Honestly? i have fallen in love with Teen Wolf. Like, can't get enough, cry when it's not there fallen in love. And i was bored, and i got some serious Hale House feelings after that episode where you see it "before" so I thought this was appropriate. It's going to be a series of one-shots just fyi. And don't forget to check out my tumblr page with all the pix! the links on my profile! i'll try and put it here too though.
h. t. t. p. / / w. w. w..d. o. v. e. l. s. a. l. v. a. t. o. r. e..t. u. m. b. l. r..c. o. m.
The Beacon Hills pack is ruled by the alpha Derek Hale, and consists of the usual bunch. Plus a few others… anyway this is about their journey towards normal life. Well, as normal as life in a werewolf pack can get.
Third Person's Point of View
Allison stepped back and peered at the wall, careful not to smudge any paint from her hands onto her face.
With a sneer she flicked the paintbrush in a spiral-like direction, curving towards the window.
"Allison?" she groaned, dropping her head in defeat.
"Up here!" she called back, attempting a smile as Lydia traipsed into the room.
"Hey! What are you…" she trailed off, her mouth agape. "Oh. My. God."
"I know, it's horrible. I've redone it like five times already." Allison bit her lip in frustration, unwilling to look back at her artwork.
"It's amazing. Derek has got to see this!" in a flourish of vanilla scented air and twirling skirts Lydia had skipped from the room, calling out the alpha's name.
"What's Lydia yelling about now?" Scott appeared in the doorway and she threw up her hands, disgusted.
"I give up!"
"Wow, Allison this is amazing." He walked towards her, slipping his hand into hers.
"Really?" she stepped back, trying to see what was so amazing about it.
She had managed to create a mural-like compilation of graceful swirls and branch life extensions in a pale shade of lavender, arcing gracefully through and around the large picture window.
"You have to see! I told you she was talented! I'm having her do my room next!" Lydia rambled on as she marched up the staircase, dragging along an annoyed Derek.
He huffed as she pulled him towards the open door, opening her arms with a flourish.
"See! What did I tell you?"
He glanced at the painting, and had to admit it was quite beautiful.
Allison had transformed the scarred and burnt room his sister had once used into something amazing.
She had even managed to have the dark wood four poster bed refurbished, draped in a sheet to guard it from the paint.
Then he focused on Scott and Allison, his first originating pack members.
Fingers linked they stood side by side gazing up at the wall, matching smiles of total calm and serenity on their faces.
It had taken quite a while to get them here, unafraid of being seen with each other, finally in a place where they could be themselves without threat looming over them.
"Very nice. You were, right. Lydia." Derek nodded grudgingly, escaping from the room as she turned her back on him.
The next to join his pack, Lydia felt the blood bond strongest.
She had been on the brink of death at his uncle's hands, and he had saved her.
It had been a complete gamble; he wasn't sure if she would live or die, but he knew that he had to try.
And it wasn't more than a few hours later when she awoke from a medically induced coma, his name on her lips.
She had never felt anything romantic for him, and for that he was grateful.
But she continued to look to him for guidance, never straying far from his side.
He could say with the utmost confidence that she would give her life for him.
Making his way down the refurbished staircase he walked into the living room, peering around at the freshly painted walls and gleaming dark wood floors.
Boyd was carrying in a plush gray couch; his muscular arms straining as he carefully placed it in front of the fireplace.
Following behind Isaac carried a brown leather ottoman that doubled as a coffee table, as well as two matching arm chairs.
Then came Erica, skipping in with a floor lamp, two glass end tables, and a large rolling crate filled with decorative pieces and a potted fern.
He watched as they moved in tandem around one another, one arm chair on either side of the couch, the end tables placed between each arm chair and it's space between the couch, the fern in the far corner of the room, the floor lamp in the other, pillows placed on the couch, a white area rug placed in front of the couch beneath the coffee table.
All the while Erica hummed a random tune to herself, smiling in delight after each item was placed down.
Derek knew for a fact that they could all sense him watching, assessing them.
There was laughter as Body narrowly avoided dropping a pair of matching white bookcases, one for each side of the fireplace.
Boyd sneered at his pack mates, each of them carrying cardboard boxes filled with books.
"Where did those come from?" he spoke up, his curiosity grabbing a hold of him.
"We all brought some. Call it a 'pack library'." Erica joked, laughing as she placed one after the other on each shelf in lightning quick succession.
He found himself smiling at that, watching as Isaac placed a flat screen TV atop the mantle.
"How'd you afford that?" he asked suspiciously.
Isaac simply gave him that cocky smirk of his, "Let's just say it was a donation."
Done with her books Erica went on to hang the pictures leaning against the wall, mostly those of artwork, although some were of them.
There was a candid shot of Scott and Allison, asleep in each other's arms.
A posed group shot of Erica, Allison, and Lydia smiling prettily, and one of Scott, Jackson, Stiles, Isaac, and Boyd showing off their biceps.
Then there was a candid of Derek smiling at Lydia during a dinner, Derek asleep between Erica and Lydia, Derek as he demonstrated a fighting move for Scott and Allison, Derek grinning as he dried off his beloved Camaro.
"Who took all these?" his voice was laced with shock and awe.
"Stiles. He's become a bit of a nut with the camera, always rambling about capturing the moment." Boyd piped up, standing beside him to admire a framed photo of Scott and Allison slow dancing.
"How did I not know he was taking these?"
Boyd shrugged. "Guess you're not as on your guard as you like to think."
He bristled and shot the young wolf a glare, but he'd already turned away with a chuckle.
Isaac placed matching lamps on the end tables, smiling at him innocently.
With a huff Derek walked into the kitchen, his favorite room in the whole house.
It had been the room least damaged in the fire that his family had perished in, and in the refurnishing that had taken place it had been touched very little.
The cabinets had remained the same; down to the very grooves he had accidently left in the surface with his new claws as a child.
The floors had been replaced with new white tile, and the walls had been redone as well with a fresh coat of pale blue paint.
The granite countertops were the same, but now they were adorned with gleaming silver appliances; a stove, a fridge, a microwave, a toaster, even a coffee maker.
Because it seemed that his group of wolves didn't know how to function without coffee.
Stiles stood at the counter currently, elbow deep in a bag of takeout.
One by one he was pulling containers of Chinese food out and placing them on the counter, mumbling names to himself.
"Need help?" he turned with an exaggerated gasp, and then shook his head.
"No it's fine. I'm just getting everything out."
They eyed one another cautiously, silently.
"Ok." Derek turned to leave, when Stiles called for him to wait.
"I just wanted to say thanks."
Stiles shrugged, "For accepting me into your pack. I mean, with the others, they're your pack. I'm… not. So, it means a lot that you're letting me stay here with you guys."
Derek shook his head at his naivety. "Stiles, you are a part of this pack. You don't have to be a werewolf to be in it. Not everyone in my family was a wolf, but we were still a pack. You are as much a pack member as anyone else here."
There was silence, and the flabbergasted Stiles just nodded.
He didn't watch as Derek left the room, inhaling the crisp fall air as he stepped onto the front porch.
The crumbling steps had been repaired, and on either side of them stretching to front the entirety of the porch were flower beds overflowing with flowered bushes Allison had called hydrangeas.
The yard around him is filled with lush green grass, erasing the barren dirt ground his sister was once buried beneath.
It fills him with a sense of something, some foreign emotion he's been feeling a lot lately but hasn't known what to call it.
He thinks it's hope, but not quite.
That could be it; he hasn't felt happiness in such a long time it's hard to tell though.
"Derek! Food!" Allison calls out, and he closes his eyes.
The sun has set, and he feels the shine of the moon beginning to peek through the trees.
Derek walked back into the house and into the dining room, smiling mutely at the scene before him.
Every seat at the long table is filled except for the one at the head of the table they seem to have reserved for him.
To-go containers of Chinese food are amassed in the center, and rice is being passed around.
He sat down and peered down the length of the table, watching his pack.
Scott and Allison are sitting beside each other, as usual, and she smiles as he places a mound of the brown rice on her plate, gesturing for more as he rolls his eyes.
Jackson has his arm over the back of Lydia's chair, offering her a piece of chicken teriyaki which she readily accepts.
Stiles and Boyd are arguing, again, over some lacrosse game.
And Isaac and Erica are devouring their full plates without much regard for anyone else around them.
He doesn't quite understand how it came to be, but he realizes that he doesn't just have a pack anymore.
They've turned his scarred barren house back into a home, blooming with life just as the flowers Lydia and Allison planted are.
They've pledged their loyalty to him, and from what he's seen throughout their time together it isn't solely because of the situations he rescued them from.
They honestly and truly care about him, about everything.
They've become his family.