxes his grip on Derek’s pants a little and looks slightly intrigued as the teen scoots closer and motions for Stiles to turn his ear to him. Stiles does. Cupping his hands around the small ear, Scott whispers.

“Batman’s real name is Bruce Wayne.”

There are a mix of reactions over the ‘safe words’ being used. Erica suppresses a snicker. Isaac lifts an amused eyebrow, Kira giggles softly, Boyd doesn’t move a muscle. Allison looks around at everyone, as she probably couldn't hear what Scott said, but worries her lower lip in concern. And Derek? Derek suppresses the urge of an eye roll. ‘Seriously? THAT is the safe word?’ His mind questions as a smile fights its way on his lips.

Stiles’ hand leaves Derek’s pants denim and he smiles brightly back at Scott.

“I’m Świętomierz. Did daddy send you?” Stiles offers the hand he was clutching at Derek’s leg for Scott to shake. Scott doesn’t even flinch from the letter jumble that just rolled out from Stiles’ mouth and shakes the tiny hand.

“What the hell did he just say?” Erica looks at Boyd to Isaac and then Derek, before finally back to the two shaking hands. Kira looks like she is trying to pronounce the word and even to her it seems like a tongue twist.

“It sounded like a sneeze.” Isaac murmurs and Derek is just wondering how the hell could kid Stiles say that monstrosity of a name and not say ‘kidnapping’ right.

“Oh…uh... That is a mouthful. Say is it okay if we call you Stiles? It sounds cool, don’t you think?” Scott beams his best smile at the kid and Stiles, no matter the size or age, can’t resist it and nods his approval.

“Cool!” Scott says before his eyes look over the kid version of his best friend again. “Say, Stiles. How old are you? Your dad only told us that his son went missing. He didn’t tell us your age.”

Derek doesn’t know if it was the display of Scott knowing the safe word, or his natural charm, or some soul deep best friend connection, but Stiles doesn’t even question anything Scott asks and answers him with trust radiating from the small body in waves. He looks at his small fingers counting them slowly, before lifting a hand and showing four fingers.

“Four, huh?” Scott says quietly before adding. “You are a big boy.”

Stiles smiles at him and it is one of the radiant, lighting-up-the-room ones he reserves for special occasions as teenager. Now in the overly big t-shirt and with miniature everything the smile is devastatingly cute and Derek thinks he heard either Allison or Kira(or possibly both) make an ‘aww’ sound at it. At the sound though Stiles’ eyes lift to look over the gathered group and back to Scott again.

“Did you all look for me?” Stiles asks and Scott nods his head.

“Him too?” Stiles’ small bony finger points at Derek and the Alpha huffs an annoyed breath.

“Eh, yeah.” Scott tries not to snicker when Stiles turns his judging eyes to asses Derek anew.

“So, you are not a children stealing bad guy?” Derek hears his pack break into various sounds of chocked back laughter when he meets Stiles’ eyes and calmly answers. “No.”

Stiles still looked like he didn’t believe him fully, before turning back to face Scott.

“Where are mommy and daddy?”

-*-*-

The silence that stretches after that one question is somehow deafening. The Betas look at their Alphas, while the two Alphas look at each other, searching for an answer. Convincing Stiles they were the good guys and could be trusted had been the easy part. Now came the tricky part. How do you tell a four year old kid that his mom had died approximately eight years ago and his dad doesn’t even know he is out in the woods in the middle of the night and apparently de-aged dozen years or so? Answer. You don’t. At least if you still want the kid to trust you.

Finally, after a long silent conversation with Scott, where the teen looks panicking-ly at him, Derek sighs and steps up to Stiles. He picks the small kid up into his arms only by the scruff of his shirt and Stiles makes an adora-… undignified yelp, when his little body gets set against Derek’s broad chest, while the Alpha starts walking in the direction of the road.

“Isaac. Keys.” He extends his free hand, which he isn’t using to plaster a squirming four year old to himself, and Isaac drops the Camaro keys in the open palm. Everyone around them are still frozen in place, not sure what to do.

“I’m bringing him to Deaton. He got hurt and we have to know what happened.” That jumpstarts everyone else and Allison looks thought her jackets pockets for her phone.

“I will call my dad. Maybe he will know who might have done this and how to.. eh catch it.” She tells everyone while going through her contacts. Derek nods in agreement sharply to the Huntress and Isaac volunteers to go with her to the Argent house.

“I’m taking my bike.” Scott’s tells Derek, thumb jabbed over his shoulder, silently communicating that they will meet at the vets and nods for Kira to follow him, leaving the two remaining Betas to drive with Derek in the car.

-*-*-

They break from the woods at the clearing by the side of the road where Derek’s black Camaro now stands alone, only trace that Stiles’ jeep had been there, a swirl of tire tracks in the grass. Derek lets a small sigh through his clenched teeth. The miniature version of Stiles on the walk here had kicked him twenty eight times, kneed him in the chest nineteen times and bit him at least seven, along with squirming and loud protests in his sensitive ear. He peals the scrawny tiny human from his chest and hands him off to Erica like a naughty puppy by the scruff of his neck, so he can unlock the car.

“Calm down, little Batman. The Grumpy-gills will not hurt you. Neither will we.” The boy suddenly goes rigid as the chocolate brown and honey gold eyes meet. Erica smiles a slightly too sharp smile, but Stiles doesn’t seem to mind. His face is full with awe and all shiny eyes that are directed at the blonde and Erica smiles as if she knows perfectly well what she did to deserve it. She smirks up at Derek, as if to say ‘See? I can handle even tiny Stiles better than you.’ The Alpha huffs a breath and resists an eye roll before opening the passenger door and letting the seat down.

“Get in.” Derek says in a low voice, motioning for Erica to take the back, with Stiles in hand. The she-wolf narrows her eyes at her Alpha, because, seriously, the backseat is a seat only in name. Derek knows that there is no space for legs, not really. But he loves the car, it was Laura’s and well, Erica will live. After one more intense glare and a rised eyebrow from Derek Erica finally got in and settles Stiles comfortably besides her. Derek left Boyd with handling his seat and went for the driver’s door.

Finally settled in and buckled up (because werewolf or not, safety) Derek set the car in reverse, before speeding off along the road and drove towards Deaton’s clinic.

-*-*-

“I’m not a doggie.” Stiles’ voice breaks the silence that had consumed the car, as it stops in the clinic’s parking lot. Three pairs of eyes settle on the kid. The small version of Stiles squirms slightly from the attention where he is now sitting halfway draped over Erica’s lap, before speaking again.

“It’s a doggie hospital. I’m not a doggie.” A tiny finger is pointing outside at the clinic’s front door, where over it is a big green sign, saying ‘Animal Clinic’ and a picture of a paw. Derek scowls at the sign through the windshield of the car, while Boyd sits silently, typical Boyd, but seems to fight a smile while Erica is all out laughing. Stiles looks over them all and finally settles his eyes on the girl. Somehow in the small amount of time they had spent to drive to the clinic, Erica and Stiles had bonded and the tiny human had deemed her worthy of his trust. Derek strongly suspects it has to do with Erica calling him Batman and introducing herself as Catwoman. Besides the fact she had actually paid attention to and mostly indulged the small rumble of words and questions spilling from a kid Stiles mouth. The Alpha was sure that all the ‘why’, ‘what’ and ‘how come’ a human mind could possibly come up with had spilled from Stiles in those couple of minutes it took them to get here.

“Why are you laughing?” Stiles asks, he is smiling himself, because the jostle of Erica’s laugh is shaking him too.

“Because you are not a doggy, but we are.” Erica smiles at the little kid her sharpest smile that shows no fangs yet, but is damn close. Derek growls low in his chest and turns to his Beta.

“What?” Erica rises an eyebrow in question at her Alpha.

“You can’t tell him that.” Derek’s voice is low and soft, clearly quieter than a human could hear. The Beta huffs a sigh before responding equally silent.

“Why the hell not?”

“He is a kid. He doesn’t remember anything. It will scare him.” Is Derek’s rumbling answer and Erica burst out in laughter again. Stiles attentive eyes go from Erica to Derek, although he can’t hear what they said he takes everything in like nothing else in the world matters more. Then Erica looks down and meets his eyes.

“Wanna know something cool?” Derek growls, all out growls so strongly the car actually vibrates with it. But Stiles is all ears on the blonde girl next to him, tense with anticipation and bobbing his head frantically to even notice.

“We are werewolves.” The blonde lets her eyes shift and pops her claws on one hand. Stiles is staring at her hand, body frozen and eyes wide, his hearth speeding up.

“What the hell, Erica?!” Derek feels his vision bleed red, he had partly shifted, but he couldn’t help it. She will scare Stiles for life. The Beta lowers her eyes in submission, but the loud growl had picked the kids attention and now the huge honey brown eyes are on the Alpha and Derek reigns in his shift, but he is sure he hadn’t succeeded before the damage was done. Judging from the little soft gasp Stiles makes and mouth half fallen open.

“You are a woofie?” Stiles’ eyes are still fixed at Derek’s now human green ones as the question leaves his lips. The tiny voice is somehow loud in the silent car.

“Yes.” Came a rumbling answer from neither Erica nor Derek, but from Boyd, who flashes his eyes at the kid when Stiles looks over to him. Momentarily Derek wonders about his life choices. What did he think to turn teens? Especially ones that apparently didn’t grasp the simple concept that admitting they are all monsters to a four year old might scare said four year old to death. And they needed Stiles alive and trusting them, not covering in fear.

“Awesome!” comes a breathy voice and everyone’s eyes fix on the tiny kid beaming like a spotlight with a wide grin on his lips and eyes dancing from one face to other.

Derek sighs. He shouldn’t have worried. Stiles is weird, be it a kid or seventeen, he just is, simply put, Stiles.

The roar of Scott’s bike jostles everyone and all three werewolves and the kid spill out Derek’s Camaro to meet the younger Alpha and Kitsune. Stiles is off, running to Scott the moment his feet hit the ground and Derek uses the moment to talk to Erica.

“That was a reckless thing to do.” He tells his Beta. “Stiles could have reacted with fear and we had lost all his trust in one go. We need him to tell us what happened to reverse it.”

“I knew he wouldn’t be afraid.” Erica looks at him sideways. “Besides, Stiles was the one to tell Scott what he was, although Scott had been the one bitten.” She mumbles something that sounded suspiciously like ‘stupid alphas’ before shrugging and walking to the clinic’s door where Boyd and Kira stood and watched over Stiles demanding Scott to show his ‘woofieness’.

Derek sighed yet again, he has noticed he is doing that a lot lately, but Erica had been right. He still remembers the day they had met. Just moments before he had let himself show to the two teens, roaming around alone in the Preserve, he had heard Stiles tell Scott about Lycanthropy. Granted, he had made a joke of it at the time, but even without the facts and knowledge, and google research, he had hit the nail on the head. Derek remembered how at first he had been taken aback that a human, mere kid, with barely any knowledge of the world around him had been so accurate. He had bristled. Had pushed them away for their safety and his own, because he somehow knew deep inside him that the boy was trouble. A genius in disguise - covered by layers and layers of clothing, clumsy feet, wide hand gestures and mind that worked faster than the mouth that was letting words spill a mile a minute.