Chapter Text
Butterflies fluttered in his stomach as Stiles walked through the doors of QUANTICO. Though today this was the last time he’d walk through those doors as a student. Climbing up the stairs he checked his watch for the millionth time. When he saw the email from the Dean of Student Affairs his mind immediately went to the worst-case scenario. The email hadn’t explained exactly why the dean wanted to see him, only stating the time and place where the meeting would happen. As he walked down the hallway his phone buzzed in his pocket. Seeing that he was running early for the first time in his life Stiles stepped to the side of the hallway and pulled his phone. A candid unflattering photo of Peter inhaling a burger lit up his screen, the name “Asshole” in bold white lettering at the top.
“Yeah, not today Satan,” he mumbled before sending Peter to voice mail and shoving his phone back into his pocket.
Knocking on the wooden door he gingerly cracked the door open enough to see inside. Light filtered in through the large wall of windows, highlighting the oak desk in the middle of the room. A petite, middle-aged woman sat behind the desk, her reading glasses perched precariously on the tip of her nose as she wrote on the paper in front of her.
“Uh, hi. I got an email saying that I was supposed to meet Dean Sheffield at three today,” he said awkwardly, his hand still firmly on the door nob in case he had to make a swift exit.
The woman looked up from her desk, a polite but cold smile on her face. “Ah yes you must be Mr. Stilinski,” she said, standing and offering her hand.
Stepping further into the room Stiles closed the door behind him before he took Dean Sheffield’s offered hand. “Please call me Stiles.”
Dean Sheffield’s smile faltered slightly before she was able to regain it. “Alright Stiles. Now I’m sure you’re wondering why I asked you to meet with me today. As I’m sure you are well aware you are coming up on graduating from our training program and becoming a fully fledged FBI agent. Now is typically the time when students put in what division and where they would like to be placed. However, you are in, shall we say, a unique situation. A new division has opened in the branch, one that I think you would fit perfectly in. The best part is that in this new division, you wouldn’t be starting at the bottom of the totem poll, but rather as a junior specialist.”
Stiles’ brow furrowed. “Specialist of what?”
“This is where your unique background comes into play. Did you know that you have a better chance of discovering the lost city of Atlantis than you do of moving out of Beacon Hills?”
“What does that have to do with anything?” As discreetly as he could, he pinched his arm, hoping that he was having a really weird dream and that this wasn’t happening. When he felt the sharp pain his stomach dropped.
She gave him a sympathetic smile. “Just like specific people are drawn to Beacon Hills by some un-named force, that same force keeps those souls in Beacon Hills. We’re not sure why this happens only that it does. And those souls that manage to break free of this force, their life slowly spirals out until it is unfortunately snuffed out tragically.”
“What does that have to do with me and the new division that is being opened?”
“Beacon Hills isn’t the only town where this phenomenon has happened. Over the years the FBI has noticed that those towns have attracted some rather unusual characters. Characters who create mayhem on the best of days and murder on the worst. The FBI has decided to step in and create a division that handles these unusual characters when they get out of control and threaten the regular population. We know that you’ve had your fair share of run-ins and have dealt with these types of situations in the past and we don’t want to see an agent with so much potential as yourself to suffer and spiral. Which is why I am assigning you to our Beacon Hills office once you’ve graduated and have completed all of your training.”
Icy dread curled around his stomach. He had fought so hard to escape Beacon Hills and now it seemed like it was all for nothing. “What if I don’t want to go back?”
“It’s up to you if you want to choose to continue down the path of becoming an FBI agent. Because I will warn you, there will be no other offers given to you. There will be no other department or city that will take you. While I know it sounds harsh we won’t waste time, money, and resources on an agent that will spiral within five years of graduating.” Silence descended on the room while Stiles’ mind spun in a million different directions. “Take some time to think about what you want to do and get back to me.”
Nodding mutely he stood and stiffly walked out the door.
#
Stiles had just entered his apartment when his phone went off again. Only this time Britney Spears's “Hit Me Baby One More Time” filled the air. Sighing he turned on his lights as he answered his phone.
“Why haven’t you called Peter back?” Scott asked side stepping any form of greeting.
“And hello to you too. I’m doing great thanks for asking,” he said dryly, throwing his keys on the key bowl just a bit too harshly. The sharp crack of metal hitting ceramic making him wince.
“Stiles, answer the question,” Scott said in a frustrated growl.
“Because I don’t want to talk to that asshole, okay? Now was there something else you wanted to talk about or did you just want to rip me a new one for not calling Peter back?”
“Well if you had spoken with Peter then you would have known that he’s calling the pack back home. Something has happened, not sure what since he wanted everyone here before he said much more than that.”
“So?”
Scott let out an offended choking sound. “So? So he’s your alpha and part of your pack-”
“First he’s not my alpha and that’s not my pack. Second I can’t just drop everything and come running just because Peter needs some help tying his shoe or something. And third with everyone there what use do you have with a skinny, defenseless human?” he said a little too bitterly. When he had overheard Derek describe him as that, it shattered his teenage heart. Especially since he knew that Derek was saying how he felt since Derek didn’t know that Stiles was within earshot. Shaking himself out of the memory he focused back on the present.
“Stiles, you might not be a werewolf but you are still the most scary badass person I know. Hell, I’d be scared shitless if I was on the opposite end of that amazingly smart and crazy brain of yours. Besides, you’ll always be a part of this pack.”
“Funny since I don’t remember taking some blood oath that eternally binds me to a group of people who can barely stand me,” he said choosing to purposefully sidestep Scott’s obvious attempt to flatter him into doing what Peter wanted.
“What are you talking about?”
Stiles shook his head. “Never mind. The point is I’m not a werewolf, Peter isn’t my alpha and I don’t have to do what he says.” Suddenly the power cut, plunging him into a world of darkness. Cursing at the faulty electoral in his 100-year-old apartment he fumbled blindly until he found the light switch.
“Are you sure about that?” a deep voice said just as the power came back on. Letting out a yelp of surprise Stiles stumbled back to see the blazing red eyes of Peter Hale staring back at him.