SELECT chapter 12 ↵ FROM union all

The Sheriff had taken the day off, so morning was spent cooking for him and Isaac. Stiles blearily made scrambled eggs while listening to his dad talk at Isaac. He answered a couple of Scott's texts and shot a particularly bitchy one off to Talia. She hadn't updated him about where she'd gone or what she'd found at all and it was beginning to piss him off.

Particularly because, if he was correct in thinking that it was the rogue that had bitten Isaac, he'd told her where the damn thing was. And he now had two baby wolves that he was going to have to ferry into the world of shadows, supernat, and superstition. What the hell had she been doing in the last two weeks where another teenager was fucking bitten?

The eggs took their beatings easily enough.

All in all, Stiles was annoyed, pissed off, and exhausted.

He still needed to pull the full story out of Isaac and explain to the kid that he was a particularly furry brand of super nat. Which wasn't a conversation he was looking forward to. In fact, it was one he was actively going to avoid until Scott got there, because Scott was a very Nice Werewolf and maybe that might help Isaac come to terms with who he was.

Maybe.

"Your house hasn't been cleared yet." The Sheriff said, apologetically, "So you'll have to make do with whatever we can grab from Walmart. That ok?"

Isaac nodded. They'd progressed to the point that Stiles didn't have to be in constant contact with him.

They piled into the Jeep and the Sheriff drove them to Walmart. Wholly uneventful and extremely at odds with the high stress situation of the night before. Isaac and the Sheriff didn't seem to care about clothes, so once again it was up to Stiles to grab the right sizes and enough of each.

He winced at the amount that rang up, knowing that his dad might be feeling it before the next pay period hit. Maybe he'd quietly grab the next round of groceries.

He tried not to notice how Isaac wrinkled his nose at the bags of new clothes and hoped that he wouldn't have to start locking his clothes away to avoid the thieving fingers of the baby wolf.

The rest of the day was spent quietly, the CPS guy stopped by and went through a mountain of paperwork since technically this was an emergency placement. The man was a frazzled sort, with an ill fitting black blazer that had found its way to the back of the kitchen chair. He had doughy features and a thin voice, but all in all, a decent sort.

When the CPS guy Kevin had left, the quiet of the day had spread through the house. It left his dad watching TV and left Isaac following him around like a baby bird. He could see that the Sheriff wanted to comment on it, but restrained due to the circumstances. When Scott finally showed up, his mom dropping him off, it was a heaven sent distraction.

Not to mention it calmed Isaac even more.

Thank god for Scott. Good, easy going, kind Scott.

Who'd taken one sniff of poor ol' Isaac and smiled.

"Thanks for the homework." Stiles said, tossing back over his shoulder as he led the way up to his room. They didn't often hang out at his place, he normally chose to go to Scott's instead. So it felt weird having people in his room. In his space.

Not bad.

Maybe.

"No problem." He could hear the smile in Scott's voice. "Harris got fired, by the way."

Stiles snorted. "Fucking finally."

"Yea, apparently more students came forward and spoke out about his treatment of them." Scott's voice was distracted as Stiles opened his room. "It smells like you."

"No shit Scott." Stiles waved a hand to encompass the whole room. "I live here."

"Yea, but." Scott inhaled deeply. "It's different. Like. You smell like you but there are things that are overlays, like a melody over a bass note or something."

"I smell like a song?"

"Kinda, but here, instead of the melody changing it's like a sweetness. Like a constant thrum, or something." Scott sighed. Stiles eyed him and noticed Isaac staring at Scott with a look of shock.

"Oh, shit. Right." Stiles mumbled, "Grab the door."

When the door was shut he turned to Isaac. "Now, uh. Isaac. Meet Scott." Stiles gestured to Scott. "Fellow classmate, and uh, fellow werewolf. Which, by the way, surprise! You're a wolf!"

Silence stretched.

"Wow. Way to rip off the bandaid." Scott said, finally breaking the silence. "Let me tell you what happened to me."

With a slow, easy, voice Scott went through what had happened back at Beacon Hills Campground. How Stiles had carried him out and then taken him to Talia. How he'd been able to shift and smell and hear things. Every once in a while, Stiles would interject with an explanation. Scott tried to explain what Talia had told him, but was butchering it so badly that Stiles had to take over.

Between the two of them they covered everything. From the wolfy anchoring, to the new scents he was smelling. Scott even shifted back and forth a few times, his control getting even better. The first time, Isaac had flinched back in fear. An obvious reaction that had Scott feeling absolutely terrible.

But then Isaac had reached out a single finger and poked Scott's face.

Which. Really turned things around. Stiles felt as if he was intruding on something personal and deep. So he remained quiet as Isaac walked long fingers over Scott's face and head. He still shook with fear, and the whites of his eyes were still showing, but at least he was trying.

At least.

"Isaac." Stiles interrupted the touching moment. There was only so much he could stand. They were on his bed for god's-sakes. "We need to know what happened."

"You don't have to speak if you don't want to." Scott rushed to say, casting a glare at Stiles. Who rolled his eyes and dug for a tiny netbook that he had shoved in a desk drawer. It wasn't useful for much and didn't have anything incriminating on it.

"Here, type it up at least." Stiles said, passing the net book over. "Password is going to be lacrosseboner6969, all lower case."

Isaac's horrified look made Stiles chuckle. "If you're scandalized by that, wait until you realize you can smell when someone is horny. Scott's first day when our whole class came back from the camping trip was hell."

Scott shuddered at the memory. "It was so bad. We're in school!"

"Hormones and boners galore." Stiles said, shrugging. "Anyway, go ahead, take your time."

With that he left Isaac to whatever it is he wanted to type. He tossed Scott his extra controller and they settled into a mindless racing game. Neither of them were very invested, but it was a simple way of giving Isaac his space without leaving the room.

An hour later, the netbook was handed back.

The story that spilled out onto the screen was, objectively, horrifying. Even with the emotional separation of reading it instead of hearing it. Isaac had run from his home when his father had attempted to shove him into the freezer in the basement. A punishment that was meted out often, it seemed.

In the flight from his home, on the road that Stiles and his father had found him on, he'd been attacked by the rogue and mauled. The cruiser had startled the beast and caused it to run off before finishing whatever it was doing.

Then, when he was discharged from the hospital and taken home, the alpha had used the pack bond to force Isaac to open the doors and let them in. The alpha had bitten his brother, but the bite hadn't taken as it had with Isaac. In a fit of rage, the alpha had torn Matt asunder.

The visual of his brother dying had ripped Isaac from the alpha enforced daze and he'd managed to flee. All because his father had locks on the doors to keep people in. Then he 'woke up' at Stiles' house. The gaps in his memory showing how close he was to turning completely feral.

Stiles sat chilled as he re read the recounting, memorizing it in its entirety, before deleting and powering the netbook off entirely. Scott was seething next to him, hands clenching. Both silently processing, just as Isaac was silently watching.

Stiles stood up, hunted through his dirty laundry and tossed a hoodie at Isaac. Before slipping into an over shirt and grabbing his keys. Frissons of anger sparked along his hands. He steadied himself on a shallow breath.

"Good job, Isaac." He said, voice light. "I have to go do something, Scott, do you mind hanging out? Isaac, sorry man. But I'm gonna have to leave. Scott will stay here until I get back. Remember, password for the computer and games is going to be lacrosseboner6969." Before either boy could say something, Stiles slipped out and closed the bedroom door. He jogged down the hall, down the stairs.

"Hey dad!" Stiles smiled brightly. "I'm gonna run to the store and grab some snacks, Scott and Isaac are upstairs playing games."

"Sure, grab me something too." His dad called as Stiles stepped into his sneakers.

"Mmmm, celery!" Stiles shouted before closing the door and jogging down the steps.

He kept the bland smile on his face until he backed out of his driveway and pointed his Jeep towards the Hale house. Then the fury he'd felt that morning pulled him under. The anger at Talia, at himself. At the situation. A riptide that tossed him about mercilessly in its waves.

He got it somewhat under control by the time he hit the driveway.

He didn't know if she was there. Didn't know who'd be there at this point in the day. All he knew was that he was pissed and angry and there was one person he could focus on. His sternum boiled hot and he followed it on instinct, too keyed up to second guess what was guiding him or what it was.

The keypad that kept the Hale house locked to outsiders was a simple thing to bypass, the numbers long ago being etched into his memory. He opened the huge monstrosity of a front door and strode in, following that niggling sensation as it directed him through the main room and past the kitchen. Down a smaller corridor to a door that stood partially cracked.

Without pausing, because if he stopped now he'd probably chicken out, he shoved the door open and stared directly into the eyes of Talia Hale.

"The fucking rogue is trying to build a pack, Alpha Hale." He spat the title between them. "It attacked Isaac yesterday afternoon and bit him. That's when he was changed. Then it forced the pack bond onto him and tried to change Isaac's brother."

Talia looked at him and he continued, righteous fury pouring off of his body. "Wh-"

"Mind fucking telling me what you've been doing these last two weeks Alpha Hale." He spat the title again, interrupting her with vitriol. A scraping noise almost pulled his attention away, but he didn't back down. A full challenge to Talia. He was standing, she was sitting. He was blocking an exit, and was on her territory.

"I-I didn't know." She said softly, a direct contrast to his fire and brimstone. Her eyes were clear hazel, though. Stiles barked a single laugh.

"Didn't know?" Stiles strode forward and bent over the desk. "I told you where it was! I kept telling you when it moved, and you're telling me you didn't know?"

Talia finally closed her eyes, shallow breaths through slightly parted lips.

Winning, tasted like blood to Stiles. He stood straight, crossing his arms as he, too, closed his eyes and tipped his head back. He took a deep breath filled with the smell of the Hale house and spoke in a coldly calm voice.

"Ok." Another breath. "Your ignorance and lack of action has cost one life." Stiles felt a rumble in the room but ignored it. Dropped his head forward and stared at Talia fully. "What can I do to help?"

Talia's face showed shock, confusion, then it went blank and she nodded.

"I need to know how you tracked it." She said finally, standing. She was taller than him. "There is something preventing us from finding it, its trails are old or its dens wiped clean. I didn't think it was in Beacon Hills anymore."

Stiles nodded a bright point of understanding shooting into his mind.

"Ok. I can do that." He stared at her. "But you trust me. From here on out, you had better fucking trust me, Talia."

She looked away. Another win for him, but she simply scented the air once before looking back in his eyes. He couldn't pussyfoot around this, couldn't be concerned with upsetting her or the rest of the Hale Pack. She needed to trust him so he could be effective and not second guess himself. He waited.

"I can try." Her words were soft, strained, and almost broken. He saw the weight of them as they silently thought over what had been said. The agreement he'd wrought. The silence stretched between them before a throat cleared.

"I thought the front door had a pass code on it." Someone said, they were behind Stiles and he'd have to turn to face them. Prickles walked up his spine. He hadn't paid any attention to the people in the room, the sole focus of his fury had been Talia. There were a few ways he could play this. But it all depended on who asked that particular question and if Stiles could deflect appropriately.

Stiles needed his secrets. They made him feel safe because it helped him protect the ones he cared about. They were his armor when he wanted to hide, they were his weapons. If Talia thought too hard about why he might know the code to the keypad and wanted to question him about this, it would fucking suck.

So, Stiles plastered a grin on his face and ignored the ripple of nerves that spilled over his back, his skin felt as if someone was observing it under a microscope. He was prepared to lie through his teeth to get out of this one.

A warbled voice broke the tension.

"Tiles?" It was as if someone had plucked the stopper from the room, instantly all the murderous tension drained out in one fell swoop. "Tiles!"

"Oh shit." Stiles muttered, bracing his hand on the desk seconds before Isaiah full body slammed the backs of his legs. Someone needed to teach the kid manners, holy fuck. "Hey, Riolu."

A snort from the room at large, but Stiles didn't have time to look for who it was. Isaiah was trying to climb him, fat tears spilled down their cheeks. On a sigh, Stiles turned and picked the pup up, letting them nestle into his neck, just like Isaac had.

"Mind telling me what just happened?" A quiet voice broke the silent mood. Stiles finally had a chance to look around. And almost shat himself.

Peter, Laura, and Derek all stood at various points in the room. Stiles kissed the side of Isaiah's head absently, the pup was still whimpering and weeping, as he looked back at Talia. "Didn't realize you brought in the calvary."

Stiles was quietly freaking. He hadn't had a chance to check in with the bots, the last thing he knew about was the email sent from Laura. Which, although glorious, hadn't said anything about flight plans. If they only had one layover in LAX or SFO, then it was an 8 hour flight. Another hour and a half to get here. Meant they had left that morning.

Talia arched a single brow. "Are you questioning why? Or are you going to answer Laura or Peter?"

"Nope. No questions. Who needs questions." Stiles said, running one hand up Isaiah's back trying to get the kid to settle. Before asking, "Glad to see you guys made it back safely, was the stop in LAX or SFO?."

"LAX," Peter said, eyes light and dancing. "And now it very much is a pleasure to be back."

"Mmm, I'm sure. You do go to the oddest places for pleasure." Stiles said absently, looking down at Isaiah, worried that the pup hadn't spoken up yet, before turning to Talia. "We can meet about this after you're done with whatever this kumbaiya moment is. Don't worry about the front door, you don't have a security breach. Anymore. So I'm just gonna take the little one and vamoose."

"No one's going to explain?" Laura said, face tight still as she glared daggers at him.

"Not I," said Stiles, taking his excuse to leave and booking it out the door. He made it to the main room before pausing and looking down at the still weeping child.

Star was already puttering about in the kitchen, starting dinner it seemed. A few of the older kids watched him as they ate their after school snacks. It seemed they had just gotten home.

"Hey, what's with the tears." Stiles said softly, leaning the pup away some so he could look down in their face. Trying to be gentle and quiet, keeping the kid away from the prying eyes of their siblings. Isaiah resolutely ignored him and clung closer. "Isaiah, pup, what's wrong?"

Stiles spied an oversized couch that was conveniently placed nearby. He checked the time on his phone, he didn't have much if he wanted to stop by a real store. But the broken noises coming from the pup needed to be addressed first. It was a comfy looking couch.

The warmth pooling in his chest ran in thick drips down his arms and into his fingers. Stiles collapsed against the plush, overstuffed, cushions and repositioned the kid til they were settled against the hollow of his throat. With a great sigh he texted Scott and let him know that he was caught up, and sorry for leaving without notice.

A couple more pack members filtered in to help Star with cooking, Bruno and Felicia. The domestic noises and conversations floated out to where Stiles was sitting as they were left alone in the living room. At one point Farah dropped a glass of water by his elbow on the end table and scurried off before he could say anything.

He kept a petting hand on the pup as he and Scott bickered back and forth. Stiles had a strict rule, no wolf business in text messages. If it was required, then only spoken in round about ways. Scott was grumbling back at him for leaving without saying anything, requesting mountains of Oreos.

Soon the pup's breathing was even, comforted by both Stiles and the sounds of the pack around them. He tucked the phone against his leg and shifted slightly to look down.

"Come on little Whimsur," Stiles murmured softly. "What's got you upset?"

"I'm sorry." Isaiah said, tucking their head in tighter to Stiles. "I didn't mean to make you mad."

Stiles blinked at that and thought back to the Weekend Hale Barbecue. Shit.

"Nope." Stiles sighed, dropping his head against the back of the couch. "Cubone, it wasn't you that needed to apologize. I'm sorry, you didn't do anything wrong."

"Then why didn't you come back?"

Stiles covered his face with one hand, tipped his head back, and wanted to scream. How do you explain to a pup that their Alpha didn't trust him? He chewed on his lips as he tried to think of a good explanation.

"Because." He started haltingly, "Because, little pup, I didn't think I was welcome. So I didn't come." It was slicing dangerously close to the truth.

"Oh." Isaiah fisted their hands in his shirt. "I want you here."

"I'm getting that." Stiles said, voice wry, rubbing absently at his eyelids.

"This is touching." Peter's voice drifted over them from where he emerged from the hallway that led to Talia's office. Stiles flipped him off without much heat, dropping his hand back to his face.

"I quake to think of what touches you, Peter." Stiles said dryly.

"I do wonder how much you think of me that you even consider that." Peter's voice was closer, and Stiles could finally hear the faint brushing of his finely made dress pants. "Especially since I haven't had the chance to even know who you are."

"He's Tiles." Isaiah said, petulantly.

"You heard the boss." Stiles said, letting his arm slide so his elbow was hooked over his eyes, blocking out the light. And, more importantly, Peter. He was tired. "I'm Tiles."

"He's Sheriff Stilinski's son." Talia's voice said, smoothly entering the conversation.

"Oh?" Peter remarked. Stiles snorted, mimicking Peter's well defined, "Oh?" perfectly.

"He appeared on my doorstep two weeks ago." Talia continued, voice wry and oddly fond.

"I didn't know we were taking in strays." Peter said, voice all bright and happy. It made Stiles want to gag. The man wanted to play with words and Stiles was so very tired.

"Didn't you see the SPCA sign down the road?" Stiles grumbled, Isaiah was a warm weight against him and the couch was so comfortable. The heat that had been pooling in his chest sank into his bones. "It's literally half a mile from the entrance to your driveway. It's not my fault I got lost dropping one off."

"Your faucet doesn't smell broken." Isaiah interrupted quietly, rooting his nose against Stiles' skin. Stiles lifted his arm and blinked down at the pup.

"I'm glad that my bouquet is pleasing to you my liege." Stiles said.

"What's bouquet?" Isaiah blinked back, finally sitting up. "What's liege?"

"Bouquet comes from the old french bos meaning clump of trees. It came to mean a bunch, or arrangement of flowers in the mid 19th century." Stiles replied, rubbing at his eyes. "Soon after, it came to mean the scent of the flowers and was used to describe the smells of something."

"Oh." Isaiah nodded along. "What's liege, though?"

"Mm, that has roots in the latin word laeticus , though there are various versions of it sprinkled throughout the French and Germanic languages. It has come to mean a feudal superior." Peter's explanation broke in before Stiles could answer and Isaiah's head swung to look at their uncle. "Stiles said that he was glad you thought he smelled pretty, and then referred to you as his superior."

"Ya know." Stiles said dryly, looking back over the couch. "It really takes the punch out of punchline when you explain the joke."

"Oh, I thought jokes were supposed to be funny." Peter's eyes were practically dancing.

"Mmm, see. That's the problem." Stiles nodded sagely. "You 'thought'. It's better if you leave the thinking to the professionals."

Before Peter could open his mouth to keep up the banter, Isaiah spoke up. "Are you coming back?"

Silence answered their question.

"Victini, I'm not the one who can answer that." Stiles sighed, setting them to one side before standing and turning to Talia who'd been quiet, leaning against the counter in the kitchen. Surrounded by her pack. Watching him. "So, my favorite cult leader. Your follower has asked you that is most on high, a question"

Stiles ignored the choked off laugh that came from Peter.

"Stiles," Talia sighed, resignedly. Closing her eyes. "Yes, Isaiah. Stiles is coming back."

"Coolionimbus." Stiles said looking down at Isaiah. "See? I'm can come back. I'm not mad at you."

Isaiah's brow furrowed. Stiles thought back to Isaac and his sternum thrummed. Without second guessing himself, he shrugged out of his over shirt and draped it around Isaiah's shoulders.

"You can keep this." Stiles said, smiling softly at the pup. "I'll have to come back to you to get it, so you'll know that you'll see me again. Sound good?"

"What if I don't want you to go?" Peter said, "Will you give me the shirt off your back, too?"

"Peter." Talia's voice was a warning.

"Yes. Peter." Stiles smiled sweetly up at the older man. "Please, tell me more about how you're trying to flirt with someone who's underaged. Please, go on. Tell me about how well that sort of thing worked out for your family last time." Stiles watched as the humor fell from Peter's face, felt the tension in the room ratchet higher.

"I'm gonna head out now, see you Shaymin." Stiles said to Isaiah, ignoring the pup's comments on his faucet. Peter's attention had made his nerves and anxiety ratchet up.

With that, Stiles walked out of the Hale house.

He felt worlds better.

"Nice to see dear old Mum has picked up a stray." Stiles looked over to find Laura lurking. Lurking Laura. He didn't want to deal with this. Stiles did the big blow up, talked to Talia, even got a begrudging kind of peace between them. He didn't want to whip out his dick against Laura's and measure to see whose was larger.

Stiles stopped. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes.

"Laura." He said softly, letting the exhaustion seep into his voice. Anything to get out of this particular conversation. "Consider me suitably frightened and chastised about approaching your family while you were gone. In my defense, you were the one to leave them. Can I go home now? I have a pair of baby wolves to feed."

Instead of waiting on a reply, Stiles opened his eyes and walked to his Jeep. He crawled into the cab, turned it on, and by the time he backed out, Lurking Laura had vanished. There were lines he couldn't let them cross, intimidating him was one. Trying to make him uncomfortable was another. He'd watched Laura and Peter for long enough that he had some semblance of an idea of who they were.

Stiles drove to the grocery store and piled the cart high. Then drove home.

He made Scott and Isaac carry the groceries in, fielding his dad's questions of where he'd been. The sheer mountain of food caused other questions, but Stiles brushed past it by shoveling food into everyone's mouths.

Can't ask questions if your mouth is full.