Chapter Text
The pack is gathered in the rebuilt Hale house when they hear Stiles’ old, faulty jeep rumbling up the driveway. The noise of tires on the floor of the woods stops fifty feet from the house, and they can all hear the car idle. When no more sound is forthcoming, Erica, Boyd, Isaac, Scott, Jackson and Derek cock their head towards the front door.
“What’s going on?” asks Allison from her spot on the couch next to Scott.
Scott frowns at the door. “It’s Stiles. He’s in the jeep, parked outside.”
Lydia waves a Twizzler in his face. “Point?”
Isaac moves towards the window. “It’s almost like he’s waiting for us to come to him? I’m not sure, but he’s not moving.”
All the wolves’ ears prick, as though they’re listening to something, and Allison and Lydia exchange a look that says ‘werewolves and their super hearing’.
Immediately, the wolves straighten and stand up, trotting out of the house to stand on the porch.
“What’s going on?” Allison jabs at Scott’s side.
“Stiles just requested a meeting with the Hale pack.”
Outside, the sun is shining bright in the middle of the sky. It’s a nice enough day, the trees mostly bare and the floor of the woods littered with dying, brilliantly orange leaves. Thanksgiving is in a few days, and the pack is gathered as everyone is on break from college. They’ve all been waiting for Stiles to arrive, who they can now see standing in front of his jeep. His face is solemn, arms loose and crossing at the wrists where they are held in front of the hem of his shirt. His stance, while to an outsider might seem relaxed, is actually formal and respectful, that of a wolf in another pack’s territory.
“Alpha Hale,” Stiles says, baring his throat in acknowledgement of Derek’s authority. When no reply is forthcoming from Derek, he takes a breath and soldiers on, tone of voice polite but distant. “I requested an audience with you and your pack for a reason; may I approach?”
The words aren’t confusing or hard to understand, but the pack exchanges perplexed looks. An audience with who and may Stiles what now?
Derek, while seemingly just as perplexed, recognises the terminology generally used by another pack when trying to maintain peace. He bows his head once. “Approach.”
When Stiles moves forward enough so that neither Lydia nor Allison need to squint to make out his expression, all the wolves tense. There is an addition to his scent, one the wolves can barely make out from underneath the overpowering scent of Stiles’ body spray and bath products.
“I hereby withdraw myself from being a member of the Hale pack. In order to avoid inter-pack tension, I ask for your permission to be able to do so.”
Several jaws drop. A few minutes tick by in complete silence as the pack takes a moment for what Stiles said to sink in.
“Please take your time to weigh your options; I do not wish to start a pack war, but do heed that a pack war is exactly what will happen if you refuse,” murmurs Stiles.
“What does that even mean?”
Derek’s eyes glow red. “It means, Scott, that Stiles has another Alpha.”
The pack’s response is immediate. Everyone talks over each other, yelling and arguing. Scott and Erica try to move forward, but a barked-out command from Derek stops them dead in their tracks.
“Derek, you can’t let him do this!” Scott yells, arms flailing towards where Stiles is waiting patiently. Then he turns to Stiles. “Stiles, are you crazy? You’re pack! You can’t leave.”
Stiles seem inclined to answer. He winces as his eyes flicker to Derek briefly. “I am no longer a part of the Hale pack. I have found my true mate and have been claimed by him. That’s why I need Alpha Hale to sever my ties to this pack, truly. I cannot be part of two packs.”
Isaac looks like he’s on the verge of tears. “Is this true?” he whispers to Derek.
“Yes,” Derek says at a normal volume. He straightens his stance further. “A wolf cannot be claimed by two packs, let alone a human. Stiles has been claimed-” so that’s what the additional scent is “-and he belongs with his mate. A mated wolf or human does not survive long without their mate after they have been claimed.”
Allison grabs Scott’s arm when he lunges forward, leaving Lydia to ask the question that’s on their minds. “Are you saying he could die if he’s away from his mate for too long?” The incredulity is obvious in her voice, along with concern for Stiles.
Derek’s mouth tightens. “That’s precisely what I’m saying. A newly mated human will not last long away from his mate.”
Stiles nods at that, finally uncrossing his arms. When he speaks, he sounds like himself again as opposed to the formal, robot-like voice he’s been using thus far. “That’s why I’m leaving in a couple of hours. I won’t be back in Beacon Hills for a while – at least, not until the bond is settled. Both being away from my mate and being around wolves who aren’t pack makes it volatile.”
A frown creeps on Derek’s face as he seems to realise something. “A bond between mates is only volatile when…”
“The wolf is an Alpha? I know.” There’s a rueful twist to Stiles’ mouth now, obvious longing in his eyes as he stares at them across the expanse of space he’s left between himself and his former pack.
Something seems to dawn on Scott. He points accusingly at Derek. “You said that sometimes a bond can take up to a year to settle!”
“As Alpha of the Hale pack, I hereby give you permission to join your true pack,” Derek says instead, sounding pained.
He doesn’t try to stop Scott when he flies towards Stiles, knowing nothing short of the Alpha command voice will stop him, yet not having the heart to use it. Scott stops a few feet away from Stiles, however, when Stiles himself throws his arm out, hand spread in the universal sign for stop.
“Stiles?” Scott asks.
But Stiles is shaking his head, mouth a grim smile that’s really anything but. “I’m sorry Scott, but I can’t. I need to leave. Goodbye,” he addresses the rest of them before moving swiftly to his jeep and driving away, not looking back once.
Boyd is a silent shoulder to cry on for Erica, who buries her face into his shirt. Lydia leads Jackson, who is seemingly shell-shocked, back into the house just as Allison walks forward to tug Scott into a hug.
Isaac whines at Derek, blue eyes wide and watery with unshed tears.
“I know, Isaac,” Derek murmurs, eyes fixed on where Stiles’ jeep disappeared. “I know.”