Where to place the blame

Title: Where to place the blame
Author: PNZ
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing: gen
Warnings: character bashing, murder, discussion of murder
Summary: Explanations abound, fingers pointed, drama ensues. Mayhaps, justice will be served.
Note: Takes place after the warehouse events have somewhat concluded in S02.
Art by PNZ

Peter took stock of the warehouse’s inhabitants. Everyone seemed to be preparing to take their leave, including his nephew, Derek. Peter watched as his mistake, Scott, trotted off with the Argents as Stiles looked on. A myriad of emotions crossed Stiles’ face before it went blank as Miss Martin addressed him. He simply nodded, agreeing to her demand to take them home, ignoring her ignorance of his pain. 

They were all ignoring his pain.

Peter reached out and held Derek back. At Derek’s look of confusion and anger, he gestured to their oft times savior, “Pay attention. We have some things to take care of right now, but afterward—later, we need to go speak with him.”

Derek took a moment to watch the scene play out in front of him, and nodded in agreement. He indicated to Isaac to go with the other teens, “Go with them, explain to Jackson about anchors and answer whatever other questions he might have for now. Stiles will fill him in on the rest another time. He needs to get home to his father for the moment.”

Isaac just did as he was told, and off they all went, backing out of the warehouse. Derek and Peter both twitched at the sounds the Jeep was making. “We will have to see about helping him with that. From what I’ve gathered, that machine has been harmed quite a bit in the rescuing of your pups.”

“Hmm.” Derek looked around the warehouse and then back at his uncle. “What now?” 

“Now—now you need to take a look at the pack bonds, nephew. Do they seem healthy to you?”

Peter pulled him out of the warehouse and towards the preserve. “Come, we will go somewhere we can meditate and you can concentrate. There are things we must do to keep the pack healthy and prevent further issues.”


Peter directed Derek to the Nemeton, a location guarded by their family for generations. There was a persistent prodding at the back of his mind, welcome—if not insistent. It seemed his intentions were to be accepted and all for the better. 

“Here, in the heart of the power of the lands of our family—our pack—we can safely sink into ourselves and look at the bonds.”

“Uncle Peter, I don’t know what you—” Derek growled, his distrust almost another person in the clearing. 

Peter put a hand up to stop him. “I know, you don’t trust. Honestly, nephew, I haven’t given you much reason to. However, in this, I must ask for your patience. Once you see the bonds much will become clear. The nemeton will not let you come to harm.”

At his words, Peter backed off and sat with his back against the stump, easing into a comfortable position. “You must view the pack bonds, Derek. And then you must—we must decide the fate of those two bonds that are benefitting from the Hale inheritance.”

“McCall and Argent,” Derek breathed with both anger and regret. “But how do we—”

“All in due time, nephew. All in due time. Step one must come before ten.” Peter once again gestured for his nephew to sit by him and meditate. This time he complied. 

Once they both returned to consciousness, Derek turned to his uncle with a look of horror upon his face. “We can remove them, right?”

“Yes, we can. There is a ritual that we can do immediately that will remove them and also renew our pact with the land. Is this something you are willing to do, Alpha?”

Derek stared at his uncle, weighed his past actions against what he had seen in his recent vision. The bonds connecting them to McCall and Argent were a sickly green and brown, giving off waves of deceit and corruption. The bond to his uncle was healthy, blue, full of love, loyalty, sorrow—but not regret. They would have to speak of that later. There were other bonds, but Derek couldn’t worry about them right now.

“Yes, this is something I am willing to do.”

“Then place your hand in mine like so,” Peter took hold of Derek’s forearm, and popped a claw. “Together we will feed a few drops to the nemeton, so she will know us.”

Derek gripped Peter’s forearm in return and popped a claw with his other hand. Together they drew a small amount of blood from the other and let it drip onto the tree stump next to them. 

Do you, Alpha, swear to protect this land to the best of your abilities?” an ethereal voice asked once their blood had soaked into the wood. 


Do you, Alpha, swear to protect your pack, and care for them as if they were your family?


Do you trust in Peter as your left hand to excise those who are corrupt from your pack?

“Yes, please.”

Both Derek and Peter felt an almost physical snap as the bonds to Scott and Gerard were cut. 

And you, Peter Hale, for your sacrifice I will complete the healing you attempted with your pseudo resurrection.

Peter felt another bond sever, only to be replaced with something better—more fulfilling. He would have to meditate again to figure out what was happening.

Now, the two of you need to go rescue my Spark. He is without assistance.”

And then it was quiet again. 


The Hales assessed their own bonds once again before heading out to the Stilinski residence. It had been less than an hour since the confrontation at the warehouse, yet they both felt an urgency—unhelped by the Nemeton’s closing remark—to reach their token human. 

Upon arriving in the quiet neighborhood, Peter was able to identify the correct house quite easily. The obnoxious blue jeep was sitting in the driveway for all to see. However, inside the home, there wasn’t an erratically beating heartbeat, but a sluggish one. “Derek—”

“Yes, I hear it too.” 

Together, they ran to the front door, pushing it open—quite easily, as it was unlocked. Stiles was half on the floor reaching in futility towards a phone laying on the table. At the site of the two men in the entryway, there was visible relief in Stiles’ eyes. “Gerard. Help,” he rasped before his eyes rolled up and he passed out. 

“Get him in the car, I will call the Sheriff,” Peter ordered, reaching for the phone.

“Other way around, uncle. You’re still on the missing list, remember?”

“Right, right. I’ll drive, too.” 

Derek started dialing immediately as Peter put Stiles in the backseat. Derek got in the passenger side, already speaking to someone in the Sheriff’s department, letting them know what was going on. 

Peter was halfway to the hospital before Derek’s phone rang with Noah Stilinski on the line.

Hale, what the hell is going on? Why is my son with you? Why does he need the hospital?”

“Sir, he exacerbated his injuries from earlier. I’m not sure exactly what happened, I came to find out. Found him struggling for the phone, he only said the name Gerard before passing out. We’re almost at the hospital now.”

Right.”  He paused. “Gerard. As in Argent?

“As in—you know, we can tell you more about that man and his insane family once you get here, sir.”

Two minutes.” He hung up.

“We need some help here!” Derek called out to the hospital staff by the emergency room doors. He prayed Melissa McCall wasn’t working that night. The last thing they needed was her—or her son’s judgmental attitude—getting in the way.

Stiles woke up a little while they were moving him to a bed. “Don’t let him near me, Derek. Argent. Keep him away.”

“Argent did this to you?”

The nurses around them were paying very close attention to the conversation taking place, and the Hales had no problem letting them. The more that knew to be wary of that family, the better.

Stiles coughed, blood spurting out of his mouth. “Took me from the game, beat on me in his basement. There were others there, too. Used Allison to attack them.”

One of the doctors who had come over during the talk gave a look to them all that the talk needed to end so they could take him in.

“We’ll take care of it, Stiles, and keep them all away.”

“Scott, too. He keeps siding with them.”

Everyone’s eyes widened at that. They had never thought a day would come to pass when Stiles and Scott weren’t joined at the hip.

Derek took a deep breath and nodded. “Scott, too. Now, the doctor is going to take you in. Your dad will be here in a minute, okay?”

“Protect him…” Stiles drifted off, passing out again. 

Looking up, Peter gave them all a hard stare. “He wasn’t kidding about the Argents, they are dangerous. No one from that family should be allowed near. I will find you some pictures.”

“We’ll explain to his father.”

“Yes, thank you. Just bring the pictures to the desk over there, Mr. Hale. And might I say, fantastic recovery,” one of the nurses said with a nod and smile, heading back to her area. “Are we to assume you were recovering at a special facility…where, exactly?”

“Why thank you, dear. Yes, those Swiss inpatient facilities are just out of this world. Excellent confidentiality contracts, as well.” Peter smiled at her in relief.

Everyone else went back to their jobs as the doctor took Stiles to the trauma area and most likely surgery.  


Fifteen minutes later, the doctors had stabilized Stiles enough that they felt comfortable waiting for his father to arrive before rushing him off for anything further. He would need surgery, however. 

When the Sheriff walked in, Peter was grateful that he simply nodded at them and went to consult with the doctors first. Derek had filled him in on what he had missed during his ‘dirt nap’ and also some of the other escapades in the last six months. He was also grateful that the nursing staff had taken it upon themselves not to notify the McCalls of the Stilinski’s arrival. Now to explain everything to the elder Stilinski before they were interrupted by Melissa or her son.

“You realize we are going to have to tell him everything, Derek, yes? Not the sanitized version.”

Derek sighed but nodded. “Yeah, I got that. The moment we rushed him over here, I got that. When he opened his mouth about the Argents, I definitely got that. There’s no way he or his father can stay safe if we don’t tell him what’s going on.” Derek sat with his face in his hands bent over in his chair.

“And what exactly is going on, gentlemen?” Noah Stilinski stood before them, hands on his hips.

“Ah, maybe we should take this to a private area, Sheriff. This is not a two-minute conversation.” Peter forestalled the interruption Noah was about to make with an upheld hand. “I promise all will be made clear, but we need to have some privacy.”

Noah eyed them both before finally acquiescing. A nurse helpfully pointed them to an empty office next to the nurses’ area. Derek stayed behind a moment to text her the promised photos and then joined them in the office, closing the door behind them.

“Why are you two here, and where the hell is Scott?” Noah started to take out his phone before Peter began to speak, placing his hand over the phone to prevent and communication.

“First, you should know that we did not harm your child. The staff here can confirm that when we brought him in, he requested that we keep all the Argents away as they are the ones who harmed him. He also requested—and you can confirm this with them as well—that Scott not be called.”

The Sheriff gave them a baffled look, marched outside, and spoke with the nurses at the desk. Once the story was confirmed he came back into the office. “Okay, keep going.”

Derek took over, explaining how he came to Beacon Hills in the first place, what happened with Laura. Werewolves. There were demonstrations. Peter described his interactions with everyone while he was insane. 

“Keep in mind that I was not in my right mind, please. I never harmed anyone not involved in the death of my family.”

“And Scott?”

“Yes, I do regret biting him. Not because I have harmed him, but because he took the gift of the bite and has used it for naught but bullying.”

Derek spoke again. “Scott keeps saying how much he hates being a wolf, but then turns around and uses all the gifts it gives him. Getting first line, attracting the girl he likes, getting rid of his asthma, being the hero.

“On the flip side, he constantly leaves your son behind, abandons him, puts his life in danger. Half of the things that happened to him the last few months wouldn’t have happened if McCall would have just stayed away from the Argents.”

“Argents. The hunter family. All of them?”

“Yes, sir. All of them hunt the supernatural. Kate—” Derek broke off, unable to continue. Peter put a comforting arm around him and took over.

“Kate preyed on Derek when he was younger, using him as an in to kill our whole family. They are supposed to have a code, but they don’t stick to it. Not even the young girl has stuck to her code.

“Scott has been dating Allison, and because of that, there have been extra hunts against all of us. They used Scott as a spy against us. Do not think, Sheriff, that Scott was unwilling. As long as he could be with his girl, Scott would do anything.”

Noah sighed, sitting down in the available chair and processed. 

The sheriff scrubbed his face after twenty minutes of silence. “So what happened tonight?”

Peter and Derek looked at each other for a moment, trying to decide who was going to break the news. Derek cocked his head in his uncle’s direction, indicating he should take the lead in this case. Peter nodded in agreement and took a deep breath before beginning the tale. 

“Right, let’s start with the fact that before we begin, you should put out a call to one of your deputies to come collect your son’s clothes and stand by to take his statement once he’s out of surgery.”


“Well, he did state when we stopped at your house, and again when he was here—surrounded by witnesses—that his injuries were caused by Gerard Argent. He also mentioned there were others in the basement. He also said that Allison helped him capture the others. I am unsure if Christopher was a party to this or not, but I wouldn’t be surprised. However, since your son made this statement in front of others, the statement and charge need to be made—the Argents are human and so is your son.

“Well, thanks. I didn’t mean that I don’t know how to do my own damn job, Hale. All you had to do give me a few moments and on the next break of whatever this is, a deputy would have been called to do just that.” Noah glared at Peter.

“Right. Apologies.”

Noah huffed but held up a hand before radioing one of his deputies to get over to the hospital to take care of things while he got the rest of the story. He waved Peter on.

“As to the evening’s events—” Peter took a beat to find somewhere to sit down. “Before your son managed to join the party, so to speak, there was a confrontation at a warehouse in the industrial area. Scott had called everyone to meet there—on Gerard’s request of course because Scott had been working with the man behind everyone’s back.”

Here Derek interrupted to fill in a few blanks. “I found that out when I overheard him and Gerard speaking at the police station the night of the massacre. It was Gerard’s people that shot everything up. He knew what was going to happen—didn’t care who got hurt. He just wanted to get control of the Kanima—so he killed Matt.”

“The what?” Noah asked, heart breaking all over again for the deaths of his people—it was written all over his face.

“The lizard thing that was killing all those people—paralyzing them? That was Jackson Whittemore. He wasn’t doing it willingly—that was—okay. When I first became Alpha, I bit Jackson at his request. But Jackson has a lot of personal issues that made his turning go wrong. He turned into a Kanima, a creature of vengeance that seeks a master. The master, in this case, Matt, used him to kill people. Then Gerard killed Matt and used Jackson to kill people. Jackson was unaware of what was happening the entire time.”

“Jesus. That poor kid.” The Sheriff scrubbed his face in frustration. “Wait, so the police van—”

“Your son was trying to keep Jackson from hurting others. He left Scott and Allison to watch him, but they decided to have sex instead and Jackson got free.” Peter rolled his eyes in frustration. 

“Continuing on. Gerard brought the Kanima out, using it and Allison to control everyone in the room, and had the Kanima capture Derek, paralyzing him. Scott forced Derek’s mouth open and was going to let Gerard get the bite from him. Gerard had planned on becoming a wolf and then killing Derek to become an Alpha to cure his cancer.”

“Jesus this is all just—that is such a violation. What the fuck was Scott thinking?”

“Well, apparently Scott and Deaton—”

“The vet?”

“Yes,” Derek confirmed. “He’s a druid, supposed to advise the pack as a sort of emissary.”

“Well, he was supposed to be the Hale pack emissary, not that he’s done a very good job. At all,” Peter added.

“So Scott and Deaton came up with a plan to switch out Gerard’s medication so that when he received the bite it would fail and he would die.”

“So instead of dying some other way, you would still be violated and it would be your fault he was dead?” Noah growled, incensed. 

“Pretty much. We, the Hales, view the bite as a gift, and as such we are both incredibly offended and furious at both of them for what they did. We immediately cut off the bonds once everyone cleared the warehouse.”

“And Argent?” Noah asked.

“No idea, fairly sure his son went after him. I know that Scott took off after Allison—didn’t even spare Stiles a second glance even though he looked beat to hell.”

“That’s where he went when that girl came for him?”

“Yes, sir. He came in, knocked the Kanima down with his jeep and brought Lydia in to bring the Kanima around so that he would stop hurting people and get him away from Gerard. Jackson is now a werewolf.” Derek waved his hand in the air as if trying to push everything away. “Jackson—I need to go speak with him, but after I know Stiles is okay.”

“No, no.” Noah shook his head. “You probably need to call him and get him here, have him where you can keep an eye on him and Lydia. I—”

“Sheriff?” Peter asked standing up. “Something on your mind?” 

“It’s just—okay. You said Scott was working with the Argents. He knew Jackson was this—”

“Kanima, yes.”

“Then the chances of him going to Jackson’s house to bother him and—”

“Get him to stay away from us? Yes, I see where you are going with this. Yes.” Peter motioned to his nephew to do what the Sheriff suggested. 

Derek took out his phone and made the call, speaking quietly with Jackson and Lydia in the corner of the room. 

“And where are you going, Peter?”

“I am going to stand out there and make sure no McCalls get in the way.”


“Melissa has a lovely habit of blaming your son for all of her son’s woes, staying blind to all of her son’s lies and issues. Did you know it’s never Scott’s fault?” Peter asked as he walked out the door.

Noah took a moment to absorb that before following, getting on the phone with his deputies about the Argents. They needed to understand the full threat of what was currently running around his county.

Within forty minutes both the deputies and the Whittemores, plus Lydia and Isaac were in the waiting room with the Hales and the Sheriff. Jackson had gone home and instead of letting him hide away, Lydia had insisted that he explain everything to his parents so that they could make an informed decision about what to do next. With Derek’s call, timely as it was, they decided they could get more answers if they all came together to support Stiles and make decisions as a group.

Mr. Whittemore and the Sheriff were sitting with Peter to get the history of the Argents while Derek explained to Isaac, Jackson, and Lydia the lifestyle of werewolves. Mrs. Whittemore listened in, asking questions about diet and exercise, whatever was needed to take care of her son.

A nurse came out to let them know that Stiles was doing well in surgery and that it would be at least another hour before they closed up and he would be moved to the recovery room. Everyone was cheered at this news. That lasted until they heard a commotion at the door and turned to look.

Melissa McCall had arrived, someone had to have called her—someone who obviously didn’t know how Stiles had arrived at the hospital or why he was in surgery in the first place. Someone who was going to be in a lot of trouble.

“Noah, what is going on? Why wasn’t I called? What did Stiles do now?”

“Excuse me?” Noah asked, anger clear in his voice. “What did Stiles—why the hell would you ask something like that? Also, why would anyone call you, Melissa?”

“David, what are you doing here?”

David Whittemore just shook his head and took his wife’s hand. “The question is what you are doing here, Melissa. One you haven’t answered yet.”

“Also, why is your question that Stiles did something?” Noah asked.

“Stiles always does something to land himself here. You know that, Noah,” Melissa explained, exasperated.

“No, I don’t know that, Melissa. I don’t know that at all. Why are you here and how did you know to come here?”

She took a step back from all the angry faces in front of her. “I received a call from one of the staff that you were here, that Stiles had been admitted.”

“And? The name? Because that’s definitely a violation of HIPPA.” David took out a pad and pen from his coat pocket, waiting for her to speak.

“Does that really matter right now? Will someone please tell me why you are all here and what Stiles did this time?”

“And there you go again.”

“Scott isn’t here, too, is he? He didn’t answer when I tried to call.” 

Derek snorted, calling attention to himself. “No surprise there. He’s probably with Allison, and therefore the rest of the world doesn’t exist. And to answer your question, Stiles didn’t do anything—except try to be the best person he could be. This time it’s your son that’s at fault.”

“Actually, nephew, I’m sure this isn’t the first time it’s Scott’s fault that Stiles is hurt or in trouble. I wonder,” Peter drawled, ignoring Melissa’s outraged demeanor, “how many times Stiles has been blamed for something and just took it because he knew no one would believe him. How many times has her darling son been touted as the Golden Boy and Stiles the Bad Child. Is it because of the ADHD? Because Stiles is so intelligent and Scott is most definitely not? Because Stiles is so selfless and Scott is so selfish?

“Ah—not done yet.” Peter shook his finger in Melissa’s direction at her attempt to interrupt. “Did you know that Scott has abandoned Stiles multiple times in life or death situations in the six months we’ve known him, all so he could get laid, and not seen a problem with it? Stiles kept Derek alive for hours, and when he tried to call your son for help, he hung up on him, because he was busy with his girlfriend. When he tried to keep Jackson safe from himself, he trusted your son to watch over Jackson—instead he left Jackson alone to go have sex with his girlfriend and Jackson unknowingly caused harm.”

“Lies, all lies. The two of you have ruined—”

“We have done nothing to Mr. McCall. He keeps trying to tell everyone around him about how we’ve ruined his life, but he has used the gifts given to him every chance he gets.”

“Tell me, Mrs. McCall, when was the last time Scott had an asthma attack?” Lydia asked sweetly. “Or was made to sit on the bench during a game? He’s certainly enjoying his popularity.”

“I know I haven’t seen him around my house in months, Melissa,” Noah put in.

“What are you talking about, Noah, he’s there all the time.”

“Is that what he tells you?” Noah raged quietly, bringing out Stiles’ phone. He unlocked it and shoved it in Melissa’s face. “Let’s take a look at the evidence, shall we? Exhibit A, the text messages—or lack thereof. Stiles has sent multiple messages to your son, but the number of replies are minimal—it seems like most of the replies are cancellation of plans. Or look here, please cover me.”

“And what about phone calls, Sheriff?” Isaac asked. “How many times has Stiles called him and did it go unanswered? And how many times has Scott called him?”

“Yes, why don’t we take a look at those records, Isaac.” Noah tapped the sent calls screen. “Oh, look at that, a steady decline in answered calls from Scott. And a rapid decline in calls from Scott to my son. I think we can submit that as Exhibit B.”

Melissa stood there in silent fury for a moment before spinning around stomping out the doors. 

The Whittemores spoke up then, unable to take the silence. “Is this why you won’t have anything to do with that boy, son?” David asked. Jackson looked up at his father, startled at the question. Isaac stood in the background silent, a confused look on his face. 

“Jesus, this is only a tiny part of why I wanted nothing to do with that idiot, dad.” Jackson and Lydia traded glances, a silent conversation. 

“Maybe you should elaborate, dear, in light of the circumstances,” his mother encouraged while running her fingers through his hair. “It seems there is a lot that’s happened in your life—in all of your lives—that we’ve been unaware of.”

Jackson let out a deep sigh and pinched his nose, as if trying to relieve a headache. “Right. Okay. I don’t even know where to begin.”

“Well, I would start with how you and my son and McCall became ‘enemies’ in the first place.” Noah tried to not look ridiculous using finger quotes, but Isaac and Derek couldn’t help but laugh at him. “All right, you two, that’s enough. You get what I mean.”

“Before McCall showed up, I was okay with Stiles. I mean, we weren’t best friends or anything, but I didn’t mind him. The problem—I don’t even know how to describe this. Just one day Stiles was able to talk to whoever—”

Lydia laid a hand on his harm to stop him and he paused to look at her. “Let me give this a try, because I remember it all, too.”

Flipping her hair, she began as if giving a lecture to a hall full of pupils. “Scott McCall does not share his toys. He, of course, is allowed to have as many toys as he wants, but no one else is allowed to have his toys or have toys of their own. Do you understand?”

“And my son is one of his toys?” Noah asked, sitting down again. “And does he care if his toys are broken? Is this a Dudley Dursley kind of thing?”

“Oh, yes. And points for making a Harry Potter reference, Sheriff. Stiles would be proud.” Noah gave her a small smile, which Lydia returned. “Once McCall claimed Stiles as his, suddenly no one else was allowed to touch. He got jealous of anyone trying to come near him. It was like Ron Weasley keeping Harry Potter from having any other friends, to continue the analogy. 

“Scott would engineer fights so that Stiles would put himself in between them and then out of loyalty label them enemies. Scott would constantly whisper and play with items in class, and the teacher would lecture Stiles and give him detention. Did Scott speak up and say it was him? No. Scott has always been a manipulative little shit, but no one was willing to see it. All of you adults kept blaming Stiles for whatever went wrong because he has ADHD. Since when does that equal Bad Child?”

“Stiles tried to help me,” Isaac spoke up quietly from the side of the room. Everyone turned to look at him and he curled in on himself. 

“Isaac, it’s okay. Just tell them.” Jackson indicated the seat next to Lydia, and Isaac came over to sit down.

“Stiles could see there was a problem, and he tried to help me. But whenever he tried to speak to me, Scott would get in the way. Lydia’s right, Scott doesn’t like it when Stiles tries to make new friends. You know that Stiles doesn’t even want to be on the Lacrosse team, right? He hates playing at this point and would quit if Scott wouldn’t give him grief.”

“That the little shit tried out with such severe asthma in the first place is ridiculous. Coach should have shut that down immediately. I know Stiles tried to.” Jackson looked at his father, eyebrow raised with a silent question. David nodded in response.

“Okay, so the McCalls are persona non grata—we understand.” Peter Hale pulled away from his position and pulled everyone’s attention to himself. “What we need to focus on right now is two things. One, the Argents, and two, Deaton.”

“I understand the Argents, somewhat. Although, I would love a longer explanation there,” David said. “However, Deaton? Let’s start with that, and go back to the Argents.”

The nursing staff was silently hanging out in the background listening to everything going on, taking in all the explanations. That they didn’t have any other major injuries showing up was a godsend, because they were learning all sorts of things tonight—things that answered a lot of questions.

“Alan Deaton is a Druid—an Emissary. He was the Emissary for the Hale pack when we were whole and hearty. Obviously, he failed miserably at his job. That he didn’t warn us that the Argent hunter clan was around or that one was specifically targeting a member of our pack—” Peter took a moment to rein himself in. “Alan is supposed to be guarding the Nemeton, the—it sounds silly, but it’s a magical tree of sorts, a place of power that is older the town. It’s a node—”

“You mean like a hearthstone, like in those Valdemar books?” Isaac asked. 

Peter laughed quietly under his breath. “Yes, something like that. Alan Deaton was supposed to be guarding it, and he failed spectacularly. He let Gerard Argent cut it down. He let someone poison it. Instead of it helping the town flourish, it’s calling all sorts of supernatural problems here. My family settled here as guardians of the town, to keep any supernatural problems away, to keep the peace. We were a healthy and peaceful pack. 

“Alan took his ‘keep the balance’ shtick a little too far and didn’t get involved at all. Talia decided that after the family reunion she was going to ask him to leave and find a new Emissary, one that would do their job. 

“The Argents—well, they are a scourge. They are supposed to keep to a code of only hunting supernaturals that are harming humans, but they just like killing anything non-human is the bottom line.”

Derek picked up his uncle’s tale. “It’s supposed to be run by the Matriarch—every hunting family is different—but Gerard had the reins and spread his crazy everywhere. And don’t think Allison hasn’t drunk the kool-aid, because she was attacking everyone just as much as her parents—Stiles admitted before he went into surgery that she helped capture people for her grandfather and knew he was in the basement.

“When Kate—” Derek paused, voice cracking over her name. “When Kate burned the house and killed our family, she purposefully made sure that Laura and I weren’t home. She wanted us to suffer. I think she was going to come after us later on or frame us for it or something. But then we found out that Peter had also survived. I wanted to stay with him because pack heals better with pack around—”

Peter looked surprised at this news. “But you left. The two of you left, left me at the mercy of anyone—”

Derek looked pained, guilty. “I didn’t have a choice, uncle. I was a minor, and Laura was now my alpha. She forced me to leave. Every time I tried to come visit, she caught me, and refused me the option.”

Peter put a hand on his shoulder, not knowing what to say. He looked up as a nurse cleared her throat. 

“Sorry, but—I’m not going to pretend I can’t hear everything going on in here. Does this mean, Mr. Hale, that if one of you comes in here, I should get someone specific to assist?”

Everyone stared at her in shock, except for Noah—he was chuckling quietly in his seat. “Stacey, everyone. Everyone, this is Stacey.

“To answer your question, yes. If one of the pack—that would be Peter, Derek, Isaac and Jackson—come in injured, you need to call Derek immediately. Then myself—” with a brief look over at David, who nodded, he continued, “and David Whittemore if you can’t reach one of us or you think there’s other kinds of trouble. Also if you think there’s something supernatural going on, call us.”

“May I ask what Stiles has to do with any of this? Because he wasn’t healing like you obviously can.” Stacey gestured at Peter’s face. 

“Stiles is—” Derek paused. He looked to his uncle, unsure of how to continue.

“Stiles is special. He is human, yes. While I know that most of you use him mostly has a researcher—I know that he figured out what was happening with McCall before that idiot boy did—he also has his own gifts, besides his brain.”

“And his penchant for finding trouble?” Noah asked.

“Yes, that too. Stiles knows who to ask to figure things out when he stumbles over a problem. He knows how to look at the big picture, how to parse out a knotted issue. He learns quickly and can focus on multiple things at once. But besides all of that, the young man is something else altogether.”

“Will you just spit it out?” Jackson demanded.

Peter smiled enigmatically. “From what I can tell, and from what Derek tells me of all of your shenanigans, it seems that young Mr. Stilinski is a Spark. With the proper training, he could become the pack’s new Emissary.”

The inner doors opened suddenly and a doctor in surgery scrubs approached. “Stilinski?”

Noah stood. “Yes, we’re all here for my son. He’s alright? Any issues? What was the damage?”

The doctor put up a hand to stem the flow of questions. “Your son is fine, stable and in the recovery room.” Everyone hugged each other and let out little sighs of relief. 

“The major issues were the internal bleeding, broken ribs—one of which punctured his lung. Had you not reached us so quickly he would have drowned in his own blood. There were enough broken bones that he could have injured himself further had we not gotten him into surgery, as well as put him on blood thinners to keep clots from occuring. 

“We will be keeping him here under observation and on medication for no less than three days, probably a week. A nurse will come down to get you once we put him into an actual room.”

“Doctor, there are security concerns, here. I’d like to post a deputy on his room at all times until the crisis is dealt with.” Noah was already texting out orders as he spoke.

“That shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll make sure he’s put in a private room, then, so he won’t be disturbing any other patients.”

Stacey then came over and pulled the doctor aside, speaking quietly with him. Noah couldn’t hear what was going on, but from the smirks on all of the wolves’ faces, he guessed that they could. “What has you so smug?”

“Our nurse friend is informing the good doctor about the McCalls and their status in regards to our group. I gather she was rather unimpressed with Melissa’s little show and everything that was said about Scott. She is making sure that neither of them will have access to Stiles,” Peter murmured in Noah’s ear. 

“Ah,” David muttered. He had walked over to hear as well. “I’m guessing that it will be all over the hospital in about ten minutes. Nothing travels faster than gossip in a place like this.”

The three men looked over at the nurses’ station and watched as the group of them were all on the phone or texting. Noah and David looked to Peter who just smiled and nodded. 

Tara Graeme walked into the waiting room, so Noah got up to fill her in on the situation. She decided to start with collecting statements from the nurses on duty when Stiles came in and then the Hales. Stacey had already handed over an evidence bag containing Stiles’ clothes. 


Two hours later, Stiles had been placed in a private room on the fourth floor with Deputy Jordan Parrish—newly hired to the Beacon Hills Sheriff’s Department—guarding his door. Parrish had a list, with pictures, of people who were not allowed in the room under any circumstances. The same list was to be provided to any relief protection, as well as the nurses’ station and the guards that were being placed on the floor in plain clothes. No one was under any illusion that the McCalls weren’t going to try and push their way into this, nor that Chris or Allison were going to try and wheedle their way out of trouble while Stiles was high on pain medication.

Noah, Derek, and Peter were sitting around Stiles’ bed while Jackson and Lydia stood by the door with Isaac. Deputy Graeme was standing by the recorder, waiting for Stiles to begin. 

“Stiles, just go ahead and tell us. The sooner you do this, the sooner we can start the pain meds. You aren’t allowed to give a statement if you are under the influence.” Tara waved her hand at the banana bags hanging near the top of the bed. “No one here wants you to suffer.”

“Yeah, I know, thanks. It’s just—I—fuck. I don’t even know where to begin. This whole thing is messed up beyond—and it just really fucking hurts. And don’t you even look at me in that tone of voice, old man. I can use whatever potty language I want right now.” Stiles jabbed a finger in his father’s direction, his father laughing weakly. 

“Right, so everyone knew that Scott McCall had this Disney romance thing going on with Allison Argent, right? But her parents had a real problem with it. I don’t know if it’s because they’re racist or because they would have a problem with any boy she wanted to date or because he’s poor—no clue. Anyway, they kept trying to break them up. Her mom really had a problem with it. At one point they had me running messages between them while they faked breaking up. So annoying. 

“Then the grandfather came to town and everything ramped up. The whole family freaked out. Her father is totes scared of that man, like he’s some kind of Sith. One day, the man just took over the Principal’s job. I have no idea how that happened, where the old one went. Just poof. New guy. And he was watching us. All of us. There were cameras everywhere—and he was using it to spy on Scott and Allison a lot. And the rest of us that he knew hung around them. Creepy.

“Anyhoo. Grandpa snatched me at the game with some of his goons. They threw me down in the basement of the Argent house. Allison was down there helping torture Erica and Boyd—”

Tara put up a hand to stop him, horrified look on her face. “Wait a moment, Stiles. Are you saying there were two other students in that basement, and another student was participating in their torture?”

“Yes, Erica Reyes and Vernon Boyd. They were hanging from the ceiling, and Allison had them attached to some low electric something—”

“She was electrocuting them?” Tara asked, visibly trying to keep calm.

“Yeah. Allison laughed when I was thrown down the stairs by Gerard, and she went upstairs to join him for something. I tried to free them, which is how I found out about the electricity part. Gerard quickly came downstairs and also laughed, then explained how I was there to be a message. For what and whom, I had no idea. But then I heard something about Scott holding up his end of the deal.”

“Scott McCall?” Tara clarified for the recording.

“Yeah, which—ugh. Talk about a complete betrayal. So Gerard decides to beat the shit out of me, and then he grabs me and dumps me a block from home.”

“What about the other two?”

“I have no idea. I am hoping they were released or someone got them?” Stiles looked to Derek and Peter, who shook their heads, worried looks on their faces. Noah was already on the phone calling it in. 

“Thank you, Stiles.” Tara stopped the recording. “Now, off the record, is there anything I need to know?”

“Find Scott, find out what the hell deal he made with Gerard and where he is now. I guarantee you either he or Christopher Argent know,” Peter told her as he and Derek made to leave. “Derek and I are going to go help in the search for Erica and Boyd, if you don’t mind.”

“Are they part of your pack?” she asked.

Everyone froze for a moment. “I am not an idiot,” Tara said. “Also, I’ve lived here my whole life. My family is full of sensitives. We are no strangers to the supernatural, and we are fully aware of the role your family fulfilled while they were alive. Their death has sent ripples throughout the community.”

Peter acknowledged her statement with a bow of his head as Derek gave a soft “yes”. 

“Okay, then. I will definitely take the help from the two of you.” Turning to the Sheriff she added, “I am going to call in SWAT, if that’s okay, sir, considering the amount of ordnance they are bound to have in that house.” 

“Go right ahead. I am going to stay here, and I’d like Isaac and Jackson and Lydia to stay as well, for all of our protection.”

All three teenagers agreed readily, and everyone broke up as the nurses came in to administer Stiles’ pain medication.

“Tara, the McCalls are not to be trusted at all. Scott made a deal with the devil over taking care of family all because he’s lusting after his granddaughter. The reason he’s not answering his phone right now? He’s with Allison.”

“Jesus. Okay, I will put an APB out for him and we’ll get a statement from him as well. I’m going to issue an arrest warrant for both Gerard and Allison for now. Not sure what to do about Christopher.”

“For now, there’s nothing we can do with him unless it’s aiding and abetting. We’ll have to see what he says. Just bring them all in.” Noah rubbed his face in frustration and gestured at his deputy to go on.


“You know, all of this craziness is going to bring too much attention,” Derek said quietly as they drove in the direction of the Argent household. 

“You think Deucalion is going to head this way?” Peter asked as he looked at the scenery out his window. “Want me to call him now?”

“Yes, actually. I think that all of this—well, whatever you can call it—all of it will have gotten his attention. If he’s not already on his way, then we should invite him.”

“State your case.” Peter looked at him, demanding an answer like he was ten years old again and arguing for more rights to knowledge in pack meetings. 

Derek sighed. “We need assistance, here. The local law enforcement has more knowledge of the supernatural than we thought, the hunter situation is a bit crazy, we have an omega who needs to be handled—along with his mother—in a way that doesn’t end in death. And it wouldn’t hurt if we had some assistance with training. Also, there is something very wrong with the land, can’t you feel it?”

“Yes, I can. For that reason alone, I think we should call.” Peter pulled out his phone and sent a text requesting a video call for the next day. “Request for video conference sent. Let’s focus on this confrontation for now, though.”

“Yeah, let’s do this.” Derek parked the car and took a deep breath. He looked at his uncle before they both exited and let the SWAT team go ahead of them to execute the warrants. 

Derek and Peter found a scent trail at the side of the house for the lost betas leading away from the Argent house into the backyard towards what seemed to be a hidden cabin. Derek paused before entering, listening for heartbeats inside, while Peter walked the perimeter to check for any traps or surveillance. 

Two deputies had joined the Hales at this point, and Derek had informed them that the two missing teenagers were in there with one other man, when Peter had joined them to let them know about the cameras. “There are also some traps, I think, so be careful. Better to let SWAT do this one.”

SWAT came and when they announced themselves, the hunter inside began threatening to kill his hostages. Derek couldn’t sit still, and after asking for permission, he let SWAT continue to distract the lone hunter. He and Peter crept up in the back and around the traps. The deputy that accompanied them helped them break the obvious mountain ash line that had been hurriedly laid down and they entered through a rear window. 

Once inside, they quickly separated. Peter pounced on the hunter, quickly subduing him while Derek released his betas with the deputy’s help. Deputy Ramirez called out for SWAT to enter and assist in the arrest and recovery of everyone inside. 

All in all, it was a good day for the Beacon Hills Sheriff’s Department. 

It was not a good day for the Argent family or Scott McCall.


  1. EM1

    Definitely enjoying your twist on this show in your stories especially with how you acknowledge that there’s no way everyone in Beacon Hills would have been oblivious to the supernatural shit show the town had become.

  2. I love how half the town knows and half the rest are finding out. Hopefully Stiles can use the Nemeton to cast a secrecy spell so anyone who tries to spill the secret is believed.

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