The rules of the wolf pack

When Eli climbed over the fence of “HALE AUTO” he’d already known where this was going. Stealing the old Jeep was not as much an act of teenage rebellion, but rather a failproof way to get a rise out of his father. What he hadn’t expected was for his father to personally come pick him up with the cops and slash one of the tires with his own claws. Well, it seemed Eli had finally gotten his attention. “Are you gonna punish me or not?” Eli asked carelessly, once they made it home and his father began to read him the riot act right there in the kitchen. He was pretty pissed and could barely control himself. Even accidentally broke the clothes hook! Then took a deep breath as if he was mentally counting to ten. “Cause otherwise, I’ll just go to my room.” His father sighed heavily and clenched his fists in irritation. Eli wasn’t afraid. He knew his father would forgive him one way or another. Just like he did the first time, and the second, and the third… His patience was actually rather impressive. It was as if he enrolled himself on a special patience course and practiced his newfound skills on Eli. “Eli, I don’t- I don’t want to punish you.” His father threw his hands helplessly and stepped forward as if he was approaching a dangerous beast. Eli frowned. “I would like to understand what you think you’re doing.” “I needed a ride to meet my friends after the game. What’s wrong with that?” Except, Eli didn’t have any friends. And they both knew it. “You’re fifteen -” uh-oh, his father was getting annoyed again, “- you don’t have a license, and it’s called breaking the law!” “You never broke the law?” Eli smiled with triumph as he saw the signs of defeat on his father’s face. His father was not the best candidate to lecture about the law. He’d told Eli how he’d broken it time and time again. “OK. You know what?” Dad sighed, clearly desperate. “If this is about the other thing, then let’s talk about the other thing.” Eli knew what he was talking about, and he didn’t want to hear any more bullshit about how he could turn into a werewolf if he just tried hard enough. He couldn’t. He tried so many times, and it never worked! “I don’t want to talk to you about anything!” Eli snapped, barely restraining himself from running away and slamming the door, as he did whenever his dad began this werewolf counseling shtick. It wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation. “I wouldn’t push it if it wasn’t a thing. But we both know it’s not just anything, and now it’s definitely something!” “I don’t even know what you’re talking about. Are you listening to yourself? You sound drunk!” Eli didn’t mean to mouth off like this. It was always accidental, and he regretted saying it. Sometimes it was the guilty conscience, and sometimes it was the fact that such obvious provocations could lead to his father grabbing the belt for a different kind of conversation. It happened rarely, but when it did, Eli was ready to die of embarrassment. Thankfully, it wasn’t one of those times. His father chose the path of patience and conversation. “I can’t get drunk,” he said as if he spoke to a small child and Eli felt his ears burn with shame. “You know that.” “It’s not my problem.” Eli tried to hide his unease behind a demonstrative nonchalance. But that was dangerous, because it could also push his father to his limit… “Eli, it’s a thing!” Yup. His father was losing his temper. “OK, to you, not me!” “I can teach you.” Now they were definitely not going to end this conversation peacefully. As soon as the topic of transformations was brought up, the average quarrel would turn into a scandal. “What if I don’t want to learn?!” “Well you’re gonna have to learn. It’s who you are! You’re a Hale!” “I’ll change my name!” His father was speechless for a while. “That won’t change the fact that you’re a werewolf!” “And what if I’m not?!” His father froze, looking at him with such fear that Eli couldn’t yell anymore. “Maybe that’s why I can’t turn into one.” His eyes watered, and Eli struggled to keep his voice steady. “You know, what if I’m the first ever Hale not to turn into a werewolf?” By the end of the sentence, his voice was shaking. Eli paused to wipe the wetness off his cheeks. Thankfully, his father wasn’t looking at him anymore. “To be honest, it would probably make life a little easier,” he admitted. Eli pressed his lips together tightly to keep himself from crying. “Yeah, for me? Or you?” he asked with such venom in his voice that his father couldn’t find the words to answer. Eli didn’t wait for him to regain the ability to speak. He took his backpack and went to his room, slamming the door behind him.

***

Derek considered himself a progressive father. All those books and educational videos he’d studied and watched had helped him keep his son alive and well up until the age of fifteen. However, he still hadn’t been able to avoid the teenage rebellion of a young werewolf who still couldn’t turn into one. Still reeling from their fight, Derek went to his son’s room and knocked exactly four times on his door. “Eli, come on out.” There was no response. Not that he expected one. When his son took offense, it was always Derek who had to make the first step. “I was thinking we could practice before the game.” Derek twirled the lacrosse stick in his hands. A gift from Stiles. “You know, basketball was really always more my thing. But, uh, I think I’m getting better.” All Derek could do was catch a ball thrown in his direction. The rules of the game didn’t stay in his head for long. Eli usually played with Stiles, and Derek would sit on the porch and watch them with a smile. Oh, how he wished Stiles was home right now. He would solve this mess in no time — force them to sit down and talk about their grievances till they reached an understanding. And he would not take no for an answer. “Maybe you can show me some tricks?” Derek tried again. Eli didn’t answer. Listening closely, Derek suddenly realized he couldn’t hear any breathing or a heartbeat in the room. He opened the door and was met with an empty bed and an open window. No Eli. “Or maybe not,” he said into the void. The anger returned with renewed vigor. When he heard that Eli stole Stiles’s Jeep again, he felt like strangling him with his bare hands. They have been over this countless times! And each time Eli promised he won’t do it again, only to break this promise a few days later. He was clearly acting out. And his inability to turn into werewolf was probably not the only reason. Stealing the Jeep was a way to show just how much Eli actually missed Stiles. In their little family Stiles played the role of a good cop — both literally and metaphorically. Eli treated him like a friend rather than a second father, and Derek couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous about it. Especially now, when Stiles was not here and Derek seemed unable to get through to his son and find common ground. “Mr. Stilinski?” Calling the Sheriff seemed to be Derek’s only option. If Stiles wasn’t around, his dad could be just as helpful. “Yeah, it happened. I was wondering if you could help me look for the young car thief again.” “He ran away?” Sheriff Stilinski’s sigh was so understanding, it made Derek feel a lot better. “I’ll tell the boys. You know, I’m starting to think he’s my grandson after all.” Derek couldn’t help but smile. “I’m starting to suspect something like that, too,” he chuckled. It had been obvious from an early age that Eli took after Stiles rather than his own father. “Could you maybe scare him a little? He wouldn’t listen to me, perhaps he’d listen to the Sheriff.” “You want me to scare your son with the prison?” “You tried that with Stiles, didn’t you?” Sheriff Stilinski laughed. “It never worked with Stiles,” he explained, but still added, “I’ll talk to him if I see him. Stay at home. He is clearly avoiding you, so you won’t be much help right now.” Derek let out a sad chuckle. As much as he didn’t like it, the Sheriff was probably right, so he paid his goodbyes and ended the call. Deep in thought, his legs brought him back to his son’s room where he sat on the bed feeling both stupidly anxious and incredibly useless.

***

The Sheriff called an hour later with good news. Eli has been caught in the woods outside of town by one of the patrolling officers. And that ramped up Derek’s blood pressure even more than the fact that he’d run away. He expected Eli to be in school preparing for the lacrosse match, or aimlessly wandering in the shopping mall. Not alone in the dark forest notorious for all kinds of supernatural beings! Especially when he still didn’t know how to use his own powers! The 20 minutes before the Sheriff arrived with his son felt like hours. Derek couldn’t sit still. He paced back and forth in the kitchen, staring out the window, wondering what he was going to do next. Obviously, the recommendations in all those parenting books were not yielding any results. It was time to move on to the more simple yet effective methods used in wolf packs. The rule of the strongest. The police car stopped near the curb. Sheriff Stilinski got out first, then opened the door for Eli. Derek wanted to immediately charge toward them, but then changed his mind and stayed to watch from the window. The Sheriff caught Eli by the elbow and then began the promised lecture. “Eli, you probably think that maybe I’m here to give my good friend, your dad, just a little support as he deals with his somewhat delinquent son,” Mr. Stilinski said in a deliberately stern tone. Derek trusted that the Sheriff was trying his best to be menacing, but judging by the look on his son’s face, he was failing miserably. Eli was neither scared nor impressed in the slightest. “Maybe.” “But I’m not. I’m here to warn you.” Sheriff Stilinski pointed a finger at him. “You steal that Jeep again, I’m gonna haul your ass in a jail cell, have you tried as an adult, and watch you get sent to the state penitentiary for a minimum of three months.” Eli wasn’t scared at all. Too bad it killed his last chance for a diplomatic solution. “Did he tell you to scare me?” Eli glanced at the window catching Derek red-handed. Their eyes met, but Sheriff Stilinski immediately returned his attention to their conversation. “Maybe,” he said still attempting to appear stern. “Good luck with the game, Eli.” “Yeah…” The Sheriff did everything he could. Now it was Derek’s turn. His last resort. “Where have you been?!” Derek lashed out as soon as Eli stepped through the door. He could hear Sheriff get in the car and drive away, but kept his burning gaze fully fixed on his son. To make matters worse Eli didn’t seem the least bit contrite. He was angry. He bit his lip and didn’t even try to answer or look up at him. He kicked off his sneakers, dropped his backpack and headed to his room as if Derek was not even there! “Eli!” “What?!” Derek didn’t really expect this to go smoothly but was still unprepared for such a reaction. He slowly exhaled, locked the front door, and then pulled his belt out. Eli’s eyes widened in horror. It’s been a long time since Derek had to resort to such methods, but if Eli’s blanched face was anything to go by, he remembered its effects quite well. “Your behavior is terrible,” Derek said, crossing his arms over his chest. He hoped his voice didn’t sound as desperate as it felt. “Stealing cars, being rude, running away, refusing to listen or hear….” “I am listening.” Derek sighed. Eli was looking at him with a mixture of fear and resentment, but he clearly wasn’t going to give up. “I doubt it. Since other punishments don’t impress you enough, we’ll change methods,” Derek added and stepped forward. Eli backed away, but he wasn’t going to run anymore. Derek easily grabbed him by the shoulder and led him to his room. “Dad, I’m sorry.” “Oh, now we are talking.” The apology wasn’t sincere. Derek could hear it in his voice, see it in his face, and the only emotion he could smell on his son was irritation. No matter how hard Eli tried to get away with it, he was not going to succeed this time. It was his own fault. Eli made the last effort to break free as they approached the door to his room, but Derek only squeezed his shoulder harder in response. He guided him to his bed and gently pushed him down. Eli wasn’t fighting anymore and obediently flopped down on the crumpled blanket, hiding his face in his arms. Without further ado, Derek unbuttoned Eli’s pants and yanked them down, leaving his underwear up as he always did. There was no need for such humiliation. “If you hadn’t run away, this could have been avoided,” he said quietly before standing straight and grabbing his belt. “You would just have been grounded for the Jeep.” The only response he got was a subtle shake of the head. Derek sighed, wrapped the belt around his palm once more, aimed, and brought his hand down with a resounding thwap. He didn’t count the first slaps. They came weakly and erratically, to give Eli time to adjust. His son lay still, panting and clenching his fists angrily, which was only making this worse. When he was done with the introductory part, Derek unwrapped the belt from his hand, making it longer, and started putting some force behind his blows, catching the end of the belt with his other hand in between hits for extra impact and precision. Now Eli’s body jerked in pain with every swat. His back and shoulders were so tense that Derek had to stop and put his hand between his shoulder blades to keep him still. Eli buried his face in the blanket, doing his best to be stoic, but after another two hits he was back on his elbows, pounding his feet against the bed. Derek couldn’t help but hope that this pain would be the last missing piece to trigger Eli’s healing abilities. Isaac told him many times how pain helped him control his transformations. Perhaps Eli would pity himself enough to finally embrace his werewolf nature. The extra benefit to this spanking wouldn’t hurt. “Ouch…dad, I’m sorry…” This time the apology sounded sincere. “What for?” Derek went to the other side and continued with the punishment. The splotches of red were visible on the skin not covered by the underwear. Some of those will likely turn into bruises. “F-for… ouch! For running away… ah!” “Only that?” “That’s what you said.” Derek brought down the belt even harder. Eli shrieked and reached back with his hand to cover himself. Derek didn’t say anything and pointedly patted his palm with the belt loop. “For stealing the jeep,” Eli muttered, his voice thick with tears. Derek forced himself to ignore the gripping tightness in his chest. They were barely halfway through. “And for the way…the way I talked to you.” “Indeed.” Eli put his hand away, and Derek went on the punishment. His son was no longer holding back and was crying quite loudly. Derek tried not to hit the same spot twice, aiming for an even coverage. “I forgive you,” Derek said, finishing the punishment with a particularly hard swat. Eli cried out and tried to pull himself up by the hands, but immediately collapsed back down. For a moment, Derek watched him, nurturing hope. He might have been the one who doled out the discipline, but if Eli healed himself right now, Derek certainly wouldn’t scold him. But Eli wasn’t healing. He cried brokenheartedly, full of remorse and regret, the way he always did after a good dose of the belt. Derek put the dreadful implement away and sat down beside him, stroking his hair in attempt to comfort him. Eli immediately threw himself into his arms. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, resting his head on Derek’s shoulder. “I-it’s just that I-” “Shh, I know.” Derek hugged him tighter and stroked his hair soothingly. Eli calmed down pretty quickly, but he was in no hurry to break the embrace. “When is he coming back?” he asked after a while. Derek knew exactly who he was talking about. Stiles, of course. “In a month. He’s got a lot of work to do.” “Why can’t he work here?” Derek knew why. Leaving Beacon Hills was the only way for Stiles to put behind all the nightmares and the constant anxiety over everyone’s safety. In fact, at the time Derek had insisted that he goes and pursues his dream. The Sheriff might have been rather sad and lonely, but he didn’t stop him either. “Could we move in with him?” Eli asked without waiting for an answer. “I’m thinking about it,” Derek admitted. He’d been checking out the real estate prices and had already discussed it with Stiles. “But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Eli fell silent. Derek patted him on the back and pulled him away to look at him. Despite the typical puffy redness after a good cry, Eli’s expression was peaceful and not nearly as sullen as it had been the entire day. “Get some rest before the game,” Derek said, which magically transformed his timid son back to his irritable teenage self. “How?” he grumbled in an accusatory tone. Derek hummed and ruffled his tangled hair. “You knew you had a game tonight. You should have been on your best behavior and getting ready. Instead you decided to put on a show.” Eli hummed his resentment and climbed under the covers. Derek got up to let him pull the blanket all the way up to his neck. “I’m benched anyway,” Eli mumbled, turning away to look at the window. Derek stopped at the door. “I was just about to talk to your coach about that.” “What? No!” Eli nearly jumped in protest, and immediately hissed in pain. “Dad, don’t do this!” “Sorry, were you saying something?” Derek grabbed the doorknob, turned to his son, and made a silly face. “Dad!” “I can’t hear you!”