laniew1: (Avengers)
[personal profile] laniew1
Summary: Stiles goes to college and accidentally gets hired by SHIELD.

TITLE: Stiles Stilinski: Agent of SHIELD
RATING: PG-13 (for now)
PAIRING: Gen – but Stiles/Clint (eventually)
AUTHOR: Melanie
Summary: Stiles goes to college and accidentally gets hired by SHIELD.
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing Marvel, MTV, etc own everything but the idea to mesh them..

Stiles Stilinski, Agent of Shield 22/?

Crawford makes the call at 14:45; he’s sitting at the table still sifting through books that apparently don’t actually tell them anything they need to know.

He wonders if Stiles knew that the books didn’t contain any actual information they could use and decides he must have. Stiles has been doing this a lot longer than Crawford has, living a life surrounded by the supernatural even if he’s only just realized that he’s directly part of it.

He can hear the Sheriff moving around upstairs. It’s the Sheriff moving around then the rapid fire knocking at the front door that has Crawford realizing exactly how long it’s been since Stiles left to go to the Argents.

He’s on his feet moving to the front door; he can hear the Sheriff moving quickly down the stairs. He whips the door open and its Allison Argent standing there, she looks red faced, is definitely out of breath.

“Allison?” he hears the Sheriff say from behind him.

“Hunters at the house,” she says, more breath than voice. He wonders if she ran the entire way.

“Stiles went to your house,” Crawford says, there’s a thin thread of alarm in his voice, he can hear it. Hawkeye is going to murder him. “He wanted to talk to your dad.”

Allison closes her eyes and when she looks like she’s going to go down he grabs her arm and drags her inside the house, handing her off to the Sheriff even while he’s digging for his phone and doing a cursory check outside for anyone watching the house.

Agent Coulson’s number had been programmed in as he’d been leaving, ‘because Stiles doesn’t call when he needs things, and I have feeling he’s going to need things’.

It’s picked up on the first ring and Crawford wonders if they’d been expecting this call, if SHIELD had already routed agents to them to help in whatever the hell is going on.

“Crawford?” Agent Coulson’s voice is soothing in the way that he sounds like he’s completely ready to fuck some shit up.

It’s all in the inflection of his voice.

“Sir, I think we might have a problem.”


Allison calls Scott, who will call everyone else, her mind is reeling. She is scared for her father who she’d left at the house, and terrified for Stiles who apparently had gone there and no one had heard from either one of them.

Her house phone keeps ringing and ringing, the answering machine not even picking up which means that the phones have probably been pulled from the walls.

Stiles’ phone goes directly to voice mail, whether turned off by his hand or someone else they can’t tell.

“They’re witch Hunters,” she says, she sips at the tea the Sheriff had made then handed to her with shaking hands. Crawford still has his phone pressed to his ear talking to SHIELD.

She can see a table piled high with books and papers and she rubs a hand over her forehead.

“Allison,” she hears shouted and then a door banging against a wall and the Sheriff sighs a sigh of long-suffering ‘Scott, you’re patching the wall again since you can’t open doors like a normal werewolf’.

“I’m okay,” she says, Scott’s hands are running over her face, her shoulders, her hair. He sniffs her neck and she doesn’t deck him as she normally does when he gets like this.

“I’m okay,” she says again and she pushes him away. “There’s witch Hunters at my house.”

“We know,” Derek says, he’s followed Scott into the house at a more sedate pace, his betas are following at his heels and they all look mightily pissed off. “Peter saw them take Stiles and your father into the house.”

“And you didn’t do anything?!” the Sheriff snarls at Peter, Peter raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms over his chest.

“They had guns and though I’m sure they hunt only witches, I’m also sure that they pack something in their guns that will damage any other element they might come across.”

“SHIELD’s coming,” Crawford says, he’s clenching his phone in his hand. “Agent Coulson said they’re working on remote activating Stiles’ comm. unit.”

“They can do that?” Danny sounds intrigued.

“It’s a SHIELD comm. designed by Tony Stark, they’ve requested Jarvis work on activating it since Mr. Stark is still on Asgard with the Avengers,” Crawford says it so matter-of-factly, like it’s nothing to be name dropping SHIELD and Tony Stark and the Avengers and Asgard.

Allison rubs at her eyes, and prays that her dad and Stiles are okay. That they remain okay.

Because she has a feeling that if the Avengers return and Stiles isn’t okay, that they’ll level this town that is her home.

If SHIELD hasn’t already done so.


They take his phone but leave his comm. in, they obviously think it’s a Bluetooth and he’s not going to be the one to dissuade them of that notion. They probably think it’s funny to leave it in when they take his cell, knowing that he can’t use it to call for help.

It would be a stupid move on their part, except the Helicarrier is completely out of range and even if he had both hands and a user manual he probably couldn’t figure out how to make the signal bounce far enough that a SHIELD satellite would pick it up.

They chain him to a wall and punch him a couple of times, but that’s all par for the course and kind of expected when you get taken by the bad guys.

They leave him there, alone and he sags against the wall and breathes. He doesn’t think because things are going to happen how things are to happen when they’re going to happen.

He’s not sure how long he’s been chain to a wall breathing when they bring Chris down. He’s bloody and battered, he’s got one arm wrapped around his chest and he looks like complete hell. They chain him to the wall opposite him and pat him on the head condescendingly.

“So we need to go get things ready for a witch pyre,” Harrison says, he has his hands shoved into his pockets. “Don’t you boys go anywhere,” he laughs like he made a joke and Stiles closes his eyes and goes back to breathing.

There are footsteps on the stairs and then the sound of a door closing, a lock being secured.

“Are you okay?” Chris asks.

“Me? Well I’m just peachy, because you know it’s not a trip home to Beacon Hills if I don’t get to fight a big bad,” Chris snorts and Stiles takes a brief break from his breathing to grin.

“Allison went to get help as soon as we realized that they were coming.”

“You think she actually got away?”

“Well they haven’t dragged her back kicking and screaming yet, so, yeah. I think she got away.”

Stiles leans his head back against the wall. Stares at the ceiling.

“It’s going to be okay,” Chris says, like he thinks the Stiles needs the reassurance. This time it’s Stiles that snorts a laugh. Because he knows better, he knows how this ends.

“We’re all going to die,” he says. It’s the first time he’s said the words out loud.

“Wow, okay, so you’re looking at this from a glass half-empty perspective, which is interesting because I kind of thought you were a glass half-full kind of kid but whatever.”

“I’m looking at this from a, I’ve already seen this happen, I know how it ends perspective.”

Chris looks at him, eyes narrowed.

“Did you,” he looks around the room, peers up the stairs like he can tell if someone is loitering there directly out of their line of sight waiting for them to say something to incriminate themselves. “Did you have a vision?”

Stiles rolls his neck on his shoulders, he’s got a cramp and he’s pretty sure if he yells out a complaint or something they’ll just come down and laugh and point.

“I told you that I found a dagger in a museum in Helsinki.”

“The dagger that started this entire mess, yes I remember the conversation.”

“The dagger wasn’t why we were there,” he rotates his shoulders. “We were looking for an Asgardian artifact.”

“Should you be telling me this?”

“Probably not,” Stiles laughs a little, harshly, bitterly. “But it’s not on earth anymore so it’s not like anyone else can get their hands on it.”

“You saw something, whatever this thing was, you saw something.”

“I saw…” he takes a deep breath, releases it. “I saw my dad and I on the ground, on our knees bleeding, Derek in front of us, trying to protect us,” he says it quietly.

“What about the rest of us?”

“Dead, unconscious, I don’t know, the only people that I saw clearly were myself, my dad and Derek,” he leans his head back, stares at the ceiling some more. “I brought Crawford here because… because I didn’t see him and I thought, if he’s here then whatever’s going on now isn’t connected to that vision… but Crawford is here and this certainly feels like a build up to my dad and I being on our knees and…”

“And what? Did you see your deaths; did you see anyone moving forward to strike that killing blow?”

“It’s a vision, I know how visions work. Fixed moment’s blah, blah, blah. I didn’t need to see the blood or guts to know how the story ends; the lead up pretty much told the whole story.”

“But it didn’t, because you don’t really know how the story ends, you got the climactic moment before the end, but you didn’t get to the end. You didn’t see the Avengers or SHIELD swoop in with Crawford leading the way, you didn’t see the pack surging up to put themselves between you and whatever danger you were facing. You didn’t see the end, so how about we not kill us all off just yet, okay?”

Stiles looks at him, just looks and allows himself to feel just a little bit of hope. Crawford is at home with his dad, Crawford with his cell phone and probably a direct line to Agent Coulson. And Allison who probably ran the whole way to either his dad or the pack; someone who could help regardless.

His dad will still end up on his knees beside him, Derek will still end up standing between them and Harrison and whatever weapons Harrison wields, but maybe, maybe they won’t die at the end of it all.


Isaac likes Stiles’ dad. He always has. The pack always has.

Except for Derek, but Isaac thinks that Derek’s issues with the Sheriff stem more from other things that are probably left unspoken considering Stiles has a boyfriend that could probably kill them all and Derek is, well Derek.

The Sheriff is a good man, honest and true. The fact that he’s not entirely human is almost icing on the cake. Because it ties him to them in a way that just being Stiles’ dad couldn’t.

So when the Sheriff says, “I need to go to the station,” in a voice that says he’s going and he’s walking out the door in fifteen seconds with or without a member of the pack with him, Isaac offers to go with him.

“Take your phone,” Derek says and Isaac holds it up so that Derek can see it, he’s not Scott so Derek doesn’t ask him to verify that it’s charged. Derek nods once, which indicates that they can go and the Sheriff rolls his eyes as the remaining members of the pack turn their attention back to Crawford.

Crawford has his phone pressed to his ear and his back to them like it’ll give him any measure of privacy in a room full of werewolves.

They don’t say anything but they’re all aware that the Agent Coulson is on the other end; SHIELD hasn’t been able to make contact with the Avengers on Asgard, but they have SHIELD teams on the way and eventually Crawford will have to leave to go meet.

Isaac pulls the door closed behind him, waiting for a moment until he hears the lock click into place.

“What do you need from the station?” Isaac asks, the Sheriff narrows his eyes at him then climbs into the car.

“Some papers, our family’s book,” the Sheriff says it all nonchalantly, like the fact that he and Stiles being outed as witches means next to nothing.

“Why don’t you keep that stuff at the house?” Isaac asks, he looks out the window at the trees going boy, kid on a bike, no soldiers in the streets or Hunters with guns.

Not yet anyway.

“You’ve met my son, right? I keep that stuff in the house Stiles would have had it sniffed out in 30 minutes or less, he’s like a bloodhound, when there’s something you don’t want found he’ll have its location pinpointed within seven inches. Christmas was always an exercise in futility.”

“Stiles was never one of those kids that believed in Santa, was he?”

“Not since he was seven,” the Sheriff laughs a little, “he faked it really well, especially when Scott came along.”

The Sheriff pulls his car into his designated spot, climbs out with keys in hand. The station is empty, which strikes Isaac as odd but the Sheriff doesn’t seem concerned so he doesn’t dwell on it.

“Give me a few minutes, okay?” the Sheriff asks, Isaac shrugs and goes to look at some of the mug shots on the wall.

He hears the Sheriff close the door to his office and he kind of mills around, hands shoved into his pockets. He glances at the clock on the wall and then back at the Sheriff’s closed door, another couple of minutes unless he comes out before then. He can’t think what the Sheriff could be doing in there except maybe having a breakdown and they don’t really have time for anyone to have a breakdown.

Not until Stiles is safe, then they can double up on the panic attacks and nightmares.

He stares at the Sheriff’s door and he hears nothing, no movement, nothing from the other side. He walks slowly to it even as he takes his cell out of his pocket.

“Sheriff, sir, we should really be getting back to the house,” he taps on the door, lightly so as to not draw unnecessary attention, but loudly enough that the Sheriff should be able to hear him.

“Sheriff?” his hand goes to the door knob and it doesn’t turn, locked as it must be from the inside. He glances around, still empty and twists the knob and pushes the door in.

Derek’s handy with a hammer, he’ll fix it later.

“Oh fuck,” he says when he sees the empty office. He’s already got the phone to his ear and is calling Derek as he rounds the desk and peers out the window.

No sign of anything, the Sheriff has about ten minute’s head start and he’s such an idiot. He’s getting in trouble for this, he’s sure.

“What’s wrong?” Derek answers the phone, no niceties or greetings, just straight to the point.

“The Sheriff is gone,” Isaac says, Derek growls on the other end and Isaac’s shoulders hunch up around his ear, a reflexive movement since his Alpha is pissed at him.

The Sheriff’s phone is sitting in the middle of his desk, post-it note with ‘Sorry’ scrawled in black sharpie across it.

“Don’t bother having Danny try and track his cell he left it on his desk,” Isaac says, which is odd enough but the fact that it’s sitting there, and not with the Sheriff, means that he wants them to have it.

He picks it up and thumbs it awake, there’s an open text that says simply ‘come alone’, there’s the little clip that indicates that a picture was sent along with the message, when he opens it there’s a picture of Stiles, bleeding and scowling at the person taking the picture.

“He got a text of a picture of Stiles that says come alone.”

Derek growls again. “Get back to the house, SHIELD’s on its way and we need to figure out how to get them into town with the Hunters knowing they’re coming into town.”



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September 2016


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