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Stiles wasn't - quite - panicked, but he was worried and out of simple options. He knew this wasn't right.
He looked at the number on his phone. One that had been there for almost forever. One he had not used in a very long time. Before he could think too hard, he dialed.
"Stiles?"
The voice was what Stiles had remembered. Low, careful, and -- most importantly -- calm.
"Derek... I'm sorry.... but I don't have anyone else I can call," Stiles apologized.
Stiles had to take a breath.
"What do you need?" Derek asked immediately. "Are you safe?"
"I'm safe," Stiles replied, holding onto the concern and frustration that ran through him. "At least for the moment. But... it's my dad. He's... he's not here, like he was supposed to be, and I don't know where he is!"
"What have you done so far?" Derek asked patiently.
"I've called and tracked his phone," Stiles admitted. "It's still plugged in, next to his bed. I had a magical trace on him but that's not responding to anything I can do." A breath. "I know he's alive but, well, nothing else."
"Where are you?" Derek asked.
"At the house," Stiles replied. "If someone has him, and I hate that I'm even thinking that way, then I was hoping they'd call the house. Or his phone. Or something."
"I'm out on patrol on the far side of town, and I need some time to get someone to cover my shift," Derek replied. "Can you hang on that long?"
"I called the department and they only know he took a couple of days off," Stiles said. "He knew I would be in town and he's on light duty, so they weren't surprised he wasn't in the office."
And hadn't that been the biggest surprise? Stiles had made the time to come back to Beacon Hills to visit with his dad, after almost ten years years away. Stiles had gone off to DC. First, it was to George Washington University for his undergraduate degree and, upon graduation, had immediately dropped into training at the FBI. Stiles had spent five years tracking bad guys, human and supernatural, for the Bureau.
John had come out to see Stiles a few times and they connected regularly on phone and video chat. So they had kept in touch in spite of their busy jobs.
But John had been hurt in a car accident -- a true accident, John had promised -- and Stiles knew it was time to come home and visit. John had nothing worse than a broken arm and bruises, but Stiles knew he had put off coming back to Beacon Hills for too long.
"Do you need me to stay on the phone?" Derek asked.
Stiles huffed. He was a gun-toting FBI agent, not a fourteen-year-old! But he appreciated the sentiment.
"No," Stiles replied finally. "I'm going to set up what I need to scry for him. But I don't want to be alone when I do that."
Derek laughed. "Finally. Someone has gotten you to be sensible."
Stiles had to grin. "Yeah... kind of a long story. But, well, I'm already calling for help."
"Then I'll be glad to hear that story," Derek replied. "Give me an hour."
"One hour," Stiles replied. "Thank you." The last was barely a whisper.
"See you soon," Derek said as he hung up.
Stiles went out to his car to get what he would need so he could scry for his dad. He had brought his full kit with him, since he was between assignments and didn't know where he might be sent after his time off.
Once he had the basics set up for the scrying, he settled back. He forced himself to meditate, since he needed to be calm for the attempt.
He heard the familiar sound of a police cruiser park in the driveway. Stiles shook himself to ready himself to meet Derek at the doorway.
John had kept Stiles more-or-less up to date on Derek's life. Stiles knew that Derek had earned a Bachelor's degree in Criminology before applying to the Beacon Hills Sheriff's Department. John had been grateful to have a 'wolf officially on the payroll.
So, while Stiles had not overtly asked questions about Derek, Stiles knew that Derek was a Deputy, played softball with the other Deputies, owned a small mechanic shop on the far side of town, donated -- anonymously -- to a number of the local charities and fund raisers. And ran the local Pack.
Scott had gone off to LA to attend Veterinary school and had fallen in love with the big city. Scott had come back to Beacon Hills on an irregular basis but those visits became infrequent when Scott got a full-time job in LA. When John had finally gotten Derek to admit what it meant to have an Alpha at a distance, John had taken it upon himself to go to LA and talk to Scott.
John never told Stiles much about that discussion but, in the end, Scott had -- more than likely reluctantly -- granted Derek formal oversight over Beacon Hills. Even as a beta, that formal permission from an Alpha gave Derek the ability to lead the local Pack and protect the region.
Seeing Derek for the first time in almost ten years, Stiles realized that Derek had settled into himself. He looked comfortable in the Deputy uniform -- self assured and competent. The used-to-be scruff was currently a well-groomed beard and the haunted look in Derek's eyes was gone.
"Derek! Thanks for coming!" Stiles said. He didn't think twice about leaning in and scenting Derek. Stiles suspected Derek was faintly startled by the familiarity but he didn't hesitate to scent Stiles back.
Oh! That beard was as soft as it looked. Stiles resisted petting it, he hadn't earned that much familiarity.
"Not a problem," Derek replied. "What do you know?"
"Dad was supposed to be here," Stiles waved a hand at the house. "Even with the broken arm, he's still mobile, so technically he could be anywhere. His phone is upstairs next to the bed, like he had started to charge it and then just. You saw the car in the driveway, so he didn't drive off."
"His weapon?" Derek asked.
Stiles was surprised he hadn't thought about it. "Didn't check," he admitted. "This way."
Stiles led to the office space where John had a gun safe. Assuming the combination hadn't been changed, Stiles opened the safe.
"Still here," Stiles said as he peered into the safe. "His duty weapon and a back-up weapon are inside. He didn't say anything about having gotten another."
"In the nightstand," Derek said. "He found a nightstand online that had a locking drawer. He had something in there, if I'm not mistaken."
"Oh, cool," Stiles nodded.
They went upstairs and Stiles stepped back to allow Derek to check the nightstand. The key was in a notch in the bedframe that kept it accessible but not in the lock. Stiles would have to look closer at that set-up later.
Derek opened the sliding top of the nightstand. "There's a pistol here," Derek announced. "That's all he has, as far as I know."
"Okay, he left without his phone and without any weapons," Stiles said. He waved a hand. "Um... any strangers in the house?"
Derek took a moment to concentrate on smelling the area. "Nothing I can find," Derek replied. "Just you, your Dad, Peter, and me."
"Peter?" Stiles asked.
"They've been... hanging out..." Derek admitted.
Stiles' brain went what the fuck? before realizing his dad had a type and Peter probably was it.
"Okay, so no strangers," Stiles said. "Would dad and Peter go off somewhere without saying something?"
"Your dad wouldn't leave if you were coming home," Derek said firmly.
"Can we reach out to Peter, to see if he knows anything?" Stiles asked.
Derek got out his phone and dialed. He shook his head when the call dropped to voicemail.
"Peter. Give me a call back. Stiles is in town and we have some questions." Derek ended the message. "Don't want to worry him."
"Were you guys working on anything special?" Stiles asked. "Dad doesn't talk about active cases too much, so is there anything that could have lured him out?"
Derek shook his head. "Nothing special," Derek said. "We have the occasional folk trying to use the small town as a cover for drugs. We've had folk try to set up a lab, and also try to use some of the warehouses on the outskirts as a depot. But the Pack is on top of that sort of thing and they don't last long."
Stiles grinned. "That's brilliant!"
Derek blushed and took a breath. "There's a lot more supernatural folk in town than you might think," he admitted.
"Dad said something about that," Stiles replied. "You have, what, about fifteen people in your Pack?"
"Closer to twenty-five," Derek replied. "In addition, there's an assortment of magic users, everything from hedge-witches to a druid."
Stiles made a face. "A druid? Really?"
"Oh, the hedge-witches checked her out the second she moved into town," Derek grinned. "She's nothing like Deaton and has been helpful in protecting the town."
Alan Deaton had quietly left town not too long after Scott gave up responsibility for Beacon Hills to Derek. Stiles had itched to follow that up but decided to leave well enough alone.
"That's a great thing," Stiles said.
"Let's see what you can find and then I can get the Pack started on helping," Derek said. "Finding your dad isn't something you should be doing alone."
"That would be great!" Stiles replied. "Okay. I'm set up in the dining room. We can go there and see what I can find."
Stiles had set up a map of the area on the dining room table. His dad had obviously been home earlier in the day and, hopefully, hadn't gone, or been taken, too far.
"What do you need me to do?" Derek asked.
"Ground me," Stiles said. "Your hand on my back will be good. I'll need to move, mostly my arms, but the touch will keep me grounded."
Derek moved closed and placed his hand between Stiles' shoulder blades. Stiles soaked in the warmth.
"Good," Stiles nodded. He took a breath and focused.
Some time later, Stiles realized Derek's hands were on his shoulders, holding him up.
"You okay?" Derek asked, concerned.
Stiles nodded, then took a deep breath. "Someone has him behind a shield and I had to work through it to find him. Them."
"Them?" Derek asked.
"Peter is there, too," Stiles said.
Stiles felt Derek's hands flex for a moment. "Okay. First of all, you sit and have something to drink."
"There should be something in the fridge," Stiles nodded at the kitchen as Derek hauled a chair over for Stiles to sit on.
Derek brought back a bottle of Gatorade. "Didn't know dad even liked this stuff," he said, cracking open the top.
"Peter likes it," Derek said.
"Really? That's unexpected," Stiles replied. He drank down part of the bottle.
"I think he likes it out of spite about something," Derek shrugged. "I don't see what he likes about it, but your dad keeps it for him."
"Ah!" Stiles wasn't going to ask.
"What did you find?" Derek asked.
"They're in the fucking Preserve, near the fucking Nemeton," Stiles sighed.
"Fuck."
Stiles snorted. "That's about it."
"What can we do?" Derek asked. "How much time do we have?"
Stiles looked at the time. "It'll be dusk in a couple of hours," he said. "And... it's the new moon tomorrow night." He considered. "Maybe whomever took them will wait for the new moon... maybe not."
"What do they want?"
"Most likely, the Nemeton," Stiles admitted. And me. He wasn't ready to admit that to himself, much less to Derek.
Derek paused and then really looked at Stiles. "You locked it down."
"Darn tootin' I did," Stiles nodded. "Wasn't going to let anyone else take advantage of it."
"That's why you stayed away," Derek said.
"Meh," Stiles shrugged. "There are ley lines everywhere. I'm never really far from it, in the end."
"But... coming back? Does that mean anything?" Derek asked.
"I was really hoping to check on the wards I put down but stay mostly away from it," Stiles admitted.
"And... now?" Derek asked.
"We'll both find out," Stiles replied with a small shrug. But he knew being there would make him make some decisions he had been avoiding.
"Whatever you need," Derek said instantly.
"You don't even know what that means," Stiles said gently.
"There's a... tie to the land," Derek admitted. "There have been Hales here since... forever. Peter and I talked about it a couple of times. It's why we've both stayed."
"I make no promises on what happens, once we get there," Stiles warned.
"How about more help?" Derek said.
"Sure," Stiles said. "What were you thinking?"
"I have a group of ten 'wolves that regularly patrol the Preserve," Derek said. "They know the land and I'll bet we can use all the help we can get."
"I need different clothes..." Stiles started.
Derek looked down at his uniform. "So do I," Derek agreed. "You change and I'll call my guys. They'll meet us at the trail head."
"Got it," Stiles said. He quickly changed into sturdy jeans, a long sleeve shirt, and boots suitable for hiking. He got his extra ammunition from his car and his bullet-proof vest.
Derek nodded. "Good idea," he said.
It turned out that Derek lived down the street from the Stilinski home. It also backed onto the Preserve.
"Nice," Stiles said as he saw the house.
"It's been good, living in a stable place for the past few years," Derek admitted. "And with your dad just down the street, the neighbors are used to the cruiser coming and going."
"True," Stiles admitted.
Derek quickly changed into similar clothes. He brought his service weapon and extra ammunition.
"Wear the damned vest," Stiles said, knowing Derek would have one as part of being a deputy. "You don't know what someone else might be using."
Derek grinned. "And having to dig out a bullet and then heal is painful. I agree."
They left the cruiser and took a sturdy SUV Derek had in his garage.
"I have gear in the back," Derek said. "We use this when I'm patrolling the Preserve, or it's a full moon run."
"You've done well," Stiles said.
Derek's ears got red as he nodded.
When they got to the trail head, there was a small group already waiting for them.
Derek did a quick introduction. "Everyone, this is Stiles, John's son. He's magic, so mind your manners."
Nods all around.
Derek pointed at the other 'wolves. "Bill, Cherry, Amal, Bob, Matt, Evan, Alex, and Evelyn," he said. "Fred is working and can't get here for another hour, and Harriet is away, visiting her mom."
"Good to meet you, sorry to drag you all out like this," Stiles said.
"The Sheriff is involved," Bill said. "We'll do what we need to."
"We don't know what we're going into," Stiles said. "Someone has my dad and Peter under a shield, to the east of the Nemeton. I'm making an educated guess that the goal is to break the wards around the Nemeton. That shouldn't happen but, well, anything is possible."
"Those are your wards," Cherry's eyes were wide. "They're good."
Stiles grinned. "Yeah. I have reason to protect the Nemeton, so I did some research before I put them up. They shouldn't come down unless I take them down."
"What if that's the plan?" Alex asked. "Get you there and then use the hostages to make you take them down?"
"To be honest, I'm assuming that is the plan," Stiles admitted. "What I'm not known for is planning and getting help. You guys are my back-up." He hesitated. "But I may need to be the one to deal with whomever is there. Be prepared for me in case I have to do something magical."
Derek looked worried for a moment but the others nodded.
Evelyn leaned in. "Bob and I can do a full shift," she volunteered. "We'll break off from the group and circle around. We can go faster on four feet."
Stiles looked at Derek. "Will you know where they are? I don't want them caught in any cross-fire."
"They're good," Derek said.
Evelyn and Bob started to strip off their clothes and Evan took charge of their things. Stiles realized they had likely been doing something similar for a while.
They shifted and moved closer to Derek for a moment. Derek ran a hand over them and they melted into the forest.
"Let's go," Stiles said.
The 'wolves set a steady pace that was definitely slower than their usual pace, for Stiles' benefit. They moved relatively quietly through the woods.
"Sorry," Matt said at one point. "The quickest route to the Nemeton means going through a nasty ravine."
Stiles sighed. "There's always a fucking ravine. I'll manage."
Having a pack of 'wolves helped. They brought out some ropes to help Stiles manage the ravine and they all but hauled him up the other side.
Stiles took a deep breath for a moment. "Well, that was easier than it might have been. Thanks."
Matt nodded and headed further into the woods.
Amal called a stop at one point. "Something up ahead but I can't tell what. But it doesn't belong there."
"Ah. That makes it my turn," Stiles said. He took his pack off and dropped it next to a tree.
He crept forward to what turned out to be a clearing. He could see one person sitting in front of a small, smoky fire and two still forms on the ground.
Fucking Alan Deaton.
Stiles sighed. Derek wasn't going to like this but, well, needs must. Without further hesitation, Stiles strode out into the clearing.
"Ah! Stiles," Deaton nodded. "Good to see you again."
"Not so much," Stiles replied, crossing his arms. "What did you do?"
"They're unharmed," Deaton said as he poked at the fire. "So far."
"I'm assuming you want access to the Nemeton," Stiles said.
"Of course," Deaton nodded. "Scott is only so helpful to me and by giving away authority to Beacon Hills, that has further impeded my goals."
"Taking power from a Nemeton has... consequences," Stiles said.
"It's been helpful so far," Deaton shrugged. "I will be fine. Once you drop those wards."
"You really, really don't want me to do that," Stiles warned.
Deaton pulled out a gun.
Stiles stared. "A gun? Really?"
"Needs must," Deaton admitted. "It's actually easier than using magic."
"I don't know if I'm impressed or disappointed," Stiles frowned.
Deaton pointed the gun at the bodies on the ground. "Wolfsbane in the bullets. I will kill both Peter and your father."
Stiles flicked his fingers at the bodies. Deaton wouldn't see it but he had surrounded them with a mountain ash shield. Bullets would be stopped by it.
"How did you get them? Peter's as paranoid as they come and dad is no slouch," Stiles wanted to understand before he did anything else.
"I still had some kanima venom," Deaton admitted. "I got Peter with that. I lured your father out of the house once I had Peter and then dosed your father."
"Huh," Stiles nodded. "Simple but, obviously, effective."
Stiles flicked his fingers again, putting a mountain ash barrier around the clearing. He didn't want the next part of this to affect Derek or his pack.
"What happens when I let you get to the Nemeton?" Stiles asked.
"Oh, depending on how my interaction with the Nemeton goes, I may or may not let you go," Deaton said cheerfully.
"Well, that's no incentive to drop the wards," Stiles shrugged.
"You die, and then the wards will drop and then I have what I want," Deaton shrugged. He waved the gun towards Stiles. "I could shoot you instead."
That wasn't the way Stiles had set the wards up, but now wasn't the time to admit that.
"You really want me to drop the wards around the Nemeton?" Stiles asked.
Deaton stood, holding the gun steady as he pointed it at Stiles. "Yes!"
"Be careful of what you wish for," Stiles said. He didn't need to, but he held his arms out wide. Also, it would hopefully warn Derek and his 'wolves that something would be happening.
Deaton stood and moved to the edge of the wards.
"Mother Moon, your faithful servants ask for your protection and support in our time of need," Stiles intoned. "Grant Alan Deaton access to your representative and show him the strength it offers to those who follow your path."
Stiles dropped his hands and the wards dropped. Stiles focused on holding the mountain ash barriers, to protect his dad and Peter as well as the 'wolves, from the full impact of the Nemeton.
Deaton walked closer, seeing the full grown Sequoia that stood in place of the stump that had been there for years.
"Ohhh... you are lovely," Deaton said as he reached out to place his hands on the tree.
"I wouldn't..." Stiles whispered. He really didn't want to stop Deaton at this point.
Deaton's hands landed on the tree. "Mine!" he crowed. But then a white light flowed from the tree, through his body. The light grew brighter and Stiles closed his eyes. When the brightness disappeared, Stiles opened his eyes to find that Deaton was gone.
"Stiles! Let us in!" Derek demanded from behind of him.
"Give me a minute," Stiles called back. "I need to re-raise the wards."
He heard Derek huff.
Stiles leaned down and placed a hand on the warm earth. He focused on re-raising the wards. They refused to raise. He sighed. Standing he turned to Derek.
"It wants both of us," Stiles admitted. "It wants to... formalize your tie to the lands." He held out a hand.
Derek hesitated.
"You big lug," Amal sighed, giving Derek a small push. "You deserve this."
Derek turned to the 'wolves. "Are you sure?"
"You're the reason some of us are here," Bill said patiently. "Being part of the Hale Pack is an honor. Do it."
The others nodded.
"All right," Derek said. He stepped forward and took Stiles' hand. Stiles pulled him through the mountain ash line. Derek's eyes went wide when he realized what Stiles had done.
"Did you really need us?" Derek asked.
"I needed your belief that I could do this," Stiles admitted. "I might have done it on my own but your faith, and your Pack at my back, gave me the strength to do it."
Derek nodded. "We will talk about all of this."
"Later," Stiles promised. "We have one more thing to do."
"Whatever you need," Derek agreed.
Stiles snorted. "You shouldn't be so trusting."
"I trust you," Derek said softly, eyes on Stiles.
Stiles took a breath at the depth of that. "Okay. Let's go."
Holding Derek's hand, Stiles led Derek to the Nemeton. "It doesn't look like this when your wards are up." Derek said, looking up at the towering tree.
"The truth is that the Nemeton protects itself, mostly," Stiles admitted. "It's letting you and your Pack see it because it trusts you. You've done well, protecting the area and it appreciates that."
"What now?" Derek asked.
"You introduce yourself to the Nemeton," Stiles said as they walked closer to the tree.
"But..." Derek swallowed. "Deaton?"
"Deaton only wanted to take -- take the power of the Nemeton," Stiles replied. "There is a lot to the statement of be careful what you wish for. You... you only want to protect it. To protect that land. You have nothing to worry about."
"All right," Derek said. He stepped forward and placed a hand on the tree, not dropping Stiles' hand.
Stiles watched as Derek interacted with the Nemeton. A gentle flow of light went through Derek and he shuddered.
Then Derek took a breath and stepped back. "That was... intense."
Stiles laughed. "Yes, it would be. Come on, your Pack is starting to worry."
They went back to the others. Evelyn and Bob were there, in their wolf forms.
Stiles dropped the mountain ash wards and the Pack surrounded Derek for a moment. They all reached out to touch him, to reassure themselves that Derek was all right.
"I need to check on Peter and dad," Stiles said, moving away from the group.
"They're waking up," Matt offered.
The group followed Stiles to the bound men and Stiles broke the mountain ash line around them. The 'wolves swarmed Peter and his dad, freeing from the ropes around their wrists and ankles.
"I didn't even see you do whatever you did with the mountain ash," Cherry admitted as she used a claw to free Peter's legs. "Make circles like that."
"Lots of practice," Stiles admitted with a small grin.
Peter was awake but the kanima venom had not totally worn off. "Check John," Peter ground out. "I can tell he's in some pain."
"Deaton probably wasn't gentle with him," Stiles said. He didn't want to think about what he had done in getting two unconscious bodies this far into the woods.
Derek reached out and started pulling pain from John. "It's not a lot," Derek said. "But he's been roughed up enough that he should be checked out."
"Take him in to the hospital," Peter said with a thread of worry in his voice. "It won't be long before I can move on my own."
Stiles looked between the two men. The worry in Peter's voice and how his dad was curled around Peter, even while unconscious. Oh. All right. He could live with this.
"I have a portable stretcher in my car," Evan said. "Let me get that, if you think we can spare the time."
Derek looked up at Stiles.
Stiles nodded. "Yeah, I think that will let us get him out of here easier," he decided.
"Be right back," Evan said. He changed to his beta-shift and ran into the forest.
"I'll move my van," Alex said. "The route back is slightly longer but it avoids the ravine. It'll be easier to transport them in the van."
Derek nodded. "Go. We'll meet you there,"
Alex ran off in a slightly different direction.
Evan came back with the stretcher and Stiles was extremely grateful to the strength of 'wolves. Two helped a recovering Peter stumble through the woods and two carried John on the stretcher.
Peter was almost fully recovered by the time they got to the hospital. There were more in-the-know medical professionals than there had been years ago, which allowed John to be whisked away to a private room.
"We'll be back at your place," Matt said to Derek. "Let us know when you're headed that way and we'll have some hot food ready."
Derek nodded. "That works. Thank you all."
"It's Pack," Evelyn said. "That's what we do."
The others left Derek and Stiles alone in the waiting room. Peter was on a second bed in the room John was in, not wanting to be far from John.
The doctor came out to them and took them to a corner, to speak privately. "Peter is fine, he's pretty much recovered from what was done to him. The Sheriff is awake and tracking but I really want to keep him overnight for observation." She huffed. "But both he and Peter want to leave."
"Amal is an EMT," Derek said. "He'll hang around and keep an eye on them."
The doctor rubbed her forehead in frustration. "Okay, I'll let them go, only if someone will be with them."
"We'll go to dad's house?" Stiles suggested. "If we get them upstairs, I can set up a temporary ward so any noise won't bother them."
"That works," Derek said. "Since it's just down the street from my place, they can cook or do whatever there and bring it back to yours."
"Sounds like a plan," Stiles nodded.
The doctor pointed at them. "Don't let the Sheriff skive off on the meds," she said. "I'll make sure he has a dose of the pain medication and an antibiotic now, and I'll send some home with you."
"We'll take care of it," Stiles promised.
"And call or come back the minute he doesn't feel better," she went on.
"We will," Derek nodded.
It didn't take long for John and Peter to be ready to leave. Peter sat in the required wheelchair only because John glared at him. Stiles thought it was cute.
Derek had warned the others that they were going to the Stilinski house and the house was open and lit when Derek pulled his SUV up to the door. Peter helped John out of the SUV and Derek took the SUV home.
The 'wolves all gently checked John and Peter out as Stiles prepared the upstairs.
"I'm fine!" John protested as he was guided to a chair.
"You need to drink something and eat," Evan said. "Amal will stay, that's the only reason the doc would let you go."
"I'll keep an eye on him," Peter offered.
"Amal is staying for the night," Derek said firmly. "That's non-negotiable."
"Oh, all right," Peter gave in with a pout.
Bill and Cherry came in with pots of stew. "We raided your stash," Cherry admitted to Derek. "Figured this was the rainy day you were saving it for."
"Perfect," Derek agreed.
Stiles found rolls and lunch meat in the refrigerator, likely in anticipation of his visit, so he added that to the offering.
Stiles watched as his dad ate a bowl of -- very good! -- stew before obviously flagging. Amal stepped in at that point.
"Okay, I think a shower and bed will be best," he announced. "We can debrief tomorrow."
Stiles stood back, letting Amal and Peter guide his dad upstairs. He forced himself to eat some stew and a sandwich, knowing he needed the energy.
When Amal came back downstairs, there was a flurry of clean up. They all scented Derek and then it was the three of them.
"How is he? Really?" Stiles asked.
"Mostly shaken up and in some pain," Amal replied. "The antibiotics are mostly a precaution, since some of the scrapes got dirty somewhere along the line. But the shower cleaned that up. They'll both sleep well tonight."
"Good," Stiles said. "And thank you for staying."
A quick grin. "It's what we do," he admitted.
Stiles stifled a yawn.
"Okay, you need some sleep, too," Derek said. "You did a lot of heavy lifting, finding them and then doing what you needed to."
"Meh, the Nemeton did a lot, in the end," Stiles shrugged.
Derek looked at Amal. "Will you be okay down here?"
"Sure! The couch will be fine and I'll check on both John and Peter during the night," he replied. "You get some rest."
"Good," Derek replied. He took Stiles hand. "Come on."
"What?" Stiles was confused.
"Your dad put a queen bed in your room a couple of years ago," Derek explained. "He figured? Hoped? Hoped you'd come home with someone."
"Huh," Stiles replied. "I guess I'm calling it a night."
Amal gave a smile.
Stiles followed Derek upstairs.
"Take a shower," Derek directed. "I'll take one when you're done."
"Oh. Wait. You're staying here?" Stiles was confused.
Derek gave him a look.
Oh!
"Right. Shower... just a quick one," Stiles replied. It was quick but it did feel good to wash off the sweat from the day.
Stiles dressed in shorts and a t-shirt and crawled into the very comfortable bed. It wasn't long before Derek was crawling in behind him. Derek wrapped an arm around Stiles' waist, pulled him close and whispered, "Sleep."
Stiles did.
It was daylight when Stiles woke, sunlight sneaking in around the blinds. Derek was gone, the other side of the bed was cold, so Stiles took a breath. Then another.
Dressing, Stiles went downstairs to find the Pack moving around like they lived there. Maybe they did, Stiles realized. Peter and John were at the table, already eating.
"Food in the kitchen," Bob told Stiles.
"Great!" Stiles smiled. There were pastries, three different quiches, a huge pile of bacon, and sliced ham. Stiles took some of everything and sat at the table.
"How are you doing?" Stiles asked.
"Okay," John replied. "Just... achy. I don't know what he did but parts of me feel like Deaton dragged me through the woods."
"He couldn't carry both of you but he could likely lighten the load, so to speak," Stiles guessed. "He likely did drag you most of the way. But he needed you to be the Nemeton to make me come there."
"He was after the Nemeton," Peter said.
Stiles nodded. "But people like Deaton don't realize that you don't get to take from a Nemeton without consequences. He was able to craft a... drain, so to speak, based on using the connection of a 'wolf to the node."
"My mom," Derek said softly.
Stiles nodded. "Most likely. Then Scott. But Scott 'gave away' ownership of Beacon Hills and cut himself off from the land. Which cut Deaton off from the Nemeton."
"Should we check on Scott?" John asked.
Stiles sighed. "I think so, but maybe indirectly? Can we reach out to like Mel or someone who can check on him without it obviously coming from us? If Scott's been affected, it's going to be our fault, even if it was Deaton all along."
"I know how to do that," Cherry volunteered.
"Thanks," Stiles nodded. "What happened? I got some parts from Deaton but want to hear your side."
"I was stupid," Peter admitted. "Deaton shot a dart at me. The first one missed and instead of just getting away, I went to see who shot at me. The second dart got me. He blew some wolfsbane into my face and it knocked me out."
"Deaton came to the door with a gun in his hand and Peter in the back of his car," John admitted. "Either he was going to kill me right there or I could get into the car." He shrugged. "I got into the car. Then he shot me with the dart and it pretty much knocked me out."
"Simple, but effective," Stiles nodded. "I called Derek for help and then scried for you. Found you both, near the Nemeton and made an educated guess that was the plan."
"I think I told everyone in town you were coming to visit," John admitted with a wry grin.
"Hey, it's usually a good thing," Stiles replied. "Derek got the Pack together and we found our way to you. Deaton threatened to shoot you if I didn't give him access to the Nemeton. So, I did. I warned him that he didn't know what he was asking for but he went to it anyone. In the end, the Nemeton took him."
The Pack was silent.
"The wards wouldn't raise because the Nemeton wanted to meet Derek," Stiles went on. "It knew Derek was responsible for the land and, as a Hale, it wanted that connection."
"It was..." Derek considered. "I don't know how to describe it. It was warm and welcoming and... a lot."
"You feel different," Peter said thoughtfully.
Derek shrugged. "I feel okay."
"There's something..." Matt said. He flashed his eyes at Derek, who automatically flashed back.
Red!
"Ah. The Nemeton wanted a real Pack and made you an Alpha," Stiles said gently.
"What? No!" Derek protested.
"Yes," Peter said firmly. "You've been here. You stayed. You built a Pack. You protected the land. You deserve it."
"I..." Derek took a breath. "I don't know what to say."
"You've been doing the work," Matt said. "It's a good thing."
There was a round of acknowledgment from the others.
Derek blushed. "Thank you."
"And it's a similar concept. You didn't want it but you'll do a good job," Stiles said.
"Okay, okay," Derek gave a small grin.
"Since everything is settled, for the moment, I need to get to work," Alex announced, standing up.
Everyone pitched in to clean up and they left after scenting Derek.
"I'll be back late afternoon to check on you," Amal announced to John and Peter. "Sleep as you need to and no exertions until I can check on your scrapes." He glared at Peter. "You, keep your hands to yourself."
"Spoilsprt!" Peter grinned. "If I have to!"
"I have an afternoon shift," Derek announced. "I can stick around until then."
"Umm... maybe you can show me your house," Stiles grinned. "I mean, if you like. And, well, I promised you a conversation."
Derek smiled. "I'd like that."
"Okay, we'll be here," Peter said. "Take your time." But he got up and wound his arms around Derek for a long moment before letting them leave. Derek held Peter tightly.
Derek took Stiles' hand on the short walk to the other home. It was warm and comfortable.
Inside, Derek gave Stiles a cursory tour. The house was styled similar to the Stilinski home, but it was interesting to see the differences.
They sat on the comfortable couch and Derek again took Stiles hand.
"My 'wolf likes you," Derek admitted. "I do, too."
"That's good, because I like you," Stiles replied easily. "Neither of us were in a good place when I was here last."
"I agree," Derek nodded. "It's taken a lot of time, that we both needed."
"Getting out of here let me learn a lot that I wouldn't have if I had stayed," Stiles said. "I learned a lot about my magic and got to see a lot of the country." He grinned. "Even if some of it was Nowhere, Nebraska."
"There are a lot of plain places," Derek agreed. "But... now what?"
"Once someone understood my connection to the Nemeton, even at a distance, there were contingency plans put in place," Stiles said. "The FBI wants to keep me on, they've made that plain. To keep me, they'll pretty much let me work from wherever I need to be. So I can be based in Beacon Hills. There are a number of things I can do that is remote work... writing manuals, analyzing data, looking for supernatural connections to cases, that sort of thing. There will be some travel when what I can do is needed somewhere else. But that will be case-by-case and not full time."
"I'd like to have you around," Derek said softly. "I want to get to know who you've become and how we work together."
"You're not the Derek I left ten years ago," Stiles nodded. "I want to get to know you again, too. And, as an Alpha, you'll find yourself even more protective of the area."
"Did you know that would happen?" Derek asked.
"I guessed?" Stiles admitted. "But I had nothing to do with what the Nemeton did. It did that on its own."
"When I was an Alpha before it was... heady... uncontrolled. This feels... better," Derek said.
"You're a different person," Stiles said. "You've grown into yourself and that makes the transition easier."
Derek nodded. "Look at us, being adults about everything."
Stiles laughed. "The good news about being an adult is that I can do this." He leaned in and gave Derek a soft kiss.
"Oh, yes," Derek rumbled as he returned the kiss.