Chapter Text
Stiles ignored the stares that he and his pack (and he was surprised to realise he was including Danny and Jackson in that group) were receiving as they walked through the airport after collecting their bags. The first stop had been to the toilets where he had Derek, Scott, Isaac and Jackson dress in actual clothes; just jeans, a shirt and a pair of sneakers, but it would do for now. Though, he had to admit, if only to himself, it was the cause of the attention they were getting now; four collared, and clothed, slave-pets certainly stood out, but he wouldn’t make their next stop without them being fully clothed.
He hadn’t expected any arguments from his wolves about getting dressed. He had assumed they would be happy to wear regular clothes or at least something that didn’t make it look like they just stepped off the set of a porno movie. No, it just couldn’t be that straightforward.
Stiles dispensed the clothes to the wolves when they closed the door to the bathroom behind them; he looked at them expecting to see happy smiling faces. Well, Jackson could be happy but, it's kinda hard to tell when his face moves less than Kristen Stewart. He just looks at Danny expectantly and when he doesn’t object Jackson starts pulling on the pants. Scott and Isaac look like he is making them do something heinous, both of them scowling and casting hateful glances at him while they dress. Derek looks at them like he doesn’t know what they are.
“What are these?” Derek asks, his eyebrows pulled into a scowl in the middle of his brow, as he holds the pair of denim jeans out at arm’s length from him. Stiles just doesn’t get what the problem is.
“Those are pants Derek,” he retorts, “They go over your ass, I know it’s been awhile since you’ve worn them, but we both know that you still know what pants are, and how to put them own. I’ve seen how you watch me, eyes tracking my every movement, when I get dressed for school or when we go to the park, so I know you haven’t forgotten how to put them on either. Speaking of which, by the way, it would be great if you could start dressing any time now so that the four of you are dressed and we can be on our way before someone else comes in here.”
“Yes, I do know what pants are. What I don’t know is why we,”Derek’s scowl has deepened as he waves his arm between Scott, Isaac, Jackson and himself, “ Are getting dressed? It will only draw more attention to us.”
“Derek,” Stiles pauses as the door to the bathroom opens and a security guard walks in.
“Everything alright in here?” the guard asks, “You do realise that these facilities are only for humans, not slave-pets?”
“Our slave-pets are not using the facilities,” Stiles coldly answers, “We are using them to get our pets in some clothing so they don’t get their sweat all over my rental car, getting it all sweaty and filthy. That way I won’t be paying extra for a deep clean when we return it.”
“ Now,” he growls as he turns back to Derek, “Get those on before I drag you to the lobby and spank you red for everyone to watch.” Derek freezes and takes a moment to process Stiles’ words, Stiles know he likes to be spanked but publicly is probably not something he’s ready for or would want, before he is quickly pulling on the jeans. Although, as Stiles see’s Derek covering up his rapidly thickening cock, maybe he’s wrong, maybe being spanked in public is something that Derek would want after all.
So, after taking far longer to get the wolves dressed than he had anticipated they are finally heading to the car rental desk; all four slave-pets dressed in regular clothes, and while they look uncomfortable under the stares of public, Stiles ignores it. He is not letting the judge-y stares get to him at all as he strides up to the desk and rings the bell. Not one bit.
“We have a reservation under Stilinski,” Stiles says to the guy behind the desk, ignoring his gaze slipping to the wolves behind him, “It was booked through the company, Argent Pet Supplies...” He snaps his fingers to get the guys attention back to him.
"Yes sir, we have your reservation right here,” he says tapping furiously on the keyboard, “Let's see...a seven seat hybrid? And you're in luck we still have the car you requested.”
“Yeah, Argent’s should have pre-paid and have a credit card on file, any additional costs are to be charged back to them. Mr Mahealani should be registered as the additional driver; I trust everything is in order.”
"Yes sir, we have your license information on file already, everything seems to be in order, have a wonderful day Mr. Stilinski."
Rushing the guy through all the checks seemed to have been the best choice, hopefully his brusque manner and fast talking was enough to keep him from noticing that neither driver is over twenty-one as they should be, and as their rental agreement claims.
Soon enough they are loading their bags into the trunk, and once the four wolves are safely buckled up in the back Stiles starts driving to their destination. As they pull out onto the I-5 headed north Danny let out a breath.
“Jeez, Stiles, I can’t believe that worked; I kept expecting them to come running after us. I don’t think I’ve ever been so nervous. You might be the worst liar ever,” Danny half-laughed as he looked over at him.
“Rude! I had it under control,” Stiles lies, and he knows the wolves picked it up, “Nothing to be nervous about.”
“You are so full of shit,” Danny laughs. “Yeah,” Danny smirks, “Like you weren’t worried, talking so fast and twitching so much was all part of your plan; I’m just happy it worked in our favour.”
“Nice job hacking their system, makes convincing them we're over twenty-one a bit easier,” Stiles says.
“Thanks,” Danny replies, then a little more soberly adds, “Now we just need to find a way to actually cross the border.”
“That’s for tomorrow,” Stiles smiles, trying to keep his own nervousness out of his voice, “Tonight we have a blast at the hotel all paid for by Argent Pet Supplies.” After one little surprise stop, he thinks to himself.
Scott couldn’t help but pull at the collar of the shirt and the leg of the jeans; after so many months of becoming used to being naked he feels uncomfortable in the clothes. He still didn’t know why he and the rest of the pack were being forced to wear them, Jackson, Derek and Isaac all looked just as awkward as he felt.
The drive from the airport was only about twenty minutes and the car was pulling up outside a small townhouse in Seattle; he thought they were headed to a hotel. As Stiles switched the engine off Scott could feel Stiles’ heart rate spike, “Something wrong?”
“No, nothing wrong,” Stiles answers, “Okay, well, I hope this is the right address,” Stiles said as he got out of the car, “come on.”
Everyone took their cue and followed Stiles up the path to the door, he knocked loudly. After a few moments he was about to knock again when the door opened.
“Hi…” Stiles didn’t get to say another word as a fist smacked him right on the nose.
“Stiles… Mom?” Scott couldn’t quite believe his eyes, his mom was standing there in the doorway of the house; and she had just punched his master.
The moment caught up with him, and he realised what he was seeing. He was standing in front of his mom; his master had found his mom, and brought him here to see her. He felt the tears well in his eyes, “Mom?”
“Scott?” she covered her mouth with her hand, the shock and joy and disbelief flitting through her eyes momentarily before she pushes forward and pulls him into a hug so tight.
He nuzzles against her neck, taking in her scent and the feel of her hair against his cheek; everything so familiar, as if they were still a family back in Beacon Hills before… the thought making his tears fall. She keeps repeating his name as he holds him, as if fearful he may disappear; the whine is pulled from him before he can hold it back, because tomorrow he will.
“You know, maybe it wouldn’t be the worst idea to take this inside,” he hears Stiles suggest. His mom pulls back from him, wiping at her eyes with her hands. Stiles follows up with, “The lounge might be more comfortable.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” she says as she steps inside, and his pack quickly follows.
“Well…” Stiles starts as he sits, noticing the hesitancy of his pack, clearly not sure where they should sit; how they should behave around Scott’s mom, “Guys, sit down,” he says patting the space beside him on the couch; Derek immediately takes the seat beside him. Isaac copies Jackson, who is sitting at Danny’s feet, by sitting on the floor between himself and Derek, and Scott settles beside him.
“You know I think that Scott’s mom has more chairs, and I don’t think she will object to you using them,” he says, only for Isaac and Scott to give him the sad puppy look at his suggestion, “Fine, whatever; why wouldn’t you all be happier sitting on the floor.”
“You’ve got some explaining to do Stiles,” Melissa rounded on him as soon as everyone was seated, her anger at him and distrust of him clear in her tone, “What the hell gives you the right to be here after the misery you caused? And what are you doing with Scott?”
“He’s my Master,” Scott answers, and Stiles can tell he is somehow confused at her anger towards him.
“He’s your what?” she gasps, and Stiles can see her rage begin to burn before she screams at him, “Wasn’t it bad enough you dragged him out into woods to get bitten?” her tears falling as she continues, almost screaming at him, “Wasn’t it enough that you ripped him from his family? That you ruined his life in every way possible? That you took my son from me?”
And Stiles can’t answer her, can’t defend himself; what could he say? Nothing. Not when it is everything he has ever thought himself, berated himself for, and knows that nothing can ever make up for causing him to be bitten, for not being able to save him when WERES came to the school and took him and Jackson.
“NO!” Scott screams, and Stiles hears the low growl emanating from Derek and Isaac as Scott says, “He didn’t drag me anywhere, he isn’t responsible for me being out there; I am.”
“Scott,” Stiles says, intending to tell him he knows Scott’s mom is right.
“No,” Scott interrupts him, “We had this discussion before, when you got me; I know you feel responsible, that you feel you should have done more to protect me. You feel that way about everyone you care about; that you need to protect them, be responsible for them. But what more could you have done?”
"Scott I know you don't blame me,” Stiles says quietly, “But that doesn't mean your mom is wrong.” He looks over at Scott to see his brow crinkled in confusion, “Do you remember when you told me that you always had a choice, and that you chose to do what made me happy? I didn't really appreciate it at the time Scott, but part of making decisions for someone means putting their wellbeing before your own. You needed me to put your best interests before my own Scotty, and I didn’t do that. But I promise you I will always do that now.”
“That’s crazy!” Stiles’ eyes widen at Scott’s outburst, “You tried to help me and Jackson escape as soon as you found out we were werewolves, and when weres took me from Allison you made sure to keep me so I had a pack. What more could you have done?”
“You tried to help them escape?” Melissa asks, “But everyone said you stopped them escaping, or that you tried to until they overpowered you and locked you in a cupboard.”
“Yeah, well, that’s because the idiots did overpower me and lock me in a cupboard; we were on the way to my jeep at the time. Like the Spanish Inquisition, no one expects two werewolves to ambush the guy trying to help them escape; morons,” Stiles says with a smirk at his best friend as he runs his fingers through his hair. He can tell that Scott has a smile on his face as he rubs his cheek against his leg.
“Until the Argents and WEREs turned up I didn’t even know Scott had been bitten,” Stiles quietly tells her, “If I had we would have been halfway to Canada the day after he was bitten.”
“How could you have kept this from me?” she asks turning to Scott, tears in her eyes as she kneels on the floor beside him, pulling him into another hug, “Why? You should have told me. How could you be so stupid? I could have done something to protect you, I could have moved us up here and arranged to sneak across the border…”
Stiles smiles as he recalls a similar conversation that he and Scott had on the day that he became his legal owner.
The water cascaded down Scott’s back, Stiles hands resting in the curve above his back. Their foreheads touching as Scott whispers the words against his lips, “You’ll be the awesomest Master.”
Stiles hopes the water raining down on them from the showerhead will hide his tears; hopes that maybe Scott isn’t quite capable yet of picking up on all the other tell-tale signs, his heartbeat, his scent, the dilation of his pupils, the hope dashed when he sees the questioning look in Scott’s eyes.
“I’m the worst best friend,” he replies, “I never noticed what was going on with you; looking back now I can see, and I don’t know how I missed it. How jumpy you were the day after we went out looking for the body, how good you were on at lacrosse practice; I should have noticed Scotty, and I didn’t.”
“No…”
“Yes, if I was any sort of friend I would have noticed, and I could have helped, come up with some way to protect you…”
“No, I didn’t want you to know…”
“But we told each other everything, didn’t we? You could have trusted me.”
“… I wanted to protect you,” Scott waivers as he replies, “If WERES thought you knew, that you were helping to hide me being a slave-pet they would have charged you and your dad, he’d have lost his job; I couldn’t tell my mom either, I couldn’t let the people I cared about, the people I loved, be in any more danger because of what I am.”
"What you are is my best friend...no, you’re more than that Scotty, you're my brother. I would die for you a hundred times over. Will you trust me to take care of you from now on? No more secrets."
"No more secrets, I love you master."
“What exactly is going on?” Melissa asks, the stern tone of her voice pulling him from his thoughts. He looks up to see his wolves looking sheepishly to the ground as Melissa looks from one to another of them.
“What did I miss?” Stiles asks, feeling his eyebrows rise as he looks around at everyone, “And can we maybe move from the hallway into the lounge?” He sees Melissa roll her eyes at him.
“I was saying to my son,” Stiles winces at the way she bit off the word as she said it, “That if I had known I might have been able to arrange for us to sneak across the border; then I noticed the nervous looks everyone was giving each other; so, Stiles, what is going on?”
“Funny you should ask actually, ‘cause we’re sneaking across the border; tomorrow,” he replies smiling at her, “Wanna come along?”
“Are you completely insane?” she wails at him, “How are you going to sneak six of you past the border patrols? And why now?”
"It won’t be as complicated as it sounds. Getting close to the border with them is half the battle, and that's already taken care of. WERES approved us using Jackson as a stud for a slave-pet within half an hour of the border. It's not a guarantee but Canada has never turned away werewolf refugees. They've stayed neutral in the past but with the invasion into Alaska I figure border tensions may play in our favour. The Canadians won't care if we cross the border illegally. The border is nearly four thousand miles long, excluding Alaska, the guys on this side of it can’t patrol the whole thing. You wouldn’t even know it was there if it wasn’t for the twenty feet of clear cut trees and wilderness…”
“Stiles,” Melissa says drawing his attention back to her and the question he was about to answer.
“Yes, sorry, babbling… right, why now? Well…” he thinks for a moment, taking Derek’s hand as he tries to decide where to start, “The main thing is Derek and I are expecting…”
“Expecting?” Melissa immediately interrupts him, “Wait… Derek is the delta that went into heat? I’d heard a rumour…”
“It’s no rumour, he’s carrying our twins, and I won’t have my family raised as slaves. Why don’t I start at the beginning?”
He wants to explain everything, as best he can. Some of it not even his pack will have heard before; certainly not Danny and Jackson.
”I always wanted a ‘slave-pet’, but not for the reasons most people do,” he starts, the emotion already creeping into his voice, “I thought that if I could find one werewolf that I could give as normal a life as possible it would be worth it; it was all I thought about, but it never happened.”
“After Scott was bitten and taken by the Argents and WERES I knew that I didn’t want Scott to go through all that I saw other werewolves endure; not after I caused him to be bit. It seemed perfect, I could save my best friend, make sure he was happy and keep him safe. I just needed dad to sign the papers, but he flat out refused to let me buy Scotty,” Stiles knows that he and Scott have talked about it since he came to live with them, but he can feel the tears in his eyes, as he continues, “I… I’m sorry if you thought I didn’t want you, but I wanted you more than I wanted anything Scotty.”
“I don’t think my dad and I ever fought that bad before, we didn’t speak for weeks. We only started talking again when he agreed that I could have a slave pet, as long as it wasn’t Scott. I was still angry, but things did start to get better between us. That’s when Lydia showed up. I can only speculate how Lydia Martin had gotten hold of my WERES psychological assessment and exam scores,” when he looks across at Danny he at least has the decency to look guilty.
“Lydia told me that she was looking for someone to help with a little project, and that if I was interested to meet her at Deaton’s. I thought she was talking about a school project; at Deaton’s I found out how wrong I was.”
“It was Deaton who told me that ‘Ms Martin’ had checked his WERES assessment and found me to be the best person for the job,” he tries to keep the sneering tone from his voice, but Stiles is sure he fails, “That given the results of the tests he carried out for my mom after she was attacked he was sure that I would help them; telling me how they really needed me to help them, it would be better for everyone if they succeeded. This was how I found out I was not exactly human, and not exactly wolf.”
He pauses briefly as considers how to continue.
“So, I knew that if I was to interact with the Argents and infiltrate the Argent Pet Empire to feed Deaton and his little local cell of the werewolf rights group information I couldn’t be myself. I had to act like every other slave-pet owner. I had to buy a slave-pet he could treat like that, one that I wouldn’t care so much about. So I bought werewolf with the meanest, gruffest look and the sourest disposition. I bought Sourwolf,” Stiles is stopped by Derek’s snort of laughter and turns to stare at him.
“Sorry,” Derek says looking sheepish, “But if how you treated me when you first bought me is how badly you thought other owners treat their werewolves, I have to tell you it was far better than best I was treated by Kate Argent; it was better than how I’d seen any other werewolf treated.”
“Yeah,” Stiles says, “My plan went awry. I fell in love with Derek, I also ended up owning Scott, and then when I had to let WERES know about Derek being a delta and having his heat they arranged for me to get Isaac, to see if I could cause another delta to have their heat; but they aren’t my pets, they are my pack.”
“And now Isaac is getting close to his heat. My pack is getting ready to start a family. I need to know they are protected and safe.”
There is silence when he finishes, he can see Melissa thinking through what he has just revealed.
“Deaton arranged the job I have here, it’s at werewolf clinic, one where actual doctors and nurses treat them instead of a veterinary nurse or doctor,” Melissa reveals, her voice startling Stiles in the silence, but her next words shock him more, “I was part of the wolf rights cell in Beacon Hills. I can’t believe he would risk the life of a teenager, what the hell was he thinking?”
Melissa is out of the chair and pacing the room in her anger, “He’s lucky Claudia isn’t here to see what he did; she would have ripped his throat out, with her teeth, for what he has done,” she says turning to Stiles, he’s shocked to hear his mom talked of being capable of doing something so violent, “After all the effort we went to covering up that she was turned by the bite. Deaton throws it all away for his own agenda.”
“My mom was a werewolf?” Stiles sits there stunned by Melissa’s statement.
“Deaton didn’t tell you?” Melissa stops her pacing and turns on the spot to face him, “Typical of the man to give you part of the story and not everything.”
“Yeah, he only mentioned that despite the results of the WERES blood test I kinda wasn’t entirely human,” Stiles half laughs; edging close to hysterics. This was supposed to be a reunion for Scott and his mom, not a revelation of Stilinski family secrets. He’d never understood why his mom wanted the tests Deaton carried out on him, it never made sense when she wasn’t bitten, she’d only been attacked, scratched with claws not with the alpha’s big sharp teeth.
“I need some air,” he blurts out, turning to look at Melissa before continuing, “Why don’t I take everyone else out back into your garden, to enjoy the early morning sun, while Scott and you catch up?” He rises out of the seat and everybody follows suit.
He sits on the garden bench; Derek rubbing soothing circles on his back as Isaac rubs against him, cheek to cheek. He takes a few deep breaths to calm his racing thoughts; how did his mom keep hidden the fact that she was a werewolf until she died? How much was Deaton and Melissa involved in that? What were the implications of it for the changes that were occurring in his DNA? What is he?
Now more than ever he knew that he had to get his pack to Canada. It was the only way he could be sure to protect them.
“You’re looking well,” Melissa says, not taking her eyes off her son, the son she didn’t think she would ever see again.
“I’m fine,” Scott smiles, “Better now that I’m with Stiles, and Derek and Isaac.”
The thought crosses her mind that he could be thinking that purely due to the werewolf kibble.
“He feeding you right?” she finds herself asking.
“Sure.”
And she knows he’s hiding something, Scott was never a good liar, and a mother knows the look that crossed his face. It makes her wonder again at how she missed it those weeks after he bitten, or did she just mistake what was being hidden from her after finding Scott and Jackson in bed together. Knowing what she does now changes her interpretation of that day.
“Scott, what aren’t you telling me?” she asks using he stern, concerned mother tone; she sees the worry that crosses his face and is suddenly expecting the worst.
“You can’t tell anyone,” he says earnestly, “Promise.”
“Okay,” she easily says. She’ll decide after he has told her whether to keep that promise.
“Master,” she bristles at her son calling his best friend that, “He feeds us the same food he eats; even before he knew about the effects of kibble he only gave us what he needed to, after he wouldn’t let us eat it at all, we only ate the same food as he and his dad ate.”
“What do you mean he wouldn’t let you?” she asks confused by what Scott has said, “Did you want to eat it?”
“NO, but we had too; if WERES tested us and found we haven’t been eating it they would take us away from Stiles,” his reply filled with panic at the thought as he looks guiltily to the floor, “So, we’d sneak down to the kitchen when he was asleep and eat some.” She can’t contain the laugh that escapes at the thought of three werewolves lying to their owner and sneaking into the kitchen because they wanted to eat kibble.
“Sorry,” she says noticing Scott’s puzzled look at her laughing, “I just can’t get over the image of the three of you sneaking out of bed to go eat that stuff.”
“Yeah,” Scott smirks, “We always had the competition between us to see who could come up with the most convincing thing that would make it taste better,” she sees the wistful look come over his face, “None of ever did,” her joking, smiling son is suddenly replaced with the apprehensive and haunted one.
“We didn’t want WERES to take us from him. I didn’t want someone like Allison’s mom owning me; I like being owned by Stiles, he looks after us. We read, we talk, we play Call of Duty; we never sleep in the cage, but sleep right beside him. He’s the perfect master. He’s our alpha.”
“Oh Scott,” she wraps her arms around him, hugging him tightly.
They leave Melissa’s after arranging to meet tomorrow morning to head to Bellingham, and onto the border.
Stiles drives them straight to the hotel, they check-in and are shown up to their joining rooms. The cages are set against the wall opposite the bed; three small cages that together are barely the size of the bed.
As they are settling into the room Isaac suddenly whimpers and gasps as he slumps against one of the chairs. As Stiles walks towards him to check that he is alright Scott is suddenly placing himself between Isaac and anyone else.
“Mine,” Scott snarls at Stiles.
Stiles knows what is wrong with Isaac; his heat has arrived with perfect timing. Not. And he can’t let Scott just claim him; not with without Isaac giving his consent.