Work Text:
It started as all Pack meetings do. With an argument and a supernatural threat.
“Really? A chupacabra? I thought these guys preferred deserts like in New Mexico, maybe Arizona, but Cali? Seems like a stretch,” Stiles said as he and Lydia looked through the books Peter had brought on Stiles’ request and the printouts Stiles had collected.
“You’d be right, but then Beacon Hills has a tendency to surprise us, doesn’t it?” Peter replied with a smirk and a deadpan expression. “A chupacabra in the woods seems like something that would absolutely bother us.”
“The real question is how do we deal with it?” Erica piped up from her spot half on the couch and half on Boyd. “Boyd and I’ve got a date tonight.”
“Track your calories and sugar intake, Erica,” Stiles responded absentmindedly as he handed a page in Spanish over to Derek. “Could you translate that for me, please. Just tell me if there’s anything helpful or not.”
“I can read Spanish,” Peter protested as if offended Stile would ask someone else.
Stiles just smirked and handed another stack of pages to Peter and said, “I know, but I need you to translate this Hebrew stuff. Lyds and I have got the Latin covered. Anything of help in the bestiary, Ally?”
Allison looked up from reading the French writing of her great great uncle and shook her head. “Just says they avoid water and that the only liquid they drink is blood. Preferably still warm.”
“Kinky,” Isaac mumbled and Jackson snorted from where he sat next to him.
“I’ve got a reference to drowning,” Derek said. “This Spanish isn’t modern though, so I’d like a double check on that.”
Peter nodded and replied, “This says, in rather over the top florally language, that ‘a creature subsisting entirely upon the water of the body cannot sustain itself away from the river of red nor within the confines of the natural blue’.”
“So we can starve it. The natural blue meaning a regular river?” Stiles pondered. “So we’re back to drowning.”
Lydia hummed and added, “Seems like chupacabras go through times where they gorge themselves. They found a dead hiker yesterday and a couple dead dogs the day before, so I’d say it’s just begun its gorge. More bodies are going to drop.”
“How the hell do we drown a fifty-pound creature that can fly?” Stiles asked the room.
“Nets,” Allison offered.
“Knock it out first,” Boyd said.
“We could drug it,” Erica replied.
“We’re not going to kill it!” Scott cut off any other suggestions. Peter scoffed and returned to his reading. Derek squinted at the Alpha over his now crumpled page of Spanish. Stiles and Lydia didn’t even look up. The others just shrugged and sat waiting for the inevitable fight.
“We need to catch the thing and then return it to where it came from. New Mexico or something.”
Stiles finally looked up and he looked nonplussed but he said, “Okay, so I get the whole moral dilemma over killing werewolves or witches or whatever, but this thing literally doesn’t have a higher level of thinking. It’s like a rabid dog. If we release it back into the desert then it will just keep killing, any human stumbling upon it would be toast.”
“Not toast so much as a crisp drink,” Isaac interrupted.
Scott ignored the interjection and responded, “We don’t know that it isn’t aware! Weirder things have happened to us!”
“Chupacabras are beasts not a form of human,” Peter said.
“Oh!” Stiles exclaimed, “What if it’s not necessarily drowning, but just water? Like water is poisonous to it, thus why it stays in the desert. Maybe we just have to inject it with water and that would kill it.”
“Certainly easier than trying to drown it,” Peter replied with a shrug. “Do you have a weapon we could use to do that, Miss Argent?”
Allison nodded her head and replied, “Yeah. Same as the tranquilizer darts we used for the lamia in September. That enough water?”
“No idea until we try it,” Lydia responded.
“If it’s not enough, we could just try dumping a bucket of water on it,” Isaac suggested.
Jackson nodded and added, “I feel like we should try that first, actually. Seems easier to me.”
“You think lugging a bucket of water into the woods is easier than a gun?” Allison questioned.
“I think it’s easier to work than a gun. It’s a bucket, no skill required.” Jackson seemed to realize a moment later that he’d just insulted himself and Allison just laughed merrily as his face reddened. “All I’m saying is not all of us are comfortable bringing a gun into play!”
“I said we’re not killing it!” Scott all but shouted.
“What would happen if one of us got hit with a tranq full of water?” Erica asked.
“It’d probably be fine, but it would depend on if the water was sterile, where it was injected, how hard the needle hit. It could have some very bad unintended side effects,” Lydia explained. “I agree with Jackson. Buckets are easier and we can’t just rely on Allison hitting the thing with the tranqs, we all need to be prepared.”
“Okay, good point, Isaac and Jackson,” Stiles praised, causing the two in question to smile slightly. “But I raise you a bucket of water to… wait for it… water balloons!” Jazz hands accompanied the idea as well as a cheesy grin.
Erica laughed and pumped her fist, “Yes! Water balloon fight to the death! I call Stiles as my partner!”
Stiles laughed but Scott scowled and said, “Stiles won’t be coming, he’s too vulnerable, especially in the dark.”
“Hey, I saved your ass last week from that wendigo!”
“And your ribs are still bruised to hell because of it,” Lydia remarked drily. “Sit this one out, Stiles, we’ve got it covered.”
Stiles pouted and crossed his arms, “This isn’t fair, it was my idea for the water balloons. I could just hang out in the back and wait for you guys to kill it, then we could start the real water balloon fight.”
“I vote Stiles gets to go,” Erica said as she raised her hand. Boyd, Allison, and Isaac raised their hands as well.
“I vote he sits this one out,” Lydia said and raised her hand, followed by Jackson, Peter, and Derek.
“I cast my vote with Erica,” Stiles said unnecessarily.
“You don’t get a vote, Stiles! And we’re not voting about this anyway! I said he doesn’t go, so he doesn’t go!” Scott growled.
The room went very very still.
“Just for full understanding here,” Lydia drawled, “why doesn’t Stiles get a vote?”
“Cause he’s not pack!” Scott shouted. “He’s human!”
The room was still before but then it became stifling. “What did you say?” Peter asked with a deep growl hiding in the vowels.
Stiles just scoffed and said, “Humans can be pack, Scotty. Do you really not read any of the werewolf lore I send you on a regular basis? I know for a fact that everyone else does, even Jackson.” Jackson shrugged but he was too busy glaring at Scott to do much else.
Scott snarled and his eyes flashed, “Things aren’t like they used to be, Stiles. You don’t get to talk me into doing stupid things, now I make the decisions.”
Lydia looked like she was about to tear into Scott but she stopped when Stiles just laughed at the proclaiment. “Why, because you’re alpha?” he asked.
“Yes!” Those red eyes were boring into Stiles’ whiskey hued and utterly unimpressed ones. “I’m the True Alpha.”
“I still don’t think that’s a real thing,” Lydia said.
“Seconded,” Peter drawled. Peter was the tensest one of the whole group and if Scott had bothered to look at the older werewolf, it would have been obvious just how precarious a situation he was in. Peter was primed to strike, glacial eyes following every minuscule movement that Scott made. As it was, Scott only had eyes for Stiles.
“True alpha or not, Scott, I’m part of this pack whether you like it or not,” Stiles said as he shut the book he was reading and set it on the coffee table to finally give Scott his full attention. “I may be human but I keep this pack together.”
“You wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for me!” Scott argued.
“And as you so love to point out, you wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for me.” After a moment Stiles added, “and Peter.” Peter’s answering smirk was tinged with regret and pride. “So I guess we’re even. Can we talk about the chupacabra now?”
“No!”
“Come on, Scott, this isn’t the time for this.”
“Though we all knew it was coming,” Isaac added.
Stiles sent a half hearted glare at Isaac but continued, “There are lives at stake here, we can talk about this later, alright?”
“It’s not alright!” Scott said. He pointed a claw tipped finger at Stiles. “This is because you just can’t stand being the Robin to my Batman.”
“Excuse you?” Erica called out with a flip of her hair.
Stiles frowned and said, “That’s a terrible comparison, if anything I would be Lucius Fox or maybe even a combination of Lucius and Pennyworth. Or maybe Lydia would be Pennyworth, she feels more like a Pepper, but then we’re mixing Marvel and DC and that’s--” Stiles cut himself off and then looked at Scott with a raised brow, “Wait, is this about that throw away comment I made outside the school months ago?”
Derek’s head jerked to the side as if he was remembering something and then he also raised a judgemental brow as he looked at the alpha. “I remember that, that was when Peter was still a rogue alpha.”
Stiles turned to look at Derek and he asked, “You heard that? That was before we even got into the school, what were you doing? Just waiting for the perfect time to swoop in?”
Derek scowled and looked down at the papers in his hand which were getting more and more crumpled by the minute. “I was just trying to keep you guys alive.”
“Aww, I can’t believe I used to be scared of you, you’re a big marshmallowy lump.”
“I am glad we’re passed the creeping habit, though,” Lydia said.
“Yes,” Stiles pointed at her in agreement. Derek just rolled his eyes but relaxed further into his chair with a barely visible uptilt to the corner of his mouth.
“Stiles!” Scott growled.
“Yes?” Stiles turned back to Scott with an expectant expression. “That’s me. What can I do for you, besides kill a chupacabra with a water balloon like the genius I am?” Erica snickered and tried to hide it in Boyd’s shoulder.
“Get out, Stiles.”
Several low growls echoed around the room but neither Stiles or Scott paid any mind.
Stiles studied Scott for a long unnerving moment. No one else moved as Stiles slowly stood up to fully face Scott’s towering figure. “No.” Stiles’ voice was calm but it held shades of sadness.
“I said, GET OUT!” Scott bellowed. “This is my pack, not yours!”
Stiles gave a sad smile before he asked quietly, “Are you sure you want to do this, Scotty?”
Scott just snarled and pointed at the door to Derek’s loft.
Stiles sighed and let out a deep breath, but instead of leaving, he straightened his shoulders and raised his chin slightly to look at the boy he used to call brother. They’d all known a day like this would come, but Stiles had been hoping to put it off for a little longer.
“Alpha or not, bud, you’re not gonna win this fight, I’d recommend stopping before--”
Scott growled at a deafening volume and every wolf in the room winced at the sound.
“Come on, Scott. Use your words,” Stiles said.
“Stop telling me what to do!”
“Start acting your age and I will!” Stiles rubbed his hand over his face and then spoke at a normal decibel once again. “Being alpha doesn’t mean that you’re running, what, a monarchy?”
“More like a tyranny,” Lydia sniped.
“You have the red eyes and everything, but we didn’t all suddenly become complacent and willing to listen to you over everything else just because we’re a pack.”
“ We aren’t a pack. You aren’t a wolf. You aren’t a hunter. You have no right to be caught up in all this.”
“I have no right?” Stiles parrotted. “What does that even mean? I’m the reason this pack exists and you’re saying I have no right to be a part of it?”
“If anything, it’s you that hasn’t earned the right, McCall,” Lydia said as she gracefully got to her feet to stand next to Stiles. “
“I am the True Alpha! That alone means I earned it!”
“True alpha or not, man, you’re not fucking Batman.” Stiles looked pained as he said, “Batman may not kill, but he at least does something other than turn a blind eye to everything that inconveniences him. Your ridiculous campaign to alpha without blood is wildly out of step with our situation.”
“Not all of us are so content shrugging off murder!”
Stiles’ body shifted to the side, closer to Lydia. His eyes lost the small degree of warmth they still had and he chuckled under his breath. “I just don’t get it,” Stiles said. Peter moved a little to the side, reacting to Scott’s own small movements closer to Stiles. “You’ve never been the smartest guy or werewolf, but seriously? How can you see what I’m doing as murder but not what you’re doing as just the same.”
“Worse,” Derek coughed out and then attempted to disappear in his chair when Scott looked at him.
“Every time you let a killer go, you’re dooming someone else to die,” Stiles continued.
“This is why I don’t want you here!” Scott shouted. “You say all this stuff like you know better. Like you’re better than me. But it’s you who got us in this stupid thing anyways.”
“I think that was actually me,” Peter intoned drily.
“And he is better than you,” Isaac spoke up from the couch. His voice was as snarky as ever but he was much closer to Jackson than he had been earlier. He visibly flinched when Scott glared at him.
Stiles snapped in Scott’s face for his attention which amusingly worked well. Scott instantly zeroed back in on his ‘best friend’. “I just want to be human. And I’m being humane .”
“I don’t think those words are as connected as you think they are,” Lydia said.
“What part of letting killers loose is humane?” Stiles asked in bafflement. “Or this chupacabra. When a dog gets rabies, you put it down. It’s the same concept here, Scott! You’re like a vet adjacent thing, right? No vet would allow a sick dog to run around and bite people!”
“People aren’t dogs!”
Erica snorted again at that. “Think you should look a little closer at those claws you got,” she said.
“I don’t kill people!”
“We know,” Stiles replied. “Did you know that witch you let go a month ago, she just turned up dead in Oregon. Killed by a hunter.”
“What?!”
“And you know why she was shot full of bullets and burned with holy flames? Because she was siphoning energy off of children. She was stealing years of their lives, and undoubtedly had killed several.” Stiles stepped an inch closer to Scott so they were as close as possible without touching. “You should have had the balls to kill her.”
“You’re lying!”
“Allison?”
Allison sighed and said, “It’s true. My dad went to go help with the clean up and… it wasn’t pretty.”
“I didn’t know that would happen,” Scott rationalized. “She said she would go east and meet up with her old coven. I couldn’t have known!”
“I knew,” Stiles replied flatly.
“And the necromancer last week, or the harpies from two months back,” Lydia added. “Where do you think they’ve gone, Scott? Checked into rehab and starting on a new cleansing diet?”
“I…”
“You’re in over your head,” Stiles finished. “You always have been.”
“But I’m not a killer.”
“You are. Your death count is way higher than mine.”
“That’s conjecture!”
“Ooo, those SAT words are coming out,” Jackson mocked. “Do you even know what that means?”
“I know I’m not a killer ! I give the people on my land the opportunity to become better.”
“This isn’t your land, McCall,” Derek snarled and it was echoed by Peter. “This is Hale land.”
“And it used to not be crawling with mystery creatures of the week,” Peter said. “You know why? Because we got rid of threats when they showed up.”
Stiles held up a hand and everyone but Scott shut their mouth and backed off. Scott was panting and his eyes were glowing a sickening red. Deeper than usual in his anger and a little broken around the edges. “This is all your fault!”
Stiles took a step back and his answer was a little shaky, “Maybe. But we’re still alive and I’m trying my best to keep it that way. And everyone else in Beacon Hills or out of it.”
“I want you out,” Scott insisted. “I want you out of this house, this pack, my life. All you’ve done is ruin things and now you’re...you’re--”
“I hoped it wouldn’t come to this,” Stiles said sadly. “I was willing to work with you, Scott. I was waiting for you to come around, so we could do this whole protectors of Beacon Hills thing right . But you’re not going to change are you? You’re always going to hate me for trying to do the right thing.”
“Because it’s not the right thing!”
“Let’s say the worst case scenario happens, yeah? Let’s say I kill someone who I think is a murderer or a rabid beast, when really they could have changed. It’s still only one person. I mean, by being willing to stop threats I’m saving lives. The number of lives saved will always be greater than the mistakes.”
“Do you even hear yourself?” Scott gaped. “Killing people isn’t a mistake!”
“You’re right. Ignoring killers is though.”
Scott’s face was contorting as the shift started to get the better of him. “You’re insane. You’re not my brother!” His supernaturally toned chest was heaving, similar to his asthma attacks in the past, but so much more dangerous now. “I make the decisions here, Stiles. Why can’t you just trust me?”
“Because you haven’t given me a reason to since you got your werewolf power up.” Stiles scoffed and shook his head. “How can you even ask me that?”
“You’ve changed.” Scott turned to glare at Peter and then Derek. “This is my fault, I let you be influenced too heavily.”
“What the actual fuck, Scott?” Stiles demanded with the first hints of true anger. “So you’ll call me a killer and a waste of space, but you won’t even grant me the responsibility of my own actions? I’m not some pawn. I just have the capability and drive to actually think for myself, unlike you.”
“Shut UP!” Scott bellowed and lunged forward at Stiles, who didn’t even flinch. Peter was there almost before Scott moved. Both of Scott’s wrists held in one hand and the other hand pressed threateningly up against the kid’s stomach. Sharp claws poked at t-shirt covered skin and traced a small line to the side, like a preview of what Peter was willing to do.
“The only good you’ve ever done this lousy pack,” Peter purred softly into McCall’s ear. “Was bringing Stiles with you.”
Everyone was on their feet now, instinctively reacting to the threat of a friend. “Go fuck yourself, McCall,” Jackson sneered.
“You want Stiles to leave?” Isaac asked. “That’s not what’s going to happen here.”
Peter chuckled delightedly and pushed the true alpha back and away from Stiles. Scott struggled to not fall over a chair and then glared at the group in front of him. “I’ve been waiting so long for this,” Peter gloated. His claws sunk back into his fingers and he crossed his arms over his chest. He looked Scott over and clearly didn’t see him as a threat but he did stay between the werewolf and Stiles.
“That’s enough, Peter, we’ve talked about the gloating,” Stiles scolded.
Peter inclined his head slightly and said, “Of course, dear.”
Stiles rolled his eyes but let it go. “Things are going to change, Scott. Right now with this chupacabra and the water balloons of death. You can either work with us or beat it.”
Scott gaped in honest shock. Peter smirked wider and asked, “Are you really that surprised? Even I didn’t think you were that oblivious.”
“You can’t kick me out! I’m the True Alpha!” Scott protested. “Beacon Hills needs an alpha!”
“No,” Derek countered with an uncharacteristic certainty. “It needs a Hale.” Then Derek turned and gave a nod to Stiles, “It has one.”
Something flickered across Peter’s expression quickly but he didn’t open his mouth. He merely shifted a step closer to Derek.
Scott took several angry steps forward but this time Lydia intercepted him. She calmly stepped around Peter, her heels clacking against the wood floor, and stopped a foot away from Scott. “I’ve never particularly liked you Scott.” She placed a manicured hand on her hip and glared. “I thought you were boring, simple, and not worth my time. But that was before I found out I was a banshee, and before I started hearing things. Do you know what sounds follow you around, Scott?”
He mutely shook his head and it would have looked like a kicked puppy if not for the large canines and the red teeth.
“You sound like whispered lies and the drip of blood on tile. Sometimes I can hear the way you talk to them, the people you let leave, and each word is the itch of a scream in my throat.”
“How poetic,” Erica whispered loudly.
Lydia gave her hair an annoyed flip but she maintained her eye contact with Scott. “I never liked you, it’s true, but I had no idea how much harm you could do. Now? I can’t wait for you to fall back into that mediocrity. It’s safer for everyone.”
Scott’s eyes were flickering back to brown, Lydia’s words doing some sort of damage that Stiles’ couldn’t. Then he scowled and bared his teeth. “You can’t have a pack without an alpha.” His teeth baring turned into a smug smile, though they didn’t look much different. “There’s a reason I’m the True Alpha.”
Stiles sighed as Peter chuckled and Lydia rolled her eyes. “Oh, Scott,” Stiles lamented. “You really should read the files I send you.”
“Werewolves need packmates, but they don’t need an alpha,” Boyd said quietly. “Not really, at least.”
“On top of that, this is the 21st century, you jackass,” Jackson said. “You’re not some feudal lord we have to listen to or anything. Even if we did have to have an alpha, we’d figure something else out.”
“So there’s the door,” Peter said conversationally with a point to said door. “I trust you can work it.”
Scott stomped his foot and glared back at Peter. The impact of his shoe with the ground caused several cracks to appear on the floor that Derek watched with a scowl. “I’m not going to let you kill people. Not if I can stop it.” Scott stomped all the way to the door and Derek’s scowl got harsher and harsher.
“I don’t have great faith in your ability to do so,” Peter replied. “So I’m not overly concerned.”
Stiles smacked him in the arm and pushed past him to look at Scott. “We’re willing to work with you, Scott.” The statement was met with several dubious expressions. “But we’re doing things our way now.”
“That’s not working with me,” Scott complained.
“Tell me about it,” Erica snarked.
“Let’s go, Allison,” Scott snarled with another stomp. She made no move to follow him. “Allison?” Those puppy eyes found hers and held.
“I’m a hunter, Scott,” she said.
“But not the bad kind, I know.”
“I don’t know how you get this weird idea of good and bad hunting. I changed my family’s motto, we protect those who can’t protect themselves.”
Scott beamed at her with pride. “I know!”
She sighed and looked at the ceiling. “I don’t think what you’ve been doing is working. I’m a hunter and I will do whatever I have to to protect the people around me.”
“I protect them too!”
“No, you shift the target.” She bit her lip and her fingers curled around nothing as she yearned for a bow to weild. Anything to ground her. “I’m more than willing and capable of removing that target from the picture altogether. It’s the safest way.”
Scott’s face did several interesting things. It scrunched up around his eyes, pulled his mouth in several different directions and flushed a strange color around his neck. “You’re taking his side?!” He demanded with a violent gesture at Stiles. Isaac winced away from the movement but moved closer to Stiles nonetheless.
“I’m making a decision, as the matriarch of the Argent branch, to do my job.” Allison pulled her shoulders back and widened her stance. She looked like a leader at that moment. Eyes flashing and mouth firm as she added, “I’ll protect people the way they need it, not the way you need it.”
Scott snarled and frowned at the same time which made the noise come out muffled and strange. “I can’t believe this…” He glared once again at Stiles, “I can’t believe you! Can’t believe I ever thought of you as a good person or a friend!”
Derek sighed dramatically and stalked over to Scott who barely noticed, too caught up in glaring death at Stiles. The younger Hale shoved Scott the last step out of the loft and then slammed the metal reinforced door shut with a loud clang. There were some indistinguishable sounds from outside but Scott didn’t try to get back in.
“There, done,” Derek stated.
“Done,” Stiles sighed. “That was both harder and easier than I thought it’d be.”
Peter wrapped an arm around Stiles waist and the younger man leaned into the solid support. A small kiss to his temple made Stiles smile.
Lydia cleared her throat and said primly, “I do believe we have a chupacabra to deal with, do we not?”
“Someone has to go get water balloons,” Erica said.
Derek grumbled something that wasn’t words and then opened the door again to disappear out of it.
Stiles beamed. “Thank you, Derek!” he shouted.
Derek shut the door.
Lydia cocked her head to the side. “Again, at least we’re out of the creeping phase. We really should remember how much he’s improved.”
“We could get him a congratulatory trip to the spa,” Jackson suggested.
“Or we could, like, clean the loft for him,” Isaac said more sincerely.
“He can clean his own apartment, Isaac,” Stiles said. “But I do think we should have dinner ready before he gets back. We’ll need to be fueled and ready to go when it comes to chupacabra time.”
“You’re still not going,” Lydia reprimanded.
The group devolved into arguments about take out options and the healing factor of cracked ribs. Voices were raised and insincere threats were made, but the tension of before didn’t return. They were all, largely, on the same page. For the first time since the supernatural returned to Beacon Hills with a vengeance.