Chapter Text
Stiles does not handle the next week well. At all.
Derek tells him what he knows about the Alpha Pack, that they're decidedly not nice, that Deucalion is their leader and Kali and Ennis have been with him a while, but the twins are new. He tells them that he doesn't know the details, but Deucalion, Kali, and Ennis were in Beacon Hills a decade ago with their respective packs and something happened that led them to where they are today.
Naturally, Stiles is half out of his mind. The frantic energy inside him is kicking up a storm in his brain strong enough to capsize his sanity, stirring up all of the thoughts that have nowhere to go, beating them uselessly against the inside of his skull. There's so much he could be doing. He wants to heal himself; he wants to find and summon Cor; he wants to find and rescue Erica and Boyd; he wants to learn more about the Alpha Pack; he wants to destroy the Alpha Pack; he wants to work things out with Scott; he wants to research; he wants to have sex with Derek; he wants—He just wants to get out of this damn bed.
But, alas, Derek is serving as his own personal watchdog. Or rather he's the Sheriff's watchdog, keeping vigil over Stiles at his father's behest. Stiles isn't sure which one of them to blame more for his confinement.
Derek ratted them out to Stiles' father about their little trip to the warehouse and the confrontation with the Alphas. Duly, Stiles has been on house arrest ever since and, much to his annoyance, Derek has been enforcing it.
Chris Argent swings by to discuss with Derek and Stiles their stance on the Alpha Pack which Derek and Chris agree is sit back and do nothing until it's too late. Stiles crosses his arms and calls Chris a traitor. Chris gives him a well-rehearsed unimpressed look and then drops off some wolf’s bane bullets for the Sheriff's Glock on his way out.
Even Lydia brings no reprieve for him when she drops by every afternoon to deliver Stiles' assignments so he can stay caught up on his schoolwork. She and Derek are still uncomfortable around each other. Stiles gets it, he does. Lydia is still cautious of Derek due to Derek's willingness to kill her when they suspected she was the kanima, not to mention what his uncle did to her, and Derek is still wary of Lydia because of the wolf’s bane to the face that one time and her subsequent role in Peter's resurrection. Needless to say, Lydia offers him no solace; she merely sweeps in and out as quickly as possible. He can't even convince her to smuggle in some curly fries for him.
Stiles is already about to boil over in spite of his constant state of exhaustion, so when Derek comes in to trade shifts with the Sheriff one night and reveals that he talked to Scott about why he wasn't at Stiles' birthday party (after Stiles refused to tell him later out of pettiness), Stiles chunks a book at him.
Derek dodges it easily, which just makes Stiles all the more furious.
"Stiles," Derek says with forced calm. "Stop it. You're acting like a—"
"A child?" Stiles demands viciously. "Gee, Derek. Maybe that's because that's how I'm being treated! I'm not even allowed to open the window!"
Derek is rapidly losing his calm as Stiles continues to rant. "Where exactly do you get off going to talk to my best friend about something that had nothing to do with you, huh?"
"It had everything to do with me!" Derek shouts back. "It was about me! Stiles, why didn't you tell me what he said? You know that's not true, right?"
"Of course I know it's not true," Stiles hisses. "I didn't tell you about it, because it doesn't matter! I don't believe that for a second, Derek!"
"Good! Because it's complete bullshit!"
"I know that! Tell Scott that!"
"I did!"
Stiles reels back, incredulous. "You, what?"
"Look, we had a talk, okay?" Derek leans away from Stiles and runs a hand over his face, the frustration and aggravation clear in the lines etched into his skin. "We worked it out. He doesn't think that anymore."
"What the hell does that mean?" Stiles spits. "You just had a little chat and suddenly everything is all hunky-dory and he trusts you and now you're going to go skip through the woods together holding hands?"
Derek glares thinly at Stiles. "No," he grits out. "It doesn't mean we "get along" or that we trust each other now. It just means we understand each other a little better."
"Oh, yeah? And how the hell did you manage that exactly? Because my impression was that Scott stuck his fingers in his ears and sang every time you tried to talk to him."
"I…" Derek takes a steeling breath and says, "I appealed to his wolf."
"What?" Stiles asks, uncomprehending.
Derek sighs like this is the hardest conversation he's ever had. It probably is. At least top five. "Whether he likes it or not, Scott has a wolf's instincts as a werewolf. So...So he...we...fall in love more easily than humans do."
Stiles blinks. "You do?" he boggles.
"Yes," Derek confirms, even though it pains him. "It's part of the wolf's desire to—to have a pack and have a mate and have a...a family…"
Kate and the fire flash through Stiles' mind and he knows that that's what Derek is thinking of, too. Knows how much more it must have hurt him to have a woman he wanted to bring into his family murder them instead.
"So, what did you tell Scott, then? About us?"
"I...I just described how he felt toward Allison at the beginning. When he was...falling…When he asked me how I knew that, I told him...I told him it's the same way I felt about you. He believed me then."
Stiles can't even manage half a sentence to say to that, although he feels compelled to roll his eyes. Of course when it's put in terms of Allison, Scott gets it. Of course. But Stiles can't even rail on that little detail for all the things that Derek just indirectly admitted swimming around his head. It's too much information to process and too many feelings to sort through all at once. So all he says is, "I'm sorry I threw a book at you."
Derek forgives him with a nod.
Stiles sighs heavily and drops his head into his hands. "This is driving me nuts, you know…"
"I know," Derek says softly and sets one of his big, warm hands on Stiles' shoulder.
"Sorry," Stiles whimpers. All of this is so unfair, but it isn't Derek's fault. Stiles shouldn't have taken it out on him, when all Derek has been doing is trying to protect Stiles and give him time to heal.
Derek draws him in, wrapping him up securely in his arms, and says, "It's okay." Because he knows first-hand that sometimes a person just can't control the backlash of what they're feeling. That sometimes other people happen to get hit by it.
Stiles sobs and lets all the pent-up anger and frustration and helplessness of the past week flow out in a deep emotional cleanse. Derek holds him through it, strokes his hair, then picks up the tossed book from the floor and puts it where it belongs.
Going back to school is a pretty abysmal affair. The cover story is that Stiles had snuck off to the woods to be alone with his secret boyfriend and like an idiot fell down a ditch and tore his arm all to hell on a rock and blacked out. A pathetically believable story.
The whispers and rumors and exaggerations all pale in significance when compared to Stiles' real problems anyway, so he ignores them with admirable conviction.
When he spots Scott digging in his locker first thing in the morning with Allison and Isaac beside him, Stiles steels his resolve and marches toward them. Isaac spots him first and is already dragging Allison away by the elbow; she protests until she sees what Isaac does, then dismisses their presence cheerily with a "We'll just leave you two alone."
Scott turns around, befuddled, to see what in the world they're running from. When he sees Stiles, he looks like he wants to run too. But he stands his ground. They both know this is a conversation they need to have.
"Derek told me he talked to you," is what Stiles opens with.
"Yeah?" Scott says, eyes squinting in a grimace. "He, uh, set me straight about it. About you two. So. I'm sorry I ever said that. I was totally wrong."
"You totally were," Stiles says gravely.
"I...I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions," Scott says. "I should have talked to you about it first. Again, sorry."
"Hmph." Stiles crosses his arms and stares Scott down for a few more seconds, just to make him sweat. Then he says, "I listened to your CD."
"Yeah?" Scott says, finally making eye contact with him, the faintest beginnings of hope sneaking into his expression.
"It was pretty fucking perfect," Stiles says, the hint of a smile creeping across his lips. It really was. The song list made Stiles take a step back and remember how his friendship with Scott had lasted through so much already. And how it wasn't going to be torn down by this.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Scott grins like the big, dopey puppy he is and Stiles can't help but grin back. They both look like they're going in for a hug, but Stiles pulls back to say:
"But seriously?" All laughter is gone from his voice. "Get your head out of your ass and just freaking talk to me next time. Okay? You were a super dick about this."
"I know. I was. I will," Scott says with a solemn nod punctuating each sentence.
"And you and Derek will be civil to each other from now on, okay?"
"Okay," Scott agrees.
"Okay," Stiles says, grinning and careening into a hug.
"Don't like not having you around, bro," Stiles says, muffled into Scott's shoulder.
"Me neither, bro," Scott replies, giving Stiles a tight squeeze.
Just like that the group is reunited. Lydia had never actually left technically, had simply chosen to stick by Stiles' side, for which he will be eternally grateful in a way he can never repay her. Allison had of course been trying to mend the rift between Scott and Stiles for a while now and Isaac couldn't care less either way. So with Stiles and Scott on good terms again two lunch groups become one and a discussion of the Alpha Pack immediately reigns over the conversation.
Stiles only participates with half an ear in the discussion. He's too distracted by how prominent the Cor-shaped hole in his life feels now that the Scott-shaped hole has been filled again. After the lunchtime suckfest that is their agreement upon a complete lack of a chance against the Alpha Pack, Stiles is downtrodden enough that all he can think is "if only Cor were here" which spins off into a thousand different variations of a messy end for the Alphas.
He spends the rest of the day walking around the school with a dark cloud hanging over his head. His unusual behavior is noticeable enough to draw Danny's attention.
"What's wrong, Stiles? You've seemed really down today. Are your injuries hurting you?"
"Ah, no, nothing like that," Stiles tells him; he has more than enough drugs and werewolves for pain relief. "I'm...suffering the loss of a pet. It ran away."
"I didn't know you had a pet."
"It was Derek's...I mean...it was ours."
"Oh, man. That's rough," Danny says sympathetically. "Hey, I know. Let's go bowling or something to cheer you up. You can bring Derek and I'll bring Ethan. We'll make it a double date."
"Ethan? I didn't know you were dating anyone," Stiles says curiously.
"Yeah. He's new. Transferred in while you were in the hospital. So. What do you say? Double date? Tomorrow? Seven?"
Stiles sighs. "Good luck getting Derek to bowl. But yeah, okay. Thanks, Danny," Stiles says sincerely, giving Danny a smile.
"Sure thing. No one should be so down. Besides it's been way too quiet around here without you being your usual obnoxiously loud self."
"Hardy har har, Mahelani. Hardy har."
Danny smiles to show he's joking and they part with a wave.
Derek is less than thrilled about the idea of a double date with Danny and his new beau. He is absolutely murderous about the idea of bowling. Stiles tells him that there is nothing wrong with him appearing less like a serial killer to the public at large and they've never been on a date and Derek can just suck it up and take him out for the evening. Derek wears all black and a scowl just to spite him he's sure.
The next night they find Danny just inside the entrance to Beacon Hills' only bowling alley, clearly waiting for them.
"Hey, Stiles," he says, cheeks dimpling sweetly as he smiles. He holds out a hand to Derek. "Derek. Nice to see you again. Or are you still going by Miguel?"
The storm clouds that form over Derek's face as he shakes the teen's hand are enough to make Danny's smile falter, even though the glare is directed at Stiles.
Stiles laughs nervously. "I think 'Derek' will be fine, Danny. So where's this Ethan of yours?" Stiles asks, steering the conversation toward less dangerous waters.
"He went to pay for a lane. Oh, there he is."
Stiles and Derek follow the teen's gaze and stop cold. Stiles' heart leaps into his throat at the sight of the person walking toward them, smug grin on his lips and cocky saunter in his walk. It's one of the twins of the Alpha Pack.
This can't be happening, Stiles thinks right before the Alpha walks up to Danny and kisses him on the jaw.