It's Amazing What You Find Online These Days.

Summary: Stiles gets bored of researching. Derek shows up. There's a website. A live site technician. And a cute guy with nice eyes.

Notes: I have zero plans to continue this because I personally don't think it needs it, but if anyone wants to try, I'll totally read it.

Stiles is searching the web randomly looking for werewolf facts and he came across the site (completely by accident) called The Cauldron Files. He has no idea what it was but he was at the end of his rope with the shit that had been thrown his way in Beacon Hills so he figured, taking a look would be a time waster at least.

So he clicks on the link and the screen goes black. Not the colour black but the monitor is still on. But actual black-the-monitor-just-somehow-lost-power black. Scowling and grumbling away like it's no ones business, he checks the connections and find everything is in its place, the PC is still turned on for crying out loud! He's just about to give up and replace the monitor with his older, spare one, when a flashing hourglass appears in the centre of the screen.

Now, this wasn't your regular windows 'loading please wait' hourglass, this shit was ornate. It looked crafted, like it was an old relic from the dawn of time-by-hourglass (which existed, Stiles had an essay written somewhere about the origins of how time came to be understood and subsequently measured - don't ask). And it wasn't spinning and stopping to let the virtual sand pour, it was spinning, without stopping, the motion was smooth and had an almost hypnotic rhythm to it.

"That doesn't look normal," he heard and jumped up so fast his chair flew back and he heard a grunt of discomfort. Turning around, he saw Derek glaring at him as if being hit by a wayward chair in Stiles' own bedroom was Stiles fault.

"Seriously. You're wearing a bell. On a collar. And I'm going to call you Fido until the day I die. If you don't stop sneaking up on me like some damn creeper wolf!" Stiles glared right back, snatching his chair away and sitting down again. Derek regarded him for a long, silent moment before he grunted.

"Sorry," he said and it took Stiles a few seconds to process.

"You just apologised," Stiles said and Derek gritted his teeth. "This is progress," he went on. "Maybe, one day, you'll become a real boy," he cooed, laughing and ducking the hand that he knew Derek swiped at his head even though he didn't see it because he'd turned back to his computer. "Pull up a pew," he said. "I'm on a site that decided it didn't like my monitor the way it was so it turned said monitor off, and this hourglass thing popped up." Derek did as instructed and pulled up the spare chair to watch the screen, which still had the fancy hourglass on it.

"That looks familiar," he mused and Stiles glanced at him. "I can't remember where I've seen it before, but I have seen it. Maybe it was something Laura had up once, I don't know," he shrugged and they both turned back to the screen.

"Access Granted. Enjoy your visit. Please do not save any materials to any hard disk connected to the inter - net. If materials are saved, keep them warded and secure. Once you have materials saved, you are responsible for upholding the secrecy of our world."

Stiles and Derek just stared, and then Stiles pointed towards his speakers.

Which were off.

But the voice they had heard had been very real.

Then Derek sneezed.

"Dude!" Stiles yelped. "You sneezed."

"I sneezed," Derek was frowning though, looking thoughtful. Then of course, the monitor chose that time show the site homepage.

It looked like any other generic website out there; news section, shop, information. It was the content that got Stiles confused.

Wizards. Wizarding World. Wizarding Britain. The Old Ways/Our Heritage. Muggleborns! The History of the Wizarding world.

"What the fudge…?" Stiles was gaping. He was man enough to say he was gaping.

He clicked a few links and quickly skimmed the text, his eyes running over the pictures with ease and practise until he'd been there half an hour and he was no closer to understanding just what the hell he'd stepped into. Heading back to the homepage, something popped up in the centre of the screen saying;

Your activity is very exploratory without purpose, if you would like real time live assistance, please click the 'chat with a technician' icon at the bottom right hand side of the page. We're always happy to help you find your way.

He clicked the 'ok' button and just stared.

"Got any clue?" he asked Derek without looking.

"Maybe," the alpha said, causing Stiles to look at him this time. "Nothing solid. Nothing I'd put money on yet," he went on. "Go on the live chat thing."

"Okay," Stiles said slowly. "But if this shit is real and they try and zap me into the wall, I expect you to act like the alpha you are and defend my honour."

"I would, but you'd have to submit first," Derek smirked and Stiles just huffed, moving the page up until he saw the chat icon. He clicked and it took them to a new page with a blank screen filling most of the page, and a smaller blank screen on the bottom left hand side, showing a video feed of Stiles and Derek. He glanced up at his webcam (which he was sure was turned off earlier), and saw the white light that indicated it was very much on.

"Remind me to beef up my firewalls," he said and there was suddenly a face on his screen. It appeared so suddenly that it made Stiles jump back, bumping shoulders with Derek, who growled. "Can it, sourwolf," he snapped. You'd have jumped too. Eesh!" he turned back to the screen and the face was still there. Stiles wasn't ashamed to say he stared while the face remained pleasant, patient, silent and waiting until Derek nudged Stiles and cleared his throat. "Oh!" Stiles' eyes widened. "Um, hi?" he started and the face smiled.

"Good afternoon," the voice belonging to the face said. "Or is it evening where you are?"

"Holy shit you're British!"

"How are you even alive right now?" Derek groaned into his hand.

"My sparkling personality," Stiles snapped. "Got an issue, there's the window." He pointed but Derek wasn't looking, he was just shaking his head, silently lamenting his current position in life.

"I am British," the voice, face, man, sad with a chuckle. "English to be more precise. From Kent originally, but currently settled in central London."

"That's… very precise," Stiles said and the man face smiled.

"Your browsing indicated you didn't quite know what you were searching for, am I to assume this is your first visit to the website?"

"You can… assume that, I mean," he stumbled over his words, elbowing Derek when he heard the alpha chuckling. "To be honest, I got bored with the avenue I was supposed to be looking into-"

"Stiles, that was important!" Derek growled.

"It's also boring. I mean seriously. Fae? Open a fairytale book!" Stiles retorted, unconcerned and the man face's eyes brightened.

"Our section on magical creatures is quite extensive. Our librarian is meticulous in her referencing, finding what you need shouldn't be difficult."

"You got anything on on wise-ass imps that invite themselves aggressively into the territory of an established werewolf pack?" Derek was still pissed so his question was bit out in sarcasm but the man face frowned in thought and no little amount of concern.

"You have a pack of werewolves near you? And you're worried about fae?"

"The wolves are of no concern," Derek said with such conviction that even Stiles looked at him, frowning.

"Dude, last time-"

"Was your own fault. I warned you, specifically you, to stay away because it was the second moon within one month and that's always rough. Also, you weren't hurt because I managed to get your stupidly suicidal ass out of there before they figured out you were there!"

"I thought we'd finished with the lecturing?" Stiles muttered.

"I agreed, on the proviso you didn't bring it up again. You brought it up, you earned another lecture."

"Wait, you have werewolves and you went to see them on the full moon?" the man face asked, staring at Stiles with wide eyes, wide eyes that were scared. Scared for Stiles.

"He was completely safe," Derek said honestly and he was, Stiles was always safe with them whether it was the moon or not, but Derek always liked to err on the side of caution, especially with him. "You needn't concern yourself with our pack, that's not the reason we're on your website."

"Our pack?" the man's voice was high pitched, weak as if he was pleading with Derek to tell him what he'd been saying was just a joke. "You're a part of the pack?"

"I'm a part of the pack?" Stiles asked at the same time, looking up at Derek, who's eyes flashed briefly as he reached up to rest a hand on the back of Stiles' neck.

"Don't be dense," he squeezed briefly and let his hand drop.

"You just told me I had to submit-"

"Stiles," Derek said loudly, firm.

"I'm pack?" Stiles continued, albeit quieter, seeking confirmation more than anything else and Derek just nodded.

"You really are oblivious," his tone was fond despite Stiles' scowl and the voice from the man-face spoke up again.

"I'm sorry," the man-face said. "I know it's not my business, but I'm a werewolf, and you're obviously comfortable around them-"

"You have a bite scar on your throat, how are you a wolf?" Stiles frowned and turned to Derek. "Scott doesn't have a scar. Neither does Isaac, or Erica, or Boyd… Or Jackson for that matter." He turned back to the screen. "I thought only mated wolves left scars, that no mated pair I've ever heard of had a scar that high up or that vicious looking. That looks like an attack-"

"I assure you, I am a werewolf," the man said, patient. "I've had my scar ever since I was attacked as a child.

Stiles paled and sat back in his seat, jumping a little when he felt Derek's hand rest on his leg, squeezing it firmly, comfortingly. "A child?" Stiles asked and the man nodded, frowning.

"Are either of you… I mean, I'm assuming again…"

"Why do you want to know?" Stiles' eyes narrowed.

"What could I possibly do about it from here?" the man-face asked,offering a reassuring look in the face of Stiles' suspicion.

"I'm a wolf," Derek said and his eyes glowed red. The man-face gasped, paled, sat back in his seat and just stared.

"I think you broke someone over in London with your glare. That has to be a new record, right?" Stiles snorted but Derek didn't respond. He was watching the responses of the man on the screen.

"Remus," they heard and the man-face seemed to come back to himself. "Remus, are you okay?" the voice asked off screen.

"Harry," the man-face-Remus breathes. "I'm fine." he glances back at the screen and a guy comes on beside the man-face-Remus. He has green eyes, glasses on, his hair is stylishly messy, and he's wearing a hoodie that says APW on the front.

"He's cute," Stiles said, glancing at Derek beside him, who gave him a long-suffering look. "Don't get jealous, I still think you're the hottest alpha of them all," his grin was full of mischief but Derek just continued to stare.

"Considering I am the only alpha you know, that's not really saying much, is it?"

"Are you kidding, that's like saying you're just out there alone, no one can beat you dude. And I think I'm putting way too much emphasis on how hot I think you are. Shutting up now." He turned away from Derek quickly, going back to the screen in search of an end to his sudden case of self-induced mortification. "So, werewolf, huh? What're you? Alpha? Beta? Omega?" he didn't sound desperate but he could feel how smug Derek was at that moment. "Wait, oblivious!" he snapped back around to Derek, eyes wide. The man smiled, reached out and turned his head back towards the screen. "Right, priorities."

"You're a werewolf," Remus said, staring at Derek, who Stiles felt shrug.

"Last time I checked. I could prove it if it'll make this conversation get to where I need it to be faster..." and there was the snark. Both men paled.

"No!" they shouted together. "There's a human next to you!" the newcomer, Harry, glared at Derek, accusing.

"Woah, I can honestly say that Derek's never done anything against me while in beta or alpha states. Dude's not gonna start now." Stiles said. "Now my best friend however, there's a different story altogether."

"Stiles!" Derek said sharply.

"Focussed! Eesh!" He rolled his eyes. "I still don't buy your werewolf thing. Even bitten wolves lose their scars. I remember Isaac had a scar down his back from-" he froze, rethought his next words, and cleared his throat. "He had a scar on his back. In gym after he was turned, the scar wasn't there anymore. Gone. Poof! Finito. To quote a very good TV show, dude was rehymenated."

"You are not allowed to watch Supernatural without adult supervision anymore," Derek groaned. He seemed to be groaning a lot. Stiles preferred groaning to growling.

Bad thoughts. Unhelpful thoughts.

Stiles flushed when he heard the distinct sound of Derek inhaling sharply beside him. He cleared his throat again. "My point though!" he said unnecessarily loudly. "I don't buy it."

"I can't prove to you that I'm a werewolf," the man was frowning and seemingly taking his disbelief as a personal affront. The guy next to him just looked confused. "It's not the full moon for another week and even then I don't go out in public, I can't. I might hurt someone..."

"Bullshit," Stiles said. "Seriously. If you were a werewolf, you'd have your beta form, which you'd have learned to control early on. Every bitten wolf I've ever spoken to or heard about was forced to learn control early on. I heard that Mama Hale didn't even let Derek go to school before he was 10 because she was terrified he'd lose it in the playground."

"Thank you, Stiles, for airing my family history." Derek drawled and Stiles was suddenly aware that there was an arm resting around the back of his chair. Derek's chair had been a little higher than Stiles' but that can't be comfortable.

"So you were bitten early on too?" Remus asked, looking hopelessly confused by everything. By then, the guy, Harry, had pulled up his own chair.

"I wasn't bitten," Derek answered, amused. "I'm a born wolf. My parents were born wolves, my two sisters were born wolves, my brother was born human. I had human and wolves for relatives but they were all pack." He eyed Remus with interest. "You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"

"So you were born... a werewolf," Harry said, fascinated. "And you have... control? During the moons?"

"I'll show you, okay?" He saw them start to protest but before they could do more than blink, he shifted into his beta form.

"If you tear the leather on my seat I'm gonna use your pelt to cover it up," Stiles muttered, rolling his eyes when the hand pointedly lifted from the back of his seat and rested over his shoulders, the claws settling against his upper arm. "I have a question," Stiles turned his head to Derek and for a face full of Alpha. He didn't flinch though. "Why," he began. "When Scott comes near me with his claws out, do I get twitchy, but when you do it I"m fine?"

"What are you?" Remus gasped, leaning into the screen Harry beside him, equally intrigued.

"It's because I'm the alpha," Derek said, answering Stiles, and he turned to the screen, eyes glowing red. "I'm a werewolf. This is called the beta form. There are three types of werewolf; three levels as it were - or four, but the fourth doesn't matter until it matters. The omega; they can shift into this form but their strength and speed is two thirds that of a beta. The omega, once they find a pack, can grow into a beta and a beta can be effectively demoted to the level of an omega if they lose their pack. A beta wolf can only transform into this form. They're stronger than an omega, weaker than an alpha."

"He's an alpha," Stiles supplied easily. "The red eyes denote alpha status. I won't go into how you become an alpha because it's not relevant. Beta eyes can be blue, gold or grey. Omega's are always gold. Because he's an alpha, he has the final alpha form; which is the wolf, obviously. Only the alpha's bite can turn humans into wolves. The beta doesn't have that power and neither does the omega. I think, and I'm theorising here, that the power to turn is given to the alpha because to become an alpha, the wolf has to prove itself to the pack that it can lead and protect them; it has the power because it has the final word on who becomes a part of the pack, their judgment is paramount."

"That's..." Harry started. "fascinating," he breathed. "It sounds like there are two different species of werewolf."

"Huh," Stiles frowned in thought. "Maybe," he hedged, glancing at Derek. "That'd explain the differences," he mused.

"It would explain his scarring," Derek added, cracking his neck as he shifted back into human form.

"It's also comforting to know that you're just a werewolf," Harry went on. "The last guy I knew with red eyes started a war against me and tried to kill me and the entire wizarding world." If Stiles hadn't read that very story earlier, he'd think Harry was lying with how nonchalant he sounded.

"You're just accepting this?" Remus asked Harry, who shrugged.

"It means there's another species of wolf out there Remy, what can I say? I'm fascinated. Maybe that species could help yours with transformations, I don't know." he shrugged. "It's just a possibility," he shrugged again.

"So, your wolf only comes out on the full moon and I guess it isn't very friendly?" Stiles surmised and winced when he saw Remus shudder.

"My wolf doesn't like being kept in a cage. Before I had my potion, during the full moon it would roam around wherever I chained myself up and if it couldn't get out, it would mutilate itself, punishing me for keeping it locked up."

"That sounds like a cursed were," Derek said after a moment of silence.

"Gonna have to elaborate on that one, D," Stiles nudged.

"When I was a kid, my mom used to tell me and my sisters stories about our history; the history of the wolf. I don't remember all of it but I remember that two born wolves, twins, went down different paths; one of light and peace, one of darkness and evil. The darker wolf was cast out of the pack, made an omega for his crimes, banished to such an extent that the alpha at the time contracted a magic man to curse the evil wolf so he was stripped of the luxuries a wolf gives us; better strength, speed, fast healing, better coordination and a positive pack mentality... Once the curse was cast, the wolf was banished from the land and eventually he fled the country, heading east across the Atlantic. I always thought they were just stories to keep us all in line," he frowned at his memories and looked down when he felt Stiles rest a hand on his leg this time, offering comfort where he could.

"Records over here don't go into detail about the origins of my species, of wolf," Remus said, still a little disbelieving of the whole thing, but willing to give an inch. "It sounds... plausible though."

"Amazing," Harry shook his head, smiling. "Remy, this could mean so much for you... and the kids." His eyes took on a faraway look as he was obviously imagining something.

"We run and fund an orphanage for magical children that have been abandoned by parents who didn't want them because they were scared by all the magic, or because the kids have been victims of wolves and were turned like I was," Remus explained. "Things are better than they were, but change within a society is slow going," he sighed.

"Once we have out fae problem straightened out," Derek said, straightening. "I'd be happy to offer any help I can." Stiles was staring at him like he wasn't quite sure he was hearing things correctly but Derek just looked back at him. "No one deserves to have their will stripped from them once a month; I know we think we have it hard, but from what Remus said, what we go through is nothing in comparison."

"I agree" Stiles said. "I'm just trying to wrap my head around that fact that beneath your growly alphaness, you're just a big squishy softie," he was grinning and Derek scowled.

"I do not squish." he grunted and Stiles just laughed, leaning over and running his cheek against Derek's neck.

"Don't worry, I won't tell the pack," he was still chuckling when he felt Derek's hand move to once again, grasp the back of his neck.

"That would be great," Harry was smliing at them like he knew something and they didn't, or at least Stiles didn't, he mused to himself, as he caught Harry's eyes flick to the side as if focussing on one of them and his smile turning to a slight smirk so he figured Derek's face did something. It usually does things.

They finally got around to talking about the fae problem and after exchanging contact information, the connection was cut and Stiles' monitor returned to its pre-Cauldron Files Site ways.

It took him five minutes to realise he hadn't moved away from where he'd been leaning against Derek.

"Are you freaking out yet?" he heard and Derek's voice sounded amused rather than pissed which, until a few hours ago, Stiles would totally expect.

"Starting to agree that I have been oblivious," was all Stiles said and he shifted until he had a pad of paper and a pen in his hand so they could start to plan without having to move for a while. "This feels better than being oblivious."

"You're such a sap," he could feel Derek rolling his eyes and poked him with the blunt end of the pen in his hand.

"Big. Squishy. Softy." He smirked and felt Derek release a puff of air that sounded suspiciously like a snort of laughter against his hair. "You love it," he muttered and they started to work out their plan of action.

This started out as me being bored and then escalated. Hope you like it! Let me know :)