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~*~

~*~

Flames.

He can feel their heat, the way they cause his skin to blister and melt off his flesh.

The pain is excruciating and he screams.

He isn’t alone, there are other screams all around him.

He can see hands clawing at windows, fire licking on their skin as well, eating away at their bodies.

He can smell it too, burning hair and flesh, boiling blood and then, as the first of them die and the flames fully consume them the horrible stink of burning bones.

He can also feel the ugly tasting smoke burning the insides of his throat and lungs.

He sees a woman, her hair and clothes have already been mostly eaten away, half her face unrecognizable, break a wailing child’s neck and he understands, wishes someone would end his suffering too.

But she won’t be the one to do it, she is collapsing on the ground as well, the fire taking her over.

All that is left is him, his suffering and the noise of the walls collapsing above.

He wants to scream again but all that comes out of his burned throat is the noise of a dying animal.

Then, finally things go dark.

Who knew death could feel so welcoming.

When he woke up he was already able to smell where he was.
The hospital.
The stench of this building would never leave his memory.
His eyes felt heavy but he had to open them to see how bad his injuries might be.
How he even survived he had no idea and why his body wasn’t in horrible pain he didn’t know either - maybe he was on heavy pain medication?
Wouldn’t that make it more difficult to think clearly?
Was he thinking clearly?
He really had to open his eyes.
It felt like a titanic task but he managed to pry them open slowly.
Everything was a bleary mess, he blinked lazily at first and then with more purpose to get a clearer picture.
“Stiles?” a soft voice asked hopeful - his father.
Stiles turned his head to the voice and could make out his father’s figure, sitting next to him at the side of the bed.
“Da-” he croaked and realized his voice was sore - not as sore as it should be after being rescued from a burning building, but sore.
He tried to sit up a little and realized his arms had some bruises but nothing that would compare to the injuries of a burn victim.
“I am so glad you are back Stiles.”
It broke his heart to hear his father speak like that. He didn’t sound annoyed or frustrated, he sounded like he thought it was a miracle, like he had spent all this time wondering if he might lose his son as well.
Stiles can’t blame him, not when it’s slowly dawning on him what probably happened.
“I...I had another...episode, right?”
His eyes were clear by now and he was able to examine the defeated, concerned expression on his father’s face in all detail.
“Yes...it was...it was the worst you ever had.”
Hearing the quiver in his father’s voice was almost too much.
He had to agree, nothing he had experienced so far had been as awful as the sensation of burning alive. He only knew what it had been like for him though, he was afraid to ask what it looked like from the outside, what his father had had to go through. How bad had it had to have been for Stiles to end up in the hospital?
“What happened?” he whispered although the volume of his voice made no difference in what his father would have to tell him.
The man, usually tall and able to project authority and competence, looked entirely lost as he took hold of Stiles’ hand with both his hands.
Stiles could feel them tremble a little.
“You…” his father swallowed hard “You were already screaming when I came home last night. You were lying on the kitchen floor, rolling around and screaming ‘it burns’ and ‘help me’...”
Stiles had to swallow as well, he could only imagine how scary that must have been.
“I tried to pull you out of your...episode, do something, but you did not register me at all and when I tried to hold you to keep you from possibly hurting yourself you kept on moving, sometimes slamming your limbs against things and screaming. I called an ambulance. I know you hate hospitals, but this wasn’t something I could have handled on my own. Especially when-”
He was able to see his father’s hesitation to continue and he didn’t like what that implied, but he needed to know the entire story.
“It’s okay Dad, I can handle it.”
There was something vulnerable and scared in his father’s expression as he continued. “You begged me..or...or someone at least...to kill you, to end your suffering. Stiles I know things have been tough with your mother and I haven’t been there for you as much as I should and...I know I fucked up when I...when I got bad...but I-”
His father was shaking his head and Stiles understood.
He didn’t know what to say to help his dad feel better but he understood.
So instead he squeezed his father’s hands back.
“I’m sorry Dad.”
His father shook his head and looked at their hands. “Don’t be son, it’s not like you have any influence in this.”
Stiles knew that, but it didn’t stop him from feeling guilty. Partly because of what he had put his father through so far and partly for what he knew he had to ask him.
The episode - in his own mind Stiles thought of them more as visions, but he wasn’t stupid enough to say that out loud - sometimes had a real life counterpart. So far it had been mainly bening things like the neighbors cat being run over, Scott and Melissa paying them a surprise visit on a sunday afternoon, him getting a good grade in chemistry, a glass slipping out of his father’s hand and shattering on the floor.
Every time his father had described Stiles as turning stiff or collapsing, eyes glassy, staring into nothing while mumbling to himself.
He had had some visions he couldn’t confirm to have happened, but he still started getting the terrible feeling by now this might be a lot more than hallucinations or very vivid daydreaming.
And that was why he had to ask, had to say something.
Even though he knew his father might be even more concerned when he did.
“Dad…” he croaked and cleared his throat.
His father looked up, his face still painfully worried.
“Have you heard anything about a fire? It would have been big enough for firefighters and police to be called.”
There it was, that wrinkle of concern deepend and he hated himself for it.
“No, everything has been quiet, I took time off from work so I wouldn’t have to leave you here, but Parrish or someone else would have called me about something like that.”
Stiles just nodded and hoped that meant he was wrong about his suspicion.
Before his father was able to ask him why he wanted to know that and they could end up in a tense discussion neither of them wanted Stiles changed the topic with a slightly forced smile. “So, when do you think I can get out of here?”
With a deep sigh and a glance that told Stiles his father knew exactly what he was trying to do the man stood up. “I’ll ask. But we have to find out how to deal with this in the future...maybe you should talk to someone professional…”
Stiles nodded again, what else could he do, and who knew, maybe a shrink would be able to help him with some of the things happening.
~*~
The next night Stiles woke up sweating all over, the vision he had had moments ago still as real in his head as if he had just witnessed everything himself.
This time he hadn’t been in the building that was burning but standing outside.
He had seen the windows of the basement from which the people had tried to escaped, had tried to move, to help them, but he couldn’t. All he could do was witness, the suffering, the dying and a hand full of people walking around the house, feeding the flames, yelling crude things, calling their victims ‘dogs’, ‘ugly monsters’ and ‘evil beasts’.
His heart was heavy with the memories of it.
But he also knew more about the circumstances of the situation now.
Should he tell his father what he knew? It wasn’t like he had anything more concrete, only that the fire was intentionally started, viciously so, and it was a fairly big house in some kind of woods.
No, he couldn’t even be sure this really was anything more than his imagination, no matter how real it felt.
Of course he had already researched for similar experiences, but it wasn’t like you could fully trust simple experience reports on the internet, and he hadn’t been able to find much more so far.
Some ominous mentions of psychic abilities, clairvoyance, but nothing he could trust.
What he could and should do though was write down everything he had seen. Maybe he should start a journal about his visions in general, that’d make it easier for him to compare vision and reality - see how accurate it was.
And maybe, if he was fast enough in figuring things out he might be able to save all those people.
~*~
The next day in school Stiles more stumbled than walked from class to class.
He only looked up when Lydia and Scott each wrapped an arm around him.
“Hi guys…” he mumbled and smiled weakly, both of them seemed a bit concerned.
“Are you okay Pinky? Did you pull an all nighter again?” Lydia asked.
He grinned at the nickname “Something like that Brain...where are the idiots?”
She grinned as well “They got stuck talking to Finstock” and Scott poked Stiles a bit painfully.
“Don’t be mean to them Stiles.”
Stiles chuckled and ruffled Scott’s hair. “If I remember correctly he used to push you into the dirt, you are so forgiving.”
Scott huffed and tried to flatten his hair a bit - it was hopeless though. “That was ages ago...and I really don’t understand why you two act like you hate each other, everyone knows you are friends.”
Lydia smirked and patted Scott’s head as well. “Don’t strain your brain too much Scotty, it’s just how they show each other their love.”
Glaring at both of them Scott groaned “You are all so mean, I don’t even know why I like you..”
Lydia and Stiles shared a glance but didn’t say what they thought and instead cuddled Scott with only mildly condescending cooing noises.
“Poor, innocent angel” Stiles purred “Everyone is so so mean to him...the world is cruel.” Lydia mocked.
“I hate you guys…”
“Sure you do.” they said in unison.
They walked to class together and Stiles mused over his friendships some more.
He had always attributed his sense of other people as some subconscious talent to read people and figure them out, but maybe it was more than that...maybe he really was psychic.
When he first met Lydia he had been so struck by her magnificence, he could easily have hopelessly fallen in love with her, but something - maybe something extra sensory - had told him they would be more magnificent together if he befriended her and didn’t try to turn her into a romantic interest. He had been very right, having her as a friend had helped him so much on so many levels.
And Jackson...from the day they had first gotten into a fight over Jackson pushing Scott, Stiles had known all Jackson really wanted was being loved and acknowledged in his achievements. Of course, as a kid he had not really understood what exactly Jackson needed or even why, but he had known Jackson was hurting and didn’t know how to ask for someone to take his hand.
It had taken longer than with Lydia, but over time she, Stiles and Danny had found ways to help Jackson, give him what he needed, help him overcome that misplaced need for attention, channel its energy in more constructive paths than bullying.
Scott had taken a while to come around to the friendships Stiles was building, but with nobody else to hang out with he had little choice, where Stiles went he went, and eventually they had become a harmonious group.
Later Isaac had caught Stiles’ attention.
Back then he hadn’t understood his suspicion but in hindsight that might just have been more subconscious psychic abilities. After starting to look for evidence it hadn’t been difficult to get Isaac away from his abusive father.
To Stiles surprise and joy Scott and Melissa had taken Isaac in and helped him find a good therapist.
The more he thought about it the more he felt like all these things could hardly be coincidence, a few maybe, but all of them? Considering how little he knew about how being a psychic might work it could easily be the case that his abilities had been subconscious during childhood and were now - in puberty - developing fully…
But he was just speculating, pretty wildly too.
It was concerning enough how factual he already thought of the idea of being a psychic. But it was hard not to when the lives of almost a dozen people might depend on whether or not he risked a little madness in favor of trying to save them.
~*~
Later Stiles and some of his friends walked side by side to find an empty table outside for lunch when he was hit in the head with something.
He turned around to see Jackson had thrown his shoe at him.
“Don’t ignore me asshole!” was all Jackson shouted as an explanation.
Had Stiles been that deep in thought?
After a short glare he picked the shoe up and considered what to do before grinning wickedly and throwing it into the bushes.
A moment he saw Jackson just looking gobsmacked, then his face turned angry. “What the fuck Stiles?!” He came closer, looking ridiculous with only one shoe.
Stiles shrugged while he could hear Lydia and Isaac giggle a bit.
Danny and Scott purposefully ignored their banter and kept looking for a table.
“Next time throw something that you don’t need as much as a shoe idiot.”
Jackson pointed his finger at Stiles as he walked to the shrubbery. “I’m going to fucking paint your face the next time you fall asleep on a movie night, just so you know!”
“Not if you fall asleep first Jack Jack.”
Jackson glared and fully disappeared in the bushes to then reemerge soon after with his second shoe.
They had found a table and Jackson squeezed himself between Lydia and Isaac. “Now, overlooking the fact you are as unbelievable and annoying as always, you kinda look like shit man, what’s going on?”
Stiles could see some of the others nodding and looking at him curiously. He thought they had brushed that topic aside when he had confirmed he had been up all night. Apparently not.
Of course his friends knew of the visions, they had happened in their presence a few times, though luckily nothing too extreme so far.
Under the weight of their eyes he sagged a litte and sighed before telling them the gist of what was on his mind.
“I had an episode over the weekend, it was a lot worse than any other before...Dad called an ambulance and they gave me something to tranquilize me because I was lashing out uncontrolled while not being responsive at all…” He felt his own voice shake as he had to tell the situation like that.
Was this going to be his life? No matter if this was some form of mental illness or psychic visions, they apparently were able to turn violent and destructive.
He had focused so much on finding out what his visions might be about he had pushed all the fear and concern he had for himself to the back of his mind and buried it there.
Now, in the presence of his friends who would probably care very little if this was supernatural or not and more if it would hurt him long term or not he wasn’t able to ignore how scary all of it was any longer.
The shaking got stronger and he felt his friends hugging him from all sides, Lydia at his back, Jackson and Scott at his sides, Isaac and Danny somewhere in between them.
“It’s ok buddy” Scott mumbled and Stiles couldn’t resist a slightly hysterical, dry laugh at that.
“It really isn’t, but thank you…”
Jackson squeezed him tighter. “We are going to be here for you Stiles. You might be an asshole and an idiot but that’s exactly how I like you.”
“We all do” Lydia added and there was a mumble of agreement.
Stiles sniffed a little and tried to keep tears from welling up. “Thank you guys…”Letting out a shaky breath he laughed again, still a bit on edge but calming down. “Ok...off, I love all of you but there are enough rumors about our relationships to each other as it is, let’s not give them more to gossip about.”
Lydia giggled and sideeyed Scott and Isaac while loosening her hold on Stiles. “I recently heard you two were in a semi incestious relationship.”
Isaac rolled his eyes and Scott turned deeply red. “Well that’s obviously stupid…” the teenager stuttered and Isaac nudged him in the side with his elbow.
“Calm down dumbo, she’s messing with you.”
“I KNOW THAT!” Scott exclaimed and blushed even further.
Danny smirked and wiggled his eyebrows at Stiles. “I was asked by a teammate if I really deflowered both you and Jack Jack.”
Jackson stared at Danny in mock offense “E tu, Brute? Can we please go back to calling me by my actual name?”
With an adorably dimpled smile Danny shook his head. “I like it.”
Stiles meanwhile had rolled his eyes and started eating. “We are fucking fourteen, I wished all those hormonal teenagers would stop thinking about sex 24/7.”
Isaac snorted “Says you, a hormonal teenager.”
Stiles chewed one of his cold, floppy fries before answering “Yeah, but I am either a late bloomer or on the ace spectrum, because I am definitely not thinking about sex a lot.”
Danny directed his glorious smiley face at him with an expression of genuine curiosity. “What does your mind rest on then?”
Stiles shrugged “Superheroes mostly…”
~*~
Superheroes were not the thing on his mind though when he dreamed about the fire again the next night.
Most was the same as before, only he heard one of the arsonists say a name he was familiar with.
Hale.
When he woke up this time he wasn’t screaming, he wasn’t even overwhelmed, instead he was flooded with adrenaline and the need to act.
He knew it might be difficult to convince anybody he was telling the truth, he didn’t even know if he was right about this not just being a dream or night terror, but it was just too big not to at least consider it.
The logical person to alert would be his father.
Who was at the police station at the moment.
What could he do? Fuck it, maybe he’d be stuck in some madhouse for this, but he had to do something, he had to warn the Hale family, and he could use someone who would confirm at least part of his story, so he needed his father to come with him.
It wasn’t what he wanted to do, but he would have to force his father’s hand.
Already in his mother’s jeep he called his dad on the phone.
“Stiles?” his dad sounded worried. “Did you have-”
“No time for questions Dad. I know whose house I saw burning in my vision and I have to warn them."
“Wha-...Vision? You mean an episode? Stiles, son, calm down, nobody’s house is gonna burn down just because you dr-”
He didn’t have time for this, so he started the engine, knowing his father would be able to hear that.
“Stiles?! Are you in a car?”
“Don’t worry Dad, I know how to drive Mom’s jeep.”
“Stiles! You are fourteen, I swear to god, if you drive somewhere in that death trap you will be grounded until you are old enough to legally drive on your own.”
He snorted and pulled out of the parking spot. “If you want to stop me you’ll have to follow me to the Hale house.”
Then he hung up, knowing this would get his father there the quickest.
He did in fact know how to drive his mother’s jeep, she had explained everything he asked about even though he had been barely more than a toddler back then. He had listened, her words were burned into his mind, he couldn’t forget how to drive this car even if he wanted to.
He had said nothing about driving it well though, as quite a few other drivers this evening would be able to attest to.
He was at the start of the road into the preserve that lead up to the Hale’s house when he heard sirens and it took only a moment longer for his father’s blue lights to appear.
Stiles continued the drive, he had to get there, had to force his father to let him explain the situation to the Hales.
Only when he got close enough he could see the light of the flames and feel his heart sinking as he came closer and closer.
He slammed on the gas to hurry up the last bit of road but subconsciously he already knew the truth, he was too late.
He parked the car and stumbled out, his father right behind him, tense and irritated but already talking to the police station, ordering firefighters to the house.
Stiles fell to his knees, he was too late.
He could still see the window of the basement he had had his first vision in, there were no hands grasping for freedom anymore but he was sure they’d find several burned corpses in that room.
He wanted to scream and cry.
But then he saw something in the flames, it looked like something had moved, something that was alive.
With a shudder he stood up and glanced at his father who was busy commanding his troops to come as quickly as possible.
With only a moment's hesitation Stiles sprinted off, hearing his father scream in disbelief and terror at his son’s action.
The inside of the house was incredibly hot, as hot as it had felt in his vision.
That actually helped him withstand the pain though, he already knew what it was like to burn alive, what it felt like. A few flames licking his elbows and legs or eating away at his clothes and hair wasn’t going to stop him from saving at least one person.
He found him, crawling towards the door, burning almost everywhere but not giving up.
He might actually have made it without Stiles but in this universe he didn’t have to.
He grabbed the guy under his arms and pulled.
The man was heavier than he looked and barely responsive but weakly helped Stiles to carry him out.
When Stiles crossed the door’s threshold a beam behind them collapsed, it almost felt like it had just waited for Stiles to pass underneath it.
And considering the way Stiles’ world was changing right now he felt not beyond believing that might be what happened.
Breathing fresh air was great, as was his father putting a blanket over him and putting out the few flames still licking along his clothes.
Paramedics were already taking care of the man Stiles had pulled out, Stiles hadn’t even heard them arriving, but he had been occupied.
His father was saying something, probably scolding him but Stiles couldn’t understand a word, his mind was just numb.
The last thing he was really aware of was the burned man’s not injured eye closing and the paramedics going crazy about trying to save him.
~*~
It had taken a few weeks for Stiles and probably a few months for his father to get used to the fact Stiles ‘episodes’ actually were visions and the things he saw came true. Stiles also had to deal with some physical and emotional trauma from that night. It was nothing, of course, compared to the now comatose Peter Hale Stiles had dragged out of the house, but it still hurt and took quite a while to heal fully. He’d always have some scars from the burn wounds on his arms, but it was nothing major and they would fade enough to be barely visible and not palpable at all.
Understanding what his visions were about did help him learn how to deal with them and to an extent control them as well. He found out he could control his outside reactions by not acting on what he saw. He couldn’t change the fact he was staring blankly when he had the visions but he could keep from flailing or screaming. Some mumbling happened on occasion but that was it.
He also learned that there were different things that could trigger his visions. First time physical contact with a person, traumatic experiences, seeing or otherwise sensing things that connected to a vision and falling asleep after sunrise.
It wasn’t guaranteed he’d have visions then but it was a lot more likely.
He also started to be more comfortable acting on those visions.
So when he had one in class and saw Erica, dressed exactly as she was dressed that day, having a seizure while others in the class filmed her he didn't hesitate but stood up, left his class, found hers and pulled her out and took her to the school nurse only moments before the seizure begun.
He knew it created questions but he didn’t care. He had been the weird class clown before this and he knew people were used to brushing strange things off.
The only people he told were his friends. He didn’t tell all of them at once but instead just explained it when he had a vision about something that would prove his point to them. And they seemed okay, if anything they took it better than his dad.
By the time he graduated he had made more friends actually. He had started inviting Erica to their activities and she had found her place. Boyd had been someone Stiles had seen a clear vision about.
The guy had been a loner and apparently had tried to get rid of some aggression by participating in underground boxing.
Stiles had seen him die from internal bleeding and decided to stop that from happening if he could. Lydia had befriended a new girl called Allison when they had been 16 and she had found her place as well.
Stiles had saved Kira, another new girl, from falling down the stairs a year later.
At graduation all of them were like a family.
Well maybe some of them didn’t feel related so much as connected but Stiles did not mind. Erica and Boyd, Lydia and Allison and Scott and Kira were cute couples. And after Jackson had finally come out Danny and he were on the best way to finding Jackson a boyfriend at least as annoying as Jackson was himself.
They all had plans, very different plans in some cases, but they would stay in touch.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

A little over two years after graduation Stiles was the moderately proud owner of a small shop for magic supplies.
He had started learning magic while he had still been in high school. And although his father would probably have prefered he get some sort of official education Stiles had pursued that interest further. And it had served him well.
He wasn’t rich by any stretch but selling his magic services had earned him enough to open this shop.
Stiles knew by now Beacon Hills had several ley lines crossing through, it was very literally a beacon for the supernatural - though for some reason no one could find the exact spot where the lines crossed. It had to be hidden by some powerful source.
Stiles didn’t mind, the ley lines attracted quite a lot of magic users and that meant his shop was doing pretty well.
Business was good and his shop also gave him the ideal position to monitor who was settling down in his hometown and if they might intend to start trouble.
Of course, being psychic helped as well.
He was bringing his samples of flax-haired maiden locks in order after a customer had requested to see every shade for his old fashioned youth serum when he felt his body tense under a coming vision and braced himself.
First there was just emotions.

Pain, rage, madness.

A feeling like there was a creature inside him clawing at the walls of his soul, trying to force its way out.

Then a man, Stiles knew him, he had seen pictures of him after the fire - Peter Hale, the man Stiles saved.

He wasn’t burned anymore though, his face was flawless, except for the visible pain he was in. His hand was holding onto the throat of a woman Stiles also recognized.

He didn’t know her name, but he’d never forget her face.

The one leading the group that had burned down the Hale House.

The one most responsible for all those deaths.

He saw how Peter Hale tore her throat out with his fingers - claws?

Maybe once he would have felt some sort of horror seeing this, but as it was, all he felt was justice. He could also feel the satisfaction Peter felt when inhaling the scent of fresh warm blood and then hearing that woman’s last heartbeat.

It wasn’t a bad sensation.

Until he heard Peter speak to someone named Allison.

He turned to see if his vision would reveal the person he was talking to.

It did.

Stiles felt his own emotions as a chill ran down his spine.

The Allison Peter was talking to was his friend Allison.

She looked to be in pain as well, terrified, she was crying.
After her face everything went blank and his conscious was back in his shop again, still holding the blonde hair sample.
For a moment he had no idea what to do but then he just went with his routine and pulled out his notebook to write down what he had seen.
For one it was giving him time to calm down and process what he had seen but also it helped his memory stay clear.
Details of visions could have the tendency to fade away quicker than actual memories.
At the end of writing everything down he knew the first two things he should do.
One, make sure Allison was all right.
Two, see if Peter Hale was still in a coma in Beacon Hills Hospital.
~*~
“It’s really nice you called Stiles, I miss talking to you guys as much as we used to.”Stiles chuckled lightheartedly into his phone.
“Me too Ally, though I think it’ll just get more difficult for all of us to get together considering how far we’ve spread. I mean Jackson even crossed the pond with his boyfriend and god knows where Isaac is right now...last I heard he was doing fashion week.”
He heard Allison hum in agreement. “Yeah, and Lydia might be going to France for a year after she’s done...I’d probably go with her and visit my relatives there...speaking of visiting relatives though, I’m going to visit Beacon Hills in a few weeks, we should totally get together, maybe invite Scott and Kira.”
A few weeks, Stiles felt like that might be exactly the point in time where his vision would take place, Allison had looked very similar to the last instagram pictures he had seen of her, same hairstyle, same age, same weight. And he had never predicted anything further into the future than two months.
“Yes, absolutely, we should do that. When do you have time?” He could clearly hear that Allison was grinning just by listening to her voice.
“Wait a second I have to look it up. Ok so, I’ll arrive three weeks from tomorrow and stay four days. The first day we’ll have a family get-together with my parents, my aunt, my grandpa and a few others, the second day I’ll be dead tired, but the day after that I’m free. What do you say?”
Stiles looked at his own calendar. “Sounds good to me. I can close my shop a little early and we can spend the afternoon catching up. I have to go now though, it was good talking to you.”
He heard Allison sigh “Yes, same Stiles. I look forward to seeing you again.”
“Me too. Goodbye Ally.”
“Bye Stiles.”
He hung up and stared at the door he had been pacing in front of while talking to his friend.
He had visited this room exactly once, about six years ago.
Back then he had felt the need to see Peter Hale alive, to see he had been able to save at least one person.
But watching the man in his vegetative state, left alone, the gruesome death of his family probably the last thing he had consciously registered hadn’t helped.
Neither had the negative aura around the man.
Back then Stiles had still been figuring things out, he hadn’t known he was able to sense rudimentary emotions and thoughts of the people around him if he tuned into their ‘channel’.
Back then it had just made him uneasy, later he hadn’t thought about the man as much, had tried to keep his mind busy by doing his best to keep Beacon Hills a quiet and uneventful town.
Apparently fate had decided it was time for him to revisit the man and the topic.
After a few more moments of hesitation he opened the door and stepped into the room.
Peter was lying in bed, eyes closed, one half of his face covered in scar tissue.
Stiles would have known those were burn scars even if he didn’t know the man’s backstory, they looked similar to how his scars had looked in the first month or so after the fire.
He didn’t know what to do at first but then decided to sit down in the chair provided for possible visitors.
“Hi Peter...or Mr. Hale I guess...I’m Stiles. I uh...I helped you out of the burning house. Sorry I couldn’t do more...at least back then I couldn’t...now though...I know this will sound really weird...but I can understand basic thoughts and emotions...I’ll touch you to get a clearer reading and if...if there is something you want to communicate you can do that…”
He swallowed hard, questioning his own actions, the man might not be responsive at all, or he could be so traumatized Stiles would be hurt by even attempting a connection.
And yet he felt like this was his best chance to understand what his vision might mean.
So he reached out and placed his hand gently on Peter’s wrist, opening his usually well guarded mind to the man’s presence.
The first things he sensed were like a deja-vu.

Pain.

Anger.

So much anger it was maddening.

Claws tearing him apart from the inside out.

Thirst for freedom, for revenge and then...peace.

A deep deep yearning to find peace, to escape this hell.

He let go of the man’s hand, trying to pull back and find his way back to himself.
After he cleared his throat and swallowed hard he nodded. “I...I can sense that you are suffering and want to get out of here and take revenge...that’s understandable. You can’t do it alone though, you’ll need help...I could...I could help you, I’ve seen the faces of the people who did this...I have skills that might help you…”
With slightly more hesitation than before he reached out again and prepared for the emotions that might flood him once more.

Violence interspersed with flashbacks of pain and terror.

He got not exactly visuals but vivid emotional concepts.

The primal urge to kill, to hunt, to sink your teeth into living flesh.

He somehow felt - felt! - what it was to be a wolf.

What it would feel like to tear into someone’s throat.

Hot, it was so hot, he felt his hope dying, felt his body burning, his mind running crazy, trying to fight, trying to protect and save, trying to survive!

Walls, keeping him in, mental walls, scratch at them, tear them down! Destroy, flee, run, run, run, RUN!

Screaming, suffering, so much suffering!

Blood, hate, vengeance, righteous fury, yearning for satisfaction, for release!

He pulled away again, surprised he was actually breathing heavier than before.
“What is this wolf thing about? I know it might be hard to concentrate on anything but your need for revenge and the terrible things you went through, but can you try to explain it to me?”
His fingers trembled as he reached out again, fearing another emotional whiplash.

Still pain, still sometimes flashbacks to the fire, but there were other sensations.

The feeling of wood underneath your paws, the rush of hunting a rabbit through the woods, your pack running beside you.

Pack, loneliness, he missed his pack so so much! He was alone, he was left behind, forgotten, given up on, sadness, pain, so much pain, fire, pain, loneliness, revenge...revenge!

Stiles didn’t pull away but instead intertwined his fingers with those of the comatose but clearly conscious man.
“Stay focused please, send me more about being a wolf.” He asked partly to fully understand, though he was getting an idea and partly because he felt like thinking of other things helped Peter’s mind relax a little.

The sensations of tearing flesh and killing faded and there it was again, a sense of the world of scents, of sleeping in a pile of wolves, of family, belonging.

Learning how to be both, wolf and human, the feeling of learning the balance between the two parts of his being.

“Am I right in guessing you are a supernatural being?”
Peter send an affirmative sensation his way and Stiles smiled, sending a sensation of acceptance and welcome back.
“A werewolf then?”
Another affirmation.
“I knew Beacon Hills had had a pack in the past...I just didn’t know it was your family...I am...well...I’m not sure I am a supernatural being in the way a werewolf is, but I have supernatural abilities...besides empathy and low level telepathy. I can do some magic and I am...uh...clairvoyant. I know, sounds fancy...but really I mostly just predict some bullshit...really fascinating things are rare…”
There was curiosity and Stiles smiled again. “I saw you though...you woke up, killed the woman responsible for the fire and for some reason one of my friends was there too and she was afraid of you. But she definitely wasn’t part of those people starting the fire…I saw their faces...I would recognize them.”
Intensity spiced with rage and hatred .
It flooded through the connection and Stiles felt his body tremble but didn’t let go.
He was starting to understand how to predict what emotions would come from the man.
He tried to think of another topic to distract Peter with but the door of the room was flung open and a displeased looking nurse stared at him.

Anger, pain, disgust and a hint of fear.

Those were the emotions coming from Peter, accompanied with the recognition of the woman’s scent.
Stiles immediately didn’t like her and felt like he needed to protect Peter somehow although he had no idea what she might be doing to him.
Apparently he had send those emotions to Peter unintentionally because he got back something between gratitude and lack of hope.
All that took little more than a split second and then the woman spoke in a harsh demanding tone. “What are you doing here?”
Stiles tried to stay calm. “I am visiting, obviously.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Do you have a permit?”
He pulled out a folded piece of paper. “Of course.”
She kept frowning. “This patient never gets visitors.”
Stiles did his best not to frown back. “Well, that is going to change then, or is there a rule preventing it?”
Still with disapprovement in her expression and voice the nurse looked at her clipboard like she didn't know the answer. Stiles was convinced she did. “No, but visiting hours are over soon anyway and I need to take care of the patient so you have to leave now.”
Stiles was convinced he could insist to stay as long as possible.

Surprise, gratitude, something close to dismissal but not as harsh.

He furrowed his brows but nodded then, being difficult would not be helpful right now, if he wanted to help Peter he had to find a way to do it long term.
With a last squeeze of the man’s wrist Stiles left the room, ignoring the nurse and her glares all together, except for making sure to catch the name on her tag.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Standing in the hallway he considered his options for a moment and then went down to the ER.

He knew the chances were slim, but maybe Melissa knew something about the nurse.

When he found her she was swamped in work, always on the go, taking care of patients.

She saw him and gave him a quick questioning look before moving on to making notes on a form for another patient while talking to him. “I thought the days of you showing up in my workplace were over Stiles. Please don’t tell me you broke something again.”

He smiled weakly. “No, I visited someone in long term care. There was a nurse...Jennifer Lightly. Do you know her?”

The expression on Melissa’s face was hard to read but Stiles got some concern and irritation.

“I’ve seen her a few times and know her name, but our paths seldom cross. And when they do I’m usually very busy, just like right now, so I never felt inclined to have a chat.”

He nodded and waited while Melissa helped someone with a broken leg to get to another room for further treatment.

When she came back he continued. “Have you ever heard someone say anything bad about her? How she treats her patients?”

Melissa outright frowned now. “No, but Stiles, if you suspect she might, you have to tell me or someone else in the hospital.”

He sighed deeply “I know, but I don’t have any proof yet and the patient I visited is non responsive, at least in a conventional sense…”

And the irritation was back in Melissa’s face as she skimmed through a few documents, ticking some boxes here and there with practice.

“Conventional sense? Has this anything to do with your special abilities?”

Stiles pressed his lips together.

Melissa had no problem with the topic as far as he knew, but it was often still difficult for people who weren’t surrounded by supernatural things like he was to believe it.

Not ruling it out was usually the best others were able to do.

“It might. I promise I’ll come to you if I find something that proves my suspicion.”

Putting down pen and papers and about to go off somewhere else again Melissa nodded. “Good. Anything else?”

“No, and thank you” Stiles said quickly.

She was already walking while saying loudly “No problem sweety, see you next family dinner.”

He didn’t say anything more, she wouldn’t have heard him, and instead left the hospital to do some research.

~*~

Nurse Lightly’s records were squeaky clean. Which was frustrating.

He had felt Peter’s dread at her presence, maybe there were former complaints but they had been handled internally?

He researched if she had worked at any other facilities.

Sifting through documents of databases he wasn’t usually visiting was a lot more exhausting, but at least his time spent with Danny had polished his abilities to access them and know what to look for.

It took over two hours but finally he found something small.

Jennifer Lightly had worked at an elderly care facility two counties over before she had moved here and started working at Beacon Hills Hospital.

After he had accessed that facility’s archives he found a collection of complaints about her being rough with patients, nothing more though. The complaints had been likely the reason she had been let go from her former workplace though.

Stiles wouldn’t be surprised if she had intentionally sought out a position in which she took care of people who were altogether incapable if voicing complaints that could get her fired.

He hated that idea and wanted to find a way to expose her.

But those complaints were buried in the archives of a private facility he was not supposed to have access to.

He didn’t like it but for now he had to let the nurse go and focus on Peter.

That research required him to look into his analogue sources. Another good thing about his shop was him being aware of most books that came onto the magical market these days. Of course he could not afford the rarer ones but his library was decently stocked.

First he had to start reading up on werewolves. He knew the general gist but until now the specifics hadn’t been relevant to his life so there were bound to be things he wasn’t aware of yet. With a fresh mug of coffee and his half empty pack of gummy worms he prepared for a long night. Was it weird how excited it made him to finally have some sort of project again?

Of course, his main goal was to prevent Peter from hurting Allison, and ideally also to help Peter get better, because the state he was in, physically and mentally was unacceptable, also a side goal was to get rid of that nurse, but over all of this he realized how much he missed figuring stuff out. He felt good right now, reading old books, translating texts from different languages, making deductions.

~*~

That night Stiles had another vision.

He stood outside the burned out ruins of the Hale House and saw himself throw a molotov cocktail at a giant monstrous creature.

There was a stranger he didn’t know, tall, dark hair, intense eyebrows with fangs and claws.

From all he had seen that person was likely another werewolf.

The Molotov cocktail hit the creature, it caught the bottle in its hand but a snap of Stiles fingers and the glass exploded anyway, raining intensely green magical fire all over the thing’s fur.

As the thing was catching fire the stranger jumped and fought it.

The Stiles of his vision went to help while he himself, having the vision, looked around and felt his stomach turn at the sight of Allison’s dead body, mutilated with claws almost beyond recognition.

By now he was usually able to control himself when he had visions but this scene forced a choked sob out of his throat. He wanted to...to do something, anything.

And he could. If he knew enough about what happened he would be able to prevent it. So he had to find out what that creature was. Or who. He had a strong suspicion but he needed to know.

His attention went back to the fight just in time to see the flames die down and reveal Peter once more almost burned to an unrecognizable state and this time very much dead.

When Stiles woke up he was in a shock of sorts.

Allison dead, Peter the murderer, him killing Peter...that didn’t feel like a future he wanted to see come true.

He had to stop Peter from becoming whatever that thing was.

~*~

The next day he was back at Peter’s bedside and took the man’s wrist without hesitation, sending a wave of warmth to greet him.

“I’m back. And I got something for you - for us.”

He pulled out a sphere made of glass, smoke whirling in it's center. The resembles of the thing with which Neville in Harry Potter had used to remember things was uncanny and no coincidence, but this one had an entirely different purpose.

He placed it under Peter’s slack hand and got some curiosity and confusion from him, so he hurried to explain. “As long as we both touch this we will be able to communicate clearly from one mind to the other.

I’ll let you initiate the conversation for now. This way you can control how far you’re comfortable. Just...whenever you’re ready; imagine any kind of place you can see us get together and...chat.” He swallowed, hoping this would work the way he intended it to.

A few moments went by without anything.

Then the smoke inside the sphere started whirling with intent and Stiles felt sucked into it’s purple depth.

His first instinct when he saw he was back in the flames of the Hale House was to freeze and look for clues, like he usually did with visions.

Only this wasn’t a vision, this was the place Peter’s mind was at right now.

So he looked around and saw Peter, running into the flames from outside.

Peter had not been in the house?

Somehow that felt more terrible, Peter wasn’t just traumatized from the attack, he was traumatized because he had tried to save the others and not been able to.

For a while Stiles could only watch.

He saw Peter run into the house again and again, wolfed out, clawing at the locked cellar door, at the floor, ripping burning wood apart to try and get to someone.

He heard the screams, felt himself remember the horror of being in that room.

He saw Peter lose his mind, going feral, again and again and again.

It took him longer than he wished but eventually he realized the first thing he had to do was pull Peter out of there for a longer time than a few seconds.

So maybe taking control was actually the right thing to do right now.

As Peter ran into the house again Stiles blocked his way and grabbed the man’s shoulder. “Enough. Let’s go somewhere else.”

Confusion was visible in the man’s determined face.

But then Stiles had already pushed his own imagery onto them and purple smoke encased them once more.

The next moment they sat in Stiles’ favorite diner.

Peter across from him was the person Stiles had pulled out of the flames.

None of his wounds were healed, most of his body was burned so much you could not say what was clothes, flesh or bone.

Stiles understood, mentally Peter hadn’t healed so how was the way he saw himself supposed to heal.

“Get me back!” The man snarled, dropping fangs.

Stiles leaned back, calm and in control. “No. I’ve seen a terrible future in which a friend of mine dies at your hand and you die at mine. Do you understand that?”

Peter kept snarling, his claws destroying, scratching the surface of the table they were sitting at. “I. Need. To. Go. Back.”

The words were forced out between gritted, predatory teeth, emphasized by the man’s eyes glowing intensely blue and the structure of his face reshaping.

He sighed, it would have been too easy to just reason with the man.

He observed the snarling, growling mess of a creature across from him.

Peter was all base needs and trauma right now.

From what Stiles had read it wasn’t just the trauma of the fire though. Wolves were deeply social beings, Peter was in bad shape physically and mentally because he had neither an Alpha nor packmates, probably no anchor either.

Maybe that was the first thing Peter had to regain. An anchor, something rooting him in the present, helping him keep control of his instincts and base needs.

He had an idea. If it’d work it’d only be a temporary fix, but a fix nonetheless.

He tried to remember what he had seen in the vision and conjured an image of the blonde woman from memory.

He tried to get it right, the wave and color of her hair, her clothes. Grey, tight jeans, dark blue top, leather jacket. He wasn’t sure if those details were from his visions of the fire or her death. Did she have a crossbow? Somehow he felt like she had a crossbow.

Piece by piece she took form, right down to the hateful expression on her face when she called her dying victims animals, beasts and abominations.

With that finished image he let her walk into the diner they were sitting in.

Peter’s head snapped towards her as the bell above the door rang at her entry.

His face went through several hard to identify emotions before it settled on disgust.

Stiles was still calm and casually cleared his throat while the woman smiled at Peter viciously.

He was surprised he remembered that expression on her, she had it when she stepped on the hands of a werewolf girl that had made it pretty far out of the burning basement.

“I take it you know her.”

Peter didn’t take his eyes off her but answered through his still prominent fangs.

“Kate Argent.”

The last name made Stiles eyebrows rise in surprise and realisation.

“That explains a few things…” he muttered.

Mainly it explained how Allison was connected to all this.

If Peter had known it had been this woman who was mainly responsible for his family’s death Stiles mused he’d likely not just be snarling but instead mauling and gutting this imaginary version of her without hesitation.

He raised his voice to ask his next question. “How do you know her?”

Peter stayed quiet for a short moment.

Stiles hoped that was a sign Peter was starting to actually think and not just impulsively react.

When he spoke again his voice was less distorted, the fangs mostly retracted, though his words were still filled with despise. And his posture still tense, his eyes still glowing. “The bitch...Argent...they are all hunters. They’ve hunted our kind for centuries. And she! She somehow got my nephew to fall for her. He was…” there was pure hatred in Peter’s expression at his next words. “He was fifteen. He was a child!”

Okay wow, that was...something dawned on Stiles and he swallowed hard at the idea. “Peter. I need you to concentrate and think. Your house. It was warded, right? Hunters wouldn’t have had a chance to get in there without every wolf being alerted immediately.”

Peter’s eyes fixated on Stiles for the first time.

His gaze was sharp, almost piercing, he was trying to find Stiles’ angle. Good, that was really good. Peter was starting to weigh his words more carefully, more intentional.

“Never.” He spat out before adding “I would have sensed them even if they so much as shortly crossed into our territory.”

Stiles nodded understanding and gave the man a thin lipped smile before continuing. “Unless someone showed them how. Unless they got someone to tell them what kind of wards you had up...someone young, innocent and impressionable...a child.”

He saw the realisation dawning on the werewolf’s face.

There was a moment of heart breaking disbelief “Derek could never-”

Stiles sighed with a compassionate glance at the man. “You said it yourself. She somehow got him to fall for her. A love sick teenager and a beautiful, mature, manipulative woman with an ulterior motive so sinister no child would ever guess it. He didn’t know. He couldn’t have known.”

To Stiles surprise Peter started clawing at his own scalp and whining in pain. “It’s my fault!”

Their environment flickered and they were back inside the burning house for a moment. Stiles was caught off guard by Peter suddenly reclaiming control but then pushed them back into the diner, not bothering with pulling up the memory of Kate Argent again.

“Peter.” He said sternly and tried to find a way to reach the man’s conscious, get his attention.

It was useless.

He was able to hold the image of the diner for a few moments and then they were back at the house again, flames licking their bodies, people screaming.

All the while Peter stayed in place, crouched and mumbling about everything being his fault.

“I was supposed to protect them. I was the one supposed to….I failed, I failed everyone!”

Stiles swallowed hard again, what else could he do?

He thought of showing Peter a version of the events where he managed to save his family.

No, if anything that might intensify Peter’s guilt and force him deeper into this stagnant state.

No...but maybe if he-

A hand on his shoulder pulled him back into reality.

He blinked confused at the grim face of Jennifer Lightly.

“You need to go.” she demanded.

He looked at the clock, visiting period wasn’t over, but it was going to be soon enough.

Picking a fight with her would only complicate things and help no one.

He felt bad about leaving Peter with her and in here again, but he had no other choice.

With a short touch he tried to send positivity and hope towards the man’s guilt ridden, furious mind, but he wasn’t sure how much help it really could be.

~*~

That night Stiles went into another research frenzy.

He knew if he kept this up a lot longer it’d take a toll on him but he couldn’t just go to bed with all those things running through his mind constantly.

So he did what he was best at, ignore everything around him and go into hyper focus, losing track of time completely.

~*~

He woke up when sunbeams warmed his face.

Opening his sticky eyes and lifting his head from the heavy, ancient, echidna skin bound tome he had been reading he saw the sun was already pretty high up and bathing his little shop in white gold light.

It had to be before noon still, but by how much he couldn’t say.

He could only guess when he had fallen asleep, or what had been the last thing he had read.

Curious he skimmed the page the book was opened on.

A location spell.

Why would he have looked up a locating spell, and why another one than the one he would usually go for?

He was rummaging around in his still a bit sleepy brain.

He remembered using the other spell to try and find out if any of his books had something useful on balancing a trauma victim’s or anybody’s emotions.

It hadn’t worked, of course, he could have told himself that if he had been less exhausted or desperate at that moment.

The spell was meant for finding lost items not for something as vague as ‘knowledge’ or ‘information’.

That explained why he had been looking up another locating spell though.

He read the spell again, with more intention of checking it’s possible effectiveness.

It seemed simple and clear enough and apparently had been developed by a monk in charge of a library in the 11th century. So it was probably pretty perfect for this.

He clasped his hands together in a motion of prayer and closed his eyes, mentally calling upon the higher powers that be, because of course that was how religious magic had to work - worship. It wasn’t his usual style but he was able to adapt.

“Deus omnipotens! Spiritus ubique! Filio misereatur! Ego ostendam sapientiam quaeso!!”

Almost immediately power flooded him and he was aware it wasn’t his.

Ever since he first had felt the power of another plane of consciousness fill him and grant the wish he had voiced at the time Stiles had understood why some people had the deep faith they had.

Those people were often misguided in what exactly it was they believed in and how they could channel the thing they prayed to, but they still got some sense of its power when it decided to work through them, in big but sometimes also in small ways.

He knew this wasn’t God or Allah, not Ganesha or Ra. This was simply the world’s consciousness, the all surrounding energy of life - wild magic, the most fickle of powers to consult, logically also the strongest.

The energy poured from his fingertips into the room and guided his hands to reach for a specific book.

As he pulled it out he already knew it was the book he had been reading not long ago, a book entirely about werewolves.

He held it in his hands and the spell skimmed through the pages until the book was opened on one with a clear and slightly confusing title.

‘Werewolf mating rituals and soul bonds’.

He almost - almost - was inclined to believe the spell didn’t work.

But a small part of him decided a title could always be deceiving, maybe there was a footnote on how to help a traumatized wolf snap out of their headspace and start healing.

He sat back down, placed the book before him and started reading.

Not long and he remembered that he had skipped some parts of this chapter before because it described werewolf anatomy in greater detail than he had wanted to think about.

Now he knew more about a werewolf’s penis and vagina than he suspected he’d ever need.

But the chapter wasn’t finished so he continued.

And then there it was, the answer to his problem.

Well, at least an answer to his problem.

Apparently when a werewolf bonded with a mate - which often happened naturally but occasionally was magically induced either because it was something the involved parties desired or it served some higher purpose - their bond mate automatically became their anchor.

They also apparently had great influence on each other. The presence of a mate often immediately improved a wolf’s mood, health, stamina and mental state. It also apparently increased their possessive streak, their need for physical touch and their instinct to provide for their mate. It did sound like this was mainly meant for romantic couples of sort, but it also sounded like it might be the fastest solution there was.

Also, there was a spell to break such a bond, so it wasn’t like they had to stay like this if one of them felt too uncomfortable with it.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Before heading to Peter, armed with the knowledge of how to create the bond and a few other things he thought might be useful, Stiles decided to activate the golem he had in storage.

He had specifically made it to take over his shop if necessary.

It was equipped with the skills to serve at the shop and looked like a pleasant, but forgettable, gender neutral person.

Stiles usually preferred to be the one to serve the customers because he could better react to each individual and also choose if he wanted to sell someone something or not, but it was necessary right now. He could not really afford to keep his shop closed for long, not with the demand around Beacon Hills. He’d lose customers.

So this was a good solution for occasions like this.

The visiting hours had just started when he came in and the woman at the reception greeted him politely. He smiled at her, took his permit when she handed it to him and headed for Peter’s room. He hoped the additional time would get them further than the two hours in the evening he had been able to visit Peter so far. He also hoped Nurse Lightly would not come in before later in the day.

When he entered the room and looked at Peter’s limp body he got the sense something was different, but he couldn’t put his finger on it yet.

He pulled the single chair in the room closer to the bed and placed his shoulder back against it before reaching out and gently taking hold of the man’s hand.

To his surprise there was an immediate response, a welcoming warmth that was send through the connection.

“I’m happy to see you too” he murmured with a soft smile. “You seem to be doing better today. How do you feel about trying the orb again?”

Approval spiked with wariness.

“Ok, let’s take this slow, one step at a time. You can set the pace.”

He took out the glass sphere and placed it once again under Peter’s fingers, himself cupping it from below so they both were touching it.

This time it didn’t take long for Stiles to be sucked into the purple smoke.

Within moments he was placed in a forest, standing in a small and beautiful clearing.

Peter was sitting, cross legged, at the edge of the clearing on the remains of a big tree that had toppled decades ago and was covered in moss and fern.

The werewolf was still burned on most parts of his body - at least those Stiles could see, but the clothes he wore were clean and told of another person underneath all those wounds.

A simple, white unbuttoned henley and comfortable pull on jeans in a washed out grey.

He was barefoot and tried to give Stiles a charming smile, though it turned out somewhat melancholy.

Stiles came closer and pushed himself up so he was able to sit on the tree trunk as well, crossing his legs and facing the man.

“So...this is a pleasant place, seems like you are truly doing a lot better than before.”

Peter nodded. “Yes, yesterday was a bad day and this device overwhelmed me, it made things more palpable in a way...because I wasn’t the only one experiencing them…”

Stiles nodded and had a thought. “I was there...that night...several times, in my visions...my memory might have subconsciously fleshed out yours and made it more real as well...I am very sorry Peter- or would you prefer if I called you Mr. Hale?”

There was a small smile. “Peter is fine and you don’t have to apologize. You just tried to help me and it’s not like you could have known how bad I can get on a really bad day… And what you showed me actually did help me in parts - after I got out of the worst part of my episode. I am not…”

The man’s face twisted into something close to disgust. “I am not good in any way...I still feel like I should have known, should have prevented this...but I can still hate myself after I killed every damn Argent I can get my hands on!”

Stiles swallowed hard as he heard those words and the growling bass in the man’s voice.

He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “Kate Argent, yes. I am with you on that one. And the others that were involved. But my vision...in it you killed my friend, Allison. She’s my age, she would have been too young to be involved and I really don’t think she is even in the know about all of this...I...I can’t let you kill her. And preferably not anybody else who wasn’t involved in setting the fire…”

Peter’s expression turned decidedly sour. “And how old would you two have been? Fourteen? Fifteen? That isn’t too young for those degenerates to indoctrinate a child. For all we know she might have been trained to kill my kind - and others - since she was able to stand on two feet.”

Stiles shook his head “I really don’t think-”

Peter cut him off, an impressive snarl curving his lips. “And what if you’re wrong? What if she fooled you? What if in those years of friendship all the time she was out there, killing creatures like me - like you. What if you are her one exception? Can I trust you to do the right thing?”

Stiles saw their surroundings waver and realized no matter how stable Peter might seem right now, it only resembled sanity, he wasn’t actually in the condition to have a debate that’d seriously rile him up.

He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths before he contemplated the man’s questions.

He wasn’t even wrong, although Stiles really felt like he would know if Allison was a hunter. He was sure some of his visions would have informed him about it at some point…

Still.

“You are right. It is possible I am wrong about her. And I assure you, if I am, I’ll do what it takes to keep her from killing any innocent people. I’ll even taken an oath on that, if that would make you feel better. On the condition you take an oath not to kill her or others that didn’t hurt anybody that didn’t deserve it.”

The man assessed Stiles with eyes that seemed to find the smallest dark corners in his soul and take note of them.

Finally he showed a smirk, it wasn’t nice and it didn’t make Stiles feel safe, but it made Peter look more like he knew what he was doing.

“Okay little mage. Once we’ve got me out of this state you can prepare for us to take those oaths.”

That was a step in the right direction Stiles supposed.

Before the man might change his mind he decided to jump on the next topic. “Right, okay. About that. I found very little in my books about how to help you. I know theoretically that you probably need a pack, or at least an anchor, but all I could find as a solution was creating a soul bond between you and a...mate. Which would have to be me - which I’d be okay with if that is what it takes - but I understand if you’d feel uncomfortable, even though it’d only have to be for a fairly short time-”

This time Peter didn’t cut him off by talking over him but instead raised his hand. It was partly glistening red, partly blackened and in some places even burned enough to show bone.

“A mating bond is a very serious connection Stiles. And even though it isn’t advisable to create one between people that aren’t already very close, it’s even less advisable to break it afterwards.”

Stiles couldn’t help but furrow his brows. “But not impossible. I’ve seen the spell. It’d be difficult, but I can assure you I am very skilled, I think I can handle it.”

Peter shook his head and smiled weakly. “I am not doubting your abilities. But even done perfectly it’s still a bad idea. The bond, it is created by connecting the souls, making them dependant on each other, by binding them together and forging a single spiritual organism. The minds are still independent but their spirits aren’t. I would be affected by your magic, you would be affected by my wolf, we would be affected by each other’s trauma and emotions...it connects two souls on an unbelievably intimate level. Breaking such a bond...bonded werewolves rarely ever survive losing their mate. When they do it’s worse than if they hadn’t. But it’s not the only way.”

Before Stiles could ask what other ways there were Peter reached into the air and pulled a big, old looking book seemingly from nothing.

As Peter leaved through the pages Stiles was impressed by the details of the man’s memory.

“Do you have a photographic memory?”

Peter chuckled - actually chuckled! - and Stiles had to admit it was an unfairly attractive sound even from someone more resembling a lump of coal than a person.

“Photographic memory is a myth for the most part. There are some people with an eidetic memory. But I’m not that either, I just remember most things I read at some point in my life. Now please take a look at this potion. Do you think you could make it? It’s a more complex healing potion than most, but it’ also a lot more effective on mental injuries.”

A little bit confused Stiles looked at the ingredients and instructions. “Yeah I’m pretty sure I can, but your wounds have a physical cause…”

With a little shake of his head Peter pointed at himself and his burned body while explaining. “This is what keeps my body from healing. The original wounds might have been induced physically but the thing that needs healing the most is my mind. And while I probably won’t be all healed after taking this potion I will hopefully be well enough to jump kick my physical healing process and get out of this sterile smelling hell pit of a place.”

There was that snarl again but this time Stiles didn’t feel concerned by it, at least not as much as before. Plus, he could absolutely relate to resenting the hospital.

So there was no need for them to become mates.

That was good. Though that connection Peter had described was something he very much wanted to have one day.

He just needed to find the right somebody to share it with.

There was a strange idea in his head.

He barely knew this man, could not call him attractive in the slightest - physically at least - and yet there was something he felt drawn to.

Maybe the strength, the determination...the moral flexibility...how he was able to logically argue with Stiles in a state in which most people would not have been able to put two and two together…

Yeah no, he really shouldn’t get any ideas, Peter still had a lot of time to show some less than attractive traits.

“Is there a physical form of this receipt somewhere? My memory is all right, but I’d like to make sure I get the details right.”

The man smirked. “There is, but it’s written in a goidelic dialect, it took me some time to translate it.”

Now it was time for Stiles to smirk. “That won’t be a problem. Where can I find it?”

With a surprised but genuine smile Peter answered “In one of my family’s bunkers. I’ll explain to you how to get it.”

Their eyes met and Stiles thought Peter’s face looked a little less damaged by now.

They did definitely need that potion to speed things up but it seemed like Peter was slowly getting better on his own already.

And while it probably really was just the fact Peter had a new perspective now Stiles liked to imagine he maybe played a small role in this.

After Peter had explained how Stiles could get the book they said their goodbyes and Stiles left the orb by easing his conscious back into his own body.

This was a lot more pleasant than being yanked out of it as suddenly as he had been the last time.

It was barely afternoon, he’d have enough time to get the book and all the necessary ingredients.

~*~

Getting the book hadn’t been all that difficult after Peter’s explanation.

What was a lot more difficult was not to move into that god damn bunker. It was an honest to god excessively stacked library of the supernatural and occult. Stiles almost had a braingasm at the sight of so many expensive and rare books in one place.

He had restraint himself though and just taken the one he needed and made his way out of there with his eyes fixated on the door to keep himself from being tempted.

Maybe there was a future in which Peter would allow him continued access to this treasure of knowledge.

Stiles certainly would try his best.

He could be pretty persuasive.

~*~

Finding all the right ingredients proved a little harder than expected - partly because his golem had sold the last jar of yellow troll bile. And he did have to look up what ‘Oldwoman’ could mean - except for an actual old woman.

Turns out it was an outdated name for wormwood. Which he luckily did have in stock.

The milk of a Crown of Thorns was also a bit of a head scratcher.

After a bit of research he realized milk in this case meant natural latex from a plant which was occasionally called Crown of Thorns.

Frustratingly that was something he didn’t stock so far. So instead he had to do another locating spell to find out if the plant grew somewhere in the area.

Then, when he luckily found some, he had to sneak into someone’s garden and fucking milk the plant. It deserved it’s name by the way. Those delicate red flowers were hiding some vicious thorns.

He got the yellow troll bile from a witch he was friends with and finally was ready to cook up the potion.

Which would mean he pretty much had his night planned out since this would take a while.

Stiles started his ‘Charming Tunes’ playlist, rolled up his sleeves and began chopping the wormwood roots.

~*~

After the potion had been finished Stiles had needed sleep. He could have kept going, but he had enough experience with sleep deprivation to be aware that kind of behavior would not be very helpful long term.

His golem was once again working the shop while Stiles slept on the couch in the backroom.

He was at the Argents house.

There were people he didn’t know and some he was very familiar with.

Allison had a shocked expression on her face.

She was looking at a bundle in the corner of the living room.

By closer observation Stiles could identify himself.

“Mom! What-” his friend was clearly not able to process what she was seeing.

Her next words were whispered “what the fuck…”

Allison’ mother came into view, dragging an almost unconscious Peter into the room, pulling him by the hair.

With his face fully healed he’d have looked irresistibly handsome if it wasn’t for the situation.

He was restrained with a rope that looked to be laced with wolfsbane.

His eyes were glowing blue and hateful but his face was tense with pain.

Kate Argent followed Victoria and Peter into the room.

She stepped over Peter, chuckling as she kicked him in the stomach in passing and then approached Stiles’ friend with a tender smile.

“Allison, Sweety, calm down. It’s just a witch and a werewolf. They aren’t people.”

That seemed too much for Allison because she grabbed her forehead to brace herself. “What...what are you talking about aunt Kate? That...that’s my friend, Stiles.”

Kate Argent - Allison’s aunt! - strolled towards Stiles’ unconscious or maybe dead body and turned him over with one of her feet.

He could not see a clear cause of death, so maybe he was just out in that moment.

“A ‘friend’ that has helped a feral werewolf get into our home. A werewolf that hsd almost killed us! I can’t believe you let him live that long Vic.”

Allison’s mother frowned. “Chris made me. He went on about the code, you know how he is…”

“Yeah yeah…” Kate mumbled, taking Stiles’ pulse and then, with that same vicious smirk as back at the Hale house she pulled a knife from her boot, holding it out, hilt first, to Allison. “Come Ally, it’s high time you learned the ropes of the family business. My brother has guarded you long enough. Take down your first monster.”

Stiles woke up, not feeling on fire or anything but rather filled with the very real dread of knowing a future where his friend was told to kill him.

He looked at the clock. It was early afternoon.

They had to better they chances. Stiles had to make sure he could not be easily knocked out and Peter needed more power, enough to deal with more than two or three hunters.

He probably needed the power of an Alpha if what Stiles knew about werewolves was true.

That were thoughts for a later time though.

Right now he had to have a quick change of clothes, maybe a shower, something to eat and then he’d bring Peter the potion.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The receptionist handed Stiles the permit and he told himself not to run, not to seem rushed. Peter had been in a coma for years, he would be able to wait a few more minutes.

He entered Peter’s room without hesitation only to find that awful nurse again.

She had one hand on Peter’s neck.

For the untrained eye it might have seemed like she was just touching him there, maybe going over his light stubble to decide if he needed shaving. But Stiles very clearly saw how her thumb and index finger were blocking his jugulars, keeping blood and thus oxygen from reaching his brain.

She looked caught off guard for a split second and then smiled sweetly while folding the used bed sheets she had changed.

“I’m not done taking care of Mr. Hale, you’ll have to wait.”

Stiles knew he had no evidence she had done what he knew she had. But he was going to make damn sure she wasn’t doing it again.

“No problem” he responded, just as sweetly, walking to the chair and sitting down. “I have time.”

She clearly didn’t like the fact he stayed but he knew she had no grounds to tell him off.

None that wouldn’t raise more questions than she probably wanted.

They were at a stalemate.

Eventually she left.

The other times Stiles had not dared to keep people away with magic but since he wasn’t sure what might happen or how long this entire thing would take he cast a spell on the door for this time. The spell would help people who considered entering the room to remember something else that had clear priority over this.

After that was taken care of he took Peter’s hand and greeted him with thoughts of positivity.

“Hi Peter. Are you ready to take the potion?”

He got a sense of affirmation back. It wasn’t happy or excited but that was okay, the affirmation was the important part.

He uncorked the flask with the potion and let the thick, palely teal colored liquid slowly drip into Peter’s mouth.

Then he waited.

It didn’t take all that long and he saw first signs of improvement.

Peter’s scars were slowly healing, vanishing more and more until they faded to less than what Stiles had on his arms.

He didn’t dare to do anything like talk or touch Peter. So he just sat there, observing the changes, fascinated and somewhat anxious.

He actually flinched when Peter’s eyes suddenly opened.

Not because he was surprised or shocked but because he had been so tense and that had snapped him out if it.

He witnessed Peter turning his head to him and smiling weakly. “You did it...beautiful little mage…”

Stiles was too captivated to blush at the endearment. “I did...how are you feeling?”

The man grunted as he sat up in his bed and let his neck crack as if he had slept in an uncomfortable position. “Better...a lot better...and...saner, at least somewhat. There is still…”

He took a heavy breath and clenched and unclenched his fists while watching the movement. “There is a lot of fire still in me. When can we go?”

Stiles couldn’t hide a grim smile at the question. “We still got about two weeks and that’s good, because we’ve got stuff to do. I had another vision. We need to become more powerful or we won’t survive.”

The werewolf frowned. “I can handle a few hunters.”

Stiles sighed and went for reasonable, hoping Peter was capable to listen to him. “Healthy, unburned you, I am sure, but in your current state you need some extra juice. Which is why I’m proposing we find you an Alpha to kill.”

And there were those impressively sharp eyes assessing him, in real life this time, making it feel even more intense.

“Stiles, how old are you? Twenty? You are strangely okay with me killing a random Alpha considering how hard you fought for me to agree to vow I would not kill anybody who was innocent.”

Stiles shrugged, partly because he didn’t know how to respond at first and partly because he didn’t fully trust his mouth to do what he wanted.

“We can choose a bad Alpha…” was what he finally settled on before straightening himself up. “Besides, don’t assume you know my morals just because I don’t want you to go on a mindless killing spree of my friend’s family. It’s good you mentioned the vows though, I actually prepared the ritual for it. So if you want to get started we can get that over with, put an illusion spell on your room and then go catch ourselves an Alpha.”

Stiles got a smile he could not entirely place before Peter nodded and held out his arm for the blood sacrifice their oaths would require.

Stiles smiled hesitantly as he took the man’s wrist in his hand. “Not your first time then, huh?”

After their oaths Stiles created the illusion Peter was still lying in his bed and additionally he cursed the bed so anybody who approached it got some sort of urgent bodily emergency like having to pee or sudden food poisoning. Then, to top it all off he cursed the room, including it’s door to be almost impossible to remember. Only someone who really intently concentrated on it would even remember the door, room and it’s patient existed.

~*~

It took them several days to track down an Alpha that fit their needs. In the meantime Peter had indeed given Stiles access to his library and the both of them together had worked on ways to make Stiles more powerful as well.

By now he was equipped with a few rings that boosted his physical abilities, a necklace that warned him of sneak attacks and a pocket watch that made it possible for him to teleport short distances.

It was amazing and a bit jarring what a difference the quality of one’s education could make, in magic but as usual also in general access to information and other educational material mattered a lot.

Peter had been able to collect all these books because his family already had money. And with the knowledge in these books he could easily make more money. Stiles on the other hand had build his own business from scratch and was doing okay but every step up was an endless battle against the odds.

But at least Peter wasn’t hording his knowledge in order to prevent others - like Stiles - from using it.

If anything he seemed to enjoy the time they spend researching together.

Stiles definitely did - maybe a little bit too much.

It wasn’t like he was falling head over heels for the guy but with every day Peter took the potion and got better he seemed to be closer to a person Stiles felt incredibly attracted to. The episodes weren’t gone, Stiles suspected no healing potion could fully take that away. But between those bad moments Peter talked with Stiles.

They had a quick-witted and sharp rapor that fell somewhere between the teasing of friends and the flirting of people testing each other.

It helped in their endeavor because it made working together feel easy.

When they finally came face to face with the Alpha they had chosen - a guy that had killed his entire pack in some convoluted attempt to become more powerful - the poor soul had no chance in heaven or hell against them.

Stiles held back, aware Peter needed to know he had earned the kill but helped here and there to make sure his favorite werewolf wasn’t going to get seriously hurt.

The fight was over quickly and Peter dragged his claws through the man’s throat.

Stiles saw Peter’s eyes flash intense red and heard the man let out an impressive roar as the lifeless body of the former Alpha collapsed to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.

He should probably not have thought this was sexy, but he did.

Right up until Peter had fallen forward onto his hands and knees and started changing.

“Peter…” Stiles mumbled clueless as to what to do.

He had flashbacks to the creature he had seen in his vision and had the horrid suspicion that was what Peter was turning into right now.

It had also had red glowing eyes so it had also been an Alpha.

A moment later though he was a little relieved as a gigantic wolf with black fur and a few dark grey patches at the legs and stomach stood in front of him.

Peter was magnificent in his full wolf shift, far more imposing than Stiles had imagined it.

There was a regal atmosphere to the appearance.

After letting Stiles admire him for a few seconds though Peter suddenly ran off into the forest.

Stiles cursed loudly, took a last look at the corpse, contemplating his options but then decided they were so far off the grid it was unlikely someone would find it any time soon and then followed the big wolf into the woods. And he was wearing his red hoodie of course, great fashion choice...

~*~

Finding Peter had taken longer than Stiles had hoped.

By the time he had finally tracked down the werewolf the sun was already filling the misty forest with cold morning light.

Peter - human and naked - was lying at the base of a big pine tree, blood and some pieces of an animal he had hunted and killed were strewn around him.

Gently Stiles placed his hoodie over the man’s body and then tried to remember how to conjure clothes. Because looking at a naked Peter would make things unnecessarily difficult.

While he tried to remember the spell Peter suddenly surged up, his eyes flaring red and a deep growling rumble escaping his throat.

Stiles shrieked - it wasn’t dignified at all but felt appropriate in the situation.

The noise let Peter’s eyes fixate on him and Stiles tried to take a few steps back but just stumbled over a root of the tree and fell flat on his ass with a pained yelp.

Moments later Peter - his body now in his beta shift, with fangs and claws and lots of hair - was on top of him, growling, baring his teeth with saliva moments from dripping down his prominently showing gums.

Stiles knew Peter was a person, but right now he felt a lot more like an animal, like his instincts had taken over. He could probably be lucky there were no people around for miles or Peter might have instinctively tried to make himself some Betas…

Stiles head was racing and he was trying to remember how wolves and dogs usually submitted to each other. He had no clue if that was the right thing to do but it was something he was willing to try before blasting Peter off of him.

Okay, okay, okay...he was already on his back so, he should probably expose his throat.

Carefully, watching Peter’s reaction he leaned his head back and bared his neck for the werewolf. Then he remembered that eye contact was another sign of dominant behavior and purposefully started to avoid Peter’s glowing red eyes.

He remembered some dogs peed in submission, but he was definitely not going to do that.

He could feel Peter’s hot breath, salival and a hint of teeth on the skin of his neck but forced himself to trust that Peter would not hurt him.

Then he remembered that wolves and dogs also licked each others muzzles in a display of friendly submission.

He could do that.

It might be a little awkward later on, but it was probably worth a try, right?

With his heart beating in his throat Stiles shifted slightly, still baring his neck for the most part and still avoiding eye contact. Finally he was lying close enough to reach up a little and actually lick the corner of Peter’s mouth, once, twice.

The growl from Peter’s throat got lower and definitely less aggressive.

Stiles licked two more times and then Peter moved his head a little and the next thing Stiles felt was the man’s nose on his neck.

Peter was scenting him, that was definitely a good sign.

All tension left Stiles, he let his head fall back onto the forest ground and let Peter rub himself against his neck, head and torso to the wolf’s delight.

~*~

When he woke up again he wasn’t even sure how he had fallen asleep, but tracking an Alpha werewolf through unfamiliar woods could be exhausting so he wasn’t too confused.

Peter, back in entirely human form was still half lying on top of him, humming lowly in contentment.

When Stiles moved a little there was a hand placed on his chest.

Peter’s voice was calm and gentle when he spoke “Let us stay like this a little longer...my wolf hasn’t felt this good since before the fire…”

Stiles felt something warm and very pleasant settle in his chest and couldn’t keep in a deep and relaxed sigh. “Ok...but at some point I’ll have to pee…”

~*~

They disposed of the body mostly in comfortable silence.

It felt like something had settled, like they had grown closer together and Stiles had to admit he liked the feeling a lot.

On their drive back to Beacon Hills he decided to approach the topic. “I feel different...do you feel different?”

He knew it was vague but it was the best he could do right now.

But Peter seemed to understand.

“I do.” he said, his voice warm and almost caressing. “It was somewhat unorthodox, but the way you submitted to my wolf helped it accept you as pack. You are my Beta now. Werewolf or not, that bonds us into something similar to a family. And since you are very sensitive towards the energy shifts in your environment you can sense that. Does it concern you?”

There was a hint of insecurity and Stiles smiled widely and reassuringly placed his hand on Peter’s forearm.

“No, it makes me happy. I like the way it makes me feel like I belong. I mean, I have my dad, and my friends and it’s not like I didn’t belong before, but this feels different, this feels like belonging but with a purpose. It’s good.”

For a few moments Peter didn’t say anything and Stiles felt some insecurity of his own now.

But then the man took a deep breath before laughing - actually laughing! - a bit shakily. “I’m glad you feel that way...because I would not have wanted you to feel forced into this in any way...but we didn’t just become pack. You also became my anchor. Which will have to change eventually, because people aren’t great anchors. A good anchor would be something less fleeting. But for now it’s good. It makes me feel a lot more stable. I apologize in case that puts some sort of pressure on you.”

Stiles thought about it. “I mean...it means I probably should think about more than just myself when I make decisions, but at the end of the day you are responsible for your actions and I am responsible for mine. Your wolf is part of you, not all of you and while I’ll admit I like the fact your wolf chose me as an anchor I am not going to have a freak out if you ever flip. It’s not in my control.”

This time Peter reached out and placed his hand on Stiles’ neck, squeezing affectionately. “That’s a good way to look at it.”

The warmth that had settled in Stiles chest traveled a bit down south and Stiles smiled but hoped Peter was not able to tell in what ways his touches were affecting him.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

It was the day before Allison, her aunt, and her other extended family were to arrive.

They had prepared as well as they possibly could.

And if everything went as planned the people that hadn’t been involved would be none the wiser at the end of it.

Peter was tense with anticipation, it was clearly visible but there was literally nothing else they could do.

So Stiles decided to try and calm his Alpha down.

He stood up from his computer and walked to sit next to Peter on the pulled out couch Peter had slept on for the last few days.

He deliberately bumped their shoulders together to get Peter out of what he was doing at the moment - which was staring at the drawings Stiles had made of the people he had seen set the fire in his visions.

Three they had not been able to identify but were certain could be tracked down after they interrogated Kate and the other guy who apparently was the favorite lacky of the family’s patriarch Gerard Argent.

They had both agreed Gerard was to die as well after Peter had told Stiles a few of the stories that were told about the guy and Stiles had done some research himself.

Peter looked up and smiled weakly at Stiles before pressing his lips together and going back to staring.

Stiles sighed and placed his hand over Peter’s fist. “Peter. You need to relax a little before tomorrow…”

The man frowned. “I can’t. All I want is to wrap my hands around her neck.”

“And you will, but right now...physical contact grounds you, right?”

“It’s more about the scenting but yes...it helps.”

Stiles nodded and took a more determined hold of Peter’s hand. “Come with me.”

Peter looked confused as Stiles pulled him up and dragged him to his bedroom but Stiles didn’t care.

He pulled Peter through the door, closed it behind him and pointed on the bed. “Undress and lie down.”

Peter stayed where he had stopped in his tracks and tilted his head a little as Stiles started to take off his shirt.

“Stiles...this is a nice thought and I am absolutely not opposed to doing this with you some day but I’m not sure this is a good-”

Stiles had tossed his shirt and put his finger on Peter’s mouth. “While I’m not opposed to doing the sex at some point either, and glad we had this conversation so easily, this is not going to be sexual in any way.

As I understand it scenting is about body odor. So it should work best when there is little else besides our bodies. It might be early to go to sleep, but I have no problem spending the rest of the day in my bed, snuggling with you. Especially if it means it’ll help you relax before we go fuck up some hunters tomorrow. So, are you down?”

Peter smiled and it was a smile of appreciation and admiration. “My beautiful, marvellous boy, do you even know how perfect you are?”

Stiles felt his heart skip a beat but kept his cool and smirked at the man while he started to unbutton his own jeans. “No, but you can tell me all about it once we are in my bed.”

Peter did not need any more encouragement it seemed because he pulled his own shirt over his head in one swift motion before working on the buckle of his belt.

They slid into bed next to each other and slotted together as easy as if they had done it a million times.

Peter wrapped his broad arms around Stiles middle, face buried in his neck and Stiles wrapped his long, leanly muscled limbs around Peter’s body like a baby sloth.

It didn’t take long for Peter to relax into it, for his breathing to become deeper and slower and then for him to start emitting a low, comforting rumble that was very close to a purr.

Stiles couldn’t hide a grin when he heard it. “I didn’t know werewolves purred…”

Peter smiled lazily back. “Alphas do...werewolf biology is mysterious that way…”

Stiles snuggled closer and without thinking pressed a kiss to Peter’s temple. “I like it.”

Peter did not address the kiss and instead went back to purring and nuzzling Stiles’ neck now and then.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The next day came and they geared up. Stiles knew even if everything went as planned he’d be exhausted afterwards so he made sure he had all his power enhancing potions in easily reachable places.
They had rented a dinged up van for the heavier utensils they intended to use and Peter had additionally rented an expensive looking sports car.
Stiles was pretty sure it was mainly because Peter liked driving a car that made him look like Tony Stark - a suspicion that was only further confirmed since Peter had groomed his facial hair into a goatee as soon as it was possible.
The first part of their plan involved intercepting Allison’s path to her parent’s house.
Not unlike Derek had been the Argent’s trojan horse, she was going to be theirs.
Luckily Stiles knew Allison had a sweet spot for animals. Peter now being able to transform into a wolf came in extremely handy at that.
Even though Peter hated wearing a collar and leash with a passion.
They ‘walked’ along a street through the forest area they knew Allison had to pass through to get to her destination.
As soon as Stiles saw the familiar car he nudged Peter gently and the werewolf ‘tore’ himself free from his leash, ran into the street and let Allison’s car hit his hind legs.
Stiles - disguised as a boring looking man in his 50s - ran after Peter and came to the scene at the same time as Allison had left her car, an expression of horror on her face.
“Oh my god! He just ran at the car! I’m so so sorry!”
Stiles kneeled down with a groan like his joints were hurting and ‘inspected’ his ‘dogs’ injuries.
“Old boy….please be okay…” he mumbled hoarsely
Peter made a sound like the wolf equivalent of a snort and moved his head towards Stiles, licking his face and wagging his tail.
Stiles smiled and looked up at Allison. “I think he’s okay.”
She looked relieved but still worried. “It felt like I hit him...let me give you my number in case he needs treatment or something.”
With another groan Stiles stood up. “Good call, I am glad to see some young folks know how to act responsibly.”
She smiled weakly and wrote down her number.
Stiles took the note with a nod and patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, I am sure he’s find.”
She looked at him with compassion “I really hope he is.”
After Peter was back by Stiles side and Allison had driven off Peter nudged him questioningly and Stiles nodded. “I attached it to her shoulder, she’ll carry it into the house.”
~*~
All they needed to do now was wait. Wait and observe the Argent’s house.
Since a bunch of hunters could easily have noticed two guys sitting in a transporter for hours Stiles had instead enchanted a swarm of caddisflies so their combined senses could transmit a fairly accurate picture of what was going on while they were sitting a few streets away, Peter pretending to work on their navigation system.
“Gerard and Kate both arrived together…” Stiles mumbled.
Peter grimaced “I bet they’ve been planning their next murder spree.”
Stiles stayed concentrated on the images he got from his little friends. “One of the guys we hadn’t identified so far is just arriving as well…”
Peter only hummed to show he was listening and Stiles continued. “He has a gun strapped to his hip and Allison’s dad is apparently demanding he take it off in the house…”
There was a low, contemplating noise from Peter.”Maybe Chris hasn’t gone off the deep end after all…”
Stiles was distracted by that comment. “You know him? Also, I told you, from what I’ve heard and seen in my vision he is being judged by Kate and his wife for being too by-the-book. You told me about their code, if he’s following that then he’s not allowed on your kill list.”
Stiles got an eye roll as his answer at first but eventually Peter gave an actual verbal response. “I knew Chris when we were younger...Derek wasn’t the only one intrigued by the scandalous nature of fancying a hunter...only Chris never took advantage of my little crush...even though I was about Derek’s age and Chris was an adult. I would not have liked him if he had been the kind of person to try and manipulate me into exposing my family anyways...not that I’m blaming Derek, he was far more gullible and sweet hearted at that age than I’ve ever been in my entire life…”
That was some information Stiles had no idea how to react to.
Chris Argent was certainly a handsome man, but as the father of a friend of Stiles’ he had never looked at him and contemplated if he thought he was attractive.
And he still wouldn’t, not now.
He turned his attention back to the events in the Argent’s house and garden and saw them all take seats at the long garden table.
“It looks like they are starting their barbecue. They are about a dozen people. We could activate the curse now. I think we can handle possible latecomers.”
There was a sudden clatter as Peter let the GPS land on the dashboard.“Sounds good to me.”
Peter started driving and Stiles mumbled the activating words and snapped his ring and middle fingers with his thumb to trigger the curse he had placed on Allison’s body.
The caddisflies showed him how Allison collapse into sudden sleep, and then roughly at the same time everybody else lost consciousness as well.
“It worked like charm.”
Peter snorted and shook his head. “It most certainly did not.”
“Semantics…” Stiles countered and smiled with appreciation while a smirk crossed Peter’s determined face.
He loved how well their minds worked together, in the big things and the small ones. They pulled up the Argent’s driveway and went right around the house to the back without bothering with the front door. The door to the back porch was open so there was no need.
All twelve people were out and the Argent’s love for privacy was Stiles and Peter’s friend because it meant no one could easily see what was going on in the backyard.
Peter did the heavy lifting, pulling everyone they knew was guilty out of their chairs and then started undressing them.Stiles in the meantime got all the utensils he needed - including a shitload of clay - to create a few golems out of the car and carried them into the garden.
When he placed the clay on the porch he could see Peter hesitating as his hands were on Kate Argent’s torso. He had probably been taking off her shirt when he had felt the urge to kill her right there and then. Stiles could relate. But that was not their plan.
Stiles interrupted his own work to crouch next to his Alpha and take his hand from the unconscious body.
“Peter...remember the plan. We can’t interrogate her if she’s already dead. Be patient, let us do what we’ve planned and later you can tear away at her until she collapses from the pain. Sound good?”
Peter took a shaky breath and nodded. “Yes, good. You’re right.”
“Very good. Should I undress her and you start preparing the spell?”
Peter nodded again and got up to set up everything that was needed to force the clay into its desired forms.
Stiles wrinkled his nose at the murderous woman and continued undressing her. After they had stripped their victims down to their underwear Stiles took a lock of hair from each person before Peter stuffed them
in huge, black plastic bags and carried them around the house and loaded them in the back of the car.
They might have been worried someone could see them and think Peter was in fact carrying
bodies
around, but Peter’s superhuman strength made it very easily look like those bags were way too light to be containing people.
Stiles in the meantime had started creating golems in their victims image and bringing them to life - well, into existence, since golems were technically not living creatures.
Each golem got the strand of hair of their lookalike at the center of their head, giving them at least superficially the needed personality to pass as said person.He commanded them to come to life and they rose from the ground, looking around in mild curiosity.
With a few words in hebrew he commanded them to get dressed and sit back down in their respective places at the table.
After they had done that he commanded them to follow his words exactly before switching to English.
“The moment I wake everyone else up you are to act like nothing happened. You just saw Allison collapse and that’s it. You will live as the person everyone thinks you are. Then, starting two weeks from now one of you will walk into the nearest body of water and dissolve. A week after that the next one will do the same, and so on and so forth. You will go first. Then you, you and you, and you’ll be last.” The person Stiles pointed at when he said those final words was the golem resembling Allison’s mother.
Stiles had debated whether to take her or not but in the end his vision had made it clear to him she was certainly not innocent and thus ultimately not a good influence on Allison, even if she wasn’t aware of it.
He might give her a chance to save herself though.
All five golems nodded and then just sat in their chairs.
Stiles took a last look around, collected the utensils he had used to create his golems and headed out to their transporter.
Peter came from the back of the vehicle after properly stacking and securing their cargo and making sure none of them were in danger of suffocating and took the seat behind the wheel.
“Ready?” he growled, clearly on the edge.
Stiles nodded weakly and fished for one of the power enhancing potions.
He felt extremely drained and exhausted.
“Don’t take too much, that stuff is very addictive.”
Stiles took a big gulp and licked his lips as Peter pulled out of the driveway. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
They drove further and further while Stiles felt his powers come back.
He called upon his little friends one last time to show him the scene they had just left as he snapped his fingers again to resolve the sleeping beauty curse.
He watched as everyone snapped awake in confusion, crowding Allison to ask her if she was okay and trying to find out what exactly happened.
As Stiles had ordered them his disciples played their parts and helped smooth over the strange but ultimately harmless seeming occasion.
Roughly at the same time their captives started stirring, waking up in a bag, restrained by duct tape around their wrists, ankles, knees, elbows and over their mouths.
~*~
The rest of their work was even easier than Stiles had thought.
They drove deep into the preserve to a cabin Peter’s family had used to train newly turned werewolves. Which meant it had a basement with soundproof walls, a reinforced door and shackles that could withstand all kinds of supernatural force.
The first person they interrogated was the guy they knew had been at the Hale house but who’s name or status in the hunter hierarchy they didn’t know.
He turned out to be a pretty low ranking lackey with seemingly mediocre hunting skills at best, but because he had lost his parents to ‘The Weres’ Gerard had taken him in and he had been the old man’s loyal follower ever since.
Well, not that loyal. Once Peter started manipulating him, making him believe he might have a chance to get out of this situation fairly unscathed he was singing like a nightingale.
They got three more names of people who had been involved in killing Peter’s family and also confirmation of Stiles’ assumption Allison and her dad had not been a part of anything. Allison indeed had not been raised in the Argents’ ways because her father had been adamant in keeping her away from all of it.
After the guy had told them anything they wanted to know Stiles watched Peter slash his throat, swift and cleanly.
It should probably have bothered him. It at the very least should have made him flinch. But it didn’t. Somehow this felt okay, good even. Society as a whole had to try and find better ways to deal with injustice. But this, an individual taking revenge on their abusers, he had no problem with it. And gruesome sights had never fazed him much before. If anything they were fascinating. The circumstances made them good or bad. As it was right now, he even found the presence of mind to collect most of the blood spilling from the wound.
Peter looked at him with a smirk before actually licking his claws. “Blood of an executed person I assume...would you like me to suspend him by his feet so he’ll be properly drained?”
With a sweet smile Stiles looked up from where he was collecting the precious and illegal ingredient. “That’d be great.”
Peter did what he had offered to do and a few moments later there was a bowl underneath the guy’s hanging corpse, collecting the blood dripping from his body.
They placed their second captive so he could see the suspended corpse hanging behind Stiles and Peter, giving his fantasy some inspiration and showing they weren’t playing around.
This time they took the lackey they had known about.
The guy had little new information but at least he confirmed most of what lackey number one had said.
Not long after and that guy was also hanging dead from the ceiling in the basement and dripping blood into a bowl.
The third person they interrogated was Victoria Argent.
She looked ready to bite their heads off when they opened the bag to reveal her face.When she saw Stiles though she got very quiet and Peter took that moment to tape her to
a chair as he had done with the other two.
Not that it would have been necessary but they both lived by the premise it was better to be thorough than sloppy.
Stiles took the chair opposite her and leaned back, consciously relaxing. “Hello Victoria. I’ll admit I didn’t think I’d find myself in this position either. Yet here we are.”
Peter ripped away the duct tape over her mouth and she made a small noise of pain before twisting her mouth in disgust, her lips still stained by lipstick.
Her disgust was directed first at Peter, then at Stiles. “I always knew you were a bad influence on my girl.”
Stiles smiled at the insult. “You are one to talk. I saw a future in which you stood by as Kate told Ally to kill me. You really think I’d ever let it get that far?”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Ever considered your ‘visions’ might just be delusions?!”
He almost couldn’t believe she would try that tactic with him.
Shaking his head in disbelief he exchanged a quick glance with Peter before continuing. “Yes. Right until I had visions of the Hale house burning down and it became reality. Since then? Never. And even if that part had been wrong, your two friends behind us already told us a lot of shady shit you pulled behind the backs of your husband and daughter. You are far from innocent lady. But, you’re also my friend’s mother. So I’ll give you a chance to save your own life and save your daughter from losing a parent.
If you are willing to take an oath to never intentionally harm any innocent creature ever again or encourage others to do so, never go after Peter and me and to stay quiet about anything that happened while you were our captive we will spare you and let you return to your family.”
Stiles could see the gears in her mind turning, could see how she weighed her options.
Finally she licked her lips while assessing Stiles with curiosity for the most part. “Why ‘intentionally’? I don’t see how leaving that out would have created a loophole…”
Stiles had to actually smile at the question. “I don’t care if you accidentally step on an ant or pill bug. I just don’t want you to break your people’s fucking code. I mean, it’s not that damn difficult! Peter and I are following your code right now. No one who’s guilt isn’t proven, no young ones, no simple humans. Because let’s be real, you hunters are as much a part of the supernatural community as we are. You are part of our world. Now, what will it be, Victoria?”
She agreed.
Stiles performed the ritual of her taking her oath, bound with magic right then and there before releasing her from her restraints.
She rubbed her wrists and ankles with a deep frown but she got out of their way as Peter dragged Gerard and Kate Argent in.
Peter took them out of their bags and tied each of them to a chair.
Then they gave the two murderers a minute to really take in their environment.
A mage with blood covered hands - from handling the dead hunters - an Alpha werewolf in beta shift with blood dripping from his claws and a disheveled Victoria in one corner in the back of the room with two dead, suspended members of their ‘family’ on the other side of it.
Their faces both made impressive journeys through several emotions.
Gerard’s settled on righteous fury and Kate’s on crazed amusement.
Stiles saw Peter’s fingers twitching and carefully took his Alpha’s bloody and clawed hand to ground him, anchor him.
Peter gave him a small nod. Then Stiles stepped forward and cleared his throat. “One of you is the person mainly responsible for the atrocity of killing the entire Hale Pack, including mothers, children and human pack members by burning them alive. Both of you will be punished for this. But you’ll have one chance to lessen your sentence by telling us which one of you was the ringleader.”
They gave both of them a few more moments and then Peter walked over to stand behind them, tearing off the tape on their mouths simultaneously.
They both made a noise of protest and then Gerard spoke quickly. “It was her! I honor the code! She was the mind behind this horrible tragedy, she is responsible! She is crazy and dangerous!”
Stiles could feel immense satisfaction as Kate’s eyes showed just how heartbroken she was at her father’s betrayal. He could only imagine what Peter were feeling right now.
Then there were actual tears in her eyes as she fought against her restraints with a fury only a crazy person could have. “HOW COULD YOU?!?!? I LOOKED UP TO YOU!!! I DID THIS FOR YOU!!!! YOU TOLD ME TO GO AFTER DEREK!!!”
Gerard’s face was cold and lacked any emotions as he spoke his next words. “She is lying. I didn’t tell her to do anything. It was all her own doing.”
At those words she turned her head away from her father and tried to look at Peter.
“Just get it over with then!” she hissed at him and Stiles could once again see Peter’s fingers twitch but he didn’t act and instead his face twisted into a cruel smile.
Stiles smiled as well and responded to her request, drawing her attention back to him. “Soon enough. But first, your Daddy did rat you out and I am a man of my word.”
The geriatric man had a small smile on his lips, his eyes on Victoria, probably thinking he’d get to come out of this alive, like she did.
But then Peter’s fingers wrapped around his neck, claws pricking the skin over his adam’s apple.
Stiles smiled generously. “He’ll get a quick death.”
Peter tore out the man’s throat as he opened his eyes wide in shock.
The last word Gerard Argent spoke was a disbelieving, gargled “What?” as he was drowning in his own blood.
“Good” Stiles said flatly before moving to wash his hands in the sink in the corner next to the door. “Would you be a dear and hang him next to the other two while I swap out Mrs. Argent and her golem? I’m sure you’d like some privacy while taking your time with her.” He nodded vaguely at Kate and Peter grinned a grin with too many teeth.
“You truly are perfect.”
Stiles huffed and put his hands on his hips. “Well, if that’s so, how about a goodbye kiss?”
His Alpha’s grin got even wider. “Of course.”
He stepped closer, careful not to get any additional blood on Stiles’ clothing and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips, without shifting back into his human form.
Stiles hummed approvingly and licked his lips afterwards. “I could get used to this.”
Peter chuckled deep in his throat, it sounded almost more animal than human. “The killing murderers or kissing me?”Stiles smirked “Both.” he said before turning and motioning Allison’s mother to walk in front of him.
~*~
Switching Victoria with her golem was easy enough since it was night by now and everybody was already asleep.
She didn’t talk to him all the way to their house but he was okay with that, she probably had to process the way tonight had changed her entire life.
When she saw the golem that looked like her though her eyes got a little bit wide.
The golem frowned at her. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Is that how I sound…” she mumbled and Stiles shrugged.
“It must be close enough or else Chris, Allison or someone else would have noticed the difference.”
She was quiet for a moment. “At least now I know why you stripped me down to my underwear...I thought it was an intimidation tactic…”
He hummed thoughtfully. “Well it wasn’t, it was a simple necessity.”
He then turned to the golem. “Give her the clothes.”
The golem dutifully started stripping and she stared but didn’t say anything.
Afterwards she started putting on the clothes the golem was holding out to her mechanically.
She turned to Stiles, frowning again, but a little less deep. “You are not a good person, I hope you know that young man.”
Stiles crossed his arms and leaned against the transporter. “I do, but at least I don’t need an oath to keep me from killing innocent people. So I’m not feeling too bad about myself. I’ll see you around.”
With that he ordered the golem to get in the car and then got behind the wheel himself.
Meanwhile Victoria stared at him angrily but stayed quiet.
She probably didn’t have anything clever to retort.
~*~
When Stiles returned to the cabin Kate’s body was so mutilated he would not have known it was her if it hadn’t been the only body he could not identify.
She was strung up next to the other three and bleeding into a vase.
Stiles raised his brows at Peter, who was sitting on one of the chairs, playing with something that looked like an eye.
“There were no more bowls so I improvised” was the response he got.
Before Stiles could say anything there was a small noise from Kate’s direction.
“She’s still alive?”
Peter nodded.
Stiles stepped closer and looked at the work Peter had done on her.
“Impressive…” he mumbled.
“Thank you.” Peter responded and though Stiles could not see it he heard in the man’s voice that he was smiling.
“She won’t be much longer though” Peter continued.
Stiles nodded in agreement.
“I haven’t decided how to end it...so I supposed she might as well bleed out as long as I’m thinking.”
Stiles tilted his head in contemplation. “Are you a fan of symbolism?” He turned around to see the man smirk villainously.
“I’m a fan, yes. Did you have something in mind?”
Stiles gave him a lopsided smile. “Fire?”
A gleam appeared in Pete’s eyes. “I might be in love with you.”
Stiles felt his cheeks flush at those words. “I’d be okay with that. May I?”
He pointed at Kate and Peter nodded. “Feel free Darling.”
Stiles licked his lips and approached Kate’s body, crouching down and dipping his fingers into the vase filling with blood.
Some of it was already clotting but there was enough he could still use.
He put the vase a safe distance away and drew a simple sigil underneath her.
While he did so he heard her mumble a few words.
He could not understand her but Peter apparently did because he decided to tell Stiles.
“She is begging you to end her suffering.”
The corners of Stiles’ mouth twitched as he drew some symbols within the sigil. “I will...eventually…”
He stood up again and walked over to where Peter was sitting.
Peter held out his hand and Stiles took it easily, lacing their fingers together.
Clear and simple he spoke one word “Adoleo” and from the sigil upwards shot flames, blue, white, and deadly.
The fire
licked at her tortured body and ate away at her flesh, coaxing screams from her throat probably not even she had known were still in there.
Peter pulled Stiles hand close and gave it’s back a loving kiss.
“Thank you.”
Stiles squeezed Peter’s hand a bit tighter while they watched Kate Argent die.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

They had just tracked down the last responsible hunter and gutted him in the cabin when Stiles had another vision.

He saw himself and Allison sitting in a café, talking to each other and the waitress came to their table to put a plate with a piece of what he guessed was cherry pie in front of him.

It looked horrible, almost like the guts he had just seen and he could see on his future self’s face he wasn’t any more impressed then than he was now.

The vision faded and he was left standing over the remains of their victim.
The vision did however remind him he had said coffee date with Allison in just little over an hour. If he wanted to be on time he had to hurry.
So he went upstairs where Peter was showering because he had called dibs.
Stiles decided he didn’t care and walked into the bathroom and started undressing. “I just remembered I’m supposed to meet Ally in an hour, I don’t have time to wait until you’re done with your beauty work, handsome.”
Peter laughed and just scooted over a little. “If it was up to me we could have showered together even if that wasn’t the case. Hop in.”
Stiles did just that and grabbed the soap while giving Peter a peck on the lips. “The kind of shared shower you would probably like to have is definitely something I don’t have time for.”
There was a mischievous smile in the man’s face. “What kind of shower would that be exactly?”Stiles shook his head. “No time for dirty talk either. But if you hurry up you can drop me off and act like my possessive boyfriend. And maybe after that pay the hospital a visit to take care of that disaster of a nurse....”
Peter paused at that and Stiles stilled in his tracks, looking at him in confusion.
“Well. That sounds tempting. But only if I am in fact your possessive boyfriend...I have no intention just playing along with a fantasy.”
Stiles rolled his eyes at that and started to shampoo his hair. “I would not have offered otherwise Peter. You are my Alpha, I am your anchor and we aren’t just pack and family, we are a couple. At least in my eyes.”
That made Peter smile warmly. “In my eyes as well. You really are perfect.”
Stiles smiled and shook his head before rinsing out his hair. “You’re so cheesy, we haven’t even had sex yet…”
Peter helped Stiles by rinsing a spot he had missed before planting a kiss to his neck. “That’s not what our relationship is built on, we have all the time in the world to figure the other parts out.”
And those words stupidly were what made Stiles heart beat faster.
He leaned his head against Peter’s shoulder. “I’m pretty sure I love you too.”
~*~
Peter did drop Stiles off in that ridiculously flashy sports car and pulled him in for a rough, demanding kiss before Stiles got out of the car.
Stiles leaned back in to remind Peter “Don’t let anybody recognize you unless you know a really good explanation for why you are walking around and have no scar tissue whatsoever.”
Peter pushed his sunglasses up his nose with a cocky grin. “Yes Dear, I know. I’ll just sneak in, grab the psycho nurse and take her back to our cabin.”
Stiles smiled approvingly and gave Peter another, more gentle kiss, before fully getting out of the vehicle.
Allison was already waiting in the café and looked after Peter’s car as he drove off.
When Stiles basically fell down into the chair across from her she smiled curiously. “You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend…”
Stiles grinned wide “It’s a pretty new development.”
“Congrats. I hope it works out.”
His grin turned into a wistful smile. “I have the feeling it will. But that’s enough from me right now. How are you? How was the family thing?”
Allison smiled carefree at her friend. “Good. I’m good, seeing my family again was very nice - I mean it was a little weird now and then but you know...big families are like that. My mom was a little bit strange the last few days but really I think it might just be menopause…”
Stiles felt some relief at knowing Allison had really not been negatively affected by their actions so far. Yes, she would probably be sad when the golems posing as her aunt, grandfather and whoever the other hunters had been pretending to be, her cousins maybe, died in the next few weeks, but it’d be more weird than traumatizing and she wouldn’t have to witness it first hand.
“Yeah, you might be onto something there Ally, my dad is acting a bit weird lately too...midlife crisis might not be a bad guess.”
She giggled and then the waitress came to take Stiles’ order.
After a moment of consideration he went against his original decision on cherry pie and instead ordered the waffles with chocolate sauce and fresh strawberries.

~*~

~*~