laniew1: (SHIELD - 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 24/?

They were friends with the wolves when he was a kid, he can vividly remember running through the woods with Peter and his siblings, the wolves tumbling in and out of their wolf forms at will.

As a child it had been exhilarating, fun and it was only after Kate was born that Gerard put a stop to that.

Put a stop to a lot of things that had been their norm; there had been a treaty in place since way before Chris was born, signed in blood by the Argent Hunters and Hale Wolves and while Gerard hadn’t done anything to outright break the treaty (not then anyway, that would come later) he certainly hadn’t done anything to foster goodwill with the wolves.

Running in the forest with Peter and his brothers and sisters stopped, training began full force and the only time he got to see the members of the Hale pack that were his age was in school.

It has taken years to rebuild even the smallest measure of the trust that had existed once between them. They’d been friends once and after things settled pretty much the only thing that Chris could hope for was that they could renegotiate a new treaty.

Instead Derek, who obviously didn’t like doing things in a small way, drew them into the pack. Though Chris would probably have to admit that he didn’t necessarily fight it.

Allison was going to be with Scott, eventually anyway. And there’s only Allison and him, along with Hunters that don’t even bear the Argent name that he considers his.

He doesn’t wonder where they are, if they were smart they scattered like Allison did. If they weren’t they aligned themselves with Harrison and his Hunters.

He’s been shot before; you can’t be a Hunter and not get injured in some way. When they were training; before they were married or dating, while Chris was still burying feelings and thoughts that would have Gerard gutting him, Victoria had shot him by accident.

(She said it was an accident, their trainers called it friendly fire, he thinks she was tired of being ignored and shot him to get his attention.)

There’s hands on his chest, they hurt the way they’re pushing and pushing and he breathes shallowly, tries to raise his arms to make them stop, to curl into himself, and finds he can’t.

There’s a voice, low and fierce and it sounds familiar though he’s pretty sure he’s never heard it sound like this before.

“Chris, Chris, Chris, Chris,” repeated over and over again and the effort to open his eyes is almost more than he can manage, he barely sees Peter before they try to roll back in his head.

“No, no,” Peter says, “stay awake,” he says, he takes one hand off his chest and pulls on the chains, they don’t break, they were designed to hold werewolves after all.

“Tired,” Chris mutters, he sounds like a petulant Allison at three, determined to not go to bed but exhausted nonetheless.

Peter gives up tugging on the chains and touches his face, the tips of fingers drag down the curve of his jaw and they’re wet.

“Are you getting blood on me?” Chris asks, he closed his eyes and then promptly opens them again when Peter growls low in his chest.

“It’s your blood,” Peter says, like that makes it any better.

“I guess I should be thankful you’re not licking it off me,” Chris murmurs, he lets his head fall back against the wall.

“I only appreciate some good blood play when there’s sex involved, you know that,” Peter says in that tone of voice that always implies more is going on then is actually going on. “And you don’t look like you’re up for anything more energetic than going to the hospital and having that wound closed up and possibly a transfusion.”

“Stiles,” Chris says. “Harrison took Stiles… somewhere.”

“We’re on it,” Peter says. “Or more like SHIELD is on it and the rest of us are just going along for the ride, I wonder if we get consultant fees for helping out or if we’ll have to invoice them?”


Agent Coulson has an aerial map that he got from somewhere laid out over a table in one of Deaton’s exam rooms.

“So Erica found the pyre here,” he points at a red circle in the middle of a large empty space. “It’s almost completely surrounded by trees which will make it easy to get people near, but also gives them an area in which to hide their own people.”

Derek crosses his arms over his chest, he doesn’t like this waiting, it makes his skin crawl to think of Harrison alone with Stiles. At least when Chris had been there…

Scott comes banging in a side door, all sad eyes and down turned mouth. Derek narrows his eyes at him. He’s supposed to be at the hospital.

“Allison wouldn’t let me stay,” he mutters defensively. “Peter said he’d stay and keep an eye on things, mom said she’d call if anything happened.”

“He’s okay?” Agent Coulson asks, he doesn’t look up from the map that and he has a black marker in his hand that he seems to be using to mark it up.

“He’s in surgery, they said the bullet went right through, but he bled a lot and…” Scott rubs at his face with his hands. He looks impossibly young and scared, it was one of the reasons why Derek wanted him at the hospital with Allison, at least that way he wouldn’t be there if they found Stiles being burned on the pyre.

“That’s good,” Agent Coulson says. “I’ve already put in a call so if they need better surgeons they’ll be made available.”

“Thanks,” Scott says.

“What are they x’s for?” Derek asks, that’s what Agent Coulson’s been doing with the marker, making little black x’s on the map.

“They’re us,” Agent Coulson says. “Do we know where the witches are?”

Deaton shakes his head. “I haven’t heard from them since they made the courtesy call telling me they were here.”

“So we don’t know what their purpose is here,” Agent Coulson says, he switches out colors and starts making red x’s next to the black one’s. There’s not as many of them and when he counts them up he realizes that it has to be his pack.

“No,” Deaton says.

“Well it’ll be hard to figure them into our plans if we don’t know what their objective is.”

“Their objective is to solidify the coven,” Deaton says, Agent Coulson looks up at him, he’s switched out the red marker with a blue one and he stands there with the marker uncapped in his hand and his eyes narrowing at Deaton.

“And we know this how?”

“Because what other reason would they have to be here?”


Crawford gets Isaac and two SHIELD agents as his little assigned group. He’s got a bulletproof vest on over his sweatshirt and is wishing that he’d put insoles into the boots that Hill had tossed at him. He has a gun but it’s holstered and he hopes against hope that he doesn’t need to use it.

Isaac leads the way, Crawford following and the two SHIELD agents behind them, they have their rifles out and their visors down and when he periodically glances back they seem to fade in and out of the tree lines.

Crawford picks his way over fallen trees and tries to not make any noise to draw attention to them; he’s so focused on the ground that he misses Isaac stopping and runs right into him.

“What?” he breathes out and Isaac lifts up a hand and gestures to the right. It takes a moment for Crawford to see her; she’s dressed much like he is, save for the bulletproof vest and gun. Jeans and a sweatshirt, hiking boots. She inclines her head at him and smiles softly then sort of wanders off to the left.

“The witches are here,” he says into his comm.

“You’re sure?” he hears Agent Coulson ask.

“I just saw Andrea; I’m assuming the rest are probably somewhere else in the woods.”

“Copy,” Agent Coulson says, Crawford wonders how drastically this’ll rearrange their plans or if Agent Coulson had always had the witches planned in.


The road to hell is paved in good intentions.

If he’d known that cleansing the dagger would have him on a bumpy, roller coaster road to hell without a seat belt to restrain him and having Chris Argent shot right in front of him… well he thinks he would have left the damn thing screaming in Helsinki.

He wouldn’t have, he’s not built that way. His father called him his little-fixer before he hit his teen-age years then he became his little-troublemaker.

“Do you really need one that big?” Stiles mutters when he sees the top of the pyre, they’re driving towards it at an angle, but it still looks fucking huge. There’s a brief moment of fear that they might have managed to track the remaining members of the makeshift coven he’d put together for the cleansing.

Then he shakes his head, he thinks he would know.

It’s just him and his father and some Hunters trying to make a point.

“We’re taking some pictures for the newsletter,” Harrison says from the front seat, he doesn’t turn so Stiles can’t tell if he’s kidding or not. He doesn’t think he is, Harrison is the kind of whack-job that would probably have a monthly newsletter complete with pictures and stories of his activities. It should make it easier for SHIELD to find him after it’s all said and done.

“That’s awesome, make sure you get my good side,” Stiles says. Harrison turns to glare at him and Stiles smiles brightly, inside he’s kind of freaking out a whole fucking lot, but he’s not going to let this asshole know that.

They should have found Chris by now, he swallows down the lump. Shot at close range, there’s really no way… but Allison will lose what remains of her mind if he’s actually dead so Stiles is going to hope that there was at least one wolf lurking in the vicinity that was maybe able to get help.

Derek should have had his wolves looking for anything out of the ordinary and the huge pile of wood complete with towering cross in the center is kind of not an ordinary fixture in Beacon Hills.

It’s much bigger up close, Stiles decides when they actually pull into the clearing. He wishes that he could say it was a surprise to be pulled out of the back of the SUV and tossed onto the ground next to his dad.

But it isn’t.

He’s seen this.


“I’ve got eyes on Agent Stilinski,” Crawford hears over his headset, ahead of him Isaac stops and turns, eyes wide.

“His father is here too,” Crawford closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly and makes a motion to Isaac that they should continue. The SHIELD agents are flanking them on the left and right doing that thing where they disappear and reappear at random intervals.

They start moving again and they’re relatively silent, Crawford walking in Isaac’s footsteps so as to not disturb or make any noises that would alert the Hunters as to their presence.

The sound of branch breaking is loud enough that it startles him into stopping, his grip tightens around the gun in his hand, Isaac turns his head slightly to the right and sniffs.

“Go,” he whispers and Isaac is gone. He’s human, Isaac is not. The end of that word problem is pretty easy to figure out.


“They’ve got Crawford,” comes over the radios and Derek stills, Isaac had been with Crawford, along with two SHIELD agents. No other information is forthcoming and he starts moving.

He has Agent Coulson directly behind him and its small work to put more and more distance between them.

He thinks Coulson lets him, he’s not sure why, he’s fairly sure he doesn’t want to know why.


“You okay?” his dad asks and Stiles bites his lips and keeps his head turned slightly away so his father can’t see the bruises.

“They shot Chris,” Stiles says. His dad looks over at him, Stiles bites his lip and tries to not see Chris slumped against the wall, bleeding as Harrison’s goons dragged him screaming away. Probably wasn’t his best moment.

“We’re going to be okay,” his dad says quietly, Stiles huffs a laugh that he’s sure sounds as disbelieving as he feels.

And then he feels it. The energy of…

He coughs to mask the grin.

“So,” Harrison says as he comes to stand right in front of them. He’s got a maniacal sort of look in his eyes.

“You had your chance to spew out your evil little monologue and you chose to shoot Chris instead; so how ‘bout we just bypass it and move on to other things, hmm?”

“You should have raised your son to show some respect for his elders,” Harrison growls.

“I raised my son to speak to his mind, and respect those elders that they deserve it,” he glances over at Stiles and Stiles knows what he’s seeing, bruises on his face from Harrison’s goons. It’s still early so he probably can’t see the bruises on his jaw.

“From the bruises on him, I’m fairly sure that you don’t deserve it.”

Stiles hears raised voices and Harrison walks away from them, crossing to the backside of the pyre.


“It’s fine, it’s going to be fine,” his dad says and Stiles closes his eyes and concentrates on the energy of the coven. There’s seven distinct points he can feel and he slides in and around it, he flexes his arms and can feel the bonds on his wrist give just a little. He stills, leaves them be because it would be epic kinds of bad if Harrison decided to redo them.

He jerks a bit when he feels his father slide into the energy that the coven is putting off, its strong, circling around the clearing and he can’t see any of them but he can feel the different touches of each like a hug reassuring him.

Let me go!” he hears snarled and he stiffens, head jerking to the left. Crawford is being dragged between two of Harrison’s Hunters, dragging his feet and struggling.

He gets dumped unceremoniously on the ground in front of them and Harrison kicks a booted foot out at him sending him sprawling into Stiles and his dad. He has to fight with everything he has to not break his bonds and help him.

They straighten, Crawford getting his feet under him, Stiles and his dad going back to their knees, close to the ground. They could sit on the ground, he’d be able to get his hands into the soil if he did but it would also look suspicious and Stiles doesn’t want to draw any unnecessary attention to his hands at the moment.

“He’s human, he’s not involved in this,” his dad is saying and Crawford is nodding, hands out in front of him. Eyes flying everywhere looking for a way out.

At least Stiles thinks that’s what he’s doing but then he realizes that he’s inching ever closer to being directly in front of Stiles and his dad. Like he means to protect him with his body.

“He’s human,” Harrison agrees. “But he is involved in this,” one of his Hunters hands of a gun, small caliber handgun, probably the type that stay at home moms in the 80’s used to keep for protection.

The shot isn’t as loud this time, doesn’t echo like it did in the basement. He can hear the birds screeching as they take flight and Derek’s howl as he leaps through the pyre behind them.

Crawford still goes down. But Derek is there just milliseconds later hovering right over his body.

Stiles can count the number of times that he’s seen Derek in full out wolf mode (once, when the pack had come back from fighting the mountain troll and Derek had figured out how to access it but hadn’t figured out how to change back). He doesn’t remember him being this big, and snarling.

He looks like a feral animal, hovering over Crawford’s motionless body, all snarling noises and snapping jaws when anyone tries to come near him.

This is his vision, he’d only ever seen Derek and his dad and himself, and that was mostly just the tops of their bodies. He’d never seen who they were facing and he’d never realized that Derek was hovering over anybody.

“You should call your wolf off,” Harrison says, his narrowed eyes say he’s pissed, but the tremor in his voice lends credence to the fact that some Hunters only hunt specific things and Harrison and his hunters have not ever been confronted by a real, actual werewolf.

“I would,” Stiles say. Derek growls low in his throat. “But he’s my Alpha, and he doesn’t answer to anyone but himself and Chris Argent who he held a treaty with, so…” Stiles smiles a bit, just a little and he gets his feet under him. His father stands beside him and he pulls on his bonds, letting them fall to the ground.

Harrison makes a noise of inarticulate rage; it warms him a little inside.

He takes two steps forward and rests one hand on Derek’s head, letting his fingers scritch in the spot right behind his left ear that Derek trapped in wolf form had loved it. On the other side of Derek his dad lets his hand fall onto Derek’s neck.

“I would suggest dropping your weapons,” Agent Coulson says, there are twelve dressed in black SHIELD agents coming into the clearing with weapons drawn, the rest of the pack minus Peter and Allison right alongside them. “Or we can let the wolves run wild, your choice really.”

“This isn’t over,” Harrison says. “There will be others.”

Stiles smiles, it probably looks a little sad, he doesn’t care.

“There always is.”



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September 2016


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