Teen Wolf: Alpha Reborn

Ash swirled in the air, still settling from the battle. Scott's chest heaved with the remnants of adrenaline, and he felt more alive than ever. But as the dust cleared and reality began to settle in, Derek's eyes, sharp and calculating, flicked from the remains of the ghoul back to Scott.

"How do you know my name?" Derek's voice was low, suspicious. His tone made it clear he wasn't in the mood for games. There was an edge to him now, a defensiveness that had little to do with what just transpired and more to do with the wounds that time hadn't yet healed.

Stiles fidgeted next to Scott, shifting awkwardly before finally breaking the silence. "Uh, I know about you because of, you know, the fire. The one that killed your family." Stiles hesitated, his voice softening. "It was a pretty big deal around here."

Derek's eyes darkened, his expression unreadable. The mention of the fire, the tragedy that had stolen nearly everything from him, was like reopening an old wound. He clenched his fists, but he didn't say anything.

Scott, sensing the tension, stepped in. "I know about you because of the fire too," he said, his tone sincere. His gaze met Derek's, and for a brief moment, the bravado Scott usually wore so comfortably softened. "I'm really sorry about what happened to your family."

For a few seconds, there was only the sound of the wind rustling through the trees. The words hung in the air between them, laden with a weight that even Scott couldn't brush off easily. Derek's face remained impassive, though there was a flicker of something in his eyes—grief, anger, perhaps even gratitude. But whatever it was, he swallowed it down quickly.

The atmosphere felt thick with unspoken emotions, and Scott, never one to dwell in awkward silences, decided to change the subject. He glanced back at the pile of ash that was once the ghoul and raised an eyebrow at Derek.

"Have you ever seen one of those before?" Scott asked, motioning toward the remains.

Derek blinked, clearly relieved by the shift in conversation. "No," he admitted, his arms uncrossing as he relaxed slightly. "I've never seen one, but I've heard stories. My mother told me about ghouls once. They're rare, but dangerous. They feed on human flesh, and their stench gives them away long before they attack." He glanced at the spot where the ghoul had stood, frowning. "But I've never encountered one before today."

"Guess it's a good thing I was here then, huh?" Scott quipped, flashing Derek a confident grin.

Derek shot him a sharp look but didn't respond. He was still wary of Scott, uncertain of this teenage werewolf who seemed to wield power beyond what he should have.

Scott, sensing Derek's mistrust but not particularly bothered by it, clapped his hands together. "Well, it's been fun, Derek. I'm sure we'll see each other around." Without waiting for a response, he turned and nodded toward Stiles. "Let's go, Stiles."

As they walked away, Stiles glanced back at Derek, who was still watching them with narrowed eyes. "He doesn't like us, does he?"

Scott shrugged, completely unconcerned. "Eh, he'll come around."

Stiles raised an eyebrow. "You sound pretty sure of that."

"I am," Scott replied, his tone full of that easy confidence he'd grown into since arriving in this world. "Derek's tough, but he's not the enemy. We'll need him at some point. He just needs to learn that I'm not like the other werewolves he's met."

Stiles snorted. "Yeah, no kidding. You're like a cheat code for this whole supernatural business."

Scott grinned, but it faded slightly as his thoughts shifted. They were heading toward the clinic, but Scott's mind was already elsewhere—thinking about the future, about the dangers that lay ahead. He glanced at Stiles, who was humming some tune under his breath, seemingly oblivious to the gravity of what was coming.

"Hey, Stiles," Scott said suddenly, his voice more serious than it had been all day.

Stiles stopped humming and looked over at him, frowning. "What's up?"

Scott hesitated for a second, trying to find the right words. "Things are going to get a lot scarier. I mean, what just happened with the ghoul? That's just the beginning." His voice grew more intense. "There are going to be more monsters, more threats. And I'm not going to hold back. I'll do whatever it takes to protect the people I care about. Even if it means killing."

Stiles blinked, taken aback by the sudden seriousness in Scott's voice. "Killing?" he repeated, his voice uncertain. "You mean, like, actually—"

"Yes." Scott's voice was firm, and there was no hesitation in his eyes. "I won't hesitate to kill anyone who threatens my friends or family. You need to know what you're getting into by sticking with me. If you're not okay with that, I need to know now."

For a moment, Stiles said nothing. He stared at Scott, his expression unreadable. Then, in true Stiles fashion, he broke the tension with a dramatic sigh, throwing his arms up in mock frustration. "Wow. First, you turn into a badass werewolf, and now you're talking about killing people. And what? You think that just because you're a badass now, you're gonna dump me as your best friend?"

Scott blinked, surprised by Stiles' response. "What? No, that's not—"

But Stiles wasn't done. He put on his best wounded expression, clutching his chest theatrically. "Oh, I see how it is! You get all wolfy and tough, and suddenly, poor little human Stiles isn't good enough anymore. Is that it?"

Scott couldn't help but burst out laughing at Stiles' over-the-top dramatics. "That's not what I'm saying, and you know it!"

Stiles dropped the act and grinned. "Yeah, I know. But you're not getting rid of me that easily, Scott. Friends till death, remember?"

Scott's laughter faded, and his expression grew serious again. "Stiles, I'm being serious. I need to know if you're okay with the fact that I might have to kill people. Bad people, sure. But still…"

Stiles' grin softened into something more sincere. He met Scott's gaze, his tone more grounded now. "Scott, as long as you're not out there murdering innocent people, I'm with you. We've been through too much for me to walk away now. So yeah, I'm okay with it. You protect the people you love, and I'll be there to help, however I can."

Scott let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. Relief washed over him. He had known Stiles would understand, but hearing him say it out loud made all the difference.

"Thanks," Scott said quietly, his voice full of gratitude. "I don't think I could do this without you."

Stiles grinned again, his usual cheeky confidence back in place. "Obviously. Who else is going to keep your werewolf butt in check?"

Scott chuckled, and for a moment, the heavy mood lifted. But then, as they neared the clinic, Scott's thoughts shifted back to the future.

"So… about that bite," Scott said, glancing over at Stiles. "You still want it?"

Stiles was silent for a moment, thinking. Then, with a half-smile, he said, "I'll take it. But not now. Give me until summer break. That way, I'll have time to train and figure it out without school getting in the way."

Scott nodded, respecting Stiles' decision. "Alright, summer it is. But until then, you're gonna be my sidekick."

Stiles gasped dramatically, clutching his chest again. "*Sidekick*? Excuse me, sir! I think you mean 'partner-in-crime,' thank you very much."

Scott laughed, shaking his head. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Stiles."

As they reached the clinic, Stiles stopped the car and turned to Scott, his grin fading slightly. "Seriously though, Scott. You're not alone in this. We've got each other's backs. Always."

Scott met his gaze, the weight of everything settling on his shoulders. But he didn't feel overwhelmed by it. Stiles' words were a reminder that no matter how dangerous things got, no matter how dark the path ahead seemed, he wasn't walking it alone.

"I know," Scott said quietly, smiling at his best friend. "And I'm glad."

With that, Scott stepped out of the car, watching as Stiles drove off, leaving him in front of the animal clinic. As he walked inside to start his shift, his thoughts returned to the fight with the ghoul, Derek's wariness, and Stiles' unwavering loyalty.

There was danger ahead—more than they could ever imagine. But Scott was ready.

And he wasn't afraid.

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