Stetopher || Teen Wolf || Stetopher || Emissary of the Hale Pack || Stetopher || Teen Wolf || Stetopher

Title: Emissary of the Hale Pack – Second Chances

TW Disclaimer: All rights reserved to Jeff Davis and MTV. This fanfiction on the other hand is entirely mine. No money is made with this, though reviews are more than welcomed.

Tags: m/m/m, polyamory, time travel fix it, No Hale Fire, PTSD, grief, past character death, hurt/comfort, fluff, found family, adoption, Spark Stiles, explicit intercourse, anal, oral, m/f

Main Pairing: Chris/Peter/Stiles

Side Pairings: Derek/Paige, Damon/Talia, Aaron/Fiona, Vernon/Anita, Roberto/Susanne

Teen Wolf Characters: Mieczysław 'Stiles' Stilinski Stiliyan Johnson, Chris Argent, Peter Hale, Talia Hale, Laura Hale, Derek Hale, Cora Hale, Malia Tate, Allison Argent, Isaac Lahey, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd, Alicia Boyd, Camden Lahey Jr., Paige Krasikeva, Sheriff Noah Stilinski

Original Characters: Dalia Hale, Damon Hale, Aaron Hale, Fiona Hale, Jason Hale, Sloan Hale, Vernon Boyd Senior, Anita Boyd, Bonnie Boyd, Roberto Reyes, Susanne Reyes

Summary: Stiles lost everything, his entire pack was dead, his mate Peter had died in his arms. In his despair, he uses forbidden time-travel magic. He goes back far enough to save Paige and prevent the Hale Fire. But now he is stranded in the past, unsure what his place in it all is.

Emissary of the Hale Pack

Second Chances

Chapter 1: Back to the Beginning

Deucalion was coughing, weak and broken on the inside as half his pack had just died in that warehouse. He was crawling away, knowing he stood no chance. Gerard was still standing, there was nobody to have Deucalion's back. He was alone and he was going to die now.

Talia and Deaton's words came back to haunt him and he felt foolish for it. All his optimism got him was the death of his pack and now his own death too. He turned around, staring up at Gerard frightfully. There was a manic glint in the man's eyes as he raised two strange arrows.

"Not this time."

Gerard's eyes bulged and then blood started spilling from his mouth. He dropped the arrows and grasped helplessly at his own throat. Deucalion didn't know what was happening, he simply stared with wide eyes as Gerard went down and collapsed next to him. There was a crossbow bolt lodged square into Gerard's back, going straight through the man's lung and into his heart.

Deucalion looked up just to see the young man lower his crossbow. He had sharp, bright eyes, filled with rage and pain. He was the most beautiful thing Deucalion had ever laid eyes on, radiating power and vengeance like an Old God. His eyes were cold when he looked at Deucalion and suddenly, the Alpha still feared death. He had never felt more like prey than in this moment.

"You saved my life," Deucalion whispered amazed.

"No," the beautiful boy disagreed with a sneer. "I saved the lives of those I love. Saving your life is a byproduct and nothing else. Earn that second chance I am giving you."

Deucalion struggled to sit up. "H… How?"

"Be the Visionary you're supposed to be. Don't let what happened here turn you into what Gerard wanted to paint you as. Don't become the monster he saw in you."

Deucalion nodded, dizzy from the pain and loss, overwhelmed by this. He had lost hope and then this angel had come and saved him, given him a second chance. Deucalion was going to use it.

/break\

Stiles stumbled breathlessly into the clearing, following the beacon of his Nemeton. His heart was racing in his chest like it was trying to break out of his rib-cage. It was already dark, too dark. What if he was too late? He couldn't be late for this. He shouldn't have gotten distracted by going to the warehouse, but it had been too important not to. Killing Gerard had the highest priority and though he could have done it at a later point, he knew that saving Deucalion would save others too.

Behind his eyes, he saw Erica's lifeless body in that closet, saw Boyd impaled in the loft, Derek kneeling before him, defeated and broken. They wouldn't have died if there was no Alpha Pack.

Stiles' heart sank when he entered the root cellar. The first thing that slammed into him was just how young Derek was. He was so unbearably young and innocent. It was funny, in a twisted way, but back when all of this had started for Stiles, he had felt so grown-up, practically an adult. He'd only been a year older than Derek was right now. Looking at Derek right now, Stiles felt a little mortified realizing just how young they had been. How young he himself had been.

"Who are you? How did you find this place?"

Swallowing hard, Stiles staggered back a little as he found himself face to face with Peter Hale. Smooth-faced, a decade younger than Stiles remembered him, but gorgeous as ever. Inhaling sharply through his nose, Stiles pushed past Peter, not looking at the wolf. He had a mission and that mission laid in Derek's lap right now, struggling to breath.

"Hey there, Paige," Stiles smiled warmly as he knelt next to the teens. "It's going to be okay."

"She's… She's dying," Derek's voice broke, tears running down his fault. "It's my fault."

Stiles lifted his gaze, regarding Derek sharply. "It is not your fault. Now shut up, okay?"

Derek looked startled and nearly meek, clearly overwhelmed by the situation and his own fear. Things Stiles could deal with later. His focus returned to the brunette girl in Derek's lap. Her pained, brown eyes looked up at him and he could see it in them. Paige knew she was dying and she had made her peace with it. He'd seen that look in his mother's eyes before she had died.

"I can help you," Stiles kept his voice gentle. "But I need you to make a choice. Do you want to be a werewolf, or do you want to stay human? Either way, it is a final choice, but it is your choice."

"Wh… What?" Paige couched, looking so exhausted.

"I can help you. I can either stop the bite from taking fully and ejecting it from your body, making you human again, but you will never be able to receive the bite again. Or I can heal you and help the bite along, making you a werewolf," Stiles explained patiently. "It's your choice, Paige."

She looked at him for a brief moment before she turned to look at Derek. Stiles hadn't fully understood what Derek had lost when he lost her until he saw the way she looked at him. It explained so much, it explained why Derek had fallen victim to Kate and to Jennifer. Losing Paige had broken something inside him, had made him lose hope in love, so he settled for the women preying on him. Stiles breathed deep and leaned back on his haunches.

"I want…" Paige turned back to Stiles. "I want to be a wolf."

A faint smile spread over Stiles' lips and he nodded. He closed his eyes and concentrated, pressing his spread-out hand against the bite. Peter had moved closer, watching him with a wary expression. The man gave a startled gasp and stumbled back when Stiles opened his eyes and Stiles knew they were glowing a bright, unmistakable teal. The roots around them started creaking when the Nemeton reacted to its guardian. The only reason this was going to work was because they were right under her, that Stiles could channel her powers like this. The ground began to shake when Stiles drew more of her magic, the shallow pool that existed protesting the drain.

I will refill you again, Stiles promised in his mind. I will make you whole again. I will fix this. I will fix you. But first, you need to help me fix her. Please.

Because today was the day. Today was the first day of the end. When Derek lost Paige and Ennis lost the trust of the other Alphas for his actions, when Gerard had killed Deucalion's pack and blinded the man. It had set up so much tragedy and pain. And if Stiles didn't prevent it all, then he was doomed to fail, he knew it, could feel it deep in his bones. Today needed to be a success.

The Nemeton's roots moved, stretching out and wrapping around Stiles' arms, torso and throat. Holding him upright, strengthening him, connecting him to his tree. Paige's eyes shot open with a gasp and they glowed the innocent, bright gold of a beta. Stiles managed a weak smile and he knew, if not for the roots, he would have collapsed then and there, all energy drained from him.

"Y… You… You healed her," Derek stared at him with those large, disbelieving hazel-eyes.

Stiles nodded and, with the Nemeton's help, stood. "Go home, Derek. Introduce Paige to her new Alpha and… explain this to your mother. Good luck with that."

Derek nodded and helped Paige up. The two teens turned to stare at Stiles one last time before leaving the root-cellar. The roots retreated from Stiles when he took a step toward Peter, who hadn't moved. Ice-blue eyes fixated Stiles, dissecting him in that way that had always made Stiles shudder in anticipation. His own eyes hardened as he approached the wolf who wasn't his.

"It's an honor to meet you, Spark," Peter spoke with a charming smile, bowing his head a little.

The perfect picture of respect, as fake as it was. Stiles raised his hand and the echo of the slap was so much louder in the empty space. When Peter looked at him again, he seemed genuinely shocked.

"I know what you did," Stiles spat. "I know you got in his head, you put this idea into him that she needs to be a wolf to truly understand. Stop projecting your own fears onto him! He's just a kid! He fucking adores you, he'd follow you and your advise anywhere."

"H… How…" Peter stared at him in surprise, cradling his red cheek.

So maybe Stiles had put a bit of magic strength into that slap, to let his wolf feel it. "Do better."

All Peter did was nod and swallow. Clearly the events that had just transpired – Paige's near death (which Stiles knew had never been what Peter wanted), Stiles healing her and revealing his status as a Spark, and now the slap – had rattled the wolf enough to make him shut up. Usually, Stiles reveled in these rare moments that he got the upper hand in an argument between them and managed to silence Peter, with that adorably dumbfounded expression on his face. Right now wasn't a playful argument, right now, Stiles was furious with the wolf who wasn't his. Because Stiles knew what would have happened if he hadn't been there, he knew the trajectory both Peter and Derek's lives, and their relationship, would have taken if Stiles hadn't intervened.

"Go home, Peter," Stiles sighed, all fight leaving him. "Just… go home. Clean up your mess."

Peter stared at him for another long moment and Stiles knew that look. He'd received that look before. The moment Peter Hale decided that Stiles Stilinski was a mystery he ought to unwrap and an asset he wanted to call his. That look, Stiles knew because Peter had told him what it meant, had told him that the moment he'd looked at Stiles that way had been the moment he'd started falling for Stiles. That realization left Stiles so startled, all he could do was watch Peter leave. It was far too early and why did this stupid wolf keep being attracted to Stiles getting in his way? What was wrong with this man? Shaking his head, Stiles rubbed his face.

He wasn't done for the day just yet, after all. He was at the Nemeton, in its cellar. And he knew that at this point in time, there was someone else down here. Tilting his head, Stiles turned and let his magic guide him toward the closed jar with the little, glowing firefly in it.

"Mh," Stiles watched the darkness spinning a web between the firefly and Stiles' hand against the glass. "We're still connected, you and I. You were in my head, and I was in yours. I know I can't destroy you, but… I can change your shape and I can bind you."

He channeled his magic toward the firefly even as he unscrewed the lid. The moment it left the jar, its shape changed. Stiles smiled down at the small black fox with the glowing firefly-like yellow eyes. It snarled and hissed at him, hackles raised. Stiles' smile grew and he bared his teeth.

"You're bound to me now, Nogitsune," Stiles whispered lightly. "You'll serve as my familiar. Which means you can not harm me or those I consider mine."

"You will regret this, Spark," the Nogitsune growled and swiped at him.

Stiles huffed and grabbed him by the scruff. "Yeah, probably. But leaving you here unsupervised is much unsafer. Besides, if you behave yourself, we can indulge in some chaos, every now and again. I have a lot to do in this time and much of it is revenge and murder. You should like that."

A triangular black ear twitched and the fox in his grasp tilted its head. Stiles put the fox into the hood of his red hoodie, at which the Nogitsune grumbled in indignity. He was just the right size to fit in there though. A pleased grin lit up Stiles' face. He'd done it. He had killed Gerard, prevented Deucalion from becoming the Demon Wolf, saved Paige's life and eliminated the Nogitsune as a threat. All in a day's work. There was a lot more on his to-do-list still, but so far, it was going well.

Together with his new familiar did he exit the root-cellar. He paused when he noticed the ice-blue eyes staring at him expectantly. Sighing, Stiles walked past Peter. Of course had he not listened. Damn stubborn wolf and his endless curiosity and hunger for knowledge.

"You didn't really think I'd just leave you here, did you?" Peter smirked. "A Spark in our territory? I'm escorting you to my Alpha, because I feel like she doesn't know about you."

Great. Meeting Talia Hale. Not exactly on his to-do-list. Or his want-to-do-list. Stiles still held a grudge on both Peter and Malia's behalf for the memories she took and the child she abandoned.

Stiles sighed in defeat. "Lead the way, Peter."

/break\

"Why don't you go and take care of Derek, talk to Peter? I'll… speak to our new guest."

Stiles swallowed hard, not looking away from the woman before him, even as he could see Talia Hale nod from the corner of his eyes and return to the other room that Derek and Paige were still in. She must have been in the middle of consoling Derek and getting all the information on what had happened tonight when Peter and Stiles had arrived. The Alpha hadn't liked the interruption, or the stranger in her pack's den, that much was plain to see. And then the Alpha's mother walked in.

Dalia Hale was every bit as intimidating as Stiles expected her to be, from reputation alone. The girl who ran with wolves, once upon a time. Former Emissary of the Hale Pack, former Alpha Mate of the Hale Pack, mother to Talia, Peter and their younger brother. A powerful druid. She looked like an innocent, middle-aged woman, with the same full, dark hair as both Peter and Talia, but she had Peter's sharp, ice-blue eyes. They stared at Stiles like she was dissecting him, the same way Peter used to. Always trying to figure out all the angles and most of the time perceptive enough to do it. That was what made her intimidating, because Stiles couldn't afford to be dissected.

"Go with your sister, Peter," Dalia's voice was a firm order when her son didn't move.

Peter heaved a frustrated sigh and threw one last intrigued look at Stiles. "Yes, mother."

It was strange, Stiles couldn't decide whether he was glad or sad that Peter left. Though he couldn't see them, he was acutely aware of the rest of the pack in the house, most likely close by. He'd guess Derek's father was in the same room as Derek, Talia and Paige. The wolves among the pack might stick closer to the living room Stiles was in with Dalia right now, not trusting the stranger.

"Follow me to my office," Dalia requested. "Away from prying werewolf ears."

Stiles had a feeling that wasn't necessarily a good thing. Still, he didn't see much other option than to follow the druid. They entered an office, the walls lined floor to ceiling with shelves, filled with old books, bottles, potted plants and ingredients. The moment the door closed behind them, Stiles could feel the magic of a silencing rune kick in. Dalia smiled warmly at him as she sat down behind her heavy, dark desk, putting some parchment and dried herbs aside.

"I'm so sorry to bother you, ma'am," Stiles offered a polite smile. "Peter shouldn't have dragged me here. I promise, I am not a threat to your family or pack. I'll be out of your hair right away, I just had some business in town but… I have nothing to keep me here so I'll be on my way now."

To his surprise did Dalia laugh. "I know that tone, the way you say his name. What did my son do? He's left a lot of broken hearts in his wake. Tell me how he broke yours and I will ground him."

"You'll ground a twenty-eight year old man?" Stiles smiled amused. "And he didn't break my-"

The smile on his lips died and his breath caught in his throat when he realized that she was right. He trembled a little and took an instinctive step back as he was overwhelmed by the memories he'd safely locked away since he came here, suppressing them so he could get the job done.

"Oh, honey," Dalia sounded heartbroken and took a step forward. "He died, didn't he? I know that look on your face from my own mirror after my Logan passed."

That was jarring enough to drag him back to the moment. "What. Your son is fine. He just walked off with his sister. He's not dead. And why would you compare us to you and your husband. No."

Dalia's smile was sad and she looked at him with those knowing eyes. "I may not be as powerful as you are, but I know magic. Forbidden magic is clinging to you like tar. Time-travel magic. You're from the future. That's why you knew Peter, Derek and Paige, knew their names, knew where they were. It's also why we're in my office to talk in private. I know time-travel is a… delicate issue. It is forbidden magic for a reason. I want to know what drove you to use it to come here and save my grandson's girlfriend. The way I see it, you are in an unfamiliar time, stranded because time-travel is a one-way street, and you are in need of allies. Let me be your ally, for helping my family."

Stiles stared at her for minutes, quietly. Cataloging all the little things about her that reminded him of Peter. Thinking about everything that had happened today and that had led up today. She was right. He was alone. He was all alone. He had lost everyone. Everything. Slowly, he sank down onto the chair opposite her desk and he broke down, telling her everything. Everything.

Paige's death that would have turned Derek's eyes blue and permanently altered his self-perception, allowing Kate to groom him. The Hale Fire. Laura abandoning the territory and Peter. Peter waking up from his coma and killing her. Feral Peter. Scott. Peter's death. Peter's resurrection. The pack Derek built. The kamina. Gerard. The Alpha Pack. The Darach. Derek giving up the Hale Alpha spark to save Cora's life. Malia. The Nogitsune. The Benefactor. Peter getting locked up for crimes in his head that someone else chose to commit. The Dread Doctors. The Ghost Riders. Gerard's return and the beginning of the end of the world as they knew it.

"The supernatural world was no longer a secret," Stiles' voice was broken and empty at that point, the look on his face haunted by the ghosts of those he lost. "And the humans reacted how they always react when they have a vulnerable group they deem wrong. They built camps. And they put us into those camps. I lost… touch… with most of our old pack, never learned what happened to them. The ones that were still alive at that point, anyway. Peter, Derek, Malia and I ended up in the same camp though. Peter killed an Alpha in the camp and we… we became a new attempt at the Hale Pack. Until that was taken from us too. We tried to escape, together. Derek… Derek never made it out, but he bought us time. Malia died next, when we were in over our heads being hunted. And… And Peter died last. He died in my arms. And I had nothing left to lose. We'd researched time travel spells before, but agreed the cost was too big. To sacrifice the person one loves most. He was already nearly dead, he wouldn't have survived anyway. I went back to save him. Save them."

Stiles averted his eyes, filled with guilt. He'd killed her son. Twice, technically. His hands were shaking, cheeks aching with the cold tears on them, eyes burning. They'd talked for hours. Well, he'd talked for hours. She had listened. Made tea multiple times between.

"And saving them started tonight," Dalia whispered gently. "Because Derek would have lost a part of himself. And you saved him from that. Thank you."

"He was my best friend," Stiles whispered, voice hallow as he remembered a different Derek. "And now he's a fifteen year old kid who never even met me."

"You went back to change the past, to save them. But what about you?"

Blinking slowly, Stiles turned his head to look at the sleeping fox still tucked into his hood, face resting on Stiles' shoulder. "The worst things that happened to me were done by Gerard and this one. I killed Gerard and I tamed the shadow fox."

Gerard had kidnapped and tortured Stiles, that had been the very first time all of this had directly physically impacted Stiles. He'd twisted Deucalion and led to the creation of the Alpha Pack, led to the death of Erica and Boyd. He'd exposed the supernatural and turned Beacon Hills into the ground zero of bigotry against the supernatural. Killing Gerard solved so many of his problems.

"I don't mean the you that is growing up in this time, I don't mean save him from becoming you. I mean you," Dalia gently poked him in the chest. "You came into town to check off points from your to-do-list and then, what? You wanted to leave again, come back when the next horrible thing will happen that you need to prevent? Will you make saving them your life's purpose?"

Stiles blinked large eyes at her. "Yes. I have nothing else left. I lost everything. I don't belong here. All I'm good for is prevent the people I love from suffering and dying."

Again with the heartbroken look. He hated that, because she had her son's eyes. When she looked at him like that, it felt like when Peter used to look at him like that. Stiles averted his eyes, but she cupped his cheek gently and made him look at her again.

"You survived," Dalia spoke firmly. "You deserve to actually live."

"I don't belong here," Stiles shook his head. "I don't have a place to belong here."

"But you do," Dalia looked so serious, so fierce. "You said it yourself. You're part of the Hale Pack. This is the Hale Pack. You went back in time to save your pack and to save my pack. You have a place in the Hale Pack. And you clearly have a bond with the Nemeton, even misplaced in time. Derek described what you did, before you and Peter arrived and interrupted his retelling."

Stiles paused at that and tilted his head. She wasn't wrong about the Nemeton. It had been a gamble, if he was being honest. He had ties to his Nemeton, but in theory, there should be a Spark in this time who should have ties to this Nemeton. Then again, while the Nemeton was the one to plant the magic Spark inside a chosen human, that magic only ignited when the Spark joined the local pack and formed a bond with an Alpha. Stiles had been the first Spark to join the Hale Pack in decades, because the pack had assumed the Nemeton dead. Cut down and drained. There was no active Spark in this time and the Nemeton had clearly accepted him as her Spark.

Stiles blinked at that realization and ran a shaky hand over his face. Crap. He had been so focused on saving Paige to save Derek, he hadn't considered the consequences. He'd accidentally become the guardian of this time's Nemeton. Heaving a sigh, he leaned back in his chair. Great.

"I can't stay here," Stiles frowned at her. "I live here. I mean, nine year old me lives here. Two guys named Stiles, with my distinct moles? Yeah, that's not a great idea."

"You're clever, something tells me you'll come up with a good solution for the both of you," Dalia smiled knowingly. "But you don't need to do that tonight. From what it sounds, you've had a very intense twenty-four hours and… very hard months. I'll show you to a bedroom. Take a shower, join the family for dinner and sleep in a guest room. You could use some meat on your bones."

"Yeah, this will come as a surprise, but internment camps don't exactly care about keeping their inmates well-fed. And being on the run didn't exactly give us time for regular meals either."

Stiles tensed when Dalia pulled him into a hug. She brushed his hair down and wrapped him up in warmth. It was such a mom hug that it brought tears to his eyes. That was all it took. He'd suppressed these tears for so many months now, trying to be strong, not allowing himself to cry over his losses because he couldn't afford to be weak and vulnerable like that, he needed to be strong so they could survive. And then they didn't survive. But in that moment, in Dalia's arms, he felt safe and he felt like he didn't need to be strong. He felt like he had as a little boy when his mom would hug him. Safe from anything that could possibly harm him. He started sobbing breathlessly, crying into her shoulder, clinging onto her and sobbing.

"It's going to be alright, dear," Dalia promised, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. "You suffered enough, you lost enough. You don't have to be alone anymore."

He desperately wanted her words to be true, but he knew they weren't. His Peter was dead. His pack was dead. Everyone he ever loved was dead and in this time, all he got were ghosts of the past who didn't even know him. They would get to live, would get to be happy, but he would never be a part of their lives. Not the way he had been in his own time.

Stiles sighed in defeat. "Fine, I'll take the shower, the meal and the bed for a night. But that's all."

/break\

Beacon Hills had a Spark. Peter found himself eager. He'd ever only read about Sparks. With the Nemeton cut down, their family had been convinced that they had no Sparks. And then this powerful, vicious little thing walked into the root-cellar, performed a minor miracle and slapped Peter in the face, calling him out for his behavior (though Peter had no idea how that boy could even know any of that). Needless to say, Peter was instantly fascinated.

Sadly, he had to sit through multiple hours of debriefing with his Alpha and Alpha Mate, as well as their Right Hand. Small mercies that they hadn't dragged it into the open with the whole pack.

"The Spark's still here," Aaron informed him casually when Peter wandered into the kitchen.

Peter paused and gave his younger brother a curious look. "Still? It's been hours."

"Mom's been talking to him. They haven't left her office yet. She kept the silencing rune on," Aaron replied. "Laura's been trying to listen in, but even werewolf hearing can't beat the runes."

Peter snorted at that. Laura had been getting more snoopy now that she was legally considered an adult. Like the day of her eighteenth birthday had flipped a switch and now she was so grown up. She was still a damn menace, but he adored her, so there was that.

"You're gonna try and seduce him aren't you?" Aaron accused him, eyes narrowed.

Peter raised his chin at the challenge. "What makes you think that? The brat walked in, loud and brash, slapped me in the face and put me before the inquisition."

"Don't call my wife, our sister and her husband the inquisition," Aaron snorted. "And besides, that sounds like your type. Not your hook-up type, you prefer the doe-eyed… wait, actually, he is also your hook-up type, doe-eyed twink and all. But the brash kind that doesn't take your shit? That's the kind you lose your heart to, Petey."

"Don't call me that," Peter wrinkled his nose. "And that's nonsense. I will not fall for him."

Aaron gave him the most incredulous look and Peter hated how well his little brother knew him. He couldn't deny that the little Spark was quite tempting, not just his power and attitude but also his physical appearance. Sure, he was about a decade younger than Peter, but that didn't brother Peter. As Aaron had just pointed out, he had a track-record of cute twinks. But usually, they were for fun. Having casual fun with the Spark of Beacon Hills would be a bad call. Still, he was intrigued.

/break\

Stiles cries some more in the shower. First hot shower he'd had in months. Peter must have been the one to buy products for the guest room, because the shampoo and body wash were Peter's brands. They smelt like Peter and Stiles felt overwhelmed with grief, covered in his mate's scent. His fingers dug into the pale, faint scars on the junction between his shoulder and neck. His mate-bite. Now that his mate was dead, it had faded into silver scars.

He was a widower without a grave to mourn at. He'd killed his own husband, to perform this spell. The look in Peter's eyes when he'd reassured Stiles that it would be alright, that it was the right decision… Stiles took a shaky breath as he tried to reign the tears in. Peter was dead.

Peter was dead and now Peter's mom wanted Stiles to live with them. Live in the same house as this young, bright-eyed Peter who wasn't his. Everything that Stiles and Peter had shared… Every research session, every snarky banter, every 'darling' and 'sweetheart'. Peter had been the one who'd made it possible for Lydia and Scott to break the possession. Peter had reminded everyone that Stiles existed when the Ghost Riders had taken them. Peter had protected him in the camp. Kissed him and held him and loved him when the world wanted to see them dead.

"Hey. Grandma said to bring you clothes. Derek's should fit, you're not that much older and you aren't taller than him either. I'm Laura. Dad's making dinner, grandma wants you to join us."

Stiles stood frozen in the guest bedroom, a towel around his waist as he stared at Laura Hale. Alive Laura Hale. For a moment, he saw a flash of her torn-apart, dead body, before he shook it off. Looking at her, Stiles was startled to realize that they must be about the same right right now.

"Uh. Thanks," Stiles took the clothes from her. "I'll be downstairs in a moment."

Laura nodded and then left the bedroom again. Taking a deep breath, Stiles got dressed. Losing Laura had been such a blow to Derek, Peter killing her had been like the final nail in the coffin of their relationship. It took them years to somewhat rekindle. And then they both died.

Shaking his head violently, Stiles straightened out the clothes and headed out of the bedroom and down the stairs. His steps faltered when he entered the kitchen and saw the entire Hale Pack, alive and together. Stiles' breath caught in his throat as he looked at them all. Peter was sitting at the table, snarking and arguing with a redheaded woman. The man next to her, who looked at her like she was the sun, must be Peter and Talia's younger brother. The man shared traits with both Peter and Derek, the sharp cheekbones and dark hair, his face looking a lot like Derek, but he had the same blue eyes as Peter. Derek sat a few seats over, together with Paige, holding her hand. Laura and two young girls were setting the table, one of them was Cora. The other, a redhead. If Stiles had to guess, he'd say was the daughter of Peter's brother and the redheaded woman.

The moment Stiles entered the kitchen, all conversation ceased and everyone turned to look at him, some more subtle, others very openly staring. Thankfully enough, the two loudly arguing women entering after him drew the attention away from him. Stiles turned to look at Dalia and Talia.

"You can't just bring a stranger into out pack house, mother."

"You make it sound like Peter dragged in a stray cat he found in a trash-can," Dalia argued, her eyebrows raised. "He is not a stranger, he is the Spark of Beacon Hills and they found him at our Nemeton, which, must I remind you, is a sacred place for druids like me. It's a sign."

"A sign," Talia sighed and shook her head. "We know nothing about him."

"And I am set to change that," Dalia smiled pleased. "Talia, he is the Spark of our territory. The Hales have worked with the Sparks of these lands for centuries."

"And he saved Paige's life," Derek added fiercely, holding his mother's gaze.

"No fighting during dinner," Derek's father declared. "And dinner is ready. So everyone, grab a plate, then sit down and we eat. Our guests included."

Dalia looked very pleased and stepped up to Stiles, resting a hand on his back. "Let me introduce you to our pack. My daughter Talia, our Alpha. The gentleman who cooked our meal is our Alpha Mate, Talia's husband Damon. You already met their son Derek and those are Derek's sisters Cora and Laura. These two are my sons Peter and Aaron. Aaron's wife Fiona, our pack's Right Hand. And this is Aaron and Fiona's daughter Sloan."

Stiles nodded. Finally faces to the names he had heard so much about. His heart ached.

"So why does grandma want him to stay?" Cora asked curiously when everyone sat down.

Stiles shifted his food around on his plate, wondering about that himself. He looked at Dalia.

"I plan on taking him as my apprentice, teach him to be an Emissary," Dalia's smile was foreboding. "Because the Spark of Beacon Hills should be the Emissary of the Hale Pack."

---

Author's note: This is my 50th Stetopher fic and my 150th Teen Wolf fic overall and these numbers coinciding meant I really had to do something special. I consider time-travel fix-it fics very special and I consider this - a fix-it that prevents the Hale Fire - something I never thought I would write. Because I never planned on making Hale OCs. And then I accidentally made Hale OCs. And particularly the love Dalia has been getting has encouraged me to work with them in a greater scale and write this. Now, I don't plan on just making it OC-centric, as you might have noticed by the list of canon characters. We're gonna fix so, so, so much and Stiles is gonna get to protect his pack, as small and non-pack as they are

Next up! Stiles has to come up with a new identity and solve the "two Stileses" problem