The sun was setting as Stiles did his homework on the back porch of Peter and Derek's home, like he had for the past week as Scott ran drills. It wasn't exactly fair, but Stiles was the only human in the bunch, and he knew he didn't really want the alternative either.

Besides, homework wasn't that bad.

He slowly ate the sandwich Derek had gifted him as he answered questions and filled in worksheet after worksheet for the both of them. Most of it was easy, and anything he hadn't known so far, Peter had been kind enough to fill in the blanks when he needed it.

After a full week, a nice routine was forming. Well, it was nice for Stiles. Scott's not-so-subtle huff from across the yard told him that he would trade with Stiles in a heartbeat.

"How many more times do I have to do this?" Scott whined. "You said ten runs was trained."

Stiles pulled his attention away from his own tedious assignment in time to see Derek with his hands on his hips as he shook his head. "I said do ten and we'd talk about it," he reminded Scott. "And you did ten, but I decided it wasn't good enough. What do you say we aim for a hundred?"

Stiles smirked and ducked his head, noticing Peter was doing the same thing out of the corner of his eye as Derek used his stern coach voice. Stiles was so used to being on the receiving end of it, he was itching to stand up and run a lap. A conditioned response, clearly.

"Are you serious?" Scott growled.

Peter jogged down the few steps that led out into the yard and Stiles no longer tried to hide that he was paying attention. He was allowed to be in the know here, so he reasoned he might as well take it. Scott would want to rehash the entire session later anyway.

Derek's eyes widened and he advanced toward Scott about the time that Peter made it to the pair, putting a hand on Derek's shoulder to stop him.

"I know it seems excessive, Scott, but the key to learning control is repetition," Peter offered. "You can't be too confident when you're in the thick of things. You have to assume that you'll lose all that carefully constructed control at any time. That way you'll always be prepared. Okay?"

"I am in control, Peter," Scott groaned, throwing his hands up in the air. "How do you even know this is the best way to train me? It's not like you guys have a real pack."

Stiles bit the inside of his cheek to keep from visibly wincing on the off chance that anyone was going to look his way soon. Scott knew better than that, and yet he kept insisting on bringing up things that it was obvious both Derek and Peter would rather forget.

Stiles knew his friend was beyond aggravated at the way things had turned out, especially since he couldn't live in his blissful ignorance bubble anymore, but goading two grown-up werewolves really didn't seem like a smart move. Something that he had told Scott more than once lately. Clearly it wasn't making much of an impact.

As much as Stiles hated the idea for Scott, he was starting to think him getting his ass handed to him by one or both of them might help it sink in. Nothing else was working.

"Enough," Derek bellowed. "We were all trained this way in our family, so we know it works." He took a deep breath and put his hands on his hips, steadying himself. "Listen, Peter and I trained together," he started again, his voice more even and much lower. "We helped train my little sister Cora too. It works. I promise. You just have to trust me. Trust us."

Peter's jaw flexed enough that Stiles could see it all the way from the porch now. Whatever he was going to say was clearly caught in his throat, and he didn't seem capable of forming words anymore. Not nice ones, anyway.

Scott opened his mouth, about to argue again, when Stiles stood up and dumped everything out of his lap onto the porch. "Scott. Don't, man," he warned.

Scott shot him a sideways glance, still glaring angrily, and Derek did the same, but his was much softer. More grateful. Something inside Stiles warmed at the sight, but it wasn't something he had time to concentrate on as Peter stormed off, bypassing the house completely.

When Stiles turned back to the other two, he noticed that Scott's fists were unclenched and he looked appropriately sheepish after his outburst.

"Am... am I out of the pack?"

"You're a dick," Stiles called from the porch before hopping over the railing to join them finally. "You know that, don't you? You can be so insensitive sometimes."

"I..."

"No, stop," Stiles interrupted. "You know their whole family died. It was the biggest fucking thing to happen in Beacon Hills in forever. Or since. That's why they don't have a pack, you idiot. They all died. You don't think before you speak, and it's gonna get you in trouble one of these days. They should kick you out."

Derek laid a hand on Stiles' shoulder as he got close enough, not realizing that now it was him that was on the war path toward Scott, his eyes blazing. He stopped, unable to do anything different with Derek's hand in the way. His strength made it feel like Stiles had stepped in front of a huge boulder. As tough as he felt sometimes, there was no going up against that kind of strength.

"It's okay, Stiles," Derek issued softly. "Thank you for explaining it for me. For us. And he's right, Scott," he said, turning to him. "We... put it off. We didn't want to replace them. We knew that wasn't possible. We don't want to be training anyone else, to be honest. But we don't have a choice. We're not going to leave you out by yourself. That's too dangerous. You don't deserve that. We know that. Peter knows that, as mad as he is right now."

"But they should," Stiles repeated petulantly, making Derek chuckle.

"I know you didn't mean it like that, Scott, but Stiles is right. You really do have to be more careful about what you say. That right there is actually what's showing me you don't have the kind of control you think you do. It's not all about running around and us doing drills, okay? It's about control on all levels. You maybe have one. And I'm trying to help you with the others, but you gotta help yourself too. You have to trust me."

"Should I go apologize?" Scott implored.

"No," Derek said with a sigh. "He'll be fine. He just needs time. He's the Alpha and he didn't want to be. This just reminds him of why."

"He... didn't want to be?" Stiles asked before he could stop himself.

"Well, I mean, it was supposed to be me, but I wasn't old enough."

"And now?" Scott interjected.

"Now I guess I could, but we never talked about it. Never wanted to either. This just... brings up a bunch of bad shit nobody wanted to relive, and now we have to because we need to keep Beacon Hills safe. That's always been our job. That will always be our job."

"That's a sucky job," Stiles announced.

"Yeah, believe me, if I could resign, I totally would," Derek said, forcing a teasing tone that no one bought into. "But this is our life." He issued another deep sigh, before looking out to the tree line on the other side of the house. "Let me go talk to him."

Stiles and Scott nodded as Derek disappeared without another word, leaving them truly alone for the first time that day.

Stiles wasted no time rounding on Scott. "I know you're dealing with a lot, but you need to fucking behave. They're giving you everything here, Scott. We'd be lost without them. I'd probably be dead. So... ya know... cut it out."

"I didn't..."

"Yeah, yeah," Stiles said with a wave of his hand. "I'm tired of your excuses. Just stop. Get your head out of your ass before you're all by yourself. It's... it's not about you and Allison all the time."

Stiles didn't bother to wait for a response on that one, knowing it was better to leave Scott stewing in his own mistake so he could truly understand the depth of it. He'd had to do it a few times after his own mom died and Scott didn't really get how hard it was for Stiles. Not that he wanted him to either. It was a wild catch-22 that had almost ended their friendship once upon a time.

And here they were again, with Scott no wiser than the last time they had gone through this shit. Stiles knew that he had been forced to grow up faster than most people his age, but Scott always reminded him just how much of a maturity gap there was between them. And he hated it. For both of them.

He didn't like being reminded that if he had met Scott recently, instead of kindergarten, they might not be friends. But it was hard to ignore when he pulled this shit.

When he made it back to the porch, he picked everything up off the deck and forced himself to get back to work. He didn't even look up as he heard Scott pacing and mumbling something, determined not to give him any help.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed, but Stiles was almost finished with the last bit of homework he had when Derek and Peter reappeared and Scott finally stopped pacing.

"Peter, I am so sorry," Scott said as soon as they were visible. "I wasn't thinking and it was so dumb and..."

Peter put a hand up, a smile on his face. "Scott, it's all right. I'm sorry too," he began. "I shouldn't have let it get to me like that. But, I hope you see now why it's so important to keep control. Even the most experienced of us have trouble maintaining it sometimes."

"I understand," Scott said, nodding emphatically.

Peter reached into his pocket next and pulled something out that Stiles couldn't quite make out in the darkness that surrounded them now, but Scott's next set of words made it clear what had been exchanged. And it made Stiles laugh.

"Did you... kill this rabbit?"

"No," Peter said between chuckles, "I didn't. Talia, a long time ago, gave me that when we were kids. We both had a good luck charm. A grounding element. She was my sister first, before she was anyone's mother, and we took care of each other. It's... it's helped me a lot, but I don't actually need it anymore."

"Thanks," Scott said, his voice shaking slightly. "I'll keep it safe."

"I know you will," Peter agreed. "But right now we need to take a break and get some food. A huge Italian dinner is headed this way, requested by this big hunk of man over here."

He patted Derek's shoulder when he said that, making Derek visibly uncomfortable. Something that even Stiles could see from his position on the porch.

"What... did you lose a bet or something, Peter?" Stiles teased.

Derek grinned wide as they all walked back his way. "Why, that's exactly what happened, Stiles. Peter here thought he could flirt his way past Scott's mom to get into the morgue to check out that clerk guy and she shut him down so hard. It was hilarious."

Stiles guffawed at the admission as they came back into the lone light still on above Stiles' head. "That's fantastic," he admitted. "When was this?"

"Uh, like, Monday morning," Derek continued. "She didn't say anything, Scott?"

"You flirted with my mom?" he asked, completely disgusted by the prospect. "Peter, that's..."

"That's what?" he challenged. "Do not say gross. Do not."

Derek and Stiles both laughed even louder as they walked inside, shutting the patio door behind everyone.

As they all gathered around the island, waiting for the doorbell to ring with their feast, Stiles couldn't help but look around at each of their faces and try to remember how any of this had come to be. He knew they wouldn't have chosen this particular path, but now that they were on it, he couldn't see how it could've happened any other way.

Stiles Stilinski was a big believer in everything happening for a reason, and even though he wasn't sure what it was this time, it was clear there was one.