But of course,

Chapter One

A/N: Hi! I don't know how different things are on Ao3 than they are here, but here are some things I should say to clarify? I guess?
1. Stiles is a Spark (magic!!!)
2. The Sheriff's name is Noah, not John
3. Erica and Boyd are alive (idk how)
4. This is after S2 but before S3. But also Scott is an alpha. Idk how
5. This isn't Sterek but it also isn't not Sterek. Derek simply isn't in the fic. Maybe they're dating but it isn't mentioned at all :/
6. Sorry if this is all obvious, I'm used to Ao3 now and haven't read any TW fic on here </3 Hope y'all like this :)

Stiles Stilinski sat on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands and the weight of the day pressing down on his shoulders. The room was dark– his overhead light's lightbulb had burnt out and the curtains were drawn tightly, blocking the street lamp's yellow light. The only light was from the clock on his nightstand, glowing 11:58 PM.

His black eye throbbed, and he carefully avoided touching his split lip. He winced as he shifted his weight, the pain in his leg and ribs a reminder of the night's brutal encounters.

Stiles, Scott, and Allison had gotten word of two omegas in the Preserve. The confrontation had started peacefully enough, with Scott asking them if they needed help, and even going so far as to offer them a potential spot in the pack. Things had gone downhill very fast after that.

Apparently, the omegas had been exiled from their previous pack. Stiles could tell why– the omegas had said maybe three sentences before pouncing. Scott and Allison had taken one, while Stiles had taken the other.

Stiles was only just getting the hang of being a Spark. He had only been practicing defensive strategies– spells?– so he had hoped the omega would tire himself out and then Stiles could go on the offensive with his bat.

But of course, he wasn't that lucky.

The omega had to have been hopped up on something because he just kept. On. Going. The only reason Stiles had been able to knock the fucker out is because while the omega had Stiles on the ground and was about to rip his throat out, Stiles had been able to reach his bat and smash it into the omega's face. That had knocked the omega over and one more hit rendered him unconscious.

Scott and Allison finished with the other omega at the same time Stiles had, so they tied both the omegas up and Allison and Scott had left while Stiles drove the omegas out of town and dumped them in a forest an hour and change away from Beacon Hills.

Stiles had only just gotten back. Climbing through his window had become just as easy as using the front door nowadays (as painful as it was sometimes), but sneaking in was harder when he had the Jeep, since it wasn't the quietest vehicle. If he turned off the headlights and drove slow enough, sometimes he could get away with it.

But of course, tonight was not one of those nights.

The soft creak of the floorboards outside his room broke the silence. Stiles tensed, his heart pounding in his chest. The door opened slowly, and the silhouette of his father, Sheriff Noah Stilinski, filled the doorway. Stiles was immensely grateful for the darkness that concealed his injuries.

"Stiles," the Sheriff's voice was gruff, tinged with worry that sounded more like irritation. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

Stiles swallowed hard, forcing a casual tone into his voice. "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry, Dad. I lost track of time."

"Lost track of time? Where were you?"

"Just at the library," Stiles lied smoothly. "Studying for exams."

His dad's jaw tightened. "If that's true, the library closes at nine. Where were you the other three hours?"

Stiles's heart sank. He should have known better than to use such an easily disproven excuse. "Okay, fine. I went out to eat with Scott and Allison," Stiles said. Technically, they had eaten before looking for the omegas. Who cares if all they had eaten was a bag of chips and some cupcakes? Food was food.