The Hales – skargasm – Teen Wolf (TV) (Archive of Our Own)

The sound of his father drunkenly weeping was not, unfortunately, something new. But Stiles could tell by the bottles at his father’s feet that this was worse than usual.

“What did you do?”

Noah looked up at his son and struggled into a seated position, heedlessly dropping a nearly empty whisky bottle to the ground.

“Stiles – I – son, I am so sorry,” he began and Stiles sighed before bending and rescuing the bottle before it tipped over completely and spilt.

“I know, Dad, I know – how about we get you upstairs and – “

“NO!” Noah interrupted, grabbing Stiles by the hand. “You don’t understand – I did – I did something that I can’t take back!”

“Dad – I – “

“And it’s the worst fucking people in Beacon Hills! Shit, I don’t understand how things have got this bad!” Noah slumped back into his chair, his hands covering his face as he began to weep again.

“Dad – you’re worrying me here. How about I make you something to eat and then we can – “

“We don’t have the time! I’m so sorry, Stiles – I’m sorry!”

Derek watched as his mother tossed back the glass of whisky before turning to face him and Peter.

“And you think that drunken sot of a sheriff will be any use to us?”

“I think he will be – especially with his son as collateral,” Peter replied, taking a much more sedate sip of his drink. “You have to admit, despite being an utter drunk, he’s kept it together enough for people to not vote him out of office. And it’s always helpful when we have law enforcement on our side.”

“Good point. Derek – you’re going to take point on taking care of the boy?” Derek smiled, pleased.

“Happy to – I’ve had my eye on him a few times.”

“Derek – “ his mother said in a warning tone. “I know how you get with your toys. If we’re using him to keep the sheriff in line, you can’t be reckless.”

“I promise not to break him – too much,” he smirked. Peter chuckled before slapping him on the back.

“I swear, you get more inventive with each one,” Peter said, walking over to place his glass on the tray. “I’ll keep an eye on him, Talia, make sure the boy stays in one piece.”

“Fine – I have a meeting with Whittemore – we need to discuss Isaac’s case.”

“Is there a problem?” Derek asked.

“No – well, Whittemore is whining as per usual. He says Isaac will have to serve at least some time but I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

“He can handle it,” Derek said, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“It’s not about whether or not he can handle it – it’s more about the message it sends. We don’t want our rivals to think that we can’t protect our own people.”

“No one is going to think that, Tal,” Peter said. “Do you want me to come with?”

“I can handle Whittemore. I’m just trying to decide what’s a reasonable amount of time – I don’t like being without Isaac – he’s far too useful to leave him languishing in jail.”

“True.” Talia shook her head as if coming to a decision.

“Whatever – Derek, put the boy into the pool house. It’s close enough to keep an eye on him but far enough away that he won’t see anything untoward.” Derek nodded and then turned to leave the room, taking his mother’s words as his dismissal. “And Derek?”

He paused at the doorway and turned to face her.

“Collect the boy from the Sheriff personally – make sure he’s aware of what he’s done. It’s a damned shame the way he’s behaved since Claudia died.” Derek nodded and then slipped out of the study, leaving his mother and uncle to their discussion.

“I don’t understand – what the hell are you saying?”

“I’m saying that the Hales caught me – I was – I was gambling at one of their establishments and I lost. I lost big,” Noah said, rubbing at his eyes. “And I was using money taken from the evidence room – I was going to return it!” he said quickly when Stiles gasped.

“You gambled at one of the Hales’ underground gambling rooms with money you stole from the station?!” Stiles could barely believe what his father was saying, pacing up and down as he tried to take in all the information. “Jesus, Dad, I knew things were bad but – how much? How much are we talking?”

“It’s not about the money!”

“The fuck it isn’t!”

“They – they gave me back the money so there’s no trace of it being missing at the station,” Noah replied, reaching for the whisky bottle at his feet, wincing when Stiles grabbed it out of his hand.

“I think you’ve had more than enough of that!” Stiles said sharply. “So – you lost a bundle and they just gave you the money back out of the kindness of their hearts?!”

“I’ve said I’m sorry!” Noah whined. “And they just want a couple of favours from me in the future. It’s nothing bad!”

“Fuck! It’s nothing bad that the Beacon Hills equivalent of the Mafia now has you in their pocket? Is that really the line of bull you want to go with?”

“You have no idea how hard it’s been since – since your mother died! I did the best that I could, Stiles, but the weight of the grief, of everything was crushing me!”

“I was fucking there! I know how bad it was – I lost my mother and you dived head-first into a bottle!” Stiles raked his hands through his hair, trying to think of a way out of the situation. “You go to your boss – you go to your boss’s boss! You admit everything and – “

“Stiles, I can’t do that! I just can’t – besides, I already gave my word,” Stiles snorted sarcastically but Noah continued speaking. “And they made me sign some paperwork.”

“Paperwork! What fucking kind of paperwork?”

“They – they wanted collateral, to make sure that I didn’t go back on the agreement,” Noah said, biting his nails whilst looking longingly at the bottle in Stiles’ hand. With a heavy sigh, Stiles handed over the whisky bottle, barely able to hide his disgust as his father took several big gulps directly from the bottle.

“Hold on – what collateral? We re-mortgaged the house to pay off Mom’s medical bills. What collateral?”

“Stiles – “ A loud knock at the front door made Noah flinch and for just a moment, Stiles felt pity for his father.

“I’ll send them away and we will finish this discussion,” he said before turning away from his father and heading to the front door. Ripping the door open, he looked at the man who was just about to knock again. In other circumstances, he would have appreciated the beauty before him: the man had flawless bone structure, his cheekbones highlighted by the artful stubble, the hazel eyes striking beneath heavy brows. “I’m sorry but we haven’t got the time for -”

“You’ll make time.” The voice didn’t match the face and body, soft and almost husky.

“We don’t want whatever you’re selling buddy, so why don’t you – “

“I assume that means your father hasn’t filled you in on everything. Let me in please, Stiles.”

“Who the hell do you think – “ Before he could finish his sentence, the man had moved, grabbing Stiles by the hair and yanking back his head. He struggled to retain his footing as he was pushed backwards until he slammed into the wall, the man suddenly pressed against him from chest to groin.

“I did say please,” the man said. “My name is Derek Hale – ah, by the look in your eyes your father has told you something! Where is he?”

With as much strength as he could muster, Stiles slammed his fist into the man’s gut, crying out as he lost a chunk of hair in the process of Hale being knocked backwards. He followed up with a punch to the face, feeling teeth cutting his fingers as his blow landed. Hale stumbled into the wall and Stiles turned and ran, heading for the gun safe in the kitchen. He was tackled from behind, landing heavily on the floor with the weight of Hale on top of him. He tried to crawl his way out from beneath the body atop his but Hale grabbed both of his hands and wrenched them behind his back, shackling them both with one of his hands. Stiles turned his face and saw that Hale’s lip was bleeding, some of the blood visible on his teeth as he grinned down at Stiles.

“Still got some fight left in you – well that’s good news for me,” Hale said. “Now why don’t you be a good little boy and we’ll go and have a conversation with your father so that you know the exact situation. Sound good?”

Stiles nodded, then rammed his head back, slamming it into Hale’s face. As the man reared backwards, Stiles scrambled out from beneath him, got to his feet and ran over to the gun-box, putting in the code as quickly as he could. The door swung open but the gun-safe was empty.

“Well, damn, you’re racking up the demerits quicker than anyone I’ve ever known.” He turned to face Hale who was now on his feet, wiping the blood from his face. “What exactly were you going to do if you managed to get a gun I wonder?”

Enraged, Stiles attacked, ramming his shoulder into Hale’s midsection and driving the man backwards. He cried out when an elbow landed in the centre of his back, falling and cracking his head on the floor. Dazed, he could do nothing when Hale took his arm and dragged him back to the living room, releasing his arm as he stood in front of Noah.

“Noah – good to see that you’re sticking to your normal routine,” Hale said and looking up, Stiles could see that despite all of the noise that the two of them fighting must have caused, his dad was still in his armchair, cradling the whisky bottle. “I guess you couldn’t find time between bottles to fill your boy in so I’ll do it for you.”

“Dad – where’s the – “ Before he could finish his question, Hale reached down the side of the armchair and pulled out his Dad’s service weapon. With sure fingers, he unloaded the gun before slipping both it and the bullets in the pocket of his suit jacket.

“You’re a feisty one and no mistake!” Hale said before taking a seat on the couch. “Noah, you never said your boy was a fighter – you might have been able to bargain for more money if you’d told us a little more about him.”

“You – Peter said I would have more time,” his Dad said, avoiding Stiles’ glare. “It wasn’t meant to – Peter said I had until Thursday!”

“It is Thursday! Jesus, how much have you drunk? Never mind – as long as you’re sober and capable when we need you, that’s all that matters.” Hale turned to face Stiles, a smirk on his arrogant face. “Stiles – your Dad has been a naughty, naughty boy but out of the kindness of our hearts, we’re going to help him out.”

“Fuck off,” Stiles spat out, sitting up and cradling his head where a sizeable bump was growing.

“Tsk tsk, language! I’ll let you off because you don’t know all of the rules yet but don’t push it,” Hale said, looking far too comfortable on the couch. “See, your Dad didn’t have the credit to play high stakes but when he came in with a load of cash, well, who were we to turn him away? Unfortunately, lady luck wasn’t on his side and he lost. A lot. A lot more than he had on him as it happens.” The whole time he was talking, Hale was smiling, like they were just chatting about the weather. “Fortunately for him, we decided he might be of some assistance in a few matters that we’re handling and your father agreed to help us out. See – everyone wins.”

“Whatever the fuck you think you can make him do, you can’t stop me from going to the authorities!” Stiles said, struggling to get to his feet with his ears ringing. “I’ll help my Dad cope with whatever happens and – “ He cried out again when Hale got swiftly to his feet and slapped Stiles across the face, knocking him into the other armchair. Stiles struggled to sit up, falling backwards and looking up as Hale hovered over him menacingly, his hands on the arms of the chair.

“There will be no involving the authorities – even if you think your father could cope with the consequences of his actions, a deal has been made.” The voice that had been soft and husky was now much harsher even though Hale didn’t raise his voice once.

“He hasn’t got any collateral to give you and once this gets out – “ Hale laughed in his face, his eyes twinkling with dark merriment.

“This isn’t going to get out. Maybe you shook a few brain cells loose but let me lay this out for you.” Hale grabbed his chin, forcing Stiles’ face up at an awkward and painful angle. “You’re relocating, Stiles. Your fabulous father over there is going into rehab and we’re going to take care of you in his absence. And of course, as long as your father does as he’s told, you’ll be absolutely fine – in fact, you might even grow to enjoy our hospitality.”

“You are out of your fucking mind!” Stiles’ ears rang even more when Hale casually slapped him again, rocking his head to the side.

“Careful with the insults.”

“Stiles – son, I’m going to get myself straight, do a couple of favours for the Hales and then things can get back to normal,” Noah said and Stiles turned to look at his father. His eyes were blurry with tears, his ears were ringing and his head felt like shit.

“Are you – did you sell me to them?!” he asked, shocked to his core.

“No – not sell! I – they just thought that with me being in rehab – it would be good for you to be out of town whilst this is going on!”

“What do you – out of town? What the fuck?!” He looked up at Hale who had been staring at him the whole time. “Are you out of your mind? I’m not coming with you – “

“You’re coming with me and until your father repays his debt you’re staying with me. And before you argue, you might be all for your dad ‘fessing up his sins and paying his debt to society, but then you’d have to consider his debt to us – and we don’t generally take penance as payment.” Derek grinned again before releasing Stiles’ chin and stepping back. “Go pack a bag – you have fifteen minutes. I need to talk to your father.”

“You – you have got to be – “ Stiles climbed to his feet, stumbling backwards when Hale moved threateningly towards him.

“Don’t make me repeat myself. Give me your cell phone.”

“What?”

“Give. Me. Your. Cellphone. I don’t want you getting ideas of calling anyone while you’re packing. You can contact your college once we get back to the house.”

Stiles shook his head, unable to believe what was happening. This was insanity! Hale stepped forward and reached into Stiles’ pocket, yanking out his cell phone before Stiles could even take a step back.

“Off you go – pack enough for a long-ish stay, although if the clothes you’re wearing are any indication, we’ll have to kit you out. Off you go!”

“Dad – “ he began, barely able to believe that his father was just sitting there whilst this was going on in front of him.

“Stiles – please, just do as he says. We can talk – figure things out later. Okay?” His Dad looked terrified as he looked between Stiles and Hale and Stiles realised that this was real. His Dad had given him up as collateral and expected Stiles to just go along with it? How was his life such a farce?

Realising he wasn’t going to be able to rely on his father, he turned and ran out of the room, heading to his bedroom. He’d pack and he’d go with this Derek Hale – he’d find out what they had on his father and figure out some way out of this whole ridiculous situation.

And if Derek Hale tried to lay a single finger on him, Stiles would show him just how feisty he really was.