Disclaimer: I own neither wolves nor hunters – only a red hoodie.

No Fate

He stands alone, surrounded by bodies, and howls. Oh, not a true howl, no, because he is still human, but it is still as compelling. Still carries the same amount of rage and sorrow and desire for revenge as if he'd been a wolf.

But there are no wolves left to howl. No one left to let the sky and the moon and the world hear the pain and grief and loss of the Hale pack. There is only Stiles. Again.

When his throat is raw and his voice nearly gone he falls to his knees, silent. Allows the rage to flow through him, to burn, removing the sorrow and leaving only hatred. It's been hours, he thinks, when he finds his center again. It's hard, harder than it's been in years, and Stiles doesn't know if he can do it again. If he can live through this again.

He has been here, in a way – in so many ways – too many times over the last five years. At least he thinks it's been five years. It's hard to tell how much time passes as you hop through it, going back over and over and over.

This time the end is worse than it's ever been. Around him lies every single wolf, no: every single individual connected to the Hale pack. There, Scott. Next to him Isaac. Over by that tree, Deaton. Behind him Melissa McCall and John Stilinski. (He doesn't allow himself to see the body as his father. He can't.)

In front of Deaton are the new members, the ones he'd never met in any of the other time-lines. And next to Stiles, close enough to touch... Derek.

There are other bodies as well, but Stiles doesn't care about them. He's happy that they are dead. This is all their fault, after all. Has been their fault every single time.

He's tried to change fate, has tried over and over again to keep this from happening, to keep the Hale pack alive. To keep Scott, and Derek, alive. Every single time he has failed. He's gone back to change every little detail possible, and this, this was his final shot. There are no more variables to play with. There is nothing more he can change about that day when Victoria Argent died.

But that's his answer, isn't it? Yes, there's nothing more he can change about that day. Maybe, just maybe, there's something he can change some other day.

Stiles is aware of the dangers, of the consequences, but. He's been backed into a corner. There is literally nothing else he can do except the one thing he's been told from the beginning not to do. The blood on his hands, however, tells him something else. Derek's blood on his hands tells him differently.

He knows what to do. Knows how to do it. Knows the cost, even. He doesn't care, not any more.

Stiles reaches out, touches Derek one more time, and then stands up and strides across the field. Allison is barely recognizable, her body burned and broken by Stiles's magic. (Good, something inside him whispers.) She is the only woman not Hale pack though, and so he grabs the corpse and drags it back to Derek, to Stiles' power center.

The magic he works is part spell, part ritual, part wish borne by righteous fury. He works it in her blood, and knows it will give him the opportunity he needs long before anything happens. He knows it, because he cannot allow anything else to be true.

As Stiles is ripped once more through the fabric of time he swears that this will be the last time the Argents will kill the Hale pack. No matter what it takes.

The past becomes the future, and the future becomes unwritten again, as Stiles fights to write a new one.

~ jump ~ jump ~ jump ~

He shows up outside an apartment building. Luckily. He had no idea how close exactly the spell would place him to his target and had, for a few seconds, feared he'd end up right in front of her. He's good, good enough to take out his target, but only under the right circumstances. Hint: those are not when disoriented and suffering from time jetlag. Nor are they when the other person spots him first.

He can't afford to make mistakes now. There's too much riding on this. Everything is riding on this. He needs a solid plan, not just righteous fury, as well as supplies and information.

The first thing he needs is to find out where he is, and when. It will be the right location – the blood used ensures that, Argent blood calling to Argent blood – but where is still important. "When" is trickier. It should be okay, but he's not putting too much stock in "should" these days, hasn't for a long time.

A discarded paper tells him that he's in LA (or that someone dragged an LA paper here and ditched it) and that he's arrived sometime no more than three months before the Hale fire. A quick search of his memories narrows it down further – Derek first met Kate Argent six weeks before she murdered his family, and no reports placed her in Beacon Hills earlier than that.

Okay. He can work with that. His resources are limited, because while his belongings travel with him it's only the ones in direct contact to his body. (He'd learned this the hard way.) That gives him three knives, some wolf's-bane, his clothes, some money – and two small bottles of blood. It might be enough.

It has to be enough.

He trades two of the knives for a gun in a pawnshop – and so what if he uses a little persuasion of the magical kind, it's for a good cause – and hands over most of his cash in exchange for three test tubes. Sometimes the tried and tested plans are the best – even if they aren't his.

In the end it's easy and fast – too fast – and he leaves the apartment feeling disappointed that she didn't suffer more. If anyone deserved to suffer, surely it was Kate Argent. But, in order for this to work it needed to be a clean killing. She should feel grateful, Stiles supposes, that he looks at the bigger picture.

He still wishes he could have used her own methods on her, tortured her like she tortured Derek and countless others.

The next step includes using one of the bottles of blood to transport him. It takes a lot out of him, as "when" is so much more important this time, and his quickly deteriorating focus suffers even more. Losing his pack does this, every time. Losing everyone...means losing parts of himself. Breaking the rules of the spell, of the jump however...

It's beyond bad. And so he needs to succeed this time, because there will be no more chances. There will be nothing left of Stiles Stilinski, son, friend, packmate. Soon he promises his aching body and his trembling, breaking core. Soon.

In a much too lavish bathroom in France his magic and one of those test tubes turns a bottle of pills from something meant to save a life into something meant taking one. It's cliché, he knows, and he can't believe he's stealing a plan from Scott of all people, but it worked back then. Will have worked, in the future that never comes.

(That hopefully never comes. Killing Kate Argent should put a stop to most of the pain of the coming years – but it might not, and that's why he isn't stopping. Why he's going to get more and more blood on his hands.)

Also it makes him feel connected to his best friend, makes him feel a little less lonely. Being lonely...is not good for Stiles. These days it's not good for the people around him either. Really not.

It's not mountain ash this time, since Stiles can't ensure a Bite, but instead the most aggressive cancer cells he could get his hands on. Encouraged by a bit of magic they'll combine with what's already in Gerard's system and kill him so much faster. Stiles hopes it'll be more painful as well. He hopes Gerard will die in agony.

The last of the blood takes him back across the globe, to an unfamiliar feminine bedroom. He takes a few minutes to send out feelers – he hasn't been detected, good – and take in his surroundings.

There's nothing remarkable about the room, and more importantly: no weapons laying around. There's a lot of books though, and Stiles can't help the smile that crosses his face when he looks at the titles. So much fantasy. Oh, and Romeo and Juliet. He snorts, quietly. He bets she still thinks it's a romantic story. She'll learn differently – or maybe she won't.

She looks so innocent like this, and for the first time in what feels like forever he remembers the Allison he first met. Not the crazed hunter, not the cold blooded murderer, but the sweet girl that made up Scott's entire world. For the first time since leaving the battlefield he regrets what's going to happen. Not enough to stop it though. Never enough for that.

He should feel horrible – he is, after all, on a killing spree. He's about to kill an eleven year old girl that he once called his friend. He knows he should, he just...doesn't. Any compassion, any mercy, Stiles might once have felt for Allison Argent has long since been burned out of him (leaving an empty spot much like the Hale house) and all that's left is his need to stop the future from coming to pass.

Stiles isn't just influenced by the latest set of events – the massacre he left behind to come here – though that certainly hasn't helped Allison's case any. No. It had been a long road.

Allison might have been a friend once, might have been innocent, but Allison Argent had become the evil he measured all others against. She'd killed, tortured, hunted. She'd become, in some time-lines, an animal worse than the ones she'd claimed werewolves to be.

Stiles rests his hand against his thigh, unerringly finding the scar hidden beneath his clothes. That scar – and what else came of the day he got it – had been the starting point for all of this...

~ jump ~ jump ~ jump ~

He parks his battered – not broken though, never broken, she's tougher than that, his baby – jeep outside the Hale house, feeling a little creeped out. This is not one of his favorite places, not even disregarding the fact that he'd helped set someone on fire here. Still, he has things to talk to Derek about, news he think the Alpha needs to hear, and this is where Derek spends most of his time these days.

Stiles can sort of understand the decision to rebuild – there has to be good memories here as well as bad, and anything has to be better than staying in the abandoned station – he just doesn't understand it. It's not his call though, and he's not required to live here, so he lets it go. For now.

He only makes it three steps inside the door before his internal alarms goes off. The last few months have taught Stiles to listen to those warnings, and so he stops and tries to get a feel for what could be setting them off.

"Stiles, get out."

It's a weak moan that he can (too) easily identify as belonging to Derek. The Alpha sounds awful. Like he's dying – and yes, Stiles does happen to have first hand experience with how that sounds. Of course, unlike any kind of sane person Stiles doesn't get out. Instead he moves towards Derek's voice, grumbling quietly about saving all their wolfy asses again and again.

He doesn't get far before a shape appears from the dark. He can't see well enough to identify whoever it is – he just knows it's not Derek. So he tries to be smart, and run, but it's too late.

A shot is fired, his thigh burns, and he falls down. Footsteps close in and his heart races. Is this where he dies? On a dirty floor, taken out by something as human as a bullet? The irony makes him want to laugh.

And then everything goes black.

When he comes to he's lying in a pool of his own blood, thigh sloppily wrapped with his plaid shirt. Without that he might have bled out while unconscious, but it's bad enough as it is. And then there's Derek. Derek, who's lying only a few feet away, much too still.

Stiles drags himself over to confirm that the Alpha is dead – there's no room for hope, not when he can tell even from a distance that whoever it was used wolf's-bane. The black stripes on Derek's skin, the pools of black vomit...

He throws up as well, angling his body away from Derek's to avoid tainting any evidence, and pulls out his phone. He should call his dad, or the ambulance – he needs it – but it's still Scott's number he dials. They – because naturally Isaac is with him – start running at once, and Stiles decides to give them a ten minute head start before calling 911. He spends those minutes searching for clues, but only finds one thing: tiny scratches in the floor next to Derek's lifeless hand, forming an "A".

It could mean a lot of things of course, but the most logical interpretation given all the facts is "A" for Argent – no matter how much Stiles wants to believe otherwise. The scariest part is that he can't even make himself believe that if it's an Argent behind this it will prove to be Mr Argent, not Allison. He knows.

He passes out during his 911 call – he maybe waited a little too long to make it – and goes back and forth into oblivion during the better part of a day. Once he comes to he finds out that things have changed even more when he was out of it – and it's all for the worse.

Peter had inherited the Alpha position, not surprisingly, and Scott, equally not surprisingly, had refused to accept this. Somehow he'd talked Isaac into following his lead, and together they'd taken out Peter.

Stiles...understands. Creeper Wolf hadn't been anyone's first choice as an Alpha, and they'd all been happy to see him gone that first time. At the same time he wants to strangle Scott for being a selfish, thoughtless idiot. Killing Peter hasn't changed Scott back, just as Stiles has suspected all along, but it has made him the new Alpha. And well, Scott is a lot of things, but ready for that? No.

Scott is also not who Stiles wants in charge with the Alpha pack threatening to descend on them. He has a lot of positive qualities, but those are not exactly of any use in what might become a war.

Finally there's the question of numbers. Simple math should tell anyone that three wolves (with Jackson having left, and Erica and Boyd still gone) makes for a stronger pack than two. The Beacon Hills pack have just gone from being at a severe disadvantage to being a joke.

He just wishes Scott had waited for him to wake up before doing something so rash, but that's Scott for you. Now all they can do is pray that they still get out of this alive.

Isaac makes it a week. His mangled body is left as a message for Scott, taunting him. Scott is left alone, with strikes around him instead of directly against him, for a month. He talks about trying to contact the Argents, who left town the day of the shooting, asking them for help now that the Hales are gone, but never follows through.

Stiles knows why – Isaac had confirmed that Allison had been present the day Derek died. Her scent had been faint, but it had been there, spread throughout the house – and most damningly, on Stiles.

Allison did this. Allison shot him, Allison killed Derek and Allison is responsible, in Stiles' eyes, for what happens now.

Scott might not want to admit it, but he can't deny it either – even if he tries.

When the Alpha pack comes for Scott Stiles doesn't try to be a hero. He runs, and he hides. He'll never be able to get rid of what he sees, his best friend being ripped to pieces. The killing blow is delivered by the same guy Stiles had come to talk to Derek about that day – the one he'd seen with Allison.

Beacon Hills becomes a war zone after that, and Stiles spends everyday in fear for his and his dad's lives. In a move borne by desperation Stiles goes looking for answers, hoping to be able to defend those he loves. He renews his efforts to put the pieces of the puzzle together, trying to figure out what happened, what went wrong.

And once the picture clears... The next step is obviously thinking about how to change it.

The answer comes from something so ridiculous that had Stiles of days past brought it up, Scott would have laughed and Derek would have growled. (He would have given anything for them to be there to do so now, but.) Stiles is engaging in brainless channel-flipping, worn out from research, when an old movie catches his eye. This might be it, he thinks. This could really be it.

Sure, it's not the fate of humanity in the balance, but. Stiles thinks it's his humanity, and it's definitely the fate of Beacon Hills – or, as people have begun to call it, Beacon Hells.

He recruits Deaton, who is surprisingly willing to try and change things. (Stiles suspects it has to do with Scott's death, since Deaton's always shown a weakness there. He stops himself from outright thinking Deaton wouldn't help otherwise – it's more than possible, but if it is so, then Stiles really doesn't want to know.)

Deaton works on the theoretical part, trying to find the right spells and getting all the pieces into place. Stiles on his part comes up with one crazy idea after the other – that have a one in four rate when it comes to working, thank you very much – and works on building up his magical strength. When push comes to shove, he's the one who's going to have to power this.

At first they work side by side, then through emails – after Stiles is shipped off for the sake of his safety – and finally through Deaton's journals and notes. In the end Stiles still isn't sure it's going to work, but he's running out of time ("Remember, you can't go back too far") and so he decides to take the chance anyway. It's his best friend's life on the line here. Stiles would rather try and fail than fail because he waited too long.

As the spell takes hold of him, Stiles focuses with everything he has, picturing that night when everything started to go wrong, and lets go. He jumps and the world changes around him.

~ jump ~ jump ~ jump ~

(The first jump had been the hardest, and the easiest. He'd been so positive – so damn naïve, he corrects himself – and he'd actually thought he could change the future without breaking a sweat.

He's broken a lot of things along the way, sweat included. It has never worked.)

He appears outside the warehouse that had hosted the rave – that apparently is hosting a rave right that minute. Huh. Stiles sneaks around the building, and there he is, well current him, next to Derek. Damn. He'd hoped he'd arrive earlier than this, that he would have been able to change things enough for Scott to not be there, for Melissa to not talk to Victoria Argent... Anything. He hadn't planned for this, and now he doesn't know what to do.

He panics.

Finding a way inside the building is easy this time, with the use of magic, and avoiding being seen not that hard. Besides, he hasn't changed that much, appearance wise, which means that anyone who spots him will just think it's current him.

In fact, that's exactly what Scott thinks, and Stiles uses that to drag his best friend – always, always – out of the way and send him home.

Only it doesn't work.

Victoria spots them, and goes after Scott. She runs him down, and douses him with wolf's-bane to keep him from healing, and keeps watch until it's too late.

Stiles doesn't stay to watch the fall-out. Instead he gathers his power, swears to do better through clamped teeth and tears, and jumps.

~ jump ~ jump ~ jump ~

He's been over this so many times now, and nothing he's done has changed the outcome, making him more than a little desperate. Looking at himself, at current him, and Derek something inside Stiles breaks a little as he tries something new, something he swore he'd never do.

He pours his belief into the ring of mountain ash.

He can feel his current self's presence, an unsteady such, weak in comparison to his own trained will. The reverse is not true, he knows, because this is – was – the first time he uses his magic. This is where his spark goes from possibility to reality. And current him doesn't know how to make heads or tails of it, doesn't know what's him and what's something else.

It's so damn obvious, the exact moment when current him notices that something is wrong, that the barrier won't break. His panic grows, infects Derek, who is looking more and more tortured for every minute that passes. Scott is howling inside – is dying – and Derek can't help him.

It pains Stiles to do this, not just to Scott and current him, but to Derek as well. The agony on the Alpha's face will haunt him, brings tears to his eyes, but he doesn't know what else to do. He's running out of alternatives.

Stiles can tell when Scott's howls die out from how Derek's body almost collapses, when current him understands. It's not until then that he gives up on trying to break the barrier, that the possibility of going after Scott himself hits and he takes off running, leaving a broken and grieving Alpha behind.

Derek tries to grab current him, to stop him, but the boy is too fast, too lucky – too desperate – and Derek is too hampered by the pain of losing a pack member. All Stiles wants to do is go to him – he feels the draw, the need, and realizes with a start that this is his Alpha, that somehow he's begun seeing Derek as his Alpha – but instead he stays hidden.

He keeps the barrier up, no matter how much it hurts him to do so, and doesn't drop it until Erica and Isaac come out. They look haunted, and Erica is sobbing. He can't hear them, not from his hideout, but the way Isaac looks as he shakes his head says it all.

Scott is dead.

Stiles has officially killed his best friend.

He just prays that it will be worth it.

The pack is shaken by Scott's death, as is practically everyone else. (Stiles is pretty sure the Argents are quietly celebrating though, with the exception of Allison.) He knows he shouldn't, knows it'll be even harder if he does, but Stiles can't stop himself from watching the funeral. It's heartbreaking.

He stays around, of course, to see what happens. He watches everyone, or tries to. He fails.

Allison is hurting so much, and it pains him to look at her, to listen to her crying. He never wanted this for her, has tried to change the world for her too – but he can't have her go insane again.

Except she does.

He misses it when she makes her move and has to scramble to try and keep up, try and stop her. He's woefully behind. And so he goes straight to the ruins of the Hale house instead of trying to track her, hoping she'll be keeping to the pattern of torturing Derek there.

She is, just not in the way he's expecting.

The house is on fire.

Fuck.

He sees someone – maybe her, maybe not – in front of the burning building, clearly gloating or standing guard. Or both, he guesses. So he avoids attention and goes in through the tunnel. And yes, it turns out to be the right decision, because that's Derek's voice, calling his name.

Calling...his name? Oh shit.

He loses all self restraint and just runs for it. He shouldn't allow himself to be seen, never does, because everyone knows that's like, the Prime Directive of time travel, but that's his Alpha calling his name and he can't not.

Especially not since Derek shouldn't be able to pick up his scent, not over the fire and the smoke, meaning that's most likely current him Derek's screaming at/for, and...

Barging into the basement he's met by a scene that makes him grateful lunch was a long time ago. His current self is there, alright, chained to a wall and (hopefully) unconscious.

And Derek... Derek is on the other side of the room and has torn. his. hand. off. in his fight to reach Stiles, to free him. He's started on the other hand too, which, well... How does he expect to help Stiles without hands? Rip the chains off with his teeth?

And yeah, so that's not appropriate, but he can't keep his head from trying to distract himself by any means possible.

Derek is half feral, and for the first time in (probably) years Stiles is scared of him. The wolf holds himself back though, once he's identified Stiles (even if his shock and curiosity is obvious) and just spits out an order through his teeth. "Get him out." Like sure, as if he'd do anything but?

Stiles doesn't argue, just moves across the room on shaking legs and (without looking at himself, because that shit is just too weird) explodes the lock. Catching himself – nope, no less weird – he turns towards the werewolf.

One more burst of magic – but it's a lot harder this time, the magic's weaker than it's been in a long time, demanding more of him, making his head swim and spin, and Stiles can't understand why – and Derek's free as well. Together they drag current Stiles out through the tunnel.

It's...not good. Seriously, he's got such a bad feeling about this. Current him isn't moving, and he always moves, and there's a trickle of blood by his ear. Add the smoke, and yeah. Not looking good.

Once they're free of the tunnel, and the choking smoke, Stiles stops and places the limp body of his current self on the ground. Derek half falls, half sits down next to him. He's bleeding heavily, and Stiles pulls of his shirt with shaking hands to wrap the fabric around Derek's ha– what used to be Derek's hand. He wonders briefly if that'll heal, and how much, anything to distract himself from how bad things has become.

"There's something wrong. His breathing, and his pulse... There's blood too, more than what's visible." Internal bleeding then. Really not good.

Derek looks up at him, so very serious that it's scary and Stiles feels his heart stutter.

"I don't think he's going to make it. What do you want to do?"

Oh. I – he – I'm dying? That would explain things, such as how his focus and strength and magic is rapidly deteriorating, and... Current him must be what's anchoring him to this time, meaning–

"Stiles! He's– You're dying. Focus. What. Do. You. Want?" Derek is losing his patience. It's...understandable, he guesses. "I can give him, you, the Bite. Do you want me to?"

Does he? Becoming a werewolf is not something he's actually ever wanted, but this isn't really him. Plus, well, dying. That puts things into a completely different perspective.

"Yes."

He makes the jump at the very last moment, body barely holding together and Derek's words echoing through his mind. "I trust you, Stiles. Don't let this happen again. And if you need me, I'll always protect you."

(Maybe he's not the only one thinking of Derek as his Alpha.)

~ jump ~ jump ~ jump ~

He hits the ground running. None of the changes he's tried so far has worked, and he needs to try something new. Something that won't end up killing anyone.

It doesn't work. Nothing he does works.

When Stiles lands on the other side of his next jump there's still an arrow sticking out of his shoulder.

~ jump ~ jump ~ jump ~

The time-line he ends up in scares the shit out of him.

It goes wrong from the beginning, with Stiles landing wrong and knocking himself out. By the time he comes to, it's the next morning and too late to stop anything. Victoria has tried to kill Scott, Derek has bitten her, and the kanima has escaped. It's all exactly the same as what happened the first time – with one exception.

Victoria Argent hasn't killed herself.

That's good, or should be good, but something about it gives Stiles a Very Bad Feeling, making him keep his eyes and ears open. (There's also the fact that he and Deaton always thought that once Stiles's purpose was fulfilled and the time-lines changed, he's simply cease to exist. And he's still there.)

The problem is that Stiles watches Scott, and Allison, and this time it's not them being the key players. He misses everything. Instead of Gerard talking Victoria into killing herself, he talks her into killing Derek, and becoming the Alpha – thereby becoming a better weapon for the hunters.

After that all it takes to get Scott to fall in line is the promise of Allison. The Argents agree to keep Allison out of the hunting, and to not interfere with the relationship between the two, if Scott joins Victoria's pack. Stiles just knows it won't end well.

He stays, hidden, for months – a year almost, doing research and spying. Gerard's plan is...horrifying.

Victoria might be the Alpha, and the nominal lead of the Argent family, but Gerard is the one actually in control. He's got his metaphorical claws deep into Victoria's soul, and she doesn't even notice it. The same goes for Scott, who turns darker and darker for every dirty deed the Argents have him perform.

Between Scott and the kanima – because this time there's no fight to save Jackson, since all the people who would are either dead or side-lined – Gerard has two efficient assassins, and the Argents kill more supernatural beings in those months than they have in years. (Stiles knows this, after overhearing Chris talking to Victoria.) If they also kill plain humans... Well, Stiles has no proof. He's got a fuck-ton of circumstantial evidence though.

Of course, there's more to Gerard's plan than just hunting. A lot more. The old bastard waits until Victoria has adjusted, gets her to give him the Bite, and then kills her, taking the Alpha power for himself.

Once that happens Stiles knows they're done for. Victoria was crazy as fuck, and bigoted as hell, but Gerard? That man is as close to the devil as Stiles has ever known. In an act of desperation Stiles breaks into the house and searches Gerard's study. What he finds makes him violently ill.

Gerard is planning on using Scott to breed Allison, and then use the children for experimentation, and as weapons. Once he's gotten what he needs from Scott, Allison will become a widow.

And there is nothing Stiles can do to change this time-line, because Scott will never let him. Not with how happy Scott is right now. Not with how deep Gerard's hooks are in his soul.

Stiles takes the next jump there and then.

~ jump ~ jump ~ jump ~

He's found a way to arrive a little earlier, in a different location. By honing in on Scott, using blood and hair and their connection, Stiles gets to him before he enters the warehouse. Scott's wolfy senses are no match for Stiles's wile and magic, and it's much too easy to sneak up on his best friend. Knocking him out too.

Leaving him unconscious and tied up, hidden from all but the sharpest eyes – and noses – feels wrong, but it's for Scott's own good. Stiles comforts himself with the knowledge that this way Scott won't be meeting Victoria Argent tonight.

He underestimates Victoria's blood-thirst though.

When Stiles puts the pieces together later it goes something like this: Scott wakes up, frees himself and eventually returns home. Only, Victoria is waiting for him. She catches him by surprise and kills him, using the wolf's-bane vaporizer. When Melissa McCall stumbles upon them, she too is killed, to keep her from calling the police.

Current Stiles finds out about Victoria from Derek, and together they take her out. And that in return triggers Allison. It's bloody, and violent, and Derek gets between current Stiles and an arrow, giving him the time to run. He succeeds too, as evidenced by the fact that Stiles doesn't feel the loss of strength that he's learned comes with his current self being mortally wounded. Derek...doesn't.

By the time Stiles has managed to arrange a rescue Allison has tortured Derek within an inch of his sanity, as well as killed Isaac and Erica. When Stiles breaks down the door he's met by not only that view, but the insanity that shines out of Allison's eyes. The thought of Derek walking out alive is apparently too much for her as she uses her last moments of freedom not to try and escape, but to plunge a sword through Derek's heart.

He knows that the wolf won't come back from that.

Paralyzing Allison is easier than it should be – he's growing stronger, maybe even stealing some of Derek's strength – just as not torturing her is harder, much harder, than it should be. Talking to her isn't working. Somehow she's latched on to the idea that Scott's death is Derek's fault – and she won't let that go.

It's wrong, he knows it is, but Stiles still lashes out. Tells her that if anyone is to blame for Scott and Melissa's murders, except her psycho mom, it's Allison. Allison, who willingly became a monster, who to Stiles is worse than not just Kate but Peter too.

And then he does something he hates himself a little for. He uses his magic and takes over her head. Plants it full of memories of everything she's responsible for, the pain she's caused, in every time-line. He jumps with her screams ringing through his entire being.

It's a hollow victory.

~ jump ~ jump ~ jump ~

Stiles tweaks his jump a little, and manages to end up perfectly positioned for a new attempt. This time he's going to try something different – he's going to get Derek involved, and screw Deaton's rules and caution. Stiles is tired of playing it safe only to lose.

He uses herbs to disguise his scent, and hides just behind where he knows Derek will stand. And then he waits. He waits for Derek and current him to arrive, and then for current him to start walking the perimeter of the building. Once the boy he once was disappears from sight Stiles stands up and walks a few steps towards Derek.

The Alpha hears him, turns around, and startles. He almost shifts from the shock, and possibly the perceived threat of a doppelganger, which makes Stiles stop and hold his hands up in a peaceful gesture.

"Derek, please. Listen to me. I'm not a threat, I promise, and I'll tell you everything later, but for now? We don't have much time. You need to get everyone out of there, okay? Now. If you don't, Scott could die. The entire pack could die."

Derek stares at him, eyes more than a little Alpha red, and he's still poised to attack at a seconds notice.

"Victoria Argent is inside, with wolf's-bane. She found out Scott and Allison are still together, and that they're having sex, and she decided to get rid of the problem. Permanently.

"If you don't get the pack out, chances are it will happen again."

"Again? Are you trying to tell me you've seen it happen? That you're what, from the future?"

"Not exactly. I'm from a different time-line, but otherwise, yeah. You need to trust me, Derek. You need to trust that I won't let you, or the pack, die. Just like I didn't let you die in the pool. You said then that we didn't trust each other, but that's not true for me – hasn't been for a long time – and I don't think it is for you either.

"I'm here to help. Will you let me?"

Derek stares at him for a long time – or so it feels, even if Stiles knows it's probably less than a minute – and then he nods. As he pulls out his cellphone Stiles takes a deep relieved breath and feels his legs shake.

"I should go, the others shouldn't see me. I'll meet you later? Say, an hour?" He rattles off the address to a mostly abandoned building where he knows they can speak privately – Stiles plans on making it his hideout, has, in fact, more or less lived there in several time-lines already. (It may or may not also be where Derek had just moved to, days before being killed, in Stiles's original time-line. Not that that had any impact on his decision. It hadn't. Really not.)

At Derek's nod, Stiles turns and disappears into the shadows. Now all he can do is wait, and hope.

Stiles spends the next hour not pacing like he wants to, through a tremendous effort, but instead sitting down with pen and paper making lists. What events need changing, which people can be trusted, who could be an asset but aren't trustworthy, possible new pack members to approach, what supplies does he need, possible bolt holes for if (when) Gerard starts hunting the pack...

When his (hastily thrown up, somewhat basic) wards alert him to Derek's arrival Stiles puts away his lists – he's going to share a lot of the information with the Alpha, but he knows sharing everything is just a bad idea. At least for now. When Derek walks through the door Stiles greets him with a soft, relieved smile.

"Thank you for coming. Thank you for trusting me this much – I know it's hard for you, but I really think we need to do this. Both of us, together. Will you let me help you? Will you let me save the pack, Alpha?"

Derek's shock at hearing that title is visible. In a way, Stiles thinks, being addressed that way comes as more of a surprise to Derek than being approached by an older version of the annoying teenager that had just left his sight, and said older Stiles claiming to be from another time-line, breaking the laws of nature to save the pack.

Then he straightens, tenses in a way that usually means an attack, and Stiles readies himself. Either someone's coming, and managed to avoid his wards (unlikely, but possible), or Derek has decided that Stiles is a threat that needs to be taken out.

"You're not Stiles."

Option number two then.

"I am. Or, I was, or maybe 'not quite'. Depends on your perspective. I'm not the Stiles you're used to, that's true, but I am Stiles. It's a long story, and an ugly one, so... Can we do this sitting down?"

Derek chooses to lean against the wall, probably because it'll give him an advantage in case he needs to fight, while Stiles sits down on an upturned crate. He takes a second to center himself, allows his hope to become a single silent plea, and begins the story.

"It started tonight, only in a different time-line, and in essence years ago – for me. I'd just finished making the circle when you told me to break it. I didn't understand, but I still did it, I could tell you were serious. Then you ran off.

"It wasn't until later I found out the whole story. Victoria Argent had been there, armed with wolf's-bane, and she'd trapped Scott. He was dying, and you heard him howl. You fought Victoria, disorientated from the wolf's-bane, and ended up biting her.

"She turned. Her family had all this knowledge, and they could have helped her not hurt anyone, and she could have been fine. A werewolf, yes, but fine. Alive. Only that's not what happened. Victoria chose to kill herself instead, which drove her daughter off the rails. And none of us noticed until it was too late."

Stiles swallows hard, trying to force down the lump that's appeared in this throat. Even after all this time thinking about what happened is hard. Waking up next to Derek's dead body, seeing Scott being ripped to pieces, practically fleeing a Beacon Hills turned hell...

He keeps talking, because it's the only thing he can do. Talk, and make Derek believe him. There are no other options. Derek has to believe him. They have to change things. Because Stiles doesn't know if he can keep doing this for much longer, and he doesn't think he can do it alone.

He knows he doesn't want to.

When he's done Stiles lapses into quiet stillness. His throat is dry and itchy, and he reaches for the bottle of water he'd picked up on the way here – slowly, so not to spook Derek. He drains it, in slow sips, allowing himself some relief as well as Derek the time to think.

The silence is heavy, exactly the kind Stiles once would have filled with meaningless facts just to avoid. Now...he doesn't. That habit died somewhere along the way. The path he'd chosen doesn't lend itself well to babbling, nor simply talking to others really. He's talked more this evening than in the last year, Stiles thinks.

"You're different."

Stiles just raises an eyebrow. Because that? Understatement. First there's the fact that he's a lot more silent these days, and barely ever fidgets. His arms and back are covered with tattoos, all of them connected to his magic, and even if only part of them are visible that's a huge difference. In addition to those he's collected quite a few scars, even if just the ones on his hands and cheekbone are visible. He's bigger too, an inch or so taller and 20 pounds heavier, and he moves differently thanks to (finally) learning some self-defense.

Then there's his hair. At this point in time his current self still sports a buzz cut, while he has let his grow out. It's not as much a fashion thing as it's practical – no need to find scissors or hair clippers on a regular basis. Also it does dramatically change his look, especially since he tends to wears it either braided or in a "man-bun", like now.

"Not how you look. Well, that too, but that wasn't what I meant. You're not as fidgety. Your hands are still, your feet as well, and I haven't seen you bite your lip once."

"Ah, that. You know I have, well, that current me have ADD? Anyway, once I started training things started calming down, and once I started jumping most of the physical stuff disappeared completely. It's like the magic burned it out of my system."

Deaton had confirmed that suspicion, a couple of time-lines back, when Stiles had brought it up. He didn't exactly trust the man, no, but sometimes you needed to use the resources available even when they weren't trustworthy, and at that time it had meant Deaton. (Stiles had needed stitches, courtesy of Victoria fucking Argent, and the hospital had obviously not been an option.)

"You can call me Kyle."

It's cheesy, Stiles knows, but he gets a kick out of it, and well. His life right now? Needs some cheese. And pizza, probably. Anyway.

"It's similar enough to 'Stiles' that it covers any confusion on my part, and I kinda like it."

"Mhm. You gonna go by the last name 'Reese'?"

Stiles just shakes his head, 'cause no. He's not a fan of that name. Damned candy.

"Nah. I'll still be a Stilinski, I just–" and that's when it hits him. He pivots, stares at Derek, at the man's sly smirk, and starts spluttering.

"You, you...! You got that one!" And Derek's smirk grows into a real smile as Stiles continues to sputter.

Once he lets go of the indignant feeling Stiles can admit that Derek got him, and good. He's just surprised. Why did Derek never show Stiles – and Scott, but mostly Stiles – this side the first time around? Things would have been different then, he thinks.

"And I'm supposed to believe you'd respect me then? I didn't need friends, Stiles. I needed a pack. And I needed to know you'd listen when I told you something."

"Yeah? How'd that work out for you then, sourwolf?"

"Not that great, no, but at least you weren't stopping for a vote when I told you you needed to run. And don't tell me you wouldn't have, because I've met you, okay. I know you." Which yeah, he totally was right about. One of the downsides of growing up the way Stiles had is definitely his attitude towards authority.

"Point. So, given that everything is different now, can we work together? Neither of us bossing the other one around, both of us respecting the other's abilities, and allowing the one most suited for the task at hand to take charge? Because while I need your help I can't allow you to fuck things up because you need to be in charge, to be the Alpha. You are my Alpha, but sometimes I am going to need you to let me lead."

It's a deal breaker, honestly, because Stiles knows that some of the things they need to address will only go to hell if Derek is the one to handle them. He's seen it, after all.

He just hopes Derek will agree. He's tired of being alone. Derek isn't the only one to need a pack.

"Okay."

It's only one word, and in a different time, an easier, more innocent time, Stiles would have mocked Derek for his brevity. Now, however, he only gives a relieved sigh. Because Derek doesn't really need more words than that, not when his eyes say everything Stiles could ever wish for. "You're pack" they say, as does the hand Derek rests on his shoulder.

They're pack, and together they will save the rest.

The first thing they need to do is make sure Peter can't come back. They have a fuck-ton of things to do, and problems to fix, true, but Stiles refuses to budge on this one. Half of the problems he's seen in Beacon Hills, in his own time-line as well as in the others, could have been avoided had Peter not been in the picture. There's also the fact that being possessed by Peter, lacking a better term, had tortured Lydia, and while Stiles is long since over her she means too much for him to let that continue.

Besides, the second item on Stiles's agenda is to de-kanima Jackson, and Lydia's their best bet for that. However, in order for her to be able to reach Jackson she needs to be herself, and that means no Peter lurking inside her mind.

He understands Derek's reluctance, he does, because the thought of getting a loved one back from the dead? It's kind of why Stiles is here in the first place, isn't it? Only there's a difference between Peter Hale and the people Stiles is trying to save. None of them are irredeemable sociopaths for one.

It takes pointing out that Peter didn't just kill Laura, he lured her to Beacon Hills so he could, in order to sway Derek. Still, there's a shadow in Derek's eyes afterwards that actually hurts to see.

Ironically enough they then take reversed positions as Stiles argues for using Deaton's help in removing Peter's spirit, while Derek digs his heels down refusing to trust the man. Stiles wins that round too, obviously, but that's only because he's thought this through and counters all of Derek's arguments. All except one: Deaton can't be trusted. Because yeah, Stiles doesn't trust him either. To a degree, yes, but everything Stiles has seen – everything Deaton has said and done – in all the time-lines tells him the man has an agenda of his own, one that isn't necessarily in the best interest of Derek or the pack.

(The last message Stiles got from Deaton even confirmed this. "I focused too much on Scott, and what I knew he could become, that I lost sight of the big picture." He'd become Scott's guardian and mentor at the expense of all of Beacon Hills. Stiles's original Deaton had seen the error of his ways, if much too late. None of the Deatons since have.)

Still, the man has all the supplies they need, or knows how to find them, and some very useful knowledge. Stiles could technically do the ritual to "cleanse" Lydia on his own, but that would take more time, and more effort. Using Deaton means Stiles can keep his own power concealed a bit longer, especially from Deaton, and more importantly not deplete it. This way he'll be able to use his magic for other things, things he doesn't trust Deaton with, and have some in reserve in case of an attack.

Freeing first Lydia then Jackson is so much easier than Stiles would ever have imagined, and leaves him staring at a wall, practically pouting. It's ridiculous, he knows, to feel this way when the outcome was beyond his expectations, but still... If it's one thing Stiles has learned it's that when something looks too easy, it usually is.

Still, neither Stiles nor Deaton can find any trace of Peter in Lydia, and Jackson is very much transformed into a werewolf now. He's even displaying some much needed humility.

So Stiles takes the win.

Derek leaves with Jackson, because just like Stiles the Alpha's more than a bit paranoid, and that means Jackson will be watched closely for a while to ensure he isn't still under someone else's control.

And Stiles... Stiles goes off to reluctantly execute step three – talking to his dad. Bringing his dad into this mess is not something Stiles particularly wants to do, ever, but he knows he doesn't have an option. Most people will look at him and think he reminds them of someone, maybe even the right someone, but John Stilinski? He'll know. Telling him the truth means Stiles will be able to get around town without worrying, as well as John being better equipped to protect himself.

Also, Stiles is hoping to convince his dad to ship current him off somewhere, like say the cousins in Poland. Having both of them in the same place has proved to not lead to any of the problems Stiles had worried about, pre-jumping, like entropic cascade failure or something (so he's watched too many TV shows, sue him) but. It does increase the risk to them both.

Beacon Hills is like the Hellmouth – the death rate is through the roof. And Stiles? Is in any incarnation much too curious, too stubborn, and too, well, smart and stupid at the same time for his own good. If shit is going to go down, then current Stiles needs to be elsewhere. He simply can't take the risk to have himself killed, and his shot at fixing things ruined.

Besides, current him is going to be Stiles's hidden ace. If all else fails, if Beacon Hills goes down in fire and blood once again, if Stiles doesn't make it out... Then current him needs to be safe somewhere, with access to all the knowledge Stiles has amassed over the years, so he can take up the fight. Preferably without having to rely on Deaton.

(He very deliberately leaves that out of his talk with his dad. Which, by the way, goes just about as good as the one with Derek. By which Stiles means no one's happy, and his dad looks like he wants to strangle him more than once, but in the end Stiles gets what he wants. Polish cousins it is.)

Another advantage to going to his dad is supplies. Stiles's resources are scant – they usually are after a jump – and he's not exactly in the mood to go shoplift. His dad scrounges up some camping gear, food, a change of clothes, some cash, a hunting knife neither of them has ever used, and a promise to look into more weapons. It's not much, but it sure is more than Stiles started the day with.

In the long run Stiles suspects he'll appeal to Derek for help, what with him being the Alpha and everything, but for now he's just happy to put that off.

He's woken up in the middle of the night by Derek returning to the loft. With how Derek had intended to basically glue himself to Jackson's side for a while it's much too soon for him to return now, and Stiles braces himself. This can only mean bad news. He's wrong. The news aren't bad – they're the worst.

Victoria Argent is dead.

Suicide.

It makes no sense. No matter how Stiles twists and turns the facts they refuse to make any kind of sense. There should be no reasons for Victoria to kill herself. The "mental health issues" the Argents had used as an excuse in Stiles's original time-line had been just that, an excuse. There had been nothing wrong with Victoria's mental health – from a medical point of view. She'd only killed herself then because of an unfortunate bite and the brainwashing that came with being a hunter.

This time Derek hadn't bitten her, and neither had any of the others (even if a bite from a beta couldn't change anyone Stiles wouldn't put it past the Argents to not care) and so she shouldn't have changed.

So why would she be dead this time? Had she been bitten by someone else? Had some idiot Alpha traveled through the area and bitten her nilly-willy, or had the Alpha pack arrived early and taken the opportunity to stir up trouble? Only neither option makes any sense.

The next day Stiles arranges for himself and Derek to be given access to Victoria's body (another advantage to having filled his dad in) to try and figure out what's happening. What they find troubles Stiles.

There is a set of teeth marks on Victoria, similar to a werewolf bite. However, it doesn't look quite right, and Derek says it smells wrong as well. Stiles tries a little magic, but without result. There's an impression of betrayal, that's all, but when taking everything else into consideration it adds up to a not so pretty picture.

Something tells Stiles that Gerard is behind this. He doesn't know how, just that out of all their options that is the most likely one. It's also the scariest one.

It means they aren't as safe as he'd hoped.

With Victoria dead, and Gerard a likely suspect, that means Allison is being set up to flip. There is no doubt in Stiles's mind about that. The only question is when the shit will hit the fan. Derek thinks sooner rather than later, while Stiles argues not until the funeral. Either way they need to start putting safety measures in place at once.

For Stiles that means pushing his dad harder about sending current him away now – it doesn't take long though, as John has already set the wheels in motion – and setting up magical safeguards. For Derek it means finding somewhere to live that isn't the train depot or the Hale house, and start training the pack.

It means bringing the pack in on the possible threats – Argents and Alphas alike – and on Stiles's presence. They all buy the explanation of "Kyle" being a distant Stilinski cousin, as well as the implication that he's from the same family current Stiles is now on his way to live with. The resemblance is obvious to them, yet with enough differences for them to not realize his true identity. (Of course, the fact that time travel, or alternate dimensions for that matter, usually isn't peoples' first assumption also helps.)

All this also means making plans for all eventualities, and researching, and the two of them working closely together not just as Alpha and Beta, but as Stiles and Derek. It works better than Stiles had ever dared to hope.

The problem with working with Derek is that it changes things. Not time-line things, the ones Stiles traveled to fix (though maybe those too, admittedly) but Stiles things.

He's respected Derek for a long time, and has come to see the man as his Alpha. But this is the first time they've really interacted since Stiles started jumping, and since he became something other than a spastic teenager.

Now they're practically the same age – or so Stiles estimates, what with all the jumps – and that puts them on a more equal footing. Add Stiles's power, and the fact that they're on the same side now, actively working together towards the same goal...

Respect and pack becomes friendship, and then... Well. Stiles falls in love.

He's found Derek grade A eye-candy for a long time, but the Alpha's attitude coupled with Stiles's loyalty towards Scott has always kept it from becoming more. Seeing the real Derek behind the protective facade changes that. And Derek... Derek falls too.

It's a fucking disaster.

Oh, not at first, no. At first it's butterflies and shy looks and lingering hands, then sweet kisses and soaring hearts. It's also very distracting.

It almost costs them Isaac.

After that (after Derek rips an Argent hunter off Isaac's unconscious body, after Stiles stops him from ripping the man to shreds, after Stiles stops himself from doing the same) Stiles tries to detach himself from Derek. He's here to change things for the better, not fuck them up more, and being with Derek seems to come in the way of that. Only he can't. Somewhere along the line Derek's become too important for Stiles to give up – and that's without his romantic feelings. When you add those, well.

Stiles started all of this for Scott. For the hole ripped open in his soul by Scott's death (again and again and again), for the aching loss that lessened him. Oh, there had been additional incentive along the way – his father the biggest of them all – but when push came to shove, it had started with Scott.

Or so Stiles had thought. Now, well. Now he's no longer sure. Somewhere along the line this whole endeavor has become just as much about Derek. Or maybe it always was, somewhere deep inside. Because looking back? Stiles can see that maybe it wasn't Scott's death that begun the journey – but Derek's.

Yes, Stiles would probably never have done all of this for Derek alone. He would have raged, and mourned a bit, and missed their grumpy stalker – had, in fact, done exactly that – but he wouldn't have challenged every law of time and space for him. Not back then. That kind of loyalty – that kind of love – had still been reserved for Scott and his dad then.

But if Stiles is honest with himself (which he'd actually rather not, but hey, it is what it is) then Derek had been heading there, and fast. Because when counting all the things Derek was, then deserving of loyalty definitely made the list. (As did deserving of love, and happiness. But that was another story.)

They get two months of uneasy quiet before the Argents make their next move. Regardless of what Erica and Isaac think – and say – Stiles doesn't spend them kissing Derek. Well, okay, he does, but not only. He prepares. He makes plans within plans, and then he makes backup plans for those, and he spends his magic liberally.

Anything and everything to ensure the safety and survival of the pack.

That's Stiles's days, and his evenings. His nights – with the odd exception – are spent curled up with Derek. It's as close to bliss as he's felt since that night when Scott was bitten and both their lives changed.

The Argents' move is to blow up the train depot. There are no casualties, but that's on Stiles, not Allison and Gerard. As far as those two are concerned Derek and Isaac were both spending the night there. They knew nothing about the back exit Stiles carved out and concealed using magic his first week in this time-line, had no idea that Derek and Isaac had left through it minutes after entering the depot.

Because one of the qualities that Derek and Stiles share is being a paranoid bastard. That works in their favor right now.

The second attack is to the Reyes house. The plan, from what Stiles can tell, is to capture Erica and use her as bait to draw out Derek before killing them both. It's an okay plan, and probably would have worked if not for the wards Stiles has put up. Calling the police about a possible home invasion works like a charm, mostly since it's nothing the Argents would expect from werewolves.

And so it goes, for three months. The Argents attack, and the pack evades as best they can. The constant attacks are a nuisance, yes, but generally no more than that. The pack has grown and they're strong, stronger than ever, and so is Stiles. He's beginning to think they'll win this, that he's finally managed to avoid the death of the pack and the destruction of Beacon Hills.

And then Gerard dies. He's leading an attack against the pack, Stiles strikes back using magic, and Gerard just collapses. It's a heart attack according to the autopsy protocol, and isn't that an anti-climax? For a brief moment Stiles hopes that Chris will step up and rein in his daughter.

Maybe he tries. Maybe he doesn't care. Stiles will never know, since just hours after Gerard's funeral, Chris leaves town, off to France to "take care of Gerard's affairs". All Stiles knows is that in his absence, Allison and the Argent hunters rain down a destruction on Beacon Hills that is on par with what started Stiles on this to begin with.

Ironically this is where Scott finally takes a stand. One of the attacks leaves Melissa badly hurt, looking at months, maybe years of healing and physical therapy, and maybe still never able to walk unhindered and use her hands again – unless she takes the Bite.

Scott runs out of excuses and sympathy for Allison right there. Her going after Derek he could rationalize. Going after Erica he could ignore. But Melissa getting hurt? Allison almost taking his mother away in her quest to avenge her own? That is where Scott's sunshine persona takes the backseat to his formidable temper.

Scott loved Allison with all his heart, and still does in a way. He loved his mother first though, and unlike Allison Melissa hasn't betrayed that love. Because Melissa still retains her humanity, even when turned into what some would dub a monster, while Allison's clearly lost hers.

Stiles gets a front-row seat to that confrontation, from where he's hiding, and it's beautiful, in a train-wreck way. Scott uses his nose to track down Allison at the grocery store, and just marches up to her like she's not a homicidal maniac. What follows is not a discussion, or an argument. It's a verbal slap. Words have never been Scott's weapon, but this time? This time he wields them in a way that makes Stiles green with envy.

"So my mom's going to survive" is his opening. "No thanks to you, of course" follows, along with "You want to hunt monsters? Start by looking in the mirror". He ends with "I would have sacrificed everything for you, everything except my mom, and this is what you do? I loved you, Allison, and now? That disgusts me".

Stiles isn't exactly proud of just how much he relishes in the pained look on Allison's face. She deserves it, and more, but still. He wants to think he's better than that – better than her.

Everything comes to a head nine months, give or take a few days, after Stiles's arrival in this time-line. It's ironic, he thinks, that the same amount of time that it takes to create a life – and that Stiles has in fact used to create himself a new life – has been used by the other side to create a small army and come up with a plan meant to eradicate the Hale pack once and for all.

He won't let them. The pack is strong, and so is Stiles. They will survive. They have to survive. He's sacrificed too much for any other outcome to be acceptable. He stands next to Derek, tall and straight and proud, and stares Allison Argent down across the field. She won't back down, he knows, too caught up in her insanity and thirst for revenge.

Killing Derek means more to her than anything else – she'll let the world burn to ensure he doesn't walk away from this.

Too bad for her Stiles will do the same to make sure he does.

~ jump ~ jump ~ jump ~

"Who are you?"

The sleepy voice pulls Stiles out of his memories, and he jumps a little, grateful that it's only Allison. At the same time he curses himself for allowing himself to get caught up and distracted – for letting her wake up. Because as much as he hates her, as much as he has no regrets for what he's about to do, there's something unsettling about looking into the eyes of a (still) innocent child and know he's going to murder her in cold blood.

He uses a bit of his magic – not much, because he honestly doesn't have any to spare any longer – to make her stay sleepy, and most of all trust him. The last thing Stiles wants is for this to turn into a fight. He wants Argent blood, yes, but he also wants to stop any other blood from spilling and that means a compromise. That means making all of this look like nature, not the (justified) executions they are.

"I'm from your future, and I'm here to tell you a story."

"The future?" She wrinkles her nose, looking adorable and wide-eyed. "Really?"

"Really, Allison. Wanna hear your story?"

She nods excitedly, and Stiles gives her a smile. No need to be cruel – no more than necessary at least, and not to this Allison.

"Then why don't you lie down comfortably, and we'll start. Ready? Once upon a time there was a boy who fell in love with a girl..."

He tells her the story – her story, hers and Scott's – about the boy and the girl who loved each other so much, and who would have done just about anything to be together, only her family wouldn't let them.

("Like Romeo and Juliet?" she asks him sleepily. "Yes, Allison. Like Romeo and his Juliet.")

Some things never change. Back when, before everything went horribly wrong, Scott and Allison had loved to think of their romance as a Romeo and Juliet story. Only their story would, of course, have a happy ending.

They'd dreamed of hunters and werewolves coexisting peacefully, and thought they could make it happen. Neither of them took into consideration that as bloodthirsty as the Capulets and Montague were, the Argents were worse – and most of them batshit crazy to boot.

Stiles remembers biting his tongue to not smash their pretty, rose-colored illusions. Because sure, Romeo and Juliet had ended the feud between their families – but they'd done it by dying. And they hadn't been the only casualties. So, Stiles thinks bitterly, a lot like Allison and Scott really.

He's regretted keeping quiet a thousand times since, and a thousand times more, and now that he has the chance something inside Stiles screams at him to tell her now. To tell her the horrible bloody truth, and have her feel at least some of the pain he's been carrying around for too long.

He doesn't though. Instead Stiles tells her the story that should have been, where the girl's family have a change of heart, and where love really does conquer all. He gives Allison a story about the life she should have had, in exchange for the one he's going to take from her, and he feels no remorse.

When Allison's eyes close, and her breathing slows down, Stiles keeps talking for a minute. Then he looks at her, allowing himself to remember her as she had been one last time, before reaching out to touch her forehead in goodbye. He doesn't say anything else, doesn't pray or ask for forgiveness. There's nothing to say, and Stiles has lost all his faith. There's no one to forgive him, no higher power to fix things. There's only him.

It's up to him to finish this, and he will.

Stiles uses his magic again, feels the action eating at his focus, at his very self, devouring him into next to nothing, as the two test tubes in his hands shimmer and become empty. He can't see through walls, can't tell if he manages his second target, but he can see the shine on the little girl's skin, can see it disappear as the magic pushes the material into her body.

He looks down at the sleeping girl, a girl that will never wake again, and feels empty. He's used up practically all of his resources, all of his humanity, and now he really is empty. It doesn't matter though. In a short while he won't exist any longer – he's too burned out, and he doesn't belong here.

He's...okay with that. More than okay.

There are a few things he wants to do first though, and time is short. For years now Stiles has been nothing but time, flitting through it, extending it, reliving it, trying to change it, and now it's all coming to an end. He is coming to an end, finally running out of time and that's okay.

Reaching within Stiles drags up the last dregs of his energy and flings his aching body from Allison's unfamiliar bedroom to a familiar one in Beacon Hills. He only gets a few seconds, but it's enough, because he spends those seconds looking at his mother.

And then he loses it, loses control as his core flares up, literally makes him the spark, and he becomes nothing more than atoms. If his last thought goes to a certain broody werewolf, well. That's just how love is.

The next day the LAPD will discover the bodies of Kate Argent and her married lover. It will, eventually, be ruled a murder/suicide.

To the Hale family this will not even register. The Argents, though confirmed hunters, mean nothing to them – have never even set foot in Beacon Hills for as long as the Hales have lived there. And why should they? The Hale pack doesn't harm anyone, isn't a danger. They "hunt" no one, giving the Argents no reason to hunt them.

The rest of the Argent family would be a different story – any other day, that is. But as it is they are already holed up in a hospital, Chris and Gerard praying to gods they do not really believe in, while Allison and Victoria fight against a severe case of meningitis.

The grass hasn't even begun to grow on the three graves when a fourth one is dug, Gerard succumbing to the cancer he thought could be overcome.

It's been a month since a wide eyed eleven year old girl and a weary time traveler talked about a future that will never take place now.

Six years later a 16 year old Stiles – "yes, really" – Stilinski is dragged along to a barbecue by two of his schoolmates, where he meets Derek Hale. It's not love at first sight, nor is it lust – though Stiles has no problem admitting exactly how sexy he finds Derek (not just his body, but his warm laugh and easy acceptance).

It's a connection. It will grow to a bond strong enough, or so Laura says, half joking, half serious, to defy even death.

None of them will ever know it already has.

"The future has not been written. There is no fate but what we make for ourselves."

~The Beginning ~

(Quote from Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines)