Reading Time:
18 Minutes
"So…" Tony took a deep and thankfully pain free breath, his voice carefully flat. "… werewolves."
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“So…” Tony took a deep and thankfully pain free breath, his voice carefully flat. “… werewolves.”
Derek nodded sharply, shoulders hunched. For a grown man, he looked small and contrite like a kid in the principal’s office. “Yes, Sir.”
Tony hummed thoughtfully. “Full moon, running in packs, fierce body hair, silver bullets and all?”
“Yes to the first few…” Derek’s mouth twisted ruefully. “Silver is more symbolic though. It’s more wolfsbane bullets that put us down.”
“Good to know.” Tony hummed, his mind racing to process the facts he’d just been told. “Thank you for telling me, Derek.”
The younger man ducked his head with an adorable blush. Geez, they were all so young and bit broken around here, weren’t they? When did he become the guy whose heartstrings got tugged by wounded strays? Guess the same guy who cried more in the last week at becoming a dad than in the past year of life’s usual bullshit.
Sigh.
“Okay…” Tony’s eyes flickered to Stiles who was staring back unblinkingly, his lithe frame taut as if he was ready to fling himself into the tree line at one sign of fear or anger from his father. And that was something Tony was not going to allow. He took another breath, keeping his face open and understanding, showing none of his stress, “…okay.”
Derek had patiently gone through the ‘beta shift’ a couple of times for Tony’s sake and sanity, letting the older man stare at his forehead ridges, odd lack of eyebrows, fangs, claws and neon blue eyes without a word while Stiles shifted from foot to foot nearby like a spider on a hot plate.
The born wolf had then given a brief breakdown of the unique Hale family history and werewolf biology as Tony asked short but pointed questions with Stiles piping up with odd but insightful and knowledgeable facts like a werewolf flavoured Snapple cap.
He held up a hand to the younger wolf when his ramble of words grew awkward and started to venture into some of his recent lycanthropic shenanigans, making Derek go silent. All that could wait for later. Tony was still trying to wrap his mind around werewolves being real and what that meant for him, his new family, his life and the world view as a whole. It was too much to chew on… (heh) for now.
He turned to look at his son once more, his thoughts in a whirlwind but the wary and fragile expression on Stiles’ face stopped that whirlwind cold, ruthlessly cutting down the gibbering idiot in his brain. His first priority was always to the boy and, as much as he wanted run around the creepy woods cussing and shouting about WEREWOLVES ARE FUCKING REAL OMG WHAT ELSE IS REAL?; he knew that the teen was probably freaking out just as much as he was, if not more.
He was 100% sure that Stiles had no intention of telling Tony about the whole supernatural side of his personal life anytime soon, and that this had probably been an unwelcome surprise for them all, Derek included. This was an all-new mine field to navigate and he was glad that he could now, at least, have more informed conversations with Noah. It would have been awful trying to navigate this new world on his own.
He held out his arms to Stiles. In that moment, all he wanted was a hug and the teen probably felt the same. The boy let out a choked sob and smashed into his dad’s arms, his thin form shaking as he hugged him back just as tight. Tony pressed a kiss to the crown of his boy’s head and let himself breathe.
Think. Act. Move. Survive. Prioritize, Agent DiNozzo. Stiles first. Werewolves later.
He glanced at Derek over Stiles’ head. The younger man looked two seconds away from bolting into the tree line himself. Tony gave a soft sigh. “Get in the car, Derek.”
The werewolf looked shocked, hazel eyes going wide. “Uh…what?”
“Get in the Rover. We’re going for lunch.” Tony pursed his lips and gestured with his head before looking around. “…unless you drove here then go get your car and follow us to the diner.”
Derek gave him a sheepish look, shrugging his muscular shoulders “I…uh… ran here.”
“You… ran… of course.” Tony huffed under his breath, ignoring Stiles soft snort against his neck. “Get in the car. This calls for big juicy Reindeer Burgers and curly fries.”
“What’s with you and reindeer meat?” Stiles made a face as he pulled away but not far enough to step out of the hug. Tony just grinned and tugged the boy towards the SUV, hearing Derek crunching closer behind them.
“What can I say? They were rude as fuck to Rudolf and wouldn’t let him play in their reindeer games. Kid me carries a grudge forever.”
That had Stiles laughing so hard that he nearly tripped into the SUV, only Derek’s quick hands keeping him from braining himself on the centre console. Tony just grinned and hopped into the driver’s seat, in a much better place mentally and emotionally.
He could handle this… with a little time and access to proper information and resources; he’d be able to take this all in stride and make it work. This was a big part of Stiles and Noah’s lives and Tony would be damned if he didn’t try his best to fit right in. for his families’ sake as well as his own. This was his life now and he’d live it to the fullest.
Lion’s and Tigers and Werewolves and all.
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Derek had the Diner’s Famous ‘Breakfast for Dinner’ Platter, and as the werewolf worked his way through the meal at a steady clip; Tony absently wondered if the platter was some kind of internet famous challenge, because the food was probably enough to feed a husky family of four. Neither Stiles nor the lovely Judith seemed surprised at the order though a couple of the other patrons sent curious glances.
Still, Derek’s metabolism must be stuck on Runaway Freight Train Speed if he ate like that all the time and Tony made a mental note that he’d have to up the grocery budget up a lot if the young man was going to be hanging around the Stilinskis long enough to be regularly fed and watered.
And considering the third degree Stiles was subjecting him to as he made quick work of a portion of loaded curly fries and a milkshake; Tony was probably going to be seeing much more of the younger man in the near future. He observed them quietly as he worked his way through a juicy reindeer burger with a side of delicious and hearty Greek salad with roasted tomatoes, cucumbers, arugula and feta cheese. The dish wasn’t the usual Diner Fare but since this was Beacon Hills… the town that made no fucking sense… he just let it go and munched on.
He’d learned to pick his battles a long time ago. He wasn’t going to stop now.
Stiles, on the other hand, was stabbing his loaded fries like he was spearfishing and shoving butchered potato, bacon bits and melted cheese into his mouth even as he tried to interrogate his growly friend. How was Cora? Was she settling back in with the Gajos Pack in South America? When did Derek roll back into town? Where was he staying? Not at the old Train Station again, right? What? Peter had taken over the studio apartment? Then that was a no thanks to staying there then. Had Derek seen Peter? Yes, Uncle Creeper was still skulking around. They had seen him at Trader Joes. Did Derek have enough money to stay wherever he was staying? Didn’t Peter share what was in the supersecret family vault? No? Rude. Don’t worry, they had a pull out bed in the couch at home. It was probably for the best if Derek came and stayed with them so he didn’t revert to a hobo living at the old station. God forbid he was squatting back up at the old ruins… that place was a death trap if not a source of night terrors and PTSD for all that happened there. No? Good.
Derek seemed to follow along Stiles rapid fire questions well enough, which spoke of long practice; nodding, grunting and giving one word or two word answers from which Stiles seemed to glean information like a full monologue. Tony kept his mouth busy with eating, quietly tucking away small clues this son dropped carelessly, seeming to forget completely that Tony was sitting just feet away. He glanced around the other booths but no one nearby seemed to care about the casual mentions of Packs, secret family vaults and traumatizing old houses. It was probably some kind of version of SunnyDaze… or maybe there was something in the water.
Or maybe the nice folks of Beacon Hills had been through too much shit in the past few years to give two rat fucks about random teenage conversation. It was something worth looking into.
They wrapped up the meal, Tony waving away Derek’s offer to pay. “I invited you, kid. I got the bill.”
Derek’s eye brows danced at the “kid” comment and Stiles hid a chuckle behind his hand.
“It’s fine, sour wolf. You can definitely get the next one. Not all of us have secret family vaults squirreled away throughout the county.”
Tony watched them around each other. Stiles was relaxed, comfortable in Derek’s close proximity. They worked around each other, Derek’s careful grace working around Stiles flailing and gangly physicality. The dynamic between them was interesting and revealing at the same time. Snarks and snipes, inside jokes and references that could only come from people who known each other for a long time and gone through a lot together. Stiles teased and taunted responses out of the older man while Derek was patient and snarky in turn, keeping the teen’s manic energy controlled.
Stiles trusted Derek.
And he trusted himself with Derek.
Oh.
Tony took a sharp inhale at the revelation, pulling a curious look from Derek, eyes bright and alert before Stiles distracted him once more. Tony breathed through the epiphany, doing his counting exercises to keep himself calm as he turned that little gem over and over in his mind. Ok… Derek was now part of the puzzle that was Stiles and someone to be kept close and looked after. Roger.
It was only when they’d pulled into the driveway that Stiles seemed to realize that he’d invited Derek to stay at the house as a guest without informing Noah and his face went a bit green as he faltered across the threshold. It was a sharp contrast to the commanding and self-assured young man Tony had seen earlier and it made him sad that Stiles had fallen into the role so easily.
It spoke of long practice… of Stiles having to take charge and make decisions because there was no adult around he could rely on to handle things… of Stiles having to raise himself for so long that his first instinct wasn’t to look for help anymore. Tony knew that instinct intimately and it boggled him that the teen still had that lived experience with how much his parents both loved him. With how much Noah loved him.
Tony gently squeezed the back of his neck in comfort, guiding him into the house with Derek in tow. “I’m sure Noah won’t mind Derek crashing on the living room pull out for a few days, Mimmo.” he shook the boy gently, “Seeing as I’ll be taking the guest room for the next week as they finish up with the house.”
Stiles’ head whipped to stare at him. “You’re staying here too?”
“Yeah… you’re Dad invited me as my booking at the Marriott will be ended soon and it didn’t make sense to renew since the house would be ready soon anyway.” Tony nodded and tilted his head. “Is that ok with you? We didn’t exactly ask your opinion…”
“That’s great!” Stiles all but shouted, bouncing on his toes as his face lit up. “It’ll be good to have a full house for a while.”
And that settled that, apparently. Though Tony still texted Noah about the situation and promised beers on the back parch later for a much needed conversation because you know…WERWOLVES! Noah bandied back with grilled meat on the bar-b-que to go with the beer and Tony chuckled as he agreed.
He sent Derek off to get his duffle bag from wherever he had been squatting, apparently, and shooed stiles off to secure linens and make a list of stuff they’d need for hosting guests. He kept the teen busy, sensing that Stiles was once more hiding behind smiling mask, not so subtly avoiding any deeper conversation into the whole werewolves exist situation… the minor break down at the house and probably, especially the freak storm clouds that had gathered then scattered just as fast during his crying jag.
Tony was pretty sure that werewolves didn’t control the weather. Not from Derek’s explanation.
So that meant something else had made the instant storm cover.
… someone else had made that instant storm cover.
Yeah… ok, Tony… breathe. Keep breathing. In for four… hold for four… out for four. Again.
Think. Act. Move. Survive.
Wait for the conversation with Noah later. Hold it together. You’re the grown up here.
Keep calm and carry on and all that jazz.
The three of them made another grocery run, this time to the kwik-i-mart as Tony wanted to see how ‘the other side lived’. Stiles took charge, pushing the cart up and down the aisles as he plucked items off shelves without even looking at them; running commentary about products comparisons, the best times for sales and different places to get the things he needed for the best price as he managed the house budget since he was nine and tried to keep himself and his dad well fed and healthy on a sheriff’s salary.
Tony listened carefully, taking careful note of the hints the teen dropped and already planning his eventual conversation with Noah about finances. It probably wouldn’t be an easy one but he had seventeen years to make up for and he didn’t want to see both Stilinski men buried under with weight of debt if he was in the position to help. He’d just have to come at the matter carefully and with all his of ducks in a row.
Tony had another night at the hotel so he’d be moving in the next day but they still got the guest room squared away. They aired out the pull out bed and washed all the linens. Derek set up his toiletries in the downstairs half bath and went upstairs with Stiles to shower and change while Tony marinated the steaks for grilling.
Noah came home to a noisy house, smiling warmly as he watched Stiles and Derek squabbling over the prep for various sides while Tony stoked the fire in the grill. Dinner was delicious as always, Honey Chipotle skirt steaks with fire roasted vegetable skewers, grilled seasoned corn smothered in creamy eloté sauce with charred tortillas and, for desert, thick fire grilled pineapple slices caramelized with brown sugar, cinnamon and sea salt with a scoop of coconut ice cream.
They talked about the house renovation timeline and what Derek had been up to since he rolled back into town. Stiles flailed and suggested that Derek apply to be a sheriff’s deputy and Noah backed him up easily, making his own case for recruitment.
“You know the Preserve better than anyone and a little extra strength and speed can’t hurt in case we need it.”
There was a beat of silence after that, each of the three Hills’ natives lost in their own thoughts… their own losses. Derek, blushing and ducking his head, agreed to stop by the Sheriff’s office to apply between looking for an apartment of his own. Seeing Stiles and Noah give the young wolf twin wide smiles made Tony grin behind his glass at how red Derek blushed as he sputtered.
Glad to see Tony wasn’t the only one who went stupid over that Stilinski charm.
After that they discussed the Scott Matter with Derek volunteering to go keep an eye on the situation in the interim. Noah still had to go see Deaton about the whole thing as Melissa was understandably upset at her son’s worsening behaviour but was loathe to call in help from the nearest Pack… Alpha’d by Satomi Ito on the other side of Beacon Falls. Calling in the Ito Pack apparently meant that Scott would either have to let some of her pack members join his pack to stabilize his alpha power or he’d have to go to her territory for the same. Something Stiles didn’t see as happening easily.
It was an awful situation all around, it seemed, as Scott was going something called Omega apparently because the pack bonds he usually pulled on to stay sane had weakened and withered until he was adrift, both mentally and with his wolf. With his anchor… Allison dead, Isaac gone abroad, Derek and Cora already on the outer edges, Peter not trusted enough, Jackson in England… there only been Lydia, Stiles and Deaton. And with Stiles traumatized and unstable himself and Lydia closing in on herself; the only influence left in Scott’s life had been his boss and apparent local Druid (deep breath Tony, deep breath) Alan Deaton.
The man was ‘creepy as fuck’ according to Stiles, confirmed with a solemn nod from Derek; and cryptic to an insanely triggering degree. That just seemed to make the red tags Tony had mentally placed on the seemingly harmless Veterinarian even bigger and brighter red. They were practically neon and Tony hadn’t even met the man in person yet.
They would just have to keep a close watch on the so called True Alpha and act before he lost his ever loving mind. Apparently Alpha wounds take longer to heal and Tony wanted neither Stiles nor Derek near any of that bullshit anytime soon. He’d have to make a call to Ian about getting a dart gun and a tranquilizer strong enough to put an enraged Wolf Alpha to sleep. He still had his conceal carry license and a custom fitted holster.
As Derek and Stiles piled into the kitchen to wash dishes, talking and laughing and shoving each other playfully, Tony and Noah settled into a pair of Adirondack chairs on the creaky back patio with a small plastic bucket of beers on ice between them.
“So… Werewolves, huh?”
“Yeah..” Noah all but melted into the chair, twisting open one of the beers. “Knocked me back the first time too. As I was in the middle of being kidnapped by a Darach for a death ritual and all…” He chuckled at Tony’s slacked jawed surprise. “I’ll tell you that doozie another time. We definitely don’t have enough beer for that one tonight.”
Tony manfully picked up his jaw and nodded, inhaling slowly as he blinked up at the evening sky.
“I’ve only known about the whole werewolf thing for half a day and I’m already terrified for them.” Tony said raggedly after taking a long drag from his beer. “I suddenly feel the need to buy a whole lotta fucking guns.”
Noah barked a harsh laugh. “I would have recommended Chris Argent as the man had an arsenal that made Burt Gummer from Tremors look like a weekend hobbyist. Too bad the man went back to France after practically his whole family died in one way or the other in this fucking place.”
He shrugged and drained his beer, “But considering most of his family was made up of fucking psychos, I won’t begrudge the man not wanting to show his face around town anymore. Still, he was a good one to sit and have a conversation with about what it was like being a parent to a pack member. Melissa doesn’t like thinking about it and most of the others are not in the know. Wasn’t really anyone else I could talk to about the fine line between trying to protect your kid in the big bad supernatural world and keeping them wrapped in bubble wrap in their room.”
Noah took another beer and twisted it open, taking a heavy swig as he gazed out into the distant tree line. Tony kept a close eye on his alcohol intake, Stiles had told him back in DC about how badly Noah had initially dealt in the aftermath of Claudia’s death. That’s why Tony had only bought a half dozen of a local IPA with a low alcohol content but deep flavour.
“Guy was still a condescending asshole …” Noah muttered bitterly, “… though he wasn’t as bad as the rest of those hunter bastards. Being the black sheep of the Argent Family was easy … just be a decent human being and you’re most of the way there already.”
The older man huffed, some memory seeming to darken his expression. “Still a dick though.”
Tony kept silent and attentive as Noah drained his bottle and gave a deep sigh.
“We had beer a couple of times at his house. Better than an official convo at the station. They were Hunters… with a capital H like the hunters of old. The legend of silver killing werewolves came from the translation of their family name. But somewhere along the way they so called sacred code went from “We Hunt those who Hunt Us” to “We Do what we Want… Code be Damned.”
Noah’s lip curled in disgust. “The whole clan was bug fuck nuts. His sister was a psycho who killed the Hales in that house fire all those years ago while her father was another psycho who tried to kill us all with a giant lizard monster. Chris’ wife was a zealot who totally drank the Kool Aid and chose to kill herself than become the thing she loathed the most and as much as I hate to talk ill of the dead, especially kids… the daughter, Allison, wasn’t the most stable either. Tch. Couldn’t really blame her for going a bit coo coo… she was a good kid overall.”
Tony just listened as the man vented. He got the feeling Noah didn’t really have anyone to share this kind of stuff with. Melissa was in the know but she seemed to live in denial and Deaton was too fucking cryptic. Peter seemed too smug and deceitful and Lori was still in the dark about it all. Chris had fucked off to France and there were a distinct lack of reasonable adults on the ground.
But that was ok. Tony was here now and he wasn’t going anywhere.
Later that night he’d helped a tipsy Noah up to his room, the man listing from downing five of the six beers Tony had purchased. Stiles had hovered nervously until Derek gently pulled him away, letting Tony put the older man to bed. Thankfully, Noah had a late shift tomorrow because if he was this wasted on a few weak beers, his hangover was going to be ridiculous tomorrow.
He promised to text the recipe for his famous DiNozzo Defribulator and gave Stiles his usual bear hug good night, grinning as he reeled a flushed Derek in for one as well. He noted how the young wolf seemed to melt into the touch, his arms holding Tony just as needy as Stiles did. His heart twisted; God, he was totally going to adopt this one too. I could already tell. Sigh.
He was gathering a real island of misfit toys, wasn’t he?
Probably, yes.
Eh… As long as he was Rudolf, he’d roll with it.
The drive back to the hotel was a thoughtful one and when he got back to the room he quickly shed his jacket and walked unto the balcony with his phone. The sky was cloudless and had a stunning view of the stars over a dark and foreboding blanket of thick woods. He thought that he could hear a faint howl in the distance and it sent a shiver through him. His fingers nimbly dialed a number he knew by heart. They were still awake, he was sure.
The phone connected. “Firefly.”
Tony let out a slow exhale, the tightening in his chest loosening at just the sound of that voice.
It always made everything better.
“Amadahy.”
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