Judgement and Justice

Part one: Justice

A female figure appeared in the centre of the ritual space.

Her skin was smooth and dark, and in the low light looked dusted with gold. She was beautiful and untouchable in her otherworldly remoteness and, despite her youthful appearance, her eyes held the weight of centuries. “You have summoned an Avatar of Justice and Judgment,” she said. “You may call me Justitia. I will hear your plea. What Justice do you request?”

Allison and Derek stood on opposite sides of the circle. Scott stood to Allison’s right, with Lydia on his other side. Stiles had Derek on his right and Lydia on his left, and was standing opposite Peter, who was on Jackson’s right and Allison’s left. Cora stood between Jackson and Derek, and Boyd, Erica, and Isaac, stood at Derek’s back, just outside the circle.

“I want Derek Hale to be punished,” said Allison, stepping forward immediately. “According to the lore, if we follow the ritual exactly you have to deliver this Justice.”

Stiles frowned at Lydia, who was standing to his left. This meeting was supposed to be the start of peace. Providing everything went the way Stiles and Lydia had planned, everyone was supposed to walk away having worked out their issues and agreed to a treaty of non-aggression.

This was not how peace talks were supposed to start. Was Allison going off script, or had Lydia changed the plan?

Stiles really wished there had been enough time to go over this ritual with more thoroughness, but there hadn’t been much time between Lydia presenting the idea and the solstice, which was the only time this year the stars would be optimally aligned for this ritual.

Shit. He could tell this was going to go badly, and it was already too late to back out.

“You desire to punish the one who, by the pledge of his power and that of his pack, facilitated this summoning?” Justitia asked. “Why would you wish such a thing?”

“He killed my mother.”

“Incorrect,” replied Justitia, to Stiles’ relief. “Derek Hale defended your lover, Scott McCall, from Victoria Argent’s murder attempt. Despite being within his rights to use lethal force to do so, since he knew her to be an unrepentant psychopathic killer and she was caught in the act of cold-blooded murder, he did not. Instead, he worked to ensure everyone got out alive. He succeeded, against all odds.

“Victoria Argent took her own life rather than wait for your grandfather, Gerard Argent, to kill her to cleanse his line of the ‘taint.’”

“My mother wasn’t ‘in his line,’” said Allison coldly, her face set stubbornly.

“She was his daughter,” Justitia returned.

Allison’s mouth twisted into a sneer. “Gerard was my father’s father. You’ve just proven to everyone here that you don’t know what you’re talking about; why should we listen to anything you have to say?”

Justitia didn’t react to Allison’s open scorn. “I am able to See the truth of every single moment in the past that has led us to this place. You may not be aware that your mother was Gerard Argent’s illegitimate daughter, but he was aware of it, and so was she.”

“Pause that,” interjected Lydia sharply. “Chris and Victoria Argent were half-siblings?”

“No,” Justitia answered serenely. “Chris Argent was sired by the Argent family chauffeur, a man by the name of Geoff Markson. Gerard and Victoria were unaware of this and believed that Chris was indeed Victoria’s half-brother.”

These revelations were making Stiles feel slightly queasy. Going by the reactions of the others, he wasn’t the only one.

Scott either didn’t understand the implications or just didn’t care. He hovered at Allison’s side supportively, like a well-trained guard dog.

That was worrying. Despite the difficulties Scott and Stiles had been having lately, Stiles would still do his best to help him, just like he’d done his best to help Scott adjust to his new lycanthropy. This obsession with Allison—the increasingly psychopathic daughter of a family of distinctly insane sounding psychopathic hunters—had ‘disaster’ written all over it.

Stiles took another look around, wondering again if this had been a good course of action.

Derek stood stoically; feet braced against the ground as if he expected an attack at any moment. His usual frown masked whatever he was thinking. That didn’t surprise Stiles at all.

Behind Derek and slightly to his right, Isaac was huddled with Erica and Boyd. Stiles couldn’t see their faces, but their body language gave away plenty. The trio wanted Derek’s protection, but weren’t confident enough to ask for his attention.

Stiles almost snorted aloud at that thought. Good. Stiles wasn’t a werewolf—and had no intention of becoming one—but it didn’t take supernatural instincts to understand that Erica and Boyd had screwed up big time when they decided to run away.

Stiles got why they wanted revenge after being tortured—he’d been tortured too—but he also understood why Derek had forbidden them from pursuing it.

It wasn’t just about personal revenge, it couldn’t be. If Derek and his pack weren’t careful, the Argents might push the situation—already quite volatile enough, thank you very much—into a nation-wide wolf hunt. As momentarily satisfying as a quick revenge would be, in the long run the Hales—and every other werewolf on the hunters’ radar—would be the ones to lose.

Stiles still didn’t know all the details. He knew that Erica and Boyd went from the Argent basement back to Derek, then ran away, then they were suddenly back again, showing distinct signs of penitence and a clear desire to placate their alpha. On their return, Isaac’s loyalties had shifted from Scott back to Derek.

The whole thing was something Stiles planned to keep an eye on. Derek had proven that he wanted to be a good alpha, but leadership skills don’t just come from nowhere. Derek needed all the help he could get, and in Stiles’ opinion, Derek deserved help.

He deserved to have people around him who genuinely wanted his prosperity. Life had been shitting on him from a great height for quite long enough. Stiles wasn’t sure what he had to offer, besides his mad research skills—this debacle notwithstanding—but he was going to offer Derek whatever help he could.

Especially with Allison showing signs of instability. Chris had already proven he had the moral spine of a wet noodle, if Allison went all Sith Lord again then her gunrunner father would probably be along for the ride.

Shit.

Cora Hale, who had recently arrived in town, was standing squarely beside her brother. She made no effort to hide her revulsion at this airing of Argent dirty linen. On her other side, Jackson looked disgusted too.

Jackson…actually, Jackson was reacting more extremely than Stiles would have expected. Jackson usually didn’t care about what was going on with others unless it impacted him directly, so what the hell was going on with him?

Lydia looked unruffled by these revelations. Her focus hadn’t changed, she seemed intent on going forward with the Judgement, despite the precarious situation it would put them all in. Something else was going on with her, and Stiles had no idea what it was. God, it was annoying to only have some pieces of the puzzle!

Peter stood to Jackson’s right. Even in this slightly formal atmosphere, there was a sense that he was apart from the other werewolves, that he was being kept at a distance. Despite that, his eyes were dancing with mirth; he looked happier than Stiles had seen him since the resurrection.

Which—okay, Stiles could see why Peter would find this amusing, but he had been against performing the summoning, had actively tried to prevent it, in fact. He must be aware that his turn to be judged was coming up. Stiles was surely not looking forward to his.

Lydia screwed up her nose. “Victoria had a child with a man she believed to be her half-brother?”

“No,” corrected Justitia. “It was because Victoria believed Chris to be her half-brother that Victoria was careful to ensure that the genetic provider for her child was unrelated. She asked her father for help, and he hand-picked one of his most loyal men for the task. That man’s name was Bradley Tierney.”

Allison’s sneer turned into a grimace. Which meant she knew the name, and it wasn’t a connection that she relished.

“I have no idea who any of those people are,” said Cora, just loud enough for Stiles to hear her. Peter moved to her side and whispered in her ear. Cora listened, nodding occasionally before her eyes opened wide. “Really?”

Peter smirked, and Derek just sighed.

“What did he say?” Allison hissed at Scott.

Scott shrugged. “I couldn’t hear him.” He didn’t look bothered by that, either.

It was Stiles turn to sigh. If it were him with the super-duper hearing, he would have been all in on testing that stuff to find its limits. Scott’s lack of interest in his werewolf superpowers—except for the all-important lacrosse—drove him crazy.

Justitia waited, her golden robes wafting in some otherworldly breeze.

“It doesn’t matter,” Allison said finally. “Regardless of my parentage, I called you here to see Justice done for my mother’s death. According to the texts, if I demand Judgement, you must provide it. Derek Hale’s choices led to my mother’s death, and I want him to pay!”

“What you wish for is vengeance, child,” Justitia said, her serene countenance unmoved. “Ill-applied vengeance, at that. I have already counselled you against taking this path. If you continue, then you are committing all those whose essence you have drawn upon for your ritual to undergo Judgement as well, unto the seventh degree. Including yourself.”

Scott frowned. “What does ‘to the seventh degree’ mean?”

“It means that either the repercussions will be felt seven-fold, or that it will affect those who hold our blood to seven removes,” Stiles answered automatically. He cast a glance at Peter, who was no longer laughing. Shit, Peter had been right, this was a terrible idea. “Or both.”

“Well, which is it?” Scott demanded, scowling fiercely at the Avatar before them.

Justitia just smiled that annoying, blandly serene smile.

Stiles groaned, wishing he’d never let Lydia talk him into this. Next time—if they survived this with enough of their pieces intact for there to be a next time—he was going to make sure that he was the one to do all the research. Clearly, trusting that Lydia had done a thorough job been a big mistake. This wasn’t at all what the information she’d given him had led him to expect. This was a nightmare.

Going by the mutterings even Stiles’ human hearing could pick up, Peter agreed with him.

“Well?” Scott said even more aggressively when he got no answer.

“It doesn’t matter,” Allison said, drawing her shoulders back and raising her chin. “I’ve come this far; I’m not going to back out now. I want Justice upon Derek Hale for the death of my mother.”

“As I have already said,” Justitia replied placidly, “you may request a Judgement on your mother’s behalf, but from there you give the issue into our hands, and we will decide what is to happen, and to whom it will be happening.”

“Stop trying to stop me,” Allison said angrily, eyes flashing. She shrugged off Lydia’s attempt to get her attention. “I demand Justice! Upon the one whose choices caused my mother’s death!”

“And if we determine that more than one person is implicated?”

“Fine! I want the person, or persons, whose choices led to my mother’s death punished!”

“Very well,” Justitia said with a slow nod. “Your demand has been heard, the price has been offered, the Judgement will be made.” She closed her eyes and lowered her head.

Stiles could almost hear a whispering sound on the very edge of his hearing. He listened harder, but it only got fainter. Shit! This was supposed to be over by now!

Justitia raised her head. Her golden eyes had begun to glow brighter, with a bright, white light spilling out and staining the night. “It has been decided. What penalty would you see meted out as recompense? You may not request a life.”

Lydia reached towards Allison again, and again was rebuffed.

Allison was looking towards Derek, her eyes alight with triumph. “I want you to take from him that which he depends upon above all else!” she said gleefully. “I want him to remember what he caused for the rest of his life!”

“You have spoken two penalties,” came the detached voice. “Either will suffice, but you must choose one. Once you have chosen and the penalty enacted, then Judgement will begin. There is still time to step back.”

“No!” Allison insisted. “I want him to pay! Take that which he depends upon above all else! He’ll remember all on his own!”

“Do wish for something tangible or intangible to be taken?”

Stiles wanted to shut his eyes. He’d been listening carefully to what had been said, and more importantly what hadn’t been said. Allison thought she was punishing Derek, but given Justitia’s responses, that wasn’t going to happen, which meant that someone else was going to get Allison’s revenge whammy. Or more than one person, given Justitia’s insistence on correct wording. Unless she was just a stickler for the rules being followed? Stiles could picture that. Still. All things being equal, it was more likely to be the former.

Shit!

The only reason Stiles had agreed to this stupid ritual was because he was sure it was the only way to persuade Allison that her ongoing desire for revenge against Derek was misplaced.

Even better, it had been Stiles who had persuaded Derek and his pack to attend and lend their power to this summoning; Stiles who had convinced Derek that it would be a show of good faith that could end the feud-like tension between the Argents and the Hales before more blood was spilled.

Now Derek looked braced for the worst. He met Allison’s triumphant joy with a direct blandness directly belied by the tension that Stiles could see in his shoulders. But then, Derek had a lot of experience in dealing with crazy Argents who seemed to want nothing more than his pain.

A glance over to Scott showed that he wasn’t in the least bit repulsed by his girlfriend’s manic need to screw over the guy who was only in this position because he’d been saving Scott’s life. In fact, Scott was looking as invested in Allison as ever.

Stiles’ stomach turned; he wondered for the first time if Scott would still be standing by Allison supportively if it had been Stiles that had accidentally set Victoria’s death in motion while saving his best friend’s life.

It hurt to realise that he honestly didn’t know. Or maybe he did, he just didn’t want to admit it.

Stiles felt something deep inside him break. He squared his shoulders and widened his stance. Scott had proven time and time again that he couldn’t be depended upon if Allison were in any way involved.

Derek, on the other hand, had saved his life again and again. While Stiles couldn’t call Derek his friend, he knew he could rely on him. It was time to stop propping up the one-sided friendship that kept costing him, and try to see if he could forge a new one with someone that he could trust.

Allison started laughing. Stiles wondered if he was the only one who was seeing a distinct resemblance between her and Psycho Kate.

“How about intangible?” Allison almost crooned, having finally stopped laughing. “Real things are so easy to replace, or to compensate for. Take something intangible. I want it to hurt.”

“I can assure you that it will,” Justitia said. For the first time since the ritual began, she sounded sad. “So be it.”

Stiles didn’t know what he’d been expecting. A flash of light maybe? Some sort of dramatic power-chord?

Nope. Nothing.

“Well?” Allison asked hungrily. “Is it done?”

“It is done,” Justitia confirmed. “The four people yet alive whose avoidable choices led to the death of Victoria Argent have had that which is intangible that they depend upon most removed.” The glow that had lit her eyes faded.

That seemed to shock Allison back to some semblance of sanity.

It was Scott who asked the question that everyone was probably thinking. “Wait, which four are you talking about? I thought it was only supposed to affect Derek?”

Because Stiles was watching for it, he saw Derek’s slight flinch at Scott’s dismissal of him, and his efforts to keep the ungrateful bastard alive.

Stiles couldn’t stand it any longer, and took two deliberate steps to the right, clearly aligning himself with the Hale Pack. Even as he did so, something tenuous and wavery inside him solidified. In the place where his ‘spark’ came from a connection had formed, leading to someone else. Someone that made him feel safe.

Peter cocked his head and leered creepily, but Stiles was pleased to see that Derek’s posture relaxed infinitesimally.

“Gerard Argent, Chris Argent, Allison Argent, and Scott McCall.”

“What?” Allison looked so shocked that Stiles wondered if she’d considered even for a moment that things might not go the way she wanted them to go. Just how sheltered had her life been until the whole werewolf reveal?

Scott just stood there with his mouth open.

Shit. Gerard was still alive, or he wouldn’t have been mentioned! On the other hand, he was apparently getting the karmic smack-down, so he was probably not going to be a serious issue in the future.

Everyone in the Hale Pack relaxed slightly. Except for Peter, who was the picture of glee. Stiles had automatically begun wondering what that was about, when it hit him. Unto the seventh degree. A whole bunch of Argents were getting the whammy, or three Argents were getting epic whammy. Or both. Or something like it.

And there was no way that this could be blamed on the Hale pack. As Justitia had said, Allison had given the issue over to the ritual, and the power of everyone present was tied to the result. Considering the number of werewolves involved, this could not be hidden. Every single person affected, every single person touched by this Justice would know exactly why and how it came to be, and what’s more, they would be unable to lie about it.

Stiles had no idea how he suddenly knew all this, how he knew that regardless of what else happened, a worldwide truth spell had been cast, and no further action on this matter could be taken by anyone, anywhere.

Normally Stiles would be doing his best to find Scott a way out of this, but because of the terms of the summoning there was nothing that Stiles could do to fix it for him. Not that Stiles felt that Scott really deserved his help, at this point it was almost a reflex.

Shit! What about Melissa? Stiles hoped like hell that Scott hadn’t managed to screw things up for his mother. Did she even know what was going on tonight?

Allison burst into tears and Scott immediately started comforting her.

Stiles wondered if Scott had even thought about the consequences for himself and his mother. Given how much of Scott’s brain’s RAM was taken up with Allison’s presence even at the best of times, it would probably be some time before he gave anyone else any thought at all.

“Please prepare for Judgement to commence,” Justitia said, interrupting Stiles’ ruminations.

Right. Forgot about that part for a moment. Part of the price of the summoning was that everyone involved would be judged. He’d known that, he just hadn’t thought it would get this far. Lydia had assured him it wouldn’t get this far.

Going by the anticipatory smugness on her face, she’d lied to him; she’d been hoping for this to happen. Had been counting on it, even.

Why?

Jackson was looking like he wanted to make a run for it, and Stiles had an epiphany. Had Jackson done something that pissed Lydia off? So soon after their big ‘love conquers all’ moment in the warehouse? Or could it be that she’d only just found out about it?

Oh my god, was everyone around him morally bankrupt? How on earth could she think that it was a good idea to put all of them through this just to get back at Jackson?

Stiles had never thought himself to be a paragon of exemplary ethics or upright honourability. Quite frankly, he’d always known that he would do what it took to keep his loved ones safe, and he wasn’t above murdering someone to do it. He’d have quite cheerfully have taken Gerard’s life, for instance.

Of course, he hadn’t murdered anyone yet, but Stiles didn’t fool himself. So far murder hadn’t been necessary. If it ever was? Well, he probably wouldn’t beat himself up about it too hard. He’d been more than willing to throw a Molotov cocktail at Peter.

Right now, the person he worried most about keeping safe was his dad, and Lydia’s lies—and the stupid way Stiles had trusted her—had just put his dad in terrible danger. Stiles was self-aware enough to know that he couldn’t be considered a ‘good’ person, and now his dad might be in the firing line because of Stiles again.

Well, fuck this. He stepped forward.

Stiles could feel everyone’s eyes on him, but he kept his attention firmly on Justitia. “I submit to Judgement,” he said, trying to sound as respectful as possible. “I know it is not my place, but I ask that my wrongdoings be delivered back to me and only to me. Rather than seven removes, I suggest instead that the sentence be seven to the power of seven. That way the full price will still be paid.”

Justitia cocked her head, and that far off whispering happened again.

Stiles stood there waiting, hoping that she would take his offer.

“What of any rightdoings?” Justitia asked him. “How would you ask payment for those to be allocated?”

“Ah,” Stiles was thrown for a moment. Rightdoings? Oh, yes, the scales of Justice. There were two sides, of course. There always was. “I’m happy for any beneficial thingys to be shared out the normal way,” he said, blushing at his informal language. It just seemed wrong. “It’s just the punishment I would prefer to take on myself.”

“Your intention has been heard,” Justitia replied, inclining her head. She smiled faintly, not the bland thing she had been using earlier, but something that looked like an honest to goodness actual smile. “However, those to the seventh degree are to be judged and their scales will be balanced; it is not our intention for the injustices perpetrated by some to be felt by others.”

Stiles had never been so happy to be wrong in his life. He wasn’t the only one who had made the same mistake, going by the gusts of relieved air that he heard expelled from several throats at the same time, like the world’s first synchronised sighing attempt. Well, probably the world’s first. Maybe? It was unlikely that synchronised sighing was actually a thing.

He dragged his wandering attention back to what the Avatar of Justice and Judgement was saying.

“The balancing of the scales occurs differently for everyone,” Justitia said, her impersonal gaze sweeping over all of those present. “Just as no two lives are the same, neither will their Judgements be. Certain elements remain the same, however. The number of blessings and tragedies in your life are of no importance. What counts are actions that you’ve taken, or in some cases, not taken.

“If you had wealth, how did you use it? If you were homeless, did you harm others to make your own situation better? When choices were available to you, did you choose in such a way as to provide hurt or help to others? Did you care? Your motivations will have an impact. As will the motivations of those whose actions affected the actions you took.”

Stiles drew in a deep breath and glanced sideways at Derek. The Hale Alpha was standing to attention, as he had been since Allison and Scott had arrived. His face was set in his usual scowl, the one Stiles liked to think of as his ‘resting bitch face.’

“There may be instances where Justice has already administered. If you have committed a crime, were caught, served your punishment and are truly repentant, then that episode is deemed closed and will not be revisited. Provided the punishment was sufficient to the crime, of course.”

Stiles thought about all the times he’d broken into his father’s work computer, about how he’d used his knowledge of the law to skirt the boundaries, pushing things right to the edge. That time he used what he’d learnt to manipulate Danny to break the law. His vicious satisfaction at being part of Peter’s death. He winced, wondering just how bad things were going to get.

Shit.

“When I call your name, you will stand before me. Some Judgements can be completed without discussion, it is merely a question of bringing things back into balance. Some will include discussion; others will receive brief explanations.”

Justitia’s eyes began to glow. “We begin now.”

Part two: Judgement

“Isaac Lahey, Vernon Boyd, Cora Hale, your scales require minimal balancing. Your lives have not included an excess of either good or evil actions. You may step back.

“Erica Reyes…step forward.”

Erica’s eyes widened briefly, before she lifted her chin and did as requested, standing just in front of Derek.

Justitia’s glowing stare focused on her. “Erica Reyes, do you submit yourself to Judgement?”

Erica swallowed, but nodded. “I do.”

“There is only one instance that prevents your scales from being balanced as easily as those you stand with, but it is a serious matter. When you used a metal object to strike Mieczyslaw Stilinski unconscious, you did so in the belief that he was an ordinary human, with no extra strength or healing abilities, correct?”

Stiles facepalmed at the use of his true name. So much for keeping that one a secret.

Erica winced. “Yes.”

“Having committed what might possibly be serious damage against his person, you did not seek medical help on his behalf. You dropped him into a dumpster.”

Derek’s eyes flared red, but he didn’t say anything. Peter gave Stiles an evaluating stare, then winked. Stiles really didn’t know what to do with that.

“Had Mieczyslaw Stilinski been the ordinary human you thought him to be, he would have died. Tell me, Erica Reyes, should you pay the penalty for the death he would have suffered if he had been what you thought him to be? What level of culpability is owed by your alpha, on whose instructions you were delaying Mieczyslaw Stilinski?”

Erica swallowed. She glanced at Boyd, then at Derek, and then straightened her shoulders. “Any penalty should be mine alone. My alpha instructed me ensure that Stiles didn’t interfere, but the methods I employed were my own choice.”

Justitia’s eyes glowed brighter for a moment. “The scales of your life have been balanced. Erica Reyes, for the aforementioned unprovoked attack, you will have five years taken from your natural lifespan. Your recognition of your culpability and your willingness to make restitution—despite the death not occurring—have been weighed in your favour. You may step back.”

Erica nodded and returned to Boyd’s side. He gathered her into a one-armed hug and whispered something in her ear that made her relax slightly.

Stiles was still stuck on what Justitia had said. ‘Had he been the ordinary human you thought him to be.’ What could she mean by that? She’d somehow recognised that Stiles was something other than human, but what? Right up until that moment Stiles himself would have sworn that he was human, but maybe it was something like Lydia’s thing, and it needed to be triggered by a bite or something to surface?

“Peter Hale, stand before me.” Justitia commanded.

Stiles felt a small amount of empathy for Peter as he took his place in the spotlight. Sure, he did a lot of evil things, but then hello, insane!

“Peter Hale, do you submit to Judgement?”

Peter nodded. “I do.” He stared straight ahead and visibly braced himself.

“Peter Hale. The balancing of your scales is a delicate matter. Be aware that once this is complete, you start with a clean slate. In the furtherance of that goal, we have a question to ask you. Many deeds ostensibly done by your hand are the product of madness, a madness that was maliciously inflicted upon you by others. These actions are therefore attributed to them, and will not count against you.”

Peter blinked, eyebrows raised. His surprised expression mirrored Stiles’ feelings. Was it really that simple? Was Peter really not accountable for his actions during that time? This was going to need a bit of a rethink.

“There is but one matter relating to that time that requires resolution,” continued Justitia. “In your madness you gave a non-consensual transformative bite to an innocent. We have ruled that the transformation was therefore unauthorised and must not stand. In order for balance to be achieved, the state of lycanthropy will be removed from either you or Scott McCall. Which will it be?”

Peter hesitated. He opened his mouth as if he were going to say something, but then looked over to where Scott was still fussing over Allison. “Let Scott decide,” he said finally.

Stiles’ breath caught in his throat. For all of Scott’s insistence that he wanted to find a ‘cure’, he’d not been slow to take advantage of the benefits his new status had given him. Did he really want to give up being a werewolf? What would it mean for Peter if he didn’t?

“What?” Scott said, looking up at the second mention of his name.

“You get to choose if you want to be a werewolf or not,” Stiles explained before anyone else could say anything. “Peter is letting you decide.”

“Of course I don’t want to be a werewolf!” Scott said, frowning at Peter and Justitia. “I was never given a choice about whether I wanted to become a monster or not!”

“So, you choose to give up your lycanthropy?” Justitia asked intently.

“Yes!” Scott said irritably. “Aren’t you supposed to know everything? Why are you asking me this?”

The air around them seemed to shudder.

“It is our choices that shape the people we become,” Justitia said, before turning back to Peter. “Your choice has already begun to shape how your future will play out. Peter Hale, the scales of your life are balanced. Go forth.”

Peter stepped back, looking stunned. He pressed a splayed-out hand against the centre of his chest as he turned back to where Derek and his pack were standing. When Peter rejoined their ranks he stood to the back of Derek and Cora, and slightly between them. There was a lump in Stiles’ throat and a warm feeling in his belly as he saw hands reach out to touch. Peter finally had a pack again.

Stiles turned to check on Scott, wondering if that meant that his lycanthropy was also gone. It was hard to tell, Scott was still focusing all his attention on comforting Allison.

“Jackson Whittemore, stand before me.”

Jackson stepped forward with his usual cockiness, although the angle of his chin gave away his nervousness.

“Do you submit to Judgement?”

“Yes, I do,” said Jackson firmly, eyes fixed forwards, shoulders braced, resembling Peter to an eerie degree.

“The actions performed while you were transformed into a juvenile kanima are not part of your Judgement,” Justitia reassured him. “Those actions belong to those who commissioned the acts.”

Jackson breathed a visible sigh of relief.

“However,” said Justitia, obviously not done yet, “the coercion you employed for the purpose of pressuring an alpha into giving you a transformative bite is a part of your Judgement.”

Jackson winced. “That’s fair.”

Justitia’s gaze was penetrating. “You admit your wrongdoing? Are you willing to give up the gift of lycanthropy you received in restitution?”

A flicker of anguish passed across Jackson’s face. “Yes.”

“Then it is done.”

The air shuddered again. Jackson lifted a hand to his chest, looking startled. “I can still feel them.”

“You don’t have to be a werewolf to be Pack,” said Derek, walking forward and reaching out to rest a hand on his shoulder.

Jackson’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, and he nodded. “Thank you, alpha.” He looked back at the avatar. “What else? That can’t be all.”

“Aside from that, you have lived a balanced life, Jackson Whittemore, as many mortals do. Your numerous secret charitable endeavours balance against your aggressive bullying.”

Jackson went bright red, but Stiles couldn’t tell if that was from being called out as a bully by a higher power or having his charity work exposed. It made Stiles wonder…what charity work? At least he wasn’t the only one surprised. The only one who didn’t look surprised was Isaac. Lydia looked surprised and also irate.

Huh.

“Jackson Whittemore, the scales of your life are balanced. Go forth.”

Jackson nodded and, at Derek’s urging, moved back into the circle of his packmates.

Justitia moved so that she was facing Allison and Scott. If she continued her circular progress, Stiles would have his Judgement second to last, just before Derek.

“Allison Argent, stand before me.”

“What?” Scott objected fiercely. “Allison and I have already been judged; you can’t judge us again!”

“The Ritual of Justice was called for; the verdict was delivered,” Justitia corrected him. “Part of the price was that all participants undergo Judgement, the balancing of the scales. This is an entirely separate matter from the verdict that was passed.”

Stiles frowned. The whole thing was a bit confusing. He really wanted to find out exactly what the story was. Things weren’t happening at all the way he’d thought they’d go. Mind you, given that Lydia had almost certainly given him flawed and incomplete research, that wasn’t terribly surprising.

Allison raised a tear ravaged face. “If you think for one second I’m going to do anything you tell me to do, you’re crazier than I thought you were! I wanted Derek Hale to suffer!”

“I know well what you wanted,” Justitia replied sternly. “You blamed an innocent for a loss that you were complicit in.”

“How was I complicit?” Allison demanded. “What did I do that led to my mother’s death, that required my punishment!”

“The only one who insisted upon ‘punishment’ was yourself,” Justitia reminded her. “I warned you that the path you walked was perilous and that you would not find what you sought at the end. You ignored my warnings, just as you ignore any truth that challenges the perceptions you cling to.”

“You haven’t answered me!”

Justitia frowned. “You bargained with your parents for your lover’s safety with an oath that you would no longer have sexual relations with him, or even spend time with him. When your mother discovered that you had broken your end of the bargain, she felt fully justified in breaking her end.”

“That makes no sense!” Scott objected. “You’re punishing us for being in love?”

“You are being ‘punished’ because Allison Argent demanded that it be so,” Justitia said, starting to sound fed up. “No one forced you to continue your relationship; you did so with full knowledge of both the opposition of her family and that same family’s predilection for murdering werewolves. You made a choice, one whose repercussions led ultimately to the death of Victoria Argent.”

“Derek was the one who bit her!”

“Derek Hale acted to save your life. The accidental bite that occurred at that time was not only accidental, but it was in self-defence. He is exonerated. Now, the ritual requirements are clear, all participants must undergo the balancing of the scales. Allison Argent, stand before me.”

“No.”

“You were a driving force behind calling me,” Justitia pointed out. “Part of the price of such an undertaking is the agreement to stand and be judged. The Judgement you negotiated for has been upheld; your Justice was delivered. Do you now formally declare your unwillingness to uphold your side of the bargain?”

“Justice was not done!” Allison raged. “My mother’s death has yet to be avenged! You’ve made up a whole lot of nonsense to get out of it, but everyone can see what rubbish it is! Why would I agree to let you hurt me further? How stupid do you think I am?”

Justitia didn’t answer her final question. “The lack of veracity in your compatriots and your own deluded imaginings are not up for debate. You called for a service, that service was performed. The price is now due. Will you pay it?”

Allison’s mouth twisted. “No.”

“Then be named Oathbreaker. All will know that by word or deed, you cannot be trusted.” Justitia’s voice rang will a bell-like tone.

Allison snarled at her, pulling a throwing knife from where it had been hidden on her belt and releasing it in Justitia’s direction in one smooth movement.

Stiles tensed, then relaxed.

The knife didn’t make it far. It dropped to the ground about a foot in front of Allison, who looked as shocked as Stiles felt.

Lydia’s voice broke the silence. “That which is intangible that they depend upon most…”

“I can’t throw things?” said Allison. “Whoop-de-do. I’ve got other weapons at my disposal.”

Justitia raised one unimpressed eyebrow. “Allison Argent, your scales have been balanced.”

“I didn’t agree!”

“Of course you did,” said Lydia before Justitia could respond. “I don’t know if you’re being deliberately obtuse or you’re drawing this out on purpose, but I, for one, have had enough of this. I want to just get it over and done with so I can go home.”

Allison turned on her. “What the hell? This whole thing was your idea!”

“An idea that you leapt on,” Lydia pointed out. “The fine print was there in the information packet I gave you. You can’t just back out of a magically enforced agreement! Especially when we used the magic of an entire pack of werewolves in its creation.”

Allison snarled at Derek. “This is all your fault!”

Derek’s expression didn’t change from the blank attentiveness he’d directed at anyone not in his pack since this whole thing began.

“Looks like paranoid delusions run in the family,” murmured Peter from behind him. “No doubt one of the traits so carefully bred into the Argent line.”

Stiles was sure he saw the corner of Derek’s mouth twitch slightly.

“Alison Argent, the scales of your life have been balanced,” repeated Justitia. “Your sentence is grave, as are your crimes, which remain unmitigated by remorse or acceptance of guilt. Your natural lifespan has been reduced by one half. Until you come to an honest recognition of the events that led you here, you will have no children of your own nor will you be placed in any kind of mentorship role that would enable you to pass your flawed thinking on. Your Judgement is complete. You may go forth.”

Allison’s eyes were narrowed with hate. “This is utter bullshit!”

Justitia ignored her. “Scott McCall, stand before me. Do you submit to Judgement?”

Scott stood forward proudly. “If I must. I have nothing to fear; I did what I had to do to protect people. It’s what I do.”

Justitia raised her eyebrows. “Who were you protecting when you forced a paralysed Derek Hale to give the greatest gift in his possession to the man who orchestrated the agonising death of the majority of his pack?”

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration, isn’t it?” said Scott, rolling his eyes. “I was protecting my mother. Gerard threatened to harm her if I didn’t work with him. I knew he wanted the bite, Deaton and I worked that out after I found Gerard’s cancer meds. I didn’t have a choice if I wanted to save my mother.”

“You could have chosen to warn Derek Hale, to ask for consent to a plan that required the use of his body to be successful. You did not.”

Scott sighed. “Look, Derek doesn’t play well with others. I wasn’t going to risk him saying no.”

“Because you don’t regard consent as important, unless it’s yours.” Justitia looked steadily at him. “Have you heard the saying, ‘Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely,’ Scott McCall?”

“Yes,” said Scott. “I’m not sure what it has to do with me.”

“That saying is inaccurate,” said Justitia. “Power doesn’t create corruption; it only enhances what’s already there. So, Scott McCall, explain to me how the premeditated overturning of the bodily autonomy of an ally for your own gain is not considered corrupt.”

“It wasn’t my gain,” argued Scott. “It was to save my mother.”

Justitia stared at him, eyes beginning to glow. “There were no other reasons for your actions?”

“Gerard said that if I helped him with Derek, he’d let me date Allison,” blurted Scott. “She’s my destiny, my reward for being a hero. Why am I saying this? I never meant to say this! What are you doing to me? Stop! This is wrong!”

“You submitted yourself to Judgement and Justice,” Justitia reminded him. “You made that choice of your own free will. Justice can only happen in a place of truth.”

“This isn’t fair! I’m a good person, I’ve done lots of good things! Why are you focused on this one bad one!”

“What good things?”

Scott blinked. “What?”

“Please enumerate the good things you claim to have done.”

Scott floundered. “I work at a vet, helping sick animals!”

“That is a job,” Justitia pointed out. “You get paid.”

Scott looked over at Stiles. “Help me out here, buddy.”

Stiles folded his arms and stared at him. “No. I’m not interested in planting my flag next to someone who turns on his own allies so easily.”

Scott’s mouth dropped open. “What? But you’re my bro! You said you’d always be on my side!”

“That was before I realised just how easily you betray people,” retorted Stiles. “I was willing to put up with you being a bit of a flake, but deliberate treachery? No.”

“I never betrayed you!”

Stiles raised his eyebrows. “Remember the time when you decided that we’d both work together with Derek to stop the kanima? Remember how you intended all along to screw him over, and didn’t let me in on the plan? That was absolutely a betrayal, Scott.”

“You didn’t need to know! That isn’t the same as a betrayal!”

Realisation flooded through Stiles. “You thought I was a sidekick, so it didn’t matter. Everyone knows that sidekicks aren’t important enough to know ‘the plan,’ if there is one. But I never agreed to be your sidekick. I agreed to be your partner.”

Scott’s expression gave away his thoughts even before he opened his mouth. “But you’re just an ordinary human. Of course you’re the sidekick.”

Stiles shook his head. “No. I’m really not. Even if I was, you already agreed to give up your lycanthropy. You’re back to being an asthmatic bench warmer, whereas I scored game-winning points without a supernatural power-up.”

Scott’s brow creased in confusion. “Why are you suddenly talking about lacrosse?”

“Even you can’t be this stupid, testicle!” Jackson broke in. “It’s a metaphor, dumb-ass!”

Scott ignored him. “You’re pissed off at me, so you’re not going to help me?”

“You shouldn’t need my help,” Stiles pointed out. “The avatar is unbiased and has access to more knowledge about all of this than either of us do. I very much doubt that anyone here would be able to influence the Judgements she makes. Our fates were decided the moment we went through with the ritual.”

Scott squared his shoulders. “No, it’s okay. I get it. I’m used to having to do things on my own. I’ll be fine.”

Yesterday, a speech like that might have guilted Stiles into helping him ‘one last time.’ But a lot had happened since the ritual began, and Stiles was over being taken advantage of like that. He didn’t even bother replying, just looked expectantly at Justitia.

Justitia was waiting patiently, looking more like a statue than a person.

Scott reluctantly turned towards her. “Just because I can’t remember what they are right now, doesn’t mean that I haven’t done good things.”

“True,” agreed Justitia. “Scott McCall, prior to this sentence you willingly renounced your lycanthropy. That has no bearing whatsoever on this matter and should not be considered a punishment.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “I know that. I chose it, remember?”

“Scott McCall, you will never again have a supernatural transformation. You will live out your days as the ordinary human you have wished to be. You will father no children, and your natural lifespan has been reduced by five years. The scales of your life have been balanced. Go forth.”

“Lydia Martin, stand before me.”

“I want to know why I wasn’t offered restitution for what Peter did to me,” Lydia said, flicking her hair over her shoulder in a manner that Stiles had seen her use to dismiss many a person hoping to talk with her.

Justitia gazed at her calmly. “Do not presume to question the Judgements of others, Lydia Martin. Did you truly believe that by having Allison Argent instigate this ritual on your behalf, that you would not be bound by the precepts that govern such things?”

“All of the research I’ve done made it clear that the ritual initiator, the one whose blood was offered in the ritual, was the only one bound under limitations,” Lydia replied frostily. “That person was Allison, therefore the penalty is hers.”

“Foolish child,” Justitia said reprovingly. “My fellows and I are dispensers of justice, not law clerks obsessed with fine detail. You were the driving force behind this ritual, and well we know it. That you manoeuvred others into taking actions that they otherwise would not have in order to bring it about does not hide your culpability from our eyes.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lydia said, but the way she threw her shoulders back betrayed her. Stiles had seen her do that before. Lydia knew exactly what the Avatar of Justice was talking about.

“Do you not?” Justitia sounded unimpressed. “Then let me remind you. Two people were employed to do the hard lifting. You chose your instrument for the instigation this ritual because you knew she was able to be easily manipulated, others had already done so and you neither anticipated nor found any difficulty. As for the other, you played upon long held affection and trust still new.”

Lydia lifted her chin defiantly. “You have no proof—”

“We have all the proof required.” Justitia’s stare was unwavering and cold. “You achieved your purpose, the person you wished to undergo Judgement has been well caught in your web. But the truth of all things is available to our sight, and we know who owes the price. That price has already begun to be paid.”

Lydia raised her chin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Do you not? Your second dupe has already become aware of the role you cast him in and as a result that path to friendship has withered. A source of support that might have benefited you for the remainder of your life will be offered to you no more, lost to a moment’s petty revenge. Be careful, daughter of the Emerald Isles, that you do not squander all such sources available lest you find yourself going thirsty in a drought.”

Stiles didn’t need Lydia’s slightly uneasy glance in his direction to recognise himself as the dupe being discussed. Justitia had spoken truly. The fledgling trust between him and a woman he had long admired had been well and truly broken.

“He made his own choices.”

Justitia raised an eyebrow. “You needed him You deliberately fed him untrue information. You worked hard to deceive him, threading enough truth in with your lies that a cursory investigation would show nothing amiss. Then you waited until the timing worked to your advantage and presented him with something that looked like a gift, but was in reality a trap.”

“I didn’t force him to do anything,” repeated Lydia defiantly.

“True,” agreed Justitia, taking some of the wind out of Lydia’s sails. “You also didn’t care that your deception might cause harm to him or those he loved. You cared only for the outcome you worked towards, which included foisting responsibility of the action onto Allison Argent.”

“Lydia is my friend,” said Allison, confused. “Why would she want to hurt me?”

“You really can’t think of any reason she might be angry with any of your actions over the last six months?”

Allison blinked. “You mean the thing with Jackson? But they weren’t together anymore. And when we talked about it, she said that she didn’t blame me.”

Jackson groaned. “You told her? Everything? Why would you do that? It was none of her business!”

“I needed someone to talk to!” said Allison, twisting her hands together. “I needed help.”

“She needed me to find someone willing to give her the abortion she wanted,” finished Lydia, watching Jackson hungrily.

Jackson flinched. “Abortion? You mean, you… And you just went ahead and… You didn’t even tell me!”

“It was none of your business!” Allison fired back. “You’d already done quite enough, thank you very much!” She sniffed. “That was months ago, anyway. Before…”

Stiles was finally putting all the pieces of the puzzle together. The picture it showed had him feeling incredibly stupid and gullible. Wow, Lydia hadn’t even had to try all that hard to get him to go along with her. Was he really that eager for her approval?

“Don’t act like I made you do anything you didn’t want to do,” snarled Jackson, starting to get angry. “You were the one who came onto me. I asked you if you were sure, you said yes! That you wanted your first time to be with someone who knew what he was doing!”

“What?” Scott stared at Allison. “You mean you slept with Jackson? How could you do that to me?”

Allison whirled on him. “It had nothing to do with you! That was the whole point! It still has nothing to do with you.”

Stiles privately thought that the whole thing was probably about Scott, but since he agreed with Allison’s statement that it wasn’t Scott’s business—given that they were broken up at the time—he didn’t say anything.

“How could you not tell me?” asked Scott, looking like a kicked puppy. “I love you; I would have forgiven you.”

“I didn’t need your forgiveness!” Allison’s fury was now fully on Scott. “I don’t want it, either! You don’t own me, Scott! I can do what I like with my body; I don’t owe you, or anyone else, any explanations for it! Besides, you’d already been kissing Lydia.”

“I didn’t mean to, it just happened!”

Allison rolled her eyes. “Oh, you just slipped, and your tongue fell into her mouth?”

Stiles glanced back at Jackson. He was already starting to calm down, listening intently to whatever Derek was whispering in his ear, leaning into Derek’s hand on his shoulder. The rest of the beta’s had crowded closer too. It all looked rather cosy.

Lydia, on the other hand, was as angry as Stiles had ever seen her. “Is that all?” she snapped at Jackson. “Don’t you even care that she killed your child without even telling you?”

Jackson’s expression hardened as he looked at her. “Of course I do. You knew I would. But I believe in a woman’s right to choose, so my feelings don’t really matter, do they? Something else I care about is why you would want to hurt me like this. It wasn’t all that long ago you were telling me that you’d always love me, but this isn’t love.”

Lydia sneered at him. “Like you know anything about love! For your information, when I told you that I meant it. That was before I knew that you didn’t even wait a week till you were fucking someone else! Not just someone else, but my best friend!”

Stiles was starting to wonder if his lack of a love life was a good thing. Did having sex make everyone this stupid and irrational? Was Scott’s recent idiocy because of the werewolf thing, or the love thing? Maybe a combination of the two?

Scott was still trying to placate Allison, assuring her that of course he had no right to be upset, he was just surprised. Allison seemed to be relenting, although personally Stiles wondered how truthful Scott was being. They already knew he’d become a practiced liar.

Justitia was watching, expression serene.

This wasn’t getting them anywhere. Stiles just wanted the whole thing to be over and done with. “Hey!” he yelled, silencing everyone who was still talking. “Can we just get on with this? You can all have your couple dramas later.” He was surprised when it worked.

Scott and Allison still stood together, although some of their anger was still visible in how much space there was between them. Lydia had turned her back to Jackson completely, although Jackson didn’t seem terribly cut up about it.

When they were all paying attention to her again, Justitia resumed her task. “Lydia Martin, do you recognise the responsibility you hold for the events of this evening, for the difficulties now facing those who joined with you in this ritual?

“Wait,” Allison interrupted, “you admit she tricked me into this, and you still punished me? How is that fair?”

“Judgement is not about what is done to you, but about what you choose to do to others,” Justitia reiterated. “For your Judgement, we were less interested in how you were tricked and more concerned with your intentions to trick the Hale Pack into placing their power behind a ritual that you planned to use to harm them. Again.”

“You mean you’re just going to get her get away with it?” demanded Allison, ignoring the second part of Justitia’s reply.

“The Judgment of Lydia Martin is not your concern.” Justitia’s gaze returned to Lydia. “What say you, Lydia Martin? Do you accept responsibility?”

Lydia had used the time to gather her wits. “I didn’t force anyone to do anything, and I took no part in the ritual itself. You’re not going to trick me into incriminating myself.”

“The die is cast,” said Justitia with some finality. ““Lydia Martin, without concern for the repercussions to those around you—those whose aid you enlisted to fulfil your goals—you engineered this ritual hoping to see those who had angered you brought low. Your lack of real concern for anyone but yourself, your lack of remorse and refusal to accept responsibility for instigating a ritual which you knew would have an adverse effect on many lives, is reflected in your sentence.”

“You have no right—” began Lydia.

Justitia ignored her. “The feature that you take most pride in, that you value above others, is the quickness of your mind. From this day forth, you will have an average mental aptitude. Your ability both to problem solve and to retain and access information will be limited.”

Stiles winced. He had to hand it to whatever powers Justitia belonged to, they knew how to make something hurt. Lydia might have spent years pretending to be a vapid airhead, but to go from the recall that allowed her to translate Archaic Latin with confidence to an ordinary student with ordinary capabilities…that was going to hurt. A lot.

“This reduction in your mental capacity will also cause a dulling of the gifts that were so recently awoken within you,” continued Justitia. “Whether you look upon this as a blessing or a curse is entirely up to you. Your Judgement is complete. Go forth.”

Stiles made a mental note to investigate what Justitia was talking about, but didn’t have time to give it further thought as it was now his turn.

Justitia finally faced Stiles. “Mieczyslaw Stilinski, stand before me.”

Time to pay the piper. Stiles stepped forward, prepared to take what was coming to him.

“Mortal laws are inconsequential to us. We care not that mortal laws have been broken for the law’s sake, we care only about harm deliberately done to others,” said Justitia. “Mieczyslaw Stilinski, you used confidential knowledge you illicitly gained by virtue of your father’s occupation to blackmail an associate into breaking the law for you, something that, if he had been discovered, would have resulted in a prison term. He knew that. You knew that. You proceeded regardless.”

Stiles swallowed. What he’d done to Danny was bad, he knew that. But the information Danny got for him had been important, he’d needed to find out who the Alpha was. And Danny did start out saying no. It wasn’t until Derek had taken his shirt off that Danny had capitulated; since finding out about what Kate had done to Derek, that had been the focus of Stiles’ regret. Not that arguing the point would likely work in his favour. It certainly hadn’t for anyone else.

Maybe, rather than justifying his actions to himself, he needed to think of it from Danny’s point of view. That seemed to be Justitia’s approach with the other Judgements.

Almost immediately, he understood why she’d brought it up. Until Stiles had approached him, Danny had believed that the files of his youthful misdemeanours had been sealed, that—unless he crossed the line into crime—they would remain that way. Then, Stiles openly admitted to knowing Danny’s secret and indicated that that was reason enough for Danny to go along with his law-breaking plans. Plans that could have had Danny imprisoned if they’d been discovered.

If Stiles’d had someone like himself around, someone who knew something secret and potentially damaging about him and who’d shown no compunction in using that knowledge for their own gain, he would be in a continuous state of stress. Shit. Stiles owed Danny an apology. More than that, he owed him a promise to never use that information ever again, for anything.

Stiles sighed. “I was wrong,” he admitted aloud. “I did harm to both Derek and Danny that day. I excused it to myself under the guise of necessity, but that would be wrong too. Danny had nothing to do with the whole thing. I should have either left him out of it, or explained why I wanted the info so he could choose whether he wanted to help me or not.”

Justitia inclined her head. “When Scott McCall accused Derek of a series murders that you both knew he hadn’t committed, you allowed the lie to stand.”

Stiles hung his head. “I know.”

That hadn’t been his best decision. True, at the time he’d thought that Derek was dead—that it wouldn’t matter to him one way or another—but in retrospect the lie had been stupid as well as wrong.

He’d never properly apologised to Derek for that. For making him into a fugitive. It was a wonder Derek even talked to him, let alone let Stiles convince him to put his entire pack in danger for a half-baked plan to restore peace in Beacon Hills.

He didn’t have anything to say in his own defence. How could he? His actions were indefensible.

Justitia let the moment drag out. “Stiles Stilinski, your sentence is to make reparations to Daniel Mahealani, Derek Hale, and Noah Stilinski. You will admit your wrongdoing in full, and accept their reactions and wishes in the aftermath. If this is done before the next full moon, we will consider your scales balanced and no further action will be taken.”

Stiles nodded. That sounded fair enough. “I will do as you said. Although…just because I’m curious…what would be my sentence if I refused?”

“You would forfeit two years of your natural life.”

Stiles winced. “Yeah, thought it might be something like that. I’ll get onto it tomorrow.”

Scott finally erupted. “It’s not fair! Why is he getting off with a slap on the wrist?”

“We don’t only look for wrongful actions, we search those under Judgement for recognition and acceptance of wrongdoing. Those that show understanding and remorse for harmful actions taken have often taken steps to balance their own scales before Judgement has even been called.”

Stiles wasn’t going to openly call bullshit, but that sounded like a load of hooey.

The Avatar met his gaze and raised her eyebrows. “You disagree? You cannot recall moments where, feeling guilty at the lies you told your father, you tried your best to make his life easier in other ways? To make him proud of you for other things?”

“I get it,” said Stiles, hoping to shut her up before she embarrassed him anymore. This whole Judgement thing had been a nightmare from start to finish. At least it hadn’t been as bad as he’d feared. Talking to Derek and his father wasn’t going to be a problem, but last he’d heard Danny had gone on a family trip to Hawaii. Stiles would need to find out from Jackson when he planned to return.

Justitia turned for a final time. “Derek Hale, stand before me.”

Derek stepped forward, shoulders squared, chin raised. In his leather jacket and tight jeans, and with his carefully mussed hair and designer stubble, he looked like the epitome of a man who refused to move on from his rebellious teens.

Also? Hot like burning. But Derek would look hot in anything.

“Derek Hale, we have left the balancing of your scales for last. Your situation is complex, unusual for this type of situation. You have done harm, yet the good you have done greatly outweighs this.”

Derek shook his head. “I was responsible for the murder of my family. There’s nothing that can make up for that, nothing that can be weighed against it.”

“Derek Hale, you have shouldered the burden of guilt for many deaths,” said Justitia. “In truth, not a single wrongful death can be laid at your door. The first you claim was the loss of Paige Krasikeva.” Derek lowered his gaze. “While you technically ended her life, you only hastened that which was already inevitable. You gave mercy to one in agony, at her request. No. The responsibility for her death lies with one who has already passed through the Halls of Judgement.”

“She wouldn’t have even been in that position if it weren’t for me,” argued Derek.

“You have re-written the events surrounding her death in your mind so as to align with the blame you have assigned yourself,” said Justitia. “We see the truth, and we say that you bear no responsibility. Neither are you responsible for the deaths of any of your family.”

“I told her our secrets!”

Justitia remained impassive. “Not only were you a fifteen-year-old boy being manipulated by a woman ten years your senior, you were being drugged with white wolfsbane, which acts upon werewolves who’ve not finished puberty, making them highly suggestible.”

Derek shook his head, but didn’t argue further. He’d shrunk back slightly, looking less like a confident alpha werewolf and more like a man waiting to be condemned.

Stiles briefly imagined digging up Kate Argent, resurrecting her, then killing her again slowly; making her feel a tiny bit of the pain she’d inflicted upon others. Not that he would ever do it; torture wasn’t really his thing and he knew better than to tempt fate by resurrecting someone who was much better off dead.

“Unlike most who stand before us, you constantly second guess your choices, finding reasons to blame yourself for any and all failures. There is no point for us to reveal your errors to you, you are already all too aware of them.”

Derek didn’t move.

Justitia continued. “The good you have tried to do, again and again, has tilted the scales in a manner we seldom see.”

Lydia snorted. “Oh, come on. You can’t really be trying to tell us that Derek is a saint, or anything. There must be hundreds of thousands of people who do good. What about missionaries, volunteers who give all their time and money to charitable works?”

“We do not contest the existence of people who’ve lived their lives with their scales tilted towards good,” replied Justitia. “Merely that they don’t often find themselves involved in a summoning of this nature.” She stared at Derek, her eerie golden eyes shining in the dim light. “Giving rewards is a much tougher proceeding than assigning sentences. For if a reward is unwelcome, then it becomes a sentence. Is there anything you wish for, Derek Hale? You may not ask for the reversal of anything which has already happened. Nothing has the ability to rewrite time.”

Derek shrugged. “If I can’t have my family back, then all I want is for my pack to prosper. For us to be safe in our territory.”

“We cannot directly affect the future any more than we can alter the past,” said Justitia. “However, there are things we could offer you in aid of your expressed wish. The Alpha spark that you carry is damaged, having been handed down in peace for many generations, twice now it has been torn away by force. It is angered and fearful and, in its damaged state, highlights those aspects of its host. We can calm and heal it, allow you to experience its benefits fully.

“There is also the matter of the injured nemeton in your territory. A whole and uncorrupted nemeton is a beneficial resource, but a damaged and corrupted one becomes a source for discontent. It also attracts harmful elements, in particular ones that wish to use what power remains available to its own ends. We can heal and restore the Beacon Hills Nemeton, if you wish us to.”

Peter cleared his throat. “I thought that the nemeton had reached the end of its life,” he said. “Talia told me that it needed to be cut down before it rotted, that it was the only way to ensure the long-term health of the territory.”

“She was wrong,” said Justitia. “A darach gave her false information, and has since been harvesting the haemorrhaging energy. Before its physical aspect was cut down, the Beacon Hills Nemeton’s strength was being taxed by the burden of containing an improperly stored chaos aspect. That being lies beyond the boundaries of what we can offer—it has no connection to your pack beyond proximity—but if the Beacon Hills Nemeton were healed then it would once more be able to restrict the being’s influence over the territory.”

“A chaos aspect,” repeated Peter. “Do you mean like a dragon, or a hydra?”

“A nogitsune.”

“They’re not native to this area,” said Peter, frowning. “But then neither are werewolves, I suppose.” He raised his eyebrows at Derek. “We’ll need to find someone who can take care of it for us. Not Deaton.”

Derek nodded slowly.

“Why not Deaton?” objected Scott. “He knows more about all of this stuff than anyone else. He would be the perfect person to ask.”

“Deaton was Talia’s magical advisor,” retorted Peter. “It was likely his advice she was taking when she had the nemeton cut down. His fire wards also mysteriously failed on the night that our house was set on fire. That, added to his recent actions where he conspired against the alpha of the territory….well. Once is chance, twice is coincidence, and three times is enemy action.”

“Deaton is not the enemy!” said Scott hotly.

“He might not be your enemy,” replied Peter condescendingly. “He’s very definitely an enemy of the Hale pack.” He looked back at Derek who was watching the exchange thoughtfully. “You should officially excise him from the territory, just in case.”

“I agree,” said Derek. He turned to Justitia. “I would be grateful if you would heal and restore the nemeton. Once the territory is stable and the chaos aspect has been taken care of, I’ll reach out to some of my families’ old allies and ask for assistance calming the alpha spark.” His gaze dropped to the ground. “I wasn’t aware that it was damaged. I thought that this was the way it always was.”

Justitia’s usual stern expression softened briefly. “We know you are not inclined to hear praise, but we speak only the truth; you have done well with what you were given.” Her face smoothed back out to its impassive blankness. “We have heard your request, and it has been granted.”

Derek tilted his head to one side and tipped his upper body forward slightly in a sort of bow. “Thank you.”

Justitia nodded back. “Judgements have been passed. Allison Argent, as the one whose request for Judgement was heard, it is your blood that has borne the consequences of your choice. To the seventh remove, those who bear your blood have had their scales balanced. One hundred and seventeen individuals have received notification of their sentence and the circumstances surrounding it.

“This matter is closed. There is no appeal. The ritual is complete.”

The air around Justitia shimmered, and she was gone.

Stiles looked around. Allison had fresh tears streaming down her face, and Scott was once again wrapped up in trying to comfort her. Lydia stood alone, glaring at the spot Justitia had recently inhabited. Derek and his pack had clustered together. They’d never looked more unified, more like what Stiles had always imagined a pack to be.

Remembering his sentence, Stiles squared his shoulders and walked towards Derek. There was no time like the present, after all. The sooner his restitution was done, the sooner he could get to work on figuring out just what kind of ‘not ordinary human’ he happened to be.