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Language:
English
Series:
Part 1 of Addams Family Adoptions
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Published:
2020-05-03
Words:
381
Chapters:
1/1
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77
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1,147
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On the Run

Summary:

The ragtag Hale pack is on the run and running thin on allies - where can you go when you're being hunted by humans and monsters alike? Turns out Stiles has some distant family who will be more than happy to take them in.

Notes:

I adore Addams Family crossovers, let me tell you, and I have several long plots but I've been toying with the idea of doing some vignette/snapshop ones also . . . the incomparable M has been Very Encouraging about this. (See the new 'series' this is part of. >.>) And also about this one specifically, when I jotted it down while erranding recently. ;)

. . .M also encouraged there being potentially more vignettes to follow up this one in the same continuity. That may yet happen.

Work Text:

“You can’t just think-” Lydia took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment, then pinned Stiles with a sharp glare. “You are just going to show up on your mother’s family’s doorstep, family you haven’t seen for over a decade, with a pack of werewolves, a banshee, a hunter’s daughter, and an emergency.”

“Yep.” Stiles said, popping the word obnoxiously.

“An emergency in the form of a pack of vampires and at least two hunter squads-”

“Yes, Lydia.” Stiles interrupted, one of the few people who ever dared interrupt her. “An emergency in the form of people hunting us, human and not.”

Derek shifted uncomfortably. “Stiles, are you-”

“It’ll be fine.” Stiles beckoned them through the large wrought iron gate, turning to walk backwards. “Trust me. They’re. . . It’ll be fine.”

He turned around again and, not having any better options, they followed after him, as they had this far, a ragtag bunch of battered and weary pack. Derek swallowed a whine, wishing he could help them more than he had. But-

They’re all still alive, Derek. Stiles’ voice in his memory, sharp and gentle at once. Derek looked at him as he led them up to the door of the huge, dark mansion. Derek knew Stiles was at least as responsible for their survival as he was, but . . . he was right.

If nothing else, his ragged pack was alive, and together.

Stiles reached for the bell, and then a pale woman in a black dress swept out onto the porch before he could touch it. “Oh, Mieczysław! Darling, welcome home!” she said in a soft, husky voice, drawing him into an embrace, then pulling back and looking at the rest of them with a sharp-edged, crimson smile. “Welcome, all of you.”

“Hello, Aunt Morticia.” Stiles said as Derek, along with most of his pack, stared. “We kind of need a place to stay. And there might be people hunting us.”

Morticia kissed him on the cheek. “How delightful. Come in, dear, all of you. I shall tell Gomez he may bring down the sabres and the musket!” She gestured dramatically over her head with one hand. “You must tell us of your adventures!”

“Thanks, Aunt Morticia. C’mon.” Stiles looked around at them with a wry half-smile. “It’s safe here.”

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