The Spark of Change (Teen Wolf)

AUTHOR'S NOTES; Long time no seeeee. Eh. Next chapter is also done but I don't know if I'll post it as a double update. It has been a realllllly long time since I last updated this though, so I guess we'll see if the commenters convince me.

I hope y'all have been well, though, and that you've been enjoying this work and, for those of you that follow it, the rest of this series which follows the MC's journey through reincarnation. Although, considering this is the MC'S first significant life, reincarnator shit doesn't happen until the next parts of the series (shrugs).

Well, y'all know the drill. Thx for reading and all the support 💙 and I hope to here from y'all in the comments!

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"Our realm has grown, my dear Guardian!" Suhel sings happily as his spirit form twirls around his true tree form, now a young tree growing tall from the center of the old stump.

I snort, perched on the edge of the old stump as I watch him, his never ending silver braid trailing him and wrapping around the stomp as he goes round and round. "Glad to see you so happy because taking all those Vows at once fucking hurt."

The not-boy stops his whirling dance, coming to clasp my hands, something kind and encouraging in his presence. "It will get easier."

I grimace, remembering the intense pleasure-pain, the floaty, distant feeling in my head, the numbness and tingling of my skin, and the way my body started to feel too full and constricting. "I hope so."

"We gain power from your Vassals by the nature of their Vows. Next time, rather than each new Vow being a bucket of water poured into a cup, you will have grown so that it is more like a mere drop in the ocean," he explains, swinging our hands.

I tilt my head, slowly nodding as I start to comprehend the idea. Suhel smiles, and I reach out to rest my hand on his toga like clothes, the fabric like a gateway to the night sky just beneath my fingertips even though I can't really feel anything. Touching Suhrl's spirit form was like touching something that both was and wasn't really there at all. It was much like air. I could feel it but it had no real substance. But, sometimes, it's like I can still feel the steadiness of my partner, and when I reach for his silver hair, able to see the movement caused by my fingers, I swear I feel silken strands.

Suhel had once implied that his form was influenced by me, and that his appearance was meant to resonate with me in some way, and it makes sense considering we did seem to share the coloring of our hair and eyes, like an oddly distorted reflection. But, was he a reflection of me or I of him? Did he take that form to put me at ease when we first met? And if not for that, then why?

"Oh, by the way, I have some good news for you!" Suhel chirps cheerfully. "There are two more Hales alive that I'm sure the alpha would want to meet."

I choke and then squeak. "I'm sorry, WHAT?'" I grip him by the shoulders and shake the pale skinned not-boy, making him sway wildly like a forest canopy in a tornado, "And you are just telling me this now?!"

The tree man pouts. "After I was cut down, I lost much of my sentience, child. I was only distantly aware of that which was happening around me, especially because I was focusing so much energy on keeping myself from succumbing to the poison inside me. I knew of them, but they were of no real consequence or importance." The entity shrugs carelessly and I wince at the indifferent response, reminding myself once again that a nonhuman, near godly existence can't be expected to really give too many fucks about anything not directly related to their own matters. Considering the nemeton's main purpose is to balance the supernatural and mundane worlds and preserve peace between the two and to keep the apocalypse from occurring, it makes sense that he just wouldn't really give a damn. Not to mention that, while he loves the current Alpha Hale, he has also let slip some resentment to the previous one, Talia, Derek's mother, for not doing her duty and allowing him to be cut down in the first place. "I'm telling you now that I've remembered and things have calmed a bit!"

I resist the urge to facepalm. "You're right. Sorry. Thank you for telling me, Suhel."

The tree smiles and proceeds to tell me the horrifying stories of Cora and Malia Hale, Derek's sister and my own friend from years ago and Peter's fucking secret daughter with a goddamn mercenary. Because of course it couldn't be anything remotely easy. And now that the Ascendance is over, I get the job of breaking all this, plus Peter and Kate's undeaths, to Derek myself. Yay, I think dully, somewhere between wanting to cry and laugh.

"Oh, you should wake up now! It's been a few days since you fell asleep and any longer and your friends will worry. Don't forget to come visit me," Suhel tells me and, before I can respond, he shoves me lightly back, and the nemeton's clearing vanishes into darkness around me.

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I wake up warm. Someone's breathing is stirring the baby hairs along my forehead and someone else is curled against my back, head between my shoulder blades. Pack bonds humming in my chest, I open my eyes to find the den dimly lit from early dawn light peaking through the high windows of the basement. I smile, recognizing lovely, pale, mole covered skin. Stiles is sleeping so close I can feel every rise of his chest with every breath he takes. I can even see the dark lashes against his high cheekbones and I force myself to breathe through the sudden, overwhelming urge to kiss plush lips.

I come to the abrupt realization that, yup, I'm fucking screwed because my little crush has utterly spiraled out of control. I also acknowledge that I'm a total coward when it comes to my people and that I will never, ever risk driving my closest friend away. As much as I love Scott, I'm pretty sure I could survive losing him. I wouldn't be okay, definitely not, but losing Stiles might actually break me. I relied on him too much. Cost benefit analysis says the risk isn't worth it.

I breathe out again, feeling the way my chest throbs and my throat tightens. I lean forward to kiss his forehead before detangling myself, finally accepting my feelings for my very best friend and how I cannot let them ever see the light of day.

I sit up, tangling my fingers in Issac's hair on my other side, warming at the way Sunya and Scott are curled above our heads, close enough to touch. Surprisingly, Erica, Boyd, Lydia, and Jackson are also still around, despite it having been several days. Even Baby Iggy and Calista are sleeping close by, which, unlike the previous four, isn't really shocking since they were pack with no place else to go. Only Derek, Mama Mel, and Papa Sheriff were missing. While I could feel the adults are far off, at work likely, Derek is near.

Needing to get away from Stiles's sweet and tempting self, lest I do something stupid like blirt out my newly realized feelings, I decide to go hunt for my Alpha. As I pass the unfamiliar crib, I pause, finding big gold eyes staring at me. I blink. Baby Iggy blinks back, and shrugging, I scoop the baby up since he's awake anyway, holding him against my chest, watching supernatural gold melt into deep brown.

Iggy snuffles against my skin and I hum. "I need a bath, huh? I hope it's not too bad, kiddo." Iggy gives me a gummy little smile that I take to mean that, no, I didn't smell completely awful from my little coma. "Oh, thank you. I'm glad it's not too rough on you super sniffer, Teddy Bear. Aren't you just the sweetest?"

Iggy giggles.

I slip out the front door to find Derek lost in thought, perched on the steps of the porch as the sky begins to lighten from indigo to blue streaked with golden light. He startles when the wood creaks under my foot, our pack bond sparking with shock and then overwhelming, happy relief. I grip his shoulder, keeping him from rising, instead plopping next to him. Derek grins broadly, bunny teeth on full display as he pulls me close by the nape of my neck, resting his head against mine. He flashes Alpha red eyes and I reply with Guardian silver. I smile wryly at the way my heart flutters, too tired to even try to deny that I'm catching feelings for Derek on top of the looming disaster that is my newly acknowledged ones for Stiles. Didn't know I was the greedy type.

Derek nuzzles his nose to mine before dipping his head to do the same to Iggy in my arms, and my heart melts. It's all such a mess that I feel my eyes start to water as a chuckle bubbles up and I forcefully clamp down on my bond to keep the emotions from being felt by the others.

Derek flinches, furrowing his eyebrows in concern, but all I can do is give a helpless smile, leaning forward to kiss his cheek in place of all the things I can't say. Crushing on Derek isn't as dangerous as doing so on Stiles. It's not years and years of friendship on the line, but honestly, it's not great either. If Derek catches wind, he'd probably be horrified. He might even blame himself or, god forbid, think he subconsciously manipulated me into falling for him. He might compare himself to that horrid bitch even when he did nothing wrong, merely because he's older than me. Worse yet, he might be so uncomfortable he just… runs. Ah, that'd hurt. And destroy our pack… and then the fucking territory… probably resulting in a lot of death and chaos… and an apocalypse…

Never mind. Having feelings for Derek is way worse than having them for Stiles.

Positively exasperated with my own foolishness, I press another kiss to my worried friend's scruffy cheek and then to Iggy's dark curls, allowing me to hide my watery eyes. A hand threading through my hair turns me back to the wolf, though, his face deeply serious. "What is it?"

"There are many things you and Stiles need to be filled in on," I tell him, a deflection that sounds like it answers his question, but doesn't. "Two good things, and two bad ones, I guess, but the extremes are kind of insane in this case."

He raises an eyebrow. "Well, at least there is some good news."

I grimace, "Yeah, but it will still sting a bit, I think."

"Great," he tells me dryly, getting to his feet and facing the forest that surrounds my house. Ironically, looking at his broad back, it's the first time I notice he's shirtless and it makes me want to laugh again because I got so damn sappy I didn't even notice, which is really bad because it means I'm not even just lusting after him at this point. Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck-

My eyes catch the triskelion tattoo on his skin and I remember the amount of weight I'm about to drop on those strong shoulders of his. My jaw clenches in guilt. I don't want him to hate me. If I had been stronger or wiser, I could have kept Kate from coming back. And with Peter, in order to protect Lydia, I'd have to make sure he came back safely.

I can't let Derek kill Peter again. The part of me that's a Guardian won't allow it because he really was a victim. That said, I also won't force Derek to accept Peter beyond that, but knowing him, he'll want to keep an eye on his uncle, whether it's because he's family, or Derek's guilt, or simply because Peter is a dangerous, dangerous man. I'll be essentially forcing the situation and Derek's possible resentment would hurt.

I stand, pressing my head to the triskelion on his skin, smelling his forest and leather scent. He turns around, sliding his fingers back into my hair and I can't help but smile at the thought that he seems to like it since he plays with the strands so often. I gaze at the glorious sunrise. "Let's go. I need to get clean."

Derek follows me like a shadow, and by the time we get to my room, a slight fatigue starts to set into my limbs. Being asleep for so long does that to you, I suppose. Sensing Derek's reluctance to leave me, I pull him into the bathroom with me, leaving the door open. "What-"

"Just sit in here with me. I'm feeling a bit weak. Here, take the baby." Derek sits on the bathroom rug with Iggy while I shower behind the curtain, and I eventually end up seated in the tub listening to him fill me in on the last few days. Iggy is officially emergency fostering with Sheriff Papa and has been adjusting okay, but he does better with the nonhumans of the pack who can sense the bond better, particularly Derek and Stiles, funnily enough. Apparently, whenever they set him down, he had a habit of crawling to my comatose form in the part of the den covered in blankets and fluffy futons that the pack uses for communal sleeping. I practically got diabetes from the sweetness of that when Derek told me.

Calista has moved into Melissa's house's spare bedroom, but let's be honest, like the rest of the pack, she'll probably be at my house more often than not. Calista had also been able to call her family, her elderly dad and kids, who are planning to come out here to see her. She hadn't told them what happened, just that something had, but her dad was just happy to know she was alive. I have a feeling that there won't be any issue telling them the truth.

We were really starting to run out of space for pack members now, but thankfully, the pack house's constructution had been kicked into fucking high gear like nobody's buisness. Apparently, the dwarves had been honored and eager to start. When Derek earnestly reminds me that he wants my help deciding between a few of the final designs, that he wants this to be a home for me as well, I spend a few moments silently screaming behind the shower curtain in a weird mix of happiness and despair because, god dammit, this sweet, considerate man is going to be the death of me.

With summer break in full swing, our friends, the reluctant ones or otherwise, were spending a lot of time learning about the supernatural world. Jackson, Lydia, Isaac, Erica, and Boyd were studying our archives of knowledge to figure out what their futures as supernaturals would look like. Jordan Parish had also been around a lot for the same reason. When Stiles couldn't find much about Hellhounds, he, in a moment of sheer brilliance, called Ezra, the leader of the vampire coven, to see if he had any information. And, holy hell, yes, yes he did.

Hellhounds were amortal spirits. Unlike werewolves, it was not a new spirit born to every person, but rather an ancient one that passed on from host to host after they died. So, Jordan's hellhound spirit is likely at least a millennium old with a long line of previous hosts whereas Derek's spirit was born when he was, and Scott's was born when he was bitten. That's means it's very fucking old and intelligent and stupid powerful because of it. Subordinates of Guardians and holding a similar position as banshees in their realms, and therefore a kinship with them, hellhounds are one of the main line defenses of the balance between the supernatural and mundane worlds. In the modern age, hellhounds, (also known as Cerberus and grims), did so by hiding evidence of the supernatural completely using their unique abilities, particularly their command over fire to burn things to ash.

I was spot on about the new deputy not liking that.

To Derek, Papa Sheriff', and Jordan's own immense displeasure, the man seemed to be most content when watching over me or interacting with Lydia. He spent a great deal of time over the past few days hovering near where I slept in deep conversation with the red head, which would probably have been horrifying to me if all my instincts weren't declaring that the man was perfectly safe. Even Derek had to grudgingly admit that Parish seems like good people and he is considering bringing him into the pack. Hellhounds didn't need pack unlike typical shifters, but I think Derek wants to keep the man close to keep an eye on him, especially because he'll be working closely with me regardless.

Lastly, and most troublesomely, Gerard had come to town, declaring war on our pack in retribution. The fucking audacity. Apparently, an omega has already ended up on the wrong end of a broadsword. I mentally tell Suhel to keep a closer eye on our people, particularly the ones who dwell in the preserve full time.

"Don't worry, dear Guardian. Gerard and his men will find our land most… unfriendly," Suhel's dry cackles ring in my ears, making me grin sinisterly. I don't know what the nemeton has planned or how he could make things unpleasant for the murderous old geezer, but I'm sure I'll find it hilarious.

After I finish showering and dressing, we head downstairs to start breakfast, finding Feenie already waiting for us with cheer and delight. We have only just entered the kitchen when there is a commotion and Stiles comes spilling out of the basement door in a heap of lanky limbs. "Layla?"

"Habibi," I reply easily in Arabic, a term of endearment that I could be using platonically, but I'm not.

Stiles doesn't say anything, just gathers me tightly against him before making coffee for all of us, just the way we like it. Calista joins us next, hesitant and hopeful, but I usher the weretiger in. Stiles leaves and comes back with a long strip of soft, colorful fabric that looks very familiar. "Hey, uh, we raided your attic for baby stuff for Iggy. Sorry, we didn't ask-"

"It's fine, Stiles. That used to be one of Sunny's wraps, right? I don't mind, it's not like you could have asked me. Of course he can use them until he gets his own stuff, and I'm sure some of it can be used even after," I snatch the long, patterned cloth, nostalgia filling me at the sight of the distinctly North African embroidery, and easily loop it around myself before I scoop the adorable werebear back up and settle him onto the folds, adoring the sensation. It's like a constant cuddle and it's fucking magical.

I hum contentedly, helping make breakfast while Stiles handles the stove by mixing and cutting various things behind Iggy's back as the sweet baby begins to fall asleep, chatting quietly with Calista. "Have these guys been answering your questions well?"

She nods, fidgeting with her mug. "Yeah, it's been…"

"A lot," I offer sympathetically. "Yeah, we can understand that. One moment, we were fooling around in the woods and the next, something was attacking us, and our whole world was turned upside down. I became a fancy light bulb and Scotty… got to experience the inconvenience of a "time of the month."" The older woman burst into a fit of laughter even as Derek shot me his most unimpressed set of doom eyebrows. Stiles merely snickers, flipping pancakes.

"I can't believe you guys were bitten like me," Calista admits, dirty blonde hair spilling forward. "You kids sure as hell handled it all better then I did. I just… ran."

"You did your best to protect your loved ones. That's- there's no shame in that. That's basically all we did, too. We had each other, so you were actually much worse off," I inform her grimly. "But you survived all on your own. It's pretty badass."

The older woman smiles a bit shyly, and I observe some of the self loathing and pain ease in her aura. Soon after, the others are waking up and crushing me in their gorilla grips. Isaac and Sunya were the clingiest as per normal, but it's not like I didn't adore my siblings, so it was more than welcome. Realizing that I need to chat privately with those two in particular, I abruptly drag them outside to the tree line, leaving breakfast preparations to the others. "Isaac, Sunya, are you two feeling okay about all of this?"

"What do you mean?" Isaac asks curiously as I flop to the ground, my two siblings copying me until we are all seated in a triangle facing one another, Iggy still napping in his sling.

"A lot of new people are hanging around and the pack is expanding. Are you guys still comfortable?"

Sunya hesitates, but relaxes when I boop her nose. "It was kinda noisy, but I like having people around. I- I don't really like it when you sleep too long, though."

I wince. "I'm sorry about that, baby, I'll try not to do it anymore, but I can't control it yet."

She nods. "I know, but I miss you when your gone."

"Me too," Isaac admits, timidly grabbing one of my hands and I have to forcibly resist the urge to glomp them for being so damn cute. Instead I just push my affection over the packbonds making them scoot closer and hold my hands tighter.

Sunny reaches over to delicately touch Iggy's head. "This… Mama used to use it with me like that…"

"Yeah," I agree, examining her closely. "You don't mind the him using it, right?"

"No, it's okay!" Sunny says with a sweet smile. "It's for a new little sibling! I finally get to be a big sister, too!"

"You're going to be an amazing one since you're such a kind munchkin. I'm really proud of you," I tell her, patting her head, my chest overflowing with pride.

She beams, but soon her smile dims. "I miss mom."

I keep my face clear of the grimace trying to plant itself there because my little sister is really hitting where it hurts this morning. "Yeah, actually, I need to have a talk with Mama. She's not… doing what she should be."

"She's misbehaving?" Sunya asks innocently, and I laugh at the wording.

"Yeah, honey, she is," I tell her wryly. I glance at Isaac, noting the weirdness. "Go inside, I need to talk with Isaac. We'll be in in a minute and I need you to make sure those gluttons save us some food."

Sunya pops to her feet, dark hair bouncing as she salutes seriously. "Ma'am yes, ma'am! I will protect the yums!"

Isaac and I snicker as she runs off, nearly face planting at one point in that clumsy way all little kids have. Then I turn back to Isaac who blinks in confusion. "What?"

"Well?" I ask, head tilting. "How are you feeling about all this?"

He blinks. "Does… my opinion matter?"

I shoot him a filthy look, before I sigh, recognizing that of course he'd feel that way. "Isaac, who lives in this house?"

He fidgets before answering. "Isn't it the pack house?"

"Yeah, currently, but who actually lives here?"

"You and Sunya," he offers, bewildered.

I grasp both his hands and shift until our criss crossed knees are resting against one another, looking at him pointedly. "I gave permission for someone to live in my spare room."

He startles. "Me?"

I huff. "Yeah, dumass, you live here. You, Sunya and I. This is our home. Your comfort comes first to me since all the rest of these freeloaders can just go somewhere else, but for now, this is our one and only safe haven. There is no one whose opinion matters more."

Isaac gapes."Oh."

I laugh, squeezing his hands. "So?"

"I- I'm okay. Everyone's been great so far," he replies, and while I get the feeling that's not the whole truth, I decide that I can't push any further.

"Things should settle down now, and the pack house is on course to be built in just a few months or even less, so we should get our own space back soon. But, if it gets to be too much, we'll kick them all out or take a trip to the preserve for the day," I offer, pulling him into a hug that he easily melts into, Iggy tucked between us. "I mean it, Isaac. You're my responsibility and family since I took you in, just like Sunny. Everyone else can deal."

He grins, blue eyes sparkling. Ocean waves and sea foam like jewels in the sun, an enchanting paint splattered canvas. Hmm, better. "Got it. Love you, Layla."

My eyes go wide. That might be the first time he's said it to me, and considering his past, I can't imagine it was easy. The fact that he is so comfortable with me makes my eyes water for what seems like the millionth time today. "Love you, too, Izzy. Let's go eat before it's all gone."

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