Chapter Text
“Hey, dad, I’m about to go in. I’m nervous.... God, I wish you would have answered your phone. I’m going to be terrible at this job, or be eaten alive. Thank you for helping me get it though. I love you.... Don’t eat the french fries.”
Stiles added that last part more as more of a punishment for being too busy to answer his phone than actual concern about his dad eating fries. His dad’s cholesterol was under 140, finally. He was taking great care of himself now that he was dating Melissa. That burned a little after years of babysitting his dad's diet, but Stiles was just a kid, he only had a couple ways of laying the hurt on to get his dad to do what he wanted. Melissa definitely had a lot more options in that department.
“Okay, go in, say hello to your co-workers. Be congenial,” Stiles said to himself.
A high cyclone fence enclosed the entire sanctuary. The wide access road between the inner and outer fence kept people who came to visit from being able to see the wolves very well from the road or the parking lot, but Stiles spotted one sitting on a rock near the inner fence. It was facing him with it’s head cocked to the side, like dogs did when they were trying to figure you out.
“Wave to the wolves!” Stiles said to himself. He waved frantically, smiling wide and fake, then rolled his eyes at his own overblown dramatics. Training as a tour guide was the only potentially devastating part of the job as far as he was concerned, but it would be a while before he had to do it on his own. “Wolves don’t like waving, because of reasons,” he said in his best radio worthy, tour guide voice. He laughed at his own joke, attempting to make light of his anxiety.
It was ironic that he was going to work in a place where they gave tours of animals in cages, considering how vehemently he had protested school field trips to the San Diego Zoo, but this place was different. The wolves had acres of space all to themselves. They roamed free and didn’t have interaction with people unless they wanted to. They chose to because they liked the humans that cared for them. Most of the wolves were displaced pets or injured animals that couldn’t go back out in the wild. They had to be cared for somewhat, but they were also encouraged to be as wolf-like as possible.
Such an awesome, chill job would not come along again in his lifetime, Stiles was sure of it. He could not fuck this up. The most complicated, terrifying part would be helping out with feeding time, but the rest was probably going to be cake. It was interesting, and it would be a fucking blast, especially if his co-workers were half as awesome as Chris always said they were. Chris was a dirty, no good exaggerator who liked to sell people great big fish stories, but he wouldn’t give a place he worked praise when it didn’t deserve it. He was too proud of the wolf sanctuary to do something like that.
Tall fences were depressing, like prison fence. This one even more so because it caged in the beautiful black wolf across the access road. It watched him as he wrapped his fingers through the thick wire diamonds and leaned into the fence. “Hey bro, you’re the big guy huh? I heard about you,” Stiles said to the large wolf. It dipped it’s head and watched Stiles through the wire, like it was checking him out. “They said you were kind of a pain in the ass.” Stiles sighed, wondering if the wolf could sense things like Chris said they could. Stiles was feeling the need to commiserate acutely. “So am I,” he admitted.
“Lost my last gig because I wasn’t paying close enough attention to the fucking register and some asshole kid stole the till. Job before that I lost because the manager read some of my poetry online and said I bitched about work so much I needed another job. One that suited my interests better. She was kind of a bitch. I don't think she liked that I said so in the poem she read actually,” he sighed and shook his head at his own stupidity. “Jesus, I’m already talking to the wolves.” Stiles rested his forehead against the fence as he talked. “Try not to be a pain in the ass for me and I’ll sneak you treats, okay? I need to keep this job or I’ll have to ditch the rest of my gap year and go to college, and I am not ready for that yet.”
The wolf stared at him, unmoving. It didn’t even blink or shuffle impatiently as he talked to it. The silence and stillness was unnerving, like the wolf was deciding if he was people or prey.
“Yup, good talk bro, thanks,” Stiles turned and waved to the black wolf, unwilling to psyche himself out in the first five minutes. He couldn’t afford to be afraid of the wolves. Stiles almost jumped out of his skin when the wolf suddenly jumped off the rock and landed silently on the ground, pacing him as he headed up to the office. He stopped right before he lost sight of it and peered through the fence again. “See you in a few,” he said, glancing back as he walked away. The wolf was a silent, dark silhouette, but maybe it was listening to the tone of his voice and knew Stiles was friendly now. Hopefully that counted for something.
The office was pure insanity, which Stiles could work with and respect. Wolf art from school kids all around the world was taped to the walls. Some of it looked like it was made by adults, or really talented kids. There were a few framed pieces from famous people, copies of the originals the Hale foundation auctioned off to pay for the protection of wolves in California. Stiles knew that much from tales Chris told of how much money they made. Desks were covered in paperwork and framed photos. Laptops served as digital photo frames, slideshow screensavers telling the stories of each employee, and the wolves. Everything revolved around the wolves.
Seeing it from a new perspective, not as a school kid visiting, but as an employee who would be making this his new home away from home, It was beautiful. It was easily the best place he had ever worked, and he wasn’t working the shitty graveyard shift that was terrifying and lonely like Chris offered him before. It was training to do the real jobs, all of them. Chris was willing to let him try because Stiles said the right things and acted like an adult about working for him, finally.
“Stiles! I was afraid you’d given up on us,” Chris laughed, getting up from his desk to usher Stiles in the door the rest of the way.
“Sorry I’m late, the big guy was stalking me out by the fence. I had to say hi,” Stiles explained, leaving out the part where he had an entire, one sided conversation with the wolf.
“Sage, really?” Chris looked surprised. A tall, formidable woman named Erica jumped up from her desk and went to the window. “Is he okay?” Chris asked, joining Erica to look for Sage.
Stiles forgot the wolf’s name was Sage even though he had heard Chris talk about him a dozen times at least.
“He looks fine, and I feel fine,” Erica said as she held her hand up like she was waving to Sage.
The exchange seemed more than a little odd, but Stiles kept his mouth shut.
“Why don't you skip feeding today, just in case. Stiles and I will be fine.” Chris gave Erica’s shoulder a friendly squeeze. She nodded and looked back out the window. Chris peered at Sage one more time then turned back to Stiles. “C’mon, I’ll show you the top secret stuff you didn't get to see during your interview.” Chris gestured and Stiles followed.
They went through the file room into the small vet center and the holding kennels for sick animals, then outside to the big garage. They stopping in front of a long table and a short row of refrigerators and freezers where the food was kept. Stiles had seen the garage just once when his dad had brought in a donation of new oil pans the wolves used as food dishes. The deputies had fulfilled the sanctuaries wishlist for Christmas that year and that was his dad’s donation to the cause. Being the Sheriff, and Chris’s best friend, he was allowed to go back and drop them off because Chris was busy making food at the time. Stiles didn’t remember it well because it was years ago.
“Now for the fun stuff, do you know how to sharpen knives?” Chris asked.
“No,” Stiles admitted, but he smiled at Chris’s enthusiasm. Chris was an avid hunter, he was excited about weird stuff like that. “Here, I’ll show you. It’s monotonous work and it’ll give me a minute to explain what you saw in there just in case it becomes an issue soon.” Chris pulled down a hanging rack of tools and knives that looked positively medieval. “Erica has epilepsy, do you know what that is?” Chris asked.
“Yeah, that means she had seizures right?” Stiles asked, not knowing much more about it that that. He was glad now he kept his mouth shut before. It wasn’t like him to censor himself, but maybe it was time for new habits.
“Yes, they’re rare for Erica, but serious. She has a device implanted under the skin on her chest, right about here,” Chris tapped his chest a few inches under his clavicle. “It’s an electrical nerve stimulator that keeps her seizures on check pretty well. We have a hand out we give new people, but basically if she has a seizure and falls, hits her head or chest, you might have to call 911. She feels them coming on though, so that’s never been an issue.”
“Alright,” Stiles nodded. Chris was preparing him so he wouldn’t be surprised if it happened. “It doesn't happen often though?” Stiles asked, watching Chris’s hands closely as he sharpened a knife on a whetstone. Stiles learned by watching, Chris remembered that.
“No, and every time it has happened Sage finds her and makes a bunch of noise. The first time he did it he scared the shit out of all of us, then Erica was on the floor. He actually distracted her so much she missed the warning. She says it’s a metal taste in her mouth just a few seconds before it happens.” Chris held up the knife to show Stiles, then flipped it and worked on the other side. “She has this magnet she uses to activate the implant. It lessens the after effects of the seizure. It’s best if she can use it before a seizure happens, but in case she doesn’t get to it, you just run it over the spot a couple times. It’s neon pink, about business card sized and in her left pants pocket usually.”
“How bad is it? I mean, I’ve never seen anything like that before. I don’t want to be the asshole that runs screaming to call the paramedics because I think she’s dying,” Stiles said, picking up a knife and the other whetstone, ready to try his hand at sharpening.
“It’s bad for about a minute, maybe less. She jerks around, sometimes makes some noise, but she get’s herself on the ground usually. If you just stand back and do nothing, she’ll be fine usually. She’s out of it for a few minutes, like passed out. Then she’s groggy for another fifteen. It only happens at work every couple months, maybe,” Chris explained. “She feels like shit for a while afterward. Don’t be surprised if you get called in at the last minute to cover for her since you’re the new guy.” Chris smiled like it was some kind of hazing, but Stiles would happily cover for something like that.
“At my last job I was coming in at the last minute to cover for obnoxious assholes with hangovers. You guys are solid, you need my help, I’m here, no questions asked,” Stiles promised as he mimicked the way Chris moved the knife blade over the stone.
“See, that’s what I told your dad. Not that he blames you for losing the last job, but... “ Chris paused thoughtfully, realizing he had treaded on sensitive territory, but he was his dad’s best friend. He knew everything, just like Scott did.
“He wants me to be adaptable, to conform to expectations because thats what you do to keep a job,” Stiles lowered his voice and gave it an intentionally insistent edge, mocking his father's opinion on the subject.
“He doesn’t get it because he never had shit jobs like working the register at a convenience store. He thinks he knows, but he always worked for friends and family until he was out of the academy. Then he worked for the Sheriff’s department. The actual jobs may have been shit, like when we decided to buck hay all summer for Cruz farms.” Chris laughed remembering the job. “We got fucking ripped. We both looked great for senior year, but it was miserable work. Cruz was a friend of my dad’s though. He let us drink beer at the end of the day and have parties in the empty fields at night, as long as we cleaned up. That’s how he met your mother and fell madly in love,” Chris teased.
“I remember the whole, disgusting story,” Stiles smiled.
When he was a kid he liked to pretend it grossed him out, but he felt lucky his parents loved each other so much. They met at what his mom called a ‘make-out party’ and pretty much never stopped. Scott’s parents barely tolerated each other, then got divorced. Stiles had seen the other side close up. His parents loved each other fiercely, right to the end.
“It was a shitty job, but the perks were great, obviously. Your mom was the best. I was so jealous, until I met Victoria.” Chris had never reminisced like this in front of him, but Stiles had never had a conversation with Chris without his dad being there.
“Didn’t she show up at school your senior year?” Stiles asked, handing his sharpened knife to Chris for inspection.
“Two weeks before, actually. She was school shopping at place in the mall where your mom worked. She came in alone and your mom got her her talking, then somehow got her to agree to come out for the last party before school started.” Chris turned the knife over in his hands and gave an approving nod, then handed him another one.
“I had no idea my mom played matchmaker for you guys, that’s kind of cool,” Stiles laughed. Stiles imagined it probably wasn't hard for his mom, she was outgoing and everyone loved her.
“Oh, you might think so, but no. It didn't get ‘cool’ ‘til about halfway through the school year. Victoria hated me. I was so ridiculously smitten with this bad ass, hard mouthed, New York chick. She had a mohawk Stiles. Here, in Beacon Hills,” Chris laughed. “She thought I was soft, and annoying. It was totally devastating,” Chris shook his head, looking like it still hurt a little even though he was smiling. “I had to take archery just to have one class with her because she was so much smarter than me. I was such an asshole. I thought I could win her over, but every time I talked to her she ripped me a new one for being a misogynistic apologist jerk. I had to actually read shit and evolve as a person to get her to talk to me. It was harrowing, but worth it.” Chris grinned, selling the sentiment.
“I guess my dad did have it kind easy, huh?” Stiles already loved this job. If he had known long, meandering tales involving his mother were going to happen, he would have begged to work here years ago.
“Your dad had it easy with your mom because he’s a good guy. He was always keeping me out of trouble, and I was always getting him in it. I might have been jealous of your mom for a while, but she made your dad happy. That’s all I ever cared about.” Chris shrugged and pulled down a pair of long, scary looking scissors that were probably used for cutting meats. “It’s a bitch and a half to live up to the legend though. It would be helpful if he had more flaws than bad cholesterol,” Chris smiled, but the commiseration was real. Of course, Chris of all people would understand what it was like to live up to the infamously perfect Sheriff John Stilinski. Smart, handsome, and father to all.
It took a moment for Stiles to realize Chris had said he was jealous of his mom, not jealous of which one of them she chose. Being jealous of her meant something much different. He wondered if Chris meant it for real, or if he was talking as a friend who didn't want to give up time with his best friend. Either way, Stiles understood. He loved Scott like a brother, but when Allison came back from boarding school last year, Scott suddenly fell off the face of the planet. Stiles was pissed. Not jealous, but pissed.
The way Chris cursed and talked like a kid was particularly refreshing. Stiles wondered if Chris held himself back around Stiles before, for John’s benefit, or if he was just trying to build a more equal relationship with Stiles. He seemed like he was being himself, laughing and talking like they were old friends. Maybe Chris didn't think about it, maybe he was one of those people that acted differently depending on who you were, but didn't really know they were doing it. It didn’t matter though, Stiles liked this Chris. This Chris was going to be the best boss ever.
“Okay, they're all sharp. Now we get to hack shit to pieces. This is the really fun part,” Chris smiled, the gleam in his eye was a bit disconcerting considering what he was so excited over.
The wolves ate mostly donated deer, elk, goats, cow, buffalo. Whatever came in and passed inspection they froze and doled out over the year. At first giant, half thawed hunks of elk looked and smelled disgusting, but after an hour of chopping, weighing, and filling up the repurposed oil pans with hunks of meat and bone, it was kind of fun. At the end Chris got a big salmon out of the refrigerator and chopped off the head and tail before throwing it in the heaviest pan.
“Is that for Sage?” Stiles asked, certain none of the other wolves could actually eat that much food.
“Yeah, salmon is his favorite. Your dad and the deputies keep him in it most of the year actually. It's so expensive to buy anymore. Here, dole out these apples, the whole bag, and I’ll get the carrots,” Chris instructed.
“I didn't know they ate apples,” Stiles said, picking up the big bag and dropping one in each pan, then over again till they were all gone. He threw the extra two in Sage's pan because he assumed he got most of the overflow.
“At night we feed them potatoes and other vegetables. They like chewing on them for fun. Keeps them busy. Sometimes the farms bring by good stuff, but the avocados are a pain in the ass. They can't eat the skins or the seeds because they’re poisonous, but the flesh, they love. They get pretty excited though, so it’s worth it.” Chris grinned as he dropped handfuls of juicing carrots into the pans. “You know how to drive a forklift?” he asked. Chris pointed to the small forklift parked next to the garage door, a carrot still in his hand.
“No, but it looks simple enough. Like a scooter?” Stiles asked.
“You’d think, but they steer with the back wheels. I’ll show you. Lets wash up so we don't smell as much like lunch first though.” Chris nudged Stiles playfully with his elbow and pointed him toward the sink to clean up.
Opening the garage door started the low, plaintive howling Stiles expected, but had never heard up close before. Chris gave him the highlights about the wolves after his interview the day before, mostly the weird, unsettling things, but the sound didn’t make him nervous like Chris said it might. The wolves sang like a choir, baying howling and and making a noise that almost sounded like laughing. They didn’t stop until Chris opened the doors to the separate bays and brought in the pans of food. Stiles noticed the small openings leading to the main plot of land didn’t close off before Chris went in. Any of the wolves could go in and out of any bay during feeding time. That didn’t seem incredibly safe, but Chris knew what he was doing.
“They separate themselves up this way on their own?” Stiles asked, curious how the wolves decided who went where and who ate with who.
“Yes, they understand their hierarchy and they respect the distance. It keeps feeding time quiet and safe for everyone. They’re smart. They’ll go steal each others bones and whatnot when they’re all back in the common area, but they’re all dedicated to keeping the peace. That’s how we know who’s paired off actually,” Chris explained. “Here you can take this in. Sunny is the matriarch, if she loves you they all will, and she pretty much loves everyone. Just wait there for her to check you out. You’ll know if she likes you.” Chris pointed to a spot in front of the gate.
Nervous was no way to be around wolves, but Stiles couldn’t help it. He had been in here before, visited, but he had never been allowed in the cages. After he was thirteen and would have been allowed in, he thought this place was stupid just because Chris worked here and his dad liked it. It wasn’t until just recently he even remembered it existed, really. He had distanced himself from his dad, and by default Chris. He acted like an asshole, and he was lucky Chris forgave him for it. It wasn’t easy for any of them after his mom died though.
Thinking about his mom and how she would have loved this place, how proud of him she would have been for working here and making the best of it, made Stiles brave. He pushed his fingers through the chain link fence for Sunny. She sniffed at him a little then licked his fingers, giving her approval. Whining and yipping, she jumped on the fence and wagged her tail, then let out a low, plaintive whine and clawed at the ground near the gate.
“Go ahead and open it. She might come out but they aren't interested in being out here. She’ll go right back in with the food bowl,” Chris assured him.
Stiles opened the gate and Sunny twisted her way through the small opening before he had a chance to give her more room. She sniffed him all over then nudged at his fingers like a dog. Once she was done checking him out she sat next to him and leaned against his leg. He pet her neck for a moment before Chris handed him the first pan of food. As promised, Sunny followed him in and started eating the second he set it down. They brought in two more bowls for her adopted kids, young rescued wolves, then moved on to the next bay.
They were so much like dogs Stiles was comfortable by the time they got to Sage in the last bay. The huge, black wolf sat silently, waiting and watching intently like he had before when Stiles showed up. He wasn't excitable like the other wolves, but Chris greeted him enthusiastically, just the same.
“Is he the omega, since he’s last?” Stiles asked, unsure how this big guy wasn't the alpha of the pack.
“He’s a lone wolf, that’s for sure. We don't see him much except feeding time. Even then he sometimes doesn’t come into the bay until we’re gone. Sometimes he skips a meal or two. I think he catches a lot of rabbits out there on his own. The rest of them are pretty lazy, honestly, but we keep it populated to keep them busy. They need rabbit at least every other day to stay healthy,” Chris explained. “We aren't really sure how he fits in the pack, except maybe that he doesn’t. He prefers to socialize with us, meaning me and Erica. He tolerates Boyd pretty well though, and he seems interested in you. If he likes us all, that will be a first since we opened. It used to be just me.”
“You think he’ll like me?” Stiles asked, hopeful. Sage looked and sounded like the most interesting thing at this place. Getting his blessing would mean something, like Stiles really belonged here like Erica and Boyd.
“Maybe? He’s pretty quick to judge, but if he likes you, he’s a big puppy,” Chris smiled like he had a secret, then laughed. “I’ll show you what I mean.”
Opening the gate, Chris stepped right through without any warning or set up like the other wolves. Sage came right over, walking circles around Chris and making the low, noise that sounded so much like laughing. Chris crouched down and Sage leaned into him, rubbing his face all over Chris like a cat. He pushed Chris over, forcing him to sit on the ground, then half laid in his lap, pawing and mouthing Chris’s hands as he dug into Sage's thick black fur.
“He’s making sure I stink more like him than the rest of them,” Chris laughed, explaining why Sage was so intent licking Chris’s hands. Apparently done with Chris, Sage got up and trotted over to the fence. He sat right in front of Stiles like he was waiting, he kept looking over his shoulder at Chris like he expected Chris to do something about the fat Stiles was still on the other side of the fence.
“This guy has some serious personality huh?” Stiles laughed. “He’s smart.”
“Yeah, he is. Come on in, you’re safe. He’s been here since the beginning and he’s never hurt anyone. If he doesn't like you he just leaves, or waits all the way over there,” Chris pointed to the other side of the large bay. Chris gestured for Stiles to come inside, staying on the ground where Sage put him.
Sage followed him along the fence to the gate then waited as he opened the door. The wolf immediately licked his hand and sat down next to him, the same as Sunny had done. Sage leaned into him the same way, somehow managing to look adorable instead of gigantic and predatory like he had before when he was staring at Stiles through the fence.
“Man, you’re a lover, not a fighter, huh?” Stiles asked the wolf, obviously not expecting an answer. Chris had been talking to the wolves the whole time, so he didn't feel so stupid doing it as well.
“I think you’ve passed inspection. I knew you’d fit in here.” Chris leaned over on his knees, grinning. “He likes you. You might want to consider a career in veterinary medicine, or stick around here until I retire and take over. You’ll have to fight Erica for it though.” Chris grinned like he was proud of Stiles.
“Yeah, man, that would be awesome,” Stiles laughed, elated that Sage accepted him so easily. “I’m really sorry I was such an asshole about it the first time you offered. I just....” Stiles sighed, unsure of how to apologize for treating Chris, all the Argents really, like they were invisible for so long. They reminded him of his mom, and he was angry she wasn't around.
“I don't give a shit about all that. You’re doing good now Stiles, and this place will just make it all that much better,” Chris assured him.
It was true, and it didn’t surprise him Chris knew that. He sent his daughter Allison away to avoid it. High school for Stiles was one long series of humiliations and failures after the other. Reliving them didn’t do him any favors, but it was hard to not think about it. Trying harder, he shook off the bad memories and asked Sage if he wanted lunch. He was answered with a low whine. Sage went back to Chris while Stiles picked up his heavy pan off the forklift and lugged it in. He set it down near the door like the other wolves, but Chris waved him over, motioning for him to bring the pans too.
“He doesn't protect his food for some reason, probably because he eats plenty. He’s even been known to take his food to other wolves like Sunny when they were sick. His odd behavior tells us a lot about what’s going on in here actually.” Chris had Sage on his lap, his arms wrapped around the wolf like he was a little kid.
“I think he’s really sensitive. It might be why he doesn't like being around the other wolves. They might be too much for him, all the excitement and playfulness. He seems to prefer running, but he does play sometimes, mostly with me. He likes to cuddle with Erica. Seriously, It’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen,” Chris laughed and gestured toward Sage. “If she has a seizure, he alerts, but that’s not uncommon. Dogs can sense seizures too. They even have service dogs for people who don't get a warning like Erica does, but he knows when she’s had one at home and still feels crappy. He’ll sit outside the window and stare until she comes out and hangs out with him.”
“It’s like he’s taking care of her or something.” Stiles was amazed. He felt bad that Erica had to suffer through something like seizures, but it had to be kind of weird and cool for her to have Sage around.
Stiles sat next to Chris and watched Sage pace around his lunch for a moment. He ate the salmon first, like Chris said he would. Watching him eat the elk, crunching bone, ripping the bloody flesh apart with his fierce looking fangs was just the reminder Stiles needed that Sage wasn't a giant, fluffy dog. He was a wild animal that happened to like them. He and Chris talked about work for a while, then left Sage to his lunch.
“See you later buddy, nice to meet you,” Stiles said before he walked out the gate. Sage cocked his head slightly, the same way he had before. It was the most dog-like thing he did, and it was cute.