A/N: So...been gone for a long time. What can I say? Life's a bitch that likes to kick your ass and hand it to you. Anyways...I tried to make up for my absence with a longer chapter. Next chapter you guys will see their plan unfold, awesome kickass Spark Stiles, and a little bit of what's going on back in Beacon Hill. And...I don't know what else. We'll see. Also, thank you for those who reviewed and took the time to leave a comment.

"The gun brothers?" Argent asked from the other end.

"Yeah, the gun brothers. 'Cause their last name is Winchester," Stiles said holding onto the phone while simultaneously flipping through pages of research.

"Wait! Winchester?! As in Sam and Dean Winchester? Sons of John Winchester?" Argent rapidly asked in disbelief. He had been sitting at his desk when Stiles had called, but now he was on his feet.

"Ummmmm, I don't know," Stiles adjusted the phone away from his mouth and turned towards Sam and Dean "hey guys, is your dad John Winchester?"

"Yeah," Sam responded while Dean shot him a quizzical look.

"Huh…yup, that's their dad. You know him?" Stiles sounded amused.

Argent scoffed "Know him? There is no hunter alive that doesn't know who the Winchesters are."

"Really? Sooooo….does that mean you'll do it?"

Silence is what followed

"Hellooooo…"

More silence

"What do you need?" Argent demanded.

Stiles made a "not bad" face and nodded before he turned around and gave Dean the thumbs up.

Dean responded with a smirk before Stiles started rattling off the things they needed, "First, definitely going to need some flash bolts, Wolfsbane laced bullets, some sort of electroshock weapon, infrared goggles, and ultrasonic emitters."

Stiles conveyed as much information as he could and after a long lecture from Argent about the dangers of hunting, he finally hanged up, turning towards the brothers, "so…someone is terrified of you guys."

His comment was answered by two identical puzzled looks.

"As soon as I said your last name he clammed up. I'm pretty sure I could have asked for the guy's underwear and he would have shipped it over…with overnight delivery!" Stiles exclaimed, eyes wide.

Dean and Sam looked at each other and back at Stiles in silence.

"Anything you guys want to tell me?" Stiles prodded, "No? Nothing at all? Really?"

Sam squirmed, "it's kind of a long story."

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Argent had sent him over to a couple of hunter friends that he had around the area. They had all the supplies they needed, which worked out well since Dean didn't want to call up Cas just for a supply run. His words being "he's not our own personal transportation."

The brothers had filled Stiles in on their many "adventures" that resulted in their "oh so memorable" reputation on their way to the hunter's base. Stiles went from shocked, sad, entranced, happy, confused, and back to sad. To say he had a billion questions was an understatement. Unfortunately, they had barely scratched the surface when they finally pulled up to a two story house in a thickly wooded area.

"Well, this is it," Dean said as he put the car in park.

When they all got out they stood in front of the house not knowing exactly how to proceed. Stiles took a deep breath, "here goes nothing."

They weren't really sure what to expect from these hunters, but their unwillingness to do anything was an astonishment. Neima, their leader, was even scarier than Victoria—if that was even possible. Matt, her husband, was no bundle of joy either. Clearly there was some power struggle going on for every time Neima held back information, Matt supplied it (like a challenge). Apparently, they knew a lot about the Alpha, but had some sort of long haul game plan that they were clearly unwilling to share. Though they did let them in on the fact that the Alpha was turning random people and discarding those that were not strong enough. That's why they were turning feral. With no one there to guide them and being abandoned by their Alpha, they became wild omegas.

Fed up with Neima's and Matt's back and forth Stiles finally snapped, "Well whatever you're going to do, it needs to happen now! And it needs to happen fast!"

Thankfully, Sam interjected before Stiles was completely engulfed with frustration, "look, I know you're reluctant to help us, but if we wait any longer, more people are going to get hurt."

Dean nodded in agreement, "if you don't want to help us because of whatever future plan you've got, then fine. Just give us what we need to take care of it ourselves."

When the hunters didn't respond, Stiles chimed in, "do you really want more people dead? They killed a kid. If any more kids die, their deaths will be in your hands."

Neima's looked affronted, while Matt's face twisted in guilt. Still they said nothing.

"If you do nothing and more people die, then you're just as bad as them," Sam said, trying to get a reaction out of them. He had caught on to what Stiles was doing. He was trying to guilt them into action or to at least give them the supplies they needed.

"They've got a point," a voice called out from the other side of the doorway that separated the living room from the kitchen.

Stiles twisted around in time to see a tall guy stride in. He had short blond hair that was styled in that messy look and brown eyes. He looked fit and Stiles took note as he shamelessly stared at his exposed biceps. Though he quickly snapped out of his stupor when he saw the guy wink at him with a cocky grin plastered on his ridiculously chiseled jaw line.

"And you would be…?" Dean raised a questioning brow.

"James," the man nodded.

"Come on mom, you know we should help. The killings are increasing. What if it gets worse?" James pleaded with Neima as he took a seat across Stiles.

Her face instantly softened at her son's tone, "We can't spare the man power right now."

"But," she paused and continued after a moment, "if you want to help them, you can give them the weapons they need and perhaps help them formulate a plan?"

James nodded in agreement.

"Great, another kid," Dean muttered under his breath.

"Hey!" both Stiles and James protested at the same time.

"I can assure you that James has been properly trained. What he lacks in field experience, he more than makes up for it with talent," Neima explained as James preened.

"Come on. I'll show you guys downstairs," James stood up and gestured for the boys to follow him.

"Uh…downstairs? No offense, but last time I was in a basement it didn't end so well. Maybe I'll just wait here," Stiles twitched.

"Oh, it's more than a basement. Trust me, you're gonna want to see this," James said with that cocky grin of his.

Stiles still looked unsure until Dean gave him a nod, "Don't worry kid. I've got you."

Stiles bit his lower lip and gave a curt nod as he stood to follow them.

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"Whoa, dude you've got an underground lair?" Dean looked around like a child being introduced to a new toy.

Stiles wasn't any better, "it's like the bat cave."

Sam just rolled his eyes at them before sighing in defeat, "it is pretty impressive."

So it turns out this basement wasn't really a basement, but more like an underground training facility. The area expanded under the whole perimeter of the house. The walls were lined with shelves full of random contraptions and weapons. The first half had two connecting tables with blueprints, mechanical parts, partially built weapons, and of course Wolfsbane. The far end of the facility was dedicated to physical training. There were mats set on the floor and targets for shooting.

James just stood there, gauging their responses with a smug smirk. He then began to walk around the facility rattling off names of things Stiles had no idea what they were, let alone what they did. Though Sam and Dean seemed to understand most of it. They all started to bond over the vast collection of weapons and Stiles began to feel a little left out. He was beginning to get bored when James finally started talking about werewolves.

"A lot of the ones I've encountered have no tact. Barely any humanity left in them. That's why I actually respect those that learn control. It takes a lot of will power to tamp down the wolf," James explained.

"Sounds like you know a lot of them," Sam said.

"Not really. I did date one once though," James trailed off.

"How'd your parents take that one?" Stiles asked. He remembered how Argent went psycho on Scott for dating Allison. Thankfully his father was more understanding about the werewolf part, but less on the whole Derek being that said werewolf.

James winced, "not well. Especially when they found out he was an Alpha."

"Ooo," Stiles cringed.

"Yeah…" James responded.

"What's this for?" Dean asked holding up a glowing, pulsating metal ball.

"Don't touch that! Please put it back down," James rushed towards Dean before he hurriedly added, "gently!"

"What is it?" Dean asked worriedly as he slowly set it back down. His arms were stretched trying to get the contraption as far away from himself as possible.

"It's kinda like a flash bolt and an ultrasonic emitter rolled up into one," James exhaled in relief when Dean finally set the weapon down, "I've been working on it for months."

"You made it?" Sam sounded astonished.

James nodded, "yeah, I'm in charge of our weapons engineering."

Sam's eyes bugged out in response. He couldn't believe this kid was in charge of actually making the weapons.

"But you're just a kid," Dean said. Apparently he agreed with what Sam was thinking.

"Dude, I'm 19," James looked offended.

Dean held his hands up in mock surrender.

"First things first. We gotta come up with a plan. Preferably one in which you all don't die," James grinned sarcastically while pointedly staring Dean down.

Stiles raised his hand from across the room where he was messing with a cattle prong "Oh, I've actually got a plan. Well…more like part of a plan."

"Great," Sam's voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"Would you put that down before you hurt yourself kid," Dean warned as he snatched the cattle prong away from Stiles just as it went off.

"Uh…" was all Stiles could say while Dean was giving him the bitch face.

"So what's this plan of yours?" James asked, clearly trying to contain his laughter.

Stiles straightened up, "okay, here's what I was thinking: we set up trip wires with booby traps along their hunting grounds and lead them to a final trap using ultrasonic emitters and flash bolts. Hey, maybe we can use that glowy ball thingy. Bye the way, you should really make up a cool name for it, like—"

"Stiles, back on point here," Sam said trying to reel him back in.

"Right. So after we have them trapped, we turn them back and presto," Stiles clapped his hands together.

"What exactly do you mean by 'presto'?" James inquired.

"You're gonna do the same thing you did to the banshee," Sam accused as he quickly got to his feet. His eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head and Dean didn't look any better.

"You barely made it out alive last time," Dean said as he advanced on Stiles.

"Guys, calm down. I was fine. Plus Deaton has been helping me with control. Don't get me wrong, it's been hard keeping it all a secret but—" Stiles tried to explain with his hands up in front of him.

Dean quickly cut him off, "FINE?! Stiles! You were anything but fine!"

"It wasn't that bad," Stiles muttered.

"Your heart stopped Stiles," Sam looked down on Stiles, "if it hadn't been for Ca—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Can someone please fill me in on what's going on?" James interjected as he inserted himself between the brothers and Stiles.

"Did you kill a banshee?" James asked Stiles incredulously.

"What? Kill? Of course not," Stiles looked offended, "I just took her powers away."

"Just took her powers away?" James repeated.

"Yeah," Stiles stated.

"And how exactly did you do that? What are you a Spark or something?" James asked skeptically.

Stiles nodded and responded with a long drawn out, "yes."

James' whole body tensed and he was quiet for a long time. He began to see Stiles in a different light and it showed. He looked him up and down with pure amazement written all over his face. He took a deep shaky breath before he finally spoke, "I-I've never met a Spark."

"So," Dean cleared his throat uncomfortably, "not a terrible plan you got there Stiles, but how do you plan on leading the wolves towards the traps?"

"Ah," Stiles said with raised eyebrows, "that's the easy part…bait!"

"Bait? As in you?" James asked with disbelief, "Exactly how powerful are you?"

"No, not him. Me. Just like last time," Dean dipped his head towards Sam as a gesture of agreement.

"You?" James looked at Dean like he was crazy.

"Yeah, me. I can handle myself. This isn't my first rodeo kid," Dean returned James' gaze with an exasperated sigh.

"Well… I guess if anyone can pull it off, it would be a Winchester," James said as he turned around to pull out what looked like maps from one of the table drawers.

"Alright," Stiles said as he looked down on the maps, "let's get to plotting."

Dean rolled his eyes when he saw Stiles rubbing his hands together like he was a scheming evil genius. Yet again…he supposed he kind of was, in his own way.